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kooktrash · 2 years

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fighting heart | jeon jungkook au

summary: never living a life of luxury, Jungkook does what he has to do to make ends-meet. right now that means fighting in underground clubs, getting beat black and blue until he wins. he knows there’s a better life out there for him but he never let himself think about it. until you came along and suddenly a weight is being lifted off his shoulders letting you through his guarded walls. you’re everything he needed and you make him want to fight for more.

warnings: 15k words. smut. angst. boxer!jk x curvy,f!reader. violence [fight scenes]. mentions of blöod. rich y/n. degradation of y/n [a few times] but not by jk. mentions of wounds. y/n got some mommy milkers lowkey. big hips that jk likes t—. unprotected. fingering. handjob. missionary. sweet. y/n is whipped but Jk is whippeder. jin is kinda sketchy kinda not. tw: harmful language, physical violence, anatomical injuries. illegal fight club. gambling.

No where he went could he find silence. Rattling cages, loud chants and even bottles breaking. The room he was currently in was poorly lit. And he could barely see the damage that has been done. The room was in hues of green with dirty white tile showers and sinks with rust on them. The ground was covered in stains of old blood that didn’t wash away from the polished cement. Hanging above his head were fluorescent making hissing noises like the glass would soon burst into flames and shatter across the floor. They were flickering too, he could see them clearly through the dirty mirror he was staring at himself through.

He was a mess himself and he had no clue where to start. His hair was drenched in sweaty locks sticking to his face in strange whimsical lines. There was blood dripping down over his brow piercing somewhere on his hair line but he couldn’t see it clearly yet. There was a large red mark on his rib cages but other than those couple injuries he considered himself pretty clean.

The water pressure from the faucet was poor and when he first turned it on the water had a brown tint to it. He let it run over his wet rag squeezing out the excess before cleaning the blood and sweat off his face. He leaned forward and splashed water onto his face and rubbed some into his hair to at least rinse his sweaty hair a little bit. From behind him he could hear the swinging doors part ways as someone walked in with a huge grin on their face. He waved a stack of papers in his hand smacking it against the palm of his other hand, business suit and shoes sticking out from this room like a sore thumb. His hair was slipped back in a nice style and he looked better than Jungkook did at the moment.

“You killed it out there,” Kim Seokjin said as he leaned against the counter on the wall, staring at Jungkook’s back and the red mark on his side, “He got a few hits in it seems.” As he said that he moved to stand again walking over to the ice machine next to the broken paper towel dispenser. He took the big ziploc bags off the machine and began putting ice into one of the bags. He took plastic wrap with him as he walked over to Jungkook and motioned for the guy to lift his arm.

“Don’t worry kid, your cut is good today,” Jin said, pressing the ice bag to Jungkook’s injured side before bringing the wrap over it and pulling it around his torso to hold the bag down. Jungkook just looked at the drop of blood still leaking from the cut on his forehead making him reach out for his rag again. The sink had a new stain of blood on it from where his rag had been running under the water. He looked at Jin through the mirror, “How much?”

Jin smiled, “Little more than a grand but I got a few more investors out there looking to see another fight. You’ll get there once you focus fully on training.”

“I’m not a fighter,” Jungkook grumbled as he turned quickly once Jin finished up. There was a small limp to his step as he walked to his gym bag looking for clothes to change into. Jin shook his head in disbelief, “Not a fighter? Then tell me what I just watched tonight.”

“I told you this already. I’m not interested in doing anything more than a couple fights here and there,” Jungkook said putting on a worn out, oversized gray t-shirt. Jin groaned in frustration, “I don’t get why you’re so against it. You can make much more money if we go big. You’ll be rich you know? I can already see your fights on pay-per-view. Just think about the money, that’s why you’re doing this aren’t you? Think about your family.”

“I am thinking about my family, that’s why I’m saying no,” Jungkook told him, changing into some black sweats and throwing a hoodie on. The bag of ice was slowly melting but at this point he didn’t care about how ridiculous he looked, “They’d kill me if they knew I was fighting again, I’m sorry man, but no.”

He took his cut of the money from Jin, slipping his hood over his head and hoisting his gym bag on his shoulder, “Call me.”

His leg ached making his entire walk out of the underground club to his car all the more slow. His car lights blinked as it unlocked and he chucked his bag in the backseat finally getting in and starting the engine. Jungkook’s neighborhood was far from being nice but it’s location close to busy streets made night life more active. He got to his apartment shortly after, sirens going off just outside his window where he could see flashing lights and the tops of old buildings.

Despite how late it was, and his need to be alone he couldn’t have that. Not when his phone began ringing. He winced, reaching into his pocket and taking it out. Once he saw the caller ID he debated ignoring it. Now isn’t the time for it when he’s got a pretty girl in his bed telling him you don’t want to go home. But he answered anyway, “Hello?”

“Hi honey, I know it’s late but um,” his mother stuttered, he could practically picture her fidgeting, “We’re behind on rent again. I wouldn’t be coming to you if I didn’t need to.”

Jungkook didn’t say anything, it was the same thing over and over every single time. He was in his bathroom now, pressing his phone to his ear, “When is it due?”

“Well it was due a couple days ago—“ “And what happened to what I sent you the other day?” Jungkook asked.

“Your father needed it for a, well, uh, I can’t remember but you’re my son, you’re more reliable than anyone else,” his mother said, making him roll his eyes. “So why’d you wait till now to tell me? Should I call your landlord and see how long it’s been overdue?”

“Yah, don’t be like that,” his mother begged, “You’re supposed to help your parents. That’s why you moved wasn’t it? Why are you even up so late? What have you been doing? Who were you with? Were you fighti—“

“I’m hanging up. I’ll send the money in the morning,” with a tired sigh he ended the call wincing once more when he reached up for the handle to his medicine cabinet.

His small rectangular window was his only source of light in the bathroom as he rummaged through his medicine cabinet but his first aid kit was empty. With a tired grunt he closed it back up and left looking around for his things pulling the melted ice bag away that was now just a puddle of water. He grabbed his wallet and keys before leaving his apartment once more, this time by foot.

After a five minute walk he found himself in front of a familiar convenience store and he went in, immediately going to the medical section. He probably shouldn’t be walking around with so much money on him but it was too late to worry about that.

“Oh my god hurry up, I’m literally scared for my life,” A girl squealed a couple aisles down and Jungkook tried to ignore her, “We should’ve just gotten it delivered.”

“And if they didn’t have what I wanted?” Another voice piped in, slightly more bearable than the previous one but with the same tone, “Besides everyone can hear you, y’know?” As if he’d been the one spoken to he looked up from under his hood, eyes softening for a fraction of a second as they met your stare. He was the first to look away once he caught his reflection on the fridge doors behind you filled with alcohol. There was a line of red down his forehead again and it made him duck down under the aisle top and look for what he needed.

“I don’t care who hears me, just get a bottle and let’s go. Jimin’s waiting,” The high pitched voice spoke again and Jungkook found a box of wound closure band-aids, pain killers, and icy/hot patches. You rolled your eyes at her looking over to the guy in the hoodie again, there was a red stain on his forehead that you noticed right away. A little after Jungkook found himself standing behind you in line. He didn’t expect to find such a sight in front of him. You were in a hot pink mini skirt and a white blouse that matched your heels. Your legs weren’t super long but your thighs were wider and so were your hips. It made the fabric of your skirt hug your curves in the best way possible.

You and your friend finished up with the cashier and he found himself twisting a lock of hair over the bleeding cut on his forehead to hide it. He could feel your eyes follow him for a moment as you left at that and he moved forward to the counter.

That night he healed his wounds in his studio apartment under the moonlight while you got in the back of a Porsche for a night drinking.

There was a stiffness in the air, like all the poise and class was just an act that was hard to maintain. At least that’s what Jungkook thought because as he looked around not a single person seemed to be what they tried so hard to appear. Now, he’ll admit he’s probably the most out of place here but that didn’t mean he couldn’t notice things. For instance, his partner wore an expensive suit with a shiny Rolex that demanded the attention of everyone in the room. Yet he still seemed gentle, far from intimidating which is what he’s so poorly tried to portray. A hand landed on his shoulder blade giving him a little shake as the man spoke, “Lighten up Jungkook, this is for you. You made me good money last week. Think of this as a sign of my appreciation.”

“Is that what this is?” Jungkook asked looking around the lounge room with expensive alcohol in crystal glasses and 100,000$ leather seats. He started to fix the cuff of his black button-up as he looked around some more. The men in here were either his age or way older, all in designer suits and watches. All the women were young, beautiful, lavished.

Just like the one who crossed his line of sight in a black, shimmery dress that was barely around mid-thigh. A silver, diamond charm bracelet on the wrist that matched every piece of jewelry on your body—from what he can see. You were far across from him, somewhere off with a group he couldn’t see well and the dim light applying a glow to you in particular. And yet he recognized you right away as the person from the store last night.

“I’ve treated you to dinner, I figured I might as well treat you to drinks too,” Seokjin said looking up from his phone just as Jungkook’s eyes snapped back to him, no longer focusing on the stranger. He released a sigh, “Alright, I want to talk about business. There’s another match this weekend. Two fights and a couple grand in your pocket. It’s short notice and you need time to recover but I was hoping to convince you.”

“Against who?” Jungkook asked tipping his glass of scotch back before placing it down on the small glass table between them two. Jin gave a nonchalant shrug of his shoulders, “Some new kid and Park Seungmin. What do you say? Do I get it set?”

“Ask me again after a few drinks,” Jungkook said. Music played behind them but not nearly as loud as a regular night club’s and there was a faint smell of cigar. He hardly paid attention to whatever other small talk the two of them made, he was too tired to say anything on his own. He hadn’t even wanted to come out with Jin at first. It’s not that he didn’t like the guy. He did. The problem was that he could not understand why Jin would want to be a part of the kind of life Jungkook has involved himself in. Kim Seokjin came from money, the good kind of money.

It meant he’s never had to worry about food in his stomach or if the electricity would be cut off. He’s never lied about christmas presents he never recieved or about not having lunch money. He’s grown in gated communities and trips abroad for the holidays. There’s no reason for him to be making dirty money just because he could. Jungkook didn’t hate him, he just couldn’t never fully trust that Jin had his best interest in mind. All he knows is that he’s the only one Jungkook can go to at the moment and he’s going to see how far he can get. The downside was that Jin wanted him to go the professional route. He wants to mentor him and get him in more official rings that could be broadcasted. His boxing was good, Jin saw potential so he badgered Jungkook about it nonstop. He didn’t listen though, he was fine fixing cars and had no intention in being a professional fighter.

If he had paid more attention to Seokjin instead of the marks on his hands he might have noticed the way Jin casually looked around the lounge room. He seemed stuck on someone behind him, brows furrowed together in concentration before his eyes relaxed momentarily. He looked back to Jungkook, “I’ll be right back. I think I see someone I know.”

Jungkook didn’t bother responding, merely waving him off as he looked down at his phone. The money he just earned from his last match was enough to send to his parents but he still needs more for rent and utilities. His job won’t pay him till the day after rent is due and he can’t ask for another extension. If he wants to cover the rest he’ll have to do the fights Jin asked of him. He’s still a little sore from the last fight but if he tries to get back on training he should be fine.

“Look at all the space we have, just take a seat,” Jin said finally making Jungkook look up as three people were filing into the booth. He noticed right away when you were making your way into the rounded booth pretty much inching closer to him. He’ll admit, up close you’re even more beautiful than he thought when he looked at you from afar. Now he can see your features better than he had at the store. What are the chances that he ran into a random stranger twice? And one he thought about on his walk home from the store as a short distraction?

You didn’t shy away from looking him over as you finally sat down just a few inches away from him. Jin flashed him a smile, “Jungkook these are some friends of mine. This is Taehyung, Jia and Y/n. Everyone meet Jungkook.”

Jin didn’t give much time for introductions when he waved over a server and ordered more drinks for the table. Jungkook took his chance to get a look at you again and for the first time that night, your eyes met his. He was the first to crack even the smallest hint of a smile. You had a pretty face, your cheeks slightly rounded but your eyes were what drew him in. He likes the curve of your waist and the way your thighs look soft to the touch. Your dress had been a little higher from the back than the front and he understood why. You were so physically attractive to him. You had wider hips and a slight tummy pouch. The top of your dress was easily filled out by your chest which spilled slightly from the top. Your collarbone still seemed to protrude and a diamond necklace with your name engraved rested prettily on it. Y/n, he remembers the girl next to you saying it the other night.

“So what are you guys doing here? Don’t you have better places to drink at on a Saturday?” Jin asked once drinks came and Jungkook looked over to where the conversation was. Taehyung gave a shrug of his shoulders looking to his two friends, “Just wanted to get a few good drinks in before going out. Are you two free? Want to come with?”

Jin shared a look with Jungkook, “Yeah? Let some stress out.” He wasn’t sure though, he’s already over exerted himself being out with Jin but at the same time now that it’s been brought up he wouldn’t mind. There was a shift on his side and suddenly you were leaning forward to look at his face.

“I agree, if you’re stressed then maybe you should come have drinks with us,” you said with a bright smile. That convinced him way too easily and before he knew it, he was leaving with the rest of you to a club. He stood behind you in line and when you were all inside he was at the bar right there with you.

“You look familiar,” you said bluntly turning away from the bar counter to look at him while your drinks were made. It caught him off guard at first before saying, “You do too.” Your smile was softer now but just as pretty and you batted your lashes, “I know where I’ve seen you.”

“Where?” Jungkook wanted to see if you actually did recognize him or if he just looked familiar to someone else you’ve seen. You pointed a finger at him, “The store. You were dressed all emo and stuff.”

“I was just wearing dark colors,” What you said made him smile a little before adding in, “But yes, I recognize you too. You were wearing pink.”

“Oh you even remember what i had been wearing? Was it because you liked it or because you liked me?”

“Can I say both?” Jungkook said with a lighter tone now. He found you attractive, alluring even, despite your snobbish tone. Your eyes narrowed in interest and you let your eyes travel from the faded scar on his forehead to the belt holding his jeans up. He was attractive in a way you couldn’t explain. An absolutely beautiful intimidating man.“I thought I knew all of Jinnie’s friends, how come I don’t know you?” You asked taking your drinks from the bartender.

He gave a small shrug, “I wouldn’t say we’re close, more like acquaintances. How do you know him?”

“Family friends.” “All of you?” You gave a nod of your head taking a sip from your drink just as he did. You looked down at the hand he had on the bar too. It was covered in ink and rings on his pretty fingers but the more you looked the more you saw. It included red knuckles with faded purple and brown marks like bruises. Jungkook noticed right away where your attention had drifted and he opted for moving his hand off and keeping it to his side.

“Can I be honest with you?” He asked suddenly trying to draw attention away from his hand and also speak some truth at the moment, “I think you’re beautiful.”

So he found himself closer to you later on in the night. His hand had even made itself to your hips as you sat on the stool scooted close to his. The two of you had completely forgotten about the group you were supposed to be with but they didn’t even attempt to intervene. If anyone seemed hesitant it was only Taehyung and Jin just brushed his worries away. He knew you well and you liked the fun, he knew Jungkook needed some fun even if it’s just for one night.

Later on in the night the two of you disappeared into a cab. He was more hesitant than you were to initiate any sort of intimate contact. Even inside the club he only had an arm around you and when he offered to take you home he was only hoping to spend a little more time with you before asking for your number. He didn’t expect for you to be on him in the back of the cab. Your lips were on his and he was kissing back eagerly, uncaring for the way the cab driver looked back at you.

“Just one address or two?” The driver asked as you pressed a kiss against Jungkook’s jaw leaving him breathless. His hand was on your curved back keeping you close as he barely had a chance to look over to the driver. You beat him to it when you pulled away for a quick second to mutter, “One address,” and went back to kissing him. He wasn’t complaining, he hasn’t done this in a while.

With work and all the matches he’s been in on top of training, he doesn’t have much time to go out and meet people who weren’t drunk placing bets on him. Even the women at the fights were drunk, a little more sleazy, not as clean and definitely didn’t have skin as soft as yours. His other hand found it’s way to your thigh, fingernails digging into the plump skin and he wanted to do more than just touch with his hands.

Jungkook’s not sure how it happened but they ended up at his place instead of yours, maybe because it was closer to the club or maybe because he gave it to the man first. Either way it was too late to argue about it when you were already urging him to get out. He quickly paid for the cab and was helping you, kissing you one last time as the cab drove off. He smiled sweetly, “You sure you’re okay with this?”

“Okay with what?” You asked wrapping your arms around his mid section leaning into him when his arms went around your waist. He cleared his throat looking down at you slightly more concerned now, “With this, with me…”

You smiled, “I wouldn’t be here if I wasn’t.” You’re not even asking questions. Not about his bruises or cuts or red knuckles, “Besides, I like you so are you going to take me upstairs or am I just gonna stay out here.” Jungkook took your hand now dragging you behind him inside his building trying not to get your expression. He didn’t want to see how you’d feel about his clearly run down apartment. Even this late at night there were a few tenants just sitting around on the stairs. He moved you in front of him staying close behind you to avoid you being stared at by some creep from the back. Once you were in his dark apartment it was immediate.

You didn’t even look around the place, letting him lead you to creaky twin sized bed he called his own and kissed him roughly, hands pulling at his shirt immediately as he made himself comfortable sitting next to you. You were on your knees looking taller than him deepening the kiss with your tongue now and he was gladly kissing back just as hard. His hands found their way to your legs, squeezing once again at your meaty thighs that pressed against each other with no gap between. The fullness of your figure was so damn tempting and it had his fingers inching under your short dress.

When you didn’t seem to object to his touch he went ahead and let his hands circle around your hips to the back where he could feel a very small pair of panties covering very little. Like your thighs, your butt was squishy making his fingers sink into it as he felt you up and it had him groaning into your mouth in want. His mouth trailed down your jaw, sucking gently against your neck as his hands continued feeling you up, your dress already up and around your wide hips as he played with your underwear. A finger slipped under it holding it out as he let his hand feel underneath.

A breath caught in Jungkook’s throat when your hand was pressing against his thigh now, long nail barely grazing his leg moving closer and closer to his growing member. You seemed just as impatient as he did and it made him wonder how long it’s been for you too. He doubts it’s been as long as him. You took him by surprise when you started unbuttoning his jeans with one hand and with ease and he was helping you move them out of your way. Following your lead when your hand began to palm him over his briefs, he did the same.

You moaned softly into his mouth as his hand pressed against your slicked heat from behind with his arm around your waist pressing you into his side. His head was aligned with your heavy chest and when he leaned it against the silky fabric, he could feel the softness of your breasts. His free hand couldn’t stop himself from reaching up and feeling you better. You wore a thin, flimsy bralette that hadn’t even been enough to conceal your nipples throughout the night but it made it easier for him to feel you better. The weight of your breasts was heavy in his hand, flesh spilling between his large fingers and you were so damn soft, everywhere. It made him want to sink into you, press his face between them and just feel your warmth.

Your breath hitches as he circles your clit, sending small shocks throughout your body. He moved your underwear out of the way, revealing your perfect cunt to his fingers with no barrier. Just as your hand snuck under his briefs, his middle finger was running between your folds, slowly letting more into your tight snatch. Even down between your legs were you soft, just as plump and warm. Your hand held his cock now, almost fully hard and with a gentle stroke you felt him hardening even more. Finally his long finger sinks in just as the strap of your dress slipped off your shoulders exposing more of your breasts to him. Without thinking he tugged your bra down making your tits bulge out from on top even more, “You’re so damn beautiful.”

He was being honest as he kissed the plump flesh feeling it bounce along his tongue and he just wanted to take a nipple into his mouth and suck. You didn’t answer verbally but he could physically feel the light squeeze of his cock on an upstroke and he was groaning around your nipple. His face was still rubbing against your breasts as his middle finger pumped in and out of your wet cunt lathering it in more slick and he took the chance to sink another finger in. You gasp, your tits bouncing against his face and he let them rub over his face while simultaneously hitting that spongy pleasure spot in your tight walls, stroking it everytime his fingers sank back in. You were still on your knees on his bed and he was still holding you against his side as you jerked off his cock but he wanted more.

Fingers still inside your pussy, he began to stand not moving your hand off his dick as he lightly pushed you back to lie down. His hand left your folds from behind and slipped it between your thighs again from the front. His pace quickens, and he uses his weight to hold you down, twirling your thick buds with his tongue. You breathed heavily feeling the twitch of his member when your thumb ran over the slit in his tip over and over again.

Without thinking, and probably too rough, his hands were leaving your breasts and pussy to pull at the fabric of your dress. It’s been teasing him all night and he needed it gone, so that’s what he did. The fabric was no match for the rough yank he did on it making it tear open and he was harsh with the way he yanked it off your body groaning at the sight.

He stood taking his jeans and shirt off as you undid your bra kicking it off exposing large breasts to his hungry eyes. His hands run down your middle, the soft chub on your ribs and stomach sinking his finger in and he was staring down at you with awe, “You’re so beautiful.”

“You already said that, I want to know what you’ll do to show it to me,” you teased wiggling your hips when his hand went to pinch at them, squeezing and groaning at the feel. He could feel a bit of your hip bone but it was mostly covered in plumpness that made his mouth water. Your hips were good for squeezing and he wanted to take you. Suddenly, realization hit him like a truck.

“I—I don’t have a condom.”

“I’m on the pill,” you said already reaching between your bodies at his hard clock begging for attention, “As long as you’re clean and pull out.” He gave a brief nod of his head capturing your lips with his as you lined his dick up with your heat and did the honor of taking him. You moaned into each others mouth as he stopped at the ring of nerves that needed a bit more stretching. You were tight, he felt all the soft walls of your cunt squeeze his thick member as he sank in with a groan, squishing against you, breasts against his chest.

“Oh God,” you moaned against his lips at the first real thrust of his cock into your wet pussy and his hand was sliding down to grip your ass while the other was on your breasts. He squeezed both in time with a second thrust, still testing the waters before doing it again, quicker and rougher now.

His head rested against your neck, moaning your name softly, “So fucking beautiful, all of you, fuck Y/n.”

“You feel so fucking good,” he growled into your skin leaning down to take a fat tit into his mouth matching each lick of your nipple with a rough thrust. Suddenly he’s lifting himself up, hands leaving your sides to press against the bed on either side of your head. He looked down at your naked body licking his lips, slowly bringing his hips back before slamming into you with force that had your tits jiggling and his lips parted at the sight, doing it again so it could happen once more.

Jungkook lets out a long exhale as you continue to cry out his name making him work his lean hips, thrusting in and out of you with purpose.

“Jungkook,” you moaned, hands holding his sides as he fucks you, tight abdominal muscles flexing along with the veins leading to his dick all the way from his navel. The position only lasted a moment before he was laying his full weight on you again wanting to feel you pressed against him, body shaking along his.

“I’m so close,” you groaned when he gripped your ass, not being gentle in the way he squeezed, shaking it a bit and using it to fuck your pussy back into his cock, “Let me cum.”

“Fuck,” he slams himself into you feeling his entire body shudder but he was holding off, “Cum, fuck, cream my cock right now.”

“Oh God,” he groaned against your skin when you did just that, fingers curling as your release hit moaning beautifully into his ear and his body shook slightly. He was gentle but quick in the way he pulled out of you, your orgasm wavering as your slick leaked out of your folds. His cock was on your pubic bone now, spurts of creamy semen spilling onto you, covering you in his cum. His hand was on your knee for support but it was no use.

He was dead weight on top of you, but you don’t mind—you brush your fingers through his hair, giggling when you feel his soft lips kiss your breast, “You’re amazing.”

You felt his breathing begin to get uneven and you wrapped a leg around him continuing the brush of your fingers, caressing him since he seemed to need it. You held him in your arms as he clung to you. Now, you’ll admit, at this time you’d start getting your clothes again and find your things to leave. Maybe you would’ve already had a scheduled Uber but you weren’t doing any of that—and it wasn’t because he tore your dress in half. “You made me feel so good,” you whispered softly into his ear and it made him hum in appreciation, eyes shut slightly. He never realized how much tension he’d been holding onto without release until now that you held him.

You were naked and sticky, even sweaty, but that didn’t stop you two from snuggling after sex, his gentle lips leaving soft kisses along your neck tiredly as his eyes shut in relaxation. Like that, you both let sleep take over and you were warm in each other’s arms.

The sun shined brightly against your sleeping face. You squeezed your eyes shut some more but it did little to keep the light away. You decided to move, roll over and hide your face in one of your many pillows but as you tried to, you nearly fell. A yelp escaped your lips, face inches away from the floor as two arms caught you by the waist. Jungkook was half asleep but alert as he looked over your tired form. You fell back onto the twin sized bed pressed against Jungkook’s chest staring at your surroundings.

In better light and a clearer head you had a better chance to look around his apartment. It was smaller than you pictured when you were lying underneath him. You just didn’t realize it was this small. You’re not sure if you’ve ever been to a place that looked like this. His bedroom, kitchen and living room all in one space with ripped wallpaper and broken cabinets. Jungkook seemed to stiffen under you when he noticed where your mind was going.

Last night was… how should he put it without sounding so dramatic? He just felt very appreciated and not just his body but also the things he had to say. You paid very close attention to what he felt and it was more than anyone has in a while. Sure, the fighting gets him attention but not for anything good. It was abuse and exploitation. That made him hate himself but what he experienced last night was lively. He wouldn’t mind getting this feeling because of you again except you couldn’t be any more opposite and that’s what had him skeptical.

“You okay?” He asked suddenly, nervous because you have yet to say anything after your abrupt awakening and he’s itching to know what you think. His shabby apartment looked even worse than he imagined. You just gave a single nod and that made him anxious now, sliding a little out from under you trying not to pay attention to the way you were both still naked. He released a quiet sigh, “If you want to go home now, it’s okay, you can tell me.”

It was morning anyway, he’s not sure what he would expect differently. You seemed to snap out of your own thoughts turning as best as you could to lay on your stomach over him. He looked down at you with an expression you could only read as dejected, sullen or tired even. Your chest rests on his chest as you look up at him, “And what if I don’t want to go home yet?”

Jungkook couldn’t hide the look of surprise on his face when you ran your hand over his chest turning to look at him, “How about a shower together?”

You stared at the man in front of you expressionless, or well, you were trying to be. He, on the other hand, was open with you. A knowing smile on his face with brows raised in amusement. He was even leaned back in his chair with his arms crossed over his chest, head tilted to the right just slightly waiting for you to speak.

