#i hope it made some sense- i rarely put into words these sort of thoughts so im kinda all over the place

[chronosdawn]

Attached - Alpha!Wriothesley x Beta!Reader

a/b/o AU, GN!Reader

A/N: I got the idea for this while working on another, longer a/b/o fic so instead of working on that like I was supposed to, I wrote this OTL

Word count: 1.3k

Content warnings: a/b/o dynamics, mild sexual content and themes (minors please DNI)

Not many got the chance to know the Duke of the Fortress of Meropide well. Certainly, almost everyone in Fontaine knew of him, and as the Fortress’s administrator, many people had some sort of contact with him, be they convicts of the Fortress or proprietors of businesses hoping to gain a foothold there.

But among those, very few got to actually know the Duke beyond his title and position, and when you’d first met him, you’d had no reason to think you’d be any different. Sure, you had been invited there by him personally, which was rare, but made sense once you’d learned he was looking to procure resources for some project that was being worked on in the Fortress—something you had a lot of experience doing for members of the Fontaine Research Institute.

Over the course of several meetings—and more than a couple of pots of tea—a tentative friendship had formed between you. One that had turned into something quite different when you’d accidentally stumbled into his office while he was in a rut.

And that, was how you’d come to end up in your current situation—seated in Wriothesley’s lap with your overnight bag discarded by the door to his room. You hadn’t expected this to become a regular occurrence when you’d first offered him your assistance, but for some reason the stubborn fool had refused to seek out an omega to spend his ruts with, even if you both knew that was what he actually needed.

He nosed against the back of your neck before going in with a gentle nip of his teeth, dangerously close to where your small beta scent gland lay.

“Careful,” you warned, “you know our agreement, nothing that can’t be taken back. I don’t want to be the reason your future omega ends up developing some sort of complex.”

Wriothesley stilled briefly before grazing his teeth over your nape once more. “What would you do if I did?”

“What do you mean?” You tried to turn around to look at his face, but the muscular arms around your waist kept you locked in place, pressed tightly against the firm planes of his chest.

“What would you do if I decided to put a claiming bite on you? Right now, you’re not in any position to stop me.”

“You wouldn’t,” you said with absolute certainty, even as he nipped at you again, harder this time.

“What makes you so sure?” His rut had come on enough that even you could smell the pheromones he was pumping out into the air, a rich leathery musk with notes of clary sage.

“I know you, you just wouldn’t.”

“You sound pretty convinced of that.”  He went quiet for a moment, and when he spoke again, his voice was barely audible as he muttered into your skin. “Do you even know what I was originally sentenced here for?”

“I do.” He’d never told you himself but you remembered reading about his trial in the newspaper your father had left out on your dining room table. “But that’s neither here nor there. You’re not the sort of person who’d force a yourself on someone, and I can’t imagine you ever being disloyal to your mate. Even if for some strange reason you seem reluctant to go out and find them.”

He let out a chuckle but there was no real humour in it. “You know, sometimes I wish you thought a little less highly of me.”

“If I didn’t think so highly of you, I wouldn’t be here, you know that.”

“Yeah, I do.” He went back to worrying at your neck, his mouth over your scent gland. Instead of biting down, however, he sucked at the skin in a way that was certain to leave its own sort of claiming mark, but one that would fade within a week. 

“You don’t seem to be in any hurry,” you noted, as he took his time littering your nape with hickeys, despite the growing hardness you could feel pressing against your ass.

“How long can you stay?” His hands began to wander slowly over your body, the heat of his palms burning through your clothes.

“A couple of days.” You let out a sigh, allowing yourself to enjoy the feeling of his touch while you could. “I’ve got a trip to Liyue scheduled to check on some ore shipments and it’s too late to rearrange it. Sorry I can’t be here for the whole thing; I should be able to help you through the worst of it though.”

“And when will you be back?”

“I’m not sure. Some of the merchants we’re dealing with are really dragging their feet for some reason. I should be back before your next one, although whether that’s really a good thing or not, I don’t know. Might have been a good incentive for you to actually seek out a more permanent arrangement.”

“I really wish you’d stop bringing that up.” One of his hands slipped underneath your shirt, sliding beneath your undergarments so he could give your nipple a firm squeeze. “What’s so wrong with this?”

You let out an undignified squeak and chastised him with a light slap to the thigh. “I know I sound like some nagging old aunt, but I just want you to find someone who makes you happy. Truly happy, not just sex.”

“And if I said you make me happy?”

“I can’t, not in the way deserve,” you said a little sadly, before putting the thought out of your mind altogether. It was best not to think about what ifs that could never be, it would only lead to hurt. “Now, what do you say we get a move on, before you get so wound up you tear straight through my clothes. Again.”

Wriothesley loosened his hold enough for you to turn around in his lap, fingers moving to undo the buttons of your shirt as he watched with rapt attention.

“With the way you’re so fond of telling me off, anyone would think you’re the alpha in this relationship.” He made no move to touch you, simply observing as you shed your garments one by one. You weren’t entirely sure how he was managing it, you could see the flush on his cheeks, feel the tension in his body—a piece of elastic a hair’s breadth from snapping. Still, if any alpha would have the self-control to hold themselves back during a rut, it would be him.

“Come on mister, it’s not fair to make me do all the work.” You moved to start helping him out of his waistcoat, his jacket having already been shed before you’d even entered the room.

“Alright boss,” he replied with obvious sarcasm, a smirk curling at his lips. With no warning, you were suddenly lifted and flung onto the bed, Wriothesley following you quickly after, caging you in with his body and leaving no hope of escape. “If you’re that eager, you don’t have to wait for me to go into a rut, you know, you can come here anytime. I’ve asked the staff at the front desk to let me know as soon as they see you.”

“It’s a tempting offer.” You helped him out of his waistcoat as he pulled off his tie and tossed it somewhere in the room. “But I’d hate to be the reason for a decline in the efficiency of management of the Fortress.”

“Always an answer for everything.” You didn’t get a chance to retort before his mouth was covering yours, hot and hungry as he ground his hips against your thigh. It would seem his control had finally failed him, as when you kissed back, he let out a satisfied growl from the back of his throat, fingers digging into your flesh as he tugged you into the position he wanted.

You simply let him, tangling your fingers in his hair as you braced yourself for what was sure to be a long and tiring—if enjoyable—affair.

[mosovi-vian]

And I will stay alive for my future self, so they can one day learn to be kind to who I was as a child. And I will teach them to honor who we used to be, so they can remember the comfort of what once was our untempered flesh and gentle soul. Me and myself are each a fresh wound and a rough scab, bearing respectively the gift of green faith and honed will.

This has been in my draft for a while because I was determined to post this only after I knew what I should write underneath it. I’ve read a lot on the concept of healing the wounded inner child since even before my c-ptsd diagnosis. However, I’ve sought as much comfort in my little self as they had in me. Looking back, I was an impressively emotionally-intuitive kid. I remember well how I used to think, the things I would write to my future self; they were wiser and gentler than I could ever hope to be as an adult. Needless to say, the little poem above is inspired by the aforementioned experience. Sure, big me is armed with a more developed pre-frontal cortex and access to invaluable resources (coping mechanisms, therapy, on and offline communities) , but I struggle to rediscover/reinvent my identity. Little me was the biggest vestige of my lost personhood. So yeah, this might be just a huge self-indulgent projection with my favorite character, but thinking that post-S3 Hunter would also be in my shoes is not completely baseless. 16yrs old Hunter is the fresh wound (a lot of things happened before his teen years, but I’m going to interpret the events of Hollow Mind - which happened when Hunter was 16 - as the ultimate boiling point in his trauma timeline, hence the ‘fresh wound') and 20yrs old Hunter is the rough scab. Each version of Hunter could be dealing with a different set of trauma-induced symptoms. I think his loyalty to Belos kept him going as a child. Being doubtless was important to Hunter back then; it held his sense of self together. And maybe when he survived and was rewarded the time and space to grow into his own person and live for himself, there was this lasting emptiness. I feel this sort of emptiness even today. My only reference of what ‘wholeness’ felt like was when I was obedient to my family. I equated self-abandonment as the righteous norm. The symptoms I deal with today are definitely different from when I was Hunter’s age pre-time-skip. Now that Hunter is in a safe space and an adult post-time skip, he might also need to seek that strength from his younger self. Reminding himself of how far he’s come and the parts of him that he'd like to keep from his past. The parts that he knows in his bones are purely his - not instilled by Belos, not inherited from Caleb.

[zombiekilllers]

Roach x Medic! reader

Medic reader is hopeless about furthering her small relations with Roach, until one un mistakeable opportunity arises to grow closer with the quiet soldier.

Word count: 1200

gn!reader x roach !!

Persistent beeping of machinery in the infirmary encapsulated my ears entirely, as I focused on packing up the last of my medical supplies after a long grueling day on the job. 

Being a medic here was never easy work, horrible wounds and people in agony is a sight I had to see and treat on the daily. Sometimes, the turmoil all catches up to me.

 On rare quiet moments where I was the one of the only people left in the infirmary, and nothing but the sounds of beeping filled my ears was when reflection of the day made my psyche weak. 

As I put away the last tool at my station I found myself unable to get up from my small wheeled chair. My vision zoned out on the doorway and that damned beeping was almost deafening as I recalled all of the horrors I had seen just this day. The gruesome wounds, the cries of pain, the feeling of defeat when you know there is nothing left you can do to save a life, even when saving people is your primary job. 

A person entered the doorway, and the figure that was at first unrecognizable in my half unconscious state, became starkly clear as I came to my senses and looked up at the approaching soldier. 

Him. 

Roach. This alias was the only name I knew him by, but that was enough for me. His awfully quiet demeanor was of stark contrast to the rest of his task force he belonged to, the rest of the force following closely behind him while in conversation. 

They always pass through the medical bay on their way back to the barracks at the end of the day, a path in which I welcome with open arms. Even the passing sight of Roach was enough to lift my spirits slightly, though no words are being exchanged between us in this passage, hardly a fleeting moment of eye contact. 

My infatuation with him was a slow growing one, with his small silent acts of kindness towards me everytime I served him in my medical bay making my heart grow fond of him. Consistent muted demeanor was not only something I have never seen in the soldiers I treat, but also something that adds a level of mystery to my mystery man. 

I glanced up to meet eyes with Soap, who was now in front of the task force members and steadily making his way towards the barracks. 

“y/n”

He acknowledged me with a small smile and greeting nod as he passed, a greeting I met with my own affirming nod. 

Roach was now the last in the lineup of passers by, I knew that even the short lasting presence of his would make me forget about my current feeling of deprecation towards my job, and boost my emotions. 

His eyes, which could barely be seen from behind his goggles, met mine for a second, had a small crinkle to them and a certain gleam that would indicate that he was casting a smile in my direction, a gesture that I could feel make my cheeks heat up. 

Such a silly thing for me to feel, I thought to myself as I was once again in the medical bay all alone. Such feelings for a man I rarely see, a man who has not verbally returned the words I exchanged to him, a man whose presence was swallowed in secrecy. 

I pondered as I was returning to my own quarters what I could possibly do to increase my interaction levels with Roach. It would be a bit strange for one of the medics to begin trailing a sergeant without any established reason like a lost dog, and no other form of resolve came to mind. 

An empty bed was what I crawled into with the prospect of Roach still on my mind. I have always taken full acknowledgement to myself that he most likely barely registers me in his mind, but still; tiny glimmers of hope always serge through me everytime he gives me that familiar gleaming stare. 

I thought any attempts I would make towards getting closer to him could be futile. 

Last fleeting thought sin my half awake state consistent of incoherent hopes for some sort of opportunity to get closer to this silent masked man, 

One can only hope. 

                                                                   。      。    。

Four knocks in rapid succession upon my door was what woke me up the next groggy morning. 

Confusion filled my head immediately. People almost never need me or my skill set so desperately they feel they need to come to my quarters, especially so early in the morning. Cracking open the door, the familiar friendly face of Laswell meets me. 

“Oh! Morning Laswell,”

I say rubbing my eyes driving away the last feelings of sleep. Her face appears lenient, but with an underlying appearance of some form of worry, something I have never seen in Laswell before. 

 “Is there something wrong in the medbay?” 

I inquired, not knowing what else she could possibly need from me so desperately. 

“Y/n, your file states that you have had an extensive history as a sniper, and by the sounds of it you were a damn good one at that.” 

My eyes widen in curiosity at such an opening statement. What could have possibly provoked her to dig up my file, let alone read it? It was true my service used to include me being exclusively a recon sniper, but I did not see how such a skill would impact my work as a medic. 

I nod my head at her slowly, Not yet knowing her intentions behind this visit had me approaching with severe caution. 

“Well, call it late notice but we have a task force going on a mission where the skills of a sniper are needed. I asked around and discovered you used to have quite skill set for the job.” 

“What?”

I look at her with unmasked bafflement. Why would I of all people be the first selected for such a high rank sounding mission, as a medic? 

“Your extensive skills as a medic also play a contributing role, they could use one out on the field, you know.” 

I glanced down at the floor, trying to make sense of the situation. Should I even accept? The proposition sounded too daunting for me, especially considering I have not used a gun let alone picked up one for several months now. 

“Why me of all people?” 

I decided to ask. Be it blunt or not, the curiosity of these circumstances were eating away at me. 

Laswell paused in a moment of thought, before smiling in remembrance. 

“One of the members of this force recommended you in particular to be the member joining this mission. Would have never even known you used to be a sniper without them.”

I squint my eyes for her looking for an answer to who could have possibly recommended me into such a specific mission. The more compounding thought that came first was which task force was even being discussed. I tilt my head at her. 

‘Which task force?”

“141.”

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

This is my first attempt at writing a fanfiction ever! Was not pleased with the lack of Roach love.

Should I continue this??

[rosewould]

one way; cbg

part i | part ii | part iii

🖱️⤻ pairing; afab!reader x beomgyu 🖱️⤻ word count; 5.4k 🖱️⤻ genre; enemies 2 enemies PLUS, smut, & angst 🖱️��� synopsis; beomgyu has come to retrieve his clothing... as if he didn't just do the unthinkable 🖱️⤻ warnings; hate sex, really mean!gyu, slut shaming, dubcon (more than last time, proceed with caution), beomgyu got you good this time, mc is in shambles, unhealthy... relationship?, solo masturbation, cunnilingus, more pain play, biting, hair pulling, post orgasm torture (mc receiving), piv, I think that's all

⌨️⤻ I couldn't just make it "Beomgyu getting his clothes back" that would be too simple!!111!! I like the way this ended so there will be no part three, I like where they are.

Nestled into your dirty hamper are a solid grey cotton t-shirt and loose pair of black sweats. Not unlike some of your own clothes in your closet other than being a touch larger. The articles of clothing get buried deeper and deeper without you even noticing. You wash and dry them before finally discovering them while folding. You set them to the side for the next time you journey to the boys’ dorm.

That day never comes.

“All I ever do is stick my neck out for you, you know? The department heads raise suspicion about how much time you spend with them and I make an excuse. And now I find this out?”

Your manager rants and raves while pacing your apartment. You remain motionless on your couch, staring at nothing, drowning out all her words. You just can’t believe he went through with it. 

“Did you at least use a condom?” She asks exasperatedly, clapping in front of your face when you don’t answer. “You’re not that reckless, I hope. You have to know your punishment will be more severe. Certain actions against Beomgyu could be a huge liability but they can do more to you no problem.”

Of course. Of course that’s the case. You curl forward and clutch your head. He was okay throwing himself under the bus because he’d get a slap on the wrist and you’d be royally fucked. Maybe you shouldn’t have let your emotions get the best of you. You embarrassed him and boasted about your “success”. You even rubbed it in on the days to come. You made it your mission to subtly throw jabs at him in the presence of his members. It’s what he put you through for so long, it was only fair. That fucking asshole.

“Well, I can’t help you anymore. You’ll attend a disciplinary meeting to determine where we go from here. I hope you have a future at HYBE.”

Her words echo in your mind in an attempt to make sense of them. After failing you look up at her in shock. “There’s a chance I get kicked out?!” You were a trainee, but a valued one. They sought you out specifically and fought all the other companies trying to snatch you up. You thought maybe your debut would get delayed and you’d definitely get banned from the dorm, just like he wanted. But he fucked you over even further than you thought he had the balls to. 

Your manager sighs, the pity in her eyes not easing the dread bubbling in your stomach. You can feel bile climb up your throat then and now as you’re standing outside the conference room. You take a long shuddering breath, deciding to just live with the disorienting fog clouding your brain as you walk in. As the meeting progresses the fog gets more and more treacherous with the news being hinted at. 

“This is just temporary until everything is sorted out. I hope you understand.”

They barely let you get a word in, just recounting everything Beomgyu told them and discussing amongst themselves. They automatically believed him.

The fog stuck around. It was a safety measure deployed to keep you from fully processing how dire the situation was. Soon enough you’d have to understand the gravity of the situation. After a week and three days of waiting in limbo with no news, you were forced to face the truth. Trainees rarely come back after a suspension, and if they do, they’d be back by now. Through all the insanity your brain still has room to worry about Soobin. What lies he’s being fed and if he’ll ever speak to you again.

You pull at your hair, sinking to the ground with your eyes clenched shut. You couldn’t even cry or scream. You just grit your teeth as the frustration gets too strong for you to cope with. A knock on the door sends you immediately walking to answer it, intending to hurriedly send the person away.

You pull the door open and immediately your frustration washes away. 

“Are you just gonna stare at me?”

You don’t even realize how long you’ve been doing it but you’re not sure what else to do. An alarming level of anger builds inside you until you can feel your chest constrict. You’re so enraged you can’t move or speak, so you just look at him as tears pool and threaten to spill. Tears that had been building up for the past week and three days.

“I’m here for the clothes you stole. I’ve been looking for them and can’t find them.”

“Do you know what you’ve done, Beomgyu?” You ask genuinely. Maybe there’s a chance he only thinks you got banned from the dorm. Perhaps his audacity wasn’t quite as boundless as to possibly get you kicked out and still show up to your apartment over two easily replaceable articles of clothing.

“Relax. You were already famous. You can easily get into another company, maybe even the big three.” He says dismissively as if it’s so obvious and the tears streaming down your cheeks were foolish. It was like a siren was blaring in your ears, piercing your eardrums until there was no other noise as you scream at him. Shouting obscenities in between accusations that he just ruined your life and doesn’t even care. You don’t spare a glance at the neighbors who open their doors to see what the hell was going on. 

Beomgyu shoves you into your house and slams the door shut. “Are you fucking crazy?!” He spits with a sharp glare. As if you’re supposed to care about his image after what he did.

“You’re the one making me crazy! You’re provoking me and getting surprised when I react? I’ve been just sitting here in my house losing my mind because I could get the news any day now, and you expect me to have a civil conversation with you?” The veins in your neck bulge as you rush more words out at him.

“Look, I’m just here for my clothes and then I’ll be on my way.” He’s infuriatingly calm, not bothered by bringing you to hysterics once again. Not bothered by your tears or the situation he’s put you in.

“Oh, you want your clothes?” You raise your eyebrows, anger painfully evident in your eyes. You stomp off to your room, finding the neatly folded clothes sitting atop your dresser before searching for a pair of scissors. You step back into your living room with the clothes in one hand and the scissors in the other, making him watch as you cut through the fabric. You hold the scissors open, ignoring the way the other half of the blade digs into your fingers as you stab into his clothing and rip large holes into them.

“What are you doing?!” Beomgyu rushes over and attempts to rip the scissors from your hand before the situation escalates. After a brief struggle you drop the scissors and clothes to the ground and wrap your hands around his throat. You squeeze hard as you look into his eyes, pushing him toward the couch until he falls on top of it. He tries to pry your hands away and you resist as much as you can, feeling tingling in your toes as his face turns redder. “You fucking waste of space.” You mutter as you kneel over him with one leg.

The rage labors your breathing, or maybe it was the pleasure you derived from seeing him suffer. Just as he starts to wheeze he finally pries your hands away and roughly grabs your face. You try to pull at his forearm but he grips your jaw tighter until he’s painfully digging into the bone. “You’re not doing this shit again. Do you actually want to be kicked out?” 

“I don’t care anymore.” You whisper through ragged breaths, trying to grab onto him but he restrains your arms behind your back.

“If you want me just say so.” He smirks. You spit on him and his expression immediately sours. “Suit yourself.”

He familiarly grabs both your wrists in one hand while the other unzips his pants. He pulls his hardening cock out through the hole in his boxers and begins pumping it as he stares at you. “I’ll just jerk off until I cum all over you and make you watch.” He groans as he squeezes precum from his tip.

You grunt, trying to free yourself but he just tightens his fist until it starts to hurt. You wince but never dull your glare. The more worked up you get, the more it seems to turn him on. “Little baby is crying because she’s about to get fired.” He pouts, precum rolling from his slit over his knuckles watching you seethe.

