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turtletaubwrites · 2 months

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Numbers Game ~ Part 31

Pairings: Cross Guild Polycule x Fem!Reader x Shanks

Numbers Game Masterlist

Word Count: 7853

Ao3 Link

Ongoing Series Playlist: Youtube Music Link | Youtube Link

Summary: The Emperor of the Sea sets sail from Karai Bari Island. Can he make it to the banquet in two days? More importantly, can Shanks regain his confidence, and do what needs to be done to save the woman that both of his lovers love?

Let the games begin! 🏹

Author's Note: Thank you for the wait! This month has been extra, but I also spent a ton of time and research writing this one since the game is getting started. I hope you enjoy it! I have soo many plans 🥰😈

There's a yucky Uncle Cedrick scene, but from now on we'll just have to expect that. I will continue to bracket sections if heavier situations come up, but at this point, I hope that Uncle Cuntdick will be his own warning 😬 We are meeting Dr. Vorsan this chapter, and I've bracketed the scene with these symbols ~~~⚫⚫⚫~~~ so as not to jump scare everyone!

Alternate POV Symbols:

!!! SPOILER WARNING !!! Fic currently contains spoilers for up to the end of the Wano arc, and potentially current arc minor details.

Rating/Warnings: Author May Choose to Exclude some Warnings to Avoid Spoilers for Certain Chapters, Explicit Sexual Content, 18+ ONLY, MDNI, AFAB!Reader, She/Her Pronouns for Reader, Reader-Insert, Use of Y/N, Dark Content, Blood & Violence, PTSD, Panic Attacks, Dissociation, Mental Illness, Grief, Toxic Family, Swearing, Alcohol, Cigars, Smut, Fluff, Angst, Guilt, Drama, Jealousy, Manipulation, Pet Names, Power Imbalance, Cross Guild boys are VILLAINS, Possessive Behavior, Teasing, Threats, Relationship Drama, Anal, Uncle Cedrick might just be his own warning, Doctors, Inappropriate Use of Akuma no Mi | Devil Fruit Powers, Shameless Shameless Smut, Other Additional Tags to Be Added

~~~⏰🔴🔴🔴⏰~~~

“Go away, old man,” groaned a frighteningly hungover pirate captain, who was still face down on the floor of his quarters. Sheets with too many smells had already been stripped from his bed, but the night had held too much liquor for him to replace them on his own, so he’d slept on the rug.

“I’d love to,” Benn snorted, rolling Shanks onto his back. “Is my captain done drownin’ his sorrows?”

“Dunno what you mean.”

He cringed while he pushed himself up to lean against the wall, and couldn’t meet his first mate’s eyes.

“You’re too kind hearted for this, captain,” the older man sighed. “Why don’t you find a sweet, little barmaid to dote on like a respectable pirate, eh? What about–”

“I don’t want bunnies. I want…” Shanks growled, but his anger fizzled out at the thought of predators and prey.

“Nah. The Great, Red Haired Shanks just wants ungrateful brats that leave him crying on the floor a few times a year.”

The Great, Red Haired Shanks pulled himself to his feet, only to stumble over to an uncorked bottle in the corner, taking a grateful swig when he found it full.

“Just had too much fun is all,” he laughed, the bitter taste drowning out the sweetness of the wine.

“Well, next time that creepy asshole gives my captain too much fun, I’m gonna make sure it’s him that’s crying, ya hear me?”

“Sure, old man,” Shanks snorted, letting his first mate guide him to the shower, still downing that wine to fight off images of wicked, beautiful eyes. He wondered how long it would take this time for the cruel hint of gold to leave his mind.

The Great, Red Haired Shanks didn’t need bunnies or hawks. He just needed the sea, his crew, and another fucking bottle.

~~~⏰🔴🔴🔴⏰~~~

~~~~~~

~~~🌲🌲🌲~~~

~~~

~~~⚫⚫⚫~~~

“It’s been some time since our last session. How have you been feeling, Y/N?”

Dr. Vorsan’s pale eyes always felt sticky. Puddles of too much glue, waiting to capture anything you let slip from your shaky fingers, your trembling lips.

Breathe.

“I’m feeling well, Doctor,” you lied, keeping your voice soft. “I’m sure you've heard about my recent behavior… I believe the experience has offered me some much needed clarity.”

Everything about this man was pale and watery, and you reminded yourself not to frown at his beige suit. It would have seemed like the doctor wanted to fade into the background, if every boring detail about him hadn’t been so exquisitely tailored.

“That’s good to hear,” he praised, though the emptiness in his voice had you fighting to stay present. “Why don’t you tell me about it. You’re going through a lot of transitions, Y/N. Major life changes, even positive ones, can cause a lot of strain. Have you been feeling strained, Y/N?”

“Mmssorry,” you slurred, fighting your lips that had already frozen, not even five minutes in.

“You stated that your time with the Cross Guild brought you clarity,” Dr. Vorsan noted. Those sticky eyes seemed to warm while your body left your control, until you couldn’t meet them anymore, couldn’t look higher than his elbows. “By putting yourself in such a dangerous–”

“I wasn’t–”

You were heavy and loose now, your whispered denial draining the last of your energy.

“You’re in a safe place, Y/N,” he promised while he pulled a shiny, gold pen from his jacket, propping up a notepad on his knee. “Do you know where you are?”

He asked again, voice so soft, until you nodded in agreement.

“Good, Y/N. Just take some deep breaths, and we can stop whenever you need to. We’ll help you get clarity, so you can stay well. Do you want to stay well, Y/N?”

“Y-yes, Doctor.”

“Wonderful,” he purred, scratching a note onto the top of his page, the movement of his manicured hands holding your gaze. “Why don’t you tell me about the clown?”

~~~⚫⚫⚫~~~

~~~

~~~🌲🌲🌲~~~

~~~~~~

~~~🔴🗡️🤡🐊~~~

“With Sylvad’s cowardly level of security, I believe this would be too risky to use, but you should take it, in case the opportunity arises.”

“It’s so small,” Shanks hummed, inspecting Mihawk’s earpiece transponder snail, its tiny eyes blinking up at him slowly. “Maybe if I–”

“Save it,” Crocodile ordered, pushing away his untouched meal before closing the ornate shell container in Shanks’ palm, shutting those little eyes away. “Right now, the safest way to save our girl is for you to marry her. Don’t put that at risk by acting suspicious.”

Shanks stared at the closed shell before tucking it away, looking up to find his old friend winking at him.

“Don’t fret, love. We can have a belated bachelor party when you return,” Mihawk teased, combing his fingers through that bright, red hair.

“But Buggy—”

“I’m not thrilled about it either,” Crocodile sighed, standing to usher the other man out of the suite, “but it’s our best chance. That’s your mission. We’ll be listening, we have the location, and we can reach out to your crew if we need to share something vital. Can you do this?”

The two men stared each other down again, the swordsman’s hand dropping away to give them space.

“I’ll bring her back,” Shanks swore again, offering Crocodile his hand. The larger man shook it, but the press of time killed their peaceful moment.

The Emperor made his way into Adam’s room, waiting for Buggy’s permission to speak, but his clown looked pained, and Shanks couldn’t wait.

“What’s wrong, Bugs?”

Buggy’s hands were cramping from recording the pros and cons of the men that might marry his star. His throat was tired from swallowing nasty fears and guilt at the thought of Y/N actually finding someone she wanted to be with.

“You’re leaving,” he whispered, letting out a sigh when Shanks nodded. Strong fingers were so gentle as they brushed hair behind his ear, pens not doing enough to hold up all of that blue.

“I’m gonna fix this, Bugs.”

“She doesn’t believe…”

Though jealousy had turned him into someone he didn’t recognize, now when he saw that look of love in Buggy’s eyes for Y/N, Shanks wanted to burn all the oceans to bring them back together.

“She loves me, but she thinks it’s over, Shanks. My star’s really looking for someone else.”

“That’s not gon–”

“Make sure it’s you, alright, shithead?”

Buggy pressed his last piece of hope into Shanks’ palm, before letting himself hold and be held by this beautiful man that had been so many things to him over the years. He sank to the floor, allowing soothing kisses to be left along his unraveling hair while slow, exhausted tears escaped him.

Shanks opened his mouth to comfort, to promise, to share, but Buggy reached for the notepad again, mumbling about her “favorites.” After a rushed, bittersweet kiss, the red headed pirate was on his way, met by his golden eyed lover in the hall.

“Making sure I don’t run off with all your booze,” he tried to smile, feeling the weight of distance already crashing over him.

“Something like that,” Mihawk teased. “I thought I’d send you off.”

~~~🔴🗡️🤡🐊~~~

~~~~~~

~~~🌲🌲🌲~~~

“How was your session with Dr. Vorsan,” Uncle Cedrick taunted, filling the dining room with ice.

“It went well.”

You’d managed to bring yourself back, to find your body and voice again before dinner, knowing that he’d be waiting to poke at you.

“Excellent,” he purred, killing your appetite again. “He’ll be staying until the wedding, just in case you need the extra support.”

“Thank you, Uncle,” you hummed, forcing down a bite.

“So polite,” he laughed, touching your moms chin to lift her face up. “See, Delaine. A little time with the doc, and your daughter’s already feeling better. Maybe she’ll even stop asking her mama bird to chew up her food soon.”

“She can stop after the wedding,” you said coldly, not enjoying the cruel laugh he gave at her expense.

“Such a high maintenance bride,” he taunted, towering over you all when he stood from his seat, offering you his arm. “Come on, smarty. Let’s take a walk.”

Kat started to argue for you, but it was a pointless battle, so you left the other Sylvad ladies at the table, letting Uncle Cedrick guide you out to the lavish courtyard.

“I know you’ve been reviewing the details with Kat, instead of your mother, but I expect you to be prepared tomorrow. You know the rules of the game?”

“The suitors have a month to win me,” you recited while he led you through the tables, dragging you to the beautiful, carved bench where the introductions would be held. “They’re not allowed to fight amongst themselves unless it’s for the game, and they have to leave grudges aside until after someone wins my heart. They’ll all have time with me as a group and in private, and they can woo me however they like, so long as it doesn’t endanger me, or take me off the island.”

The pride in his smile wasn’t for you, but he beamed it at you, nonetheless.

“Since you’ve been doing so well, I’m sure you can remember a few more rules. Think you can handle that, smarty?”

“Yes, Uncle,” you agreed, sending your rage down into the stone beneath you.

“You need to remember that choice is a fucking luxury, Y/N,” he threatened, brushing the hair back from your face while he leaned too close, his cologne filling your lungs. “After the fiasco you could have caused, and after all these years of abusing my patience, you’re lucky I’m letting you play this little game at all.”

His hateful words were drawn out with lazy pleasure, and he kept his fingers in your hair, stroking you like a pet. Like his pretty doll.

“You’re going to give all of your suitors a fair chance. They’re here to enjoy themselves, so I won’t have you chasing anyone off too soon. You’re going to whittle them down slowly, and carefully, and with my approval. Your final two suitors will be offered a deal, and if they don’t accept it, they won’t get my blessing.”

“So…”

“So, do whatever you need to do to convince the men you like the most to take that deal.”

Nodding so you wouldn’t spit, you seethed when he tugged at your chin the way he’d touched your mother’s earlier. Your eyes were forced to his, and the stars above seemed to burn like acid as your face tilted up toward them.

“I’ll do anything to protect this family,” Uncle Cedrick vowed as he rubbed his thumb across your snarling lips. “If there’s a man that can offer a better deal, then he’ll get my blessing, no matter your preference. So get ready to use this smart, little mouth of yours, niece. I wonder if you’re a good enough whore to convince anyone to stay? Though I have to confess, after all of your tantrums, I think my spoiled brat of a niece might deserve a man that can put her in her place.”

He laughed at your stifled hatred, wiggling your face before releasing you.

“Give them all a chance to win you,” Uncle ordered, satisfaction dripping from his parted lips.

He enjoyed watching you suffer. Enjoyed it in a way that made your skin crawl, but you could never fully hide your rage from him, no matter how skilled you became. He could fucking sniff it out.

“If I catch you sabotaging any suitor’s feelings for you before I’ve given the approval to drop them, then I’ll make sure you get some extra special time together. It’s only fair.”

All of the acceptance you’d been building up was crashing down around you, and you held in your tears, not wanting to see the pleasure on his face if he tore them from you.

You wanted to run away.

He found me. He could have had Karai Bari wiped off the fucking map, and Buggy…

“Well, niece, do you understand? Or do I need to—“

“I’ll fuck the one’s I like to make them take your deal,” you growled, almost losing your vision from the rage that was coursing through you. “And I’ll fuck the one’s I hate so you won’t know which piece of shit to trap me with.”

Cedrick Sylvad threw his head back, bellowing his cruel laughter up to the twinkling sky.

“Oh, this is going to be fun,” he wheezed, before leaving you there with a dismissive wave of his hand. “Don’t stay up too late, niece.”

He didn’t leave you with a guard. There was no need.

I’ll never get away. These are my choices. Pros and cons.

The silent courtyard felt like a cemetery while you struggled to move, to head off to bed, and end this shitty night. Your fingers found their way to your locket, the touch of warm metal helping to calm your breathing while you stared at all the cold, shining stars above you.

“At least I have all those pretty daydreams,” you whispered, feeling like an empty doll as you floated off to bed.

~~~🌲🌲🌲~~~

~~~~~~

~~~🔴🗡️🔴🗡️~~~

“Hawk Eyes.”

It had been a couple of years since Mihawk had stepped foot onto the Red Force, but his body had memorized every step toward the captain’s quarters, and they walked there without a thought.

Until a tall, scowling man blocked his path.

“Good afternoon, Benn. How—“

“How about you get the fuck—“

“Hey now,” Shanks laughed, stepping between his first mate and the swordsman, who’d raised a brow at the threatening tone. “We’re good, Benn! He’s just seeing us off.”

“Well, I’ll see him off a fucking cliff if he makes you—”

Shanks cut him off, pulling Mihawk into his quarters while Benn narrowed his eyes, his arms flexing as he crossed them over his chest.

“If I make him…” Mihawk asked, focusing on the hint of pink that was blossoming on Shanks’ cheeks.

Cute.

“Benn, get the crew ready. We’re heading out soon.”

“Aye, captain,” he agreed, still leaning toward the swordsman through the doorway. Benn jerked his head to the side as unruly strands of long, gray hair escaped his tie, getting in the way of his glare. “If you ever make my captain cry again, I’m gonna turn those pretty, gold eyeballs into pretty, gold earrings, ya hear me?”

“Thanks, Benn,” Shanks shoved the man out, locking himself into his quarters with his wicked, old friend whose mouth was hanging wide open. He might have laughed at the sight if he hadn’t wanted to crawl under the floorboards.

Fuck you, Benn…

“Cry?”

Shanks had watched those lips move. He’d heard that voice speak.

Yet his mind couldn’t connect that trembling word to the deadly rival before him.

The sweetness that had echoed through Mihawk’s bones with every step beside his lover had curdled again, guilt and shame scraping up his throat, strangling the words he’d hoped to share.

I don’t deserve it.

“You’re shaking,” the red haired pirate breathed as he reached for one of those dangerous hands. Everything was unsteady. Nothing in this world fit anymore, but Shanks tried to laugh it off. “Is Dracule Mihawk feeling jealous? I never had you pegged for the marriage type.”

“No,” he choked a laugh, brittle and stinging as he sat on the bed. The same, old bed they’d shared countless times. “I’m so sorry, Shanks.”

Those words again.

This “vacation” of his had felt like the most outrageous, delicious dream held hostage by a nightmare, and Shanks felt a sudden terror that he was about to wake up to find it was all gone.

In case it was about to disappear, Shanks sat beside his vicious, old friend, and pressed a kiss to the man’s temple. Mihawk wrapped his arms around him, clinging, feeding into the unreality of this soft, lovely dream.

“Are you alright, Hawk,” Shanks breathed.

Instincts would have sent the swordsman out the door by now. Every thought pushed him out, guilt, and fear, and lies, no longer strong enough to outweigh the need to keep holding Shanks against him, to keep inhaling his comforting scent.

The need to run was fueled by his new piles of shame. An unconscious demand to leave. Leave. Leave.

“I’m done…”

“What’s that,” Shanks tensed at the whisper. He fought his rising dread, tracing his fingers through that pretty, black hair. As they always had, Mihawk’s hypnotic eyes made his world pause, yet in this moment they seemed like true magic. The swordsman had once been blank, unknowable, giving no depth, though Shanks had reached and delved as far as his old rival would let him.

Now those golden eyes were hypnotizing not for their blankness, but for the swirling depths that pulled him in. Pools of molten metal, pain, and need, and other things Shanks couldn’t think clearly enough to try to understand.

Mihawk couldn’t understand how this beautiful, glorious man could still stand to look at him, let alone offer him comfort. He almost talked himself out of the room again, but vowed that he was done being a coward. He would fight. He would never run.

Never again.

“I know I…” Mihawk started, losing his train of thought while he stared at his old friend that could have been something so much more.

What’s the point of being safe if I can’t even…

“Hawk?”

“I love you. I know it’s too late. I’m sorry, I–mmn!”

All that dread exploded, leaving Shanks absolutely fucking high. None of this could be real, but what a dream.

“Took you long enough, old friend,” he purred. Mihawk whimpered beneath him, shaking under his touch after Shanks had pushed him onto his back, kissing him as though he’d disappear if he stopped.

“I’m s-sorry, Sha–”

“Are you lying? Manipulating me?”

He gripped Mihawk’s face, wanting to throw this fear off the ship. Gods, he wanted to believe it, to feel it.

Mihawk let out a breath, a weak sob, as the gold of his eyes was dressed with diamonds. The monster was even more hypnotizing when he cried.

“I’m not lying,” he confessed. Memories flooded the swordsman now, filling the air around him with regret, and with the hope he was fighting to keep. He reached up, cupping Shanks’ face while he blinked away his salty fear. “You loved a coward, old friend, but I’m done running. I love you. I’m so sor–”

Shanks couldn’t tell if he was laughing, or crying as he fell onto the wicked, intoxicating man beneath him.

“I love you too, Hawk. I still love you. Could never stop.”

“Shanks…”

“Say it again,” Shanks breathed while he kissed along Mihawk’s throat, dizzy while one of his dearest fantasies played out before him.

“I love you, Shanks.” Mihawk shivered, clinging, reaching, falling to pieces. Shameful parts of him still screamed to run, still thought so many cruel, ungrateful things, but there was nothing like the satisfied sounds his lover made when he said those words. “I have loved you in my cowardly heart. I’m sorry I– fuck!”

The red haired pirate fisted his hair with vicious force while he rutted his clothed cock against him, chuckling as he watched those hypnotizing eyes flutter with need.

“Why are you sorry?”

“I…”

Mihawk was already lost in him, and Shanks let that sweetness pour over his body, his breath relaxing as he decided how to take care of his lover.

“You’re sorry because you didn’t say you love me, right,” he purred, kissing tingles into Mihawk’s skin as he breathed along his temple to his jaw. The swordsman gave a weak nod, and a little whine, so Shanks nibbled at his ear, telling his boy how to please him.

“I don’t wanna hear another ‘sorry,' you hear me,” he threatened, tracing his thumb along Mihawk’s hip, dipping down into those low riding pants. “You’d better keep telling me what you should have back then.”

“Shanks,” Mihawk moaned, undoing the lacings of his own clothes before clawing at Shanks’, desperate beneath the sway of that crooked smile. “I love you.”

The Emperor of the Sea forgot.

Nothing to do. Nowhere to be.

Shanks just had to make this man say those words again and again. It had been so fucking long. They touched and kissed every inch of each other in their mad rush to claim every moment before the dream faded away, until the swordsman looked over his shoulder, begging so pretty. So perfect.

“I need you, daddy,” Mihawk relaxed, ready. “Need you, love you, want… mm, please…”

“I need you too, bright eyes,” Shanks hummed, fingers finding their way in, cool lube easing the stretch while he made his lover moan into the wrinkled sheets. “I need my pretty boy to let me love him. You finally gonna let me, Hawk?”

“Please,” he begged. The press of Shanks’ cock teasing at him was too much, and he writhed, shoving himself back until he cried out, earning the full force of that powerful body.

“Look at you. Knew you’d be so good for me, baby.”

His fingers caressed while he pressed that pale skin into the mattress, and Shanks let everything go, praising, taking, and hurting his lover until they both went fucking mad. Mihawk let himself feel safe in the pleasure and the pain.

Safe.

His lover made him cry, and bleed, and come, before laying his own claim. Shanks’ heavy cock filled him, on and on, leaving Mihawk twitching and whining. There they stayed, breathing, sweating, and whispering those words until they remembered.

“I’ve gotta go, Hawk... Will you still love me when I come back,” Shanks asked as reality returned, failing to hide all the true fear in his voice.

“My lover gone away to sea. I shall await thee,” Mihawk hummed, moaning when Shanks pulled away, his body still craving his touch.

“Are you writing love poems already?”

Mihawk could have stayed in that bed for days, but she was there in his mind. Still trembling from love and pleasure, fear followed him while he helped Shanks clean the evidence of their selfish lust, low chuckles still warming the air around them through it all.

“I’ll write poetry for you, my love,” he breathed, eyes fluttering at the new touches he’d earned. “But you’re right. You need to leave.”

Demands felt wrong, so the swordsman finished drying and dressing his lover, until the Emperor pulled him close, their foreheads pressed together while he tried not to succumb to his own selfish terror.

“I love you, Hawk Eyes,” Shanks let out one more time, while the memory of empty eyes burned through his soul. Y/N had helped both of his lovers, had helped him find them again, to hold them again, had helped them open up.

I owe her everything.

“I love you too, Red Hair,” Mihawk gave a true smile, shaky though it was. The voice calling for him to run was easily ignored with the gratitude and desperation rolling through him now. “Please–”

“Don’t worry, baby,” Shanks laughed, kissing those lips again before leading his deadly lover off the ship. “If I can win over Dracule Mihawk’s icy heart, then there’s no beast I can’t charm.”