“You’re starting to creep me out,” You said with a roll of your eyes as you looked over the roof, city life thriving about sixty stories below you. Jin cleared his throat, “I was wondering if you had anything to say to me.”

“About?” You asked as the waitress came back with your food. You were seated across from Jin at some high end restaurant for lunch. It sat on the roof of some luxury hotel and it’s where you two decided to meet between your classes. You had a feeling you knew what this was about but you weren’t about to give in. A day and a half was spent in Jungkook’s presence. You didn’t even go to class the following day, instead you stayed in his apartment and did absolutely nothing.

“You’re a vixen, y’know? You sank your claws into Jungkook and got him, I applaud you,” Jin said making you roll your eyes again. “What are you talking about? You’ve got a crush on him or something?”

“I’m just saying, I’ve been trying to get that guy to let loose but all he does is push every chance away,” Jin told you as he picked at his plate. Your eyes narrowed leaning forward against the table, “How do you two know each other, anyway? He didn’t really say.”

Jin sneered, “Of course he didn’t. He doesn’t like it.”

“Doesn’t like what? No, don’t tell me,” you shook your head. You wanted to know because you were definitely interested. But was it your business? Jin smacked his tongue, “It’s nothing serious.”

“I’m his manager of sorts, but also an investor?” Jin said with a shrug taking a big bite, “He’s a boxer, like in the ring with glo—“

“I obviously know what a boxer is,” you said clearly annoyed with your older friend who just chuckled knowing he was getting under your skin. You were curious now, “Besides, what does it matter to you? You work in a law firm.”

Jin groaned as if he had a reason to be annoyed with you when clearly he didn’t, “I’ve got a few interests, alright? Sketchy? Maybe, but it is exciting. I met him a year ago when I was watching a boxing match. He was new and he was good, a lot of strength and control. I just have this idea that he can make it big and I can get him there. It’ll be a give and take. I already make good money off his fights from my cut and imagine what a bigger audience can do?”

“So what you’re saying is Jungkook… he makes money from boxing?” You asked and he just shook his head no. “No, well kinda? His family has a lot of debt—“

“Stop, stop talking,” you covered your ears suddenly, “I don’t want to hear about his private stuff unless it’s from him. I get it. You kinda work together?”

Jin rolled his eyes, “Yes but that’s not what I wanted to talk about. I want to know what transpired you to go with him the other night. I didn’t peg muscular, tatted, brooding men as your type.”

“I didn’t either,” you said honestly, “But I don’t know. I saw him one time before that at a store and he had been bleeding from his forehead. I think that’s why I was curious at first.”

“And now?” Jin asked making your brows furrow. “What do you mean now?”

He sighed, “I mean are you curious still? Jungkook is a good guy, great guy even but it wouldn’t work Y/n. Your parents would kill you if they found out you were seeing a guy like him. He’s not… he hasn’t had the same privileges as you and it just wouldn’t look good. He’s a great kid but he’s got real struggles that you wouldn’t understand.”

“Hypocrite much?” You asked with a tilt of your head, “Like you would understand those struggles more than me? Are you going to tell him this too or just me because I don’t think Jungkook would appreciate it.”

“Jungkook’s smart, I’m sure he understands why it wouldn’t work. You’ve been to his place I assume, you had some thoughts on it I know. But at the end of the day, I’m loyal to you as a friend more than Jungkook. I’ve known you since you were five and I’m looking out for your best interest.”

“I don’t need you to Jinnie,” you rolled your eyes as you pushed your finished plate away. He let the topic drop with a reluctant sigh. He really did appreciate Jungkook as a person and even as a friend of sort but at the end of the day… what they had never went beyond business. The dinner the other night was to discuss another tournament, what happened after was a spur of the moment. He had respect for Jungkook for what the kid has been through but that’s what makes him wary. He’s seen how mad he can get, how little he actually has to support himself and how battered his life was. You wouldn’t fit in anywhere and Jin cares about you too much to let you fall for someone like him.

“Besides, I’m seeing him later after class,” you said brightly. Jin couldn’t argue with you anymore, he just wanted you to know what he thought. He knew Jungkook was a good guy, he just didn’t think he was right for you. Suddenly you flashed him a bright smile, big puppy dog eyes and a bat of your lashes, “You’re treating me to lunch right?”

“You probably have more money than me Hotel Heiress,” Jin said with a scowl but you didn’t let up. Your bottom lip curling down, “But you invited me.”

“Aish,” he rolled his eyes at you as he took his wallet out, “You’re so annoying.” “Thank you Jinnie, you’re the best.”

He took you back to campus after lunch and you went to your last couple of classes. Taehyung waited for you outside your last class, “Jia and I want to go shopping, you coming?”

“No, Jungkook is waiting for me outside,” you told him reading over Jungkook’s text telling you where he was. Taehyung’s brows furrowed, “Jungkook? The guy from the other night? Don’t tell me you’re seeing him again.”

“Fine I won’t tell you.” “Y/n I’m serious, I don’t know him but the other night something seemed of—Y/n!”

“Bye!” You sang as you saw Jungkook’s black, tinted car. He was outside waiting for you and a smile spread across his face. He pulled you in for a hug, “Aren't you cold?”

“Shivering,” you said with trembling teeth and he helped you into his car ignoring the rise of your skirt. Once he was inside he kicked the heat up, “So where do we go?”

He was nervous. He hasn’t seen you in a couple days and now that it’s the weekend he’s not sure what he should do. Is this a date? Do you even want to date him? You didn’t ask him anything over the time you were at his place but he could tell you wanted to. Would you run away when you found out the extent of his struggles? You bit your bottom lip in thought, humming as you tried to think of something, “Lets go to my place.”

So he followed the directions to the other side of the city where he’d dropped you off just days ago. He only got to look at the outside of the skyscraper hotel with your last name displayed in metal letters under the hotel’s name. The inside was gorgeous, marble everywhere with white clay walls and curved edges that gave the hotel a seamless image. Even the furniture was the color of the walls and the only pop of colors were deep green and shades of brown. He let you drag him into the elevator where you pushed for the top floor putting your key in to unlock the floor and he traveled the hundred stories up.

The second the elevator to your floor opened Jungkook’s breath hitched. He didn’t realize you had the entire floor to yourself until he walked in and saw the various doors to different amenities all just for you ranging from private gym to an entire room larger than his apartment dedicated to shoes and handbags. You walked down the hall to the main living space and he continued to look around. Large kitchen, large windows that looked over the skyline with a pool on the balcony.

“So this is your place?” He asked obviously as you went to your bedroom which, once again, was bigger than his apartment with a king sized bed and canopy. You gave a quick nod of your head disappearing into your closet to change into something warmer, “18th birthday present.”

He was too nervous to even sit on your bed but you came out all joyous jumping on him and tackling him down on it. Immediately, a jolt of pain shot up his side making him wince and you jumped to get off his lap. His hands gripped your waist keeping you in place and your brows furrowed in concern. You reached for his shirt when he held your wrist to stop you but you pulled it up anyway. Jungkook’s face heated when you stared at the faded bruise on his side. It was worse than it was when you two had sex, it was more brown now with yellow around the edges since it was old.

Your finger just barely brushed over it enough that it didn’t hurt but he still flinched at the contact making you frown as you straddle his groin, “You were fighting?”

His eyes widened at first but relaxed when he realized who would’ve told you. Maybe you were closer with Jin than he thought. Lord knows he only sees Jin when it comes to the business they’ve involved themselves with. You, on the other hand, were at Jin’s societal level and probably saw him at galas and fashion shows. So Jin told you about the fighting and you still let him into your home? Without another word you shimmied off his lap and he could feel his heart drop. Maybe you were rethinking things. Maybe you saw that it was a bad idea to get involved with him and now you’re backing out. He wouldn’t blame you after seeing the way you lived compared to him. He expected you to kick him out, not to lean down and press a soft kiss on his ribs, “Did you at least win?”

Jungkook gave a slight nod of his head in response and you smiled moving to lay on the bed now right next to him. You sat your head up on your palm looking over to him, “Do you like boxing?” He shook his head honestly and it made you frown, “So why do it then?”

He was quiet for a moment, “I’m good at it and it’s easy money.” “This is easy money?” you pointed to his bruise but before he could answer you were backtracking, “I mean… I’m just trying to understand but you don’t have to tell me anything if you don’t want to.”

Jungkook couldn’t help but lean forward to press a gentle kiss on your lips before wrapping an arm around your waist pulling you into his side, “Why are you so perfect? Aren’t you a little scared? I’m not a good guy.”

“Why? Because you beat the shit out of people for money? Oh yeah you’re such a thug,” you rolled your eyes, “Besides, I’m not perfect, I’m actually a spoiled bitch.” He laughed along with you snuggling in your bed despite the sun still being out.

“To answer your question from earlier, the only reason why I do this is to help out my parents. They’d kill me if they found out but they’ve got a lot of debt and I want to help them how I can. I dropped out of school my final year and I went straight to work,” Jungkook began to open up, “I didn’t want to leave school but we needed the money so I had to get to work. There weren’t many options where I’m from so I packed up my shit and came here.”

“Wasn’t that hard?” You asked cutely and he could see it in your eyes that even if you didn’t understand, you wanted to. He nodded, “Yeah, I slept on a lot of couches at first. I couldn’t get a good job since I didn’t have a diploma but I started working as a mechanic and was able to get the place I’m at now for cheap if I fix maintenance problems myself.”

“I met this guy who told me he knew how I could make quick money and it was just supposed to be a one time thing but I can’t support myself and my parents with just the car shop.”

“And Jin wants you to be a legitimate boxer? Like one of those lightweight champion fighters?” You asked making him crack a smile as you laid on his chest. He began to play with your hair, “Yeah and I just don’t get it. I’m not going to get far. I don’t how to play by all the rules. I don’t think it’s worth the risk. For now I’m fine working at the auto shop.

“But, you don’t want to see if it actually works out?” You asked curiously, “And would you want to work as a mechanic forever?”

“I’m not thinking about forever, I’m thinking about the present and what gets me by. When I get a chance to live comfortably then I’ll look at the bigger picture but I still don’t think it would be boxing.” He was honest and a little blunt but he didn’t mean to sound that way. He was just being realistic. He knows he’s living paycheck to paycheck and still coming up short but it’s what he needs to do right now. He can’t dedicate himself to a career where he doesn’t get paid frequently unless he trains and devotes all his time.

You didn’t say anything for a moment and it made him wonder if he made you uncomfortable. It’s not that he thinks you had it easy growing up but clearly you’ve grown up with a totally different mindset and endless possibilities. After a while before he could backtrack you spoke, “I see what you’re saying, sorry,” you mumbled and he seemed to squeeze you in his hold. He shook his head no though you couldn’t see him, “Don’t apologize. You were just curious.”

‘So can I go to see you?” You weren’t even done saying what you wanted to say when Jungkook was muttering a few ‘no’s’ making you turn to face him now still laying on him. You went to move back and his arm stayed loose around you but let you move, “Why not?”

“Because it gets really ugly and it’s dangerous. It’s not something I want the girl I’m into to see,” he said mixing in a confession and putting it out there for you to understand what he’s on. He absolutely had no desire to get close to anyone romantically but now that he has, he’s really interested. He finds you attractive but it wasn’t just that. You seemed to listen to him and though you could, you don’t judge him— or at least he didn’t hink you do. You looked at him with an annoyed expression but it was playful, “But I want to see you.”

You didn’t directly say you were into him but you did lean in for a kiss letting his lips meet yours softly. You released a soft moan when his arm tightened back around you turning his body slightly to kiss you better. The two of you pulled apart but his hand was still cupping your face gently and he looked down at you. You opened your mouth to say something but he immediately shut you up with another kiss before pulling away again, “So pl—“ Then another kiss on your lips and you couldn’t help but laugh when he did it again quickly now, “Please let me wa—okay!—“ kiss after kiss on your lips so you wouldn’t keep talking about seeing him fight.

He wouldn’t let you.

Or so he thought. Jungkook held your hand tightly as he led you through the thick crowd watching the fight from before. You looked around anxiously now. It was louder than you imagined, dirtier, rougher. It reeked of alcohol and dirty money. You could feel the stares on you when you walked past and though it made you uncomfortable, you felt a little better with Jungkook there.

He sensed your unease because he pulled you closer until his arm could wrap around your waist, pressing his face against yours to whisper in your ear, “You still okay?”

“Mhm,” you nodded leaning in to give him a quick kiss as he smiled, “Alright, I gotta get ready.”

“Jungkook! My man, you’re late,” a guy with a huge grin on his face approached. You ignored the way he seemed to look at your figure but Jungkook was pulling you closer to his side than before. Jungkook just smiled, “Things came up.”

“I see that,” the guy’s eyes stopped at your legs, then your hips, and chest, “I’m Hoseok by the way.”

“Y/n,” you answered in a snobby tone as you glared back at him. He was way too open with staring you down when Jungkook was there. Jungkook thought the same and it had him pulling you along, “I’ll be out in a bit.”

It was still strange to see you in the locker room with him. The same grimy room he was in last time when he was beaten pretty bad and still came out on top. You tried to hide your disgust but he could see it in the way you avoided touching anything. Jungkook cleared his throat, “I can take you back to the car, if you want.”

“Why would I want to leave?” You asked moving closer to him as he attempted to wrap his fists up by himself. Jin should be here soon to help him with that but until then you’ll just watch him get ready. He looked over to you, in your skirt and sweater making him even more nervous. He asked you to dress down, not because he didn’t love seeing your pretty outfits, but because he didn’t want anyone to get any ideas with you. He’d hate to hop out of the ring so people wouldn’t come at his girlfriend. It still feels weird to say that. Never did he imagine he’d get swept up so quickly and yet here you were, absolutely breathtaking and sweet.

His breath hitched so suddenly, your arms wrapped around his exposed torso in a back hug pressing a kiss to his shoulder plate. He turned his head to look back at you and you took the opportunity to kiss him on the lips.

“Sneaky little snake Y/n.”

You pulled away with a roll of your eyes. Jungkook looked to the swinging doors as Jin walked in. Jin glared at you, “What are you doing here? And why are you dressed like you’re going to a summer Christmas party?”

“I’m covering up,” you said only answering his last question as you let go of Jungkook to give Jin a spin, “Don’t I look pretty?”

“You always do,” Jin said with a shrug as Jungkook’s eyes narrowed in his direction at that comment. He still has to get used to the fact you’re very close with Jin. Tame his jealousy and be less serious all the time. His friend seemed to be thinking the same since he rolled his eyes, “Don’t look at me like that. Why’d you bring Y/n to a place like this?”

“Because I asked,” you said when Jin stepped up to help Jungkook put his gloves on. He scoffed, “And Jungkook is fine just doing whatever you ask?”

When Jungkook didn’t say anything Jin released an annoyed huff of breath as he finished up with the wrappings. Jungkook wasn’t paying attention to anyone but you as he lifted his gloved hands to reach for you. Jin looked between you two muttering something under his breath as he walked out the door giving you two a minute. Jungkook put the gloves on your hips as you moved between his legs looking down at him from where he was sitting on the bench. Your arms rested on his shoulders as he looked up at you with rounded eyes. He leaned forward resting his forehead on your chest, “I’m happy you’re here tonight.”

“Really? I thought you told me no,” you said playfully and he looked up again, still resting on you, squeezing you even closer to him. “But it’s nice to have someone there for me.”

You didn’t know what to say so instead your hands slid up from his shoulders to his face and you leaned down to meet his lips. He kissed back immediately, trying to touch you more but his gloves didn’t let him. It was short and sweet only interrupted when Jin opened the door back up.

He looked to you, “Come on, we’ll find somewhere to be, let Jungkook concentrate before the fight. He’s going up against a new guy first.”

Jungkook gave you a kiss goodbye and you told him good luck and left. You stood with Jin at the closest seats to the ring and he was trying to let you know what might happen tonight.

“So there’s two fights for him. The first will probably be the easiest but if he’s too worn out in the second he might not win. Now, he’s got a winning streak and a lot of people don’t like that so they’ll be fighting dirty tonight,” Jin told you honestly, “A lot of people are mad they’re losing money to him and there’s very few rules here. There’s a couple illegal moves but a lot of it is free game so beware he could get seriously hurt. Hence why I want him to go the professional route but he won’t, his family doesn’t want him fighting. If anyone talks to you don’t even entertain it, alright?”

“Yes dad,” you said, though you were definitely feeling anxious now. Music was loud but yelling was louder. It reeked of sweat, alcohol, blood. It was dirty and crowded and you could feel people looking at you. There were very few females here and they all glared at you too. Jungkook told you to not even bring your purse but you still felt like you needed to keep your possession close.

When Jungkook came out in just a pair of boxing shorts and shoes, mouth guard in looking like a completely different man than the one you kissed just moments ago, you saw him in a new light. Reality was hitting you that he was very much an intimidating man. When he passed you by he didn’t shy away from going to you for a good luck kiss before jumping over rope to get into the ring. When he kissed you it only made more heads turn.

You didn’t pay much attention to what the ref[?] was saying because it was so overwhelmingly loud in here. Practically overstimulating you and suddenly you weren’t so thrilled being here. Jungkook looked scary but so damn attractive, jumping from foot to foot getting his blood pumping as the other guy came in. He was roughly the same size as Jungkook, just less muscle. “You’re in for a show,” a voice spoke as someone plopped down next to you. You looked over to Hoseok who now sat on your left while Jin sat on your right.

“How much?” Jin asked him and they leaned over you to discuss betting amounts. When the bell rang you paid your full attention to the scene before you. Since this wasn’t such a professional fight there were less rounds to go through and the first knockout was a win. Only three rounds and he needed to score high on two to win.

The first round wasn’t a clear win. Jungkook did the first hit making the guy stumble back and you understood why everyone was so energetic. This was nerve wracking and everyone shouting for the one they wanted to win was getting to you. It was during the second round when things began to heat up. This time the other guy did the first hit, a hard fist to Jungkook’s bruised side but he didn’t even flinch. He delivered a harsh blow to the guy’s jaw giving him an uppercut that sent him stumbling against the ropes.

His body slipped to the floor, blood dripping from his mouth and your hands clasped together as the referee counted the seconds for knockout. The guy attempted to get back up but only kept slipping down on the floor. When the whistle blew the round was given to Jungkook. You clapped happily now making him look over to you with a small smile. He was already drenched in sweat, long hair stuck around his face and clearly out of breath. Jin got up with a bottled water and towel taking it to Jungkook as they talked about something you couldn’t here.

“What do you think so far?” Hoseok asked you as the third round started and your eyes locked in on the fight. You have a shy shrug, “It’s… new.”

Hoseok chuckled, “I bet it is, you’re the only one I’ve ever seen wear Cartier here. Better to take it off before someone else sees it.” You nodded but you didn’t take it off in case you’d lose it. Instead you hid it under your sweater now. The third round was quicker, it took one blow for the guy to fall and laughter rose around you.

By the end of the fight, Jin was hurrying you up to the locker room assigned to Jungkook again. Jungkook was already at the sink examining the damage but when he saw you he hid his bruised side. You didn’t even have to say anything when he was reaching for you, “You okay? Is this too much? I’ll have Jin take you to the car, did anyone say anything to you? I’m sorry, this is probably jus—“

You shut him up with a kiss, his body immediately relaxing into it as his head tilted to the side to deepen it with his tongue. Jin audibly gagged behind you, “I miss Jungkook when he was depressed. Now all you two do is eat each other’s faces off. How you feeling Kook?”

“Good, nothing major,” Jungkook cleared his throat awkwardly when Jin passed him an ice bag. The break till the next fight was really short. The guy he would be going up against had already fought his contender when Jungkook arrived. Once they have their fight and marks are tallied they’ll know who wins. If he wins he’ll be able to pay off some of his loans before the loan sharks come knocking on his door again. He’ll send money for his parent’s bills. He’ll pay his car payment, utilities, buy groceries, and take you out on a date. It won’t be as nice as you’re probably used to but hopefully he can do something. He’ll show you that even if he doesn’t have the kind of money you do, he’ll do anything for you to see how strongly he feels.

Having a support system in the audience cheering him on was motivation to win and he promises he’ll win for you. You wanted to watch him fight so he’ll give it his all.

You got back to your seats once the warning for the next fight came. Jin clutched your hand, “You’re holding up better than I thought. You’re usually more high maintenance. You don’t even like going to the gym because it makes you sweat.”

“But sweat looks so good on Jungkook,” you answered looking at Jungkook, “Now shut up. The fights about to start.”

“You think this guy’s got a chance against Seungmin?”

“Nah, he’s not that focused tonight. Probably because his bitch is in the crowd.”

Your brows furrowed at who was talking about you. Jin shook his head when you tried to turn and look, “Just ignore it.”

The first round started heavy. Jungkook’s opponent threw the first blow right in his face. His head whipped back as he was hit in the nose and you visibly winced. Jungkook didn’t feel too much pain from it, probably due to adrenaline, but it made his eyes water and blur for a second giving the guy a chance to hit him in the gut.

The crowd was going crazy around you as Jungkook delivered three hits in but his body collapsed to the floor. The guy had hit the back of Jungkook’s head that had him stumbling down on the floor in pain. You gripped Jin’s arm, “Isn’t that illegal?” He only shook his head, “Not here.”

7…

You waited to see if he’d get up but he couldn’t lift his head. Your leg was bouncing anxiously and before you knew it, the round ended with a knock out. Jin got up immediately going to Jungkook’s aid and he looked worse for wear. The round was given to the other guy and before you could even think you were walking to the rope. Jin was wiping blood off Jungkook’s face grabbing the back of his head checking for blood.

“He’s got a heavy hand,” Jungkook panted out of breath feeling his ears drum. Jin held his head, “Block your fucking head Jungkook. He’s playing extra dirty, he’s going to keep going for it if you’re already injured.”

“Jungkook,” you said softly making him turn, finally noticing you and suddenly he was sitting up on the stool. He sniffled, “Yes baby? Are you okay? I promise I’m fine, if it’s too much don’t look—“

“Fighter’s ready!”

Jin gave Jungkook a kiss on his forehead, “Two rounds. You gotta win this and then you get a pay grade. Alright?” Jin led you back to your seat before you could even talk to Jungkook more but maybe it was for the better.

Jungkook was tired, worn out from the last round and the fight before. His opponent at least had resting time after his fight since Jungkook’s fight was after. Jungkook didn’t get as long of a break before he was thrown into the last fight. He stood in position for the bell to ring but the guy across from him was jittery.

A smirk on his face as he looked over the audience before he snickered, “Brought your toy along? I like her, might just take her from you.”

Jungkook tried to ignore it, jaw tense as he reeled in his anger. The guy was a shit talker, he wanted to get in Jungkook’s head but he won’t let him. He just wants Jungkook to lose focus but he won’t. The second the bell rang Jungkook gave the first hit, getting Seungmin right in the stomach before giving him another hit on the side of his head.

You watched anxiously, Jungkook seemed to have felt better enough to fight back stronger. Hoseok looked over to you, “The kid’s got it, he’ll win.”

You’re not worried about him winning. You’re worried about how hurt he’ll be after and you understand now why Jungkook didn’t want you here. He was strong, he could fight and hold his own but watching him get beat black and blue was heartbreaking. But you couldn’t look away. You were at the edge of your seat, there was blood dripping down Jungkook’s eyes painting it red but he kept fighting, he stayed on his feet even when he was backed into a corner. He blocked his head with gloves and when Seungmin least expected it he punched his nose then jaw. The opponent’s body whipped with the force of the hit and though he tried grabbing rope, he crashed to the floor.

Jungkook was jumping from foot to foot keeping himself moving as the ref counted down to knockout and he released a breath. He sat on the stool in the corner of the ring tipping his head back staring up at the hanging lightbulb over them. They’re tie. This last round will declare the winner of this fight and it has to be him. He can get a few hundred and though most will go to bills he swears he’s going to try and take you out.

Jin was in front of him again, this time he pressed an Enswell to the cut above his brow, “Last round, it’s yours man, I can feel it. You’re faster, you’ve got more coordination. How’s your eye?”

“Hurts like a bitch,” Jungkook confessed through his mouth guard. He turned to look for you but stopped, wincing when Jin wiped the blood away. The cold metal against his skin was numbing the pain but he could still feel his eye swelling, “How’s Y/n?”

“Fine, focus on your opponent not your girlfriend,” Jin said harshly but he only meant it out of concern. He wanted Jungkook to be focused so he wouldn’t get so roughed up in the last round.

Now it was the last round. He shifted his mouth guard to fit better as he stared at Seungmin. He watched his head turn to look at you, eyes wandering up the expanse of your legs to your skirt. His words were mumbled due to the guard but he could understand him clearly, “Yeah, I’ll take her as my prize. She’ll look good as my bitch, bet she’s got a fat ass t—“

Jungkook shoved him, the crowd growing louder as the ref blew the whistle, pulling them apart. The guy only laughed glaring at Jungkook, “Look real nice with her legs spread just for me. She tight?”

The whistle blew.

The first throw Jungkook took didn’t land, it was too blinded by rage that Seungmin touched him first backing him up into the corner again with his larger build, “Bet she likes to fuck dirty with that body.”

Jungkook struggled, moving too quick to cause real damage and block his eye at the same time. Seungmin kept going, “You think she’ll put up a bigger fight than you? I like the figh—“

His breath was knocked out of his body when Jungkook threw a direct punch to his diaphragm making him stumble back. As he clutched his chest Jungkook took the opportunity to hit where his kidney should be, bringing the guy down to his knees in pain.

You were on your feet with everyone else cheering Jungkook on unbeknownst to what was being said about you. Though Seungmin was down, anytime he tried to get up Jungkook would stop him. With an uppercut, Jungkook punched right at Seungmin’s ear sending a ring down his ear drums and he fell to his side.

But Jungkook didn’t stop. The gloves made it hard for him to really get his hands on him but he wasn’t done. He didn’t even care about the round. He cared about beating the fuck out of this piece of shit for talking about you, so he did. He got over the guy, straddling his curled position as Seungmin blocked his own head from being hit. There were no rules outside of no weapons, and no weighted gloves so he wasn’t stopping until he was dragged off of him.

“Jungkook!” Jin called out when Jungkook brought a fist back and hit over the man’s hands getting as much of his head as he could. He raised another arm to do it again as the whistle blew.

He delivered another blow feeling the bounce of the mat, the ref saying he won since it was a knockout but he wasn’t done.