“I love seeing you cry. I jerk off and cum over and over imagining you sobbing because of me.” He breathes, slowing the drag of his fist as he drinks you in. Your heaving chest and glare. You look so sexy when he pisses you off. He wonders if he could get you to cry more.

“They told me it’s unlikely they’ll trust you again, you know.”

“Shut up.” You grit, trying to tug your arms apart.

“Because only pathetic whores get into a potential sex scandal before their idol career even starts. Who knows how many dicks you’ll let inside you before you even step foot on stage.” He laughs in your face, belittling your emotions and getting off to them just to add insult to injury. You strain your hand to dig your nails into any of his flesh you can reach. He hisses, before his smile is back in place, taunting you. You dig them deeper until he squeezes your aching wrists again. You let go with a huff as your frustration translates to tears. 

“That’s right. Fuck— you’ll make me cum, baby.” He exaggerates his moans in his efforts to taunt you. Feigning a wanton expression as he fucks his fist. All his salacious noises make your core ache but there’s nothing you can do to stimulate it. Real and sexual frustration mixed together is a dangerous combo. You were already starved of social interaction, locking yourself in your house waiting for the news. You were banned from the only place you got it from outside of staff, and now the first interaction you’re getting isn’t satisfying your need in the slightest.

If you couldn’t get a shoulder to cry on, the least you wanted was to get fucked until you couldn’t think. Beomgyu is just wicked enough to know how to torture you. 

“Come on. All you have to do is ask for it nicely and I’ll fuck you.” Beomgyu strains, close to cumming. It’s now or never before you’re left with frayed emotions and a mess to clean up. Your stubbornness prevails as you just let out a defeated noise, clenching your eyes shut and squeezing more tears free. Real moans seem to break through as Beomgyu’s hips jerk, pointing his cock at you as he covers you in his cum. He loosens his grip on your wrists and you rip yourself free, shoving him pathetically once he finishes. He stands with a cocky grin, fixing himself before making his exit.

“You can keep the clothes.” He casts a disinterested look back at you and you lose it. Flipping furniture and throwing anything you can carry across the room, just missing him as he shuts your door. You continue your rampage, turning your entire living room upside down as you sob violently. When it subsides you look at the mess and clutch at your hair.

You collapse to the ground, hugging your knees as you cry until you can’t cry anymore. 

--🖱️▷

From behind your crusted lids, you watch the sun rise from the large window to the left of you. You don’t get up as it slowly goes higher and higher, indicating how long you’ve stayed there. Your doorknob turns and you still don’t look up. Maybe the burglar will think your house already got ransacked and leave.

“You’re almost making me feel bad.” Beomgyu nudges you with his foot and you sit up. You gawk at him and he just smiles back. 

“What are you doing in my house?” He was a lot less welcome than the burglar.

“You left your door unlocked.” He shrugs.

“You’re crossing a dangerous line.” You warn in a low voice, rising to your feet. 

“What’re you gonna do? Have sex with me again? Scary.”

“I’m not in the mood. Get out of my house.” You try to push him but he stays rooted in his spot, smiling down at you. He was clearly still high off fucking with you last night. “Fine. You can stay.”

His smile stretches wider before trying to smooth his knuckles down your cheek which you dodge. “Only if you eat me out.”

He snorts, instantly dismissing you. “That’s not happening.”

“Then leave.”

“And if I don’t?” He leans closer to your face and you’re transported to the day that potentially ruined all your hard work in one fell swoop. Your blood pressure rising around him had become customary, along with the urge to mutilate him somehow. You wordlessly pull out your phone, typing in three numbers dramatically until he snatches the phone out of your hand. “Give it back. I’m trying to report the intruder in my home.” He hurls your phone to the floor before regarding you once more.

“You really are dense.” His face is serious suddenly as he closes in on you. “There’s something seriously wrong with you. Soobin dodged a bullet.” There was potent malice in his eyes, sending a shiver down your spine.

“Leave. Now.”

The two of you stare at each other as if you’re trying to kill the other with your eyes alone. He grasps the end of the shirt he sullied before pulling it up and forcing it off your body. He moves to your ratty shorts with streaks of his cum, shoving them down and almost tripping you to get them off.

He kneels on the floor, the only clean circle of space surrounded by the wreckage, keeping his eyes on you. He moves your underwear to the side and starts sucking on your clit. There was nothing left for interpretation for either of you. There was no denying the hatred in both your eyes or the arousal you make each other feel. Your glare falters once he starts to suck harder, your brows slanting upward as you swallow hard. He growls into your cunt, making your legs wobble. You grab a tuft of hair at the top of his head, yanking him closer. He tries to pull away and protest but you shove him back in. “Don’t stop–” Your moans are a little embarrassing but you can’t hold back how desperate you are. Fuck, did you need this bad. 

He keeps your legs pried apart just as they start closing around his head. Even when he’s doing what you demanded, he still feels as though he’s getting his way. Every flick and drag of his tongue has you at his will. He pulls away, tugging your fist from his hair and watching the disbelief form on your face. 

He looks up at you with his brown eyes blown and hair messy, licking you off his lips before smirking. There was that urge again. To sink to your knees and scratch, slap, kiss– do something to his infuriating face. You clench your teeth and try to push him back but he dodges you, pulling back completely and enjoying your protests. 

“Fine I’m calling–” You gasp, hands flying to his hair as he grabs your thighs and runs his tongue between your folds. His tongue catches your hole, threatening to slip in only to run to your clit and back. Your knees buckle, balance getting screwy but Beomgyu holds you steady. He curls his tongue into your heat, repeatedly scooping out your essence that’s gushing for him.

Then he pulls back again and you whimper, two actions that have you deeply disappointed. “What the fuck.” You shout at him. He makes a show of licking his lips. “I bet you would beg for my tongue, wouldn’t you?”

“What?!”

“Do it. Say please and I’ll make you cum.”

You go to deny him but he brushes the tip of his nose against your clit and sends the most violent shiver through your body. You whimper again, unable to deny the clawing need to cum anymore. “Fuck! Fine! Please, Beomgyu make me cum.” You’re too exasperated to put on a pleading tone but it’s enough for him.

He reattaches his mouth with a cocky grin, surveying your needy expressions closely as he sucks and licks your clit. Obscene noises fill the air along with your unrestrained moans. You clutch at him desperately, practically riding his face in your pursuit of release.

Beomgyu lets go of your thighs to free his cock. He pumps as you roll your hips against his face, holding his head steady. Your legs get progressively less reliable until your pussy is throbbing. With a moan of his name you cum on his tongue, stomach caving as his tongue continues to ravish you. His eyes are wild as he carries you through your trembling climax. You tug at his hair but he just hums. Not even that can bring him down as he squeezes and tugs on his hard cock, not intending to stop tonguing you until he’s finished himself. You pull his hair harder but he just grabs your leg with one hand and pushes in closer. Shoving his face deep within your folds, lapping at your sensitive nub and forcing a scream out of you. “Beomgyu! Enough!” You try but he only wiggles his face against you. Your stomach feels completely hollow, squeezing as another orgasm is forced out, gushing against his face until you have nothing else to offer. You suck in a large whoosh of air, holding it in before releasing it with a guttural groan.

With that, Beomgyu moans against your mound and shoots cum out his cock. Some streams reach far enough to hit your bare legs, most just ribbon over his fist. He stands up, completely disheveled and still jerking his cock. He breathes a laugh. “Please, Beomgyu make me cum!”

You roll your eyes at his childishness and shove at him, nearly pushing him over. “Shut up and get out.”

--🖱️▷

“Good morning, hyung.”

“Don’t talk to me.” Soobin responds breezily like it’s normal conversation, pouring himself a cup of coffee. Beomgyu watches Soobin maneuver around the kitchen. He rarely looks him in the eyes unless it’s to drive home an insult. 

“I did you a favor.”

“You refuse to listen so I refuse to talk to you.” He finally looks up at him during the last three words before brushing past him. 

“Just drop it. She’s been gone for a while now. You got what you wanted.” Yeonjun grumbles as he groggily enters the kitchen. 

“I’m not the one who needs to drop it.” Beomgyu responds, a hint of annoyance peeking through his cocky facade. 

“Soobin will talk to you on his own time.” He answers simply. Both of them were sat in the living room as if nothing was wrong. As if there wasn’t tension in the dorm now. Beomgyu scoffs.

“You know she’s more worried about her career than you.”

“That’s normal, Beomgyu.” Yeonjun turns on the tv but Beomgyu catches Soobin’s quick expression change. His brows drop, hanging heavy over his eyes as he thinks it over.

“Has she asked about me?” Soobin asks, looking up to reveal the vulnerability glinting in his eyes. Beomgyu finally untenses, moving to pour his own cup of coffee. He sets the cup down and sighs, pressing his hands to the counter before regarding his leader.

“Not even once.”

--🖱️▷

Your brain is desperate to focus on anything else than the lack of news, so you always notice when his footsteps are coming. You stand from your couch and open the door before he can. You expect a quip about how eager you are but are met with desperate lips. He moves inside your house before shutting the door with his foot. He’s frustrated today, you can feel it in the way he kisses you. His jacket is nothing but a disturbance so you push it over his shoulders and he lets it fall to the floor. Each time he pulls away and comes back he’s hungrier than before. There has been a comfortable, quiet acceptance established of what the other needs by now. 

Too bad you have to ruin it.

You reach for your phone in your pocket, cracking an eye open to open your camera. You position it to get both of you, deciding to snap a picture when his hands snake up to your neck. A place they’ve seemingly gotten comfortable. You snap another when he bites your lip. Another when he nips and kisses your jaw. Only then does he realize that you’re distracted. 

He opens his eyes, following your eye line until he spots the phone. His heart drops and he immediately reaches for it. You back away, quickly snatching the pepper spray from your coffee table and aiming it at him with your finger hovering over the button. A sense of hopelessness washes over him as he stops moving toward you. 

“You’re making a huge mistake.” His threat is dulled by the panicked look in his eyes and you resist the primal urges screaming at you. “This is going too far.”

“No, Beomgyu. You went too far when you got me fired.”

“You haven’t been fired yet–”

“You’re right.” You interrupt his dramatics and hold up a picture you took. “Because you’re going to tell them you lied.”

“And if I don’t you’re gonna show them proof that I wasn’t lying? Great plan.” Beomgyu is eased for a moment as more holes form in your plan. 

“No. I’m not showing this to them.” You lower the phone and hurriedly send the pictures to a trusted contact, shaky fingers reminding them of the plan right after as you mutter, “Someone else will post the picture publicly when I tell them to.”

“You’re willing to fuck yourself over too?!” Beomgyu erupts, racing toward you and only halting when you lay your finger on the trigger. 

“Beommie. You already fucked me. I’m fucked either way.” Your words slowly garner more venom, clenching your mouth shut when you see his resolve crumble. You chuckle bitterly. “You really think I would’ve just let you have your way with me with no consequences after what you did?”

“I didn’t mean for you to get kicked out. I only meant for them to ban you from the dorm.” Beomgyu admits regrettably. Like he was ashamed he wasn’t attempting to ruin your career.

“Well. Guess you really fucked up then. Get it done quick and make it believable for your sake.”

You keep your arm raised as he starts to walk away. He has this look of sarcastic acceptance on his face and you panic for a moment. Did he have something else up his sleeve? Was he going to snitch instead? You would still post the picture anyway, ruin the fantasy for his fangirls and his idol image. You had to do something other than wait in this damn apartment. And he had to understand you weren’t forgetting about the torment he put you through.

--🖱️▷

You heard nothing from Beomgyu for twelve days. Twelve days of radio silence and being cooped up in your apartment. You were borderline stir crazed but you were too scared to do anything. You found yourself holding your breath at times. 

He doesn’t show up at your house, but social media is blowing up. “Get well soon Beomgyu” is trending on Twitter. Turns out he’s on a “mental health hiatus”. Either that’s true and he’s chickening out or he’s on a temporary suspension as well. You don’t find out until the next day. 

“We would like to apologize and we hope you can forgive us and begin preparing for your debut again.” 

Your face lights up and you thank the executive profusely. You stand up and bow to everyone in the room, thanking them through your tears.

Whether or not Beomgyu showed up at your house hadn’t occurred to you nor did you care. You were rarely at home and busy rehearsing day in and day out. You were utterly exhausted, trudging home with sore legs one night when you saw him. He was waiting by your door, looking shocked when he notices you. 

“I already know you did your part. You don’t have to come here anymore.” You brush past him and push your keys into your door.

“We’re even now.”

You turn the keys and then the doorknob before stopping to spare him a glance. “I know.”

“You left me with blue balls last time and never made up for it.” He doesn’t even try masking the entitlement in his voice. You shove the door open, tonguing your cheek as you turn to face him.

“I don’t owe you anything and I still haven’t forgiven you.”

“Oh come on.” He rolls his head back dramatically. “Don’t make this difficult. What we have is fun and easy. We don’t have to tiptoe around each other, wondering if we said the wrong thing or whatever. We already know we hate each other.”

You sigh, already agitated mere minutes into the conversation. You enter your house and try to shut him out but he keeps it pried open with his hand. You turn to scowl at him to find he’s scowling back. You tug him in by his shirt and shove the door closed. 

“What we have isn’t mutual. It’s not “I hate you, you hate me”. You’re a terrible person and I–” Your rant loses steam as you take a step back and realize that this man is yet again in your home. “I keep subjecting myself to it.” You mutter under your breath regrettably. 

Beomgyu huffs a short laugh. “And what does that say about you?”

His words go down like shards of glass. Mostly because he’s right. He was right before, too. You don’t have to guess what’s going on in his head or what any of this means. You could kiss him right now and not have to worry about what it will mean tomorrow, what the next step for you two is. None of this will lead to mailing wedding invitations and discussing how you’ll split your income. It’s certain.

“Doesn’t really matter now does it?” You smirk as he pushes your jacket off and tosses it away. “No. Now let’s get on with this, Soobin’s getting on my fucking nerves again.”

“Wait.” You distance yourself from him. “Is something wrong with Soobin?”

“As if you care.” He cups the back of your neck and crushes your lips together. You hum a pitiful protest, wanting to continue the conversation but he tastes so fucking good. You finally gather the willpower to pull away. “He’s my friend, of course I care.” Your fingers tangle into his hair as he moves to mark up your neck. 

“You’re only asking about him now?” He mutters between nipping your neck just a little too hard. He’s amazing at pissing you off. You hiss, getting annoyed by his teeth and his words. “You really think I trust you enough to believe anything you say? You’re probably still turning them against me.”

“Lucky for you,” Beomgyu sinks his teeth into the apex of your shoulder and neck, intending to leave a reminder, “they’re on your side.”

“Huh,” You bite your lip and arch into him. The upper hand, you think. Always feels good.

“Don’t even say anything.” He growls into your neck. Before you could do just that he was pulling you to your kitchen and bending you over the counter. “We never make it to the bedroom.” You chuckle. The glee in your voice was sickening. “What did I say.” He warns.

“Aw, what’re you gonna do? Have sex with me? Scary.” You laugh, gasping in delight when he rips a hole in your leggings. “Not gonna shut up?” He grits, seething at your neverending smugness. You hear him behind you, angrily undoing his jeans and shoving them to his ankles. What you don’t see coming is him shoving you full of his cock in one fierce thrust. You gasp harshly this time, reaching back to push at his legs. “So fucking annoying.”

He thrusts you into the counter, banging your pelvic bone against it repeatedly. You fall forward onto the cool material but get lifted back up when he grabs you by your hair. He holds you at that awkward angle and keeps you there as he hammers into you. “Sh-shit!” You try to push back on him and attempt to regain your upper hand but he never ceases. With his other hand he lashes his palm over your ass, dick aching with each yelp you let out. He keeps going until your flesh feels red hot.

But it doesn’t matter. None of this tantrum of his matters. At the end of the day you still deflected each of his attempts to screw you over. They all failed. “Give it to me Beommie.” You mewl obnoxiously. He keeps spanking you until his own hand starts to hurt and curses under his breath.

God, does it feel good. Hate fucking is one thing, but nothing makes your cunt purr like successfully getting under Beomgyu’s skin. He should’ve never told you that. You squeeze around him teasingly, humming when he groans. You’re distracted from your teasing when he readjusts, aiming right for your g-spot. Your resolve melts and you wish for nothing more than to lie forward, go completely limp. Your back and neck start to ache and you whine.

Beomgyu growls again, egged on by your sniveling. The things he’d do to hear you beg for him to let go of your hair are endless. He wouldn’t do it, of course, but it’s your suffering that matters. You whimper, “Beomgyu,”

“What?” He tugs your head back and you release another sweet noise. 

“Right there… that feels good. Don’t stop.” Your voice is so quiet, much different than how you usually are. Not to mention what you said, which took quite a while to register. Beomgyu stops for a moment and you protest, but he needed a moment. He shuffles his feet awkwardly before letting go of your hair. You flop to the counter, welcoming the return of your mobility. He grabs your hips and starts stimulating your sweet spot again. You dissolve into the pleasure and he does too. Without the constant bickering and trying to show each other up you could just… relax.

Your body still aches a bit from the straining and spanking but it’s slowly recovering as your high approaches. Beomgyu moans and leans forward, curling his hands around your wrists as his hips continue to smack against yours. An intricate knot loops in your belly and is pulled tighter and tighter with each genuine sound of pleasure from Beomgyu. He’s actually kinda bearable when he isn’t blabbering a bunch. You rest your cheek against the cool counter as the pleasure practically incapacitates you. Placating all your defenses and strong emotions until you’re a numb blob melting onto the counter. Your debut song is way out of your register and you have practice again in the morning but no one couldn’t tell any of that was the case if they looked at you right now. 

All that mattered was the smooth dick easing in and out of you and the tightening knot and his grip tightening around your wrists and his body moving against you and–

“I’m cumming!” You gasp out before pushing your ass against him as a gush of arousal floods around him. He pulls you up abruptly, holding your body against him as he pumps into you for the last few times. He sees the blinding light of the first of many climaxes for the next month or so. He holds you there until his own climax subsides, yours flickering out a while before. Then he lets you go. You were going to be seeing each other a lot, so there was no need to stay after the deed was done. It didn’t need to be complicated.

likes and reblogs are very appreciated! 🖱️⤻ txt masterlist

[seelestars]

Hello. I'm sorry if this is sudden but I was wondering if you took story requests and if you do, could you make a platonic Dan heng story with the reader being the child of his previous incarnation Dan feng and is the reader still quite young. Jing Yuan is the one to tell Dan Heng about them even though he's only met the reader a couple times and doesn't know them very well, but Jing Yuan felt like Dan Heng had the right to know about the reader especially after the reader had an encounter with Blade. (If this is too much that's completely understandable and I wish you a good day/afternoon and or night😊)

➴ ✫ * ✧ DAN HENG MEETS HIS CHILD !!?

a/n : sorry if there’s like. plot holes? in areas bcuz ik vidyadhara can’t reproduce and adopting just didn’t make sense for me in this context ｡ﾟ(ﾟ´ω`ﾟ)ﾟ｡ i hope u still enjoy tho!

edit : HELPP I MEANT FOR THIS TO BE G/N YET I ACCIDENTALLY PUT DAUGHTER MY BAD OMG.

this moment of peace was much needed, though rare since he returned to the luofu temporarily to sort some things out. he blew on his tea, taking a small sip before he sensed another’s presence approaching him. he set the cup down, turning around to see just who it was that dared to disturb him. he relaxed slightly, after noticing it was just jing yuan.

an old friend of his previous incarnation.

but what could he possibly need from him at this time? he kept wondering to himself before jing yuan spoke up, his usual calm expression on his face, “sorry if I was bothering you. i thought there was something you should know.” he could sense his choice of words were a little more causal than usual, as if he still viewed him as dan feng. “go ahead.” he nodded, waiting for jing yuan to spill whatever he needed him to know.

though what he said next, brought him shock he hadn’t felt in a while.

“…you have a child.” jing yuan confessed, the calm smile never leaving his face even while confessing such news. “..how come.. I never knew about this?” dan heng had a puzzled look on his face, his eyes widened uncharacteristically. “that… im not exactly sure. but they have strikingly similar features to yours, and we even did a dna test. …you’re the father.” jing yuan said sheepishly, letting out a small chuckle. “but that aside, would you like to see them?” he offered.

even though he was no longer dan feng, he couldn’t find it in himself to refuse.

“..sure.” dan heng said awkwardly, following jing yuan to where his supposed child was. they walked for a little while, until they reached the busy and crowded streets of the luofu.

there they were.

a young teen that resembled dan heng was distracted, playing celestial jade with qingque. they had similarly colored horns that sprouted out like branches above their head, except with a scaly tail poking out from a hole in their outfit.

“thank you for distracting them, qingque. they seem to be quite a carefree spirit from what ive seen, so I appreciate you helping them stay in one place for the time being.” jing yuan had an amused smile on his face as he looked at dan heng before looking back to his child. “no problem general.” qingque responded, her eyes still glued to the game of celestial jade as she made another move. “ill be taking my leave now, have fun you all.” and with that, jing yuan disappeared in the crowd of people.

you on the other hand, was too focused on dan heng to pay attention to the game. “who are you?” you had a friendly look on your face, even though he was a complete stranger to you. “mmm wait… you look like me!” you smiled, always so full of energy.