~~~🔴🗡️🔴🗡️~~~

~~~~~~

~~~🌲🌲🌲~~~

“I’m fine.”

“Liar.”

Kat managed to pull a laugh from you while servants buzzed around, swarming like bees as you waited in the courtyard for your new life to begin.

Whenever a big tree fell on Sylvad property, it would be easy to cart it away, to sell it into little pieces, but this courtyard was built to show off one of your favorite family traditions.

The last few generations of Sylvad’s had refused to let a fallen tree be scurried away like something to be ashamed of. If a tree fell on a Sylvad estate, it was to be celebrated to honor the hard work and creativity that made your family’s name synonymous with power, wisdom, and enough wealth and status to rival nobility.

You sat on one of those dead trees, the trunk carved into a formidable, layered bench along the base of the manor, while the lantern lit courtyard stretched out toward the forest. On and on the bench seemed to go, covered with lifelike, and even life size animals trying to spring into your world from the fallen wood.

Childhood memories trampled over you for a moment, just like your little body had once tried to climb and claim this wonder of the forest. The obedient bees brought you back to the present, doing some last minute touch ups to your hair and makeup while they fluffed up your giant gown.

Asking why you were in a white dress before your wedding day had sent you into rigid silence once the rest of the ensemble was forced onto you.

Don’t bite the help. Don’t bite the help… Do deer bite people?

“I’ll be right over there all night, okay,” Kat’s voice pushed through the mass of bodies. “Make that face if you need me to step in.”

“There’ll be no need for that, ladies,” Uncle scolded, his presence scattering the hovering pests around you. He beamed at your sister while he patted her cheek, before sending her to sit with your sulking mother. Kat gave you a weak smile, leaving you on that extravagant bench while your uncle managed to sit beside you without mussing your dress.

The music may have been pretty. The lanterns lighting up beneath the golden, darkening sky might have been enchanting.

It was even possible that one of the men in that crowd of guests breaking through the treeline onto the stone pathway would make a lovely husband.

You tried to breathe, tapping nervously against the locket you’d stuffed into the corset of your dress since it hadn’t “fit the theme.”

What a feeling it was to finally know that love was real. Yet, such was your fate that you had to keep killing and burying the futile wish that you could have kept it for yourself.

All of these men are here to own me. Every single one.

“Don’t forget to smile, dear niece,” Uncle taunted, leaning close enough to warm your cheek with his words. He laughed at his little joke, while you tried to obey.

You were the white stag.

You were his helpless prey, whose sole purpose was to be hunted, mounted, and displayed. Nothing more than a tasty trophy.

The stupid, white antlers in your hair felt heavier with each moment while you watched your hunters stalk ever closer. The men had separated from their guests who were being seated so that everyone could watch your uncle’s little show, while the suitors formed a line.

“If you–”

“You already won, Uncle,” you cut him off, eyes scanning the edge of the forest while more figures appeared. “I’ll be well behaved venison from here on… what the f–”

“Smile.”

No fucking way.

Kat had followed your line of sight, and if your face matched the look on hers, you needed to shake it off now. The last thing you needed to do was offend one of these men that could squash you like a bug.

Sis was right. We should have asked for measurements.

Swallowing manic laughter at the thought, you split into pieces, becoming the hunted. The truest part of you watched the show from a deep, dark hole within while you smiled at Uncle Cedrick, although your body couldn’t hide the shivers that broke through.

“Smart girl,” he hummed, curdling your stomach before he pressed your hand into an old man’s wrinkly grip.

Your suitors had arrived.

“Giberson, lovely to see you. Let me introduce you to my niece. She’s—“

“The Cross Guild’s young CFO, if my sources aren’t mistaken? I can’t imagine there’s another Y/N Sylvad gallivanting about.” Giberson caught you off guard, and you were a deer in the headlights when his scratchy, white mustache tickled across your fingers.

His words had left you frozen, and he released your hand, seeming a little wobbly while he balanced with his jewel encrusted cane. The old man adjusted his pin striped hat, making his tall body seem even lankier in the matching suit.

“I shouldn’t be surprised,” Uncle Cedrick laughed, clapping the old man on the back. “You probably know more about the competition than I do. So, have you decided to join the game, or will you just be staying for the entertainment?”

This old man is one of the Emperors of the Underworld…

Giberson’s dossier had been the lightest you’d received, yet somehow that made him more frightening, along with his epithet; The Concealer.

“Hopefully I’ll have more luck at this wedding than I did at the last one I attended. Bodies just don’t recover the same when you get to be my age,” Giberson chuckled as he tapped his knee with his cane a few times. “Still, I may be old, but I can’t resist the offer to join in such a delightful game.”

“Happy hunting, good man. I’m confident that some time in Y/N’s company will put some pep back in your step,” Uncle encouraged, pulling an intricately carved arrow from a quiver at his back, adding to the vision of the dark hunter he exuded tonight. He handed it to you, giving you the illusion of choice.

You’d been told not to stand unless you absolutely had to, so you looked up at him through your lashes. Your painted doe eyes needed no help looking helpless, but you obeyed just the same. Giberson smelled of whiskey when he leaned down to accept the arrow from your grasp, a satisfied smile on those aged lips.

“Just watch out, little lady. These young boys aren’t done fighting yet,” he stepped back, nodding subtly over his shoulder. “It would be a shame to see such a precious thing get caught up in the crossfire. I’d rather like to avoid that fate myself this time around.”

“Not to worry, Giberson, we’re all here to enjoy a more civilized kind of battle. Although, the betting pools have already added a few extra categories for all the possibilities this month presents.”

The men ignored you now, but you had to keep your face mildly pleasant while you reminded yourself not to scratch it, so as not to risk fucking up the subtle deer makeup across your nose and cheeks.

Humiliating.

You were the only animal at the banquet. The only thing on the menu. Everyone else got to be human.

Well, maybe not everyone…

~~~🌲🌲🌲~~~

~~~~~~

~~~🔴🔴🔴~~~

“Are these supposed to be this fucking tight? This can’t be right…”

Shanks tugged and pulled at the dove gray pants he’d been gifted by Sylvad’s attendants, his head snapping up at the choked sound coming from his first mate’s throat.

“What’s wrong?”

Benn had changed quickly, the banquet already getting started when the two of them had stepped foot onto the private island. The older man had lucked out, easily fitting into the borrowed suit that was such a dark blue it was almost black, although he’d rolled up the sleeves, and traded the jacket for his purple cloak. Having some breathing room around his muscular arms made him seem slightly less annoyed since their weapons had to remain on the Red Force.

Benn was too distracted to care about their weapons at the moment though, wheezing while he watched his mighty captain try to stuff all of his bits into those tiny pants.

“Did you try the other pairs?” Benn failed to hide his laughter, having to clear his throat and look away.

“They're all the same size– He can’t really expect me to wear this?”

His eyes were wide, unconsciously shaking his head while he gaped at his reflection.

The tight, gray breeches seemed designed specifically to showcase every curve of his cock and balls. The soft fabric was tucked into black, knee high boots that a certain swordsman would have coveted, but Shanks felt like he was going insane with the urge to light the borrowed clothes on fire.

“No. I’m not going out there like this,” Shanks resisted.

“You said you’d do anything for her, captain. Don’t you wanna get on the uncle’s good side?” Benn’s laughter vanished while he draped a black cloak over his Captain’s shoulders, fastening the high collar around his throat. His thick fingers trailed down over the frilly, white shirt, checking the small, black vest that was little more than a girdle, before tying off his captain's sleeve. “This bunny of yours worth the tight pants?”

“Emperor Shanks, sir,” came a soft voice beyond the door. “The banquet is underway, is there anything I can assist– Oh I– Oh…”

He forgot what he was about to ask this poor girl when he opened the door, because the look on her face gave him everything he needed.

“You doing alright, darlin,” Shanks purred, touching one of the girl’s bright, red cheeks.

Benn chuckled, pushing through the doorway, and onto the stone path, ordering his captain to hurry it up.

“Y-yes, I am, sir,” she trembled, letting out a giggle when Shanks winked, and the sweet sound brought him back.

“Good girl. Why don’t you show us where to go?”

~~~

“You always strut, but I can’t remember the last time I saw you strutting like this,” Benn smirked.

“I can’t help it! These boots have heels.”

Shanks stuck out his tongue before they passed beyond the denser trees.

“You have been invited to join the game, Emperor Shanks.” The servant bowed her head while she gestured toward the center of the decorated courtyard. “I’ll lead your guest to his table now, unless you’d rather not accept the offer?”

“Why not,” Shanks beamed at her, though the sight of his competition made him fight not to sway on those uncomfortable heels.

“Looks like you and your tiny pants might be outmatched, captain,” Benn whispered, patting him on the back before following the pretty girl to a table full of enemies.

Shanks had barely made it here in time, and felt a twinge of guilt return while the last suitors moved out of the way, but the sight of her stopped the blood in his veins.

Twilight had crept into dusk, and the dancing light of the lanterns bathed her painted skin, her white dress, and ethereal antlers, seeming to glow from within. Y/N shone like a wounded star, bleeding out her light for all of these monsters to drink.

“The clothes suit you well, Emperor,” Cedrick purred, making his niece flinch. She hid herself away before Shanks could decipher what he’d seen behind her mesmerizing eyes.

“I had no idea that fashionable friends could be so generous,” he charmed, stalking closer and closer until he caught her cold hand in his. “Or that I’d have the pleasure of meeting such a gorgeous, little bunny again so soon. Sorry, you're a gorgeous, little doe, aren’t you?”

She stared while he pressed his lips to her knuckles, and he took in every detail, wishing he could just grab her and run.

She’s not wearing Buggy’s locket…

Before new anxiety could set in, Shanks had to swallow his rage at the sound of that voice.

“Either would make for a good hunt. The nice Emperor asked you a question, Y/N,” Sylvad taunted, tapping her thigh with a decorative arrow.

“It’s alright, bunny.” He gave her a crooked smile while she gave him nothing, so he turned to the smirking piece of shit by her side. “From what I’ve gathered, we might get to spend some more time together soon. Do I have that right, new friend?”

“I treat my friends very well, but family is everything,” Cedrick vowed. “There'll be plenty of time to discuss details later, but if you’d like to accept the offer to join this little game, then you may get to enjoy more than just our famous Sylvad hospitality.”

Shanks bought himself some time by letting his eyes rake over her again.

I’m a villain. I’m not here to rescue her.

“How could I resist?”

“Go on,” her uncle beamed with triumph, shoving the arrow into her hand.

The woman that had captured the hearts of the only two people Shanks had ever truly loved met her Uncle’s cruel gaze before looking back up at the Emperor of the Sea. Her eyes fluttered while she offered him the arrow, keeping her hands close to her face so that he felt her breath on his fingers as pulled the symbolic weapon from her grip.

His lips parted as he became trapped in her eyes again, although that haunting pull had been replaced by a desire so hot, it rivaled the stars. Y/N's bare need felt like a gift from the heavens.

“Thank you,” he breathed, twirling the arrow in his fingers while he bowed his head at that fallen star, before winking at her captor.

“Happy hunting, Shanks.”

~~~🔴🔴🔴~~~

~~~~~~

~~~🌲🌲🌲~~~

Giberson had finally stopped gossiping with Uncle Cedrick, so you became the prey again, smiling up at your next suitor.

Suitors.

You couldn’t help glancing toward Kat while her favorite pick stepped up alongside his brothers.

These men should have been intimidating, and they had been, for a moment.

Yet now, the three princes of the Germa Kingdom were all staring down at you like hungry puppies.

What the fuck?

“Welcome, Ichiji, Niji, Yonji. This is my niece, Y/N. It is an honor to welcome you to our humble estate.”

“The honor is ours,” one of the princes crooned, laying a kiss with almost too much pressure against your knuckles.

Ichiji. The red head is Ichiji.

Your mind rattled through everything you could recall while his green and blue haired brothers took their turns, their loose shirts and billowing capes moving prettily in the light breeze.

Somehow the word “prince” had made their blatant lust seem shocking, and you almost laughed at how fucking naive that was.

They were here to buy you, just like all the rest, and their royal hands lingered on your skin when they accepted their arrows.

~~~

“There you are, old friend!”

“Cedrick. It’s good to see you.”

“Mr. Iceburg?”

Excitement tore through you, and you almost leapt to your feet so you could hug your dad’s old friend.

Your uncle’s old friend…

Iceburg, the Mayor of Water 7, and the CEO of Galley-La.

You’d had an embarrassing crush on the man, even before he brought all of those shipbuilding companies under one name seven years ago, creating his own empire. Water 7 was your company’s most powerful, and profitable connection, so you’d spent a lot of your childhood on that watery island while your dad made deals with this handsome entrepreneur.

He’d always been kind, and funny, and had never ignored or patronized you like so many of the other business contacts dad had made you spend time with.

“Well, Y/N, don’t you look stunning,” Iceburg hummed, leaning down close to kiss your cheek. It was something he’d done many times, but your skin still flushed with heat as it always had. “I hardly recognized my little numbers girl.”

With your mouth hanging open, you felt like a child come face to face with her dream, only to find that the dream carried a bitter aftertaste.

But it still looked fucking good.

Your eyes traveled up and down his tall frame, snagging on the black, leather pants tucked into knee length boots. He had rarely buttoned his shirts all the way before, but now the loose fabric of his rust-colored tunic hung wide open, and you found yourself blinking up at the lovely frame it made around his tanned skin, and dark, blue chest hair.

“Don’t keep our dear friend waiting, Y/N,” Uncle Cedrick urged, tapping your hands with the arrow until you snapped out of your teenage fantasy.

“May I,” Iceburg asked, his eyebrow raising just a bit while he watched you nod.

He’s here to buy me. He wants to buy his friend’s daughter. Wants to…

His thumb traced over your wrist before he pulled away, the rough touch of a carpenter's hand making you shiver.

“See ya, girlie,” Iceburg winked, wrecking you for the next hopeful.

~~~

Luckily the next hopeful didn’t matter, although it felt like you’d just lost a safety net.

“I do apologize,” whined the most ‘boring’ candidate, Mr. Halvens. “I’m afraid I will have to decline. There are certain elements here that I cannot have my name associated with.”

“Not to worry,” Uncle laughed. “You’re welcome to stay for the banquet, although I'd recommend keeping your voice down if you plan to disparage my other guests again.”

The poor man went pale, and you were disgusted with your urge to laugh at his pathetic scrambling when your uncle’s laughter rolled over you first.

~~~

“Prince Fukaboshi,” you projected, staring up at the massive merman. There was a ring of what looked like a bubble around his waist, and his blue, spotted tail seemed to float just slightly above the ground.

You had prepared yourself for a merman.

Not for a fucking giant.

“I am looking forward to winning your heart, Miss Sylvad,” he charmed, although the effect was strange from almost two stories up. Fukaboshi's regal voice rushed toward you when he leaned down, and you tried to smile under that sharp face, that cloud of light, blue hair.

The arrow seemed to shrink once his fingers pulled it so carefully from yours, before he joined his guests at the edge of the courtyard. You could still feel the prince's gaze, like a cool weight over your skin.

~~~

How the fuck…

The fact that the next suitors weren’t even the tallest people you’d met tonight was insane, and you had to fight not to let panicked laughter escape while you were introduced to these two brothers.

“Thank you so much for coming. This is my niece, Y/N. I know she’s been looking forward to meeting you both, Cracker, and Katakuri.” Uncle Cedrick smiled at the frightening brothers, seeming almost giddy when he handed you their arrows.

Cracker leaned down first, and he had to be a couple of feet taller than… He also carried a fierce scar on his face, scraping across his right eye. When he grinned, his bright, pink irises seemed to eat you up, a near manic look behind them.

You couldn’t make sense of his clothes, so you tried not to look at the giant fucking crackers hanging around his belt, or at his light, purple hair that was tied into long buns that seemed to be crackling with fire.

Katakuri was even taller, almost as tall as the merman prince, but he went to a knee to get closer to you. His clothes were all leather with scratches and spikes artfully placed to look even more ready for violence. Pink tattoos kissed along his bare chest and arms, and the color went well with his crimson hair and eyes, but you couldn’t see more of his face below the fur scarf he had wrapped up to the bridge of his nose.

His eyes were intense, knowing, and the sheer size of him amplified his frightening, but lovely, features.

“Pleasure to meet you, Y/N. I hope that our families can join their strengths soon.”

The Charlotte brothers left you breathless while the courtyard buzzed with the sounds of guests enjoying their drinks as they waited for dinner to start, celebrating the thought of you being claimed by one of these lucky suitors.

~~~

Twilight had crept into dusk, and you let yourself take a breath, knowing that the line must be coming to an end. Everyone in your mom’s book was already here, plus Iceburg, and there couldn’t be too many last minute…

Shanks?

The Emperor of the Sea stood framed by the growing night, dressed like a wicked horseman on the hunt. He stared at you as though he were surprised to find you there.

As though this fucking traitor hadn’t broken his promise as soon as Uncle Cedrick had shown up. The image of Shanks leaning close, smiling, and flirting with your uncle at the Cross Guild’s party felt like molten metal through your gut. Then he’d run away. You’d seen him, that stupid, red hair slipping through the crowd, fleeing the vow he’d made to you.

Liar. Liar. LIAR!