Just as he was ready to give him another hit he was being yanked off but he wanted more. He wanted the guy bloody and bruised for the way he talked about you. He lurched forward to do it but strong arms held him back, two people telling him to stop. The ref raised Jungkook, “The winner! There, you’re done with the fighting!”

He had to be dragged out of the ring by Hoseok and Jin. He could barely see out of his eye and the crowd half cheered half booed, “Where’s Y/n?”

He was feeling dizzy, drained and tired. Jin sat him down on the bench and you went to get ice. You wanted to cry though you had no reason to. He just looked so scary out there but also, he was clearly beat. You had to collect yourself instead of let your emotions show. You’re the one who begged him to let you see him fight. You passed the bag to Jin feeling like you needed to catch your breath. Jin let you sit next to Jungkook who seemed too far into his own world to pay attention.

He was hot, his body was on fire and he was breathing heavy, leg bouncing as he thought back to what Seungmin had been saying. The fucking disrespect. Even if you weren’t his girlfriend, how could Seungmin say things like that and expect Jungkook to not react? He wanted to fight him again, it was all he could think about.

“Take the keys,” Jin told you and you did. Hoseok came in shortly after, “I’ve got the cut. Seungmin’s mad, cussing at everyone saying it’s cheating.”

“Says who?” Jin scoffed making Hoseok shrug, “No one. Jungkook won, everyone could see Seungmin was instigating and now he’s mad he got his ass handed to him.”

He chuckled as Jin took Jungkook’s gloves off and the mouth guard fell to the floor. Jungkook grabbed a t-shirt ignoring his wounds as he stood suddenly. He grabbed his things and like confused idiots you all rushed after him.

The place was still bustling with drunk energy and Seungmin’s voice was heard over it all.

“Take him out the ring and I’ll fucking beat him.”

You stayed a little behind as Jin tried grabbing at Jungkook but he just pushed him off.

“I call rematch and I’ll take the money and his bitc—“

Okay, well now you knew what he had been telling Jungkook. Jungkook turned Seungmin around but before the guy could react, a hard fist was colliding with his nose. Screams erupted, some urging the fight, some calling security. This entire time Jungkook had been silent with only a deadly look in his eyes. You gasped loudly when the guy threw Jungkook off trying to get on top of him but Jungkook wasn’t letting him. His fists weren’t stopping and they were covered in blood now.

“Jungkook!” You didn’t know what else to do. You couldn’t just go in and stop the fight like an idiot but you didn’t want Jungkook to do something he’ll regret. Jin seemed to be thinking the same because he did try and get Jungkook off only to be shoved aside.

Suddenly, security was there, picking Jungkook up with an arm around his neck locking him in. He fought against the hold once Seungmin was sitting up spitting out blood but Hoseok cut in. You didn’t know he was the one in charge of it all but it made sense now.

“Enough!” He yelled out, “If you’re not inside that ring you’re not fucking fighting or your asses are done!”

You walked to Jungkook practically feeling the heat radiating off him but you tried being gentle as he fought against the security still, “Hey, Jungkook.”

He couldn’t even look at you, eyes set on the guy and before he could stop himself he was lunging for him again catching security off guard and accidentally releasing him. Seungmin fell into a group of people when Jungkook did it again. You covered your eyes blocking out the yelling as they tried getting him off.

This time security wasn’t so nice, picking Jungkook up and throwing him on the ground making him gasp for air from his injuries. You immediately went to him, “Stop, please, can you please just stop.”

You didn’t notice you were crying as Jin helped Jungkook up and silently dragged him out. Jungkook was mad even as you made it outside.

“I fucking told you not to come!” Jungkook yelled, “I told you Y/n.”

“I know, I’m sorry,” you apologized, making Jin shove Jungkook into the passenger seat. “Stop acting fucking crazy or I’m leaving your ass here and taking Y/n home.”

You had the keys with you, hurrying to start the car so the two of you could leave but Jin was at Jungkook’s window. You rolled it down for him and the look on Jin’s face was saddened.

“Hoseok took half the cut for fighting outside the ring.”

“What?” Jungkook asked sitting up in his seat. Jin just nodded, “Took it, man I told you not to act out.”

Jungkook took the amount that was in Jin’s hands counting it up before cursing. It wasn’t nearly enough, not for everything. It wasn’t even enough to pay his family’s bills. When Jin pulled back you took the opportunity to drive but you didn’t take him to his place.

You were struggling when you pulled into the parking spot in the hotel parking garage and dragged him out. The garage was connected to the side of the hotel so you took him in the elevator as far as you could go and went up. As long as you avoided the lobby nobody would no how badly your boyfriend was beat.

He was silent now, all the pain finally hitting him at once and he felt hopeless. All that was for nothing. He won but at what cost? He let his emotions get the best of him and he yelled at you. Fuck, why did he do that? He couldn’t even apologize, it’s like his mouth had been sewn shut and look at this. You’re having to drag him yourself because he can’t walk himself. How pathetic.

When you got to a floor you found a cleaner and called to her as you got onto the right elevator hiding Jungkook against the wall, “Take a first aid kit to my room.” Everyone knew who you were and you couldn’t risk Jungkook being seen and your father being notified. The woman just nodded, running off already and you went to your floor. Jungkook didn’t say anything about coming to your place instead of his. He would’ve if he wasn’t trying to faint.

It didn’t take long for the first aid kit to get to your place and he followed you in.

He didn’t feel too awful but he was embarrassed. He didn’t even want you looking at him. His eye is practically swollen shut but thankfully it wasn’t the side with the piercing on it. He could still feel some blood on it but he had to force himself to ignore it as he followed you to your bathroom. You were bent over running the water in your overly large bath tub. You directed him to sit on the marble side of it and he did as told. You reached out to pull his shirt up but he stopped you.

“I can do it,” he mumbled looking down, “I’m fine.” You tried getting him to look and he wouldn’t but when you lifted his head he turned away making you frown, “You sure?”

“I don’t want you seeing me like this,” his voice was raspy, “Fuck I’m sorry baby, I’m so sorry for yelling at you earlier.”

“It’s okay,” you said, holding his face gently, “But look at me, please.” It took him a second but when he did you released a sigh. You had a warm wet cloth as you began cleaning his eye area, “I’m here.”

He looked at you close to tears. “You don’t have to do everything alone. I want to take care of you too,” you said, making him sniffle. He shook his head, “I always do it alone, it's okay.”

“It’s not,” you said once he was finally undressed. You checked the water and poured some bath salts in and urged him to get in. He was naked in front of you but you couldn’t look at him, he didn’t want you to see all the pain he went through even if he says it’s not that bad. You sat on the edge of the tub waiting for him to get in and he did so shyly. As he sank into the warm water he looked back at you, “I shouldn’t have yelled at you in the car. I’m sorry you had to see me like that, okay? If you don’t want to be with me because of it I wo—“

“You won’t what? Stop me?” You asked cupping water in your hands and letting it run over his body, “So if I tell you right now that I don’t want you, you’ll just leave without a fight? You must not like me that much.”

“I love you,” he blurted out, happy that he was facing the wall instead of you but he would rather have you in here with him, “That’s why I wouldn’t stop you from leaving me. I’m not good enough for you.”

“Says who?”

“Y/n be serious, please,” Jungkook released a sigh turning to look at you. Now that he’s more cleaned up his wounds don’t look so bad but his eye was still swollen and his knuckles were bloody, “Look at me. Look at what I did tonight and where I live an—“

“I am looking,” you told him with your hands in his hair wetting it, “And tonight made me realize that I’m in love with you. I don’t care about where you live, I don’t care about any of that.”

“But I do,” he said when you started tugging your skirt and sweater off. Yes, he wanted you in his arms in this tub big enough to fit four people, but he didn’t want to just think about himself. He wanted you to know that he understands how different you two are and if tonight scared you, he understands why. He was a monster.

“Why?” You asked, sinking in across from him, “Why do you care about that stuff if I don’t?”

“Because it’s not enough for you. I want to give you so much of myself. I want to treat you the way you deserve to be treated and I can’t,” Jungkook said honestly, voice cracking here and there, “I’m not good enough, I fight to make money and look what happens. I can’t control myself, I yelled at you for no fucking reason and I hate myself so much.”

“Because you yelled at me or because you don’t think you’re enough?” You asked cautiously, making him shake his head no but he didn’t even know what he wanted to say. Yeah, he strongly disliked himself. He worked his ass off and it was never enough. He never had enough money, enough food, enough restraint, stability, or love.

You were careful when you leaned forward placing a soft kiss to his jaw, “I know you didn’t mean to snap. I know your buttons were pushed. I know you were stressed out and I don’t blame you at all. If I did I wouldn’t have you here with me. I don’t know how much more direct I have to be for you to see that I care about you so fucking much.”

“I don’t care about money, or yelling or any of that shit, I care about you and how you make me feel so safe because I know my strong boyfriend will beat the shit out of anyone who talks about me,” you said making your tone lighter at the end and he almost cracked a smile. He would never let anyone treat you any sort of way. That’s true.

His sore hands were holding your waist now underwater trying to pull you onto his lap. Though he’s been hit a few times in the gut, the place he was most hit was his face. His lip was pulled between his teeth, “My fighting scared you.”

“No, it didn’t,” you confessed, “What scared me is knowing that guy could do pretty much anything to you and it wouldn’t be breaking the rules.”

“I know,” he said, agreeing with you. It was getting extremely dangerous. If he gets hit in the head any more times he’ll get punch drunk before he’s 26. It’s not the fighting that’s the problem it’s where he’s doing it that is, “But as embarrassing as it is to confess to you, I need the money.”

“I understand baby, I’m not saying anything about that,” you told him honestly, running your fingers through his hair, “But it doesn’t have to be this way.”

“What are you saying?”

“I’m saying I agree with Jin,” you told him making his brows furrow as much as they could. “If fighting is what you’re good at and you want to fight then go ahead. It shouldn’t matter what anyone thinks unless they’re here caring for you instead of putting more stress on your shoulders. I know your family doesn’t like you fighting and honestly, after tonight, I didn’t like seeing that but it’s not because I don’t support you.”

“It’s because I do, that I want you to have better opportunities in a safer, more regulated environment and not some dingy ass fight club,” you told him with a kiss to his shoulder blade, “So I think you should think about going professional. Jin and I have good connections everywhere and with the right training you can get really far. But if you really don’t want to then I won’t ask anymore.”

“You think I can do it? How am I gonna have time to train when I’ve got to make money,” Jungkook asked, suddenly thinking about it. You were a lot more convincing than Jin but maybe it’s because you’re so loving—and naked in his arms.

“I’ll help you with mon—“ “No,” and he was unconvinced, “I’m not taking handouts. I’m sorry baby but not from you. You’re my girlfriend, you’re not supposed to have to let me borrow money. I want to be able to take you out and spoil you and I can’t if—“

“It’s not a hand out, it’s your girlfriend wanting to do things for you because she really loves you and wants you to be at a point in your life when you’re not stressing over every little thing,” you told him. He shook his head, still unconvinced. He can’t. He can’t. He loves you too much to put his worries on your shoulders. You pressed a kiss to his collarbone, “Besides I’m not saying you won’t be able to do it on your own, I know you can.”

“What I’m saying is that you don’t have to do it alone, and if it’s not money that you want help with that’s fine but don’t shut me out because you’re scared of relying on someone else. You’re too used to being the one dealing with your problems and everyone else’s. I want to be the one you have in your corner.”

“So I should go pro?” You nodded making his eyes dart around in thought, “I’ll still be fighting but I know now it’s because I like it.”

“Yes but you’ll be doing it as safe as can be, I don’t want you to go into a fight like this again and the guy do anything he can to get you down,” you told him and he looked up at you.

“Okay.”

“Okay?”

“I am… I am asking for your help,” he struggled to get the words out but he did, “Because I don’t want to keep living the way I am, barely surviving and having to do dangerous things to get by. The reason why I never considered it is because I wouldn’t have the time or the money or even the support but I have you now.”

“You do,” you smiled, “And even if it doesn’t work—it will—but if it doesn’t, I’m still going to be here supporting everything you do.”

“I love you,” he blurted out looking in your eyes, “So fucking much and I’ve never felt like this for anyone else. I’m just sorry you have to see me like this.”

“Shhh,” you pressed your lips to his, “I love you too.”

You gave him a chaste kiss, “But we need you training on defense asap.” His brows furrowed as you continued, “I’m serious, you’re a good fighter but when it comes to blocking hits you suck.”

The two of you laughed lightly at that. It was true. He was a street fighter only using his fists to fight but when it comes to defending himself he’s not so quick. Hence why his face is usually the most damaged. His fingers sunk into your sides, “You gonna be my new trainer, baby?”

“Maybe, I know my way around a fight.” “Mmm, you’re gonna have to show me some moves but not in the ring.”

Your eyes rolled playfully, “Not tonight, you’re probably tired after your rounds.”

“I could still go for another round or two.”

“Are we still talking about fighting?”

::.

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a/n oooo not a boxer jk. still debating how I feel about the fic but it was fun to write

no part two but I will accept requests for drabbles of the fic

also, my blog now has a tipping option to support my writing :) I obv am not expecting any sort of payment but just added it

#kpop #jeon jungkook #jungkook smut #jungkook au #jungkook angst #kim taehyung #bts #jung hoseok #kim namjoon #kim seokjin #min yoongi #park jimin #bts smut

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p1nkprincess444 · 2 months

Text

⊹₊⋆☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆ ᴡᴀs ɪᴛ ᴊᴜsᴛ ᴀ ᴅʀᴇᴀᴍ? - ʜᴀɴɴɪʙᴀʟ ʟᴇᴄᴛᴇʀ ⋆⁺₊⋆☁︎⋆₊ ⊹

pregnant female!reader x hannibal lecter

word count: 1,554

contents: angst, mentions of dissection and blood, mentions of pregnancy, mentions of alcohol, gaslighting

You thought nothing could get worse during your pregnancy. Your morning sickness was torture in the beginning, and then followed by your insatiable hunger, but now it was smells. You had never noticed this sickening stench before this moment but now it had taken over your whole house. You sat up in your bed looking over at the empty space where your husband was sleeping earlier that night. You slowly swung your legs over the side of the bed, your bare feet pressing down onto the cold hard wood as you stood. You slowly walked out of your bedroom and down the staircase, you followed the horrible stench that was keeping you up. You followed the smell through the entryway then through the dining room and kitchen. You began to open the wine cellar door when a hand slammed against the wood keeping the door shut. You looked up meeting your husband's cold gaze.

“ There is nothing you need to see down there love. ” Hannibal gently pulled you from the door, his hands resting on your hips as he guided you back up the staircase. “ What are you doing up my love, you should be resting. No sleep isn’t good for the baby. ”

“ It’s that smell Hannibal- it’s horrendous. ”

Hannibal only nodded in response as he lifted your legs back onto the bed before tucking you in.

“ I’ll take care of it, as long as you get some rest. ”

You nodded before Hannibal pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead and departed from the bedroom. You tried desperately to fall back asleep but the smell was nauseating. You crept back out of the bedroom and down the stairs before you found yourself right back at the cellar door, only this time there was a soft light peeking out from under the door. You slowly turned the knob expecting to be greeted by your husband shutting the door on you once more, but that didn’t happen. You slowly walked down the small wooden staircase being met with only the drinks that resided within the cellar. You tip-toed around the cellar confused as you tried the source of the smell, you were just about to leave when you knocked over a small vase of wine that was set out to breathe. You managed to catch the glass before it hit the floor, setting it back in its rightful place on top of the counter. You picked up a towel to clean up the spill until you noticed the wine wasn’t a still puddle, it was slowly moving before disappearing into a small crack in the floor. Confusion struck you as you attempted to open the latch, you slowly opened it and the smell hit you like a bus. You wondered why Hannibal had never told you that there was a basement. Several questions ran through your mind as you walked down the steps. The stench was insufferable as you reached the bottom of the steps. The sight you were greeted with was horrifying, it sent chills running up your spine as your eyes landed on your husband holding a knife while standing over a corpse.

“ Hannibal..? ” My voice was shaking revealing my underlying emotions that were bubbling to the surface.

His eyes slowly met yours in the mirror that covered the entirety of the basement wall. His hands were covered in blood as he set down the knife before turning to face you. A scream of pure horror left your lips as your eyes locked on the sight of the man's organs strewn about the table.

Hannibal’s pace was slow and unthreatening as he approached you while wiping his bloodied hands on his apron. “ My love, I will not hurt you, but I need you to stay calm. Stress isn’t good for the baby. ”

Your breathing was becoming laboured as you stared up at Hannibal with panic filled eyes. You backed away from him as tears clouded your vision before you fainted. Hannibal’s reaction was quick as he lunged forward catching you before you could hit the cement steps that led up back to the wine cellar.

You woke up in the comforts of your bed gasping for air as you sat up abruptly. Hannibal immediately sat up to comfort you, pulling you close to him as he stroked your hair while he murmured comforting words against your head. Once you had settled down you realized the stench that had been haunting you before was now completely gone. Your husband was now in his pajamas and you began to convince yourself it was all just a dream.

You both were now in the kitchen where Hannibal began preparing you breakfast.

“ But- it was so real! I saw the man and- and he was dead, ” I was growing frustrated as Hannibal told me it was only a dream.

“ Love, nightmares can be vivid like that, however I assure you there is no basement to this house. The stress you are putting on yourself over such a futile matter is not worth it. ” His words were stern as he looked into your eyes.

“ But what about the smell- ”

Hannibal quickly cuts you off by setting a plate full of scrambled eggs, “bacon” and jellied toast in front of you. “ Please my love, it was only a nightmare, don't let it weigh so heavy on your mind. "

He pressed a gentle kiss to your temple before making coffee for himself. You ate your breakfast in silence as Hannibal stood across from where you sat, sipping his black coffee while you ate your breakfast.

You saw him off to work before straightening out his patterned tie. Hannibal’s arms rested possessively on your hips before he pulled you close for a kiss, your stomach separating you from being too close.

Hannibal’s hands moved to gently cup your face as his forehead rested against yours,“ stay off your feet and leave the pesky cellar alone. ”

“ I promise. ”

You desperately tried to keep your promise to Hannibal, busying yourself with any task you could come up with, but by the time noon rolled around you had already washed all the dishes, swept the floors, polished the windows, and washed all the laundry. You found yourself standing in front of the cellar door but as you went to open turn the knob you realized it was locked. You found yourself searching for the key but you couldn’t find it anywhere in the house. You took it as a sign you should leave it be, but something kept eating away at you. So now you found yourself back in front of the door with a bobby pin as you picked the lock. With a satisfying click the door as you turned the knob the door opened. On one hand you felt horrible for not trusting your husband and the future father of your child, but on the other you thought it wouldn’t matter if he had nothing to hide. You slowly crept down into the cellar looking around for a moment before you began looking for the hatch where it was in your “ dream ”. Without fail the hatch was in the same place and now you began to question if you were dreaming once more as you walked down those cold concrete steps. It was just how you had seen it in your dream but there was no man on the table, and as you went to approach it everything went black.

You woke up on the couch in a daze, the back of your head throbbing in pain. You sat up gently rubbing the area as you tried to collect your thoughts, soon after you woke Hannibal came in with tea for you.

“ When- When did you get home? ”

“ Only half an hour ago, when I came in you were nowhere to be seen. I soon realized with your curiosity you’d be exploring where you shouldn’t be, and when I found you were unconscious on the steps. ”

“ I- I must’ve fallen- ”

“ That is precisely why I thought it was best not to tell you about the basement, but obviously I misjudged. Did you find what you were looking for? ”

“ It- it just seemed so real in my dream.. I’m sorry darling. ”

He shook his head gently before placing a gentle kiss to your lips to your lips. However Hannibal knew what secrets laid within those four walls beneath you. He knew of your curiosity when he married you. He was sure you wouldn’t be able to contain yourself as you sent him off to work, so after you saw him off he knew he was living on borrowed time as he sat with patients. Cutting it close with his last session he headed home, quietly creeping in the door. When you didn’t greet him at the doorway he knew exactly where to find you. He slid off his shoes and set down his briefcase before slipping down the stairs with a wine bottle in hand. He lifted it above his head and quickly brought it down onto yours, Hannibal’s arm quickly reached out wrapping around you to catch you before you could fall. He carried you back up the stairs before closing off the room and laying you on the couch, and when you woke he knew exactly what part he had to play.

#hannibal nbc #hannibal lecter #hannibal #hannigram #hanniblogging #hanniblr #silence of the lambs #nbc hannibal #pregnancy #alcohol #murder husbands #fluff #angst #gaslight gatekeep girlboss #girl boss gaslight gatekeep #tw gaslighting #gaslighting kink #pregnant #hannibal lecter x reader

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melancholymetropolis · 1 year

Text

The Summoning

plot: Reader is freshly separated from her shitty ex and buys a new house in the middle of nowhere.

pairings: TraditionalVampire!Miguel O'Hara x Reader

genre(s): Soulmate AU; Forced Proximity; Hurt with Comfort

warnings: unedited. mentions of DV and abuse. LARGE AGE GAP (Miguel is almost 300 years old). creepy basement. reader is very reserved, but not really shy. miguel falls first and HARD. mind reading. declarations of love every five minutes. miguel is an absolute simp for this woman. PIV SEX. BLOOD DRINKING. pet names (darling, sweetheart, mi amor, etc.) praising. multiple positions. rounds and rounds.

a/n: there is over 4k words of smut in this. you're welcome.

w.c: 7.5k

Something had drawn me to the basement. The broker told me that it was completely bare and covered in cement. There was nothing to see or storage yet— since I just officially moved in last week. But my body kept pulling through the Victorian manor anyway. I descended the grand staircase, into the kitchen, and right to the back door. The basement had been directly adjacent to it. A tingling sensation coursed through me as I turned the doorknob and inched down the stairs. My nerves were buzzing and my head was going fuzzy. I could almost hear a voice crawling through my mind. It scoured the vast plane before meeting my subconscious. Despite the intrusive nature of the presence, I was not threatened by it. For some reason, my body did the exact opposite: I welcomed it. As I walked through the pitch-black basement, I allowed the foreign spirit to enter my mind.

Come to me, gentle creature.

In the far edge of the dark abyss, a candle flickered on. It was followed by another and another. One by one candles started to light throughout the room. Warm light started to gradually fill the space around me. They formed a perfect ring around me. My eyes drifted to the ground and widened at the sight. Words scribbled in yellow chalk were written underneath my feet. I captured words like “sanguis”, “potator”, “monstrum”, and “daemonium”. It was times like this that I wished I took Latin more seriously in High School. I would be able to beautifully translate the foreign tongue below me. I narrowed my eyes and continued to search the scribbles on the floor. There had to be something I recognized, some word in English that didn’t stray far from its Latin roots.

Suddenly, another candle flickered to life; following the same pattern as earlier. But, instead of following a circle pattern, it created a path to the other side of the room. The low light exposed more Latin words written in chalk on the floor. The loopy handwriting was almost decorative with how it graced the floor. Some sentences seemed never-ending. They covered the floors entirely; my eyes didn’t know where to look. I scanned the scattered lettering frantically, trying to piece together anything that could tell me what the hell was going on.

About thirty feet away from me, the thick path of candles split into two. It started to form another shape— it was a rectangle. Just outside the shape, my eyes picked up a word written in bright red. I didn’t need translation to understand what it meant, as its meaning was universal.

VAMPYRUS

The entire basement was encased in the warm light of hundreds of candles. The entire room was covered in Latin scribbling and horrific drawings. There were images of a massive figure with great fangs. He was drawn with bright red eyes and a disgusting scowl. His nails had been massive and strong. There had been claw marks embedded into the cement walls. Dried spatters of blood dripped near them. I could feel my heart begin to pound in my chest as my breathing increased. Panic coursed through me as I took several shaky steps backward. Then it finally hit me. The rectangular shape was not a decorative choice. The candles had been surrounding something I almost didn’t recognize: a casket.

Don’t be afraid, tender beauty. I am no harm to you.

Before I could even acknowledge the voice ringing in my mind, the lid of the casket started to slide open. Inch by inch it moved from the inside as subtle movement sounded from within the space. My mind was racing, desperately trying to piece together how I could get out of the situation. From the copious amounts of pop culture that I had consumed, I knew that vampires were vulnerable to silver of any kind and fire. Yet, the only silver thing I had to my name was a crucifix my grandmother gave me for my 15th birthday. There had been no signs of any wood near me, meaning I couldn’t make a stake even if I knew how. The candle’s fire was too weak to create any damage and to form a lasting flame.

I was simply stuck.

The casket’s lid fell to the ground with a loud thud. A massive body began to rise from within the space. A broad chest was covered in a pristine white dress shirt, which seemed to glow in the low light. That was the only thing I caught a glimpse of before the vampire’s body came racing toward me. I didn’t even have time to scream. His hands were on my body before I could blink. They gripped my waist tightly, before pulling me into a tight embrace. My head rested comfortably at the top of his abdomen, while my arms lay limp at my sides. The vampire had been at least a foot taller than me and I was no small girl. I was roughly 5ft10, definitely taller than the average woman in town. The creature’s size and gentleness had been a peculiar combination. It was something I wasn’t expecting.

“So. . . you’re not gonna kill me?” I asked awkwardly.

“Of course not,” he stated, pulling away from the embrace a bit. His deep brown eyes glimmered in the low light. “I believe I told you I wouldn’t, mi amor.”

His voice was smooth and thick. There was a hint of an accent there as well. On any other occasion, I would've found the man insanely attractive. He had strong features: deep-set brown eyes, a strong straight nose, and prominent cheekbones. The vampire’s thick black curls were combed back, highlighting his perfectly shaped eyebrows. His warm skin tone laid the pale-skinned vampire myth out to dry. The monster before looked graciously kissed by the sun as did I. In this low light, it seemed like we have the same complexion. That little fact gave me some kind of solace.

I would much rather be in a ring of candles with a BIPOC vampire, than a grumpy white one.

I slipped out of the arms of the swooning vampire and created some space between our trembling bodies. "Can we. . . uh. . . talk?"

"Yes, I would love that," he replied with a firm nob.

On the outside, his emotions seemed completely unreadable. He looked every bit like a big, scary vampire from the past. However, something within me told me otherwise. The familiar fuzzy feeling from before was coursing through me. Waves of curiosity, adoration and. . . relief washed over me. Everything within me told me that he was waiting for this very moment for a long time. That the vampire had waited a significant time to meet and embrace me. He wanted nothing more than to be in close proximity to me for an eternity.