“..I suppose I do.” dan heng smiled warmly back, feeling his heart melt at the sight of you. “and that’s because.. I am apparently, your father.” he averted his gaze awkwardly, the smile fading from his face. he was never good with kids, even when they act like someone he’s familiar with (march).

“ooooh.. I’ve always thought I didn’t have a father or anything of the sorts!” there was an excited look in your eyes as he admitted to being related to you in that way, your arms immediately pulling him into an embrace. dan heng was never a huge fan of chatterboxes, but he didn’t seem to mind when it came to you rambling about how excited and happy you felt. your childlike innocence warmed his heart in a way, as he found himself returning your embrace.

he was never good with kids, but maybe, just maybe, he’ll learn how to be a father. for you.

[moorishflower]

Fawney Rig Estate Sale

Fawney Rig Estate Sale, the flyer says, and Hob doesn't know who placed it, or why they chose the Inn as its final housing, but when Dream sees it, the grainy jpeg of some massive gothic monstrosity of a manse bracketed by the words FURNITURE - BOOKS - COLLECTIBLES, his expression becomes distant, and his hand spasms on the bartop. He's gotten fairly good at reading Dream's moods over the past few months, and this one, he thinks, is a doozy. This one is almost like fear.

There's two things that Dream fears, at least that he's seen fit to tell Hob: one, in the darkling hours of the morning, the both of them twined together, Hob pulling the duvet over Dream's thin shoulders and gathering him close, Dream whispering, do not go far from me, Hob Gadling, and that's its own sort of fear, one that Hob understands. He feels it, too.

The other, more insidious, he's seen only rarely. When light catches on a curve of glass just so; when someone speaks in a very specific register and tone; when the night is too quiet, and too slow, and Dream's fingers begin to scratch lines into the tabletops for want of something to occupy him. Dream has told him, in fits and starts, of a hundred years trapped within a glass sphere. He's never mentioned names, but now, in the way that he looks at this flyer, which Hob wants to rip from the wall and shred into a hundred pieces, he doesn't need to.

"How much of it was left?" he asks that night, and Dream tucks his head against Hob's chest, and says nothing. Hob touches his hair, his shoulders, the dear, thin line of his back, thumbing down the rungs of his spine in slow and gentle strokes. "Right. I've got a sledgehammer somewhere. Matty has a forge he made himself, I'm sure he's got something that can cut metal. Everything else we can have shipped out and we'll dump it into the sea."

I do not know if I can accompany you, Dream tells him, and Hob says, That's fine, love. Whatever you need to do. But there's not a chance in Hell that he's letting this opportunity slip by. It's become as much about his own peace of mind as Dream's -- he wants to see the thing that trapped his lover for a more than a century. Wants to see the glass and the iron, the struts and bolts, rendered down into molten slag. All these years and he's thought his great nemesis was his own selfishness, his own attempt to grasp the uncatchable, and yet Dream has said I would have come to you, if I were able, and Hob now realizes the truth: a few tons of scrap iron and lightning-struck sand were the only things that stood between him and Dream, for a hundred and thirty-three years. And he had never known.

It hurts. It hurts in a way that beggars the soul, and out of the centuries of his past he drags up a brigand's easy violence as he dumps petrol into the car. As he drives to Fawney Rig.

It's every bit as tasteless and huge as the picture implied it to be, and the man who opens the door to Hob is older, bent-backed, something soft and yielding about the shape of his shoulders. He takes in the sight of Hob on his doorstep, dirt-grimed burlap sack over one shoulder, the sledgehammer leaning like a loyal dog against the wall.

"Can I help you?"

"Hope so." He drops the bag. It makes a satisfying clanking noise. "Are you Paul McGuire? Put up a load of flyers for an estate sale?"

"I...yes. That's me. The sale isn't for another two weeks. I'm afraid you're rather early." There's something conciliatory about the way he talks. Some sharp and cavernous thing in him senses it, the way that owls can sense the shape of mice in tall grass. He longs for the feel of a good dagger in his hand. It's been a long time since he killed anyone, but he wants, and he recognizes that this is not good, he wants this gutless old man to put up a fight.

This man has never been bloodied nor bled another creature in his life. He'd make a fine target for a bandit, but for Hob's purposes, he's unsatisfying. He kicks the bag, instead.

"I'm not the mercenary I used to be," he says. "Better for you. There's about. Hm. A bit more than a kilo of gold bullion in that bag. It's old, but any jeweler will tell you it's pure. It's yours if you leave. Now."

"I don't. I don't understand."

"No," Hob says, unkindly. "You don't. Which is why I'm giving you this chance to leave. He said you were the one who let him out. Eventually. After a hundred and thirty-three years."

The man's face goes pale as clotted cream. He looks at the sledgehammer with new fear. He remembers this feeling, the intimacy of a knife held to the throat of one who deserves it. It's not one he anticipated dredging up, not once highway robbery went out of style, but it comes back to him as easy as riding a bicycle. Perhaps he should be worried about that.

He'll worry later. Paul McGuire is nodding slowly, looking ill, looking lost. "Is he here?" he asks, and Hob snorts.

"If he was," he says, "I wouldn't tell you."

And that, as they say, is that. Hob is left standing in the entry hall of Fawney Rig, the fading splendor of it, all its gothic twists and its vaguely occult symbolism wended through with high-quality electric lights and a security system to make the Queen weep. Paul hasn't left him a key. By the end of the night, he doesn't intend to need one anymore.

It makes as much sense to start from the ground up as anything else, and finding the stairs to the basement is easy. The hammer is a comfortable heft over his shoulder, and it's as he starts down into that long and sightless tunnel that he feels the shape take just behind him.

"Hello, love," he says, and Dream reaches out. Hob takes his hand, as easy as breathing. "You doing all right?"

"It looks different. From this direction."

"I imagine it would. You aren't alone this time, though." He squeezes the hand in his. It's like trying to squeeze a stone, cold and implacable. "And we're leaving here together."

"Hm." But the hand relaxes, in minute increments. He can feel Dream behind him, can feel the outline of his shoulders, can see the vague eyeshine cast upon the wall, but he doesn't look back. Hob's read that story before. He'll look back when the job is finished. When they leave Hell together.

"Let's finish what you started," he says, as they reach the bottom of the stairs. The ruin of the glass sphere sits in awful majesty in the center of a narrow moat; even from here, he can see the lines of yellow paint, the runes that bound Dream into an airless, feelingless void. The iron struts are lined with spikes; Hob wishes, abruptly, hotly, that he had only given Paul McGuire to the count of ten to leave. He hasn't any horse to ride him down, but he wouldn't have needed one anyways. An old man, and he with rage giving him winged feet.

"Right," he says, and let's go of Dream's hand, only long enough to heft the hammer properly. "Let's get started, darling. I'd like to be home in time to make you dinner."

He doesn't look back (he'll look back, he thinks, when he has reduced this poxy sphere to dust, when he has ground the iron into filings, when there is nothing left of this cursed mausoleum but concrete dust and burnt pages), but he feels the shape of Dream behind him. Can hear his smile.

It sounds like breaking glass. There's no music sweeter, Hob thinks, and lets the hammer fly.

[gnreadergames]

Weird Science

Egon Spengler x Named FTM!Male Oc

Content warnings: Some sexual tension leading into non-graphic sexual content, mostly sickeningly sweet shit, Egon’s a lil crazy, Alex likes em cooky, doctor kink?? Is that a thing? Idk, either way a PHD title is used in a way no one should use a PHD title. Unless they are freaks like me :3

A/N: Crawling out of my hole I’ve been in for *checks watch* like almost a year to bring you this. I have no excuses guys I just rewatched my favorite movie and wanted to fuck the science man again. Super self indulgent, also for my trans readers because I’ve noticed a lot of yall thirsting after this man are trans. Congratulations my niche little subjects, here’s some food.

Word count: 13,971. - Yes you read that right. I just really wanted to write some gooey porn about the science man okay?

‧˚₊꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒦꒷‧₊˚⊹

Egon Spengler sat alone in the firehouse, surrounded by the various specimen he had collected from a bust and the various machines created to catch and contain ghosts. He had just finished running diagnostics on the Proton Packs, fixing a bug that Peter had showed him on his, and was in the process of cataloging and tagging some new samples he had collected on their last bust of a succubus in a hotel.

Alex was quiet about accessing the stairs. The door to the bottom always squeaked but he made sure to pull it open extra slowly this time, and somehow successfully managed to make it all the way up to the top of the 2nd floor completely silently. Egon was perched at the main table in the kitchen up top. Its circular surface was covered with bagged petri-dishes, spore samples, and various robotic gadgets he guessed were for ghost hunting. He deftly approached from behind.

Egon’s head was down, nose intently tucked into whatever journal he was writing in now as Alex tiptoed up behind him and every so suddenly crouched down beside him to ear level and said, in a level inside voice, ‘Whatcha’ up to Spengs’?”.

Egon startled. It was Alex. It was rare for anyone to just come up behind him at the firehouse, but given recent events, he wasn't really surprised. He put down his pen, looking to get a better look at Alex.

"Hm? Oh, just going over the findings from our last bust. And the latest samples. It's all pretty...standard stuff, really. Nothing worth getting excited about."

“Yeah? Thought molds spores and fungi were your type of fun, guy-“ Alex laughed a little at his own joke, hand brushing the back of the chair and inadvertently brushing ever so briefly against Egon’s bare neck. Alex blushed slightly and hoped Egon was too focused to have noticed as he took a seat next to him.

Egon glanced up from his notes. Despite Alex making his presence very obvious, Egon had been so engrossed in his work that he barely noticed. Now, he was caught, and clearly flustered.

"Right. It's not that this sort of stuff isn't interesting. It's just..." He paused, trying to come up with the right words. "It's less exciting than seeing ghosts, you know? There's much less danger to it."

Alex cocked his head, curious. ”So is that why you do it?” He asked.

He thought for a moment, considering how to answer this question.

"In a sense, I suppose. There is always the hope that when I'm out investigating, I might encounter something truly new. Something unexpected and unpredictable. Something that could turn the whole study of ghosts on its head. And believe me, it's been a long time since we've had a true breakthrough in ghost related research."

“Is it the danger or is it the superiority? The control?” Alex blurted out without really thinking. When he realized what he said and how odd of a question it was “I just mean…” he stammered, “Do you think you like the danger, or do you like being in control? Do you like feeling powerful over the ghosts? Do you like the chase and the win? Kinda like a game…” Alex mumbled off, blushing. He felt like he only further incriminated himself into his line of thinking.

Egon laughed quietly. Clearly he wasn't offended by the question, even if it was a rather strange one. He was also more than a little intrigued.

"There is certainly an element of control, I must admit. I do like to think that I know what I'm doing out there." He paused, still smiling. "But at the same time, I'm also just as much at the mercy of the ghosts. There's always a certain...risk that I think I enjoy."

“Hm. You work in interesting ways ‘Spengs…” Alex hummed thoughtfully. His posture became a little more relaxed as he rested forward, chin on his elbow watching Egon tag samples and hum along to a janky radio he had sitting on an adjacent counter of the kitchen.

"Doctor Spengler, if you don't mind," Egon corrected, his tone only half-joking.

He glanced back down at his notes, making a few more small adjustments before finally setting the pen down.

"So you just...came over here to bother me while I work?"

“Mostly. It is my favorite pastime as you know.” Alex smirked, almost cat-like. Egon rolled his eyes, he knew the gentle teasing Alex put him through.

“Also, Doctor Spengler? What am I, one of your patients? Or do you just get a kick out of making people call you that?” Alex teased again, this time dropping his voice a little in a lusty tone that made him laugh trying to get it out in one piece.

Egon smirked, rolling his eyes in return. Alex's teasing was one of the things he actually did kind of enjoy.

”The latter, if I'm being perfectly honest. Not that I'll ever admit it."

He crossed his arms, leaning back in his chair.

"But you have to admit, Doctor is a much nicer title than Mr. Or even Professor. That title's always been a little too pretentious for its own good," he continued to banter.

I like Mr. in…” Alex paused, looking pensively upwards, “certain contexts. Like if you were to get married. Mr. And Mrs. Or er, Mr. And Mr…” Alex said casually. He hadn’t formally come out to Egon but he knew Venkman’s little vermin hands had background checked him enough to know his dating preferences already and his gender. And to be fully honest, he liked Egon more than anybody else here, even if he’d only admit it under extreme duress, or maybe too much alcohol.

So he deserved to know.

Or maybe Alex was a little desperate to share practically anything about himself in hopes of getting closer to the other man.

Egon's eyebrow raised slightly, hearing this. Alex hadn't come out to him directly, but this felt pretty obvious. It wasn't an issue to Egon anyway, but he was curious to know now.

"Alex...are you telling me you're interested in...men?"

He cleared his throat, his tone a bit nervous. He wasn't sure how to react.

“Oh-“ Alex hadn’t expected Egon to ask him so directly. But then again, he never was one for taking hints. “Yeah, I am.”

His face was redder than usual and it was obvious Egon’s bluntness had caught him slightly off guard and flustered him.

“I hope that isn’t a problem with you. I really like…spending time with you Egon.” Alex said. He wanted to leave it vague, for now at least. He didn’t even know if Egon was into men, let alone if Egon considered him a friend let alone a potential romantic interest. He didn’t want to jump the guns too fast here.

Egon looked at him, taking a moment to collect his thoughts.

"Alex...I have no problem with it. I'm very happy to spend time with you as well. I just...wasn't expecting you to say that."

For a moment, he seemed like he was going to say something more. But he held back, thinking better of it, clearly not sure what to actually say right now.

"Just didn't have you pegged as one who...preferred men's company."

“Oh really?” Alex laughed, he could lighten the mood up a bit hopefully. “What did you have me pegged for then, ‘Spengs?” he asked, leaning forward on his elbows curiously.

Egon laughed quietly as well.

"Well, you seem like you'd have an eye for the ladies." He grinned, still in an obviously good-natured way. "If you're into guys, then you're not exactly...what I would call 'typically gay' looking."

“Well…thanks?” Alex laughed. “I’m into women too, so I guess I would be in the middle of whatever spectrum you’re thinking of.”

He crumpled up a loose straw wrapper from Egon’s ginger ale and started to flick it back and forth between his fingers, nervously.

Egon nodded. He didn't seem all that surprised by this; if anything he had always got the sense that Alex was at least a little bit bi-curious, given some of the conversations they'd had.

"Right. The ol' 'bisexual' thing." He joked.

Suddenly he looked at Alex again, with an expression of sudden realization.

"Wait. Wait a minute. Are you...are you saying..."

His eyes widened slightly.

“What? Not so blunt now Egon?” Alex questioned.

“Are you...hitting on me?”

Egon looked at him, and this time his tone seemed to be one of genuine curiosity, mixed with amusement.

“Who said anything about hitting on you? Just thought you should know.” Alex was very clearly red around the apples of his cheeks and ears. He was at least embarrassed, if not caught.

Egon felt something warm and vulnerable flutter underneath one of his ribs. He swallowed.

Alex was stubborn and obviously determined not to be caught this fast in this little game they had been playing, the roughly 3 weeks of back and forth bantering, the casual drink after work when everyone else had already left, and of course, decidedly ignoring whatever happened after the attack on New York when he saw Egon exit the building safely, if not covered in goo.

Even though he, and he’s pretty sure Egon too, both remember it, neither of them have brought it up in a serious manner.

Egon laughed quietly, shaking his head. He was surprised sure, but he certainly wasn't upset. If anything, the opposite.

They were alone together, no one to hear or see anything. No one to interrupt them. Egon took a deep breath.

"Okay. I'll be honest," he said, looking Alex directly in the eye. "If you were trying to get me to figure out you're interested in me, then that definitely did the trick."

Alex smiled. It was different from his usually sly cat-like grin. This time, it was a softer, less slick looking smile with some genuine warmth behind it.

“And why would somebody as astute as the doctor Egon Spengler care about such a thing?” Alex asked, feigning being coy.

Egon had to laugh at that, shaking his head. Alex was a lot of things, but one thing he most certainly was not was subtle.

"I care because..." he paused, his smile becoming a bit broader. Despite their teasing back and forth, he was suddenly being completely genuine.

"Actually, this is probably pretty obvious, but..." He let the rest go unsaid for a moment. He didn't know what he wanted to come next. If he actually wanted to stay casual, or if he wanted more.

Alex swallowed audibly with how quiet the room had gotten suddenly.

“Egon….do you….like me?” Alex asked softly. He felt like he was dreaming, like he would wake up at any moment and this would all have been some fevered imagination of a sickly brain, a brain obsessed with this gorgeous brainiac.

Egon's face was a shade of pink now...a very noticeable pink. He shifted in his seat, clearly a bit flustered.

"I..." he said quietly. "...yes." He raised his hands up slightly, as if trying to steady himself.

"I mean...if you're okay with what that means and all that...is it...alright if I'm honest with you?"

“Please” Alex begged, voice wavering. He wanted this so much he didn’t know how to ask with words. He had practiced this scenario a thousand times over in his head as he tried to fall asleep night after night and still, he didn’t know how to respond to this. “Be honest.”

Egon swallowed, trying to gather his thoughts and his breath.

"Okay...well...I...I don't think I could have made it through the last few months without you." His words came out in spurts, each sentence broken up by pauses as he lost himself in his thoughts.

"There's always been something about you. Something I've found...really irresistible. Your mind, your energy...your...your...ahem...your...um...your...looks" He smirked softly as he finished that last sentence.

Alex flushed bright red.

Up until 10 minutes ago he had doubts the doctor even had the capabilities to be attracted to anybody, much less a man, and to hear that he had potentially been being discreetly checked out around the office made a slight sweat break out under his collared shirt and tie.

Not that he hadn’t been doing the same thing to Egon a few times when he worked… who can blame him? He flushed even harder thinking about one specific time and broke eye contact, embarrassed.

Egon couldn't help but chuckle at this. He could tell that he'd caught a very sensitive nerve. A grin spread across his face as he shook his head, still laughing a bit.

"God you're cute when you get like this," Egon said, almost teasingly.

His tone became more serious again, as he leaned forward a bit closer towards Alex.

"Can I ask you something?"

“Y-“ Alex had to swallow, mouth suddenly becoming dry as Egon leaned ever closer. “Yeah.” His eyes couldn’t look anywhere by Egon now, and he was sure his face was visibly red by now if it wasn’t before.

Egon took a deep breath, steeling himself for what he was about to say.

"Before, you said you hadn't formally told me...about...your preferences. Was there a specific reason for this? Because I'd like to know if..."

He stopped there, looking into Alex's warm brown eyes. He took another deep breath.

"Was it because you weren't sure about my preferences?"

Alex caught a nervous laugh. He didn’t want Egon to think he was laughing at him, he was just so relieved they might possibly be on the same page and that this wasn’t another time Alex would be head over heels for another guy that would leave him the first chance he got a hotter woman to look at him.

“Yeah…I was just… curious is all.” Alex looked down at the floor, nervous and a bit embarrassed to be that easy to read. “Took you long enough…I think the others were starting to think I was just weird.”

Egon smirked, letting out an amused sigh.

"Well, they're not necessarily...wrong about that." He said, teasingly as always. But it was clear that he didn't mean it in an offensive way.

When Alex said he was curious, Egon understood. He had always wondered why Alex had never talked much about personal subjects like that. He was starting to see why now.

"Right. Well, I think it's my turn to be honest, yeah?"

“I think it is, doctor.” Alex teased back. Now that he knew Egon liked using that little word he was going to be sure to make it difficult. Especially if this conversation was going the way he thought it was.

Egon grinned, playing along for now.

"Okay. My turn to be honest, then."

He looked at Alex, his expression more serious again.

"I'm still confused on one thing, though. Can I ask you a personal question?"

”Go ahead” Alex said. He supposed he could be honest about it all now since he’d been pretty much found out.

Egon breathed. "Alright. I can't help but notice that after every time we have a bust, something happens between us...how do I say this? More than before. Have you ever...noticed that too?”

Egon paused to take a deep breath, still holding his eye contact. This was the moment of truth. He'd known that for some time now, the two of them were beginning to develop feelings for each other. But he'd held back, not wanting to push it too fast. But now he couldn't hold back anymore. He needed to know if Alex had noticed too.

”I’ve…” Alex had to choose his words carefully. “I’ve noticed it too. When I started working here last year…” Alex shifted nervously and then suddenly became more serious, sitting up and placing his hands on the table. “When I started working here last year I didn’t think much about it. It was supposed to just be a stepping stone to bigger things, being the Ghostbusters official PR manager is nothing to sneeze at and I thought if I just hung out here long enough I could get a job somewhere on Wall Street, bigger things, better pay…” Alex swallowed. “But then I started to like hanging out with you guys. And then we became friends, and suddenly it became a lot harder to see it as just a job. And then after…well to be honest right before the New York attack, that night you walked me home after we were the last two here, I think I sort of thought about you differently than the rest of them.”