Somehow you stayed very deep inside yourself after Uncle’s voice made you flinch, even while this filthy leech touched your hand. You couldn’t hear what he was saying while he talked to his new best friend.

You’re just another bitch for my uncle’s money, aren’t you? Disgusting trash.

You almost laughed. Almost let it out.

Uncle Cedrick tapped your thigh with the arrow, and the visceral image of shoving it into one of Shanks' poisonous, “soft,” brown eyes felt intoxicating.

Pathetic. You’re just like all the rest. The Great Red Haired Shanks is no hero. Just another piece of shit that would betray his love for some berry.

Rage and nausea battled for more space within you, until your uncle shoved the arrow into your hand, and you remembered.

I can't let Uncle see how much I hate him.

A wave of desire and power burned through you, and you let yourself feel nothing but need while you offered Shanks that weapon instead of using it against him. It felt as though you were possessed, but you welcomed the chaos of mindless lust, relishing in it when those soft eyes went dark before he finally got the fuck away from you.

Did he just fucking thank me?

Uncle started to address the crowd, and you knew you should be listening. You tried to be here, to survive.

Traitor. Liar. Leech. Trash.

Breathing felt impossible. Your corset seemed tighter now, making the hidden locket dig into your skin, reminding you that Buggy was all alone.

There had never been a chance for you to have true love in your life. Not the cursed heiress of Sylvad’s. Not with your Uncle’s plans.

Your sweet, lovely clown deserved better.

But Shanks betrayed you both. He'd abandoned Buggy after one conversation with Cedrick Sylvad, just as weak and worthless as your first two "loves."

Uncle offered you his hand, and you stood without knowing what was next, but all that came next was applause. Happy, little vultures excited for their next meal.

“Did you hear me,” he hissed at you before shrugging for the crowd. “I think our white stag is feeling a bit skittish, but that's nothing a little chase can't fix. The first hunter to catch her claims the first date!”

Chase?