"Could we maybe not have this conversation in a creepy, witchy basement?" I suggested, hesitantly.

"Anything for you."

Before I could utter another word, the massive vamp placed one arm underneath my knees and another against my shoulder blades. In one fell swoop, he lifted me off the ground and started walking to the stairs.

"Wait! The candles—"

Just as they lit themselves up, they sizzled out.

The vampire took careful steps out of the basement. He held me firmly against his body as he slowly climbed up the stairs and walked through the corridor. His eyes drifted along the walls, taking in the home's decor. He nodded at the forest-green walls and mused at the gold accents. Upon entering the living room, the vampire’s eyes flickered to the window. He took in the full moon in the sky, allowing the milky light to coat his skin.

After about thirty seconds, the vampire remembered where he was and placed me on a nearby couch. He took a seat in the spot next to me and remained silent. Almost like he was waiting for further instruction.

I nervously turned away from his fiery gaze and cleared my throat. The tension between us had already been so intense and we just met. It was so hard to focus when something so attractive was close to me.

Breathe, little dove. There's no need to rush anything. We have an eternity together.

"That! How do you do that?" I blurted. "How can I hear your voice in my mind?"

"Because we are fated to be together," he replied simply.

"You're gonna have to give me more than that, vamps," I chided, crossing my arms over my chest. "Let's start with your name. Who are you? Why were you in my basement?"

"My name is Miguel O'Hara," he started. "I was born in 1723 in Mexico. My mother was Mexican and my father was Irish— their love was the purest thing I had ever seen. It wasn’t forbidden, but interracial relationships weren't exactly common. My Mexican side didn't necessarily appreciate my mother dating someone that wasn't her heritage, so they pushed me out of the village when I was ten years old." He sighed and shook his head at the statement. Almost as if he was still in disbelief by it. "We lived in the woods for about five years peacefully, until fever struck. It had taken both of my parents in a matter of weeks. Leaving teenage me to fend for myself after that."

Although I wasn't expecting to give his entire life story, I wasn’t mad at it. It gave some humanity to the hulking man next to me.

"I met a witch not too long after that. She invited me into her home, fed me, and gave me a change of clothes," Miguel continued. "She was the first kind person I met in a long time and I decided to stick beside her. We grew close and I told her everything. About my parent's relationship, how their families rejected me, and how utterly lonely I felt when they died. I told her how I, one day, wanted to share that same love with someone. How I wanted to devote my life to that person. How I wanted to live forever with them."

"You were cursed, weren't you?"

"At the time, it was meant to be a blessing. Something to give me hope. Something to make me want to continue living, because I was tired," he confessed.

"Oh, no. . . I'm sorry."

"It's fine."

But the look on his face told me that it still bothered him.

We stood in silence for a few moments, just letting the information settle in the room. I couldn’t stop glancing at his saddened face every so often. There was something deep within me yearning to comfort him. I wanted to embrace his huge body and place his head against my chest. I'd say sweet nothings, while I played in his hair. I wanted him to hear the steady beat of my heart, in hopes that it would soothe him.

It would, gentle creature. Just one touch and all the pain would drift away from my body.

My eyes widened at the statement as a fate blush dusted my cheeks. "Woo. . . lord give me strength," I swallowed hard. "You know how to make a girl feel special."

"That's because you are," Miguel replied, gripping both my hands. "I waited over a century to be graced with your presence and I could already tell it was worth the wait. Everything about you is just so intoxicating, from those big brown eyes to that wondrous mind. You are everything I ever wanted and more."

My heartbeat started to increase once more, but it wasn’t out of fear. It was lust. To hear such tender words from a man like him had made my heart glow and my womanhood heat. He was praising me for simply existing and that was enough for him. He didn't expect me to be anyone else or to change. From what I could tell, he liked me just the way I was.

Unlike Richard, my soon-to-be ex-husband.

The ill thought made a sour look flutter onto my face. I shoved the faulty memories back into the box that they sprang out of and sighed. I wasn’t to think about the divorce, let alone talk about it.

"So, given the information you have provided, you are about 300 years old," I concluded.

"That is correct."

"And it would be safe to assume that this used to be your house?"

"Yup."

"And you've been in the basement the entire time?"

"Mhm."

"And the real estate agent knew?"

"Not exactly," he countered. "The section of the basement we were in was sealed off for at least a century. I had started to lose faith in your arrival and decided to rest until I was graced with your presence. The witch had told me that I would instinctively know it was you. There would be some kind of force pushing us both together. And she was right. I mean why else would you buy a house in the middle of nowhere."

I turned away from him, desperately trying to limit the thoughts of my past from flaring right back up. I simply wasn't ready to share that part with him yet.

A yawn, suddenly, ripped through me and took over my being. I looked down at my wristwatch and realized that it was well into two o'clock in the morning.

"How about we call it a night?" Miguel suggested. "You seem exhausted and we could always continue this tomorrow."

"Alright," I said, slowly rising to my feet. "Well, good night then."

"Good night, sweetheart."

Miguel O'Hara was a traditional vampire in every sense of the word. He was allergic to silver and all things holy. Meaning, that little crucifix my grandmother gave me had to stay in the jewelry box from that point forward. He was also deathly sensitive to sunlight and remained asleep for the majority of the day. He didn't necessarily prefer to sleep in the coffin, but he continued out of respect for me.

Finally, he drank blood and from the dried splatters along the wall, lots of it. I didn’t know where he got it or who he got it from, but I refused to ask. Some things were better left unsaid.

After a few more encounters with the friendly vampire, he revealed that he awoke from his deep slumber a month before our meeting. It was around the time I was touring the house for the first time. Miguel detailed how his heart grew with anticipation as my footsteps echoed throughout the home. He knew from the moment I stepped out of the car that I was the woman he was looking for, a missing piece to a very complicated puzzle. He wanted nothing more than to reach out to me, but since I primarily arrived at the estate during the daytime he couldn't.

In pure vampiric fashion, Miguel decided to wait on the night of the full moon to make his grand appearance. The mysticism of the event was supposed to soften the blow, at least that's what he assumed. Since the curse was performed on a full moon, our connection would be amplified during that time. Which was why he was able to read my thoughts so clearly and I read his emotions.

The more I talked to Miguel, the more fairy tale-esque the situation felt. It was as though I was a princess, forced to stay in a drafty old castle with a mysterious prince. Someone that looked brutal and monstrous on the outside. Someone that has the capability of ripping someone's head off without breaking a sweat. Yet, he was the kindest man I had ever met.

My eyes flickered over to one of the many gifts that Miguel has given me over the last few days. There had been about two dozen Double Delight roses sitting in a pristine crystal vase before me. Their white core seemed to glow in the moonlight, while red tips glittered like rubies. I had never seen something so pretty. I don’t know how he managed to order them, with him being a vampire and all, but the action had struck something in me. Miguel didn’t get me flowers out of obligation. He didn’t get them because it was an anniversary or a birthday. He had gotten them just because he knew they would bring me joy.

I cried when I saw them.

"You have to stop crying every time I give you something," Miguel said, placing a box on the kitchen counter. "You're going to make me want to kill your past lovers."

My eyes widened at the statement. "Why would you do that?"

"Because they didn't treat you right," he replied nonchalantly. "I mean, what is courting if not showering a woman with gifts?"

I could feel the tears immediately well in my eyes. "Miguel. . . " I murmured.

"You didn’t even open the gift and you're already crying," he tsked. The vampire pulled a tissue from the box and lifted it to my face. "May I?"

I nodded.

Miguel closed the gap between us. His massive body towered over my own, completely encasing me against the counter. He brought the tissue to the corner of my eye and began to dab. His tired brown eyes fazed into mine with an unreadable emotion. It was a cross between uncertainty and adoration. It was almost like he was pondering whether I had truly been his perfect match. If I would ever accept the union and show him who I was. He could sense that I was hiding something, but never pushed. Miguel was a patient man. He was fine waiting an eternity for me to trust him, as long as I stayed with him.

The vampire lowered the tissue from my face but kept his body close to mine. His brown eyes stayed steady on my face. They digested my worrisome demeanor and presented a soft facial expression. I took my bottom lip between my teeth and nibbled nervously. My eyes kept stealing glances at his soft lips. They have been my main distraction for the past month and I was beginning to lose my self-control.

As a freshly separated woman, the temptation was as strong as ever. A big, strong, rich vampire wanted to take care of me for an eternity? How does one say no to that? I was struggling too.

Kiss me.

I shouted the two words out loud in my mind, in hopes that he'll hear them. His eyes widened from the statement and a slow smile crept onto his face. His muscular arms wrapped around my plump body and pulled me even closer to him. I could feel my ample bosoms squish against his hard abdomen, which sent a shiver down our spine. Miguel’s thoughts were just as dirty as mine and we were tempted to make them a reality.

The vampire slowly leaned on closer, forcing our noses to touch. He parted his lips and gradually inched towards my mouth. It felt like time was moving in slow motion. The first brush of his lips made my heart stop. My knees felt weak and Miguel had to gather me in his arms. A pleasurable sensation skated across my nerves. Fireworks had exploded behind my closed eyes and everything seemed to still be around me.

It was simply magical.

Miguel goes to pull away, but I grip his shirt to stop him. Slowly but surely I had found my strength and hooked my arms around his neck. I kissed him back. I welcomed every emotion that blossomed from our union. Adoration. Longing. Lust. I moaned against his lips and brought my body closer to his. A growl erupted behind his throat as he lifted me off the ground. My legs were wrapped around his hips and my arms were securely around his neck.

Are you sure this is what you want, mi amor?

His Latin accent was thicker than usual in my mind. The lust was quickly eating away at his polished demeanor. The carnal desires were slowly coming to the light and his inner beast was almost ready to pounce.

I couldn’t wait.

I pulled away from the drooling vampire and scanned his face. His pupils were dilated and his mouth was partially open. He didn't have to use his lungs or breathe if he didn't want to. Yet, Miguel was heaving. The kiss had seemed to bring life to him, forcing him to take rapid breaths.

His thoughts were loud in my mind.

Miguel wanted me. He wanted me in every way one could imagine.

He wanted me on the floor. Bent over the couch. Against the wall. He wanted me in the shower, hands pressed against the glass. Hovering over the bathroom sink with my arms behind my back. He wanted me in the kitchen, across the island with my legs on his shoulders. He wanted me in the study, fucking me so hard the books fell off the shelves. He wanted me in my bed, my thighs smothering his face while my hips wiggled against his mouth.

Miguel wanted to truly break the house— our house in. The vampire wanted to fuck me on every available flat surface possible; from the top of his coffin in the basement to the expensive rug in front of the fireplace. He wanted me in the best and the worst way. He wanted me in any way he could have me.

And, to my surprise, I was going to let him.

I want you, Miguel. I want you so bad it hurts.

His eyes fluttered closed and he tightened his grip on my body. Miguel pressed his forehead to mine and released a shaky breath. “That’s all I ever wanted to hear, Y/N.”

His plump lips locked with mine moments later. The kiss was even more intense than its predecessor and it made spin. My hands found their way into his hair, tugging and pulling the curls as I wiggled my tongue in his mouth. The Latin man blindly started to take steps out of the kitchen. Like an expert, he managed to walk through the hallway without bumping into any furniture or walls. He slowly walked up the stairs, while dropping messy kisses down my jaw and to my neck. My eyes rolled back as he sucked the tender area. My whimpers bounced through the house without warning. The sheer sounds of my pleasure were starting to stir things within me.

My ex always wanted me to be quiet when the moment came. He said my moans were “nauseating” and took him out of the mood. Richard preferred I be as silent as a mouse while he climbed on top of me a humped me like a rabid dog. The sex never lasted longer than ten minutes and there was rarely any foreplay. The act felt like a chore, rather than an activity we could enjoy together.

It was one of the many things Richard ruined for me.

Miguel lowered my body onto a familiar surface and pulled me away from the embrace. I opened my eyes to see his big brown eyes staring down at me. A look of pure bliss had graced his face as a took me in. He looked at me as if I were the only woman in the entire world. Like I was his most prized possession. Miguel O’Hara looked at me as if I was his entire reason for existing and I could feel my heart swell with an emotion I almost forgot existed: love.

I was beginning to fall in love with a man I had barely known for a month.

I was falling in love with a man that rested for a hundred years, waiting for me.

I had started to fall in love with a vampire. A monster to some, but an absolute sweetheart to me.

The fanged bastard was starting to creep into my cold heart and repair everything I thought was broken forever.

Miguel had made me realize that there wasn’t anything wrong with me, that I wasn’t broken. I just needed the right lover to make me whole.

My trembling hands reached for the buttons on my shirt. I fumbled with the little pieces of plastic, silently cursing myself for being so nervous. Without saying a word, Miguel’s gentle hands replaced my own. His nimble fingers undid the buttons in a matter of seconds. He slipped the cotton garment off my shoulders and tossed it aside. The longs digits gently caressed my soft center and shoulders. Miguel’s touches were light and respectful— something I wasn’t particularly craving at that moment. With shaky hands, I fumbled with the belt buckle of my pants. I undid the fastening of the dark blue jeans and started to push them down my waist. The vampire moved his hands lower, assisting me in the undressing activity. As he did that, I removed the hair clip from my head and allowed my box braids to fall to my back.

Miguel growled at the sight. He took in my pretty purple lingerie set and crawled on the bed. It was a vintage lacy number, with handmade lace and silk ribbons. I had bought it sometime after he had given me the twelfth gift; it was one he had to assemble. His bulging muscles and breathy grunts had practically pushed me to the lingerie website. My dirty, little mind couldn’t help but imagine him making those noises while I was underneath him. For that reason, I decided I needed to be ready. I needed to wear lingerie just in case I got lucky.

“You’re as beautiful as a painting, mi amor,” he purred. “I could stare at you forever.”

A warm sensation arose to my cheeks as my heart began to pound. “Miguel. . .”

“My darling. . .” he replied, slowly unbuttoning his shirt. He slipped the thin cotton fabric from his muscular arms and tossed it aside. “I have waited for this. . .” Miguel unbuckled his pants. “I have waited for you. . .” He slid the dark grey trousers down his muscle thighs and allowed them to pool at his ankles. “For over a century and that wasn’t nearly as hard as being in the same house with you for the past four weeks.”

The final thing remaining on his body was a pair of boxer briefs, which I had bought him. The bulge, now unrestricted, was bigger than I could’ve ever imagined. It was bigger than I could have ever had, yet I wasn’t scared. If what he told me was true, then we were made for each other. Completely destined to be united. So, in other words, I should be able to take his monster dick with no problem.

Touch me.

Within seconds, his massive body was hovering atop mine. His lips were dancing along my neck as his fingertips wiggled between my thighs. They pushed past my waistband and down my curly mound. The callous pads gently caressed the sensitive lower lips, which caused my body to shiver. They separated the vulva and found my happy-swollen pearl instantly. A gasp erupted from my throat as the man above me rubbed large circles against it. It had been so long since I had been touched so intimately by someone else— I had almost forgotten what the sensation felt. Moans spilled from my lips as my hands pulled against his hair. My body vibrated against his, begging Miguel to take it just a single step further. My slick channel felt so empty and practically unused. It craved to be stretched and probed.

“You are so wet. . .” The vampire growled against my neck. “I’ve barely even touched you. . .”

“Please. . .” I mewled, rolling my body against his. “Stop the teasing. . . I can’t take it anymore.”

Miguel released a deep chuckle. “Whatever you say, mi amor.”

In the blink of an eye, my underwear was off and the vampire was beneath me. My thighs rested on either side of his handsome face and his large hands were on my hips. I looked down and immediately noticed the facial expression he chose to wear for that occasion. It was pure adoration. My curly mound and sensitive vulva were in his direct line of vision. The vampire had been staring at it as if it were the most marvelous thing he had ever seen in his 300+ years of living. With tender hands, he pushed my hovering hips down on his open, waiting maw. Electricity shot through my body as his tongue lapped against my folds.

“Oh fuck. . .”

My hips rolled against his eager face, while I used the headboard to stabilize myself. The velvet muscle caressed the sensitive area, sending shocks through my body. His firm grasp directed my hips closer to his face. The gentle pulling didn’t stop until my pelvis was comfortably resting on the hot mouth and prickly chin. The fear of smothering him had come and gone; Miguel O’Hara was a traditional vampire in every sense. He didn’t need to breathe. He could feast on my beloved womanhood for as long as he desired without coming up for air. Shivers ran through my spine from the idea. A feeling of triumph coursed through my veins, alongside the pleasure giving me goosebumps. I had truly hit the lover jackpot of the millennia.

Eventually, his soft lips found the aching pearl underneath her curtains. The lips wrapped around the bud and trapped her in a cage. A powerful suction fired up in Miguel’s mouth and my eyes snapped open from the action. My hips started to have a mind of its own. I rolled them faster on his face, harder too. He alternated between sucking and lapping the oozing cunt— my god did it feel oh so good. Desire was coursing through my needy body. A hunger I didn’t recognize was forming in the pit of my stomach. There was a sort of power in the position Miguel had placed me in. My thighs were completely smothering his face and his mouth was full of my cunt. My hips were fucking his hot mouth like they only had five minutes left on Earth. My hands gripped the headboard so tightly I thought I might break it. I could feel my peak nearing, but the notion didn’t stop my movements. I fucked myself against his mouth for what felt like hours until my back suddenly arched and my toes curled.

“Fuck!” I cursed as my legs shook against his face. “I’m gonna cum! I’m gonna cum all over that pretty face!”

Slowly, all the feeling left my body except Miguel’s mouth on my pussy. My limbs numbed and my head drew blank. I could no longer hear the sounds of the sultry moans dripping from my lips, just my rapid heartbeat exploding in my chest. There was a warm sensation at the pit of my stomach, one I hardly recognized. My mouth fell open and my movements came to a screeching halt. My thighs squeezed shut, and my body hunched forward. One of my hands gripped his hair, while the other remained on the headboard. Short shouts spilled from my lips. Incoherent phrases followed soon after. There was not a cohesive thought in my mind at that moment.

The orgasm felt long and raw. It unearthed something unholy within me. I wanted more of it. I wanted more of him. I needed Miguel inside of me right then and right now.

When my soul had returned to my body, I dragged my twitching lower half to his awaiting cock. It was still hard, throbbing, and glistening. I wrapped my hand around the shaft and ran the tip along my puffy pussy. I let it circle my clit a few times before aligning it with my entrance.

“Y/N, wait— Shit!”

My slutty hips slowly sank onto the vampire’s cock, earning a violent twitch of the member inside of me. I firmly placed my hands on his chest, pushing my hips down even more. There was a subtle burn from how much he stretched my needy pussy, but I didn’t mind. I only made it about halfway down the shaft before Miguel started to rub my forgotten clit. Moans fell from my lips as I pushed down just a little bit more. Before I knew it, the entire member was buried in my snatch to our surprise. We looked down in shock at where our curly bits met in shock.

We are made for each other, huh?

Miguel’s eyes sparkled at the statement and a wicked grin fell on his lips.

Before I knew it, the vampire had placed me flat on my back with my legs hugging his waist. His deep brown eyes were looking into mine with such intention— I didn’t need to hear his voice in my mind to understand it. Miguel, then, hooked his arms underneath my shoulders and placed his forehead against mine. His hips rolled slowly against my womanhood. The painstakingly muted movements made my body sing with anticipation. It felt as though he was testing the waters. The vampire wanted to see just how used how much my heat accommodate his massive cock. He needed to make sure I wasn’t being hurt in any way and that the motions weren’t too rough for me.

I brought my lips to his and gave him a seductive kiss.

Fuck me like you mean it.

The massive man groaned against my lips and started to litter lazy kisses against my neck.

You’re going to be the death of me.

Before I could process what he meant, the vampire lifted his head from the area and readjusted his body. He placed his palms flat down on the mattress and raised his body from mine. Our chests were separated, but our legs were tangled together. It seemed like he preferred it that way. He took in my expression once more before increasing his thrusts. The process was gradual. The pressure and speed increased in small increments. Again, Miguel was testing my limits as to how much I could handle. He was doing everything in his power to make sure this was a comfortable experience instead of a painful one.

The moans didn’t start flying from my mouth until a few moments passed. My entire body was jiggling from the force applied to his thrusts. My eyes slipped shut and my back arched against his looming body.

"Please," I whimpered. "Please, Miguel. Just a little harder."

I could feel a pleasurable flame ignited within me. I wanted nothing more than my body ablaze and the wind knocked from me. The hunger was still prevalent even after the hardest orgasm of my life. I wanted Miguel in any possible way I could have him. Above, below, and adjacent. On my back, my stomach, or my side. I wanted him to plow his massive member in me, just as desperately as he sucked into my snatch.

With a growl, Miguel hoisted my body in the air and pulled me onto his lap. Instinctively, I hooked my arms around his neck and my legs around his waist. He sat back on his heels and held me tightly against his chest. Without warning, his hips rose from their slouched position and collided with my center. A gasp tickled my tongue and air escaped my lungs. The thrusts were deep and hard. They pushed through me with such intention and precision that it was supernatural. The smooth head of his member was nestled against a pleasure point I forgot I had. The snap of his hips had sent the head to kiss the underside of my cervix, which was sending shock waves through my core. His strength and speed were unmatched. The hip thrusts were so quick that it felt as if Miguel was vibrating against me. My entire body felt tingly and warm. Deep throaty moans shot out of me as my eyes fell closed. My walls fluttered against the devilish member and I could already feel my peak begin to rise.

“H-h-holy Sh-sh-shit,” I stammered, digger my nails into his shoulders. “M-M-Miguel. . .”

Even with my eyes closed, I could feel the smile slowly take over his face.

Take me, mi amor. Take all of me. My cock, my power, my adoration— it is all yours to have. To hold. To cherish.

The sweet words had sent my insides into a frenzy. My heart swelled from the dedication. It made the impending orgasm all that much sweeter.

I am yours. In this lifetime and the next. I will remain by your side as long as you breathe and even after that.

His name was the only word I could formulate in my mind as he continued to pound into me. I chanted it over and over again in my mind since my tongue wasn’t cooperating properly. I thought about our life together and what it could look like. Our nights would be filled with cuddles and kisses. Declarations of love and tiny gifts to show appreciation towards each other. There would be no arguments or spats over silly things. I wouldn’t have to hide in my bedroom because he came home too drunk or pretend it didn’t happen the next morning. I could ask him to fix things and it would get done. I wouldn’t have to wonder if his love was true, since he had no problem with telling me every chance he got. From what I gathered from his mind, there was nothing I could do to make Miguel love me even less. Nothing I could do to provoke him to yell at me or attempt to hit him. Even if I drew a stake into his heart, Miguel wouldn’t even stop me. He told me, “Death by your hand is the only way I would want to go.”

What he had for me was more than just love and trust. It is more than simply being fated to one another. He had the drive to be a good partner, someone worth loving. It showed in everything he ever did. From the copious amounts of gifts to the gentle words in my mind as he fucked me into another dimension— Miguel O’Hara simply loved loving me and that made my heart ache.

The orgasm collided with my body and immediately pulled me out of my daze. My eyes rolled back and my head fell as well. Short, curt gasps puffed out of my mouth. Fireworks exploded throughout my mind as the orgasm progressed. His movements remained steady and consistent, making it even longer than intended.

On my pleasurable way down, one of my hands crept up to Miguel’s head and took hold of his dark curls. I moved my head a little bit and exposed my neck.

Drink.

Miguel stopped his rapid thrusting and looked down at me. “Are you sure, darling? Because you don’t have to—”

“I want to,” I interjected. “And I trust that you won’t drain me completely. So, drink.”

His brown eyes fluttered to my exposed neck and shaky breath left his lips. “Just let me know if I am hurting you, okay?”

“Mhm.”

Slowly, Miguel sunk his teeth into the soft flesh, earning a small gasp from me. There was a small pinch, but then it was followed by gentle suckling. My eyes fluttered closed as a glorious sensation arose within me. It was foreign, something I could only describe as delectable. The forbidden nature of the act was feeding my carnal desires in a way that nothing else had. In a way, Miguel had been getting his fill of me just as I got of him. The transaction was nowhere near normal or mundane. The supernatural nature of it was making my head spin and my desire spike once again.

My hips rolled against his lap as he continued to drink from my neck. His member was still hard nestled between my sensitive walls, but it was twitching. It signaled to me that Miguel was just as turned on as I was by the act. I pulled our bodies back, resulting in me on my back again. His mouth slipped from my neck with a groan. Miguel sat up from his slumped position and looked up at the ceiling. When he opened his eyes, they were pupil-less. The once-white sclera was shrouded in black with specks of white, from the moonlight. His mouth was painted a deep crimson and his fangs were longer than than I had ever seen them. He looked every bit like a scary, bloodthirsty vampire; yet I wasn’t afraid of him. Not for one second. I was even more turned on.

“Filthy little minx.” His voice was deeper than before. It rumbled through me and straight to my core. “You entice me with such a tempting offer and then lay there all pretty and docile.” He licked his lips slowly, capturing every stray drop of blood at the corners of his mouth. “It’s almost like you want me to ruin your pretty, plump body with my vampiric tendencies.”

He pulled my rear back onto his lap but left my upper back against the mattress. Miguel’s massive hands took hold of my hips before he snapped his against mine at a sickening pace. It wasn’t nearly as fast as before, but it was a little bit harder than earlier. My breasts bounced atop my chest as the thrusts pierced through me. The vampire was no longer kissing the sweet spot beneath my cervix; he was obliterating it. My fingers gripped the sheets beneath me and I held them tightly.

“Oh Fuck!” I yelled, staring directly into his eyes. “Just like that! Don’t stop!”

The sweet lover that I had grown to adore had left and been replaced with something I can only describe as a monster. The nature of his movements could no longer be described as tender and loving. They were animalist and rugged. They were unholy and disgusting— yet I couldn’t get enough. Miguel had fucked me like I was the last woman on earth. There was no hate or malice in the action. It left like he needed me. Like I was the only person that could get him that turned on and ready to risk it all.

“And you would absolutely correct, mi amor,” he groaned, staring down at me. Never breaking his pace, not even for a moment. “No woman will ever have the power that you have over me. To me, you are the last woman on this Earth that will get this kind of care and devotion from me. I will spend an eternity trying to prove myself worthy of your adoration. You are my first and last love.”

“Oh yes!” I screamed, gripping the sheets harder. “Keep going! Please keep going.”

A snarl crept from his throat as his dangerous pace continued. Even in the heat of pleasure, I could feel his hips fluttering and his cock twitching. Miguel was starting to reach his limit.