Alex didn’t know how to explain it, it was difficult putting it into words. “I think I realized I cared about you more. In a different way I mean. Sure I’m friends with Venkmen and Stanz and Zeddemore, but I didn’t see you like I saw them. I wanted to get to know you more, I knew it when I said goodnight to you and it was snowing on my doorstep. And you smiled at me. I think I knew then. And then of course right after that big attack happened and I thought for sure you were dead, we had no clue how anything was going to play out and I just remembered feeling like I could die of happiness seeing you walk out of that building, and…I guess before I knew it I was already moving to you. I don’t really know why I hugged you, I was just…glad you were okay. I was glad I hadn’t missed my chance with you, I guess. I hadn’t realized how special you were to me.”

Egon's eyes were locked on Alex's every breath, every word. It was like he was seeing him in an entirely different light right now. They'd flirted and teased back and forth before, but everything here sounded so much more genuine and sincere. Like they weren't even playing a game anymore, they were being very real with each other. It was a beautiful thing.

Egon swallowed, his heart pounding inside his chest. He felt like...like this was it.

"Can I be honest with you about something, too?"

“Anything.” Alex breathed. He felt like he was going to explode admitting all of that.

Egon swallowed, his heart pounding even faster. Just like Alex he was ready to explode. But he had to get this off his chest. Now that they'd started, he couldn't think of a reason to stop.

"I've never...I've never felt the way about anyone before the way that I feel about you. I didn't even realize it at first but I've been..." He couldn't believe he was saying all this. "...I've been thinking about you a lot. Too damn much of the time, actually."

Alex smiled, giddy and carefree. He felt a little dizzy with nerves.

“Really?” He breathed, excitedly. “I’m so glad. I can’t stop thinking about you, I felt like I was going crazy. I think even Venkman picked up on it this past month when you went on that blind date Stanz set you up on.”

Egon chuckled, a wide grin on his face.

"Yeah...can't say it was a successful date."

He thought back to the disaster of a date he'd been set up with a few weeks ago. It was pretty damn clear to even Venkman. So maybe they were a little more transparent than they should have been with their feelings of late towards their friend’s attempts to set them up with other people.

"I feel stupid for letting it take this long to acknowledge any of this."

“Maybe we’re both stupid.” Alex thought, dumbly. But he couldn’t let anything dampen his mood right now. He felt like he was floating, almost drunk with happiness.

“So Mr. Scientist,” he said, balancing his chin on his hand and reaching an index finger to fiddle around with the lid of an empty Petri dish in front of him, “tell me about what you think about me. What’s been on that big brain of yours?” He purred.

Egon felt his heart skip a beat when Alex started flirting with him. He wasn't used to it, but he really liked it. What he liked even more was the idea that someone as brilliant and attractive as Alex thought this way about him.

Egon chuckled, his lips curling up into a smirk. "You want me to be honest about what I think about you?"

“Honesty is the best policy” Alex nodded, intrigued.

"Yeah...yeah it definitely is." Egon leaned forward, his gaze even more intense than before.

"I think you're absolutely brilliant. Not just in terms of your science...but your mind itself. That sharp, witty mind of yours is such a...turn on." His smirk became a bit more mischievous as he spoke. "I love it when you try to outwit a person in conversation, when you get all riled up and competitive.... I love even more that I've never seen you lose."

“You have such a way with your stupid words.” Alex giggled. He was sure he was making a fool of himself but he couldn’t believe somebody like the Egon Spengler found him attractive. He could count on one hand the times he’d been this lucky in his entire life.

“You really know how to flatter a guy,” Alex admitted, tracing the rim of the Petri dish with the same finger absentmindedly.

Egon smiled, chuckling at that, but not denying the accuracy.

"I wasn't kidding when I said your mind turns me on."

He leaned in even closer, his gaze burning into Alex's. He looked at the way Alex was tracing the rim of his empty petri dish and had an idea.

"I have a suggestion..."

“Shoot.” Alex said, sharpening the ‘T’ sound, almost bitingly.

Egon swallowed, almost nervous looking. But he thought this would be the perfect way to test the waters, to see just how interested Alex really was before he took it a step further.

"Close your eyes..."

“Okay.” Alex said, cautiously but trusting. He knew Egon wouldn’t hurt him and if anything, not knowing what was coming next and being completely at the will of the other man kind of made him feel safe. It was nice. It made his heart race a little.

He shut his eyes gently, waiting.

Egon smirked, enjoying the game he was playing. He stood up, and slowly started moving behind Alex, his movements very subtle and patient. When he got behind him, he took the same index finger that Alex had been tracing the edge of the Petri dish with and ran it softly, delicately over the back of Alex's neck, sliding it into his hair and slowly running it through.

Alex shivered at the touch.

Christ.

Okay.

He hadn’t been expecting this. Egon wasn’t a touchy person, not even in the throes of victory, so this was new, and honestly thrilling for Alex.

“Egon…” Alex practically purred, keening towards the touch. He liked it. He liked it a lot.

Egon smiled, pleased with the way Alex reacted to it. He decided to go a step further, and slowly, still using only his one index finger, started stroking Alex's hair down his neck, and eventually down his shoulders as he continued to trace a line down Alex's back.

Alex shivered and twitched with every vertebrae that Egon ran his finger past.

“This another one of your experiments, doctor?” Alex teased with a voice lower and slower than normal, but this time the air was thicker with something unspoken and unseen. But it could be very, very felt. Distantly, Alex was glad everyone else had taken this Saturday off.

Egon smirked. He loved that he was making Alex squirm, that he was clearly enjoying this so much. Alex's lower and slower voice made his chest tremble with a mix of emotion. A mix of excitement and fear. He was enjoying this, this flirtatious back and forth, but now he was feeling more daring…

"No experiment...this is something...much more personal."

“And what exactly are you testing here?” Alex asked. He still hadn’t opened his eyes yet, but now he thought he couldn’t bear not being able to see Egon for a second longer. He opened his eyes, and titled his head slightly back and was met with an angled view of his affections.

His heart skipped a beat. He wasn’t expecting Egon to look anything less than well…perfect. But this was new. Egon’s once soft brown eyes looked almost black with how dilated his pupils were, and his olive completion was a richer red tone around his face and ears. He may be more cognitively in control of the situation, but it was good to see that he was just as affected by Alex as he was by Egon.

Egon smirked and stepped even closer, their mouths finally just inches away from one another. He watched as the corners of Alex's lips quivered ever so slightly, and he couldn't help but feel a wave of joy sweep over him.

"My test..." Egon's voice was lower, and more seductive than ever. "...is to see exactly how far I can push it before you can't take it anymore."

As he spoke, he leaned just a tiny bit closer. Their lips were almost touching…

“Egon,” Alex’s voice was barely a whisper but it somehow only came out as a strung out whimper. He titled his head back ever so slightly more and he felt Egon’s breath hot on his lips.

Alex would beg for mercy if he had to. He just wanted Egon. He was so happy he could cry. His entire body felt like it was vibrating with how wired and nervous he was.

Egon knew at this point he couldn't hold back anymore. It was obvious he was just as nervous as Alex was. And in this intense moment, he needed to let him know that. His hands fell to Alex's shoulders and he pulled him even closer, so their chests were pressing sharply up against one another.

Egon's voice was lower than the lowest, as he began to whisper right back.

"God do you know how badly I want you, right now? What I would do to you if I could right this second?"

Alex’s head spun. Who was this? His Egon was quiet and professional, but he couldn’t deny that he hadn’t thought of this side of Egon, better said, dreamed of Egon having a side like this. He knew Egon was a man of control, and rules, but he also knew Egon, like every man, had buttons.

And buttons, could be pressed.

“We’re alone for the day.” Alex reminded. Egon was so close their foreheads were pressed together. Eyes locked.

Egon froze at that, the only sound in the room was their heavy breathing. He felt Alex's body pressed up against him, his heart pounding in his ears. His lips were mere centimeters apart, now. And he was suddenly hit with a wave of...nerve? Fear? Excitement?

Finally, Egon's mind won the war within.

"God damn it, it's taking every ounce of self control I have right now not to just start ripping you apart with my teeth..." he said, eyes darker than before.

Oh.

A little crazy.

Alex could work with a little crazy.

“Please-” let it never be said that Alex was above begging, because he wasn’t. Especially not for Egon. He would beg for Egon to call him worthless and pathetic. He would beg for Egon to spit on him. Egon being nice to him? Practically as strong as cocaine straight to the brain.

Alex leaned forward and clumsily brushed his lips against Egon’s for a mere second before pulling back, mouth slightly open, eyes lidded. He wanted Egon to want this as much as him. He wanted Egon to want him.

Egon stared into Alex's eyes, his heart racing a thousand miles a minute. Just seeing Alex's lips meet his, even for just one brief contact, sent a jolt of pure euphoria through his entire body. He'd never realized just how much he'd wanted this...how much he'd wanted Alex, until this very moment.

Finally, he did it. Before he had a chance to second guess his actions, Egon let his instincts take over. He leaned forward and pulled Alex back into him with one firm and quick motion. He then proceeded to take over this kiss…

Alex gasped into the kiss. He wasn’t expecting Egon to be this rough, but he guessed there was a certain aspect of desperation on both of their ends. Egon felt like he was devouring him. Alex’s knees felt like they were going to buckle, and he was lowering slowly, slowly, with pathetic little noises as Egon kissed the breath out of him.

He broke for a second, as Egon leaned over him, pushing his back into the chair, legs straddling it weakly. “Eg-“ he gasped as Egon went in for another kiss, just as hungry as the last. Alex broke away again, more determinedly “I’ve wanted this for so long. So, so, long…” his legs still weak, he leaned into Egon’s chest and arms, holding him.

Egon was in almost as much of a stupor as Alex, that little bit he'd tasted of him before had sent his heart soaring to new heights. His whole body felt alive, every single nerve. He couldn't believe how much he had wanted this, how badly he'd want to take it even further. But right now, was just the two of them, alone, the downstairs door locked.

As Alex spoke, Egon squeezed him harder by instinct alone. It was only making him yearn for much, much more…

“How long?” Alex asked between kisses. His right knee gave out and he felt Egon pull away. He made a weak noise of protest as Egon’s body pulled from his, until he realized he was being pulled with it and spun around. Suddenly, he found himself being picked up by the hips and sat gingerly and quickly onto the edge of the table, legs straddled and Egon standing in between. He kissed Alex again, tongue slipping into his mouth. He obviously didn’t seem content with the position though, too far, as he broke apart again soon after to grab Alex’s hips and yank him toward Egon’s standing ones, legs locking behind his back.

“Since when?” Alex asked again. “When did you know?” He felt drunk as Egon moved to kiss his jawline.

Egon smirked when he realized what Alex was actually asking him. To have someone this sharp, this witty being so...weak in your hands was an incredibly intoxicating experience. But the time to pick was over, now was all about play.

"God I don't know...it's been a while." Egon moved back in to capture Alex's mouth once again, holding onto his hips for dear life. "Since I started to want to see the sides of you that weren't professional, that weren't strictly business...I wanted to see exactly how human you could be."

“I’ve wanted you since that day in January. The one where we had the poltergeist in the-ah!” Alex winced as Egon moved to his neck and bit at a sensitive spot just under his ear, soft tender flesh. “S-since, that day- when- when you came back to the lab in your- your lab clothes all-” Alex’s left hand, the stronger of the two, came up to grasp at the dress shirt stretched over Egon’s back, “and th-they were all singed and dusty, and you were covered in- mmhp- sweat, and you didn’t even look at me when you-you” Egon kissed Alex to shut him up briefly, and for a moment there was nothing but the noise of soft, labored breathing and the creaking of the wooden table as they pressed against one another, but eventually Egon let him go in favor of biting at his neck again. “You- you didn’t even look at me, just rolled, rolled up your sleeves and went to work in your lab. All serious, brow furrowed, covered in grime but still wanting to get data while- ah- it’s fresh-“ Alex smiled remembering it. He still felt fuzzy and the memory was still fresh. “You’re incredibly toned for a scientist did- did you know that?” Alex asked in a breathy voice. “You have a great- great body.”

Egon huffed a laugh against his neck.

Egon couldn't help but feel his ego inflate and his cheek turn red from Alex's compliment. He'd never considered just how toned his body was, especially with his lack of exercise and all his nerdy, intellectual pursuits. As Alex rambled on, Egon couldn't help but get more turned on.

He smirked as he bit down on Alex's neck again and felt his lips twitch against it, as if Alex was moaning.

"I think you might be the first person in a while who's actually taken the time to notice..."

“How could I not?” Alex asked. Egon had momentarily paused his nipping and chewing to lift his head and look up at Alex. His big, dark eyes were even darker than usual and it was hard to see where his pupil and iris even separated.

He looked, almost animal with it.

Alex had never seen a not very methodically, almost scientifically, controlled side of Egon. This made some part of Alex’s hindbrain flicker with a warmth he had only felt on lonely nights he spent fantasizing with his own hand and brain.

Egon smirked and tilted his head up as he looked at Alex's face, that perfect, beautiful, wonderful face that had eluded him and teased him for so long. He just couldn't get enough. Every part of his body was tingling with pleasure and desire. He wanted nothing more than to take Alex right here and right now.

"You look beautiful." Egon said it sincerely, truly believing every word of it. But then he leaned up and whispered, his voice a mischievous and enticing husk. "I'm going to make you even more beautiful..."

Alex complied limply. Whatever Egon wanted. Alex felt himself slipping quietly under into that mindset he loved so much. He didn’t need control. He trusted Egon. Whatever he wanted. He knew best. He wanted to make him proud. He wanted to do whatever would make Egon happy.

Alex reached his neck desperately towards Egon and caught one last desperate kiss with a small sound before he finally gave in and let Egon do whatever he wished.

As he watched Alex willingly yield to him, Egon couldn't help but smirk. The look on his face was just as he pictured: submissive, trusting, almost worshiping. He couldn't wait to push the limits of this power and see just how desperate his new lab assistant and lover was.

So Egon did just that, pushing Alex's shirt up and kissing his collarbone, slowly making his way up to his neck again. He bit and nibbled at his collar bone, all while rubbing his hands along Alex's back and hips.

“Ah!” Alex gasped. He was particularly sensitive on his hips, and once Egon knew, he used it devilishly. His thumb ran a steady back and forth rhythm over a ridge in his V-line, making Alex shiver. Another hand curled possessively over Alex’s back and made him preen with a particularly fiery feeling in his chest. Alex continued making weak and steady noises as Egon worked over his collarbone, biting and kissing everywhere he could reach, hands moving to grasp the skin he couldn’t cover with his mouth.

The power and the control that he was asserting over Alex was making Egon feel like he was in some kind of haze, like he was just floating around in a sea of bliss, a euphoric dream that he didn't want to ever end.

The way Alex reacted to his touch made his own heart skip a beat, hearing him make those soft little sounds as he nibbled just so slightly harder on his neck and collarbone. It was pushing all his buttons, making him want so much more…

“Please-” Alex begged, not entirely sure what exactly he was begging for. Whatever Egon would give him. Whatever Egon thought he deserved. Alex’s hands, at one point limp around Egon’s waist, now were clenched tightly into his shirt and his hair, respectively, as Alex’s body curled into Egon’s.

Egon shivered again as he heard Alex beg him, heard him pleading for more.

This was exactly what he had been dreaming of. A completely submissive Alex, one who would let Egon take control completely, one who would gladly turn over every inch of his body to Egon for...for whatever Egon wanted.

It was such a turn on that Egon couldn't even form whole sentences, his thoughts were getting the best of him and his body was ready to take...no, to take control.

“Whatever you want.” Alex wanted more. Whatever Egon would give him. He laid flat on the table as Egon pulled away and surveyed him quickly, eyes flitting across his body as a whole, flushed, shirt pushed up, hands clutching feverishly at the flat table finding nothing to grab on to.

Egon smirked, loving the look of desperation on Alex's face, knowing that he was completely and utterly at his mercy now. And as Egon looked over him, his eyes trailing up and down his body, it was like Alex's features became bolder, brighter, more handsome. He looked like a perfect specimen to him, to the point where Egon almost couldn't take his eyes off of him.

"I'm going to make your day today..."

“What are you going to do?” Alex asked, although he really didn’t need to know. He was okay with whatever. As long as Egon was happy with him, he’d do it.

Egon brushed a hand along the side of Alex’s stomach and Alex made a little hurt, punched out noise from his gut and curled into the touch, but it was gone almost as fast as it appeared.

"Just...just close your eyes for me and stay still for a minute." Egon's voice was heavy, and slightly out of breath. He was almost desperate himself, he needed this just as much as Alex, and he was willing to do whatever it took to make Alex want him and love him for the rest of his life.

Alex could almost physically feel Egon's desire in the air, his need for more, seeping off from him as it grew with every passing second. Egon's body was trembling, his breath quick and shallow.

”Okay…” Alex swallowed for the first time in a while, finding his mouth dry but his lips slick with spit. He felt slightly debauched, but he preened at the knowledge that it was Egon who made him this way. Only for Egon.

He sat patiently and waited for whatever Egon had next.

Egon watched as Alex closed his eyes, watching him with baited breath and a deep seated hunger his lips were practically quivering with desire. And as he watched, the hunger inside him only grew more intense.

Quickly, his hands traced along the top of Alex's body, down his sides, all the way down to his thighs, caressing and teasing his body, making sure there wasn't a single inch missed.

Alex whimpered. He felt crazed. Egon’s hands felt so large and warm, almost feverish. Everywhere he touched felt like it was melting. Alex was practically drunk off the feeling as he squirmed with every new press into tender flesh that Egon figured out could make him writhe.

Just the sound of Alex's squirms was enough for Egon to get worked up even more, each touch and each squeeze of his body had him trembling with desire, his body quivering with excitement, ready to explode out in a fit of sheer pleasure.

Egon's hands moved faster, his touches more firm. He was determined to tease every last ounce of sound out of him that he could.

“Please, enough teasing!” Alex begged. He was almost crying now. His heart has been racing this entire time. He still had one more secret to tell Egon and the longer the foreplay went on, the more nervous he got about telling him.

Hearing that voice break out in tears in response to his touches only sparked more hunger in Egon's chest, but when he heard the pleading come from Alex's mouth, that was enough to cause the last pieces of resistance to crumble. He had to. No more teasing, no more playing, this was the real deal. He needed him now.

"All right, yes, I will, just...just let me-" Egon said, but his words were cut short by his own mouth coming down hard against Alex's.

Alex moaned loudly. Perhaps the loudest one yet as Egon’s hands grabbed his hips and seared him against his pelvis firm. He could feel…a certain hardness against his leg as Egon’s tongue explored his mouth and practically stole his oxygen away.

Egon groaned into the kiss, the sound rumbling up from deep in his chest. He couldn't hold himself back much longer now, the only thing on his mind was getting more. More of this perfect body, more of the sound of his pleas and whimpers.

Egon's hand moved downwards, squeezing firmly and squeezing Alex tighter against him. It was all he could do to keep himself from pushing him down and taking what he wanted right then and there.

As Egon’s hand moved downward, Alex’s hand suddenly shot out and grabbed his wrist in a moment of blind panic and clarity. It shocked Alex as much as it did Egon and for a moment they both simply stared at one another, panting, flushed.

“Egon…Eg-I’m…” Alex started, trying to word something but seemingly choking on it. “I need to tell you something before…before we do anything else.” Alex’s heart was in his throat. He thought he wouldn’t even get past the admission of him being bisexual, he didn’t know how to breech this. “Egon…I’m transgender.” Alex swallowed, throat tight with want as much as it was with fear.

Egon froze, hand still in mid air when he heard the words coming out of Alex's mouth. His breathing stopped, his heart beating out of his chest, it was a miracle that he didn't fall off of the table he was sitting on. Egon just stared, his mind whirring a million miles a second, trying to process what Alex had just told him.

All movement stopped.

God.

God.

He’d ruined it.

Ruined it.

Alex’s face burned with embarrassment. He knew Egon wouldn’t want him after this. He just thought…he doesn’t know what he thought…that in some miracle Egon would accept him?

His face burns with more than embarrassment, with shame.

He gets ready for Egon to push off and potentially even hit him. For baiting him. For being…a freak.

"Say that again."

It wasn't the reply Alex expected. It wasn't words that expressed disgust or anger or shame, but something deeper- something that spoke volumes to the depth of his emotions for him. Egon was breathless, his mind a million miles a second, but the intensity of the words in his throat were only getting stronger. He needed to hear it one more time to make sure he wasn't just hearing things.

Alex swallowed.

“I’m…I’m transgender.” He said, voice barely above a whisper.

His hand gripped the table’s edge, he could reach it from where Egon had pulled him closer to his hips. He was sweating, both from being hot, so so hot, pressed up against Egon, but also from nerves and anxiety chewing at his gut.