“Run along now, niece,” Uncle Cedrick smirked, nodding toward the trees. Night had officially fallen as he led you down that stone path, the eyes of all the hunters following your every step toward the darkened forest. “You’ve got a ten minute head start, Y/N. Better decide which arrow you'd rather be pieced with tonight.”

~~~🌲🌲🌲~~~

Likes, comments, and reblogs bring me much ✨dopamine✨ thank you!!

Author's Note: Yes, I dressed Shanks up like Jareth the Goblin King. No, I am not sorry 😅

Who do you think is going to catch our white stag? I'm having so much fun with this game! 🥰🏹 Check out the poll below, or you can just tell me what you think about our lineup! I've been going crazy over it, especially since I try to stick as close to canon possibility as I can for some weird reason, lol.

Part 32

Operation Olive Branch has compiled a working spreadsheet of ways to help families fleeing from the genocide in Palestine. If you enjoyed this fic, and are able, please click the link to find a list of GoFundMe's, as well as other ways to help.

112 notes · View notes

thechekhov · 8 months

Text

Dungeon Meshi Quick Reacts

CH.31 (Dryad)

Marcille, your stick--I mean staff!

Sobbing, wheezing with laughter, crying. Boys........boys why are you like this.

IS THE PLOT GOING TO BE GETTING OUT OF THE DUNGEON NOW?

Did the orcs not point them in the right direction at least?!

Marcille, you look like shit. I guess you haven't recovered after that intense battle too well.... and this is bad news if you guys are now being herded into a labyrinth by that sorcerer.........

aww, come on. They're just a bunch of little guys! Look at em!

Lookit em.

MAKING THE WORGS WAVE THEIR PAWS GOODBYE NOOOO STOP IT THIS IS TOO MUCH

S-senshi..... Senshi.........do you think you're traveling with children? Senshi. Did you. Did you actually think you faced a red dragon with children at your side? Was that a logical thing you did? Was that really how you reasoned it out...?

Then again, I think Senshi MUST be older than all of them in comparison but still...........

Go, Chillchuck! I choose you!

My money is on the ghosts which are clearly numerous and common in this world.

👀

Oh?????

SENSHI, LET HIM LOOK!!!! DON'T BE A HOMOPHOBE!

Live slug Dryad reaction

Well now that seems extreme but I trust him.

So.... a cold...?

Oh for the love of--

You had me going there for a second.

I'll develop hayfever if it comes free with looking at ladies smooching all day, ffs. First world problems, guys,

Okay, on second thought, anthropomorphic allergens are kinda creepy.

Someone who's never read Dungeon meshi explain what's happening in this image.

Gotta say, improvised mastectomy was not on my bingo sheet.

I mean......NOW it is........

Their faces......they're so fucking tired of his shit.

........I........I'm with Marcille on this one............ ....please put those back.

Marcille and Essek would get along great.

That dryad was the one with the least amount of boobage, too. Trans rights, I guess.

Senshi draws the line at........fruit babies that don't yet look baby-like....? Curious.

And now we're back to smashing faces. What an excellent harvest of uncanny valley.

"I'll still eat it, though!" You know what that is? Growth.

C-can he... do that? Just learn magic without anything?

I mean, it's stupid to ask I guess. I know wizards exist. I guess I just thought this fantasy system required a knack for it?

What a big happy....... family.

Gods, the terror of having another adult try to babysplain sex to you. Every day Chillchuck wakes up.

#dungeon meshi quick reacts #dungeon meshi #dungeon meshi liveblog #delicious in dungeon #chekhov reads dungeon meshi

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yustea · 1 year

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Back to [Navigation], [Part 2]

Pairing: Ceo!Jongho x fembody!coworker!reader (gn pronouns)

Summary: After an unexpected turn from a creepy colleague, you’re left within the comfort of your cold boss, Choi Jongho. However, he leaves you with an alluring offer of something more…

Genre: angst, heavily suggestive, comfort, slight fluff

Word Count: 2k+

Warnings: reader!is!harassed, reader!cries!, making out, mentions of possessiveness!, claiming!, choking! and hickeys

Please let me know if I’ve missed anything <33

Bzz, bzzzzzzz.

Your phone vibrated with the soft echoing dingles of your alarm, gradually arousing you from your tranquil sleep. You yawned and stretched, taking satisfaction in the crackling of several bones along the curve of your spine. You sluggishly sat up, searching blindly for your phone, your hair and sheets a tangled mess. Once it was in your grasp, you quickly turned the alarm off, rubbing your face in tired motions as you took a moment to gather your bearings. You checked the time, squinting an eye in the process as the painful glare from your phone illuminated the room.

5:31 am.

With a sigh, you reluctantly crawled out of your warm, comfortable bed, making your way to the chilly bathroom as you scratched the back of your neck lazily. You twisted the sink tap, splashing cool, refreshing water across your face and neck, eradicating the last remaining hints of drowsiness from your body. You stumbled out to your wardrobe, hurriedly selecting a silk white blouse and a black pencil skirt, paired with a matching set of black lace undergarments for your work attire of the day. You strolled back into your bathroom, shutting the door behind you as you went.

You’ve been working for Choi Enterprise for the past two years under new CEO, Choi Jongho, whom overtook his father’s position as heir of the company for the past six months. Unlike his father, he exerted an intimidating and unrelenting energy that sent chills to your bones. He always wore a poker face and rarely ever spoke unless required to, more often than not resorting to unnerving stares and short, direct sentences when he conversed. Even the way he walked was domineering, his presence alone striking a quiver in your knees. It unsettled you… but also ignited a deep hunger within you. You couldn’t deny it - he was a handsome man, and his dominant aura just made you want to be railed by him even more; his strong, muscular arms choking you as he trailed bruising hickeys across your neck and chest as he possessively claimed you with each thrust. Is that too much to ask?

You brought a sharp slap to your cheek, snapping yourself out of your dreamy state. He’s your BOSS for god’s sake Y/N, you scolded yourself as an embarrassed flush began to bloom across your cheeks. With a shake of your head, you checked the time once more.

7:15 am.

“SHIT I’M GOING TO BE LATE,” you cried, quickly finishing your meal and slipping on your shiny black stilettos as you grabbed your purse and keys, and opened the door, haphazardly exiting your home as you headed to work.

Twenty minutes later, you arrived on time and stood outside Choi Enterprise, the tall skyscraper looming over your microscopic figure. With a deep breath, you smiled and entered the building, the echo of your clacking heels announcing your presence as you steadily walked to the elevator, swiping your key card as you entered and selecting your floor number. Soon after, you arrived on your level and stepped out, basking in the bright morning light through the crystal windows. Just as you made your way to your desk, your coworker, Madison, rushed over, plonking an array of files and loose forms on your workspace and panted.

“Woah, are you okay? You seem like you ran a mile,” You asked concerned as she propped her glasses back onto the bridge of her nose. “We have meeting… with… Choi,” she gasped. “He wants.. see.. propositions… NOW.” A surge of cold dread ignited in your stomach, your jaw falling slack and your eyes widening at the sudden news. “Oh fuck,” you hissed, scrambling wildly through your draws to find your folio and USB. “I thought it was next week?!” You cried as panic began to settle in when you couldn’t find your business proposals. “He moved it up.. to today.. two minutes ago,” she inhaled deeply, finally composing herself. “Julian said that he didn’t know what spurred his decision, but he looked furious.” That was never good hearing it first-hand from his secretary; he must’ve been really pissed.

Finally, you grasped the dark navy blue folder attached to a ziplock bag stapled to its exterior with a USB sealed inside. A wave of relief washed over you. At least I haven’t fucked up yet. “Okay, let’s go.” You briskly ran to the board room with Madison in tow, mentally going over your presentation and the key points you’ll be stating. When you arrived, you saw Julian waiting for you both outside, ushering you in with urgent motions. “Be aware,” he whispered behind you. “The beast has awoken.” You gave a small nod as you and Madison piled into the room, Julian closing the door behind him as he left to go escort Jongho. Silent chaos encased the room as everyone hurriedly shuffled around, bowing their head slightly in acknowledgment as they passed. You sat at your designated seat, grateful for your earlier preparation as you let out a long breath, sinking into the fabric of the black chair.

“Well hello to you too princess,” a flirtatious voice spoke, bile rising within your mouth as an unamused expression plastered on your face. A faux tight-lipped smile graced your lips as you sat up, seeing the man that you despised most in the world sitting across from you. “Oh I’m sorry Rufus, I didn’t see you there.” He leisurely gazed his eyes up and down your attire, a sickening smirk twitching the corners of his mouth. You internally cringed. “You look gorgeous princess,” he whistled, a sultry look evident in his eyes.

You shifted uncomfortably and ignored his comment. Just as he was about to say something else, Jongho stormed into the room, everyone suddenly standing to attention and bowing in unison. “Let’s start,” he stated as he threw his file onto the table and sat in his seat, everyone following suit in silence. “Mr. Jones,” he called out as Rufus shot his head up. “Yes Mr. Choi?” “You present your proposal first.” Everyone turned their heads to Jongho, confusion and shock on everyone’s faces. Usually, he followed a particular order; starting from you and ending with Rufus. Why did he do that? you pondered, landing your gaze onto Rufus. He gulped, his eyes wide in surprise. “U-um,” all eyes turned to him. His hands visibly shook as Jongho waited patiently for his reply. Any sympathy drained away as a subtle smirk spread on your lips at his loss for words. Oh this was going to be good.

“W-we have nothing to present sir,” Rufus hung his head in shame as everyone held their breath. The room stood still. “Mr Jones, what is our company’s policy?” Jongho asked. “Be ready and prepared at all times, sir,” he responded. “And do you admit that you failed to fulfil this as an employee of this company?” “Yes sir,” Rufus poked his cheek with his tongue, embarrassment flushing across his neck. “Finish your proposal by next Tuesday and we’ll reevaluate your work ethic at this company,” he concluded, tapping his files together and leaning back against his seat as Rufus hung his head in humiliation and shame. Damn, your heart raced, that was attractive. “Miss L/N,” he turned his head to you, snapping you out of your thoughts. “Yes Mr Choi?” “Present your proposal for us please.” A small smile curved on your lips. “Certainly sir,” you stood up and made your way to the large screen, plugging your USB into the side and beginning your presentation.

After you finished, the room erupted in applause as you took a deep bow. Quickly, you gathered your things and sat back down. “Well done Miss L/N,” a proud smile splayed across his face. A surge of pride swirled within you as you nodded your head in acknowledgement. “Thank you Mr Choi.” “Now Ms Kahn, please present yours.” Ms Kahn nodded and stood up to present her idea. Suddenly, you felt something hard brush against your ankle. You flittered your gaze downward and noticed it was Rufus’ shoe trailing against you. You looked up as you met his enraged stare. Oh no, this can’t be good. The colour began to drain from your face as he slowly climbed higher, slowly inching towards your inner thigh. You shuffled your chair back in hopes to be out of reach.

His face contorted into a sneer as he dropped his foot, stopping his antics and setting his focus back on Ms Kahn. You eyed him disgustingly as you followed suit, calming yourself and ignoring the panic coursing through your veins. Unnoticed by you, Rufus knocked his pen onto the floor. He bent down to grab it, crawling further and further under the table. Coincidentally, his knuckle skimmed against your leg, causing you to jolt back as a pair of seething eyes witnessed the scene unfold. “We will continue this tomorrow, everyone is dismissed,” Jongho abruptly announced, interrupting Ms Kahn’s proposition and halting Rufus’ motions.

Seamlessly, he stood up, sending a flirtatious wink in your direction. Disgust morphed onto your face as you cringed, swallowing the fear of what could have happened if it wasn’t for Jongho’s impeccable timing. Just as you were about to exit, Jongho called out. “Except for you, Miss L/N.” Your body froze. What did he see? You turned around and bowed your head, obeying his instruction and standing still next to the doorway. Rufus was the last to leave as he strutted past you, a satisfied grin encasing his vile face as an angry gaze burned into the back of his skull. The door closed behind him. Silence engulfed the room.

Jongho stood up and made his way to you. He positioned himself directly in front of you, keeping a distance and his hands situated in his pockets. Your body trembled in nervousness. “Look at me,” he spoke softly. Startled by his gentle tone, you glanced upwards, noticing a forbearing smile on his lips. “Are you okay?” You looked away and bit your lip as you felt the familiar sting of tears brim your eyes. You nodded. Unconvinced, he gingerly stepped closer and gently placed a hand under your chin, tilting it towards his face. “It’s okay,” he cooed. “You’re safe.” Your facade caved as a tsunami of sobs escaped your throat. He carefully embraced your shuddering body, whispering caring and sweet phrases as you released your distress and fear into his chest. “I-I was s-so scared,” you choked. “Shhh, it’s okay, I’m here. You’re safe with me,” he gently patted your back in conforms as you continued to cry.

After a moment, your tears were dried, emotional relief encasing you as you inhaled a long deep breath. Jongho stepped back, his hands placed on your shoulders. “You okay now?” Your glassy eyes gazed into his as you nodded. He felt his heart skip a beat. Suddenly, your eyes widened at his soaking black shirt, realisation hitting you like a truck. “O-oh my gosh I’m so sorry,” you hurriedly pulled away to grab some tissues, only to have your wrists tenderly held in his strong grip. “Don’t worry about it, I’ve got some spares in my office.” He gazed at you in a soft and affectionate manner, causing you to shyly look away. He gently brought his hand up to cup your face, stroking your tear-stained cheeks. Your heart fluttered. “Don’t let him get to you, okay?” You bit your lip as you nodded, your adorable doe eyes striking a chord in his heart.

As if possessed, he leant down to your face, his warm breath cascading against you as a shiver crept up your spine. Delicately, he placed a peck against your lips, once, twice, and then kissed you. Your body froze in shock, taking you a moment to grasp the situation. Suddenly, he pulled back, realising what he just did. “I-I-,” he stuttered as an embarrassed rouge reddened his neck, shyly fidgeting his fingers. Admiration surged within you at his cuteness, now seeing the unveiling of a mere sweet, flustered boy twiddling his thumbs compared to the stoic man you usually know.

Ah fuck it, you thought as you stepped closer and brought his lips to yours in a passionate kiss. In an instant, he kissed back, your lips moulding one another’s in a slow, feverish make out. You prodded your tongue against his mouth, silently asking for permission. He let you in as you both battled for dominance, his hand snaking to the back of you head and waist as he pressed you closer. He carefully shifted positions and leant you against the table, trapping you in his hold, his domineering presence back again. He gently pulled away, eyes glazed with lust and hunger as he stepped away, admiring the view of you panting and disheveled against the table.

“Fuck..” he sighed, clenching his jaw as he resisted the urge to rail you senseless. He took a deep breath, collecting his thoughts and composing himself. He brushed his hair back and readjusted his tie, making his way to the door. “Meet me in my office at 6:00 if you want to continue where we left off.” With that Jongho calmly stormed out, leaving you perplexed and shocked. You just witnessed the duality of your boss.. and my lord both sides were attractive. Who knew such an intimidating, cold man could be so shy and sympathetic yet so hot and controlling? You glanced at the clock on the wall.

8:06 am.

Your head lolled back, huffing out a sigh. “Now I’ve gotta wait for fucking ten hours just to get laid,” you groaned, wondering what you were going to do with the dampness in your panties. Suddenly, you sat up. A devilish smirk carved your face as an ingenious idea came to your mind. Oh he’s going to feel it…

But so will you.

Part 2?

A/N: Hi again, thank you so so much for reading my fic :)) I was originally going to do this as one big fic, however, I ran out of time and so part two will be uploaded next week 12pm GMT on Sunday. (I can’t leave y’all on a cliff hanger for too long <33)

As always, please feel free to reblog on tumblr, give me any feedback (all is welcome), and if you have any fic ideas/thoughts please send them in my bio and I’ll make sure to tag you in the post. Have a wonderful day/night and I hope to see y’all soon <33

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summerclementine27 · 2 months

Text

tip me in kisses

summary: Layla is juggling two jobs in busy Manhattan where Harry is taking a mini vacation to visit friends. The two meet at the coffee shop Layla plays music at.

I stood on the small stage, tuning my guitar, the hum of the coffee shop a soothing backdrop to my thoughts. The scent of freshly ground beans mingled with the soft chatter of patrons, creating a cozy ambiance that I had grown to love. This was my first job since graduating university, and while it wasn’t exactly what I had envisioned, it was something. My parents had warned me not to study English literature, predicting the struggle I now faced. “You’ll never find a job,” they had said. “You’ll be stuck in a dead-end career.” And here I was, juggling two jobs in the city that never sleeps. At night, I poured drinks and listened to strangers’ stories as a bartender. During the day, I found solace in the melodies I played at this quaint Manhattan coffee shop.

As I set up for my gig, I couldn’t help but feel the weight of their words. My degree hadn’t opened doors to a cushy editorial job or a coveted internship at a publishing house. Instead, it left me scrambling, with little time to build a portfolio, write articles, or even work on my first novel. I was living the reality they had feared for me, and yet, in this moment, as I prepared to sing, I found a flicker of contentment.

I glanced around the room, taking in the familiar faces of the regulars who came for their daily dose of caffeine and music until my vision fell on a man who looked slightly older but not older than 30-31. He was tall, broad-shouldered, and effortlessly stylish, with tousled brown curls and piercing green eyes that seemed to hold a world of secrets. His tattoos peeked out from beneath the rolled-up sleeves of his shirt, and a sense of familiarity washed over me as he met my gaze with a soft, knowing smile.

I blinked, almost convinced my eyes were playing tricks on me. It couldn’t be him, could it? But as he casually adjusted the pearl necklace that hung around his neck, there was no mistaking it. Harry Styles was sitting in my coffee shop, watching me with an amused expression.

For a moment, I felt like the world had paused. The background chatter of the coffee shop faded into a distant hum, and all I could focus on was the unexpected presence of one of my idols. My fingers almost faltered on the guitar strings, but I quickly steadied myself, refusing to let nerves get the best of me.

As I finished the last notes of the song, the applause from the audience brought me back to reality. I gave a polite nod of thanks, my eyes inevitably drifting back to Harry. He raised his coffee cup in a silent toast, his smile widening as if he knew the effect he was having on me.

With my heart still racing, I stepped down from the stage, making my way towards the counter. To my surprise, Harry stood up and walked over, his tall frame cutting an impressive figure as he approached. “You were incredible,” he said, his voice as smooth and warm as his songs. “Mind if I sit with you for a bit?”

I nodded, trying to maintain my composure as we settled into a corner booth. “Thank you,” I managed to say, my voice only slightly shaky. “I wasn’t expecting... well, this.”

He chuckled softly, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “Neither was I. I just happened to be in the neighborhood and thought I’d stop by. Didn’t expect to find such amazing talent here.”

“Thanks,” I said, feeling a blush creep up my cheeks. “So, are you visiting New York?”

“Yeah,” he replied, taking a sip of his coffee. “I actually live in LA, but I’m here on holiday, visiting some friends who recently had a baby.”

Mitchel and Sarah, I thought immediately. But I caught myself, realizing how creepy it was that I knew so much about a man I’d technically just met. I just nodded along instead. “That sounds lovely. New York is a great place for a holiday.”

“It is,” he agreed. “What about you? Do you live around here?”

“Sort of,” I said. “I graduated in the spring, and now, approaching autumn, I’m just looking for odd jobs to pay the rent. I actually want to be a writer.”

“A writer, huh?” He leaned in, his eyes sparkling with interest. “That’s fantastic. What kind of stuff do you write?”

“Mostly fiction,” I replied, feeling a bit more at ease. “But honestly, I’ll write anything that pays the bills.”

He smiled, a slow, warm smile that made my heart skip a beat. “I’m sure you’ll make it. You’ve got talent, that’s clear.”

“Thanks,” I said again, this time with a bit more confidence.

“So, where are you from originally? I can’t quite place your accent.”

“I’m from Lebanon,” I said. “But I immigrated to the States as a child because my father’s an architect, and his work brought us here.”

“Lebanon,” he repeated, his voice full of genuine curiosity. “That’s amazing. I’ve always wanted to visit.”

“You should,” I said, smiling. “It’s a beautiful place, rich in history and culture.”

Our conversation flowed effortlessly, filled with shared laughs and flirtatious glances. Harry’s charm was undeniable, and despite the surreal nature of the situation, I felt a genuine connection forming.

Just as I was about to ask him another question, he glanced at his watch and sighed. “I hate to cut this short, but I’ve got to run. And it looks like you’ve got to get back on stage.”

“Yeah, duty calls,” I said, standing up with him.

He extended his hand with a grin. “By the way, I’m Harry.”

“Layla,” I replied, shaking his hand, feeling the warmth of his touch linger.

“Layla,” he echoed, his eyes locking onto mine. “I hope to see you again.”

“You know where to find me,” I said with a smile as he walked towards the door, giving me one last glance before leaving.

With a deep breath, I returned to the stage, my heart still racing from the unexpected encounter. As I started my next song, I couldn’t help but feel that this was just the beginning of something special.

For the next few days, I found myself constantly glancing at the door, my heart skipping a beat every time it opened. I fantasized about Harry strolling in, that easy smile on his face as he made his way to the counter, asking for me. I imagined him sitting at a table, his eyes locked on mine as I played, his presence making everything else fade into the background.

But he didn’t come. Each day that passed without him felt like a tiny disappointment, a dream fading a little more with each shift. Maybe I didn’t make the impression I thought I did, or maybe I was just foolish to believe he’d be interested in someone like me. I was just a girl playing guitar in a coffee shop, and he was... well, he was Harry Styles.

I tried to push the thoughts aside, focusing on my music and the familiar faces of the regulars. But there was always that lingering hope, a flutter in my chest whenever the bell above the door chimed. It was silly, I told myself, to pin so much on a brief encounter. Yet, the memory of our conversation, the warmth in his eyes, and the softness of his voice stayed with me, a stubborn spark that refused to die out.

When I finally lost hope, I decided to tell my friends. I hadn’t wanted to before, hanging on to the fragile belief that maybe he’d come back, that maybe our brief connection had meant something to him too. But days had turned into a week, and the door had remained devoid of his familiar frame.

We gathered at our usual spot, a cozy little bar a few blocks away from the coffee shop. I nursed my drink, the words tumbling out in a rush as I recounted the surreal encounter.

"You met Harry Styles?" exclaimed Emma, her eyes wide with disbelief. "And you didn't tell us?"

"I just... I didn’t want to jinx it, I guess," I admitted, feeling a bit sheepish. "I thought maybe if I didn’t talk about it, he’d come back."

Leila, ever the pragmatic one, gave me a sympathetic smile. "Honey, guys like him—they live in a different world. It’s not about you not making an impression. He probably just got caught up in his own life."

"I know," I said, forcing a smile. "I just couldn’t help but hope, you know? It was such a nice moment."

"Hey, it’s still an amazing story," Emma said, squeezing my hand. "And who knows? Maybe he’ll surprise you one day."

"Yeah, maybe," I said, though my heart wasn’t in it. I was trying to let go of the fantasy, but it was hard.

Seeing the glimmer of disappointment in my eyes, Emma nudged me playfully. “You know what you need? A night out. Let’s hit the town and remind you that there’s more to life than waiting around.”

Leila agreed, her eyes lighting up with excitement. “Yes! Let’s go somewhere fun. We all need a break.”

Despite my initial reluctance, I found myself swept up in their enthusiasm. We ended up at a lively club downtown, the music pulsing through the air and the energy infectious. We danced, laughed, and for a few hours, I managed to push thoughts of Harry to the back of my mind.