Come with me.

The vampire threw his head back and shouted a word in spanish. His hips had done their best to keep their iron will and delectable pace, but they became sloppy and unorganized. Miguel’s chest was rising and falling as if he had just ran a marathon. His mouth was agape and his fangs were still long. His thighs were vibrating underneath my rear and his member twitched violently within me. Yet, like the gentleman he was, Miguel’s hand found my aching pearl and he started to rub it viciously.

Our bodies rasped and shook against one another. Our breathing was practically in sync as we the throes of pleasure collided with our spirits.

I love you, Y/N.

The vampire had shouted the statement in my mind as his cock shot hot liquid into my snatch. Miguel whimpered and whined as he emptied the load in me. It was a beautiful site. To have a have a man enjoying sex and passion without limiting the experience was delightful. I could feel my heart begin to warm and my mind gain a glossy haze. A gentle pool in my belly started to overfill and my orgasm poured onto me. It was a gently as a river and just as powerful as the ones prior. It caused my entire body to relax into the mattress and my rear to slip from Miguel’s lap. I threw an arm over my face as my body trembled and twitched.

Without missing a beat, Miguel moved from his position between my legs. He took a spot on the right side of my body and pulled me into his arms. He cradled me as the aftershocks of the orgasm died down. The vampire murmured sweetnothings into my ears and mind. Reassuring me that everything was okay and that I was safe. After a few moments, I lifted my head from his chest and found his eyes. They had went back to their normal state. My shaky hands brushed against his sharp jawline and strong nose bridge. I cupped his cheek, before pressing his lips to mine.

I adore you.

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a/n: I have seen the asks and the messages. I appreciate your support and I will try my best to get on them as soon as possible. I will be posting every Sunday once again.

next on the queue (hopefully): Peter B Parker x Reader x Miguel O'Hara

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prettybabybaby · 5 months

Text

rating: 18+. mdni.

pairing: lorenzo berkshire x reader

content: noncon/dubcon, oral (m)

lorenzo was all but fuming when he heard that a juvenile dare was given mattheo riddle. the task that he must seduce you, pull a blindfold over your eyes and sit you on your knees, bare and vulnerable, lips plump and ready to wrap around a cock that would never come. he was tasked to leave you there, cement hurting your knees and cold air chilling your skin.

lorenzo hadn’t expected you to be there for so long. he expected to walk in on an empty room, devoid of all evidence that such a cruel prank had taken place with you as the victim. yet, there you were.

your knees were unsurprisingly scuffed and you had taken to sitting, even appearing bored if the impatient tapping of your fingers and the huff leaving your lips was something to go by. your body was bare, curves highlighted by the melanin in your skin contrasting the color of the wallpaper behind you. your pout was lathered in gloss, a flattered red tone that never felt like too much.

you visibly perked up as lorenzo let the door click shut.

“I thought you forgot about me,” you said, letting a short laugh exit your nose. “what took you so long, mattheo?”

lorenzo froze, feeling his mouth fall open before he let it shut again.

you huffed again, “I can’t see you and now you’re not letting me hear you either?”

he said thing again as he took slow steps in your direction, watching you settle onto you knees again. your lips curves into a grin as his warmth wafted over to you, his pressed trousers within reach. you unbuckled his held and popped his zipper with ease and eagerness, yanking his pants and underwear down and past his thighs. a shaky breath left lorenzo’s mouth as his pants fell to his ankles, the metal buckle of his belt hitting the hard floor.

“nervous?” you asked while pumping his cock that was already stiffening. “I promise I’ll make it worth it,” you whispered, glossy lips ghosting over the leaking head of his cock.

your lips wrapped around his cock perfectly, stretching over his girth. your tongue slid beneath his shaft as you took him deeper. a giggle sent a vibration through his body as you laughed, hearing the weakness in the moan lorenzo was unable to contain.

you looked pretty on your knees for him, a sight he had always longed to see. the blindfold was pulled taut against your eyes, covering the color of your irises and the way your eyes undoubtedly watered as you bobbed your head up and down his length, taking him deeper each time.

you moaned against him, seemingly enjoying yourself just as much as he was. you drowned yourself in the feeling of him as much as he drowned himself in the feeling of you. only, it wasn’t lorenzo on your mind. he almost felt guilty for taking advantage of the situation. especially as he began to rut his hips against your face, prodding at the back of your throat before finally passing the threshold.

you gagged and sputtered, digging your nails into his thighs as he caressed your face with care that was absent in the way he fucked your face. lorenzo groaned, again unable to stop it from bubbling out of his throat. he couldn’t shake the fear that ran through him when he realized that you could recognize the tone of his voice. not because it was lorenzo’s, but because it didn’t belong to the man was supposed to be filling your mouth with pearly cum.

the contracting of your throat around his dick snapped him out of his rational thoughts, shutting them off completely as he harshly bit his lip. he told himself no harm would be done if he just slipped away before you managed to pull the fabric over your eyes, but with your naked frame in front of him, lorenzo doubted he would stop.

#tw noncon #tw dubcon #by belle !#lorenzo berkshire (belle’s version)#lorenzo berkshire x reader #lorenzo berkshire smut #enzo berkshire smut #enzo berkshire x reader #dark!enzo berkshire #dark!lorenzo berkshire #dark!slytherin boys #slytherin boys #lorenzo berkshire #enzo berkshire

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honeybeefae · 1 year

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Shadows of Fire (Azriel x Reader x Eris)

Summary// You stumbled upon something that you should have never seen, something that would send two courts of Pyrthian into chaos if made public. After a week of trying to forget, the two men cornered you, leaving you nowhere to run even if you wanted. However, deep down inside, did you?

(Azris is like my OTP and writing this was SO fun. I love this idea of a reader sandwich and I cannot lie I have fantasized about this exact scenario multiple times. Enjoy this 4,600 smut fic! I hope you guys like it!)

WARNINGS: Smut, Threesome, Bondage, Edging, Orgasm Denial, MMF, Spitting

By the time you arrived back at your shared apartment, it was late. You weren’t even meant to be there tonight but the date you had planned went up in smoke. He was cocky and rude, staring at your breasts for most of the night while the rest was spent bragging about the women he slept with.

It shouldn’t have been a surprise to him when you declined his invitation to go home with him but by the look on his face, he seemed shocked his moves hadn’t made you putty in his hands. You had to refrain from rolling your eyes when he sneered at you, storming off like a child.

Good riddance.

Your roommate, Azriel, had plans tonight and you hoped you wouldn’t be interrupted as you unlocked the door quietly. His late-night rendezvous often left at this time so your fingers were crossed that you wouldn’t walk in on something that would make your eyes bleed.

And it wasn’t that you thought he was unattractive. Anyone with two eyes could see that he was, with tan skin and a lean frame. Black tattoos covered his body which only added to his dangerous vibe not even counting the wings. You weren’t stupid enough to deny the attraction.

However, you also weren’t stupid enough to jeopardize a friendship for a fuck that could only end badly. Azriel didn’t “do” relationships and you had heard more than one girl leave angrily when he denied them the night. No matter how badly you might want to have sex with him you were not going to give in to the temptation.

The floor creaked under your bare feet as you gingerly walked down the hallway, keeping your eyes ahead as you strained to hear any noises. You cursed under your breath when you heard soft moans and grunts coming from his room, the smell of sex increasing with every step you took.

You picked up your pace and prayed to the Mother they didn’t hear you, not wanting to deal with Azriel’s agitation or god forbid a jealous woman thinking you were here to steal her man. As you beelined for your room beside his you saw the door to his bedroom slightly ajar and you froze when you heard something… unexpected.

“Oh, Az,” A deep, sultry voice moaned loudly. “I always knew you couldn’t resist me.”

That voice…didn’t belong to a woman. It also didn’t belong to just any man, at least not a regular one. Thanks to your emissary duties to the Autumn Court, you knew that voice like the back of your hand.

That voice belonged to Eris.

Surprise was an understatement for what you were feeling as your feet cemented into the floor, your dark figure looming in the doorway as you saw the two of them. There were a few candles lit around the room, giving just the right amount of light for you to see the two sworn enemies in a very interesting position.

Azriel had Eris pinned against a wall, his wings tucked in tightly as he bit and sucked at the red-headed male’s neck. Eris had his head thrown back in ecstasy, his hands digging into the Shadowsinger’s hips as he ground down onto his clothed thigh. They were both breathing heavily, their shirtless chests already coated in sweat. You knew you needed to leave, to pretend that you never saw the two of them like this, but something about them was hypnotic.

The way their bodies moved against each other, how Azriel’s shadows caressed the neglected areas of Eris while they shucked off the rest of their clothes. It was like they were the only two in the world. A thrill went down your spine at being such a voyeur to this scene, the taboo couple adding fuel to the fire as you felt yourself grow wet.

“I might put that mouth of yours to better use, prince,” Azriel growled as he grasped Eris’s cock through his boxers, his grin feral at how he melted into his touch. “You’re only good for sucking my cock anyways. Isn’t that right?”

One of your hands flew over your mouth to conceal the moan that wanted to escape as you watched Eris nod submissively, his knees hitting the floor as if it were the most natural thing in the world. It shouldn’t have been as hot as it was.

Azriel fisted Eris’s hair into his hand and guided him to his cock, his nostrils flaring as he got to work. You could only see his head bobbing up and down but your mind was ready to fill in the blanks, your fingers itching to bury themselves in your needy cunt.

“Oh, fuck, Eris,” The Illyrian growled loudly, his hips pistoning in and out as he used him as his fucktoy. You watched Eris palm at his red cock, the candlelight catching the bead of precum on his tip as he readily took everything Azriel gave to him.

Your fingers were teasing the waistband of your panties before you sent them further south, rubbing your clit through your underwear. It was just the right amount of friction that had you biting your tongue to keep quiet as you watched them.

After only a few seconds of teasing yourself, you couldn’t wait any longer and hastily pushed your panties aside to shove your fingers inside yourself. You knew it wasn’t going to be enough but you kept fucking yourself, matching your thrusts with Azriel's as their moans grew louder.

Everything was getting too hot, too fast, and you gripped the doorway to steady yourself, freezing when it creaked under your weight.

No, no, no, no…

Both men froze and turned to look where the sound had come from, their gazes full of surprise and what looked like anger as they took in your form, your smell, and your hand down your pants. You blinked once before yanking your fingers out of your still-dripping core and running out the apartment door, slamming into an innocent person who just happened to be walking by.

“Sorry! I’m so sorry!” You spluttered as you kept running, waving a hand behind you while weaving through the streets. The night air was cold on your skin as you looked behind you, making sure you weren’t followed before you finally stopped to lean against a building. “What the fuck have I done?”

Both of your hands went up to grab the sides of your head as you looked up at the stars, shaking your head in disbelief. You had lost yourself in watching them, their passion, and not only intruded on their very personal moment but also fucked yourself while watching.

You had just ruined not one but two relationships for a stupid, lust-driven decision. Azriel would never be able to look you in the eyes again and Eris…mother above, your already shaky relationship with his court has now crumbled completely.

“I am so screwed…I might as well pack my shit up tonight.” You mumbled to yourself, trying to stop your bottom lip from quivering as your anger turned to sadness.

“Why would you do that?” A raspy voice asked from beside you, making you jump and whip around. Your eyes widened in fear when you saw Azriel leaning casually against the wall, Truthteller twirling in his hands. “Did you see something you weren’t supposed to?”

“Azriel, I-” You tried to explain, taking a nervous step back only to bump into a solid mass. Your throat bobbed as you leaned your head back to find a smirking Eris. “Guys, listen, I am so sorry-”

“Are you though?” Eris tilted his head, grabbing your forearms roughly and spinning you around to face him. “You could have run, you could have gone to bed, but you stood there watching us…”

“With your fingers shoved in your needy little cunt.” Azriel finished for him, pushing himself off the wall to come up behind you. “What you saw tonight…it does not leave your mouth, do you understand?”

You hesitated, your entire body on high alert as you were sandwiched between the two men, and you flinched when you saw Az’s eyes darken. Before you could blink he had his scarred fingers gripping your face painfully, his nose brushing against yours as he bent down and said, “Answer me.”

“I swear on my life.” You promised quickly, eyes flickering between the two of them. “I won’t tell anyone just please let me go, please don’t hurt me.”

He held you for a moment longer before letting go, both of them stepping back as you took in much-needed air with a hand over your chest. Adrenaline was coursing through your body as you started to walk away, resisting the urge to run, until something cool wrapped around your wrist and yanked you back.

Your feet stumbled but you caught your footing before you could faceplant, looking down to see one of Azriel’s shadows holding your arm. You lifted your frantic gaze upwards only to see them both smirking devilishly.

“Do you smell that?” Azriel hummed, raising a brow towards Eris as the redheaded nodded and clicked his tongue.

“I do…it’s the same smell that was in the apartment when Y/N was fucking herself,” Eris replied. You could feel a shift in the air as they watched you with wicked delight. The sound of your heartbeat was roaring in your ears as you struggled against the shadowy binds only to gasp when a rope of fire slithered around your other arm. “Where do you think you’re going, pet?”

“The fun is just starting.” The Spymaster smiled as they both tugged you forward roughly, sending you spiraling towards them until four large hands caught you and straightened you out. “You wanted to watch us so badly. Let us put on a proper show for you.”

“No, I don’t-” You tried to protest only to shudder when you felt a pair of warm lips on the shell of your ear, the heat of the fiery bonds increasing briefly as Eris dragged a hand down the side of your body. It shouldn’t have felt as good as it did and when you looked up you saw Azriel watching you with hooded eyes.

“Are you sure about that, mouse? Look at how quickly you’re coming apart.” He snickered, cupping your face and running his thumb over your bottom lip. “We’ve barely even touched you and you look like you’re ready to burst.”

Eris continued his lazy exploration of your body while his mouth caressed your neck. Your hands were fisted at your sides as Azriel watched on, licking his lips as he slipped the pad of his thumb into your mouth. “Suck it.”

And despite all the qualms you had about this situation, about the two of them, you found yourself immediately listening to his instructions. You took the large digit and started sucking and swirling your tongue around it, the slight groan from Az’s throat only spurring you on.

“Good girl.” Eris whispered into your ear.

Another shiver ran down your spine from his words as you closed your eyes to avoid the embarrassment of how much this was turning you on. However, Azriel seemed to want to watch how they were affecting you. Both of their bonds suddenly disappeared as you stumbled back, barely catching yourself against the wall as you glared at them.

“What the hell?” You huffed, crossing your arms before letting out a small shriek as Eris threw you over his shoulder. Your fists banged against his back while your feet kicked around but a loud, hard slap to your ass got you to still momentarily.

“Save your voice for the bedroom, pet. You’re going to need it.” He chuckled with a glance over at Azriel, the two of them nodding before you felt yourself drop into nothingness. Your stomach churned as you winnowed into Azriel’s bedroom, Eris dropping you roughly on the bed as the Spymaster swooped in from the balcony.

“I truly am sorry, more than sorry even, for invading your privacy.” You swallowed thickly, your palms sweaty. “What I did was wrong and perverted and-”

“Mother above, shut her up, Eris.” Azriel rolled his eyes, smiling when your eyes widened as a thick rope of fire tightened around your throat. It wasn’t tight enough to cut off your airway but you knew he could if he wanted. “Spare us the holier than though speech, mouse.”

“I’m just-” You tried to argue only to gasp when the fire grew hotter. Your skin starts to sweat from the heat and you realize that four more binds have wrapped around your wrists and ankles, spreading you open for the two of them. Eris also used the opportunity to burn your clothes to dust, the wind scattering it across the floor as he left you bare for them.

“You just what? You just stood there and watched as I fucked Eris’s mouth? Stood there and touched yourself to the sight of the two of us?” Azriel was now on top of you, his eyes dark and tone seductive. “Admit it, Y/N. Admit it to yourself that you enjoyed watching us. Admit that deep down inside you are nothing but a wanton whore.”

“I’m not!” You denied, frowning, only to thrash and struggle as a cloth was shoved into your mouth. “Mmm! Mphm!”

Azriel clicked his tongue while shaking his head, stepping back onto the floor and turning to Eris. “Shall we continue before we were so rudely interrupted?”

“What about her?” Eris jerked his head towards you as you still struggled against your restraints. He frowned and narrowed his eyes, the flames licking up your skin burning fiercely for a moment until you whimpered in pain. “I must admit, I’ve wanted to taste her from the moment she walked into my court.”

“As soon as she can admit to herself that she loves watching and being treated like this, she can join us. Until then…” Azriel trailed off, grabbing Eris’s hips and pulling him towards him. The redhead grinned and kissed him with a passionate fire you could feel from the bed, their teeth clashing as they hastily removed their clothing.

You bit down on the cloth as their cocks sprang free from the confine of their pants, both of them impossibly large and thick. Azriel had more length while Eris was slightly girthier, though you know what mattered more was how they used it. Wetness began to pool between your thighs once more as you wriggled slightly, trying to gain some friction.

“Knees. Now.” Azriel commanded, his chest rumbling when Eris readily responded and took his cock in his mouth. It was already hard and you moaned loudly when you saw Eris’s throat bob with every inch he took of the Illyrian.

Your fingers flexed as you watched him swallow Azriel down to the base, the Shadowsinger making a choking sound before grabbing a fistful of red hair and holding him there for several seconds. Tears were welling up in Eris’s eyes as he struggled to breathe but he never fought against Az’s hold. He took everything he was giving him.

“Good boy, good fucking boy,” Azriel grunted, finally letting him come up for air as he turned to look at you. “Look at how wet you’ve made her, Eris. She’s soaking the sheets.”

“Fuck, she looks delicious…” Eris moaned. “Are you ready to submit yet, pet? Ready to show us how good you can be?”

You hesitated, struggling with the moral and immoral thoughts swirling around your brain, and whined when Azriel shrugged his shoulders and turned back to his lover. “Her loss.” He said, using Eris’s hair to guide him back to his throbbing dick. “Eyes on me, prince.”

He had no hesitation as he went back to work on his cock, his hands rubbing where his mouth couldn’t reach. Your mouth went dry as you saw Azriel grow more and more desperate, his hips snapping in time with Eris’s sucking. Every inch of your skin felt as if you were on fire and when you saw Azriel shove him all the way down his throat, spilling inside him, your resolve finally broke.

“Mmmph! Mmm!” You garbled through the makeshift gag, your pussy weeping with how desperate you were. They ignored you, lost in their own euphoria as Eris’s own cock jerked in need of release.

“Don’t swallow it, greedy prince. Keep my cum warm for me while I check on our little voyeur.” Az smirked, gingerly pulling out of his mouth before strolling towards you. His cock was glistening with Eris’s spit and his own cum, already starting to get hard again as you looked up at him with pleading eyes.

“Something to say, mouse? Do you need something?” He taunted, one of his shadows ghosting over your swollen cunt. It made you buck your hips as you struggled to talk, gasping for air when Azriel yanked the wet gag out of your mouth. “Speak now or forever hold your peace.”

“I like it. I like it and I shouldn’t but I do,” You rambled, chest heaving with each word. “I’m a dirty slut who liked it just please, please fucking touch me. I’m begging you. I need it.”

Azriel mulled over your words, the shadow pressing more firmly on your clit. You knew if he kept going you would cum in no time, your inner walls already clenching as you bit down on your lip to try and control yourself.

“Was that good enough for you, Eris?” Azriel asked, smirking when he saw him already climbing up the end of the bed. “Or should we make her beg more?”

“No, no, please!” You nearly cried, ignoring the burn from your bonded hands and feet as you tried to get up. “I promise I’ll be good, I promise. I’ll do whatever you want just please touch me.”

You flinched when Azriel’s fingers tilted your head to look at him, his eyes drinking in your tear-stained cheeks and flushed face. He studied you for what felt like forever before bending down until his forehead was touching yours. “You’re ours now, little mouse.”

Eris’s hot, wet tongue licked up your cunt as you were staring at Azriel and it made you cry out in pleasure, taken off guard as he latched onto your clit and started sucking on it roughly.

It was too much sensation at once and with how worked up you were, you already felt yourself teetering on the edge. Azriel seemed to realize as he crawled beside you and pinned your arms to the bed, Eris’s fire disappearing instantly. “Don’t you dare fucking cum, whore. You have to be given permission.”

“I can’t-” You choked, your hips grinding down as Eris moved down to circle the tip of his tongue over your hole. “I can’t hold it! Please!”

“I said no,” Azriel growled, fingers digging painfully into the soft skin of your arms. “Stuff her full of my cum, prince. Claim her for me.”

Your brows furrowed in confusion until you watched as Eris pulled away from your sopping wet cunt, a small string of saliva following him, and spat Azriel’s cum onto your pussy. The sight of it had your toes curling as Eris gave you a devilish smile, sliding two fingers down your lips, collecting the cum, and then shoving them roughly inside you.

“Oh, fuck!” You yelped as he fucked his lover’s cum into you, his fingers curling with each thrust before he went back to licking and biting your clit. It was the hottest thing you had ever seen and you almost sobbed when Azriel pinned your hips down to keep you still.

All you could do was lay there and take it, desperately trying to fend off your orgasm as Azriel whispered in your ear, “Take it like the dirty slut you are mouse. Feel his thick fingers inside of you, fucking my cum into you.”

“She tastes so fucking, mmph-” Eris growled into your pussy, his amber eyes glowing like embers as he looked up at you. “So fucking good.”

“I bet she does, I can smell how sweet she is,” Azriel said, his fingers dancing down your body until he got to your breasts. “And look at how beautiful these are…just waiting to be marked up.”

He gave your right nipple a harsh smack at the same time Eris sucked your clit again, the pain and pleasure mixing in a toxic wave of lust. They had you seeing stars and they were just getting started.

“Please, Azriel, Eris, please let me cum,” You begged, your bottom lip quivering as your legs shook with the effort to contain it. “I’ll be good, I’ll be a good girl.”

“You’re so cute when you beg like that, Y/N.” Azriel praised, goosebumps rising on your skin as his breath blew softly onto your neck. “So pretty, such a good whore. Do you think she should cum, Eris?”

Eris pulled back, ignoring your whimpers as he rose to his knees and pulled Azriel into a heated kiss so that he could taste your juices on his tongue. You huffed out angrily, nearly ready to stomp your feet as you felt your orgasm fade into nothing due to the lack of stimulation.

“Is my pet throwing a fit? Did you not already get enough attention?” Eris cooed, turning to watch you as Azriel kissed down his neck and palmed his cock until the High Lord was bucking into his hand. “Are you, ah, are you that needy?”

“Of course she is, look at her.” Azriel mocked, sucking a large hickey onto the column of his throat before he pushed him back roughly. Eris landed beside you, his hair splaying out beautifully as the Illyrian roughly picked you up and had you bending over the edge of the bed. “Suck his cock, mouse. Make him cry for you.”

You did not need to be told twice, your mouth hungrily kissing his inner thighs and trailing up to his dripping member. It was thick and long, the tip red and begging for you to pay it attention. He let out a small groan as you kissed and licked the head of him, swirling your tongue round and round before a sharp smack landed on your ass.

“I said to suck his cock not tease him, little whore.” Azriel ordered, letting another spank hit your clit this time which made you moan. You nodded, eyes focusing on Eris as you took him all the way to his pubic hair. It tickled your nose as you watched the redhead lurch forward, his hands immediately flying to your head to hold you still as he rutted upwards.

“Stars above, that feels amazing,” He moaned, looking over you to Azriel who was stroking himself to the sight. You began to choke and only then did he finally let you go, his thumb reaching out to wipe away the mascara that was now smeared under your eyes. “Again.”

He gave you no time to prepare as he roughly shoved himself down your throat once more, his mouth hanging open in ecstasy as you did your best to breathe through your nose. You cupped his balls in your hand, rolling them around, which only spurred Eris on further.

“Who knew you were such a good cocksucker, Y/N?” Azriel chimed from behind you, stepping forward to rub his hard cock through your folds. Each time he bumped against your clit it made you lurch back, trying to get him to enter you. “Maybe that should be your new title, hm? Just for us.”

“Only for us.” Eris echoed. “Fuck I’m going to cum.”

“Paint her face. Mark her in your cum.” Azriel growled, savoring the way you were both lost in your own pleasure as Eris suddenly pulled out of your mouth to spurt onto your face. You closed your eyes and took it, loving the way they were being so filthy with you before you moaned when you felt Azriel enter you from behind.

“So fucking tight,” He gritted out as he fucked you wildly like a beast taking his bitch. Your whole body was jerking forward and all you could do was look at Eris, your eyes heavy-lidded as he swiped some of his cum off your face and held it out for you to taste.

You sucked his finger in greedily, enjoying the salty taste of him as he smirked back at how corrupted you had become. However, as soon as Az hit that spot deep inside you, you let go of his digit to let out a loud, whorish groan.

“Don’t stop, please don’t stop!” You cried out, looking back to watch him pound into you from behind. With every brush over that spot, you felt your orgasm building once more, your walls clenching tightly around him which made him hiss through his teeth.

“You wanna cum on his cock, pet? Do you deserve it?” Eris teased, placing two fingers under your chin to force you to look at him. “Do you think you deserve to cum on his cock?”

“Yes, mmm, I do,” You pant, moaning into his mouth when he kisses you sloppily. He tasted of warm spices and Azriel, the combination intoxicating as your tongues swirled together. It made your already wet cunt wetter. “I’ve been good.”

Azriel grabbed your hips harshly, making sure to leave bruises on them as he felt his orgasm racing up his spine. His balls started to tighten and he couldn’t stop himself even if he wanted as he spilled into you, your orgasm following swiftly behind as you came and came and came.

Your entire body shook with the force of it as you all but collapsed onto Eris’s thighs, your ass still up in the air as Azriel continued to thrust shallowly into you. He grinned as some of his cum leaked out the side of your union, watching it fall onto the bed.

“You made such a mess, little mouse,” Azriel noted as he reluctantly pulled out, scooping his oozing cum and shoving it back inside your sensitive hole. You whined, trying to move away but Eris forced you to stay still as the Spymaster continued to toy with your sex. “And you came without permission.”

“I-what? But you-” You mumbled, lifting your head to turn and gaze at him. “Eris said…”

“I only asked the question, pet. I never permitted you.” He said sweetly, brushing the hair out of your eyes as you swallowed in fear. “You should know better.”

“It’s alright, prince.” Azriel smiled, flipping you over forcefully before appearing over you. “We have plenty of time to teach her how to behave.”