Egon's stomach flipped, his heart racing as blood rushed to every inch of his body. His mind was completely overwhelmed by the news he was just told, and he felt the heat and the intensity growing inside him again. But this time it was mixed with something new, with a hunger that he's never experienced before.

"Just one question..." Egon asked, his voice thick and heavy with desire and love. His body was trembling with need now, his heart ready to explode into sparks and flames.

”Yeah?” Alex whimpered.

Egon reached forward, grabbing Alex's wrist, pulling him closer, almost into a hug so he could whisper something in his ear.

"Are you a man?"

”Yes” Alex squeezed his eyes shut and whispered. Egon was so close.

"That's all I care about."

Egon's breath was so hot and heavy as he spoke, it felt like his words were igniting the room. He finally let go of Alex's wrist, his body trembling uncontrollably as all the desire he felt before seemed to have reached its peak. He was ready to take him, to mold him into whatever shape he found most desirable.

Jesus.

Jesus.

Alex felt like he was going to pass out. Or die. Maybe both.

His head was practically spinning. Egon’s hands grabbed his hips harder and slid down, brushing the waistband of his pants slightly further, exposing his hips and the beginning of a small happy trail.

He could cry.

He was so happy.

He was crying he realized. Tears slipped from his eyes as Egon began biting at his collarbone again.

Egon was like a heat seeking missile, his mouth, his lips, his teeth moving to whatever place he could find that would generate the most response out of Alex. He couldn't get enough of him, his lips trailing down his neck, down to his shoulders, his hand caressing his hips as he slowly pulled him even closer so he could bite, and bite, and scratch, and maul, and love every inch of him like he was a starving animal after the meal that had been denied him for months on end.

”Egon-“ Alex whimpered. His hands clawed at the thin fabric stretched over Egon’s back. He had money to afford the expensive thick type, Alex knew exactly what he was getting paid, but he also knew Egon preferred practical. Something he loved about him. He wasn’t afraid to come back to the lab dripping in ectoplasm or singed with soot.

In fact, maybe now Alex would finally have an excuse to get all those ruined cheap shirts off him.

Alex kissed at Egon’s mouth when he could. Brief, wet, desperate kisses.

Egon's mind was filled with nothing but Alex now, the sweet sound of his cries, the feel of his fingernails digging into his back, the way his body fit so neatly against his own....he couldn't go back, he didn't want to, he didn't intend on letting go of him until he finally saw him broken, broken and his, his alone.

Egon's desire continued to grow with every passing second, his breath getting heavier, his movements becoming more aggressive. He needed more.

“Whatever you want. Do whatever- I Just- ah - I need more” Alex pleaded. He knew it was pathetic. Begging to be taken, especially by someone he admired so much. He wanted Egon to think he was an equal, someone to be taken seriously. Not just some…whore. Something cheap to be broken.

But…maybe…just maybe…

He would like to be Egon’s anything.

He could be Egon’s plaything if he wanted. He’d bend.

He’s submit. He’d even let Egon break him, as long as he put him back together at the end.

And he would.

Because he knew Egon.

He trusted Egon.

So…

“More” he begged.

Egon's mind was just pure adrenaline now, thoughts coming one after another like a machine gun firing. Thoughts of him, of how he made this boy want him so desperately, how he trusted him so much that he'd let him do anything, even let him break him...it was everything he'd ever dreamed of and now that it was actually a reality it was all he could think about.

Egon's hands slid down to his back, gripping him harder, pulling him closer as his breath got heavier and heavier…

Alex bucked his hips against Egon, and the sweet friction that was there for less than a second lit a spark in his mind. He felt like goo. He was a specimen. All for Egon.

Now that he thought about it…he wouldn’t mind being examined like a subject. Put on display for the doctor.

Alex shivered at the thought.

“I really-really want you” Alex breathed, clutching at him.

Egon's movements slowed down as he saw how much he was affecting Alex now, how his actions were making the man absolutely tremble with desire and need. He savored the feeling, enjoying the feeling of his own dominance and the power it gave him. He could make Alex do anything, make him do anything he wanted…

"I want you bad..." Egon breathed, his voice heavy and thick with need as his mouth came down to Alex's neck, kissing and nipping along the way. Egon was trembling all over now.

”Then do something about it,” Alex bit, and leaned back baring his neck to Egon who bit it with a feverish intensity.

Egon moaned, the sound echoing in his ears as he bit and nicked along the sensitive areas on Alex's neck.

"What do you think I'm doing right now?"

Egon's grip on him had begun to loosen, but it was only so he could move one of his hands around to push Alex's hips forward and make him buck even harder against him.

“AH!” Alex jumped as one of Egon’s hands slid down his back and into the back of his pants. It cupped flesh, squeezing. Alex rocked against the touch, his front brushing against Egon’s feeling just how excited he was by this.

“I want more though…” Alex pawed at Egon’s neatly tucked shirt, finally managing to ruck the back up enough to grab skin just on the small of his back. He tried to pull him closer. “There are beds just a few rooms away you know…” Alex bit at Egon’s ear and got an almost growl-like sound in response.

Egon's mouth left his neck as he heard his ear being nipped on, making his grip on him tight again. He'd been thinking the same thing, the pull of their bodies together was too much to pass up.

"You know what? You're right..." Egon murmured, the only sound the deep breathing of the both of them as Egon began to push Alex towards the beds, eager for the chance to give him everything he wanted.

Alex stumbled blindly, stupidly, towards the bunk room. He knew which bed was Egon’s, and was suddenly thankful for the twin size, as it meant they would have to be as close as possible.

“Egon…” Alex breathed as he stumbled backwards onto the bed, Egon’s hands cupping his jaw. Alex begun to work on pulling the front of Egon’s shirt out of his slacks.

Egon's heart was pounding in his chest, the sound just loud and heavy in his head as he watched Alex start to pull down his shirt. His mouth was dry as all of the blood had rushed to his lower half at this point, making his entire body feel hot all over. He was practically shaking with every touch of Alex's hands as he held himself back at the moment. He could let himself go later, he had to wait just a few more seconds…

”Can I?” Alex asked, practically doe eyed as he looked up at Egon, flushed with lips wet with spit.

His hands fumbled with the zipper of Egon’s pants and the buckle of his belt. This was the only time he cursed how perfectly dressed Egon was. It got in his way of what he really wanted right now.

"Oh... oh yes.”

Egon's entire body was trembling in anticipation, his entire being was just craving for anything he could get from Alex and now to think that he was going to let him take off his pants to get to him....he was not going to last long if this continued.

Alex deftly and quickly undid Egon’s belt and zipper with a speed that told Egon he had done this before, and a primal, stupid part of Egon’s brain flared with jealousy. He wanted to kill whoever taught Alex that. Alex was his.

Alex yanked Egon’s slacks down and his briefs along with it. Quickly, he nosed along the V of Egon’s hips with the ferocity of a starved animal. He licked and kissed anywhere he could get his mouth to.

Egon couldn't stop the guttural sound of pleasure that came from his mouth, his legs wobbling with every touch of Alex's tongue and mouth. His breath was heavy and sharp, his body trembling with the intense desire now coursing through him.

Alex’s hands moved to cover whatever he couldn’t get with his mouth. He wanted this to be good for Egon. He wanted to be good for Egon. He made sure to keep his teeth out of the way, using his tongue mostly. He was still shy, new at this despite the fever with which he undressed Egon.

Suddenly, he felt a heavy pressure on the back of his head.

Egon’s hand.

Egon shoved ever so lightly, forcing Alex to go lower. He had to breathe through his nose now, which was new. His eyes watered up again, threatening to spill.

He liked this Egon though. This new, dominant, side. He liked the pressure of his hand, he liked being told what to do.

Egon's breathing was hot and heavy as he pushed Alex lower to him, his breath rushing out of his mouth with a guttural hiss as he pushed him lower and lower and lower. He needed what Alex was giving him now more than anything he had felt before. He wanted it, needed it, his entire body was trembling in a mixture of anticipation and pleasure, he was close, and he was close very very quickly.

Alex could feel Egon tensing up. He didn’t want this to end so soon but he didn’t know whether or not Egon wanted to go…that far with him.

Egon’s hand released up on his head slightly. Gently, the same hand came to brush sweaty hair behind Alex’s ear.

Egon was hot in Alex’s mouth. Like melting velvet. Alex could stay here forever, warm and fuzzy, doing whatever Egon says. Whatever makes him make the sounds he’s making now.

"Stop..." Egon breathed, his voice was thick and heavy as it was hard for him to get the words out. He was too close now, he needed to keep control of himself for just a little longer, to hold back a bit before he blew this early.

"Look at me." Egon hissed through his teeth as he grabbed Alex's hair and pulled him back up to his face like a demanding master grabbing his pet's leash.

Alex almost choked, pulling quickly off of Egon. His hands were strong, and huge compared to Alex’s face. It was a pretty picture for Egon. A flushed and hazed Alex, back arched, shirt ruffled and pushed up, midriff showing.

“Egon-“ Alex’s voice was hoarse. There was still spit connecting him to Egon.

Alex’s hands drifted to Egon’s thighs. He felt bad, he’d have to wash these slacks for Egon later. He was pretty sure he was going to have to wash this entire bed later.

"Put your hair back" Egon demanded, using all his strength to keep himself from grabbing Alex and pulling him back down for more.

He couldn't see anything else right now other than Alex. He wanted him. He needed him to be his.

Alex’s hair was short so he simply tucked it behind his ear. He blinked up at Egon and got the cue as Egon began tearing at the buttons of Alex’s shirt.

“Ah!-“ Alex tried to protest his shirt being destroyed but Egon simply kissed him and pushed him further up the bed towards his pillows.

“I’ll buy you a new one-“ Egon mended as he pulled the scrap off of Alex’s back and began working to undo his pants, still almost fully dressed himself.

Egon was now barely thinking, he'd let his desire take absolute control of him. He was practically ripping off Alex's pants out of the pure desire to be able to see more of his body. It was almost animalistic the way he was moving now, he couldn't even see straight. All he knew was that it was time to take Alex as his own, to possess him completely.

“Please-“ Alex coughed as he broke away from Egon to paw weakly at his pants, slug around his hips.

Egon kissed him animalistically.

”Baby,” Alex whined. The blood rushed straight to Egon’s lower half.

"Please what?" Egon said, his hands moving to pin down Alex's hands, taking charge of the situation now. He knew a guy like this didn't want to be in charge. The way Alex had been acting so shyly earlier, the way he'd begged Egon to take control made it clear he was just too…overwhelmed to have any kind of power in this situation. Egon let his mouth roam over his neck, gently scratching and biting wherever he thought would get a reaction out of him.

Alex’s breath was coming in shallow puffs now. His eyes rolled back in his head as Egon continued to make dark marks around his neck. He wouldn’t be able to cover them, they’d know. They’d know he was Egon’s.

“Please- doctor!” Alex begged. Egon’s hand roamed up Alex’s lower half, now completely open to him.

Egon stopped, his hands drifting down to his hips again to grip them. He liked how Alex's eyes rolled back into his head as he called him doctor. It made his heart beat to think that Alex would want him to be his doctor, even if it was just for this moment, because that was exactly the title he wanted right now. He wanted to do experiments on him, to see the inside of him, to break him down into all of his pieces, then putting him together again like a puzzle to make him exactly what he needed.

“Take me…” Alex swallowed, mouth dry, “Take me apart…” He finally managed to pull his lovers pants completely off and his shirt as well, leaving him in the same state as Alex.

He was glad the fire house was warm. Hot, even.

Maybe that was just them two.

Egon's entire body shivered at that one sentence. It was as though he could feel the heat radiate off of his own body, his heart beating so quickly that it almost hurt him.

This boy, Alex, he was exactly what Egon needed. Maybe not just for a few nights, but for forever.

"Then I will take you apart..." Egon said, it was almost a threat. No one else was getting him, he was his.

“Please,” Alex kissed Egon as he felt him move. This position was similar to the table, except now Egon towered even more-so over him.

They hadn’t grabbed any sort of…help…for this. It was just them. Bare. Alex hoped Egon was fine with that. He was on the pill after all.

“I want you-“ Egon kissed Alex to shut him up and moved. He felt hot. Much hotter than anything or anybody Alex had been with before. And his body was, larger. He covered Alex’s whole chest, and he could feel one of Egon’s hands tracing one of his top surgery scars.

Egon shivered again, his body shaking with both the desire he was feeling and the thought that there was nothing to stop them from going all the way, no condoms or contraception, nothing at all. He wanted to take Alex and to make him his, on every level.

Alex's scars were just a bonus to him, something he liked to see on another's body as it told more about who they were. He would always appreciate the scars Alex got, because it made him know Alex even more.

“I don’t need…prep,” Alex breathed. He flushed with the admission but it was true. He watched as the realization suck into Egon’s face and he grinned, devilish.

“Yeah?” Egon asked, petting Alex’s side sweetly. It amazed him how even in such heated moments like this Egon could be so sweet and shy.

“Was thinking of you while I…” Alex admitted in a breathy, sort of out of control voice before he could even think about what he was saying.

"You were?" Egon whispered back, his voice full of shock, it seemed almost impossible that Alex would think of him at all when he was alone.

"Just me?"

Egon's hands began to make their way over Alex's body again, stroking down his sides as he watched for his reaction.

“Only you.” Alex moaned as Egon’s hand teased him.

“Wanted to be Yours” Alex purred. He kissed the bridge of Egon’s nose, something he knew the other man was sensitive about, but to Alex, he loved it, it was strong and regal just like the man it was attached to.

"Oh..." Egon breathed as he heard Alex moaning and kissing his nose, he could feel his heart skipping a beat at that admission. No one had ever said anything like that to him before, he didn't expect anyone to ever tell him that they wanted him, let alone only him. His entire body was trembling now as he felt a rush of emotions all at once.

He lowered his face back to Alex's and kissed him deeply, unable to help himself at all.

“Please, please need you now, needed you yesterday,” Alex began to whine, clawing at Egon’s back freely now. He was sure he would leave faint red marks in his wake. He wanted to mark Egon as much as Egon wanted to mark him.

He drew his legs around Egon’s back and pulled him closer into his hips, barely pulling him in.

Alex grit his teeth. He was so hot. He felt like he had a fever.

Egon groaned at that as his grip on Alex tightened, his breath coming out sharp and heavy as he pressed himself into him with everything he had. His heart was racing and he could feel his vision blurring at the heat now, he was so worked up that it was becoming difficult to keep steady because everything that Alex was doing was sending him straight to the breaking point.

Alex’s whines and moans took a sharp turn into a higher register as Egon pushed home. It felt insane. He felt like he was full to his throat. He wanted to spend and entire eon here in Egon’s arms.

Egon’s moans took a lower register however, as he braced one arm bracketing Alex’s head, hair flung widely out onto the pillow behind him. Alex’s arm flew up to claw at Egon’s nape.

It reminded him of how this started, Egon’s finger slowly drawing up and down his head.

Alex felt drunk. Egon felt powerful.

Egon could feel Alex's back arching as he pushed deeper and deeper, each movement making Egon feel more and more dominant, more and more in control of Alex. He could hear the other man growling and moaning with each thrust as it drove him close to his limit, but Egon couldn't stop himself, he wanted even more.

”Egon- Doctor- I’m so close” Alex breathed. His eyes were brimmed with tears as Egon pushed against a spot inside him that made him see stars. His hand gripped into Egon’s back further, and he was sure his nails were breaking skin as he dug into him and pulled him closer, kissing him harder, teeth biting lips and clacking into each other.

Egon's lips were still locked to his, his mouth moving even as his body shivered at the pressure from Alex's hand. He was on the verge of losing it completely, he needed this release more than anything right now because he had come so far. He'd be lying if he said his actions weren't a bit selfish, but no matter what his intentions were, his mind wasn't thinking like that right now, all he could think about was taking more and more.

“Egon.” Alex’s voice tumbled into a softer tone without even meaning to. “I thi-uh-” he made stupid little punched out noises with every movement. Egon gripped his hand that was on his back and pinned it to the pillows behind his head with his own. He felt just as hot as Alex, if not more so.

“I think- think I’m in-“ Alex gasped and made a long pathetic cry as Egon slowly moved and held his position against him. “ITHINKIMINLOVEWITHYOU-” Alex jumbled out in a moment of happiness and haze induced fog as Egon, the man of his dreams, the guy he’s wanted for so so long, holds him and kisses him and presses into him.

Egon shivered at that admission, his chest feeling as though it were being crushed from the sudden rush of emotions that came from Alex's words. He couldn't even think right now, he wasn't thinking of anything other than this moment, this man he had wanted for so long was in his arms telling him that he loved him. Egon squeezed the boy tighter as he finally released him from the pressure and finally allowed himself to just rest his weight on top of Alex, holding him close.

Alex felt Egon tense, and one of his large hands came to grip Alex’s lower half. He pulled, and a few strokes later Alex’s back bowed and his eyes rolled and he made an absolutely pathetic whimper as he folded.

He was Egon’s.

Egon shivered again, his jaw was clenched tight as he tried to get everything under control and stop his entire world from shaking. Now that he had Alex here, he wasn't going to let him go. He was only his, he was finally his and Egon had never felt this good before as he felt a rush of pride flow through him. He would have to wait to ask if it was just a heat-of-the-situation statement or if it was the real thing, but right now it didn't matter. All he could think of was that he had him.

Egon felt heavy on top of Alex as he laid there after the fact. Alex didn’t have the strength to move him. He really didn’t think he wanted to move him. He felt… warm and full and he really had never been happier. He had the man he loved in bed with him…shit, he had just made love to the man he loved. Alex felt like he may explode despite being so wrung out.

He could still feel Egon’s hands rubbing softly at his hips, even despite him being exhausted. Alex felt a different part of him warm, his heart. Even despite everything Egon was still thinking of him first.

Egon didn't try to move either, he felt so incredibly content just laying on top of Alex, his body pressed firmly against him. Egon's fingers were still tracing over his hips, he couldn't get enough of the boy beneath him. He'd never felt like this before, Alex had a hold on him he didn't think he would ever have over anyone, in this moment he had finally been taken by someone, he had finally been possessed and he wanted nothing more than to just fall asleep with Alex in his arms.

”Egon.” Alex whispered a few minutes after their breathing had calmed down. Egon had shifted slightly to get off of Alex’s chest.

“I love you.” Alex breathed as Egon played with his hair.

He felt Egon smile against his shoulder.

"I love you too."

Egon's reply was simple, but he meant it with all his heart as he shifted off of him, laying beside him now. He was so comfortable and so content with him, he wanted to hold him this way for the rest of his life and he honestly didn't want to be anywhere else right now. His arm snaked around and wrapped tightly around him as he brought him closer to himself, holding him close while his finger played with the hair at the back of his head.

Alex nuzzled into Egon’s neck. He shivered as the last of Egon pulled out.

“Do ya’ think we could sleep here?” Alex asked, already sleepy. Egon had tired him out, and he was still partially in that fuzzy state in between conscious and pliable.

Egon’s hand wrapped further around him. He was warm and still slightly tacky with sweat.

Egon shivered as he felt Alex nuzzle into him again, he couldn't help but give a soft chuckle when he heard his request to sleep together, he was already getting used to being Alex's pillow.

"Yes, I do."

He was tired too and he let himself drift off with his body pressed against Alex's, his arm keeping him close even when his eyes were starting to shut and his heart was trying to slow back down.

Alex fell asleep peacefully and quickly that night. It was nice. He felt completely comfortable for once. He had half the mind to pull his boxers and Egon’s shirt on before completely drifting off and forcing Egon to at least pull his boxers on as well.

-

He was glad he did, because somehow both of them forgot to set any sort of clock beside any bedside table, and by the time Venkman got to the firehouse the next day, they had just enough time to hear the door on the first floor open to be able to wake up and rush to get things ready.

Egon sat up slowly when he heard the firehouse door slam open from the lower floor. He looked around, seeing Alex pull on his boxers next to him.

He had to be dreaming still because Alex had spent the entire night with him. Egon was already slipping on pants by then and Alex was up as well.

They both looked half dressed but it was enough to not raise suspicions that they had been with each other. For all Peter knew, Egon had simply spent the night in the lab and Alex had had a particularly good date. They shuffled blearily into the kitchenette, and belatedly, Alex realized all of Egon’s work was still across the table. He hoped it could survive a night of no refrigeration, he would’ve hated to have ruined all of his hard work. He didn’t look worried, so Alex was not panicked just yet.

Instead, Egon headed to the kitchen and started pulling down some pancake mix and a bowl from a higher shelf than Alex couldn’t usually get to without going on his tip-toes, and grabbing a pan from under the sink.

Alex sat at the same chair he had been accosted in last night and watched intensely. Egon looked so domestic. He had to borrow extra sweats and an old college hoodie in his locker here since his clothes were ruined last night. He was lucky enough to have another work outfit in his locker. So he didn’t have the luxury of pretending like the two of them had truly spent a night together like a real couple.