It was well past midnight when Emma, a notorious lightweight, started to wobble. “I think I need to sit down,” she slurred, giggling.

“We need to sober her up,” Leila said, glancing around. “The nearest place that’s open at this hour is the coffee shop you sing at, right?”

I nodded, the familiar mix of emotions bubbling up again. “Yeah, they’re open 24/7. Let’s go.”

We helped Emma out of the club and into the cool night air, making our way to the coffee shop. As we strolled in, I felt a strange sense of déjà vu. The place was quiet, the usual late-night crowd scattered across the tables.

I approached the counter, hoping Eddie, the night shift barista, could help us out. “Hey, Eddie,” I began, trying to sweet talk him. “Is there any chance we could get something to eat? I know the kitchen’s closed, but…”

Before Eddie could respond, a brown-haired man turned around from behind the counter. My heart skipped a beat as Harry’s familiar green eyes met mine, a look of surprise and amusement on his face.

“Layla,” he said, his voice a mix of surprise and warmth. “Fancy seeing you here.”

I blinked, momentarily at a loss for words. “Harry? What are you doing here?”

He grinned, leaning against the counter. “I was just grabbing a late-night coffee. Didn’t expect to run into you.”

“Yeah, I don’t usually sing this late,” I laughed, trying to keep the conversation light. “It’s kind of a rare occurrence.”

Harry raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “So, what brings you here at this hour, then? I wouldn’t have pegged you as a night owl.”

I shrugged, glancing over my shoulder to see Eddie placing three coffees and a muffin on the booth table where my friends were seated. “Just a spontaneous night out with my friends. We were at a club, and one of them had a bit too much to drink. We thought the best place to sober her up was here.”

“Ah, I see,” Harry said, nodding in understanding. “Well, it’s good to see you again, even if it’s under these circumstances.”

I watched as Eddie slid the items onto the table, giving my friends a friendly nod before returning to his duties. “Thanks for this,” I said, gesturing towards the coffee and muffin. “I owe you one.”

“Don’t mention it,” Harry replied, his eyes twinkling with amusement. “It’s nice to have an excuse to talk to you again.”

I felt a flutter in my chest at his words, a warm smile spreading across my face. “Well, I’m glad you’re here. It’s definitely a pleasant surprise.”

Harry’s gaze lingered on me, his eyes darkening with a hint of mischief. “You know,” he said softly, leaning closer over the counter, “I was hoping to run into you again. It’s been a bit of a long shot, but I’m glad fate decided to intervene.”

“Oh really?” I teased, feeling the chemistry between us intensify. “And what were you hoping for exactly?”

His lips curved into a smirk, his breath warm against my skin. “I was hoping to get to know you a little better. Maybe see if the spark I felt that night was just a fluke or something more.”

I raised an eyebrow, playing along with his flirtation. “And what do you think so far?”

He stepped a little closer, his fingers lightly grazing mine as he spoke. “I think it’s more than just a spark. There’s something about you... something that keeps me wanting more.”

The intensity in his eyes made my pulse race. I glanced over at Eddie, who was busy with other customers. My friends were now comfortably settled, Leila helping Emma with her coat as they prepared to leave. I felt a surge of excitement knowing that we had a little privacy.

Leila finally walked over to me, giving a nod toward Emma. “We’re heading out now. She’s feeling better. Just wanted to say goodbye.”

“Thanks, Leila,” I said, watching them leave. Once they were out the door, I turned back to Harry, feeling a thrill of anticipation. “Looks like we have the place to ourselves for a bit.”

Harry’s smile grew wider, his gaze never leaving mine. “Perfect. It’s nice to have some uninterrupted time with you. What do you say we make the most of it?”

I leaned in closer, my voice a seductive whisper. “I’d like that. What did you have in mind?”

He took a step closer, his hand brushing against my cheek. “Maybe we could start with a drink somewhere more... private. I’d love to continue this conversation away from the counter.”

A rush of excitement coursed through me as I looked into his eyes. “Sounds like a plan,” I said, my heart pounding with anticipation.

Harry took my hand, leading me to a quieter corner of the shop where the lights were dimmer, creating an intimate atmosphere. As we sat down, the tension between us was palpable, a magnetic pull drawing us closer.

He reached out, his fingers gently tracing the line of my jaw. “I have to admit,” he murmured, his lips brushing mine as he spoke, “I’ve been thinking about you a lot since we first met. There’s something so captivating about you.”

I couldn’t help but smile, feeling the heat rise between us. “And I’ve been thinking about you too. It’s funny how life can surprise you like this.”

His lips captured mine in a slow, lingering kiss, each touch filled with a growing passion. As the world around us seemed to fade away, all that mattered was the connection we were building, the electricity crackling between us.

Harry’s hand slid gently along my back, his touch sending shivers down my spine. He leaned in closer, his lips brushing against my ear as he spoke in a husky whisper.

“You know,” he murmured, his breath warm against my skin, “I’ve been thinking about this moment ever since we first met. There’s something so irresistible about you.”

I tilted my head slightly, feeling his lips trail soft kisses along the side of my neck. “Is that so?” I replied breathlessly, trying to steady my racing heart. “What exactly is it that draws you in?”

He paused, his lips lingering near my collarbone. “It’s everything,” he said softly, his voice filled with a hint of playful seriousness. “The way you smile, the way you talk, and definitely the way you make me feel. It’s magnetic.”

I shivered as he pressed a tender kiss just below my ear, the warmth of his lips making my pulse quicken. “You’re making it hard to concentrate,” I said, trying to maintain my composure while my senses were overwhelmed by his touch.

Harry’s lips moved closer to mine, his kisses growing more insistent yet still incredibly gentle. “I suppose that’s the point,” he said with a teasing edge. “I want to make sure you’re completely captivated.”

He pulled back slightly, his eyes locking onto mine with an intensity that made my breath hitch. “So, what do you say we continue this somewhere more private?” he asked nonchalantly, his fingers tracing a soft path along my neck.

“Somewhere more private?” I echoed, my voice barely a whisper as I felt a rush of excitement.

Harry’s gaze remained steady, a playful smile tugging at his lips. “Yeah, my hotel is just around the corner. It’s quiet, and we could have the place all to ourselves. What do you think?”

The invitation hung in the air, charged with the promise of intimacy. My heart raced as I considered the possibilities, the thrill of the unknown making my pulse quicken.

I took a deep breath, meeting his eyes with a mixture of curiosity and desire. “Lead the way,” I said softly, feeling a thrill of anticipation.

Harry’s smile widened, and he stood up, offering me his hand. “Follow me,” he said, his voice low and inviting. “Let’s make the most of this evening.”

With his hand in mine, I felt a surge of excitement as we made our way out of the coffee shop. The city lights sparkled around us, each step bringing us closer to the promise of a night filled with passion and connection.

By the time we reached his hotel, the cool night air had made me shiver, and Harry’s coat was draped over my shoulders. The soft, warm fabric enveloped me, carrying the comforting scent of him—earthy and faintly spicy.

As we entered the lobby, Harry’s hand stayed firmly clasped around mine, and I could feel his excitement mingling with mine. In the elevator, the space between us seemed to shrink as he leaned closer, his fingers brushing lightly against my arm. The elevator’s soft hum was a background to the rush of anticipation that filled the small, enclosed space.

When he pressed his nose against my temple, his lips brushing mine in a tender kiss, I noticed the faint scent of my Prada perfume lingering on him. It was a reminder of a splurge I’d once regretted, but now, as the fragrance intertwined with his own, I knew I’d made the right choice.

“Do you like the scent?” he murmured, his voice low and teasing.

I smiled, leaning into him as his lips hovered near my ear. “I do. It’s kind of like a signature for us tonight.”

Harry’s smile was almost imperceptible in the dim light of the elevator, but his eyes sparkled with a mischievous glint. “I’m glad. It suits the moment.”

The elevator doors slid open with a soft chime, and he guided me down the hallway to his room. His fingers were still intertwined with mine, the contact both reassuring and exhilarating. As we approached his door, his eagerness became evident. He fumbled with the key card, his usual grace momentarily slipping as he tried to unlock it.

“I’m sorry,” he muttered with a chuckle, his frustration only adding to the tension. “I guess I’m a bit distracted right now.”

I laughed softly, the sound mingling with his growing impatience. “Take your time. I’m not going anywhere.”

As he finally managed to get the door open, he pulled me inside with a gentle urgency. The room was dimly lit, creating an intimate atmosphere that made my heart race. Before I could fully take in my surroundings, Harry’s lips were on mine again, his kiss deep and insistent.

He backed us both into the room, the door clicking shut behind us as his hands roamed my back, pulling me closer. The kiss was heated and hungry, his lips moving with a passion that matched the intensity of the night.

As Harry’s lips moved down my neck, his kisses were a fiery trail that made my breath come in uneven bursts. His hands roamed confidently, finding their way to the curve of my chest, eliciting a gasp from me.

Between kisses, I managed to breathe out, “I—I’m not usually the type to do this.”

Harry’s lips hovered near my ear, his voice a low, reassuring murmur. “Believe me, neither am I.”

“No, I mean, I don’t... I don’t usually do one-night stands.”

“Who said this was a one night stand?” He confidently teased.

I could feel his warm breath against my skin, and the sincerity in his voice was almost enough to make me forget my growing unease. But the fact that I knew who he was and had been following his career for years weighed heavily on me. I had to get it out in the open, even if it was awkward.

“Look, I’m not playing around,” I said breathlessly, struggling to find the right words as his kisses continued to make my head spin. “I know you’re Harry...”

He paused, lifting his head up slightly from where it was positioned as he made a trail of kisses down my cleavage, to meet my gaze, his green eyes sparkling with a mix of curiosity and amusement. “I told you that myself, love. I know you know who I am.”

“No, but Harry, I know you’re—” I stammered, unable to find the words as his lips brushed my collarbone, sending a shiver down my spine.

He looked up at me, his expression a blend of tenderness and mischief. “Famous? A pop sensation?” he asked, his tone both teasing and understanding. Narcissistic bitch, I thought. But then, he had every right to be.

I swallowed hard, my mind racing as I tried to process everything. The excitement of the night, the realization of his identity, and the overwhelming connection between us were all colliding in a whirlwind of emotions.

“I heard your friends gasping and laughing. Darling, I’m well aware you know who I am. The only question is, will you let me know who you are?”

“God, yes,” I finally managed to say, my voice trembling with a mix of desire and vulnerability.

Harry’s eyes lit up with satisfaction, and with a deft movement, he began to unhook my bra, slipping it out over my dress. His touch was gentle yet deliberate, every movement filled with the promise of more to come. As he lowered me onto the bed, the world outside seemed to dissolve into nothingness, leaving only the intense, magnetic pull between us.

He took his time, lowering the fabric of my dress with a slow, deliberate motion. As the dress slipped from my shoulders to my waist, his lips continued their journey, kissing a path along my collarbone and down to the exposed swell of my chest.

He resumed with deliberate, heated kisses that trailed down my newly exposed chest, his lips and tongue exploring every inch with tender care. Each touch was electrifying, sending waves of pleasure through me. His kisses were slow and purposeful, savoring the delicate skin of my breasts, his lips lingering and teasing.

With an intoxicating mix of tenderness and passion, he gave each nipple his full attention, his soft nibbles and gentle caresses causing me to gasp and arch towards him. His hands roamed with a reverent touch, tracing the curves of my body as though memorizing every line and contour.

As the dress fell to my hips, Harry’s kisses continued their journey, moving slowly and deliberately down my stomach. His lips brushed against the delicate skin of my abdomen, each kiss a gentle caress that made me shiver with anticipation. He traced a path lower and lower until he reached the curve of my pelvis, his touch becoming even more intimate.

He paused for a moment, looking up at me with an intense, questioning gaze. His eyes, full of a mixture of desire and care, sought my consent to take this moment further. I met his gaze, my breath catching in my throat, and nodded eagerly, a silent affirmation of my willingness.

But as I reached for his dress shirt, my fingers fumbled with the buttons, trying to express my own desire to see him. I wanted to feel the fairness of this exchange, to be able to admire him as he had me.

Harry’s lips curled into a knowing smile. “I know, baby,” he said softly, his voice a low rumble of affection and desire. With a gentle tug, he began to unbutton his shirt, revealing his toned chest and the intricate tattoos that adorned his skin. The artwork sprawled across his torso, each piece telling its own story—elegant designs intertwined with bold, artistic patterns that made him even more captivating.

When he was finally shirtless, his bare skin was mesmerizing. The tattoos, combined with the way his muscles moved with every breath, made him look both powerful and undeniably alluring. His body was a testament to both strength and sensuality, a perfect contrast to the tenderness he was showing.

“I’m all yours, darling,” he said, his voice a seductive promise. He then returned his attention to my dress, his hands sliding it down my legs with careful precision. As he peeled away my underwear, his fingers brushed against my skin, revealing the heat and eagerness of my body, which craved the sensation of his touch.

“God, my angel,” he murmured, his voice heavy with desire as he took in the sight of me. “You’re so wet.”

A flush of shyness mixed with eagerness washed over me as his fingers began their tender exploration, rubbing my clit with a rhythmic, deliberate touch. Each stroke sent waves of pleasure through me, making my head fall back and a moan escape my lips. The sensation was overwhelming, like being lifted to a new realm of ecstasy.

But the true intensity came when I felt his tongue replace his fingers, the heat and softness of his mouth making my body tremble. He licked in slow, deliberate circles, his lips occasionally brushing against my sensitive spot, sending jolts of pleasure through me. I opened my eyes, glancing down at him. He looked so utterly captivating, his gaze meeting mine with an innocent yet hungry expression.

As he continued to lavish attention on me, I felt the gentle press of his finger slipping inside me, adding a new layer of sensation to the mix. His touch was both tender and intense, a perfect contrast to the heat building between us. The combination of his skilled mouth and fingers was driving me to the brink, making every moment feel like an exquisite dream.

“Harry, I can’t keep doing this,” I gasped, my voice trembling with pleasure. “I’m going to cum.”

“Then cum for me, sweetheart,” he urged, his voice low and filled with desire. “Let me taste you.”

As his tongue continued its expert dance, I felt the waves of my climax cresting. When I finally came, it was on his eager tongue, and he savored every drop, licking his fingers clean with a satisfied smile. He then moved up, shedding his pants and boxers with deliberate slowness. His body, though familiar, was even more breathtaking up close—every muscle defined, every movement filled with raw, compelling energy.

I couldn’t help but stare, my desire intensifying. His eyes flickered with a mix of urgency and frustration as he searched for a condom. He quickly scanned the room, the scattered clothes hinting at his busy life, and I felt a pang of self-consciousness as he left the bed.

He returned with a slightly frustrated look, rummaging through the bedside drawer with growing impatience. “Harry, it’s okay,” I reassured him.

He glanced up, a touch of relief in his eyes. “Yeah, I guess you’ll just have to settle for my mouth,” he joked, though his eyes betrayed his true longing and frustration.

“No, babe,” I said, catching my breath. “It’s fine. We can skip the condom. I’m clean.”

“So am I,” he said, his tone sincere but still carrying a hint of playfulness. “It’s just that…”

“I’m on birth control,” I interjected, “and you can pull out.”

“With you looking at me with those gorgeous eyes?” He chuckled, his expression softening. “How could I pull out of that?”

He positioned himself back between my legs, his lips finding mine in a passionate kiss. As he kissed me hungrily, I could hardly wait to feel him inside me. My desire for him was all-consuming, and I was eager to explore every inch of him.

When he finally entered me, it was with a deep, slow thrust that had me gasping. He filled me completely, and the sensation was almost overwhelming. His rhythm quickly became a steady, intense pulse, each thrust driving me closer to another climax.

“Come on, baby,” he urged, his voice a seductive command. “Cum for me. Let me feel you.”

His words were the final trigger, sending me spiraling into another orgasm. I moaned his name, my body shuddering with release while my walls clenched around him, and he responded with fervor, his own climax following soon after.

As the intensity of our shared moment began to fade, Harry lifted his head from where it had been nestled against my neck. His breath mingled with mine, both of us panting softly. His gaze met mine, filled with a mixture of satisfaction and tenderness. He leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to my lips.

“That was… incredible,” he murmured against my lips, his voice still heavy with desire. “I could get used to this.”

I smiled, feeling a warm flutter in my chest. “Me too,” I breathed, my voice soft and content. “Though, I might need a bit of recovery time.”

Harry chuckled, his eyes sparkling with amusement. “I’ve got you,” he said, lifting me effortlessly into his arms. “Let’s get you cleaned up.”

He carried me to the bathroom, my legs feeling like jelly as he gently set me down on the sink counter. “Just sit here for a minute,” he instructed, his touch tender as he began to clean me up with a warm, damp cloth. “You did amazing.”

As he worked, he found a pair of clean boxers and a white t-shirt for me. “Here,” he said with a teasing grin, “I hope you don’t mind these. They’re all I could find.”

I took the clothes from him with a grateful smile. “Thanks. I’m sure they’ll do just fine.”

Harry began to clean himself up, his movements efficient but relaxed. He glanced over at me occasionally, a smirk playing on his lips. “You look pretty cute in those,” he said, his tone flirty. “Definitely a look I could get used to.”

I laughed softly, adjusting the top. “Well, if I’m cute, then you’re practically irresistible.”

“Is that so?” he said, turning to face me, now dressed in fresh clothes. “And what else am I?”

“You’re charming, sexy, and way too good at this,” I replied, my voice filled with playful admiration.

Harry’s eyes softened as he approached me, brushing a strand of hair from my face. “I’m glad you think so. I was hoping we could spend the night together. I promise to make you breakfast in the morning.”

My heart skipped a beat at his offer, and I felt a swoon of excitement. “I’d love that,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper.

He scooped me up again, his arms wrapping around me securely as he carried me to the bed. The room was cozy and warm, and I felt completely at ease in his embrace. He laid me down gently and settled beside me, his fingers intertwining with mine.

As we lay there, the soft glow of the bedside lamp casting a gentle light, we talked quietly about everything and nothing. Our conversation was easy and filled with laughter, each word and touch deepening the connection between us. His presence was comforting, and I found myself lost in the moment, savoring every second.

With our fingers still entwined, I felt a profound sense of contentment, the warmth of his body beside mine a perfect end to an unforgettable night.

I woke up in Harry’s bed at around 6 a.m., feeling the gentle sunlight filtering through the curtains. Despite the soft warmth of the bed and the comfort of his arms around me, I felt restless and unable to drift back to sleep. I stretched, feeling the satisfying pull in my muscles, and decided to get up.

I slipped out of the bed, careful not to wake him. The room was serene, the only sounds the distant hum of the city waking up and the soft rustle of my footsteps. I walked to the bathroom, feeling the coolness of the tile against my bare feet. After a quick wash and a few stretches, I felt more awake but still a bit chilly.

Returning to the bedroom, I climbed back into bed, pulling the covers up to my chin. Harry was still deeply asleep, his breathing slow and steady. I felt a strange sense of awkwardness lying there beside him while he was still out. The thought of watching him sleep made me feel oddly intrusive, so I decided to wake him up.

“Harry,” I called softly, my voice a gentle murmur. When there was no response, I tried again, my tone a bit firmer. “Harry, wake up.”

It became apparent that he was a heavy sleeper, so I decided to take a different approach. I slowly slipped under the covers and positioned myself beside him, feeling a mix of excitement and nervous anticipation. Gently, I started to trail kisses down his chest, working my way lower until I reached his groin area.

With a mix of determination and tenderness, I took him into my mouth, letting my lips and tongue explore his length. I began with soft, deliberate licks, savoring the taste and feeling of him. I could hear his breathing quicken as I started to move my head up and down, creating a rhythm that seemed to drive him wild.

His reaction was immediate and intense. “Oh, Layla…” he moaned, his voice filled with a mixture of surprise and pleasure. “That feels amazing.”

I continued, enjoying the way his body responded to my touch. “You’re so incredible,” he murmured between breaths, his hands finding their way to my hair, gently guiding me as he writhed in pleasure. “You’re making me lose my mind.”

He threw his head back, trying to keep control but ultimately unable to resist the sensations. “God, I’m going to…” he groaned, his words trailing off as he came, his release filling my mouth. I swallowed, savoring the taste of him, then carefully adjusted his boxers back into place.

I crawled back up to him, my lips finding his in a tender kiss. He tasted himself on my mouth, and the realization made us both feel a deep, shared satisfaction. “I can taste you,” he whispered, his voice husky. “And it’s incredibly sexy.”

I smiled against his lips, feeling a flutter of joy. “I’m glad you think so. I wanted to wake you up in a special way.”

“Mission accomplished,” he replied with a playful grin. “You definitely know how to make an impression.”

I reached for the phone to order breakfast. “I’ll get us some coffee and something to eat. What do you want?”

“Make mine black,” he whispered, his voice still thick with sleep.

I relayed his request to the concierge and added a latte for myself. I also ordered eggs, trying to keep up with his whispers as he provided his preferences. “Do you want anything specific with your eggs?” I asked, trying to catch every detail.

“Maybe some bacon, and make sure they’re cooked well,” he said, his voice soft but clear. “And a bit of toast.”

Once we’d finalized the order, I got off the bed to stretch and get ready for the day. Harry whined playfully, “Don’t leave me here all alone.”

I laughed, “We need to brush our teeth and wash our faces, or we’ll look like we’ve been up all night.”

He grumbled but agreed, and we took turns in the bathroom. When it was my turn, I heard Harry’s muffled voice from the other side of the door, punctuated by the occasional chuckle. I came back to find him sitting in bed, wearing reading glasses and peering at a pamphlet on the nightstand.

“What are you doing?” I asked, amused.

“Trying to figure out how to sign into Netflix on this TV,” he said, looking up at me with a sheepish grin. “It’s like trying to crack a code.”

I laughed, “You look like a total grandpa with those glasses on. Let me show you.”

He made a face, “And you look like a kid trying to help out the old-timer.”

With a few quick adjustments, I got the TV set up, and Harry seemed relieved. “Thank you, you’re a lifesaver,” he said with a grateful smile.

“Anytime,” I replied, feeling a warm glow from our playful exchange. Just as we finished setting up the TV, the breakfast arrived. We settled back into bed with our food, enjoying the cozy atmosphere and the lighthearted banter.

As we ate and watched TV, our fingers intertwined, and we exchanged glances filled with affection. The day stretched out before us, and for now, I felt perfectly content, wrapped in the comfort of his presence and the simple joy of a shared morning.

#harry styles imagine #harry styles smut #harry styles one shot

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elliebyrrdwrites · 2 months

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Dramione Drabble 31

DISCLAIMER: It’s come to my attention that Ron Bashing is very upsetting to some readers. So , please do note that this post uses the Ron Weasley tag because he is a significant character in this particular story, also this is his POV . HOWEVER, please mind that this also includes a Ron bashing tag. If you are offended by Ron bashing, don’t bother.

I had to write this one, the inspiration hit and I’ll be in LA all day tomorrow visiting my sister. So here we go! Also, I’m adding to the next chapter on ao3, so it will be a minute before I post it.