The last thing you saw was Azriel’s hazel eyes before his shadows circled your head, blinding you as Eris chuckled into the night air. You sucked in a breath when you felt those fiery bonds return once more, locking you to the bed as they both set to work on your punishment.

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pursuitseternal · 18 days

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𝓢𝓮𝓿𝓮𝓷 𝓓𝓮𝓿𝓲𝓵𝓲𝓼𝓱 𝓢𝓲𝓷𝓼: "𝓔𝓷𝓿𝔂" 💚

Raphael x f!Reader | E | 2.5 K

Summary: His beloved little mouse, someone dared to touch you, to call you names as he forges a contract with the new Archdevil of Avernus… While the client suffers his own fate, you bear the brunt of Raphael’s possessive nature, the full force of his envy…

CW: name calling, possessive protective Raphael, murder by terms and conditions, cunnilingus, body worship, rough marking smut

Ao3 Link | Masterlist

Lush fruits, roasting meats, even the most sensual of incense fill his halls tonight. The House of Hope hasn’t been such a sumptuous venue since you arrived as the consort of the Archdevil of Avernus… Just the thought of your lover… wait, Master, you correct your thoughts… The single thought of him makes your skin hot, and you are hot enough as it is, the fires of Avernus seep their inferno through the walls of his House. You can feel it waft in shimmering waves, the hellish heat that is always present. The floor is warm under your bare feet as you walk towards the dining hall, the exposed skin of your arms, legs, and midriff shine with sweat as you adjust the scarlet top and skirt, the material is loose and flowy and just opaque enough to hide what little skin it covers.

But for as steamy as your body feels, the pure silver pitcher in your hand is ice cold—charmed that way to keep the fruited wine inside just right. A rich dark red vintage mixed with oranges, pomegranates and of course… cherries. Raphael is fond of the taste, but he’s more fond of the way this cocktail helps convince simple-minded mortals to accept his deals.

Tonight’s guests are particularly choice prey, nobility eager to ensure their power and desperate for sm heir to continue their line. A familiar tale, even in your short tenure as Devil’s plaything, you’ve seen more virtuous beings part with their souls for far less.

The music grows louder as you enter the room, and instantly his sharp brown eyes lock on your figure. That corner of his lip quirks as you saunter right for him, for his seat at the rounded table laden with every sinful decadence the House of Hope can create. Your breath catches to see him, those prongs of his crown nestle so neatly in his dark hair. He says nothing as you fill his golden chalice first, the Master of the House must have his needs met before all others of course. A wave of his expressive arm, and he dismisses you to serve the company. Dulcet and engrossing in tone, Raphael waxes on about the vintage you pour, a simple annecdote to fill the silence and keep the mortals from wondering just what they consume in the house of a Devil.

You stop beside the most regal guest… a king, you think, given the crown and jeweled rings on his hand. “My, my, Archdevil. You lay out a variable feast for our consumption, and yet you save the main course until now…” Oh, that king’s voice is sweeter than jelly candy and smoother than silks from Comyr. His ice blue eyes reel you in, a strange swirl of colors you stare into to discern the exact shade. He taps a jeweled finger on the rim of his empty cup. “Come, come wench, don’t leave me waiting…”

“Wench?” Raphael’s stirling tones ring with command… and a hint of annoyance, you recognize. “Hardly,” he chuckles, “she is my most prized of trophies save the metal atop my own regal crown.”

As you pour the fragrant wine, you feel a tug at the thin fabric of your skirt, just enough to catch your attention and distract you. You stare at the king with wide eyes, a parted mouth. And you spill the wine, red liquid sloshing over table cloth and onto the royal lap of Rapheal’s client.

He hisses in anger, snatching fingers claw around your wrist. “Careful, whore.” The words enrage you, insult you. But that’s not what sets your heart thumping.

It’s the glare you feel from Raphael’s seat, the seer of his anger and disapproval. “Oh, little mouse. How clumsy…” Words meant to dismiss the mistake only cement the rush of fear… you turn to force yourself to meet his gaze of judgment, even as the guest fumes about the mess continually.

“Is this how you treat with nobility, Devil? Soil their trousers?” The king scoffs, grabbing a napkin and waving it in your face. “Clean it, wench.”

A silence falls on the room, even the musicians stop. But you can hear a ragged breath, almost whistling in your ear. Raphael leans against the back of his chair. “I suppose, if my little mouse has made such a mistake, she will have to atone for it…”

He gives you a nod, but only you know how irate he is, how desperately close he is to losing that precious control. His eyes hone in on your hand as you grab the white linen and rub it on the king’s thigh.

“Harder, mouse,” the king purloins your pet name, “don’t miss a spot.” He chuckles as you have to press over his crotch, as you must inadvertently tease on the outline of his cock through the damp trousers.

“Oh, now I might consider selling my soul to produce an heir,” the king taunts as you draw yourself up. “Throw in this delightful female as a broodmare, and I’ll give you anything you ask for, Raphael…”

“Unfortunately, such matters must be negotiated separately…” Raphael shrugs, snapping his fingers to present the contract, its glowing infernal letters shimmering in the dim light as it steals the attention of the king. “Now, I really must see to the proper reeducation of my little mouse. You don’t worry another moment about this, your majesty. Just… sign your contract, and you’ll have everything you desire.” One of his hands grabs your arm, the other waves to the musicians to continue their performance.

Outwardly, he's the image of calm, self-control incarnate, but by the way his fingers already grip with bruising force into the flesh of your upper arm, you know this is about to spiral, desperately, maybe even dangerously, out of control.

He glances once more over his shoulder to see the king throw back the rest of his wine in one swig, quill in his hand as he dashes a frilled and curly signature on the contract. Then, Raphael leads you into his entry hall, the whispers of souls far more tortured than you tickle your ear.

But you love this torture. Crave it even.

He leads you to the massive expanse of glass on the opposite wall, the view of the hells just on the other side. He draws you to a stop, standing stock still beside you, hand still vice-gripped into your arm. “What do you see, my dear?” he whispers, a flourishing wave of his hand.

“Avernus,” you reply. Easy.

That infernal strength floods his body, his deceptively human body. Fingers close around your chin, his body spinning you by your jaw, shoving your scantily clad body against the thickly paned glass. “Wong, little mouse,” he chuckles, slow and staccato. His face presses into yours, his other hand teasing the fabric off the few parts of your body it covers until you are naked. “Shall I enlighten you, or do you wish to answer again?” he croons, voice low and dangerous, his free hand wandering over your soft skin and tracing the edges of your body.

“Your kingdom?” you give your answer more hesitantly. “Your domain?”

That pearly, blunt-toothed grin draws even closer until his lips whisper against yours. “I’ll accept your pitiable answer, but yes… what you see out there is mine… just like that idiot’s soul is also mine….” His hand eases from your chin, ghosting its hot touch lower to cup your breast, to knead it in his palm. “Just as you… dear little mouse… are mine.”

Your heartbeat races, his body cages you in against the warm glass window. “I’m sorry, Master, I didn’t mean to spill or embarrass you…”

He lifts his head from where he’s peppering your neck with small, searing kisses. “Sorry?” The words hangs in the air. “My dear, it is not you who must be, or will be, sorry.” A wicked grin on his saturnine face, and he captures your hand, still sticky from fragrant wine, and one by one he sucks your fingers clean. “You do know how fiercely a devil guards his treasure? More possessive than dragons, more tyrannous than the pitiful rulers of the mortal realms…” His tongue is searing, almost scalding your digits as his tongue wriggles around them to cleanse every inch. “And when we feel our treasure is threatened or… despoiled… we can’t help but need to protect it, to claim it anew.”

He lifts his crowned head, those deep-set eyes roaming over your exposed flesh with unabashed hunger and possessiveness, just as his silver tongue had said. “You are my treasure,” he growls, “and every inch of you is mine, inside and out, body and heart and soul.” Palms cup your face. “That king dared insult you, dared to command you, to touch my treasure…”

A shriek pierces the din from the dining hall, a death rattle of agony, a cry of grief. And another shining green soul flies past you to join Raphael’s powerful collection in his House.

A single brow raises as reality dawns on you… Raphael’s rolling laughter caresses your ear even as his lips kiss your neck. “If only that king had reread his contract before signing. I saw it fit to add a few addendums… just because he touched what was mine, that contemptuous creature. His soul is mine, effective immediately. Mortals are so easy to wrap around my fingers and catch in my claws. But not you….”

His self-satisfaction is boiling over, his body crushing you back against the warm window, thigh slotting against the apex of your trembling legs. Those brown eyes flicker with hellfire, the light of envy, of pride and possession raging red hot inside him. “You, my fascinating little mouse, are the one mortal who has captured my attention so thoroughly and given this old fox the merriest of chases. You are different, special. I spent hours watching you, wanting you.”

Thumbs stroke your cheeks, soft and soothing. “I watched tears roll down your face when you were alone, when you suffered the inevitable losses your peril provided.”

Raphael places a tender kiss on the backs of your knuckles. “I have watched the delicate digits, these fair fingers vivisect your foes, a glorious wake of carnage along your path…” He lowers himself, kneeling before you, a trail of searing, open-mouthed kisses down your neck and through the valley of your breasts. “I watched with chagrin as you bound these gorgeous breasts and shielded your body in cold, unfeeling, unyielding armor…” Nails, blunted and manicured, scratched lightly down your sides, tickling you, making you shiver. “With abject horror…. With the fiercest jealousy I have ever felt in my millennia of existence, I was subjected to watching you be wooed and touched and fucked by inferior males and females…”

You swallow your curses as his fingers slip right inside the wet heat of your folds. Knees buckle. Your belly clenches, an extra rush of warmth and blood into your swollen, velvet cunt as he fucks his fingers in… and out. Your walls clench around those long digits, even his human form has skin that is blistering hot. Even inside you, in your core that blazes as an inferno, he is always hotter.

But it’s not enough for either of you. A grumbling growl from his chest, he pulls his fingers from you, sucking them clean. Then, he lifts your leg, thigh over his shoulder so he can feast. He works his tongue deep inside your channel, heated kisses and sucks on your clit drive you tumbling towards the abyss of pleasure. It’s almost too much… almost.

Then, he speaks. “I starved myself every time another lover was allowed to taste you, to savor your nectar or drink your blood. I made myself mad with want for you…” All his want sweeps you away now, the object of his longing speared on his fingers as he devours your cunt. Your back arches against the widow, hips riding his tongue and touch as he steals your breath like he stole your soul…

That damned silver tongue. Hands grip your ass cheeks, trapping you in his mouth. “Would you like to come, sweet little mouse?” his words are muffled by your folds.

“Yes, please Master…”

“Louder,” he commands. “So the rest of that royal wretch’s retinue can hear for what sins he sealed his fate…”

A whimper escapes you, “Please, Master…” you dare to brace a hand in his hair, that tip of his head encircled by his crown. “Please,” another desperate whine tumbles from your parted lips.

“Mmm, such sweet sounds, such mellifluous music as you crescendo to your inevitable climax…” his swells of laughter vibrate inside you. Lips wrap around your clit and suck, only to then feel the blunt-edged bite of his teeth. That slice of pain sends you over the edge, an explosion of heat and shaking muscles, you come on his tongue. Your arm almost knocks his crown askew, the spasms from your walls wracking their way to the tips of your fingers as you claw into his hair. It’s all you can do, leaning against the window to catch your breath, hips rolling their last waves of orgasm on his tongue as he cleans you, overstimulating you.

Raphael sits back on his heels, the Archdevil at your feet, and he kisses the back of your hand once more. “After all this time, no one will ever doubt you are mine. Mine to covet, mine to order, mine to fuck… mine to envy.”

He rises quickly to his feet, parting your thighs, gripping hard against your thigh to open your cunt. Your walls still flutter as he grinds his clothes erection against you. Fingers release his cock, that blunted tip coaxing its way inside you. “Since you’re mine… let’s make it obvious to whom you belong my little one,” he growls, pushing inside you at an agonizingly slow pace. But that breath of gentleness is all he gives you. Snapping his hips, he ruts, he pounds you against the glass. Every thrust brings a snarl, his melodic voice rough as he growls against your lips.

You pant and sigh and twitch, overstimulated and yet craving more. You grip him, hands on his back, where you can almost feel the eruption of his heat and power straining beneath his mortal-looking shell. His back ripples as if his true Cambion form threatens to burst through any second, releasing those great leathery wings. Those nubs push on your palm, his control slipping ever so slightly as he comes, his hot seed staining your insides, nearly boiling your walls as he snarls and snaps his rutting hips into you.

“Mine,” he rumbles one final time before he pulls from you. A snap of his fingers and his whole ensemble is set aright, canting crown in place, clothing buttoned and immaculate. While you… your dress is torn, your breasts exposed, your cunt leaking down your thighs. And Raphael just smiles. “I think our guests will need another round of drink, my dear. See to it,” he orders, waving to your silver pitcher as it appears refilled at your feet.

#raphael the cambion #raphael baldur's gate 3 #raphael x reader #raphael x tav #raphael x you #bg3 raphael #raphael bg3 #raphael smut #bg3 #bg3 smut #baldursgate3 #baldur’s gate iii #baldurs gate smut #baldur’s gate 3

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allfryam · 9 months

Text

the basement

Austin was your average man in his twenties. He was 6 foot, with short brown hair that sat nicely on his head. His brown eyes and friendly smile made him quite attractive. He had an average build, with a few pounds added to his midsection over the last few years. He wasn’t fat by any means, however. He just looked filled out. He owned a small home in Kentucky and he lived alone. He lived in a small college town with Frankfort university being right next to his house. Austin lived a quiet life. Apart from his secret.

Austin’s house had a basement. The kind you would see in one of those cheesy horror movies with spiderwebs and cement floors. It was cold and dingy, but Austin liked it. He used it for activities different from normal basement activities though. Currently, he had 4 men tied up and blindfolded down there. He would walk over to the college and find a man that had passed out from being too drunk, and he would walk them back to his house. But Austin didn’t just want to kidnap them. He wanted to feed them. He wanted to watch them grow and moan with pleasure as he shoved food down their throats.

each of the four men ranged in different sizes. Man number one was Austin’s most recent captive. He had only been here for about a week. He had a nice body, but you could tell Austin’s feedings were starting to catch up. There was a slight paunch growing on his midsection and his thighs were looking a bit bigger than usual. He complained the most. He often cried and begged to be released. Austin usually shut him up with more food. Austin likes to leave his captives clothes on so he could watch them get tighter. He noticed number one’s belt starting to look tight. man number 2 had been there for a couple months now. He had a proper gut that sat like a ball in his lap. He looked like he had been working on this for at least ten years, but he was quite skinny when he arrived. Austin was worried he wouldn’t gain any weight, but his feedings always worked. Austin made sure that each captive received at least 10,000 calories a day. His shirt no longer covered his belly. It had grown tight enough to rise over his belly button, letting his gut hang loose. His pants button had popped off a few weeks ago and number two was relieved. It felt good to let his belly have room to grow. man number three had been there for almost a year. He was big. His round gut almost covered his enormous thighs, and his moobs sat nicely on top. His fingers even started to get a little chunky. This guy was quite hairy, so Austin called him bear. Bear never complained. He did was he was told and ate every bite that Austin gave him. His pants had ripped and fallen off a while ago. Austin noticed bear would get a boner every time he got fed. Bear’s face would grow red from embarrassment, but Austin liked it. He would never tell any of them, but bear was his favorite. man number four was the biggest. He had been there for almost three years, and you could tell. His enourmous belly hung low and spread across his chubby legs. His fat arms looked like baby hippos and his fingers looked like sausages. His fat face had at least three chins and chubby cheeks. When the room was silent, all you could hear was number four’s shallow breathing. Austin was surprised number four was still alive. Most of his victims had died after a year or two but number four just kept growing. He received the biggest portions of food. He ate over 20,000 calories every single day. Austin didn’t even have to tie him up anymore. He could barely move his arms and legs. Austin left his enormous naked body laid on the ground, belly in the air.

Austin enjoyed his little crew. He thought of them as family. And he couldn’t wait for them to keep growing. Especially number one. Austin was excited about him.

There will definitely be a part 2 to this story later this week. thank you guys again for all of the support on the weight gain drive!

#fat #fat belly #fatty #gaining fat #chubby #fat gut #fatty piggy #gaining #gaining weight #getting bigger #force fed #captivity

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where-is-vivian · 4 months

Note

Can I request Rosekiller Stalker Evan falling in love with Businessman Barty

oh damn that's a fire prompt. I might need to do a whole one shot... also I think I might know who you are :) but thank you anon for this very good suggestion.

ROSEKILLER. STALKER EVAN, BUSINESSMAN BARTY. 2,5K words. UNRELIABLE NARRATOR. RATED MATURE?

He was always the last one to leave the building.

Evan had been sitting outside, under the heavy pouring rain, for the past three hours. With his black rain coat, he looked almost invisible in the night. The city lights were lighting the street, and reflecting their white and yellow lights in the poodles of water on the floor. Once in a while, one of the many people who were walking by were shooting him weird glances, but too many people were walking by him to care anyway. Most of them were probably wondering why a young boy like him was staying outside with this weather.

But he was ready to stay outside all night, if it meant having a chance to see him when he would exit the building to go back to his apartment, 3 on *** Street, apartment 65, 5tth floor. Barty was the head of the company, and yet, he was always leaving before his employees. Somehow, Evan hadn’t managed to get what sort of company it was exactly.

Several times, he had found himself reading things on the company’s website that were odd, and when he had compared the data of year-end financial reports, he hadn’t been able to connect the numbers. And yet Evan was very good at math. Officially, the company was helping large fortunes to manage their funds.

A rain drop ran down his forehead, making him blink. Suddenly the last light of the building, the one that had been left in Barty’s office, turned off. Evan blinked a second time. The building had big windows, glass covering the entire surface of it, allowing anyone from outside to see inside.

Evan had seen many things when watching Barty’s office, from this very spot he hadn’t moved from since he started observing Barty from afar. He had seen him sleep on his desk. He had seen him look outside, sometimes look down to him, unsuspecting. He had seen him fuck. Several times, Evan had witnessed Barty getting fucked against the window of his office — he had concluded he had a voyeurism kink, or something like that.

Every single time it had happened, Evan had wished it was him who was fucking Barty against the window, for everyone to see. He would have made him his. He had hated these moment as much as he had enjoyed it; seeing his man getting touched by other people had been a hard sight, but he hadn’t been able to not get hard. And he hadn’t been able to stop himself to think about it again and again and again every time he had been alone again.

He had gotten rid of those people anyway. So none of them would ever touch his Barty ever again.

Just thinking about it, the satisfaction it had been to kill those nasty men, barely vessels for a soul, couldn’t be qualified of men truly, Evan smiled. He would kill as many as needed, until he would be the only one for him.

That night, Barty didn’t even glance in his direction, as usual, and Evan stood up from the bench he had been sitting on for hours to follow him to his car. Sitting on this bench was hurting like crazy and he was probably leaving a mark on it with how regularly he was sitting there, but it was always worth it when he got to see Barty, in his grey suit, hair wet and slicked back — he was always lazily passing a hand through it, unaware of how crazy it drove Evan —, jaw clenched and walking with decided steps to his black car.

Barty wasn’t even minding the rain. Neither was Evan. The latter followed to the parking, and then he simply hid behind a cement column, watching him get inside his car, like he did every day.

(weeks later...)

The drawstrings on the hood of his black sweatshirt were bouncing on his chest as he walked, taking care to not walk too fast. Barty was walking in front of him, a few steps ahead, his back turned to him.

He was vulnerable. Evan knew exactly when Barty was vulnerable. He had been observing him for months now. Several times, yes, he had thought about grabbing him, and bringing him back to his own apartment — that had nothing to do with Barty’s, by the way. Evan’s place was always more or less messy, and as he never opened the windows, a musty smell was always floating in the air. He was leaving finished cups of instant noodles around, and he was never changing his sheets, postponing laundry all the time. But for Barty, he’d make an effort. He’d clean a bit. Change the sheets. Buy something else than cup noodles.

He had thought about it several times; Evan was taller than Barty, so it wouldn’t be too hard, and he didn’t seem to have any family, or any relatives close to him that could get worried for him. Oh, of course, he was the head of his company, and he spent most of his time there, but would people really make a big deal out of it? Evan had figured out his company’s business was some sort of shell company, so they wouldn’t claim too loudly that they had issues, or else press would get their nose in their dirty clothes. Maybe they’d send people, their own people, the mafia perhaps.

But Evan knew that he was better than them. He knew everything about them. He would beat them at their game, without a single doubt. He knew the emplacement and the operating hours of every single camera in the area; he knew the timetables of half of their staff. He had estimated what sort of budget they could have left undeclared that they could potentially use to search for their CEO, though this last one, it was only a personal estimation. He knew the number plates of all of their vehicles; Evan had always been good with numbers and memorising them in specific orders. He knew exactly where they wouldn’t be able to find them. So even if they tried to find Barty by themselves, it wouldn’t stop Evan.

No, really, the only reason Evan hadn’t locked Barty in his two-room apartment yet, was that he liked the chase too much. He wanted it to last. As long as possible. And he liked the thrill of knowing that Barty could slip through his fingers at any time… though he knew more about Barty than the latter knew himself. If Barty decided to disappear now, it would have to be the most sudden and organised thing he had ever done in his entire life.

He liked seeing Barty in his field, in his environment, looking hot and clueless, so far and yet so close to him. Evan was into that. He craved him more than anything; but he was taking a sick satisfaction in seeing him unaware of him lurking in his shadow, calculating every next move he would do. He was the only focus in Evan’s life; to Evan’s complete satisfaction.

People dodged Evan, who was only looking at Barty, piercing a hole in his back with his eyes, with how heavily he was staring. Barty could probably feel his gaze, at this point.

Slowly, the streets Barty was walking through, was passing by to get to his unknown destination, were getting less and less crowded, until he walked in a rather large dead end, only lit by one big tired neon light hanging on the crusty wall. It was blinking, and since the dead end was rather long and large, almost as large as the main street, Evan walked in, taking the risk to have to face Barty for following all this time.

Barty stopped. So did Evan, his steps sounding annoyingly too loud against the ground. Barty did not turn around; maybe he hadn’t heard him yet. Was it now? Was it now that Evan was taking his chance? Bringing him to his apartment? They were too far away. It was better if Evan ran away quickly before Barty could see his face.

He didn’t get to do this.

“Crouch, we have the money. Do you—” The voice stopped. A hand suddenly passed in front of Evan’s eyes, and an arm constricted his throat. The hand ended on his mouth, stopping him from screaming or saying any word. Quickly he was fully immobilised. Oh, maybe it was now. Not the now he had meant when he walked in this dead end a few seconds ago, but still. Maybe it was now the end, maybe they were going to get rid of him.

Money? An arm around his throat, holding him in place? Nobody safe was doing that on a first meeting. He was maybe going to get killed. In front of Barty. Even when he tried to grab the arm, Evan found himself completely helpless, unable to get himself out of the grip. He hadn’t even seen that person arrive. He didn’t know who it was, but they were strong. He was getting weaker as the grip was getting stronger, and he was feeling his limbs go numb.

What kind of meeting was this?

Barty slowly turned around, hands in his pockets, shoulders relaxed, and he looked at Evan for a long time before speaking, finally.

“Let go of him.”

Nobody moved. Evan’s chest raised slowly, up and down, as he refused to look away from Barty. We was a true sight, as always. Evan wouldn’t have minded dying here, but he didn’t die that day.

“Who is he?” The man behind Evan, in his back, said. “Do you know him?”

Evan glanced at Barty defiantly.

“You wouldn’t want someone to die tonight, would you? This exchange isn’t supposed to be a blood bath,” Barty shrugged, a smirk at the corner of his lips, rolling his eyes playfully.

This made the man behind Evan consider it quietly for a few seconds, before letting go of Evan, suddenly releasing him, which lead to Evan fall on the floor, blood slowly coming back to his legs and arms. He coughed, feeling pathetic.

“Good,” Barty lowly said.

Evan looked up. Barty was looking down at him, still with his little smirk. Then he took a sort of USB key from his pocket, and he added:

“You said you have the money?”

From behind him, Evan heard some clicking noises. He was too confused to consider everything around him; at this exact moment, he just wondered how he could have not predicted this, and how he hadn’t had a single clue about anything that was happening around him.

At some point Barty was handed a case, and he handed the key in return.

He nodded slightly. “Good. You can go now.”

“What are you going to do with this man?”

“I’m going to deal with him,” Barty replied, looking back down at Evan who was still catching his breath on the floor — the man’s grip was no joke —, a crooked smile on his lips. “Don’t worry about him,” He added, looking back up.

The men behind Evan left. After a minute, Barty crouched down to Evan’s level. Evan was still unable to speak, as if his vocal cords had been irremediably crushed.

“You thought I didn’t see you follow me there?” He said, the first words he ever addressed to him.

Evan opened his mouth, but no sound came out of it. He decided to give up on words, and instead he defiantly shrugged at him. It made Barty’s downward smile grow bigger.

“Thought I didn’t see you all this time?”

Evan wondered what he meant. He couldn’t think straight; it was the first time he was seeing him from this close. He was beautiful. He was leaning in Evan’s personal space as if it was natural.

Mechanically, Evan shook his head, though he didn’t even remember the question.

Barty reached for his face, patting his head, running his fingers through Evan’s locks. “Your hair was messy,” He said, sliding his finger to his jawline, tracing it, before lifting his chin. A chill ran down Evan’s spine. He was hypnotised, like he had never been hypnotised before. “I hate when they’re too brutal,” He concluded, as if it was an absolutely normal conclusion to come to. “Come here,” He said, as he stood up, holding out his hand to him.

Evan took his hand, and stood up. He felt dizzy for a second, before regaining his full composure.

He was still holding Barty’s hand, when he pushed him against the nearest wall, with the intention to make him pass out, to give himself some time to run away. He was upset. He had missed his chance; he felt like months of following him had just been thrown away. Would he be able to stay away from him? His one and only obsession? Now, everything was ruined.

Barty’s back hit the wall brutally, and he did not even wince. He smirked. Swiftly, as if he was doing this every day, he somehow got his hands out of Evan’s grip, and quickly grabbed drawstrings on the hood of his sweatshirt, to wrap them around Evan’s neck. He expertly tightened the drawstrings, making Evan strangled for the second time in very little time.