Even though they did.

Finally.

Instead, he was already internally preparing to make up some story about someone else if Peter asked about his neck. Thankfully, Alex was smart enough to keep any marks he left on Egon where only he could see them.

Egon was focused on his cooking, he'd made pancakes here a few times before but he was determined to make this a good breakfast for Alex, now that they were actually official.

He was too focused on that to notice just how much Alex was staring at him, watching him like a predator would prey.

It was a nice feeling to know he had this kind of attention. He finally looked over at him though and smirked at the sight before going back to cooking.

Alex knew he had to tear his attention away before Venkman came up here and caught on to something. He was half worried that the place still reeked of sex.

He had quickly thrown the sheets of his and every other bed into the washer with the help of Egon, along with their clothes.

In all terms, nothing was left of evidence.

But Alex kinda wanted there to be.

He really, really liked Egon.

Watching him cook pancakes, for him and Alex, providing like this without being asked, warmed his heart a little bit and he had to catch himself before his brain took off with the thought and started imagining 10 years in the future, to mornings just like this, except maybe with a few little feet running around.

Egon was actually feeling warm at the looks Alex was giving him, it made him feel good that Alex was looking at him like this, that he could make this guy so happy. Egon didn't think of the future, he was just focused on this moment, on making these pancakes. Once he had the batter properly mixed he set the bowl down and pulled out the frying pan, beginning to heat it with grease.

Alex didn’t think anything could ruin his mood today.

That was, almost.

-

After Egon had finished his pancakes, they had both eaten just as Peter finally came upstairs to see them. Apparently he had stopped to check on the car before coming up, so they had more time than they thought.

They conversed casually, and sure enough, as Alex bit into another bite of his pancakes, he watched Peter eye his neck suspiciously.

“WHO gave you those things newsboy?” He asked, smirking.

Alex felt Egon’s leg tense against his, but he didn’t stop eating or show any other sign of being startled, so that was good.

“Just some girl from the bar…” Alex mumbled.

He didn’t know if Egon wanted to be open about it. He wished he had gotten to talk about it with him before everyone had shown up for work the next day. They had a scheduled go over of what they were going to do with the vault and its size soon.

But it was interrupted.

As soon as everyone had crowded around the breakfast nook upstairs, the alarms rang and Janine was yelling from downstairs about some high level poltergeist at the manhattan library. Suddenly, just as fast as they arrived, the boys had taken off in the van, all suited up.

Egon spared him a fleeting glance, and it was packed with a lot, before he had shuffled in and they had flipped the sirens on and pulled off.

Well.

He may as well get some work done for the rest of the day while they were gone.

-

Egon had caught an expression out of the corner of his eye from Peter and Alex's exchange that he didn't like, his jaw was clenching as they were interrupted, but there was no chance to dwell on it right now. He was more worried about Alex, hoping he wouldn't get into any kind of trouble from the lie he'd told. As Egon was going into the van he gave Alex a glimpse of a look that said 'I'll talk to you about it later' before being shut into the van with the rest of the team.

-

Alex had busied himself until the van had pulled up again late in the day.

It was a bad bust. At least a rough one.

There was a loud noise of the garage opening and the van pulled in with the boys in tow. They hoped out one by one.

Peter looked tired, already smoking. Ray was talking frantically to Winston who didn’t seem to be paying that much attention, talking about dinner. And finally, Egon folded himself out of the tight door and seemed to be almost…smoking.

Not, like. Attractive-ness wise.

Like, legitimately smoking.

As in on fire.

Alex rushed over to see what was wrong, but as he approached Egon simply held up the smoking ecto-trap, still steaming from a big catch. He smiled tiredly and looked down at Alex.

Egon looked exhausted and in need of a good shower at the moment, sweat and ash covered him and Alex couldn't find a clean spot on him if he tried. He was panting heavily the moment he made it out of the van since the last ghost they had encountered had been one hell of a fight. His eyes immediately locked with Alex's when he started running over towards him and his face lit up with that tired, sweet smile. He was grateful that the one person he actually wanted to see right now was there to see him.

Alex looked towards the rest of the boys. “Okay boys, beds are freshly made. Go shower and while you do that I’ll order your favorite Chinese takeout!” Alex declared and he could practically feel Egon melt under his touch on his back with his words.

With that, everyone scuddled off to busy themselves.

Egon's shoulders sagged the moment he heard that, his expression suddenly becoming much more relaxed and calm. As soon as the rest of the guys left the room he had wrapped his arms tightly around him again, burying his face down into the crook of his neck.

"I don't feel like you give yourself enough credit Alex, I'm always fed well here."

His words were tired and scratchy, but he was still smiling as he squeezed him tight.

Alex nuzzled back, only slightly bothered by the singed smell of his uniform. That would have to be fixed later.

“Go shower, big guy.” Alex shoved Egon gently off him and towards the showers with the rest of the guys. He wanted him to be clean and feeling good before he gave him a warm meal.

Egon reluctantly let himself be pushed away but he still made good use of the rest room as he stripped off his sweaty clothes and headed into the shower. It wasn't easy to wash the thick layer of sweat and ash from his skin this far in but he was able to at least get it to the point where he didn't smell like he'd been standing next to someone on fire. He got out of the shower after about 20 minutes and put on a clean set of clothes he had kept up here.

As he searched for clothes, he realized a sweater from earlier was missing. He’d have to ask Alex if he’d seen where it had gone, maybe in with the clothes that they ruined last night.

Egon smiled smugly at the thought.

And here everyone thought he had no game.

He shook his head.

It was more than that.

He really, really liked Alex. He felt connected to him, on a deeper level than he did with anybody else on the team. He wanted to come home to him after a long day of kicking ass and saving the world, knowing he was safe and happy.

Egon smiled at the thought happily as he appeared back in the kitchenette, empty save for you even though everyone else had gone off to shower before him.

Egon was content with this moment right now, he was home and he didn't have to worry about his team for a little while longer. And even if Alex was still going through his stuff, and stealing it to wear home, he didn't have any concerns.

"I'm back, how have you been holding up here?" He asked, walking into the kitchenette with a small, gentle smile as he leaned up against the counter. Egon just wanted to keep talking with Alex for a little while longer before they had to actually get busy with work things.

Alex opened one of 3 bags of Chinese food he had ordered while the rest of them were showering.

“I’m okay. That bust looked rough. Wanna’ talk about it?”

Alex asked, bumping his hip playfully against Egon’s in an attempt to keep the mood light even though he knew sometimes talking about scary or close-call busts made Egon get antsy.

Egon's face was still a little bit strained after the bust but he couldn't help but smile when he noticed Alex was trying to keep the mood light, Egon liked that part of him. He couldn't help but chuckle as Alex bumped his hip against him, he knew Alex was trying to help. When the topic of the bust came up, Egon tried to dismiss it.

"Oh it was nothing, the ghost was just a bit stronger than expected but it turned out fine. Don't worry about it."

Alex could tell he was dodging him, but he wasn’t going to push. Egon would come to him when he was ready.

Or, he maybe he could take out his stress with busts a different way now.

Either way, Alex didn’t mind for now.

Presently, he focused on getting the food out of the bags and cleaning Egon’s makeshift science lab off the and onto the counter.

Alex was glad. It looked like they had all survived the night and were doing fine. Egon didn’t seem fussed with him moving them either. Just watched, enraptured, leaning over the rest of the kitchen with arms folded as Alex moved methodically.

Egon's eyes kept on moving from his food to Alex and back again, that sweet smile never leaving his face as he admired the way he went about his work. Egon's stomach was rumbling now that that sweet smell was filling the kitchenette, the smell of the fresh food just making his stomach growl. His hand reached out to try and grab a piece of the food but each time he reached his hand out he stopped himself, not wanting to eat until Alex had a chance to eat something too.

Alex playfully batted at his hand. “Let me grab the others, they went to grab beers from the basement freezer.”

Alex swung himself quickly around the fire pole a few yards away and Egon watched him quickly drop out of view rolling his eyes.

Always dramatic.

Alex was the one that used that silly pole the most despite only being a desk jockey and a PR Princess for the team.

Egon chuckled a little bit as he watched Alex take the fire pole, as much as he thought it was a bit much he was more impressed that Alex could actually pull it off. Egon got too lost in his own thoughts to notice that Alex had left until he was back in just a minute or two with the other guys in tow.

Alex bounded up the stairs and gleefully placed a cold 6 pack down in the center. Janine was even in tow behind the rest of the guys.

Egon smiled gently. It was perfect. All his favorite people.

Alex brushed up against him, smiling with a specific warmth meant only for him.

He clapped his hands together happily. “Okay guys!” He addressed everyone and gestured to the wide spread of Chinese food in the center of the table, with the beer as the centerpiece. “Dig in!”

Egon felt like something had suddenly and unexpectedly popped into place in his life. Like something was just ever so slightly out of alignment, and in this particular moment it all became very, blindingly clear.

It was all perfect.

‧˚₊꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒦꒷‧₊˚⊹

Final notes: woah!! Okay so that was a long story sorry everyone I have brainrot. Not responsible for my own actions but honestly we need more good ftm shit on this website so I took it upon myself. Hope everyone enjoyed but look out for more stuff soon because I finally feel like actually writing yayyyy :333

[oliversrarebooks]

The Rare Bookseller Part 11: Emily's Despair

Masterlist

September, 1925

TW: Mind control, captivity

"Wake up, Oliver."

He opened his eyes. He was sitting in the plush leather chair, totally relaxed and calm, feeling so refreshed from his nap.

"We're finished now," said Miss Lily, looking pleased with herself. "You've done very well."

Oliver blinked, trying to get the sleep out of his eyes. "Thank you, sir," he said, his voice so soft. He couldn't quite remember what had happened, just that he'd fallen asleep. But he seemed unharmed, and he felt wonderful, so it couldn't have been anything bad.

"I mean it. You were a joy to work with," she said, and Oliver felt a blissful surge of pride. "I'll take you back to your cell now. It's almost dinner."

"Yes, sir," he said, standing up and stretching, rubbing at his sore wrists. It seemed a shame to go back to his cell, given how comfortable he was here, but no doubt Miss Lily was very busy, and he didn't want to trouble her. 

He fell easily into step behind her, looking curiously at each door they passed in the hallways. Muffled sounds of pain emanated from behind a door and he felt glad that his conditioning had been so pleasant compared to whatever was going on in there. There was little outer indication of what the rooms were for, just brass number plates that meant nothing to him.

Too soon, they were back at the row of prison cells. He spotted Emily getting up from where she was curled on her cot. "Oliver! Are you okay?"

"I'm fine, completely fine," he said, hoping to reassure her. She looked so intensely distressed, and he couldn't quite remember why. His head was still a little fuzzy, but dinner and sleep would hopefully clear that up.

"If you say so," she said. She was eyeing Miss Lily suspiciously.

Miss Lily beckoned him inside his cell, locking the door behind him. "There you go. Get a good night's rest. I'll see you later, Oliver."

"Goodbye, sir, and thank you," he said, waving after her.

As soon as she retreated down the hall, Emily frantically called for him. "Oliver, hey, what did they do? What happened?"

"Nothing, really," he said. "I'm pretty sure I slept through most of it."

"You were asleep? You've been gone for hours. Did they drug you?"

"Oh, no, nothing like that. Miss Lily put me to sleep."

"Miss...?"

"It wasn't bad at all," he said, hearing her distress. "I know we both thought she was going to do something horrible to me, but it wasn't like that. It was amazing. I don't think I've ever slept so well."

"What exactly did they do to you?" she said, warily.

Oliver felt like he couldn't quite remember, and couldn't quite articulate the parts he could remember. "Miss Lily made me very quiet and sleepy," he said, remembering to keep his voice soft. "And she helped me be so much more obedient."

"So she hypnotized you."

"Yes, I suppose so, but it wasn't like she made me do anything that I didn't want to do." said Oliver. "I've always been a quiet and docile sort of person. So it's no trouble at all if the vampires want me obedient and relaxed."

Emily rattled the door of her cell. "Can't you tell that she's got you under some kind of spell? That's not normal, Oliver. What happened to not letting them have your mind? What happened to escaping?"

Her words were like cold water down her spine, dissipating his serenity. "Well..."

"They kidnapped us. They're going to sell us off like cattle. There's no way you actually want to be a slave for vampires the rest of your life. The only reason you think that is because they're controlling your mind. You need to snap out of it."

"I... I suppose that's all true..." he said, struggling through his haze. He knew, in a distant intellectual sense, that just a few hours ago he had been fighting against the vampires. He could remember his fear, he could remember his fight, he could remember his reasons why. But it all seemed so far away. Inconsequential. Maybe a little pointless.

"I need you to snap out of it," said Emily, sounding slightly hysterical. "You can't let them have your mind. What if there's a chance to escape --"

"There's not going to be a chance to escape," he said, looking down at his hands. "They're much stronger than us, they've got us locked up, they have every advantage. If there's no chance to escape, then what difference does it make?"

"So that's it, then? They hypnotize you into giving up on everything? What about your bookshop? Wasn't that your life's work? Don't you want to see it again?"

"I do, but..."

"All that talk of things being hopeless -- that's just the spell they put you under. Don't let them."

"But it's true! And I can't pretend it isn't," he snapped, his calm shattering. "We're not getting out of here. And... I guess that hurts. The thought that I might never see my bookshop again hurts. And the hypnosis or magic spell or whatever you want to say it was -- it feels good. Better than sitting and wondering if I'll ever see my bookshop again. That's how she puts you under so easily. I know I was supposed to resist it. I know it's better to snap out of it. But maybe part of me doesn't even want to. Or I suppose I'm just weak, weaker than I thought --"

"...Sorry," said Emily. 

"Don't be. I needed that. Because you're right. I do want to escape. I don't want to be sold to vampires." His mind felt clearer now. "What she just did to me..."

"Oh, thank god you're sounding more reasonable now," she said. "That's terrifying. You were gone a few hours and when you came back, it was like your whole will to live was gone, and you were calm as calm can be about it."

The reality was sinking in, how that must have seemed to Emily. "She's very powerful. I thought she was going to torture me, but instead she had me actually wanting to be a vampire's slave -- or at least being completely okay with it. If she does that to me again..."

"Do you think you could resist?"

"Perhaps." Oliver was nowhere near optimistic. Even now that Emily had snapped him out, he still could feel the nagging desire to sink back under the spell. It really was so much nicer than reality, and it was pulling at him still. If Miss Lily -- no, Lily, one of his vampiric kidnappers -- hypnotized him again, he didn't trust himself to not fall right back into it again. If he didn't simply fall back into it himself.

"I want to know how to fight it. You have to tell me everything about what happened to you."

"I can try. I really don't remember much," he said, settling down on the cot. "Her assistants strapped me to a chair. She was trying to get me to focus on her eyes, but the real danger was her voice, since there's no real way to block it out. She made me feel sleepy... and quiet... and..." He yawned. "Obedient... so obedient... and it makes me feel good to obey..."

"Oliver! Wake up!"

"Huh?" he said, opening his eyes, startled. "What -- what was I talking about?"

"It's like you were hypnotizing yourself. I'm sorry I asked you to think about it. She did a total number on your head, huh?"

"Apparently so," he said. He still felt dazed.

"Better now?"

He knew that he wasn't. He knew that the conditioning ran frighteningly deep after only one session. He knew he was fighting off the intrusive thoughts that it would be so much easier for him if he just gave up and became a good little vampire thrall.

"I'm not sure," he said. "That really gets under your skin."

"If they do something like this to me... will you help me snap out of it?"

"...I'm not sure I'll be able to, but if I can, I will."

"....You won't," said Emily, bitter. "I already know you won't, because you're already theirs. And they're going to make me just like you, babbling on about obedience and god knows what, doing a little curtsy and offering up my neck..."

"Emily --"

"If you're going to tell me it's not your fault, I know. I don't want to hear it. Just leave me alone, Oliver."

Part Ten >> Masterlist >> Part Twelve

Thank you for reading this story of a newly hypnotized man.

Tag list - please note if you'd like to be added

@d-cs @latenightcupsofcoffee @thecyrulik @dismemberment-on-a-tuesday-night @wanderinggoblin

[rottngdeer]

Bloodsuckers — 1

Pairings || Hannibal Lecter x Vampire!female!reader x Will Graham

Part 1/?

Contents/Warnings || Cannibalism, blood, decapitation, light gore

Part 2 is here

Hannibal had found out your little secret before you found out his. You only took late-night calls, never went out during the day, and you rarely ever ate, even at his dinner parties. These little things made a little more sense the moment he saw you rip into the flesh of a man in the woods and suck all his blood out from his neck. Funny that you were both out tonight on a similar base. He stayed still and hidden, not wanting you to know he was there. You thought that you could smell him nearby, but you also knew that you were close to a murder sight you had been with him to last night. You composed yourself and left the scene, leaving the body behind.

Hannibal had used that body in his latest creation, which Jack called both you and Hannibal about the next night. Since it was 8 pm and past sunset, you headed down there. You were surprised to see the man you had drank from as part of the grotesque scene, and even more surprised to see that his head was gone. He was completely decapitated, but his head and hands were gone. Hannibal and Jack walked over to you and Jack immediately started to ramble about the body and how the Ripper was back at it again. You glanced at Hannibal, who was looking at you. The look in his eyes was different than usual, and you couldn’t pinpoint the emotion. Understanding? Curiosity? What was it?

“I’d like to invite you over for a nightcap, “Hannibal stated once you were beginning to leave about an hour after you had gotten there.

“You should get your sleep, Hannibal.“

“I insist. Don’t have me ask you twice.“

You were slightly confused, expecting him to have dropped it or made some sort of remark about your sleeping schedule. You hesitated but sighed, “Alright. I’ll follow you.“

You followed his car in yours, arriving at his house. He had you take off your coat and shoes, offering you wine and a seat. Once the two of you were settled with glasses of wine and a soft instrumental tune playing in the background, Hannibal began to speak.

“So, how old are you, Y/N?“

“32. You knew that.”

“32… so, 132? 232?“

You chuckled nervously, “What?“

“Sorry, is it older? 432 perhaps?“

You stared at him, hoping he didn’t actually know, and he was just messing with you.

“I suppose it’s rude of me to ask your age so bluntly. I apologise.“

“Where— where did you get those numbers from?“

“Well, considering that you’re a vampire, I assume that you go based off of the tens in your age as it would be the easiest.”

“A… vampire? “

“Yes. You must have known I was there last night, right? Sensed it?”

You began to stand up, but he put his hand on your knee and kept you sitting, “I won't say a word to anyone else.“

“I don’t know that for sure.”

“I’ll tell you something of mine then. A secret.“

“Nothing you tell me could possibly-“

“I’m the Chesapeake Ripper,“ He stated. “All of the missing organs, I cook for my parties and myself. I noticed that you always looked at my food like you were confused, but never ate any. I suppose your sense of smell was messed up by the number of people at the parties and all of the meat I serve. “

You laugh, “You’re lying.”

Hannibal sighed and stood up. He set his wine glass down on the table and took yours from you, also setting it down, “Follow me, my dear.“

Hannibal led you to his kitchen. He opened the freezer, pulling out a frozen chunk of meat. The neck. The neck of the man you killed last night and that was displayed in the Ripper's design. You could smell it; you could see your teeth marks.

A long silence occurred between the two of you. You were processing everything. Figuring out what to do next. Hannibal being the Chesapeake Ripper would be a lot more believable to the FBI and everyone else than you being a vampire.

“Tell me why I shouldn’t turn you in right now, “You said in a low voice.

A slight smirk appeared on Hannibal’s face, “Your saliva is all over this. Tell me why I shouldn’t hand it over to Jack, tell him I found out in your home. Frame you for the crime, which Jack would use to connect you to more Ripper crimes if he can find a loophole. And he would.”

Another silence.

“You and I would work perfectly together, don’t you think?“ He added, tilting his head slightly. You were silent, calculating if you should kill Hannibal right now.

“I know what you’re thinking. I think that you know an alliance could benefit you. And that if anything happened to me, Jack would do everything to figure out what,” He gently took your hand after putting the meat back. He led you back to where the two of you had been sitting previously, and sat down closer to you this time, almost thigh to thigh. “You’re a smart woman. I suggest you make the right decision. The only option, really.”

You knew that you would outlive him, obviously. Or you could move, leave the FBI. But you wouldn’t know how Hannibal would react to you up an leaving, taking his secret with him.

“I really don’t like you right now,” You mumbled.

“I think you’ll get over that. We’ll work well together. Too well for you to resent me for long.”

Silence for a minute before you finally spoke, “I’m actually 332. You guessed wrong.”

“My apologies. May I ask how you’ve been feeding yourself all these years? It will be helpful for me to know how you pick people out.”

He listened to you intently as you answered his question. He wanted to learn everything about you, about your life, about vampires, about your eating habits, your living conditions. And he would keep you around in any way that he could.