Ron had mixed feelings about working the night shift on the beat. Before they were ordered to have a partner with them at all times, he’d been able to pop into Hermione’s or even Parvati’s while on patrol. Some nights, he was able to visit both witches.

He wasn’t proud of what he had done to Hermione. Parvati had been aware, from the beginning, that he had no intention of leaving Hermione. She was his til the end. And he was hers.

The thing with Parvati wasn’t serious and she had been okay with that. It was just a way to get that little bit extra he wasn’t getting with Hermione. He had assumed that she was content, if not happy, with their love life. He didn’t want to hurt her feelings by telling her that he needed more.

But, what if she had been severely disappointed. Maybe that was why she never complimented him, never praised him, never rolled off of him in a state of pure bliss.

With Hermione, it was always straight to work. She’d have to make tea, or clean her kitchen, or catch up on paperwork.

What if she wasn’t satisfied and that was why she kept busy after? What if she was seeking that little extra bit that Ron couldn’t give her from someone else.

What if that someone was Malfoy? He seemed to sordid type to get off on hitting his women or choking them. Hermione was not that kind of girl. She never asked Ron for anything naughty.

But Ron watched her, wondering. She avoided eye contact with him whenever they passed by one another. Ron would fantasize about grabbing her hand, pulling her into an office. Anyone’s office, it didn’t matter. Whichever one was nearby. And he’d go down on her and make her cry and shout out his name. She’d thank him for being so good to her, for making her cum so hard. Ask him to take her back. You know, shit like that. Something fantastical. Something erotic.

Ron would stop at the end of the hall and watch her.

With Malfoy, she’d look right into his creepy pale eyes and smile. She’d look at his bruised face, the dried blood on his lip that never seemed to go away and her eyes would fucking light up.

Hermione would look right into his face and see something in or past all of those sneers and scowls. She was blind to the monster lurking within.

Even worse now, she resembles him. The scowls and the sneers have migrated and taken residence on her beautiful round features, her eyes just as cold and pale as Malfoys.

She was scary, now. Other Aurora avoided her gestate, shivered when they thought she wasn’t looking. Whispered about her behind her back.

And now her and Harry were both looking at Ron like he was the monster. Ron was only human, and humans were animals. Fucking was just a natural need. It delivered the endorphins that were desperately needed after the war, after losing his brother.

Everyone did it. Every being did it. The birds and the bees and all that shit. It’s just that when Ron got off, he needed to be told what a good, sweet boy he was. That he was a hero., a savior. Someone worthy.

But sometimes, once upon a time, Hermione would look at him like he was. He missed it. Fuck, he missed her. It’s a terrible thing. That, even though Ron had fucked up and he still had Parvati, he didn’t want to give up Hermione. He loved her body as much as any others, probably more. No man enjoyed accepting the idea that he would no longer have it to himself. Maybe never again.

And Ron certainly didn’t accept the fact that Malfoy might be the new proud owner of that particular one.

“Hey, Weasley.”

Oh, right. The other reason he hated these shifts. Not only could he not drop by Hermione’s, he was permanently stuck with Anthony Goldstein. He wasn’t a terrible bloke. But he was shifty, a bit off. His movements were jerky, timid. He looked like somebody who didn’t belong on the force. He looked like someone who was thrown into it, forced to become an Auror and had never accepted that fact.

Ron pinched his lips together, and pulled his eyes from the corner building where Hermione lived. Her windows were dark. She probably wasn’t home.

He nodded to Goldstein in acknowledgment.

“Isn’t this the apothecary where Hermione and Malfoy got into that altercation?”

Goldstein was staring into window of the shop. The lights were dim, as if to still keep the potions advertised on display in the front window. Or perhaps the witch who ran the place was still inside, cleaning up.

Ron stepped up beside him. The wizard flinched and Ron couldn’t help the roll of his eyes. “Yeah,” He sighed. “That’s the one.”

Goldstein looked up at and stared. Ron could feel his eyes assessing him. “You and Malfoy don’t get along, do you?”

Ron dug his hands into his pockets, thumbing the wand nestled inside and laughed. One short, derisive bark. “What makes you think that, Goldstein?” He frowned and shook his head, a little ashamed at the acidic tone of his voice. “Look, let’s just say that the day where every day of my life stops revolving around Malfoy, will be the best day of my life.”

Anthony was still staring at him. Ron was staring at the window, at the dim light of the back room, a shadow moving. Through his peripheral, Goldstein was nodding slowly. He might have been grinning, but that wouldn’t make any sense. Goldstein hated conflict, he was a bit of a coward

But then Goldstein moved for the door. “We should go in.”

Ron shook his head. “Nah, she’s closing up. Besides it wasn’t our crime scene.”

“I heard she hadsa love potion. It might help mend whatever went sour between you and Hermione.”

“No thanks, mate.” Ron chuckled nervously. “I’ve had one too many experiences with love potions.”

“But, this isn’t like Amortentia. This one helps to…alter the way you think.” Goldstein voice was less flinchy and more persuasive than he had ever heard him. It was unsettling.

“That’s Barmy.”

“The witch who brews it says it allows you to connect with your lover on some kind of mental or spiritual level.”

“I’m not slipping ‘Mione anything, Goldstein.”

“You wouldn’t have to.” He opened the door and said, as he stepped inside. “You take the potion. All you need is a strand of her hair to add to it.”

And then Goldstein was disappearing into the shop and into the dark shadows of the potion filled shelves. “What the — Goldstein!” Had the wizard lost his mind?

Stepping into the Apothecary sent a shudder down Ron’s spine. The hairs on his arms stood. Something was definitely off about this. But the witch didn’t seem to notice or care about the jingle of the bell on her door, and Goldstein was lost somewhere in the vast array of potions. Some of them glittered, some were glowing in the dark. Some were as dark as the sky outside.

None of them seemed ordinary. Most of them, Ron didn’t recognize.

But he crept along the shelving, the habit of staying quiet and undetected hard to break. He passed shelves labeled things like Elixirs for Life. Others with the words, Poisons to live by. But when Ron reached the shelf that was labeled, Love, Sex and other maladies, he knew he was in the middle of something shady.

Of course, none of that helped him to prepare for the figure that leapt out in front of him, or for the wand that was pointed directly at his temple before the voice whispered the incantation that would turn his brain into dough, softening into something that could be kneaded and molded into surrendering. Ron’s entire body locked up, his mind went quiet.

Nothing was the same. Nothing was known. His name, his desires, his job.

No, for Ron, everything had changed the second that voice had uttered the word to end it all, “Imperio.”

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thepumpkin-queenn · 1 day

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Halloween This or That 🎃

1. Scary pumpkin or Cute pumpkin

2. Creepy dolls or Creepy clown

3. Skeletons or Zombies

4. Trick or Treat

5. Broom or Wand

6. Ghosts are real or Ghosts are fake

7. Halloween party or Scary movie

8. Face mask or Face paint

9. Scary pumpkin carve or cute pumpkin carve

10. Scary costume or Funny costume

11. Hannibal Lector or Norman Bates

12. Warlock or Werewolf

13. Abducted by aliens or Turned into a zombie

14. Black cat or Orange cat

15. Michael or Jigsaw

16. Mummy or Grim Reaper

17. Chocolate or Gummies

18. Take two or Take the whole bowl

19. Monster cookies or Eyeball punch

20. Give out candy or Turn off your lights

21. Gory films or Thrillers

22. Heros or Villains

23. Orange or Black

24. Bat or Owl

25. Halloween parade or Halloween photoshoot

26. Dracula or Frankenstein

27. Candy or Popcorn ball

28. Hocus Pocus or The Nightmare Before Christmas

29. Corn maze at night or During the day

30. Freddy or Jason

31. Last one alive or First one to die

32. Cute decorations or Scary decorations

33. Morticia Addams or Elvira

34. Halloween handmade crafts or Store bought crafts

35. Big pumpkin or Small pumpkin

36. Warm Halloween night or Chilly Halloween night

37. Trick-or-treat or Hand out candy

38. Sleep in a cemetery or Sleep in an abandoned house

39. Scary stories or Ouiji board

40. Pumpkin seeds or Pumpkin pie

41. Go all out on your costume or Go basic

42. Paint your pumpkin or Carve your pumpkin

43. Witches or Demons

44. Ghost or Mummy

45. Reese's or Hershey's

46. Fog machine or Spooky sounds

47. Friday the 13th or 'It's the Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown

48. Homemade costume or Store-bought costume

49. Haunted hayride or Haunted house

50. Werewolf or Vampire

51. Skeptical or Superstitious

52. Fake blood or Fake spiders

53. Always hiding or Frequently jumpy

54. Sees ghosts or Good at screaming

55. Goodbye October or Stay spooky

56. Good witch or Bad witch

57. Beetlejuice or The Addams Family

58. Trunk or Treat or Fall Festival

59. Good or Evil

60. Chucky or Annabelle

Doing this as an ask. So ask away 👻

#halloween #october #october 31 #halloween ask #halloween asks #Halloween this or that

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bigdumbbambieyes · 11 months

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Happy Halloween, lovelies!! 🎃 Day 31: Your Choice for @harringrovekinktober what better way to celebrate than with some SFW ghost!Billy fun?

It’s Friday night, it’s Halloween, and Steve’s babysitting.

Which, at this point in his life, he should be used to by now – but it still kinda sucks. He cares about the kids, sure, but he’s not crazy about them. He could be hanging out at Robin’s, watching horror movies and binging on candy and talking about girls and whatever, but no.

Dustin had invited him to the little hangout in Mike’s basement after Trick-or-Treating and, well…the two of them have been distant lately, so. He said yes. Because Dustin was an annoying little shit with a smart mouth, but he was kind of like the younger brother Steve never had. And Steve wanted to enjoy that just a little longer, until either Dustin became totally bored with him or they kids no longer needed him around.

Which were both very depressing thoughts, so. Steve had agreed to go and handed out candy with his parents until eleven o’clock rolled around and he dipped, saying goodnight to the two of them before making his way over to the Wheeler’s.

Nancy had answered the door, gave him an awkward little smile like she always does these days, and he’d made equally awkward small talk before leaving to go and check on the kids downstairs.

“Steve!” Dustin called out with a smile, actually excited to see him, and it made Steve feel warm.

A grin overtaking his face for the first time all evening, Steve returned the smile and happily did their little handshake – ignoring the eye rolls and laughter pointed at them from the other kids scattered about the room.

The entire Party was there, including El, which was nice to see. Steve couldn’t remember the last time he saw her out, especially after…after…

His eyes land on Max, who’s pale and managing a smile from where she’s curled up on the floor with El, the two of them sorting through their candy piles.

For a second, Steve sees flashes of fireworks and hears the distant screams of Billy in his mind, and shakes them away.

“Hey.” He greets her with a small smile and nod, which she returns before her tired eyes fall to where El’s trying to trade her Milky Way for Max’s Reese’s cups.

“You’re just in time!” Dustin says with excitement, his eyes bright as he tugs on Steve’s sleeve, “C’mon!”

“Just in time for what, exactly?” Steve asks with a furrowed brow, following the kid to the table where they all usually play DnD. But, instead of a map and figures scattered across it, there’s an Ouija board, and Steve stops in his tracks. “Where did you find this?” He asks, his tone serious.

“Will and I found it earlier,” Mike pipes up from around his lollipop in his mouth, tucked away in his cheek, “It’s rad, right?”

“Um, no?” Steve baulks, flounders a bit as he motions to the board with his hands, “Do–you–I–” he huffs and runs a hand through his hair, hating to be That Guy but he sighs, “This isn’t a good idea.”

As expected, a chorus of moans and groans follow him as the kids all head to the table, surrounding it, each of them yelling things like ‘don’t be lame, Steve’ or ‘it’s Halloween, it’s the perfect time to try it’ and other equally as stupid.

The only other person who looks weary is Max, her arms crossed over her chest as she eyes the board quietly.

“C’mon, Steve, just once!” Lucas says, “It’s probably not even real. This kinda shit is always just made up.”

“Yeah, my brother tried it once and he said it didn’t work,” Will adds, his brown eyes looking at Steve, pleading quietly, “Please?”

Fuck.

It’s a bad idea. Stupid, really. And while Steve doesn’t believe in ghosts because he’s never come across one, he’s still seen enough creepy shit in his life that he’s not eager to go poking around for more. Especially tonight of all nights.

And not mention that he’s used one of these before, when he was their age. He still swears the planchette moved on its own and he’d sworn to himself that he’d never touch one of these things again.

Still, though. He can’t…show that he’s even a little spooked, because the kids would never let him live it down.

Blinking out of his thoughts, he sees every pair of eyes on him, quietly waiting for his approval.

Which, in a way, is nice. That these kids respect him enough to wait for his permission. Not that they really need it – they usually do whatever they want, anyway.

Giving in, he sighs, “Yeah, sure, whatever.” And they burst into excitement, which he’s quick to dampen with, “Just once! Once.” And they all agree eagerly.

As they all circle the table, fingertips going to the planchette, Steve feels his stomach knot uneasily. The room is dim already, Dustin having shut off the lights except for the light above the table, and the kids all look at each other as the realization dawns on them that no one knows how to do it.

“You gotta be shitting me.” Steve huffs in amusement, his mouth twitching with a poorly concealed smile.

“You spoke first!” Mike grins triumphantly, “That means you gotta ask a question!”

Steve’s smile drops and his brows furrow, “What? That’s not a rule.”

“It is now.” Dustin smirks, just as smug.

“Ugh, fine, whatever,” Steve huffs, licking his lips as he eyes the board and says, “Hello. Is anyone there?”

A few seconds pass, nothing happens.

Until the planchette slowly moves to ‘Yes’.

The kids all gasp and freak out a little, but Steve’s quick to shush them, “Shut up! Relax, just…chill.”

He wracks his brain for another question, ignores the tingling at the base of his spine as he asks, “Do you know what day it is?”

“The fuck kinda question is tha–” Dustin starts but quickly snaps his mouth shut as the planchette begins to spell out a word.

Just one word: H-A-L-L-O-W-E-E-N.

The kids all giggle and gasp again, clearly entertained and unsure of how authentic it actually is.

“Do you…know my name?” He asks, eyes trained on the board.

S-T-E-V-E.

“Holy shit!”

“No way!”

“Who’s moving it?!”

“Oh, my god, shh!” Steve silences them again, ignoring the chill up his back as he eyes each of the kids, trying to see which one of them is doing it – but they all look innocent.

Looking down at the board again, Steve asks, “What’s your name?”

Steve’s throat closes up.

His eyes go to Max.

Horror slowly dawns on her face, his eyes widening and jaw dropping.

He feels ice cold.

The room is silent for a moment, until Max gasps quietly, “Billy? Is it really you…?”

The planchette moves to ‘Yes’ and her hand goes to her mouth, her eyes welling with tears as she tries and fails to muffle a sudden sob, El quickly wrapping her up in a hug as the boys all begin to freak out, hand after hand leaving the planchette until Steve’s the only one.

His gut twisting, anger flaring, he looks at the boys and snarls, “Hey! This shit isn’t funny, whoever’s doing it, knock it off–”

The planchette keeps moving under his fingertips and he looks down at it, eyes wide as it spells.

B-O-O.

Snatching his hand away, Steve points an angry finger at the kids as Max cries in El’s arms, “Okay, that’s it! We agreed on once and we did it once–”

“Steve, you can’t–” Dustin tries, but Steve cuts him off.

“–No! Whatever the fuck that was, it’s done! I’m done. I don’t need this…this ghost bullshit ruining my night, okay? You can all have your fun but I’m out!” He looks to El and Max, “C’mon, I’ll take you two home, if you want.”

Max is quick to nod and gather up her things, El following suit, but he doesn’t wait for them – he goes back upstairs, hearing Dustin call, “You have to say goodbye to end it!”

Yeah, sure.

Slamming his car door shut, Steve grips his steering wheel and closes his eyes, tries to even his breathing and calm his racing heart.

Because what the fuck?

It wasn’t real. It wasn’t. It was just some fucked up prank the boys were doing and it backfired hard.

Although, he does jump when the girls open the doors to his backseat and climb in, but he sighs softly in relief when he realizes it’s just them.

And not Billy Hargrove back from the dead or something.

He looks back at them and at Max, who’s quietly wiping away the tears under her eyes. Quietly, he asks, “You okay?”

She glowers at him a little, obviously not okay, so he nods silently and turns back to start his car.

He drops them off and makes sure they’re inside before pulling away and heading back home, turning up his music to drown out the annoying memory of Dustin calling after him in the basement, something about not saying ‘goodbye’ and having to–

The radio buzzes with static and Steve frowns, winces a little as it gets louder, the pop song playing suddenly mixing with something heavier, a sad guitar, the lyrics creeping through the static to sing, “You just left when I begged you to stay, I've not stopped crying since you went away, you went away, you went away–”

He twists the volume all the way down and grips his steering wheel, swallowing thickly around a suddenly dry throat.

It was just…an interference. Signals crossing in the air, that’s all.

The volume stays at zero all the way home.

It’s not like Steve’s scared. He has nothing to be scared of, really.

Because there’s no reason to be scared! Nothing’s happened! He went to bed that night and woke up in the morning, feeling normal. His parents were their usual selves, too. There was nothing to worry about.

Except, he can’t really explain the way ‘Pretty Boy’ had been written onto his foggy mirror after a shower.

Wiping it away with loud squeaks from his palm, Steve had huffed and ignored the cold chill up his spine again, forcing the memory of Billy against his back in basketball practice away out of his head as he got ready for work.

But, even at work, it didn’t stop – tapes that he’d put up on the shelves ended up on the floor minutes later, knocked over and tumbling to the ground. The computer would freeze up or turn off while he’s using it without explanation. The door would shake a little, as if mustering up the strength to open, or like there was a strong wind outside rattling it, but it would never open.

Weird, borderline annoying shit like that.

At home, it was no better. Doors randomly slamming, scaring the shit out of him. The TV turning off whenever he was watching it, even with the remote far away from him. Once, when he’d left a notepad and pen out, he came back to find ‘BOO’ written on it.

And it had felt so…smug.

So Billy.

But, he refuses to believe that Billy Hargrove’s haunting him. It’s just not possible.

And besides, why him? Why not Max? Or literally anyone else?

He goes back to the Wheeler’s, a week after Halloween, in search of answers.

Mike answers the door and Steve immediately asks him, “Where is it?”

The little shit tilts his head to the side, acting clueless despite the amusement in his eyes, “Where’s what?”

“The fucking board.” Steve huffs, pushing past Mike and heading downstairs to the basement, feeling the kid right on his heels the entire time.

“It’s not down here!” Mike groans, “After you and the girls left, Lucas took it!”

“Took it where?” Steve asks as he looks around the basement, standing at the base of the stairs with Mike behind him, looking over his shoulder.

He swears he sees a shadow in the corner of his eye, so he chases it with his gaze, but it’s gone.

“He took it outside or something, I don’t know,” Mike huffs in annoyance, “We were all kinda freaked out so we agreed to keep it out of the house.”

Turning and looking at Mike, Steve frowns at him, “I fucking told you dumb asses not to do it.”

Mike rolls his eyes with a nod and turns to head back upstairs, “Yeah, yeah, I know!”

“Steve.” A familiar voice breathes into his ear, right behind him.

He freezes and his breath catches, eyes widening as he whips his head around, expecting to see Billy standing there but there’s nothing. There’s just the quiet basement, empty.

“Steve!” Mike calls and Steve rushes up the stairs, hoping the voice stays down there.

He finds the board outside the Wheeler’s house, behind the garbage bins. He’s lucky it was missed on collection day.

“Okay,” he huffs, setting it down on his bedroom floor and putting the planchette down on the board, crossing his legs as he sits down in front of it.

He hesitates, for a moment. And feels stupid.

But, he has to know.

Carefully, he places his fingertips on the planchette again and clears his throat to say, “Hi, um…Billy. Are…are you there?”

His eyes widen as the planchette immediately pulls to ‘Yes’ and stays there.

“Holy shit,” he breathes, licking his lips nervously, “Okay, um…” He furrows his brow,s “Why are you…following me?”

He refuses to say ‘haunting’.

It takes a moment, but the planchette moves across the board, spelling a simple explanation.

F-U-N.

It makes Steve huff a quiet sound of amusement through his nose, rolling his eyes because it’s just so Billy.

Even in death, Billy’s determination to annoy the hell out of Steve is still there.

Almost affectionately, he mumbles, “Asshole.”

Billy spells out I-K-N-O-W.

Which makes Steve tilt his head a little, wondering. “Are…are you in pain?”

The planchette goes to ‘No’.

That’s a relief Steve hadn’t known he wanted to feel. He feels his shoulders begin to relax, no longer lingering by his ears.

“That’s…good. Max will be happy to hear that.”

The planchette jerks and quickly spells out D-O-N-O-T-T-E-L-L.

Furrowing his brows again, Steve asks, “Why not?”

C-O-M-P-L-I-C-A-T-E-D.

“I think she has a right to know. She’s…honestly, she’s been a mess ever since Starcourt.” Steve frowns and worries his bottom lip, thinking back over the last couple of months and how he’s watched the life drain out of her slowly. “She misses you, Billy.”

Billy goes quiet at that, for a while. Steve doesn’t dare move his hand away.

Finally, after another long moment, Billy spells out B-E-T-T-E-R-O-F-F.

“You don’t know that,” Steve frowns again, nearly scowling now, “I don’t know if you’ve seen her, but she’s not doing great. You really scared her that night, y’know – on Halloween.”

I-K-N-O-W.

“You should apologize.”

S-O-R-R-Y-Y-Y-Y-Y.

So sassy. “Not to me, idiot. To her.”

C-A-N-T.

“Why not?”

N-O-G-O-O-D-B-Y-E.

Dustin’s voice rings in Steve’s ears then, ‘You have to say goodbye to end it’.

“So…” he worries his lower lip between his teeth again, “If…I say ‘bye’ to you, you’ll leave?”

The planchette lands on ‘Yes’.

Steve goes quiet then, thinking.

They never really had any sort of relationship before Billy’s death. They were rivals for a short moment, sure, but even then it wasn’t like Steve was vying to be top dog at school. Billy was always the one to pull on his metaphorical pigtails, always ready to annoy him or get a rise out of him for fun, but even that wasn’t much.

But this little board has suddenly opened up an opportunity that Steve doesn’t want to end so soon.

“Okay,” he breathes, “Well…you’re stuck with me, for now, then. I…I want you to talk to Max, because I think she needs it – I don't even know why you’re attached to me, she was there that night, too…”

N-O-G-O-O-D-B-Y-E.

“Oh, right,” he mumbles, realizing that – unfortunately – Dustin was right. He hadn’t said goodbye to Billy that night, so Billy’s tied to him.

He’s not even sure if that’s how any of this works, but it kinda makes sense.

P-R-E-T-T-Y-B-O-Y.

An unwilling smile tugs on his lips then, feeling as if he can hear Billy’s voice in his head as he thinks of the weird nickname. Because even after all of the pain Billy went through, he’s still…himself. In a way. Maybe without all that pain and misery, now.

With a mumble, Steve says, “Yeah, that’s me. Get used to it.”

A-L-R-E-A-D-Y-A-M.

Steve ignores the flare of warmth in his chest at that and mutters, “Okay, well…since we’re going to hang around for a bit, could you maybe not be a total dick when I’m going about my day?”

The planchette goes to ‘No’, and really, Steve should’ve expected that.

“Later, asshole.” Steve mumbles with a smirk as he pulls his hands away, feeling a little bit like he’s just hung up on Billy, and grins as he watches some papers get shuffled on his desk before his curtains are ruffled, blinding him momentarily as sunlight shines on his face.

He chuckles and holds his hand out in front of his face, shielding himself from the little sunshine assault, and wonders what the fuck he’s gotten himself into.

#harringrove #billy hargrove #steve harrington #ghost!billy #tw horror #very soft horror tbh lol #max mayfield #The Party #I kiiiinda want to continue it but I feel like we have enough ghost!billy content #and it's much better than this fkjgnkjf #so I'll leave it as it is 🥹#regardless I hope you like it!! it was fun to write!!#bambiwrites

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slvt4em1lyprenti2s · 1 year

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Protective

Originally posted on my Wattpad @MayaBishop_is_myWife

Jackson Avery x reader

Jackson POV:

Today was a slow day, crap. Never say it's a slow day when your covering the ER.

Bailey - "Incoming trauma, multiple vehicle collision and cyclist vs vehicle multiple crush injuries everyone be ready!"

What did I tell you? Anyway I go to get a trauma gown on and y/n comes up next to me.