Evan heard a smirk in Barty’s voice, though he couldn’t fully see his face anymore because his hood was falling in front of his eyes. “Easy, easy, easy. Easy there,” He almost chuckled. “Do you really want to die tonight, or what?”

Sighing, Evan stopped resisting, and brought his hands, clumsily, panicked, to his throat, trying to loosen the drawstrings around his neck. Barty released him, before pushing him away a little.

Evan tried to say something; his voice, hoarse, came out of his throat like a croak. He coughed a bit again.

“I don’t want to die tonight,” He ended up saying, his mind blank. His brain was probably not getting enough blood, which lead to the most out of pocket answers; he would never have answered that if he had had his full capacity.

Barty smiled more. “Good,” And then, he held out his hand, as Evan was still holding his throat.

Evan looked up. “What?” He hoarsely replied.

“Come here.”

Hesitantly, Evan took his hand, his other hand still on his throat.

“Don’t be so shy,” Barty smirked as soon as they were holding hands. “Aren’t you my biggest fan? No need to get nervous. I know you weren’t when you kept watching me for months, or if you had felt any shame at any point, you would have stopped. Right, you would have?”

Evan almost blushed. “I didn’t feel any shame.”

They intensely stared at each other; Barty was still smirking; Evan hadn’t imagined him to be smiling so much. And not even in his wildest dreams he was imagining him smile at him like that.

Barty started walking again.

“Where are we going?” Evan asked blandly.

“To my place.”

THE END.

#rosekiller #evan rosier #barty crouch jr #rosekiller microfic #rosekiller fic #evan x barty #barty x evan #microfic #marauders #marauders fic #marauders microfic #marauders era #the marauders #dead gay wizards

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oftenwantedafton · 7 months

Text

Indebted - Steve Raglan/William Afton x Female Reader

Rating - Explicit

Warnings - no explicit content in this chapter

Also available on AO3

The night you meet him begins like any other.

You’re walking home from your job at the small convenience store that’s one of the few surviving businesses in this less populated part of town. You always cut through the parking lot of the shuttered pizzeria that’s rumored to be haunted because it shaves some time off your trip and you really just want to get home and take a shower and collapse into bed. You don’t believe in ghosts anyway.

You become aware of the footsteps just as you step into the rear parking lot of the abandoned restaurant. Their pacing is casual, unhurried. You move a little faster along the cracked asphalt and the sounds of your pursuer intensify. You are definitely being followed.

A quick glance over your shoulder. Difficult to see in the darkness, but it’s a large shape. You hear panting. Your hand slips inside of your purse and you reach for your keys, slotting each piece of metal between your fingers. Apartment door, deadbolt, employee locker. An improvised weapon.

Your stalker is getting closer.

There’s still too much of the vacant lot ahead of you. You’re too far from any immediate signs of civilization to seek help. You can barely make out the indentation of a door in the rear of the building. You quickly weigh your options. Was it riskier to remain outdoors or try to find a place to hide inside?

You choose the latter, abruptly turning and shoving your body weight forward, relieved to find the entrance is unlocked. A curse behind you. Definitely a man’s voice. You let the door swing shut and try to move forward as quickly as possible in the foreign space. You’re surprised to find it’s dimly lit, an eerie red glow from what must be emergency lighting. Someone must have forgotten to shut off the supply of electricity when the facility had closed. You see a series of doors on the inner wall, trying the first one and finding it locked. Another, also locked. The door that had granted you access to the interior opens and closes behind you. You try to swallow your rising panic, not daring to waste time glancing at the man again. Your hand reaches towards a third handle, never getting the chance to make contact as it swings open from the inside.

There is something there, in the darkness.

Twin pinpoints of light high above you. They almost look like eyes. One of the animatronics? You recoil instantly, your back striking the wall, your purse jostled from your shoulder. Your keys are still clutched in your hand, palm sweating. You can smell the metal.

You hear a loud footstep. Whatever was inside that room across from you is now leaving it. Moving closer, into the grim crimson light. The weight of that tred terrifies you. It’s not the sound of a man but a machine. Another step. Hydraulics. Gears moving. Steel kissing cement. The shape reveals itself. A rabbit. A seven foot tall rabbit that looks like it’s seen better days. Ominous dark holes gaping in the suit. Wires jutting from exposed areas. Part of one ear missing. The rows of teeth in the headpiece bared in a permanent rictus grin, the material that had once been covered in fur decaying, giving the appearance of a rotting corpse.

Heavy breathing and normal footsteps now. Your pursuer has finally caught up to you.

You feel the breeze as the rabbit’s arm swings in the direction of the man. A surprised grunt of pain. The sound of something soft being invaded. Slightly damp. You try to creep sideways, the cinderblock outer wall still at your back. Another wet thud and a gurgling groan. Your would be assailant’s heavy body hits the floor.

The rabbit’s head swivels to regard you. The hand holding the keys trembles violently but you manage a shaky swipe in the air in front of you, a rehearsal for the scratches you’re going to attempt. A dry chuckle resonates from within the figure.

“Is that any way to thank your savior? Not that you’d be able to do any damage with that. Pitiful.”

Your arm lowers but you keep the keys clenched at the ready. “What…what happened to…”

“No longer part of this mortal coil.” The voice sounds modulated. A human speaking inside the suit? But how? What was he doing here? You realize what the suited person has just told you. “You killed him?”

“Of course. Did you think I was going to let someone that reprehensible wander in my property?”

His property? He owns Freddy’s? “You knew him?”

He makes an exasperated sound. “Not personally. But I know his type.” A pause. “Now what to do with you, I wonder.” You catch a glint of metal in the dim lighting. The rabbit was holding a knife, stained an ominous color.

“I was just walking home and I heard someone following me and I ducked inside to hide. That’s all. I’ll leave and you’ll never see me again. I…I won’t tell anyone about what happened.” You’re not sure about that last part, but you’re certainly not going to tell this strange creature that you’re ratting him out to the police.

You hear the individual inhale deeply. “So frightened. I’ve missed that scent,” he murmurs softly, then his voice sharpens. “Of course you won’t tell anyone. You’re not going to mention this dead man. You’re certainly never going to tell anyone about me. But as for simply leaving…well, that’s another story.” A brief hum. The rabbit’s head tips to one side. “The way I figure it, I’ve done you a service. Which means you owe me.”

You lick lips that have gone dry. The air is so stale inside the building. “What…what do you want?”

“I haven’t decided yet. A debt to be repaid at a later date, I think. Some night when you’re walking home again, I’ll come to collect.”

“How…”

“Did you think I didn’t notice? Security cameras, silly girl. I know everything that happens here. Everything.” He takes a step closer and you cower against the wall. “The only reason you have breath in your body right now is because you’ve never done any damage. Passing by respectfully.” He kicks at the corpse lying at his feet. “Unlike this wretch here.”

You suddenly feel an overwhelming need to vomit. “Please let me go home,” you whisper.

“Of course. You’re free to leave.”

You take a tentative step forward. Another. The figure beside you is motionless. You give the dead man a wide birth, refusing to look down again after you inadvertently catch a glimpse of a sinister looking pool of dark liquid. You count three doors and move back to the outer wall, heaving a sigh of relief when the door surrenders and you get a lungful of fresh air.

“Wait.”

You freeze. He’d changed his mind. He wasn’t letting you go after all. A cruel taste of freedom.

“You forgot this.”

Something tossed in your direction. Your handbag, the small artificial leather case landing near your feet. You hastily swipe at the strap and settle it back on your shoulder. The mascot encased figure bends and you hear a scraping sound as the body is dragged in the opposite direction, deeper into the shadows, lost from sight. You swallow another wave of nausea and hurriedly exit the building, running the rest of the way home.

***

Everything seems so deceptively normal the next morning.

You wake up and pad barefoot into the kitchen to make coffee. Maybe you’d dreamt the whole thing. Watching too many horror movies before bed. There’s no way something that scary could have been real. You continue denying the events, almost convincing yourself before your eyes fall on your purse siting on the kitchen counter. The white material is stained red. Your stomach lurches. Blood. It had been real.

You slump into the nearest chair. You’d been responsible for a man’s murder last night. Granted, he’d been planning on mugging you, raping you, God only knows what. But still. He was dead. And now you owed a favor to that…that thing in the pizzeria. A man wearing one of the animatronic suits, wandering the darkness.

You don’t want to think about what kind of dark desire a person like that might have.

He’d murdered the man so effortlessly. Without remorse. You knew somehow this wasn’t his first victim. He’s killed before. Many times.

Maybe he was the one responsible for all those missing children.

It was impossible to grow up in Hurricane and not hear the stories. Kids that just vanished into thin air, one after the other. No evidence. No answers. The only common thread the location where they’d last been seen. The news reports announcing the restaurant’s closure. And then nothing. No more missing children. No more anything. Just a building left to rot steeped in a terrible rumored legacy.

You consider going to the police. Your hand reaches for the phone more than once. But you hesitate every time. See the white eyes and the rows of teeth and hear the rusted voice. The implied threat.

You won’t tell anyone.

***

The door to the convenience store chimes as you enter.

You’re grateful you’re working first shift today. At least it will be daylight when you walk home.

You wonder if the sun is really enough to keep the shadowy nightmare of Freddy’s at bay.

“You look like shit. Rough night?” Your coworker quips.

“Yeah, you could say that. Not like that,” you add at the suggestively raised eyebrow. “I just didn’t sleep much.”

The girl smirks, depressing the pricing gun and affixing a sticker to the bag of chips she’s setting on display on the end cap. She reaches for another bag, pausing as she glances towards the entrance. “Looks like your favorite customer is on his way in.”

Your cheeks flush and you turn to see a middle aged man entering the store.

He’s been a regular for several weeks now. Very tall, well over six feet. Lean without being too skinny. Office attire. Graying hair and beard. Glasses that seem the wrong shape for his face, the lenses too large and round. The glimpses of his car in the parking lot reveal he drives an older sedan. He‘s always very polite. His voice was a little odd, a combination of nasal intonation and a harsh rasp like a smoker’s. Except he never purchased cigarettes. It was usually candy or coffee. Sometimes something for lunch. Maybe when he was rushing out the door and didn’t have time to prepare a meal to take with him. No wedding ring. Maybe no wife to pack a lunch for him?

He nods and smiles at you and your stomach somersaults. It was a pleasant change from the nausea you’d been experiencing off and on since last night. He has dimples. Nice even white teeth. He always smells good, like soap and cologne. You know you’re staring and you force yourself to look away, catching the dark grin of your coworker.

You walk to the register, rubbing a thumb absently over a peeling sticker stating the tobacco and alcohol age requirement laws on the counter. Sandwich today. Apple. Chocolate chip cookie. Bottled water. You ring it in. He hands you a folded bill and you admire the fingers pinching that currency. Long and slender, but strong looking. Wide palms. You wonder what it would feel like to have them on you.

You fumble his change out of the drawer. A soft smile that makes your stomach flutter again. He tucks his fingers through the handles of the plastic bag and leaves. You realize he’s left something on the counter. A business card. He’s a career counselor. Steve Raglan. Now you have a name to go with the face. For some reason it feels off. He just doesn’t look like a Steve.

Your fellow employee has emptied the box. She begins to break it down, slicing through the packing tape as she saunters over to the counter. “Well, shit. Looks like your dad crush has a thing for you, too. Go get him, girl.”

You blush again, tucking the card against your palm to hide it from sight.

***

You decide to call Steve Raglan on your lunch break.

The business card is already becoming dog eared, creased from your constant nervous handling. You trace the blue embossing one final time before you dial the sequence of numbers. One ring. Two. A familiar voice on the other line. “This is Steve Raglan. May I help you?”

You wrap the phone cord around your index finger. “Yeah, um, hi. You left your business card on the counter at the Convenience Mart this morning after I rang you up.”

“Ah, yes. The attractive blushing young woman.”

You feel your cheeks grow hot. “Yes, that’s…that’s me.”

“I wonder if you’d like to have dinner with me after work some night?”

Your pulse quickens. He was actually asking you out. “Sure, I’d love to.” The phone cord tightens.

“Wonderful. Let me know the next night you’re free and I’ll pick you up after work.”

“I’m doing second shift the next two nights but then I’m working first shift on Thursday. I’ll be done at four.”

“Thursday it is, then. I look forward to it.”

The dial tone hums loudly in your ear and you relax your grip on the spiraled cord.

”So? What’d he say?” Your coworker is chomping loudly on gum, blowing and snapping a bubble, her arms crossed, leaning back against the counter.

”He asked me out to dinner.”

”Dinner, huh? You’d better bring a change of clothes in case he takes you somewhere nice. And, you know, maybe plan ahead.” She walks over to the aisle with contraceptives and pulls a box of condoms off the shelf. “Do you think he’s an extra large? A tall guy like that with that thick neck and those huge hands? He has to be, right?”

Your face is burning. She’d noticed, too. “It’s just dinner. Put that back,” you add hastily as the door chimes, signaling another customer’s arrival.

#william afton x reader #william afton x you #steve raglan x you #steve raglan x reader #springtrap

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julesthequirky · 5 months

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Hunted: Chapter Two

All my work is purely aimed at those 18+ so minors kindly, DNI.

Summary: Drinking with a handsome man at the bar wasn’t all that bad. Until it was. Now, you’re trapped with a man you don’t know, in a place you don’t know, where noone can hear you scream. You’re starting to think that this was his plan all along. He mentions a brother, and you hope and pray that if you make it out, that you don’t meet him.

Warnings: Non-Con (Rape), Explicit Graphic Violence, Super dark fic, Explicit Sexual Content, Explicit Language, Graphic Description, Non-Consensual Touching, Object Insertion, Object Penetration, Forced Non-Consensual Orgasm, Forced Blow Jobs, Kidnapping, Psychological Torture, Physical Torture, Physical Abuse, Manipulation, Asphysxiation, PTSD, Murder, Serial Killer Dean Winchester, Serial Killer Sam Winchester.

A/N: Please. For the love of God, if any of the above triggers you. Do NOT read. You are responsible for your own mental health and the wellbeing of yourself.

A/N 2: Each chapter will involve one or more triggers from the above list.

A/N 3: Please note that the warning list is not an exhausted list, and if something turns up not on the list, I will do my best to add it to the warnings.

Characters: Dean Winchester, Female!Reader, OC Nicole.

W/C: 1,386

“C’mon, wakey wakey. Eggs and bakey.”

Coming to consciousness, you groaned, your head throbbing, and the nausea rolled in your stomach. Semiconscious, mouth dry, you swallowed, and it felt like razor blades had lodged their way into your throat. You squeezed your eyes shut, gritting your teeth from the pain. You went to lick your lips, mind too sludgy to understand why your lips were stuck together.

You had to pick up some more garbage bags. And you had to text Mom back about that thing that seemed important but could wait. Whatever it was, it had slipped your mind. The urge to pee was forming.

Last night came back to you in vague flashes. A bar. Shots. The handsome stranger. Drinking with him. In his truck – whispers, kisses and sweet touches. And then nothing. Your mind drew a complete blank.

“C’mon, darlin’.” His drawl cut through the brain fog, and your senses came rushing back.

The urge to pee strengthened.

The cold floor seared you right through, chilling your bones. Snapping your eyes open, suddenly aware that something wasn’t quite right. Your muscles screamed to be released, hands tied behind your back, ankles stuck together, essentially hog-tied. All you needed was the damn apple in your mouth. Your skin pulled on the tape covering your mouth. You jerked to your side and gasped, eyes widening.

“There she is.” He crooned, his fingers trailing through your hair, tracing your face like a lover would.

Your pulse raced, heart hammering as your chest heaved, stealing breaths one right after the other.

The stranger from last night smiled, but this time, it made your blood run cold, and the at bay panic rose a little more. He laid his hand on your hyperventilating chest. You whimpered. Tears pricked your eyes, and you desperately blinked them away.

“My, your heart’s going hell for leather.”

You squeezed your eyes shut, dragging breaths in and out. You really needed to pee now. The pressure your bladder produced had your thighs clenching together.

From your side, the world was lopsided. It was dark, with a bulb flickering overhead. Four walls, bare. No windows—

A hand gripped your face, pulling your focus away from your surroundings to him.

“Remember me?”

You nodded.

How could you forget a face like his? Especially those damn green eyes. They were seared into your brain.

The cold cement flooring seeped into your legs, and you shivered.

That caught his attention. He turned from your face to your legs, a smirk working its way across his lips.

“Damn, I remember watching you walk in. You looked so confident. So ready,” he trailed a finger along your thigh. “I remember thinkin’ that will change. Every minute the clock ticked past, I could see you deflating.”

You tried shucking away from his touch. It didn’t work. It had you on your front, flopping like a fish.

His hand clamped around your leg, fingernails digging into the flesh.

“I swooped in, saving your desperate ass. And you fell, hook, line, and sinker. Y’see, Y/N…your date was never gunna show because it was me all along.”

He fished a hand into his back pocket and brought out his phone. It took him only a moment to bring his screen to your attention.

Chad Wells never existed. You realise that now, staring at the man’s profile on his phone screen.

Fuck.

Tears stung the backs of your eyes, and you pressed your forehead to the cold floor. It had been a scam. A ruse to cover up his true motives.

Was he going to kill you?

Probably.

Your bladder pained you, reminding you that your basic needs were being squandered. You bet that he didn’t give a damn whether or not you had to relieve yourself.

At least if you peed yourself after being mauled by a bear, the bear would leave you the Hell alone.

Then, in a quick movement, he ripped the tape from your mouth.

“I need to pee. I need to pee.” You begged.

Your lips felt sticky from the residue on the tape.

He looked behind him to a lone bucket in one corner. Your eyes followed his—he couldn’t be serious? But your bladder ached to be released. You nodded, babbled okay, yes, sure. He stood up and kicked the bucket closer to you. It scraped against the concrete floor, stopping beside you.

“I don’t want no funny business.” He said as he untied your hands but left your ankles alone.

Again, you nodded. He turned around, and you fumbled with the button on your jean skirt. You yanked them down and sat on the bucket, hissing as the cold rim bit your skin. You cringed when the sound of running liquid on a tin can filled the space, but the release on your bladder was relieving.

“God, you piss like a racehorse.”

You curled your body inward, acutely aware of how loud the stream was. Every second felt excruciating as it passed.

“You done?”

Nodding, you finished up, buttoned, and the man wasted no time. He grabbed a fistful of your hair and dragged you to the door, feet sliding across the concrete. You screamed, hands flying up to punch and smack at him to get off.

“No! Please! Please, oh, God!”

He flung open the door and dragged you along a corridor. Your screams bounced off the tiles, echoing down the hall.

He shook you like a ragdoll. “Will you shut up!”

You did as he said, whimpering, lip trembling, crying silently, wishing you had never gone out last night.

He stopped by a door. Mud brown. A strange type of star adorned the top quarter of the door, and you managed to catch the number before he turned the brass knob of the door. 21.

A walled grate ran across the room. Two cage doors split the room. One was open, padlock resting unlocked. He shoved you in.

Unable to step forward to catch yourself, you fell, hands slapping the ground, your forehead barely missing the floor. The palms of your hands stung, and your wrists hurt like Hell from taking the pressure of the fall.

Another walled grate split your…cell with another. Peering in the other side, you saw a curtain of dirty, unkempt blonde hair. A small face appeared from behind the hair. And you just knew you’d seen that face before.

The cage slammed shut. The panic rose to your throat. You turned, shuffling yourself to the cage door, fingers gripping between the iron squares. The padlock clicked shut. You looked up at him.

He smiled. Cruel and twisted. He knelt, fingers gripping the metal cage from the other side.

“Look atchu, doll. All caged up, like an animal. Beautiful and scared,” He laughed softly, shaking his head. “I bet there’s still hope somewhere tucked inside. Your roommate soon learnt, aint that right, Nicole?”

He bashed the other cage door, the metal rattling. The small curled up figure jerked, startled, and came closer.

Nicole.

The name was familiar.

An abstract memory of a missing persons flier in your local grocery store, pinned to the wall with Nicole’s bright smiling face, sprung to your mind. She’d been missing for two weeks. Her face was splashed everywhere, accumulating with the other missing girls’ fliers, her parents and friends desperate to have her back.

They were all from the state of Kansas.

The Kansas Killer.

Now, your face would accompany the many victims he’d taken the lives of.

You swallowed thickly. The thought of your body never being found had your blood running cold. Because the police hadn’t found a single body yet.

Nicole was a husk of herself. Her hair hung in front of her face, and she avoided looking anywhere. She shook at being in his attention. He crooked his finger, gesturing for her to come closer. She cowered.

“C’mon, Nicole, show Y/N that it’s pointless to hope. Make ol’ Dean proud.”

Dean. The Kansas Killer’s name was Dean.

Looking at Nicole, she was doing a great job at pitting despair in your belly. She’d been here for two weeks. Is that what he did? Kept them alive. Only to ‘play’ with them. Whatever that was, you didn’t wanna know, but something in your head said you’d be encountering that pretty soon.

#Hunted #julesthequirky's fics #superdark fic #supernatural fic #reader insert #dean winchester #sam winchester #alternate universe #Supernatural multiverse

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dustofthedailylife · 2 years

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That Which Is Forbidden

→ Masterlist || → Taglist

Pairing: Alhaitham x (gn!) Reader

Summary: Forbidden knowledge forever alters the memory and personality of a person and drives them insane. Everyone in Sumeru knew as much. Yet you conducted research on it anyway.

Tags: Angst, no comfort, hints at lore theories (see end note), depiction of psychosis due to the contact with forbidden knowledge

A/N: Help... this was just supposed to be a short drabble once again... but here we are sjdksdjl. Anyway, I just had this brainrot and it ate me up then had a writing frenzy and this is the result. Enjoy reading, haha!

You had been absent from the Akademiya for the last couple of days. At first, Alhaitham thought it was just you being neck-deep in some research again, as that wasn't an unusual occurrence. But after more than a week had passed without a single word from you, he was beginning to worry.

Sure, you were ambitious, but you were also a really affectionate person who usually took time out of their day to stop by to bring him some pastries from Puspa Café or just to visit him every now and then. And he would lie if he said he wouldn't enjoy your presence.

He decided to stop by your home after work one day. He knocked on your door once. Twice. But no one answered.

Looking through your window revealed nothing but an empty and all-engulfing darkness inside as well. No lights were on and it looked downright abandoned.

He tried to turn the doorknob of your front door and, to his surprise, it wasn't locked. He peeked inside and was immediately overcome with a bad feeling that made his stomach churn and the hair on his neck stand on end.

Paper was scattered all across the floor, the tap in your kitchen was running and letters that had been thrown through the mail slot piled up behind your door as well. Just, what happened here?

He crossed the living room, went to turn off the tap, and looked for any trace of you. That was when he heard a barely audible whimper come from the direction of your bedroom.

He immediately darted to the door and flung it open. But what he found made his heart shatter into a million pieces.

"No, no, no." he repeated like a quiet mantra of denial.

The walls were covered in cryptic words you had written on there with chalk. You were cowering in the corner of the room, rocking back and forth with red, glowing eyes as you held your head between your hands. Tears continued to stream down your face that was contorted into a pained grimace while whispering one sentence over and over: "The world is a lie."

He took a glance at your disorganized desk and spotted a document titled The Origins Of The World We Know.

He had seen this many times before. It was one of the most common fields of forbidden research people tried to conduct. Each and every one of them thought it wouldn't drive them to madness and they all ultimately failed. Driven to insanity by their ambitions and hubris. Gaining knowledge on things they shouldn't.

He walked over to you, pleadingly called out your name, and tried to grab your hand in an attempt to get through to you. In order to convince himself there was still something of you left in the husk of the person he perceived in this dark room.

"Hey, look at me! I know you can hear me. It'll be alright. We can fix this. I can fix this... please..." he pleaded.

But he knew it was a lie. A futile attempt to convince himself he could get you back. To make the heart in his chest hurt less. To prevent the tears from falling that he was dangerously close to spilling.

"You idiot. Why did you do this?", he quietly sobbed.

He knew would never get you back. Never would he see your smile, hear your horrible jokes or experience your enthusiasm for your projects again. He had to call the Matra, he knew he needed to, but it was as if his feet were cemented to the ground. And all he managed to do was stare at you in disbelief with a vision blurred by tears.

You were gone. Gone to where he couldn't follow. And he had to come to terms with it.

It was at that moment he realized that this was what it felt like to grieve for someone who was still alive.

End note: The sentence "The world is lie" that Reader says here is a reference to the lore theory that Teyvat is nothing but a "simulation". An artificially created world by some entity. Some things that could undermine this theory are for example that it is always a full moon at night or Scaramouche claiming the "sky is nothing but a gigantic hoax" in an event very early on in the game. Basically some "Trumanshow" type of stuff.

Do not repost, copy, translate or edit - © dustofthedailylife || reblogs, comments, and asks about Genshin or my fics are always greatly appreciated and motivate me! Maple dividers are mine - do not copy.

#genshin impact #genshin x reader #genshin fanfic #astronetwrk #alhaitham x reader #genshin angst #genshin drabbles #al haitham x reader #alhaitham x you #alhaitham x y/n #genshin scenarios #genshin imagines #genshin brainrot #genshin x female reader #genshin x gn reader #🍁 dust writes

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offside-the-lines · 9 months

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tell me who i run to (if not you) | anthony beauvillier | Ep 4. Four-leaf Clover

This is a completed series! Read Full Fic | 🧸 Series Cover Page/Masterlist 🧁 | 🎵 Playlist 🎶 << Previous Episode || Ep 4 || Next Episode >>

Chapter Summary: Tito’s been playing again, and during his first stretch of away games begins to miss home. Well, Evie’s home anyway. When he sees her in the bar, he can’t help but show it. Barzy calls him out on his lies.

A/N: You can refer to cover page for the series summary, author's notes, tropes, general warnings and other fun tidbits. This series contains mature themes. Minors DNI. Warning: heavy alcohol consumption, and kissing under the influence Disclaimer: This series is set in Chicago but does not mention the name of the team.

Word count: 5.5k // 44.5k

Requests (open) | Masterlist & Who I Write For | Join My Taglist

Four-leaf Clover

Tito — March 9

Tito walks through Evie’s front door, his feet dragging like cement on her floor. It wasn’t even a long road trip, only three games and six days, but they took a late flight, still in their game day suits, right after the game in DC so they could be ready for the back-to-back tomorrow. Today?

He was happy to be back playing and delighted to be back in the normal rhythm of training, games, and travel. But every game is a slog, and the weight of a loss feels even heavier on a team that loses more than it wins.