[lowlights]

when it finally catches up with you

when it finally catches up with you

jack daniels / agent whiskey x f!reader // 1.4k words

warnings: soft but angsty. reader has depression and mentions taking prescription meds and going to therapy briefly. tears, sadness. but- hope. I've been feeling low and this is a comfort that I needed to write out. if you're feeling sad, you're not alone. let people help you. <3

**

Jack spotted it the second you walked in. Why did you think you could hide it?

You had been sad for some time now and doing everything you could think of to get through it. But meds take time to work and you were just getting started with a new therapist. This morning had been particularly rough. You had tried, in vain, to mask your splotchy cheeks with the powder from the compact that lived at the bottom of your purse. You wore your sunglasses inside, hoping someone would just think you were hungover. Not a totally uncommon phenomenon at the distillery, after all.

But Jack…always saw right through everyone. Including you, from the first moment you entered the Statesman office.

You hurried through the expansive lobby and pushed open the big doors with the words “Employees Only” emblazoned in gold letters. Jack was deep in conversation with another agent as you ducked your head down and made a beeline for your office. You thought, foolishly, that if you could just close your door behind you everything would be alright. You could break down in your office and no one would be the wiser.

“Hey darlin’, slow down! I’ve got some great news.” Jack’s southern drawl carried down the hallway, followed shortly by the sound of jogging boots. You kept walking, determined to make it the last few steps to your office, to safety. You were so close that if you reached out you could almost grasp the brass door handle.

Jack slid in front of you, blocking your path. On any other day, it would be a welcome intrusion to have the cowboy push into your personal space with his big smile and tight jeans. Today, though, he was too close. He would be able to sense - know - that something was very wrong.

“You didn’t stop to get your coffee, I’ve been waitin’ for you by the breakroom all morning,” he pouted, leaning on one arm against your doorframe. His face immediately dropped, brows gathered in concern. “What’s wrong?” he asked in a low voice, not a hint of his usual humor or cocksure attitude. “Did someone hurt you?”

You shook your head quickly, hoping the other agents passing by wouldn’t give you a second look. They rarely did, only coming to you when they needed tech help and even then barely sparing a word or two in your direction. Jack was the exception.

“Alright, let’s just duck in here and sort this out,” he said reassuringly as he ushered you into your own little office. His hand felt warm and solid on your back, and his kindness made you want to break down fully. He closed the door behind him and spun around to look at you, shoulders tense. His gaze was steadfast and piercing, giving you every bit of his attention. He was very clearly worried and it sent a wave of guilt over you.

Jack put his hand on your shoulder and squeezed gently. “What’s goin’ on, sugar?” His pet names never felt condescending and in fact, you found comfort in them. A tiny moment of sweetness in a tough world. “Can you take those off? I’d like to set my eyes on ya,” he asked gently, nodding at your sunglasses.

You reluctantly pulled off your shades and met his gaze. The words that were trapped in your throat gathered in a huge, burning lump. How could you possibly begin to explain? You could barely make any sense of it.

“What’s wrong?” Jack asked again as he rubbed his thumb in small circles across your shoulder.

You couldn’t hold it back any longer. “I-I don’t…I don’t know. Everything feels awful and I don’t know why,” you choked out as sobs wracked your body. “What the hell is wrong with me?”

Jack pulled you close to his warm chest as you cried against him. Your mind screamed with embarrassment and shame as your thoughts swirled between how you were getting Jack’s shirt wet with your tears and how you could never show your face at Statesman again.

“Oh, not a thing is wrong with you, sugar. It’s alright. I’ve got you.” Jack murmured reassurances, running his hand up and down your back. His familiar cologne enveloped you and the feeling of his crisp, white shirt against your cheek grounded you. It was softer than you had imagined.

Yes, imagined. Of course, it was your luck that the first time you found yourself in Jack’s arms would be because you were becoming completely undone on a random Thursday. There wasn’t a reason, either. Not one that was easily pointed to and remedied. You made things work for a living, solving problems and innovating, while your own life fell apart around you.

Sadness had followed you for some time now, clawing at your heels. Apparently, it had finally caught up.

The tears were starting to dry after several minutes in Jack’s comforting embrace. You didn’t want to untangle yourself but you had imposed on him for far too long. He was probably dying to make an excuse and a quick getaway, as he had done more than anyone else would already. Surely out of pity, no doubt.

As your breath steadied you could feel Jack murmuring whispered words against the crown of your head. It occurred to you that not only had he not pulled away as soon as humanly possible, but he was hugging you even tighter. You tried to make out what he was saying, but you could only hear every few words.

“Alright…safe… I’m here…sweetest thing…good girl…”

You tilted your head up, ready to apologize, but Jack’s red-rimmed eyes stopped the words from coming. He was upset, but not at you.

“I hate seeing you like this. I’m not gonna leave you feelin’ so low. I swear it. Do you hear me?” Jack kissed your forehead, sending shockwaves down your spine. “You will not stay feeling this way.”

They were the words you had longed to hear but didn’t believe yourself, because sadness lies about such things. Maybe if Jack could say it again a few more times you might start to believe it.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have- I’m just so sorry,” you stuttered. You always felt like you had to apologize for taking up space, and people’s time and efforts.

“Don’t you dare. You don’t have a thing to apologize for, sweetheart.” Jack raised his hand tentatively, caressing your cheek with far more gentleness than you ever could have dreamt. He kissed your nose softly before slotting his lips against yours. It was brief- too brief- and the most comforting thing in the world.

Jack’s called you a lot of things, but he’s never called you sweetheart before. You leaned up and kissed Jack again, firmer this time so that you could feel the tickle of his mustache and relish in just how soft those lips were.

“I’ve wanted to do that for a long time. I didn’t think I would be such a mess when I finally got to kiss you,” you said as you pulled away, wiping your cheeks with the backs of your hands.

Jack smiled and grazed his fingers across his lips. “Good, because I was worried I was taking advantage of you in your time of sorrow.” You chuckled and shook your head, stepping back into his embrace.

He tilted your chin up and stared like he could see you for exactly who you were. You were bare in front of him and you waited for it to feel painful like it always did when you were vulnerable in front of others. The bad feeling never came, because with Jack you were safe. He promised he wouldn’t leave you feeling like this, and you believed him.

You laced your fingers with his, overcome with just how right it felt. “Oh, you said you had good news?” you asked, needing not to talk about yourself for a moment.

Jack grinned and pulled your hand up to kiss your knuckles. “Sure did. Got offered the gig of a lifetime. They want me to head up the New York office.” He took a deep breath. “There’s only one person I would want by my side up there. Are you up for an adventure?”

Maybe things could change for the better. Maybe they already were.

[bluemoondust]

Some revamped characters I had for a long time, now as yanderes. Besides keeping their yandere behavior on the down low from you, there are several other secrets they have. They all have names but for now, I won't state them. There's a lot more of these characters, so maybe I'll make a part two. Plus, if you'd like to know more about these guys, let me know!

Warning(s): Stalking, Invasion of Privacy, Mentions of Violence

Having a wealthy yandere has it perks, but also it's disadvantages as well.

He was extremely charming and knew the right words to say in order to have you keep meeting with him. It didn't help that he acted like any other person. He was so human and easy to talk with. Your evenings became instantly better whenever you saw him. You knew he was a busy man, with whatever job he had, so these talks weren't frequent.

When he offered to give you money now and then in exchange for some of your time, it baffled you. Of all people, why you? He was nice about it, gave you time to think over the proposition. It was basically him asking you to be his sugar baby in a sense, but he had some boundaries.

In reality, this man just wanted to keep extremely close to you. Over the course of time, he's grown fond of you. Too fond. He is well aware that even with having everything he could ever achieve, it doesn't matter. He so desperately wants, no, needs a light in his life. It just so happens you were it. Call him a fool for having some semblance of hope in this world, but he can say for sure that he felt that the two of you belong together. 

He'll just be careful not to share... The undesirable parts of his life. It shouldn't matter, anyways. The time is now, and the past has gone.

The control a librarian yandere has can very, but this individual is diligent in his work. Even if it's already his job, he works to keep track of everyone who enters and exists the building. No matter if they have business here or not. He counts the how many people in a group show up and notices if there are regulars.

You are among the regulars. Visiting to do some work for your college, he keeps note of what subjects/genres of books you pick off should you choose to do so. You rarely hear him speak unless it is to direct you to a book or give information about a rental. It's a rich sound, slightly gravelly.

When you asked for assistance for an essay, that's where it all began. He was patient, despite how tired he may look, and explained to you in a manner you could understand. Every question you had was answered with an open mind as he gave you further references. Apparently he used to be a professor.

Soon, your regular visits to the library consisted more than just doing work; you went out of your way to speak with him. He may act surprised by the fact but deep down, he knew it would happen. It was going how he wanted. Like in a game of chess, the pieces were falling into place just as he desired.

It was apparent to him that things will get... Difficult as time goes on. He must maintain control or the tides will shift, but he would adapt. The reflection of his face in his coffee stares back at him. He has learned from last time. He has had plenty of time to mull over the flaws, rash decisions, and... Unstableness of his younger years.

Make no mistake, he will not deter from his end goal.

You couldn't help but be drawn by the yandere street performer you'd pass by. Charisma just oozed off of him when he spoke to the audience. It truly made you forget where you were.

It seemed that he was drawn to you as well. Immediately after the performance, he spoke with you. He was funny as he was charming, but this sort of charm was so... Alluring. Almost like you couldn't get enough of him. Maybe he could tell too, from the way it seemed like he could read your mind.

Everything also seemed so... Put together. Well, that's how you can describe it now. Things were just going along perfectly as you spent time with him. When you thought some form of bad luck would happen, it instantly took a turn for the better. You had almost fallen into the street, but he caught your arm, pulling you against him before someone on a bike raced by. Apparently their brakes weren't working so they would have crashed into you two if you didn't move to the side. What was with this atmosphere?

He chuckled, saying maybe it was a sign being given. It made you wonder if he truly believed in things such as fate and luck. The people around did call him Lucky 7 or The Ladybug, but...

It wasn't that this yandere didn't believe in luck, but it was stuck with him. Though he wouldn't complain at all if he gets catches like you. If things went along smoothly like this as they did everyday of his life, then there's no way he can slip up in his pursuit of you.

The yandere call operator grew concerned over your well-being. He didn't mean to intrude, but now knowing that you lived alone gave him a sense of unease. It weighed more than the fear of getting in trouble for even tracking you down in the first place.

He hates feeling helpless. Why do you even live by yourself? You're just asking for trouble. Not that he's shaming you for it! He's just paranoid and when it gets the better of him, he makes poor decisions. It'll probably ease his mind if he just... Takes a look. It'd be easy. He knows how to track these things and he knows the sound of your voice.

The thought of getting attached like this never occurred to him. He wasn't one to make long lasting connections due to how people would leave in the end. Normally he'd let go of them, but after hearing you he just couldn't let that happen. Everything you spoke of replayed in his mind every day. He'd admit that sleep was lost due to this, but he didn't mind.

Finding the area you lived in was the easy part, but searching where exactly you lived was something else. So, to pass the time, he explored around so he can memorize this place. He'd eventually find you; your voice is imprinted in his memory. Then following you home as he memorized the route there would come easy when he finally bumped into you. Speaking in person was more intense on the phone. He hoped you didn't recognize his voice, but he always did give a different tone when he spoke to callers. In person, his voice was softer and not as bold.

He knew he made the right decision when he found out how easy it was to get into your home. That alone made him go through with installing the cameras and alarm system. It's a precaution.

Now, a sharpshooter yandere? Yeah, as dangerous as the others.

Life had begun as if he was living in the middle of his lifespan, which is something he can't further explain. The world of fights and death was something he grew into. No parents, no friends, no formal childhood... Nothing in his life was what any person could deem as a normal upbringing. Even so, he didn't question any of it. All he did was follow orders.

Just another day of the usual. His target of the day was a man of wealth, but he knew better that despite the wealth, it blinded others of what truly lies beneath his smile. It all would have ran smoothly, but... His attention was diverted. This aggravated him because not only did he lose sight of his target but... No, that was it. He never takes his eyes off of the mission.

His initial speculation was that you were a bodyguard to the man, which would explain your sudden appearance. But upon further inspection, he learned that you were merely a random civilian. Nothing spectacular. Just a distraction that further peeved him off. He wasted time tracking your whereabouts, but now he simply can't go.

Maybe a petty part of him wanted to give you a scare for the inconvenience. It was your fault after all. However, you did catch his attention, which is rare. How... Peculiar.

[genork-the-fandork]

Team

Word Count: 762 Prompt: Cooperation Featured Characters: Takuma Momozuka & Minoru Hinata & Kaito Shinonome A/N: Okay, so I said I was going to explore other characters, but there are a couple days where I return to the main eight. This is one of those days. There is some slightly spoiler-ish territory? But in reality, this is just a kind of made up scenario of a brainstorming session my three favorite boys go through. (I say favorite as if I don't love Shuuji and Ryo to a degree too, haha.) It's been a while since I've written them or witnessed them, so I hope it's not terribly OOC. But nevertheless, I persist! @surviveweek

They needed a plan, but they couldn't agree on anything. Well. Correction. The boys couldn't agree on anything.

Aoi, Saki, and Miu had slunk away to let them all work it out. Takuma, Minoru, and Kaito stood in a triangle of sorts, three points of one shape, but all vastly different-minded. The Kemonogami stood in the spaces between them, a triangle of their own, but they hadn't weighed in on this particular discussion just yet. It seemed they had a silent agreement to let them work it out on their own. For once, Takuma did wish that Agumon at least would interject with something, anything.

Minoru sighed, his hands propped on his hips as his entire body slumped with the motion. "We're going in circles. Obviously we need to do something, but…" His expression crumpled, and he kept his eyes fixed on his feet. "I'm not sure we should be risking so much with everything's that happened."

"There's probably no other way," Kaito insisted, his arms crossed tightly across his chest. If he didn't keep his hands contained, they would start flying, and then nothing would get done. "It might be the only way we'll all get out of here."

Takuma agreed with both of them, in some sense. Yes, it was possible that fighting their way out seemed to be the only way to get things done in this world, but Minoru was right—so much had been lost already. How much more before there was nothing left? No one left? And why was it that he was caught in the middle of this? Again?

Kaito glanced down at Dracmon, who stared back at him in silence. "Do you three have anything to add?"

"You know I'm going to follow you no matter what you do, Kaito," Dracmon said simply.

"And I'll follow you, Takuma!" Agumon said, raising one of his clawed hands. Takuma couldn't ask for a better answer from his partner. It was support, and he knew he was going to need it in the coming hours, even days.

All eyes turned to Falcomon, who held up his wings. "You both have valid points. We'll need to be smart about this."

"Exactly. The smart thing to do is to face it head-on. They won't expect it, after everything." Kaito gestured vaguely, referring to the mysterious "they" that was after them.

"But what if they do? We already tried something like that, and Shuuji—" Minoru's mouth twisted, and he saw the pain flash across Kaito and Takuma's faces. What had happened to Ryo had been terrible. What happened to Shuuji… indescribable. Even if Minoru tried, it just made his stomach twist. Swallowing back the bile that wanted to creep up his throat, he continued, "Bad things have happened when we've tried this."

Kaito shook his head in exasperation. "We know better now. If we all stick together, it should be fine. Takuma?" He turned to Takuma, who had retained the same thoughtful look on his face during this entire discussion.

"You're both right," Takuma began. "We need to be careful, and we need to be smart. I do think sticking together, at least better than we have been, will help. Sitting around rarely works out for us. We usually end up doing something rash."

"What do you suggest, Takuma?" Falcomon asked, his eyes seeming particularly wise at this moment.

Takuma closed his eyes to put words to the shapeless thoughts in his head. "We make a plan. A much more thought-out plan than before. We need to be more aware that failure could happen at any moment." He paused, letting out a breath. "Overall, we need to stay together. Keep an eye on each other. Be honest with each other." Slowly, he met Minoru's gaze and then Kaito's. "Then we can make sure we take care of each other."

There was a moment of silence, of contemplation. Kaito and Minoru kept looking at him, processing his proposal. Then they looked at each other and nodded.

"Sounds good to me," Minoru said, the slump disappearing as he straightened and smiled.

Kaito's smile wasn't nearly as wide, but Takuma knew it was genuine all the same. "Yeah. Let's try it."

If this had been a team meeting, Takuma would have suggested they all put their hands in. That didn't seem applicable here, especially not with Falcomon's wings or the eyes on Dracmon's hands, but he pretended they had done it. "Then let's go tell the others."

It was the most hopeful any of the three of them had felt in a long time.

[indiaalphawhiskey]

Hi India!

I wanted to pop by and say hi! You're very cool and I find myself hardly ever disagreeing with you, but when I do, I walk away with having read a differing but interesting perspective on several topics. It also helps that you're super duper eloquent and articulate, and there have been several instances where I have a thought and no way to put it into words and find that you have done that very effectively. You're also SO KIND??? I can't.

You're a gem, a badass and most importantly (to me, at least) one of my favourite authors of all time. I love you! I hope you have the best day/night ahead!

I genuinely don’t know what sort of magic you have in your heart that you knew I needed something like this today, but thank you. 🩵

I’ll let you in on a little secret: I’m rarely (if ever) called cool. I guess in a traditional sense, I’m not (I’m super basic, and I’ve learned to embrace it) but I’ve always wanted to be. It’s a trait that’s always felt elusive to me; I just have never “had” it (although many people in my life do, in spades) and I’ve always wondered what it would take to get there.

It’s funny, because when Harry’s House first came out, a lot of people dissed the lyrics of Cinema, saying it was juvenile; meanwhile I was sitting here thinking it perfectly captured Louis Tomlinson because I totally know what it feels like to get all sparkled out by someone, and to look at them and think “Fuck, they’re so cool.”

So thank you for what I will now refer to as my Cinema moment. 🥰 and, I’m really glad hearing my opinions feel beneficial in some way, whether it’s because they voice some thoughts you have or because they give you a different perspective. What I like most about tumblr is that the format encourages that level of exchange if you pick and choose what conversations to have and how to have them. Sure, it doesn’t spare you from people determined to misunderstand you, but messages like these make me feel like I’m at least not screaming into the void.

As for every other compliment you peppered in there, dude. My heart is glowing. Seriously, thank you. I’m not always kind, but I try to be, and I feel like I’ve been made infinitely kinder by Larry and by being a larrie.

Forgive the 100k word count thank you, I just really really really needed this today. 😘✨

[theshadowrealmitself]

Your post about

" technically not all of my Star Trek human ocs need to be secretly from the early 21st century"

Made me want to know more about all of those characters. Do you have any other ideas or fun facts about them? I'm honestly quite fascinated to know how different species respond to all of these situations.

I can see both B and C would make for interesting dynamics. I'm sorry if this is a bit "intangible" of a request, but I hope you can figure out what I'm trying to say.

Any time I mention a Human in a Star Trek post, they’re secretly from the 21st century (secretly as in v little know, or at the very least their friend group doesn’t know, sometimes tho there’s one where it’s a secret-secret, I like to think they find a library and teach themselves the future, but get something just a lil bit wrong)

They all have different ways where their traveling forward in time has affected them and what little facts they have, so I’m not sure where to start 😭

For the specific post I made, although I have different ocs that probably match, I was thinking of the same oc for A and B 😔

(it’s the same one who gets into raising rare plants, it’s a whole storyline where after they raise a Vulcan plant, they get in touch with a,, I’m not sure if it has a name (or even exists but it does in this fictional setting), but the plant equivalent of raising a rare species in captivity with the intent to put it back into the wild)

(Takes place in the aos timeline except instead of Vulcan getting destroyed, it only got a bit shaken up, but some plants suffered heavy casualties and so they really need specific species to get repopulated, and the Human oc has one of those species and is v willing to help them get it back to Vulcan)

(It would probably make the best sense for the plot if the plants had some ecological importance, like a specific animal needs them to survive, but I’m weak and the thought of animals starving hurts so instead I’m thinking it’s like,,, a plant that’s a key ingredient in a popular Vulcan dessert or something)

(Anyways, the Human gets in contact with this program that’s obvi run by Vulcans, but this Human did not grow up with any anti-Vulcan bias and does their best to be mindful of them, like trying to avoid emotion-based words, and so their Vulcan “coworkers” actually like working with them)

(Especially the leader of the program who gains a crush on the Human that all the other Vulcans are aware of and like to tease them about, the Human is oblivious to it all tho, refusing to acknowledge any signs that the Vulcan has a crush on them because it wouldn’t be fair to them to see them through a Human-based lens)

(The repeated accidental videocalls/voicemails happen after they successfully get the plants back on the planet and they all go back to their own things, and the Human is trying to get in contact with the Director (I’ve been mentally thinking of the head Vulcan as the Program Director, or the Director for short, no idea if that title would be correct for the job I’m imagining but it’s what stuck) to help them with a new thing, and the Director is incredibly endeared by all the failed video calls and saves them all)

Sorry this wasn’t what you asked for 😭, but if you’re really interested still, it would really help if you asked about a specific Human oc 👀

Oh! And C is an oc where,, I’m not sure how to explain this, but Star Trek has sort of a sanitized feel? Which makes sense since it’s like a government thing, but I like to think that on average in the future, Humans are just less violent and stuff, like maybe they didn’t do a complete 180 like Vulcans, but after the whole,,, y’know,, atrocities and stuff,, I think Humans also had their own version of settling down and being way less violent

So C is just an oc I like to imagine doing stuff like,, offering to vandalize people’s cars for a friend that’s crying and they’re just flabbergasted, like why would you want to?? destroy their hovercar?? Or like maybe casually threatening to murder people just isn’t a thing™️ anymore, so everyone else has no idea what to do about C’s daily murder plots

C just exists for small fun stuff and doesn’t really have a plot 😭 sorry 😭😭😭

[dismemberment-on-a-tuesday-night]

I made a playlist for @oliversrarebooks' main series.