Y/n - "If there's any open breaks I call dibs." Jackson - "Hey! No fair, whoever gets to them first gets it, okay?" Y/n - "Pleaseee, I haven't been inside an OR for days and I think I'm going insane. I pissed off Derek by accident and now he's letting Lexie scrub in and not me." Jackson - "Fine." Y/n - "Thank you so much!"

She exclaimed and then walked off to go wait for the ambulance. See, if it was anyone else, I would've stood my ground but, it's not just anyone it's y/n/n (your nickname) and it's obvious to everyone but her that I like her. But, oh well, she'll get the hint eventually right?

I walked outside just as the first ambulance arrived.

Paramedic - "Male, 31, crush injuries to the chest and lower abdomen, broken right leg and lacerations to the upper left abdomen!"

I see y/n face light up at the mention of a broken limb, she wants to do ortho so, she's into that kinda stuff. It's adorable to say the least.

We wheel in the guy on the stretcher and transfer him to the gurney. We begin to look at the chest to see if there's any liquid in the cavity and thankfully there isn't but. the abdomen began to swell so we knew he had free flowing liquid in there so we went straight to the OR.

Time skip to when they're finished and the guy's in post-op:

Y/n POV:

I'm currently waiting for this guy we just operated on to wake up. Jackson is bedside me, we're leanig against the nurses station as his eyelids begin to flutter. We make a b-line for his room.

Guy - "Where am I?" Y/n - "Sir you're in the hospital. You werew involved in an accident involving 3 cars and yourself, you were on your bike. Other than your broken leg, which means we will need to keep you in here for another couple weeks to monitor it and so Dr. Torres can look you over and plan your recovery, your other injuries were fixed in the OR. You had some crush injuries that ruptured your spleen but, because we got in there quick we managed to repair it. The other injuries were superficial. For the sutures we will get Dr. Sloan to come in and check up on them ever other day to make sure it's all healing properly. Forgot to mention, Dr. Sloan is a plastic surgeon and Dr. Torres is an orthopaedic surgeon. Any question?" Guy - "Not about the medical stuff but I do have a question for you sweetheart." Y/n - "Go for it." Guy - "You free tonight? Such a pretty girl like you shouldn't be without a boyfriend." Y/n - "Oh, that's very sweet of you but unfortunately I'm on call tonight." Guy - "That's fine, just come visit me sweetheart. A young thing like you could make any man feel better." Y/n - "We'll see, maybe I'll come see you maybe I won't. Goodbye sir." Guy - "Bye sweetheart!"

I walked out of the room with Jackson close behind me. That man is very flattering but kinda creepy. I'm going to put away his chart when Jackson stopped me.

Jackson - "Hey, what the hell was that?" Y/n - "What do you mean?" Jackson - "Don't bullshit me y/n. In there with the patient." Y/n - "Oh my god Jackson, I was reciprocating emotions it's basic patient care." Jackson - "Yeah comforting them and sharing concerns. Not flirting with them!" Y/n - "Okay wh- Jackson.." My voice calmed down a lot at this point and I looked him directly in his mesmerising green eyes. Jackson - "What?!" Y/n - "You're jealous." At this point I was giggling at him. His face contorted into a shocked almost offended face but I didn't care because the blush that covered his face made it obvious that I was right. Jackson - "Wha-what, no I am not." Y/n - "Yeah you are don't deny it." Jackson - "I am not." Y/n - "Yeah you areeee"

At this point he had accepted defeat and took the chart out my hand and grabbed my hand. I didn't question his actions and just followed him like a lost puppy. We came to a stop outside an on-call room and he opened the door and pushed me inside.

Y/n - "Jackson wha-"

I was cut off by his lips on mine. His arms snaked their way around my waist and pulled me close. My hands were around his neck as his soft lips moved against mine. He turned us around and gently pushed me against the door and pulled away briefly to speak.

Jackson - "I was jealous. Okay? I really like you y/n/n." I tried to speak but he cut me off. "Don't say anything unless you want me to stop."

He pulled me back in and locked the door. He walked me over to one of the beds and gently laid me down.

Let's just say I didn't get to go back to the patients room that night.

#jackson avery #jackson avery x reader #greys anatomy fanfiction #greys anatomy #fanfic

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the-irreverend · 1 year

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I'm sad to say that I cannot continue 31 Days of Creepy Faces. There are many things on my plate, and because of that, I'm unable to keep making time for this project.

Thanks for enjoying it while it lasted.

#i'll think of something else to do for the season don't worry #follower exclusive #31 days of creepy faces #31 creepy faces for 31 days #announcement

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azurlily · 1 year

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Day 6 of 31 of the yandere month May challenge. This yandere is extremely creepy in the sense that it's sort of non-con, but not at all at the same time. I also think Sevika is naturally a very intense almost yandere, so this isn't like the others. You'll see.

Also a reminder to everyone this is the last month you can request a specific type of reader for free. After this month it becomes commission work. Ask any questions in either DM or on my asks/requests.

Sevika gets pissed when you go out on a mission with Jinx. She teaches you how to obey orders.

Yandere!Sevika SMUT

There are many dumb things that you can do in your lifetime. Stealing from someone important, lying about your job details, and worst of all pissing Sevika.

How did this even happen? Well you and Jimx have been getting more buddy buddy. So...why not go up to Piltover with her?

You told Sevika about your plans, she insisted you stay home. You told her it wasn't a big deal, and that it'd be good for you and Jinx to get along.

"No, and that's final. Your aren't going anywhere princess, so don't even try. Besides, you're in better condition, and our relationship has been doing better. Let's not ruin it."

Sevika and you had been fighting these past couple months. She wouldn't apologize for taking you from your house suddenly. She said it was just because she wanted fo see you. It took about 2 weeks for her to apologize and when she did, it wasn't very conventional. For her at least.

"Yes- flowers. They're yours, I-uh. I apologize."

That's all she told you before forcing you into a hug. Sevika only apologizes once in a blue moon. The apology ended in sex, of course.

Anyway, she gave you a bad vibe when she looked at you like that. Sevika for the life of herself would never hurt you, but she would intimidate. Sevika loving you basically secures you safety.

You fought with her saying that Jinx isn't a child and that neither are you. You both can do what you want. She rolled her eyes and slapped you ass.

"Mhm, you ain't a kid, but you act as stupid as one. Now, no going with her, I'm serious."

You asked her why and she kissed you on your forehead and left. You didn't get an answer and now you were frustrated. So, of course, knowing it'll blow up in your face later.

You and Jinx were almost caught. You got grazed by multiple bullets, and were in a good bit of pain. You were in a lot of pain, and Jinx felt like an ass for taking you with her.

When you two got back Jinx was teln by Silco for a "short" lecture. You laid on the bed Sevika and you share when you come over.(or when she abducts you) She came in about an hour later, she'd thought she was getting a small moment of peace.

"Oh- you're back. Listen about earlier with the whole Jinx thing. I'm not gonna say it, but I'll take you out- HOLY SHIT!"

She stood there for a second, trying to figure out- what the hell happened? It took her a minute and then it hits her. You fucking idiot.

Sevika thinks about how badly you're hurt, obviously there had to be more than one person. This was more than likely a surprise attack, which was cowardly and not something she was all into.

She imagined for a second the blood she's going to have on her hands later. It's going to be a lot, she intends to bathe in it. How dare some Piltover scum hurt you!?

She doesn't say anything and stares at you for a moment. She turn around and leave the room, only to come back with bandages.

Sevika gives you a cold stare and forces you up. She knows it hurts, as it should. She's pissed, and you dealing with the pain is her way of saying fuck you without opening her mouth. She refused to talk while fixing you up, she knows if the did the only words she'll be saying are: who and why?

She watches you wince and whimper, she sees you eyes glaze over in tears and watches as you shake in pain.

"It hurts, dont it? Well good. Now you know why I didn't want you going out with Jinx, she's a damned trouble maker."

Sevika was finally able to say something without straight up yelling. She watches your reactions, sees the fear, anger, embarrassment, and finally you start to cry.

She watches you cry for a good second, she moves you robotic arm up and pats your head. Then she grabs your hair and tilts your head up roughly.

"I try, I really do, but you seem really intent on pissing me off. So, this behavior needs to be punished. I'm giving you the choice on the punishment, it's easier for me. You have two choices, overstimulation or edging."

You groan as her mechanical hand squeezes your hair. Sevika is enjoying this, and evidently so are you. You choose overstimulation, it's better than being denied. At least you get what you want, even if you get too much of it.

Sevika stands up, putting the bandages down and looking at you with a glare. You know the drill, and in situations like these it's best not to brat off. You begin to undress, keeping your underwear and bra on. Sevika likes to take those two peices of clothing off specifically.

You watch her flex her mechanical arm, giving you a disgustingly smug smile.

"Lay back."

You lay back, putting your arms over your eyes. You feel cool metal run up and down your thighs. A second, warm hand unclasps your bra from me front/back. She didn't need to see her to see the smug look. She knows just how to handle you.

"Hands up, I want you to watch."

You do as Sevika commands and move your arms above your hands. She warns if you try to stop her she will tie you up. Her mechanical hand slowly rubs your thighs, she grips it roughly. Deep red marks starting to form. You look at her, tears in your eyes.

"Nuh uh, I don't wanna see them tears. You have brought this upon yourself, so lay back and- safeword. If...you need to."

Sevika pulls your thighs apart, opening them widely. Her warmer hand moved from groping me to rubbing on my thighs. She lowers her head, pressing it against my thigh. She hums quietly, you can feel the vibrations, shaking slightly you look down at her.

Her eyes are a beautiful, silvery grey, you couldn't stop staring. She notices and gives you thighs a tight squeeze, the smirk never once fading.

"My, my, my, you're shaking. I wonder, are you as exited down there too? Well? Are you slut?"

Sevika doesn't hold back on the insults, maybe the praise, but she loves to degrade you. Sevika runs her mechanical finger up and down your panties, the wetness and slicks becoming more apparent.

She growls, oh god. Sevika, no longer being able to take it, practically tears your panties off. She originally intended to come home and take you out, then she'd probably end up fucking your brains out in some alleyway in Piltover. She's been pent up all day thinking about it. Now she can fully relax, and take good action on you.

Sevika moves her head until her face is just hover over your pussy. You groan and whimper when she doesn't start. You didn't agree to be teased, dammit! That's why you chose this option!

"Oh hush. You'll get what you want, princess."

God that nickname turns you on, plus feeling her hot breath against you only makes things worse. You grind you hips up trying, hoping, to get some sort of friction. When Sevika slaps you thigh, hard enough to leave a mark. You know to stop, for not at least.

Finally Sevika herself is tired of waiting too, she presses her tounge into you. The way you squirm, feeling her hot, long tounge tear you open. It does something to her, in a way you will never understand.

She grabs both of your thighs, pulling you so you're hips are right on her face. You wrap your legs around her head, squeezing harshly as she eats you out. Sevika goes from small licks, to sucking on your clit, to pushing her tounge inside you. She does everything she can to hear you scream, and scream you do.

How can you not? This woman is skilled with her tounge in every way, she knows just how to tease you, and just how to make you cum in minutes. That's exactly what she's aiming for now, she wants to see your freshly fucked face, as soon as possible.

Sevika doesn't pull back when you begin rocking your hips, on the contrary. She tries pulling you closer, although you can't really get any closer. As you're stomach begins to tighten and your breathing begins to quicken. You both know what's coming, you, to be more specific.

As you feel piping hot bliss rush over you, you shake and spasm. Sevika doesn't let up though. No, in fact she continues as your orgasm begins to slowly die down. That's when the fun really starts.

Sevika can feel you fighting, slapping, pushing hitting. She said not to use your hands, but she knows you cant help it. You're a dumb slut, and sluts don't know how to think. Especially not you.

You start grabbing and pulling on Sevikas hair, you knew this was the outcome. Didn't stop you from acting like you were innocent. Doesn't matter anyway, the more you push, and pull, and bite. The more fun Sevika is having. You can practically feel her grinning.

You scream and cry, feeling yourself build up once more. Your hips spasming uncontrollably, your entire body was shaking. You knew it was only a matter of time before you came for the second time. After that she'd keep going until you passed out.

You really are stupid, but that's okay. Sevika always cleans up your messes, and after she finishes up with you. She's heading to Piltover to rip some heads off, she might even bring you a souvenir.

#wlw #lesbian #arcane sevika #sevika x reader #sevika #yandere #yandere sevika #yandere sevika x reader #yandere month challenge

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deviant-doughnut · 20 days

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Harlan & Seth: “Please help me.”

Written for day 31 of @augusnippets

CW: explicit non-con; non-con against a transmasc character; brainwashing; forced to watch (technically); creepy whumper; blood; non consensual drugging

Part One

The Collector shoves Harlan’s legs apart and forces his way in between them. Harlan fights to hide himself and can’t anymore, every inch of him uncovered and bare. The Collector looms over him, his shadow as cold as sudden night. Harlan’s lungs ache at the flashing hunger in his eyes. It renders him breathless with panic. The Collector does not yield. He takes up space that should be Harlan’s, his hands strong, his frame an immovable mass. Harlan struggles and The Collector pins him, hand on his sternum, cool fingers bridging the gap between Harlan’s long, ropey scars.

The Collector’s smirk is sickly, lips wet and gleaming. His ravenous gaze is a wildfire, humiliation scorching Harlan’s skin. A free hand grips the flesh of his inner thigh, the pain blunt and claustrophobic, a bruising shock of vulnerability. The Collector watches him struggle. His eyes leave no inch of Harlan untouched, unviolated. The collector watches as he thrashes beneath him, both predator and trap as Harlan cries out, tries and fails to kick, to punch. Where The Collector does not have him, the shadows bind him tight. The Collector’s eyes flash bright at Harlan’s naked, trembling body. Harlan whimpers and gasps, struggles and writhes. The Collector is nonplussed, pleased even. His grin twists bile at the back of Harlan’s throat.

“Aren’t you impressive,” The Collector murmurs. And then, as casual as an afterthought, “I’m going to tear you apart.”

“No,” Harlan whimpers, eyes wet, face hot with the shame of pleading.

“Yes,” says The Collector. His free hand goes to the folds between Harlan’s thighs. “I’m going to make you scream. Even he won’t try to save you.”

Harlan gives a shuddering gasp. The Collector pushes two fingers inside him.

Harlan whines. His head falls leftwards, eyes finding Seth in the darkness. Through the sheen of Harlan’s tears, the shadows bleed into Seth’s edges. His boyfriend is upright, unbound, cross legged and swaying softly in the spot where The Collector abused him. Seth stares glassily at the display before him. His woozy gaze locks with Harlan’s, and his lips curl into a smile. He’s drunk, untethered from reality, barely there in the room with them. Harlan’s heart shatters for both of them.

“Seth,” Harlan tries, voice ragged and strained. “Please. Please help me, Seth. Please.”

Seth sways, watches, emits a broken laugh.

“He’s happy,” says The Collector, curling his wrist as he fingers Harlan roughly. “When was the last time you saw him happy?”

The intrusion is aching and expert. Pain and pleasure bleed together until Harlan squeezes his eyes shut against all of it, mouth open to let out forced moans.

Soon enough, The Collector crawls over him. Fingers withdrawn, it douses the unwanted pleasure inside him and leaves only disgust in his stomach. For The Collector. For himself. This whole thing is a sickness and Harlan swallows it down. His heart hammers hard as The Collector prepares, takes himself in his hand. Hard flesh slides southward; hot over Harlan’s clit and thick against his aching entrance.

“I hate you,” Harlan bites, voice shaking, tears pulling free as he says it. The Collector pauses. His head tilts back, mouth falling open. From his parted lips spills a carnal moan, and Harlan realises his mistake with a shudder. This is exactly what The Collector had hoped he would say.

The Collector presses his hips quickly forward. Harlan’s entrance gives.

The stretch is too sudden. The Collector works himself down to the hilt, and Harlan yells underneath him. The Collector moans at his tightness, a sound rumbling low in his throat. Harlan instinctively clenches around him, a belated attempt at keeping him out. The Collector gasps at the grip.

“Oh, Harlan,” he murmurs. “You’re so good at this. You’re a pro.” He punctuates the sentiment with a passionate thrust. A sob bursts freely from Harlan’s throat, and The Collector builds to a punishing rhythm.

Rocked underneath him on the hardwood floor, Harlan refuses to look at The Collector. He cries, he trembles, and he wails when the angle is changed too abruptly. But he keeps his eyes closed or he glances at Seth. The smile Seth wears grows smaller each minute, paling with the set of his pallor.

“Seth,” Harlan whispers, throat sore from his yells. “P-please. Come back to me, baby. Please.”

“He loves me,” says The Collector, voice rough with exertion. “Don’t you, Seth?”

“Yes, Collector,” Seth answers. “I love you so much.” The words pierce like a blade but there’s a flatness to his voice. The Collector responds with a breathy laugh, as if he doesn’t notice. The barest embers of hope spark, somewhere among the shadows that gather in his chest, the dark echoes of The Collector’s assault.

At some point he pulls out, a searing withdrawal. He slides his cock downward from Harlan’s pussy, stops when the head of him touches his ass.

“Please don’t,” Harlan tries. It’s useless. The Collector spreads him wider, a dull ache through his hips, and works until he pushes inside.

Harlan wails, jolts with the shock of penetration.

The Collector moves quickly, breaths ragged and sharp. He rocks deeply into him, pain rushing quick to his depths. Harlan keeps his eyes shut. One hand grips Harlan, holds him down by his hip. The other finds his hard clit and uses it, fingertips rubbing in circles on its sides, then swirling his own wetness over its sensitive head. Harlan jerks bodily, gasps roughly on each repetition.

“Oh fuck,” breathes The Collector. Harlan feels stretched obscenely. Seth, to his left, hums a tune he can’t recognise. The ache shoots in blinding bursts through his body — the small of his back, the backs of his thighs. Sweat slides down over his sides, collects at the backs of his knees. Seth’s song is melodic but it stops and starts, a scrap of one song then another.

“Tell him he’s beautiful,” says The Collector.

“Don’t,” Harlan urges.

“You’re beautiful like this,” Seth tells him, faraway voice, his stare growing vacant.

“Good boys,” The Collector gasps. “Who do you belong to?”

“You,” Seth murmurs. “We belong to you, Collector.”

The Collector loses his rhythm at that. He ruts wildly, every thrust rough and unpredictable. Harlan sobs and gasps and yells. He clenches his muscles with every swipe over his clit. His orgasm builds like a whispered threat, gaining traction and volume by the moment. Harlan fights it until he knows that he’s lost, until the familiar feeling grows steep to its apex, and he knows he’s about to orgasm.

The Collector’s hand falls away from his clit. It’s the first time Harlan can bear to open his eyes. The edge of his orgasm falls back from his reach, as if swallowed slowly by shadows. The Collector grips Harlan by both of his hips, bruising grip and heaving breaths.

He meets his wet eyes as it happens.

The Collector’s orgasm shudders through him. A burst of hot wetness spills deep inside Harlan, The Collector’s moaning a cacophony of euphoria from which Harlan suddenly cannot look away. The way he squeezes his eyes shut, mouth open to cry out in ecstasy. The way the adrenaline ebbs out of his muscles, and The Collector peers down at him, eyes bright, lips curled in twisted bliss.

He’s sated, victorious. He’s violated both of them today. Seth, to his left, tilts his head and observes him, impassive.

The Collector pulls out of him swiftly. Harlan doesn’t think he can move from the floor, his limbs shaking, muscles jolting in recoil at each movement above him. The Collector tucks himself away — wet with slick and bright slivers of blood. He buckles his belt, metal against callous metal. The floorboards of the storeroom creak as his weight recedes, as he strolls towards the doorway almost lazily.

“Harlan,” says The Collector. Harlan flinches at the sound of his name, the singsong cadence of it of his attacker’s tongue. He gasps, he trembles. His body aches and he doesn’t reply. He peers up towards the doorway from the floor. The Collector’s dark eyes glint in the shadows, a monster peering back at his broken prey, as though Harlan is a pile of bones stripped and bloodied.

“Who do you belong to?” The Collector asks. Harlan’s stomach roils slowly, a shadowy sea, troubled and churning beneath the still. He swallows hard. The Collector’s release slips onto the floor, spilling slow from Harlan’s aching entrance. He forces himself not to whimper.

“You,” he manages, his voice a pained scrape from his throat. The Collector’s lips quirk upwards, approval and amusement at once. He nods.

“Good boys,” says The Collector. “My pretty toys.”

With a flick of his wrist something changes around them, the very air altered by the movement. The weight in the shadows falls like a veil. The monsters hidden in the darkness abate. The magic suspended among them extinguishes. The shadows are just shadows, The Collector is just a man, and Harlan and his boyfriend have been raped. Nausea curling through him, Harlan eases his knee up to cover himself.

Ten feet away, Seth jolts bodily in Harlan’s periphery. He gives a shuddering gasp.

“I’ll be seeing you,” says The Collector.

And then, from the shadows, he is gone.

#whump #whump writing #augusnippets #cw noncon #Augusnippets day 31 #nsfwhump #Harlan & Seth #The Collector Series

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triplesilverstar · 11 months

Text

Day 31

Rating: Explicit 18+ Minors DNI

Pairing: Alien Eriks X F!Reader

CW: Halloween movies, Chasing, Knife play, home invasion, creepy strangers, grinding, panic attacks, Alien Biology, sex mishaps, sex trauma, Held captive, experimented on, prisoner, escape, almost freezing, plant dick, alien dick, period discussions, body dysmorphia, thoughts of gore, egg implantation, Wrong biology, As in I’m ignoring biology again, groping, dirty talk, oral sex, cunnilingus, hand job, penetrative sex, impregnation, cervical penetration, shape shifting, egg laying

Word count: 10464 (Not a typo this time)

A/N: Day 31, Well the grand finale. I hope you’ve all enjoyed these fics with different Trigun characters as monsters. Now for a final fic that happens to with Eriks, someone who doesn’t get enough love. I know he’s Vash but he deserves as much love as when he’s Vash.

Hearing another ring of your doorbell you smile, grabbing the bowl of candy next to the entrance of your home and smiling as the chorus of “Trick or treat” from the kids at the door. It had been like that for the last hour now as the rate of children out for Halloween had picked up quickly after supper, and you had a feeling in the next half hour it was going to slow down.

You’d been living in the small home for a few years now and you knew once a certain time came you wouldn’t see anyone else, your home being tucked so far back that once dusk came no one bothered coming up your driveway. Possibly because they didn’t realize it was a driveway either.

It also worked out great for your boyfriend, Eriks, who liked to stay off the radar of most people, and for a reason you understood very well. Though tonight he was off enjoying seeing Halloween for the first time, something he seemed fascinated by when the two of you were out shopping and he saw all the costumes and candy asking for an explanation.

Which led to the two of you watching all kinds of horror movies and him being fascinated by them. Even more so how much more of a cuddler you were during some of the movies like Friday the 13th, Nightmare on Elm Street, and Halloween, tucking right into his side with your forehead against the side of his face. Squealing at some scenes and hiding in his chest at the over-the-top gore, he laughed nuzzling his chin into your hair, the scruff along his face making you laugh in turn as it scratched against your skin.

So when you’d finished supper he’d kissed the side of your face and told you he’d be home later because he wanted to see this whole Halloween thing in person.

Right on time as dusk began to fall your doorbell slowed considerably, a final ring well after the normal time in years past that the kids stopped coming. Maybe this year you had a few more braver souls? Grabbing the candy bowl and opening the door, only there was no chorus of “Trick or Treat” this time.