Not to mention, the long calls with his agent and dad meant he spent most of his waking hours on the roadie thinking about the future. It was hard not to feel increasingly pessimistic when you feel like you’re barely making an impact on a bottom-of-the-table team.

So, yeah, he’s exhausted. His thoughts are moving like sludge through a clogged pipe when he realizes that Evie has been talking to him for a while.

She looks up at him expectantly from where she sits in front of her computer, surrounded by papers and books. She’s wearing her glasses, and her hair is tied in a messy bun, whisps falling around her face. She’s wearing another sweater he had left behind. If he’s honest, most of his favorite comfortable clothes are in her closet now. He feels so relieved to see her he could cry.

He smiles at her softly, “Hey. Sorry. What did you say?”

She laughs. “I knew you weren’t listening.” She shakes her head and stands up, walking over to him.

His body sways towards her without his meaning to.

“Woah, okay.” She catches him in a hug. “Brutal week, huh?”

His arms tighten around her, holding her firmly to him. He hums, burying his face in her neck and sinking into the scent of her perfume and conditioner.

She leans back and smiles at him in a way that makes his body feel even more like jelly than it did, “Yeah, okay. Let’s get you to bed.”

She reaches up and loosens his tie as he just blinks at her. He cooperates as she takes his suit jacket and hangs it up on the kitchen bar stool. She pushes him towards her bedroom, causing him to grunt in confusion.

“Look, you’re tired. It was a crazy game, and you took a long flight. And, to top it all off, you have another game tomorrow. Which is fucking ridiculous, by the way. You’re sleeping in the bed.”

“What?” he mumbles, “No. It’s okay. I can do the couch.”

“I’m not arguing with you on this. Go get ready for bed.”

“But,” he pauses, turning towards her in the doorway of her room, “What about you? I'm not letting you sleep on the couch in your own apartment.”

She looks at him assessingly before shaking her head and smiling, “Okay then.”

“Okay?”

“Yeah. Come on, let’s go.” She closes her laptop and turns off the lights, pushing him further into her room.

His feet drag as his head swims with confusion. “You’re staying in here, too?”

“Yes, dumbass. Might as well take advantage of this king bed.” Her voice softens. “Is that okay with you?”

“Oh,” he says, surprised, “Yes, please.”

He unbuttons his shirt as she rummages around in the closet. When she re-emerges, she’s holding a t-shirt and sweatpants. As he takes the rest of his suit off and hangs it on the nearest empty hanger, she remains standing in front of the closet stock still, eyes never leaving him. He puts a hand on her waist as he reaches around her to hang up his suit, dropping a kiss on her cheek as he takes the clothes in her hand.

If he was less tired, he might have caught the way her eyes linger on the ripple of his body, unable to look away as he changed. He might have seen the flush on her cheeks that she wills away before following him into the bathroom.

His eyes flutter closed as he leans against the sink when they're both brushing their teeth. As he starts to walk back into the bedroom, he remembers something important.

“Oh!”

“Yes?” Evie mumbles through her toothbrush, her eyes wide through the mirror as he stands close behind her, holding her waist.

“I tried to buy some tea when we were in Arizona. I tried to find the type you have here, but I couldn’t find it. Can you tell me what it’s called?”

“I can give you a box,” she says, standing stock still.

“Oh!” he whispers, “Thanks.”

He drops a kiss on her shoulder before trudging into the bedroom. He means to wait for her to join him, but he falls asleep as soon as his head hits the pillow.

Evie — March 17

Evie has never understood why St Patrick’s Day is so popular in the US, but that doesn’t stop her from agreeing to go out with the girls to celebrate. She revels in the group around her in the crowded club; it’s nice to have a group of friends in Chicago. Six months ago, that would've felt impossible.

Well, technically, she guesses, she has two groups of friends. She sees Kelsey, Leanne, and the others every few days, whether it’s for lunch, dinner, or a night out.

When Tito’s in town, she’ll join him and the team on the rare occasion that he goes out with them. Lately, she’s also been getting texts from Alandra when the team's traveling, inviting her over for viewing parties.

It feels weird to sit amongst the wives and girlfriends of the other players, though, so Evie prefers watching at home. Besides, Leanne has really gotten into the sport, so she always has company.

Her friends have been talking about St Patrick’s Day since the New Year’s party, where there was a spirited debate over the merits of house parties and nights out. The Night Out evangelists put together a bar and club crawl that started early in the evening. And Evie can really feel the alcohol in her system as she sways to the music.

Somewhere in her distant memory, she can recall Tito calling her around the second bar they visited. The team had won tonight and were in the mood to celebrate. Tito was high on his two-goal performance and sounded excited to actually go out with the team for once. She was happy for him.

She pulls out her phone— it’s now past midnight— and opens up her text messages.

To Tito 🌞🏒: whre r u?????

“Hey, Genevieve! Don’t be rude! Put your phone away,” Kelsey yells over the thrum of music.

Leanne peaks over her shoulder. “Who’ you textin’?” she slurs.

“Hey,” Evie squeaks, stuffing her phone back in her pockets. “Tito. He’s supposed to come find us.”

“What is it,” someone calls over. Evie’s not quick enough to figure out who.

“Gigi’s texting Tito again,” Leanne sings, making a wild gesture that knocks into a random passerby. “Oops.”

It only takes a second for the wolf whistles to begin.

Evie squeezes her eyes shut and knows precisely what’s in her near future.

Kelsey leans in conspiratorially, “Speaking of— You've got to be tapping that, right? I mean, holy shit. He's so fucking hot. Come on, you’ve got to tell us. What’s he packin’ under there?”

“Guys,” she whines, “We’ve literally been over this—”

“Okay, but like, you’ve got to be fucking right? You can’t have that body around 24/7 and not be hitting it.”

A wave of assent ripples through the group, and Evie feels something settle in her gut. Warm and tight across her lower belly. It makes her feel irritated and on edge.

“No, Leanne, we're not fucking. We hang out, we watch TV, we make and eat food, we sleep. That’s it.” She reaches for one of the shots on their table and slams it down.

“Oooh, she’s a little defensive,” Evie hears someone say.

“Yeah, she has to be so fucking wound up. Seeing all that and not getting any,” Kelsey tries to cover it as a mumble, but her voice is louder than she intends it to be.

“I literally picked up the other week. You were all literally there.” Evie rolls her eyes and glares at her friends. She pointedly has not and will not tell them about how that night ended.

“I guess you’re right,” Leanne says, putting her arm around Evie’s shoulder, “That girl was so fucking hot too. I don’t know how you do it. Well, I mean, I do. You’re hot. They’re hot. It’s just math. Still. Leave some for the rest of us, Jesus.”

Evie stares at the shots on the table and considers if alcohol poisoning would get her out of this conversation.

Kelsey interrupts her thoughts again, “But wait, wasn’t he on a roadie that night, though? Are you sure you guys are totally cool with each other hooking up with other people?”

Evie sighs and bangs her head on the table. “Guys, you've watched us wingman each other. What the fuck're you on right now?”

“Oh, right. Yeah.” Kelsey looks suitably chastised as she downs her own shot. Evie considers whether she should be cut off but ultimately decides she’s probably fine.

Her thoughts are interrupted again when Kelsey whispers in her ear, “So, like, if I sleep with him, you’d be okay with that.”

Evie feels her teeth clench, and her body stiffen as the room tilts a little. She forces her body to relax. She hasn’t had enough to drink to throw up right now.

“Yeah, have at it, Kels.”

When she looks over, Kelsey isn’t at all convinced, but she doesn’t seem to want to explore the topic any further. Thank God.

Evie takes a deep breath and takes another shot.

“Okay,” she says, loud and cheery, “We got another stop on this party tour?”

Leanne pulls out the map, to cheers around the table, everyone moving on quickly.

“I think Underground’s next. We can go now, what do you think?”

“Uh, yeah! Sounds great! Let’s go!” Evie announces.

As they step onto the curb, her phone rings. When she checks it, her screen is filled with a picture of Tito asleep on her couch, which she has saved as his contact photo. The image melts the remaining tension in her shoulder; she smiles and answers the call.

“Hey Tito, hold on,” she says into her phone before looking up at her friends. “You guys go on without me. I’ll meet you at the next place.”

“Are you sure?” Leanne says.

“Yeah, you guys go on. I’ll be right behind you.”

“Okay.” Leanne gives her a squeeze before walking off with the rest of the group.

Evie pulls her phone back to her ear as she steps under the club's awning, wrapping her coat close to her.

“—lo? Are you still there? Hellloooooo,” she hears Tito’s voice calling.

“Hey, Tito. Sorry, I was just talking to the girls.”

“Oh, hi!” Tito says, way too loud, making her wince.

“Hi to you too, bud,” she laughs, “Maybe not so loud. You almost made me deaf.”

There’s a pause on the other end before she hears Tito whisper dramatically into his phone, “Oh. Sorry. I just got excited. I miss you.”

She laughs again, her cheeks straining with her smile. “That’s okay. Where are you?”

“Um… Hold on.” She hears some muffled noises on the other end of the line. “We're going somewhere else soon. Where are you?”

“That didn't answer my question, " she laughs. “I’m at SpyBar. In River North.”

She hears him repeat her location.

“Tito?”

“Yeah, chouchou! I’m in a cab! I’ll be there in…” She hears him lean away from the phone again and ask the driver how far away he is, first in French and then in English. “Ten minutes.”

“What? Okay?” she says in confusion.

“Don’t move, okay? I’m coming.”

She shakes her head. “Yeah, okay. I might go back inside because it’s freezing out here.”

“Oh, yeah,” his voice coming through bright on her phone, “That’s okay. I’ll find you!”

“No, Tito! Just text me when you get here, and I’ll come out. There’s a line.”

When she hears no response, she looks down to see he has already hung up. “Goddammit,” she says to herself.

Fifteen minutes later, she's standing at a high top in the corner of the room, eyeing her phone, her vision hazy, when a large body comes crashing into her.

She stumbles in surprise. “Wha—”

Strong hands spin her around.

Her brain registers Tito’s beaming smile for a split second before his lips crash into hers. His hands fly up to cradle her face roughly.

She makes a squeak of surprise, her hands clinging to his arms— were they always this firm— for balance.

Before she can process any of it, Tito leans back. She immediately misses the sensation of his warm lips against hers, and her body sways into him to chase them.

“Hi,” Tito says warmly, his eyes wild and unfocused, the corners of them crinkled in unbridled joy.

“Hi?” She looks up at him. At this moment, it hits her that Leanne and Kelsey are so right. He's probably the most beautiful person she’s ever seen. Her eyes trail down his sharp nose to his soft lips. She likes those lips. They smile.

“I missed you,” the lips say. One of the hands on Evie’s face trails down her neck, causing her to shiver. The other hand tenderly tucks a strand of hair behind her ear before resting on her waist.

“You saw me this morning.” Her hands slide from his arms— how are they so big— across his equally firm chest. She can hear her blood rushing in her ears as she feels him solid and warm beneath her fingers.

“I know,” he murmurs before leaning forward to plant a soft peck on her forehead. She feels more than hears him take a breath in, his shoulders relaxing.

He leans back, his eyes searching her face, but she’s distracted. Her own eyes feel unfocused as they get stuck on his tongue wetting his glistening lips before finally locking onto his crystal-clear eyes.

Whatever Tito’s looking for, he seems content to have found it when he smiles, and she can’t help but smile back.

The hand on her neck moves so gently she feels every hair on her body stand on end. His thumb moves to brush along her jaw, resting on her chin. He tilts her head back, and her mouth parts with the action, and she feels his chest rumble beneath her palms as he groans.

The second time his lips meet hers, she’s ready for them and she wastes no time. She’s always known they were full— she has eyes— but she can feel every millimeter of their softness against hers. She feels content to just explore his pillowy lips but is interrupted by the way his tongue brushes against her lips, setting a jolt of heat down her spine.

Her hands grab onto his black dress shirt, pulling him impossibly closer and deepening the kiss. She feels crazy with it; the way their tongues slide hot and wet, the way his hands drag reverently over her back, coming to rest on her hips.

Her fingers are tangled in his soft curls. She gives them a gentle tug, eliciting another deep noise from him that makes the warmth in her stomach grow blazing hot.

He gently bites her lip in retaliation, surprising a moan out of her. Somewhere in her brain, she notices how broad his hands feel, fingers digging into her hips lightly.

They both jump when Tito’s phone vibrates between their bodies. He pulls away, a soft smile on his face, before reaching into his pocket.

“The boys are at the Underground, and they’re just wondering where I am.” He rests his forehead against hers.

“Oh! That’s where my friends went, too.”

“Do you want to go there then?”

“Yeah, let’s do it,” she smiles. She can feel her heart beating hard in her chest as the room sways a little around them.

“Okay, then.” He pauses. “Just one more thing before we go.”

“What?”

“Oh, you know, just this.”

He kisses her briefly.

“Wait, one more.”

Another kiss.

“Hang on. Okay, last one.”

Another kiss.

“There.”

She's laughing, rolling her eyes as she pushes him out of the club and into the cold Chicago air. The Underground is only a 10-minute walk from where they are, so they decide to walk hand-in-hand, chatting excitedly and laughing. At some point, Tito convinces her that he should give her a piggy-back ride. And that’s what their friends see when they walk up outside the club.

“Hey! Look! It’s Leanne. Oh, and your other friends! Oh! And the boys!” he shouts, attempting to point as he holds onto her calf.

Eventually, he agrees to let her down, but only because the bouncer insists. He doesn’t go far, though. He has an arm around her for the rest of the night, never leaving her side for even a moment until he's putting her in a cab with Leanne, dropping a kiss on her cheek.

“I’m not going to say anything,” Leanne says smugly as the door shuts.

Evie — March 18

The following morning, Evie wakes up with an incredible hangover. She groans as she rubs her eyes, wincing at the open windows. They must've forgotten to pull the blinds last night.

Tito…

She pauses, her head spinning. There’s something there as she freezes, pulling on that fuzzy thread of memory.

It comes back in a flash: wet pillowy lips sliding over hers, soft curly hair in her fingers, a broad palm firm on her waist, a warm callused thumb tracing her jaw, two deep pools of blue holding her gaze so tenderly.

She gasps; her eyes fly open.

Tito.

She looks over at her empty side, where she has grown accustomed to seeing Tito sleeping.

Right, he had to pack for a road trip. A road trip leaving today for the next week.

Fuck.

He will be back for only two days before he's gone for another week.

Double fuck.

Evie groans, pulls his pillow over her face, and screams into the swirling scents of her own conditioner and his cologne.

Tito — April 1

Tito’s glad he gets a day off in New York before their game against the Islanders. It lets him veg out on Mat’s couch all afternoon and evening— an entire 12 hours where he can pretend last year never happened.

He hates that this is one of only two places where he doesn’t feel like his skin is too tight for his body. At least in this space, he doesn’t have to think about all the calls with his agent about next season. He especially doesn’t have to think about the email in his inbox detailing his flight home on April 21st.

So he just enjoys spending time with Mat, playing video games like old times, and being in each other’s presence.

He’s glad he gets that time to enjoy blissful ignorance before he's rudely wrenched back into his real life while eating Thai food on Mat’s couch.

“So, any news about the contract situation?” Mat tries to sound casual and falls short by at least a mile.

“No, Barzy. If there was news, you’d know. You’d literally be like the first person I’d tell.”

Mat studies his face, and he must find something there because he shrugs.

“First person still, eh?” Mat’s face lights up in a cheeky smirk. “You sure? Are you sure I wouldn’t be the second? You think you’d call me before you’d call Evie.”

He says her name in a sing-songy voice, making Tito roll his eyes. Mat has gotten so much worse in his teasing about Evie since they met on FaceTime; Mat had loudly— embarrassingly— said, “You said she was hot; you didn’t tell me she was this gorgeous.” They apparently text now, too.

Tito heaves a heavy sigh and rolls his eyes. “Actually, you’re right. I’d probably call my dad first.”

Unfortunately, the glint has not left Mat’s eyes, which tells Tito he has found something to latch on to and has no intention of stopping anytime soon.

“So,” Mat says, casually chewing on his Pad Thai. “How’s Evie?”

“Why don’t you ask her yourself? You guys text now, don’t you?”

“You jealous, bud?”

Tito levels him with an unimpressed look. “Why would I be jealous? I literally see her every day.”

“Every day, eh?” Mat nods dramatically. “Uh-huh. Uh-huh. Uh-huh.”

Tito swears internally. How does Mat always do this? “Yes. I see my new best friend every day.”

Mat squawks so loud that Tito almost drops his green curry and points at him accusingly with his chopsticks. “What?! I told you that she was replacing me. Nah-uh, man. I am your best friend. And I will fight her. I will fly to Chicago right now and fight her.”

Tito chews smugly. “You’re going to travel. On a plane. To fist-fight a girl? Why don’t you take that energy onto the ice instead of all the yapping, eh?”

“Oh fuck you, Beau,” he spits, with no heat behind it. He eats his dinner, thinking for a bit before adding, “No ice talk in Barzy-Beau time.”

They eat their dinner in silence for a few seconds before Mat pipes up again, sighing dramatically, “I can’t believe you’ve fucking replaced me already. It’s been one year. All those years of work, down the drain. Did me helping you when you broke your arm in U-18 dev camp mean nothing to you?”

“Barz, this is why they call you a bitch baby.” Tito laughs again when he's rewarded with another squawk.

“No one calls me that!” he whines.

“Sure, bud.” Tito bumps his shoulder into Mat’s, smiling as Mat continues to rant while they finish their food.

After putting the empty take-out containers onto Mat’s coffee table, he flops back onto the couch with the controller.

“Okay, so you don’t want to talk about Evie,” Mat says, a few seconds into the NHL 24 game they’re playing.

“Not really, no.”

“Okay, so, like, any other hotties in Chicago?”

Flashes of Evie cross his mind, unprompted. He tries to think of literally any of the other girls he’s been with ever, but they all get replaced by her: the warm glint in her dark chocolate eyes, the buttery soft skin of her calf beneath his hands when they’re on the couch, or the way her smile makes his chest loosen even on the worst days.

And the hot slide of her lips against his.

Tito’s thumb slips, and his avatar misses the goal.

“Fuck! Uh, not really? I mean, I went out a bit earlier in the season, but I’m just so fucking exhausted now.”

Mat hums. “Sure, yeah. Anyone good enough you’d wanna see again?”

Tito’s traitorous mind can only supply the blurry flashes of Evie’s body pressed against his with the thrumming bass of club music in the background. The sensation of her hands curled in his hair. The little gasp-moan she made when he bit her lip. The way his fingers could span her entire waist.

He swallows hard, pushing those memories back down. “Come on, man. You know I never tell.”

Mat laughs softly. “Yeah, I know. Still worth a try, though.”

“You’re disgusting, man.”

Mat shrugs, feigning indifference. Tito bumps him hard with his shoulder.

“Hey!” he yells, elbowing Tito back, “That’s fucking interference.”

“What're you gonna do about it? Fight me?”

The conversation and the game devolve from there.

Later in the evening, Mat stands up to clean off the take-out boxes, an honest hallmark of growing up.

“You want anything to drink?” he asks from the kitchen.

Tito pauses and thinks, “Yeah, uh… Do you have any tea?”

There’s a silence in the kitchen before Mat appears in the doorway.

“Tea?” he asks.

“Uh, yeah? Leaves plus hot water? Leaf juice? I’m sure you’ve heard of it,” Tito smirks.

“Shut up,” Mat rolls his eyes, “Since when do you drink tea.”

“Since always? What’s it to you?”

Mat stares at him for an extended moment, brows furrowed, before walking back into the kitchen without another word.

“Um, Barz?” Tito calls after him, following him into the kitchen.

He sees Mat bent over, rummaging through his drawers loudly before turning around and throwing a tea bag at Tito.

“Here. You know where stuff is.” Mat walks past him back to the living room.

Tito stands for a second, confused, before following. “Dude, what the fuck was that?”

When Mat turns around, Tito's floored because Mat looks genuinely angry.

“Why are you lying to me?” Mat challenges, not a trace of his signature smirk on his face.

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“You know exactly what I’m talking about.”

Tito stares at him blankly before shaking his head.

“Are you fucking serious right now, Beauvillier?” He pauses to assess Tito’s face. “Tea! Tea. You drink tea now? I've known you ten fucking years; I've seen you drink tea maybe three times.”

“Oh, come on, I drank tea.”

“No, you didn’t! But that is so not the fucking point, and you know it.” Mat walks back to him and pokes him hard in the chest. “So, tell me, why are you lying to me?”

Tito sighs and rubs his hands over his face, and when he opens his mouth to speak again, his voice comes out strained, “I’m not lying Mat. I swear.”

He feels Mat poke him again, gentler this time. “Okay. Fine. But if you’re not lying to me, then you're lying to yourself.”

“I— There’s—” Tito stammers, unable to form a coherent sentence, a panic setting into his chest.

Mat looks at him, and his expression softens before sighing, “Look, Beau. Tell me honestly. Where the fuck did you go when I asked you if you were seeing someone?”

His mind unhelpfully flashes him the image of Evie waking up next to him in the morning, sleep rumpled and utterly breathtaking. She makes a little squeak when she stretches, right as her eyes flutter open, and before she smiles at him. Tito’s always been an early riser, but even if he wasn’t, it’d been worth it just to see that every morning.

“Yes! See? That! Where the fuck did you just go?”

“I—” Tito takes a deep breath and fights through the tightness in his chest. “I can’t. I can’t, Mat.”

“Beau—”

“You know I can’t. She— I’m leaving Chicago in three weeks, Mat. I don’t know if I’m even going back to Chicago. I have no idea where I’m going to be next year.” He takes a shaking breath and looks past Mat’s shoulder and out of the living window.

“Beau— Tito, what are you talking about?” Mat asks gently.

“Barz, I know. Okay? I know. I know that I'm absolutely fucked. But it doesn’t matter because I can’t— I won’t do that to her. I've been in three different cities in the past year. Three different teams.” He fights through the wobble in his voice, barely above a whisper. “You don’t know what it’s like to— You just don’t know what it’s like.”

“Tito, fucking talk to me, man. Please. Just word vomit. Get it all out. Like when you make yourself throw up when you’ve drunk too much. It sucks in the moment, but you’ll feel better after.”

Tito sinks heavily into the armchair next to the couch and buries his face in his hands. “It’s just… One day, a team's your life. You’re asked to give everything to that team. And you’re happy to. Because it’s your team. Those are your boys. It’s like who you are. Anthony Beauvillier, a New York Islander. Right?

“And then the next day, out of absolutely fucking nowhere, you’re just not that anymore. You’re now on a new team in a new city with new teammates and new support staff. Everything's different. But you’re supposed to act like everything's fine, and you have to slot right in, in this strange new place with strange new people, and be just as committed to this strange new team as you were to the old one. And pretend like the last few years of your life never even happened.

“So you do it. And you do it with a smile on your face and a positive mindset, or whatever. You power through until you make new friends, have new favorite spots to eat, and, just like, new everything. And you think, fuck, okay, this’ll be fine. You’re smiling more for real now instead of just because that’s what people expect from you.

“And then, one day, you’re eating breakfast and you get a call from your agent. And it’s happening all over again.” His voice breaks. “And I just have a feeling that this is just what my career is going to be like Mat.”

“No—” he hears Mat’s pained voice coming from next to him.

“No, it’s okay, Barz. Look, I’m really happy for you, and I love seeing you fucking killing it out there. And being an All-Star and all that. But that’s not me. And that’s fine, too. I’m doing fine. I promise. But I can’t fucking do that to someone— to her. Even if she feels the— I can’t ask her to do this fucking circus show with me, just ripping her from her home every however many months. Just being a little scared every single time the phone rings that it’s going to be that call again. I can’t—”

Tito presses the heels of his hands against his eyes hard, willing himself not to cry. He hears Mat shuffle around to hug him firmly and tries to breathe through the tightness constricting his chest.

“I’m sorry, Beau. I really am. I wish it didn’t have to be you. I wish you could stay— could've stayed.” Mat sounds like he might be crying a little, too.

“It’s okay. It’s gotta be someone, I guess.” He shrugs, wiping his hands from his eyes and running his fingers through his slightly messed-up hair. “It’s so fucking stupid because I still feel really fucking lucky to play in the show. Like this was the dream. You know that. I’m living my fucking dream. And I knew this was part of the deal. So I’m okay with it, but I can’t ask her to do this shit with me. She deserves better than this. And I’m really grateful she’s even just my friend at all. I’ll be okay with it staying that way. It doesn’t matter what I— It doesn’t matter.”

Mat gives him a final squeeze before letting him go and sitting back on the edge of the couch. “Have you thought about talking to Evie about this? Like, I think she should know.”

Tito shakes his head, staring at his damp hands. “No… I don’t know… Maybe… I wouldn’t even know what to say.”

“Well, I think it would be good to start with how you definitely want to marry her and have her babies because you’re an idiot who drinks tea now.”

Tito chortles and shoves Mat in the shoulders hard; he falls dramatically backward into the couch. “I’m not fucking saying that, Mathew.”

“Which part, eh?” Mat winks and wiggles his eyebrows.

Tito takes the pillow behind him and pelts it at Mat’s head. “Any of it, you dumb fuck,” he yells before they both burst out laughing.

When they finally calm down, Mat says, “For what it’s worth, she’s definitely into you too. Anyone who voluntarily spends that much time with you has to be mesmerized by something. Might be just the abs, but it could also be your personality.”

“God, I hate you.”

“No, you don’t. You love me,” Mat beams at him, a smug grin stretched across his whole face.

“Urgh, fine. I do, Mat-Mat. Worst fucking choice ever. Should never have spoken to you at camp,” he scoffs, rolling his eyes.

“Yeah? And what would you do without me?” Mat says in an exaggerated sing-song voice. He nudges Tito’s calf with his foot before standing up, “Come on, let’s make you that fucking tea.”

“I can’t believe you yelled at me over tea.” Tito stands up, following Mat to the kitchen again.

“I did not yell at you about tea. I yelled at you because you were being so fucking stupid, and it was pissing me off.”

“Do you even have a kettle?”

Mat throws him an unimpressed look, “No, I obviously don’t have a kettle. I was going to microwave it. God, she’s made you into a snob.”

“It's not snobby to make your tea at the right temperature.” Mat raises his eyebrows, and Tito laughs, “Okay, maybe. She’s right, though. Something about brewing temperature.”

“Whipped,” Mat mutters under his breath, causing Tito to hit him with a dishtowel.

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