Full annotation under the cut (quite long)

Strange Doings in the Night:

This one has a strong vibe suiting the auction house. Very creepy, with undertones of wealthy patrons and secrecy.

"We get more done in the dark than you can see -- Starlight shadows the sunrise like a thief"

Right to Die:

A song about having one's freedom and very sense of being stripped away for a profit. Lots of vivid imagery, making it one of my personal favorites.

"Take me down the silver river and sell my hair for food -- Sell my independence first so there's no fight -- Take my little things away -- So there's no memories -- And hey! -- When you're done you can just sail into the night"

Pain and Pleasure:

This is technically about some D&D campaign or whatever, but it reminds me of the cast of this story.

"He's got blood that flows with magic -- He's got eyes carved in his skin -- We are soon to see his ending -- But we don't know where he begins"

Farewell Wanderlust:

A melancholy song that fits a lot of details on Alexander that have been hinted at throughout the story.

"Our gods have abandoned us, left us instead -- Take up arms, take my hand, let us waltz for the dead"

Red River:

A song with a constantly shifting tempo and intriguing lines. Technically romantic but suiting Oliver's captivity just as he is first brought under mind control and crushes Emily's hope.

"I'll tell you I love you and need you -- And cherish you over them all -- But my effort gets small as I talk to a -- Ball and my words are all crumpled and torn"

Danse Macabre:

An instrumental song with a lovely tune. Sounds like something that would be playing from a character's record player or radio during the story.

Good Life:

A song all about false promises and propaganda, keeping all sorts of people under control by more natural forms of mental suggestion than those in the story.

"They will tell you your future is lovely and certain -- They will sell you a dream for a dollar ninety-nine -- Oh, they'll make you repay it or call it a crime"

Sweet Dreams (Are Made of This):

A pessimistic view of the world, with focus put on abuse and keeping hope despite it. Could fit most of the characters.

"Sweet dreams are made of this -- Who am I to disagree? -- I travel the world and the seven seas -- Everybody's looking for something"

Old Lace:

Melancholy and metaphorical. Plenty of lines referring to becoming a new person and struggling with one's feelings.

"I wish they'd drop the bomb, I’m wearing thin -- And if I'm drowning in my sorrows, I say bathe in them"

Turn Out the Lights:

Lines about needing to not trust your thoughts (even when they sound like you) take on a new meaning when applied to Oliver's enthrallment.

"You don't have to believe every single thought -- That tumbles through your head -- Just 'cause it sounds like you talking"

Another Great Day:

A song about self doubt in the act of pursuing happiness. It suits multiple characters including Oliver and Alexander.

"And what gives me solace, damages my brain -- Again the sun rises, not any more wiser -- My mind is a geyser, the world is just rain"

Bring Out Your Dead:

A slow melody about losing what you love and hoping for more from life. It reminds me of Emily.

"Make your peace -- A pocket of posies can help -- In the silence that comes with the -- Presence of large predators"

Toccata and Fugue in D minor:

A spooky classical melody, often used in movie soundtracks. I could definitely imagine it playing if this story were on telivision rather than tumblr.

The Headless Horseman:

The roaring 20s style of spooky story telling is similar to the revelations Oliver goes through about the existence of vampires and other monsters.

"There's ghosts with horns and saucer eyes -- Some have fangs about this size -- Some short and fat -- Some tall and thin --And some don't even bother to wear their skin!"

Catharsis:

This one was included mostly because of vibes, but it reminds me of Alexander's... whole thing.

"The cracks had always been on show -- The spirit always broke -- The bottle always emptied well before the candle smoked"

Inkpot Gods:

For Emily and Oliver, right after Lily gets in Oliver's head. It has romantic overtones, but could fit friends or even siblings.

"And I can hear him break -- And he doesn't understand -- And I wish that I could take his hand -- But where I'm going is for me and me alone"

Hey, Little Songbird:

From the musical Hadestown, all about false promises dragging a hero down to hell. It suits the chapters dedicated to Lily's mind control.

"Hey, little songbird, you got something fine -- You’d shine like a diamond down in the mine -- And the choice is yours if you’re willing to choose -- Seeing as you’ve got nothing to lose -- And I could use a canary"

Faerie's Aire and Death Waltz:

I listen to instrumental music a lot while reading, and this is one of my favorites. I often put it on for this story.

The Quittin' Kind:

A cabaret song from a singer with a beautiful voice. It reminds me of Oliver, and his lamentations over the life he could have had. Though the song refers to art as escapism, not books, it has the same effect.

"There's a corner you painted yourself in -- I'm not sure what was your intention? -- Now you're trapped alone on an island and you can't swim"

Passerine:

The use of metaphors regarding nature and human history paint a vivid picture. Though honestly, I included it because I have sysnesthesia and this song is the same color as much of the first chapter.

"When he comes a knocking at my door -- What am I to do, What am I to do, oh lord -- When the cold wind rolls in form the north -- What am I to do, What am I to do, oh lord"

Have a Seat Misery:

Honestly, this could fit almost every major character. It's all about relapsing into depression and bad habits, especially in times of loneliness.

"Have a seat, misery -- Lord how I've missed you -- Don't go crying to me -- That I kept you away for too long -- Just put your feet up, friend -- 'Cause I read all your postcards -- And in a way I am happy to say -- That you've never been gone"

Remember Something Beautiful:

A song about holding onto hope for a better future during bad times. It reminds me of Emily's old life, among other things.

"When you're jaded, and you're lonely, and the world's about to end -- Just remember something beautiful is just around the bend"

Opening Themes: Dark Shadows:

This is a niche joke. The 60s show Dark Shadows introduced the concept of a "sympathetic vampire" rather than making Barnabas Collins pure evil. It had a drastic effect on how all modern writers handle vampires, whether they're aware of it or not. But Alexander is much nicer than Barnabas.

The Lesser of 200 Evils:

This could be Alexander's theme song, as far as Oliver is concerned. The premise is viewing someone as the lesser of evils, but still knowing them to be truly evil, even if they're your best option.

"This house is a rotten place -- Where you don't believe a thing that your worth -- The lesser of two hundred evils -- But you're still evil"

Ancient History:

A song about drowning under the emotional weight past events that should be water under the bridge by now. At least, according to the people around you. It reminds me of all of Alexander's angst.

"My body's aching like a knock-down drag-out -- And my poor heart is an open wound -- It's ancient history that's bleeding out of me -- So what am I supposed to do?"

Devil May Care:

The lyrics referring to the biblical fall of lucifer, and where he might be hiding now, quoting expressions like "the devil's in the lyrics". Another vibes based inclusion.

"The Devil can deal any hand you choose -- Damned if you don't, damned if you do"

The Louisville Shuffle (RIP):

All about changing from one thing to another, maybe for the better and maybe for the worst. Becoming unrecognizable to those who once knew you.

"But the scenery won't change until you die -- The scenery won't change and nor will I -- Rest in peace to the me that you had in your head"

Welcome to the Circus:

The premise of this song meshes well with everything Oliver and his fellow humans go through during the auction. Being dolled up and put on display, expected to put their best foot forward while having their trauma completely brushed aside.

"And we will pick apart your mind -- As you are breaking down -- And we'll continue laughing -- After all, you're just a silly clown -- Pay attention to what you're saying -- Make sure it's entertaining -- Lights. Camera. -- Welcome to your life"

Under the Willow:

Another melancholy song I included for reasons of [checks notes] sysnethsesia. But as I think more about it, it could be yet another Alexander song.

"But I believe I'm worth redemption -- 'Cause thunder, thunder shook me to the core -- While I was hiding under the willow"

The Vampire Masquerade:

A good tune with a fitting name. Don't ask me to explain, but it's the same color as Lily and a few of her patrons. It's also a good song to listen to while reading.

The Simplest Words:

Like a lot of songs on this playlist, this one is about doubting your own feelings, and not knowing which are real and which are fake.

"This body is built on the ruins of -- All the people I have ever been -- Wise men build their houses on rocks -- While the rest of us settle for skeletons"

Bloodsucker:

Other than bloodsucker being a fictional slur used against vampires, the symbolism in this song tracks with Lily's business and the keeping of her own thrall.

"It's so quiet, oh my god -- Thanks for inviting me in, you won't feel anything -- Red rich blood, let's drink up -- I want your thin skin, i know what you're trying to tell me"

And there it is. My full playlist. It may be changed and updated in the future, but I'll try to leave it be.

[icarusignite]

An Eye for an Eye (part 17)

A/N: whomp whomp not really proofread so apologies for any typos. Comments and reblogs are appreciated, I love hearing y'alls thoughts <3

Word Count: 2605

All chapters: MASTERLIST

The flight to King's Landing was a short one, Daenys urging her dragon to go as fast as possible. Throughout the whole journey, she argued with herself about whether or not this was a foolish idea and she considered turning back multiple times. No one knew where she was going or that she had even left Dragonstone and if she was caught, she would be taken hostage for sure. She could still remember the feeling of Aemond's hand around her wrists when he had tried to take her from Strom's End. She could not run into him at any cost. She was just here for some sort of closure. To witness the fruit of Daemon's revenge. She landed Silverwing on the outskirts of the city; she couldn't risk bringing her any closer to the castle lest anyone saw her. Once she had dismounted, she spoke to her dragon in High Valyrian, sending her off until she would need to call her again. Dragons were easily recognizable creatures and a waiting dragon even more so. She made the trek to the Red Keep on foot, keeping her pace brisk. There was an urgency in her footsteps that surprised her, it wasn't as though she had an appointment to keep but something in her heart made her speed up anyways. As she walked her cloak's hood fell back and she pulled it forward to shadow her face once again. Targaryen hair was another easily recognizable thing, and hers might as well act as a beacon in the bright moonlight.

When she finally arrived at the castle, she took a moment to catch her breath. Now that she was here, she didn't know what to do. She didn't know where to go or even what to look for. She didn't know what form Daemon's revenge would take, it could as easily be a poisoned cup of wine for everyone knew Aegon's love for the drink, or it could be a silent cutthroat from Flea Bottom, someone who could slip into anyone's chambers and slit their throat. Daenys let out a frustrated breath. So it really was a foolish idea to come all the way here. She should have just kept her curiosity in check and waited for the news back at Dragonstone. Now she had made the journey for nothing and she was tired, her legs aching from the long walk. The thought of going all the way back seemed irritating and she was sure her dragon probably needed the break as well.

Then an idea emerged in her head. Since she was here she might as well pay a visit to Helaena. Dear Helaena whom she hadn't even said goodbye to. And the children, oh how Daenys missed those children. They were perhaps the only few things she missed about the Red Keep. She regretted leaving them behind and she knew that the longer this war dragged on, the further apart she would drift from them. She wondered if Helaena's youngest, Maelor, even remembered her. He was only two, and children that age rarely had any sense of object permanence. The thought made her heart twinge, for it saddened her to think that she would be just another faceless person to him. Perhaps Helaena and the children would even grow to hate her, if they didn't already. Helaena had to be hurt by her abrupt departure and lack of farewell. Daenys tried to think back on what she remembered of the princess's schedule. She would be taking her children up to the royal apartments at around this time in the evening, to put them to bed. She'd spend a few hours with them before returning to her own chambers. Yes, she'd go visit them and try to make things right, or as right as she could. She'd apologize to Helaena for leaving without seeing her and she'd forgive her. She'd tell her that she desperately hoped that this conflict over the Iron Throne wouldn't drive a wedge between them. Perhaps it was a foolish and naive thought but it brought her comfort nonetheless. She did not want to lose a friendship that meant so much to her.

That was how Daenys found herself standing under the window into the room that she knew Helaena currently occupied. She craned her head to try and get a glimpse inside but it was too high. One way to get inside would be to go through the main entrance and make her way into the chambers using the multitude of secret passageways that snaked through the Red Keep. However, that would be a time-consuming task and it put her at a greater risk of being seen. The other way was to enter through the window. The walls were generously covered in trellis and the obvious answer would be to simply climb it, but Daenys had learned, through one fateful accident from when she was a child, that the vines were not sturdy enough after the first few metres. If they were not sturdy enough to bear her weight at age seven, they definitely wouldn't now. Many would consider the task hopeless then, but if you spent enough time exploring the Red Keep as Daenys had, you'd know that there were divots and imperfections in the stone wall that acted as perfectly suitable footholds if you knew where to find them. Ignoring her protesting leg muscles, Daenys dug her hands into the stone crevices and began to haul herself upward. When she was only a short distance below the window ledge, she stopped. The window was open and she could hear voices coming from inside. Did Helaena have guests perhaps? The voice was obviously a male voice so it couldn't have been Alicent, but it sounded nothing like Otto or any of her brothers.

"Scream, and you all die."

Daenys's heart raced as she swore internally. Something was clearly wrong. Someone was in danger and she foolishly hoped, that somehow, on this night Helaena had decided to deviate from her routine and she was anywhere else in the castle except for in that room. Daenys hastily pulled herself the rest of the way up before gingerly peaking her head above the threshold to look into the room. It was dark, like all the candles had been snuffed out. Two men stood with their backs toward her and Daenys almost let out a gasp. The bulkier of the two men had his hand firmly placed on Jaehaerys's shoulder and a sword to his throat. The other held a squirming Maelor hoisted up on his hip, a dagger to the screeching boy's neck. Helaena stood opposite them, with her face toward the window, Jaehaera hiding behind her dress.

"Who are you?" there was a tremble in Helaena's voice that she tried to conceal.

"Debt collectors. An eye for an eye and a son for a son. We're here for one of your sons Your Grace," the slighter man snarled.

Daenys's blood ran cold. No. No no no. This couldn't be it. This could not possibly be the revenge that Daemon promised her mother. It could not be...and yet it was. Who else would use those words? An eye for an eye and a son for a son, the very same words that were inscribed in Daemon's message. Daenys's mind sped in a hundred different directions trying to make sense of the scene and she saw Helaena come to the same conclusion at the same time as her.

"You're here to kill my sons." Helaena's voice broke.

"We only want one. 'Tis a fair trade. Won't hurt the rest of you fine folks, not one lil' hair. Which one do you want to lose, Your Grace?" the man who spoke earlier responded.

This is what broke Helaena. She fell to her knees, trying to push her terrified daughter behind her to shield her from the horror. The air was thick with tension. Daenys watched the scene unfold, her heart in her throat. She considered leaving, for a single treacherous moment. She could climb back down, pretend that she saw nothing and fly back to Dragonstone to await the news of Aegon's dead son. It was sickening and horrific, a twisted form of justice for her brother, who wasn't even given a chance to beg for his life. This would be revenge. She could just imagine the reactions, Queen Alicent, Aemond, and Aegon; everyone would feel the loss as deeply as her own family felt Luke's. Everyone would grieve and rage and hurt as much as she did and she imagined that she would like to get drunk on their devastation. But then another, quieter thought joined the rest of her vicious ones. Helaena would hurt too. Darling sweet Helaena who brushed her hair and wove flowers in her braids when the death of her brother left her too grief-addled.  Lovely, kind Helaena who brought her lively children and deposited them into her lap so they could giggle and climb all over her to help cheer up their Aunt Denny. Tenderhearted Helaena who sang lullabies to her when Luke's ghost plagued her dreams. Who most of all was not the one who killed her brother and did not deserve such pain when she had never caused anyone any pain in her entire life. The children too were innocent. Jaehaerys and Jaehaera only six and Maelor even younger. They did not deserve to lose their lives, as her brother had, to such senseless violence in a dispute started by grown men. Daenys was snapped out of her reverie by Helaena's hysterical wailing.

"No. No, please. Take me instead. Please don't hurt my children," Helaena begged through a cascade of tears.

"Who said anything about children? We're only here for one son. 'Tis a generous offer Queenie so you better hurry up and choose."

Daenys looked between the two men. She had to act fast but both men had their weapons pressed against the boys' throats and one wrong move could cause severe damage. Daenys needed to find a way to take them both out at the same time because if she engaged with only one, that would leave the other free to hurt Helaena and the children. The only thing she really had was the element of surprise. Daenys cursed herself again for not bringing more weapons, for not carrying more useful things with her. She slid her legs over the edge of the window and settled them on the carpeted floor, but as she did so, Helaena's eyes fell on her. It was a momentary glance but it was enough to fill her eyes with additional anguish and betrayal.

Betrayal?

Did Helaena think she was here with the two men, that she was part of this scheme to murder her children? Daenys felt sick.

"Please. Please I am begging you, take me instead. I'll-I'll do anything...anything...please."

"A wife's not a son Your Grace. It has to be one of your boys."

"Please, please, please. How much are you being paid to do this? Please, I'll give you anything. Please don't take my sons."

"You better hurry up and decide," the smaller man gestured toward his friend, "My friend here might grow bored and have his fun with your little girl while we wait."

Helaena made a strangled choking sound and it was the man's final comment that made Daenys snap. She crept up behind the shorter man first, standing directly behind him as he made more threats. He was the greater danger because he held Maelor and the younger boy would not be able to escape on his own. Daenys figured that afterward, she would only need to hurt his larger friend enough for Jaehaerys to slip away from his grasp. She held her breath and moved quietly enough that his companion did not notice her. No one else in the room noticed her. It certainly helped that Helaena purposely avoided looking at her, but Daenys couldn't decide if it was to avoid drawing attention to her or if it was because she just couldn't bear to look at her. She had a sinking feeling that it was the latter. She watched Helaena struggle to name a child in between blubbering sobs and waited for the man to grow tired of waiting. For the dagger in his hand to move even the slightest bit away from where it was pressed against the little prince's throat.

Then the moment struck. The man yawned and Daenys's dagger whispered across his throat in one clean stroke. He made a strangled sound and blood burst forth. He reactively pushed the dagger forward but it met resistance. Not having the strength to push further, he dropped the young prince and the dagger. Helaena was there to catch her younger son and pull him to safety. The next few moments happened in the blink of an eye. The second man turned toward his friend in surprise and Daenys used his momentary distraction to pierce one of her daggers into the hand that held his sword. She pulled out another dagger and stabbed it into the meat of his other arm. He howled, dropping the sword, and Jaehaerys twisted away from his hold.

then Daenys heard Helaena scream in the background and she wondered with wild panic if she was alright. Was one of the children hurt? She had killed the first man, she knew that for sure. One of the things you learned growing up with Daemon was how to slit a man's throat with deadly precision. It was her concern for them that made Daenys blindly lash out. She had to kill this second man before he turned his attention back to what he had come for. With no regard for her own safety, she reached out to pull her dagger free from his shoulder and buried it between his ribs, twisting until he made a wet choking sound and blood spilt from his lips.

The man was not dead though. He turned toward Daenys with fury in his eyes and she took three steps backward, trying to lead the fight as far away from Helaena and the children as possible. He reached out to grab her throat but she ducked. Instead, he grabbed a fistful of her hair and hauled her head up. Daenys slashed out with her dagger and it caught him in the ribs. He dropped her and she crawled away. He gave chase. He was large and lumbering and Daenys's smaller frame allowed her the advantage of speed, but he was much stronger. He had picked up his sword at some point. Daenys blanched. To do any real damage with her dagger, she'd have to get closer to him, and now with the sword between them, that was near impossible. He swung his sword in a wide arc and Daenys felt a stinging pain in her side. Her single eye made it harder to guage direction and coordinate her movements to strike too precisely and she did not have time to stop and take a drink from her flask. He swung again repeatedly and got her a few more times before she rolled out of the way.

Daenys took a deep breath, and threw her dagger, praying that it would hit its mark, that it would hit him somewhere, anywhere. She breathed a sigh of relief when it embedded itself in his shoulder. Not his heart, but at least it hit him. However, this only aggravated him further as he stomped toward her with renewed vigour. She stumbled back and her back hit the window sill. He closed his fist around her throat, pushing until he had her dangled out the open window, her legs kicking helplessly in the wind. She hazarded a look down and her vision swam. It would be a long fall. Suddenly she felt the left half of her face cramp painfully and she groaned. What terrible timing for her eye to act up. The pressure on her windpipe combined with the scalding sensation in her face made her lose focus.

Daenys could feel the life leaving his body and then the hand around her throat went limp.

_______________

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