Just a tall man in an outfit like Michael Myers, staring there and looking down at you. “Um, you look a little big but if you say trick or treat I have no issues giving you some candy. It’s all in the spirit of the season.” A bead of sweat forming at the back of your neck as they remain silent, blinking and when you look down trying to think of a way to get them to speak and you notice something. A very familiar pair of boots with a scuff across the right toe. A pair of boots that belong to Eriks, a small wave of relief taking over and you decide to play along.

“Sir, you’re making me feel uncomfortable so I’m going to close the door now.” Smiling up at him and closing it, locking it, and watching him continue to stand there for a few moments through the glass panel next to the door.

He turns around eventually, taking the steps down and in the low light it almost looks like he leaves but you’re certain you see him duck into the hedges. Placing your bowl of candy on the table by the entrance door before heading upstairs through the split entry and heading for the back door, making a show of flicking the light on over the back and checking the lock. You don’t actually lock it otherwise, it ends the game and you don’t want Eriks locked outside.

That done you head back to the living room, returning to your movie with the volume turned up just enough so you won’t hear the door open. Eyes flicking towards the way into the kitchen though, planning your big scene and biting your lip. Should you run down the stairs and into the single room that makes up the unfinished basement or down the hallway past the bathroom and into your bedroom? Upstairs gives the illusion of a few doors to check which does appeal to your sense of adventure.

Sure enough about ten minutes later you see a shadow in your kitchen entryway looking around the corner like he’s waiting for the right time to come in. Knowing he’s there you pretend to focus on the TV once more.

When he finally steps over and proceeds to just stand there for a few heartbeats you turn your head and let out an ear-piercing shriek that makes him flinch and jump backwards. You don’t keep watching him, choosing to bolt down the hallway and into your bedroom diving into the closet and trying to stay still.

Even if you know it’s a game your heart is still racing inside your chest, watching through a small gap in the door. As he walks through the bedroom door with measured steps you grin, those long lean legs of his walking around the room looking through piles of clothes and around furniture. Watching him leave the room you place a hand over your mouth, almost laughing, before squealing again as a hand wraps around your ankle and drags you out.

You flail around as your shirt drags up along your back and belly kicking and screaming even if you’re terrible at it wanting to make sure you don’t accidentally kick him. Once he’s dragged you far enough out he looks down over you, drawing his arm back and holding a knife above you. Real fear grips you as it descends and you let out a real blood-curdling scream and the tip of the blade presses against the area just above your belly button.

Only for it to sink into the handle instead of going into your skin, a toy knife that scared the daylights out of you.

The figure you fully expect to be your boyfriend reaching up and pulling the mask off, their hair tied back in a short ponytail. Tossing the toy knife aside and dropping his chest to press against yours with his legs straddling you and slotting his mouth over yours for a quick passionate kiss. “I didn’t think you could scream like that” He laughs as he pulls away to sit back on his legs, hands rubbing along your sides. “Thanks for playing along, Angel.”

Feeling the adrenaline leave you all you can do is laugh, reaching out to rest your hands along his forearms. “Well, you did scare me for real twice, that knife and at first before I realized it was you. I’m glad you wore those boots otherwise I probably wouldn’t have caught on.” Watching him smile down at you with that soft little smile of his. “So what made you decide to go with Halloween for your costume?”

A shrug and one of his hands leave your sides to reach inside his costume to dig out his glasses and place them on his face before answering you. “You had a lot of the stuff around, I mean the suit is the one you had hanging downstairs for working on the truck.”

Pushing yourself up on your elbows to get a closer look you start to laugh, seeing some grease stains from when your old clunker had spat its oil at you when you did your last oil change.

As you stared at the fabric you missed the way your movement had your body rubbing against his, noticing the blush a little late. Trailing your eyes downwards you see where you're pressing up against his crotch. Grinning you push yourself further up and wrap your hands around his neck pulling him back down so you can kiss him again.

Brushing your lips along his and hearing a low moan in his throat, lowering his chest down over yours one more and sliding his arms along the floor so he’s framing your head making you hum. Switching to quick pecks as you giggle and he laughs before swiping his tongue along your lower lip, deepening the kiss as you part your lips tasting candy as you meet his wet muscle with your own.

As the kiss becomes more passionate you find your hips starting to undulate against his, feeling a firmness growing between the two of you as his sex hardens providing a delicious friction against your clit. You started to buck up against him, only for Eriks to break the kiss with a hiss when rubbing a little too enthusiastically against him. A look of panic was clear on his rugged face. “Shit, sorry Baby!”

“No! It’s, it’s fine!” He waved his hand and got off your body, sitting back and looking at the floor with his eyes downcast. You’re scrambling to follow after him, placing a hand against his cheek and rubbing your thumb along his jaw.

“Baby, it’s ok. I keep telling you I’m ok, it wasn’t your fault.” Tilting his head upwards so you can look into his eyes are filled with sorrow. “We just need to get better at talking when we’re intimate.”

The briefest of flinches and you press a soft kiss to the corner of his mouth trying to reassure him, but it doesn’t work. “You’re not meant to handle my biology, last time I proved that.” His words make your own mood drop, a reminder of how you and Eriks first met. An alien that had escaped from a lab and had been on the run, and you had been the first person to hold out your hand when you found him hiding in the small shed behind your house during a storm and offered him some kindness. That had been earlier this year, and it broke your heart to have seen the tall man flinch when you held your gloved hand out to him and offered to let him stay with you for the night.

Surprise.

He stayed for a lot longer than one night from the moment you saw him partially naked as he changed into the dry clothes you had and saw that he was skin and bones. Well and his skin was a patchwork of scars, and after a week of staying with you he told you about himself, told you he was okay with you contacting the authorities to hand him over.

You’d smacked him.

The natural progression of things between you as he slowly developed feelings for you and you for him. The two of you enjoyed the budding relationship and talking about it, getting to the point of being intimate and when you saw his cock you had been surprised, making him nervous.

His dick had been different from anything you ever saw before but he was an alien, the coiled petal-like parts between his legs that moved of their own accord at times spreading outwards from a center portion. The petals were soft and sensitive and you enjoyed making him feel even better with your hands and mouth, but disaster struck the first time he tried to make love to you and left you bleeding in your shared bed. That center portion contained a needle-like appendix that had pierced your insides and Eriks had been afraid to move past more than touching you with his hands and mouth and refusing to let you go farther either.

“Eriks, please. I love you” Both of your hands are on his face now, sliding your nose along his just under the bridge of his glasses. “If we’re never intimate like that again I don’t care, I didn’t fall in love with you for that. You’re kind.”

“I know angel” his hands moved to wrap around your wrists before pulling them away and leaning back, pressing his lips against your knuckles. “Yet, I want to make love to you, I want to make you feel good. I just can’t hurt you.”

“You could never hurt me, I still think last time I wasn’t aroused enough and that we moved too fast.” He told you how his species locked their partners in place for part of his sexual organs to pass their genetic material to their partners. But when he had tried to lock your body in place all you felt was pain as it pierced the space near your cervix. You’re certain it was supposed to pierce the tiny opening in the deepest part of you.

“It doesn't matter.” His voice is a whisper as both of you sit there looking at one another.

“Yes, it does, because clearly it still bothers you.” Keeping your voice soft as you smile reassuringly at him.

“It bothers me because I want to make love to you, but I’m afraid.” Moving closer and curling your body so you're pressed more against him, your sweet gentle man that bad luck seems to follow everywhere he goes.

“Baby, you don’t have anything to be afraid of I promise. If you want to try again we can and if not we can get in bed and cuddle and I can tell you how wonderful you are.” Pulling your hands from his so you can embrace him, his own arms loop around you and his chin settles atop your head. “What if we move to the bed and see where things go?” A timid request and you reach up to press a hand to his chin.

“Yea, let's do that.” A few more moments before the two of you separate, you make a flicking motion at him when he pulls the coveralls off and goes to toss them in the laundry bin. Laughing as he heads downstairs before returning in his boxers and a muscle shirt, some of his scars on display which was something he was slowly becoming more accepting of if only because of how much affection you shower him in.

Sliding under the covers in just a loose tee and a pair of shorts and patting the bed next to you “Come on big guy.” Once he joins you, you tangle your legs with his as his arms wrap around your shoulders so your head is above his heart. Fingers making small circles through the fabric of his shirt against his chest. “Did you at least have fun tonight?”

“I did.” He reached up and removed his hair tie so the blond and black hair fell around his face, parts of it long enough to touch his chin. Something you love is running your fingers through those long strands and feeling the texture that is just slightly different than your own.

“I’m glad.” Fingers walking along his chest up to his neck and taking a few of the strands between your fingers. Twirling the blond pieces so they curl around your digits before letting them go. “What’d you do while you were out and about?”

“I mostly walked around and watched, many of the children were cute. It was kind of interesting.” Now that his hair is down his other hand moves to rest on your hip, thumb playing the band of your shorts. “How long does it take for children to mature into their adult bodies for your species?”

You’re used to these questions, Eriks admitted to you some time ago that while the two of you look to be of similar age he’s a full century older than you. “I mean usually by sixteen most of their growing is done but I think usually by the time we’re in our early twenties we’re sort of done.”

“Years?” He sounds incredulous and with your head over his heart, you heard the thumping of his heart increase.

“Uh yea. Wait.” Furrowing your brow at him and feeling a corner of your lip twitch. “How long did it take you to get your adult body?”

“Just under five of your human years, I had a body like most of the children I saw tonight when I was one.” Your eyes must be bugging out of your skull, as you stop playing with his hair and use his chest to push yourself more upright, forcing the air from his lungs at your sudden movement.

“Are you kidding me?!”

“No.” It’s practically a whine, and you’re sad to say it makes something in your core flutter.

“Baby, that. That makes me sad and so much more curious.” A flicker of fear across his face and you grin, throwing your legs over his body so you’re straddling his abdomen taking both of his hands in yours. “I know you live a lot longer than humans, so do you just develop faster?”

At your curiosity, the fear fades and he settles more into the pillow behind his head, letting you do as you please with his hands. “I only have my own experience to go off Angel, but yes my species grows to adulthood quickly and our intelligence grows at an accelerated rate as well. There are drawbacks however, experience, when we’re younger, is hard to come by as assumptions might be made about what we know based on appearance.”

You hum for him to keep talking, with one of his larger hands in both of yours and tracing the scars that line the back of it. “Or when you crash land on another planet they think you’re a lot younger than you are.” Eyes flicking to his you kiss the staples along his thumb, a reminder of what was done to him. A subject the two of you try to avoid.

“So. Does that mean that by five you can…”Trailing off as you watch his face and feel the tips of your ears burn almost mumbling the last word “reproduce?” You’re honestly curious since neither of you has talked much about his reproductive cycle. You do remember talking about yours the first time he panicked when you woke up with your legs tacky and the smell of copper wafting from between them. That had been a fun explanation, and Eriks had sort of gotten used to laying behind you with his warm palms pressed to your belly when your cramps got to be too much for you.

“No. It’s a… little more complicated than that.” At least you aren’t the only one blushing now, a shade of vermillion starting to creep up his neck. “My species umm grows eggs that we plant inside our partners.” You're blinking slowly at him. Did he just say eggs? “They’re not like yours, they’re a portion of our own DNA rearranged so if our partners can’t add to the eggs they just develop inside them.” He’s looking nervous now, a little sweat on the side of his neck and licking his lips.

“How do your partners add to the eggs?” Part of you is having a vision of the scene out of Alien when it bursts from the guy's chest while they’re eating dinner.

Almost as if reading your thoughts the vermillion painting his neck is rising high and coloring his cheeks now “It’s not anything bad!” Squeaking from him flustered. “The eggs are tiny to start, microscopic, and… Well I’d plant them in my partner's sex.” Looking into your eyes he has the smallest smile “your womb. From there if our species are compatible your body would feed the eggs as they grow and transfer some of your own DNA that would partially override mine.”

A small sense of dread as you look at his hand again instead of his eyes. “What if we aren’t compatible?” It makes your chest lurch painfully, the idea of not being compatible making you realize the idea of having a family with your handsome alien might be something you want. Imagining a smaller version of him running around your home brings a warm sensation to your heart.

“Two options. One the eggs just grow and it’s all my species in the DNA, or” he trails off and you don’t need him to finish to understand, it means they don’t take.

“How many eggs can you make?”

This might be pushing the envelope of his comfort level as his hand not held between yours starts to move along your side. “It takes a long time to make them. I had five before I landed here, now I have three.”

Head snapping up you drop his hand to cup the sides of his face and kiss his forehead, tears springing to your eyes. “Oh Baby, I’m so sorry.”

Wrapping his arms around you and pulling you closer to his body taking comfort in your smaller frame pressed against him. “You didn’t take them Angel, it’s not your fault.” His words make you think of one of the cross-like scars on his abdomen and you wonder if it is from that.

“Still. It means if you want kids, it’s cut down your chances. You only have three left.” His hands are trailing along your back as you move your legs so you aren’t as uncomfortable hunched up against him.

“Three chances and there’s only one being in this universe I’d want to take them with.” Removing your face from where you’d had it buried in his hair you look at him, his eyes shining with love and affection. “I love you Angel, I’ve never felt this way about anyone before in my long life. If I can’t have them with you I don’t want children with anyone else.”

“Oh Eriks” Closing the distance you press your lips against his tenderly, it’s a kiss filled with sweetness and longing. Unhurried as you both move your lips gently against one another, conveying more with action than words. It hasn’t been long since he came into your life but you love this alien man.

As you break apart he whispers your own name against your lips in reverence, like he’s making you a promise as his scarred hands move to cup your face. Hands large enough to encompass your entire head and you’ve never felt safer in those gentle yet firm digits. “You make me want to try again because all this talk tonight is giving me the courage to try and mate with you again.”

You grin at him, turning your head in his loose grip to peck the inside of one of his palms and gently grind your hips down against his. “Then let's take our time tonight and try again because I think I like the idea of a little version of you underfoot.”

Returning your smile with a larger one and kissing you deeply you squeak as in a rare show of his inhuman strength he flips you over his weight bearing down on you as you sink into the mattress a little. His hands trailing to the hem of your tee so when he pulls away he can tug it off your body, humming as your breasts bounce on your chest since you hadn’t bothered with a bra. A noise of appreciation from him as his hands cover both of your tits easily, rough palms lightly caressing them in such a way that you feel your core throb.

“I do like it when you let me play with these.” A seductive smirk sent your way with one corner of his lip lifted showing the sharp teeth underneath. Biting your lip you reach for the hem of his muscle shirt trying to pull it off him only for him to chuckle low his throat. “Not yet Angel. I want to focus on you tonight.”

“Please Eriks” You pout up at him, still tugging on the fabric “I like touching your skin, you know that.”

Leaning down, his eyes blazing you feel another throb in your core at the intensity as his mouth catches yours, his hands placing more pressure on the soft skin of your chest. Tracing your lips with his tongue, you moan parting to let him plunge that wet muscle into your mouth and he moves it as if he’s fucking your mouth. His hips start to roll against yours in long languid strokes making your pussy clench as you feel yourself growing wetter.

Parting and trailing his lips along your face to the shell of your ear, he breathes harshly against it as his own arousal grows. “You can touch what you want Angel, but I’m not taking it off until you’re a panting, whining mess under me.” Punctuating the words with a pinch to your nipples and a quick jerk of his hips and you gasp, feeling dizzy from his words and actions.

With that you slide your hands to his back, fingers gliding under his shirt and along the skin there tracing scars and metal with the tips of your fingers while his hands have gone back to massaging your tits. Scraping his teeth down along your neck, tongue flicking along the sensitive skin, stopping at random intervals to suck at you. You know you’re going to be wearing a turtleneck to work in the morning to hide the series of marks and bruises he’s painting into you. The slow shifting of his crotch has pushed your shorts up as high as they can go, the fabric around your pussy drenched and the cotton hitting your clit at the apex of his rolls is pushing, making you throb painfully. Your core wants more stimulation but the way Eriks has you under him you have no way to shift to chase that friction.

A harsh suck at your pulse point has you mewling while his body stills, a low growl reverberating around the room, and another flood of wetness flows from your soaked core.

Between your bodies, you can feel his sex starting to flutter as the area pressed against your own starts to harden. You can picture the petals plumping and growing sticky and you wish there wasn’t a barrier between you. His lower body is pressed so tightly against you, that you can’t get your hand past his waistband to try and touch the soft skin of his member.

Whining again as he lets go with a pop, lowering his head to blow over the damp skin and then tracing the edge of the bruising mark he’s left with the tip of his tongue. “You’re so perfect Angel. Keep making those pretty noises for me.” His mouth is back against your skin and his body is sliding down yours, a slick trail of salvia showing where he’s been intermittently with small hickeys like flowers on a vine.

“Eriks please, I need more” Panting as he replaces his hand on one of your breasts with his mouth. The tip of his tongue traces the outer edge of your nipple and now your damp core is pressed against his lower abdomen, somewhere you’re having an even harder time rocking against in pursuit of that friction you’re desperate for. Both of your hands slide along his back and your fingers dig into the meat of his shoulders as he keeps teasing you.

“I promise Angel, you’ll get more tonight.” A brief peck placed against your nipple, an action that makes your head spin, such a contrast in his actions. So gentle compared to when he was sucking your neck like a wild animal. “I can smell your pussy from here, and I plan on having a taste.”

Hell if you weren’t feeling horny before you sure are now with that admission from him, your tummy fluttering. Your fingers dig harder into his upper back as he sinks his teeth into the underside of your breast, not hard enough to break the skin but you know there is going to be a perfect indentation of his teeth there when he pulls away. Switching from ghosting his lips and tongue over your tit before biting it somewhere else, tonight he seems like part of his mission is to mark up as much of your skin as he can. Your pussy twitches and throbs as you jerk against him, through the haze of pleasure you become cognizant that he wants to show you belong to him.

Raising his head and giving a curt nod, clearly satisfied with the state he’s left the first boob in replacing his hand and treating the other to the same level of affection. “Eriks!” Another moan as he works your body the way he wants and you’re starting to feel frustrated as your hands keep sliding along his dampening skin that’s partially covered by his muscle shirt. If only the damn thing was gone.

Lifting his head after what feels like an eternity of you trying to buck against him and clawing at the skin of his back, surveying his work with an unadulterated grin. “You look so desperate Angel. Do I affect you this much?” The coy tone makes you beg for him to keep touching you, screaming in agreement at how much you’re squirming because of him. “Touching you like this?” Returning his mouth to the center of your chest and starting to move downwards, letting his thin lips skim over your skin darting his tongue out to taste you as he goes.

Reaching your belly button you expect him to skip over it instead, your head rolls back into the pillow as his tongue presses into the small opening feeling your muscles around the area jolt. You’ve never had anyone do that before and the fact you find it so pleasurable surprises you.

Eriks doesn’t stay there long, and you’re whining for an entirely different reason as the back of his head slips from your fingers. Sitting back on his haunches and looking at you, taking in the sight of your heaving chest, the way the low light makes your skin seem to shine from the dampness as you try to cool down. The masterpiece of his affection paints a scene that leaves him panting, and he knows he wants you like this for the rest of his life.

All those long years kept in a cell treated like nothing but an animal as they tore him apart, trying to see what made him function. His escape was nothing short of miraculous, two years on the run always moving.

Until you.

The first being on this planet to offer him any kindness, and now as he looked down at you blissed out and looking at him like he was the only other being in the world made his heart stutter in his chest. He came to the understanding some time ago he loved you, you were a kind soul, and while the fear was always at the edge of the mind that he’d be found and you hurt or worse he was coming to terms with that risk.

He wanted to give you everything he had.

Swallowing, running his tongue over his suddenly dry lips. “Angel, you look so amazing like that.” Placing his hand on your hips getting ready to slide your shorts off before thinking better of it, your early words about taking your time echoing in his ears. He’d take his time alright, ignoring the throbbing of his own sex while shuffling lower grinning at the wanton pant you made sitting up and reaching for him. “Lay back down, I told you I was going to make you a whining panting mess didn’t I?” Raising one of his eyebrows at you as you look so forlorn at him, whining at you flop back down with a hand over your eyes.

“You’re so mean to me Eriks.” Frowning as the world is temporarily dark “you also said I could touch what I wanted.” Pouting to see if your whining will get him to change his mind, but you aren’t going to hold out for that.

“In a way, you’ll be touching me soon.” Returning his hands to your skin as he gripped your bare thighs kneading them and pressing the tip of his nose against your clothed core and taking a deep breath. “Heavenly” A loud exhale as those wide fingers start to work the muscles of your inner legs and he rubs his face against the soaked fabric.

Your face feels like it’s on fire after hearing him breathe like that against your sex, a twinge of embarrassment under just how hot he’s making you feel. He’s just being so noisy as he presses his face against your crotch, his nose bumping against your clit and starting to suck on the fabric of your shorts over your slit. His fingers moved closer under your shorts and touched the soft skin above your mound with a groan. “You’re being naughty Angel. You didn’t wear any underwear to bed either, no wonder your shorts are soaked.”

Using his thumbs to pull the fabric taut over your core, Eriks covers your clit with his mouth and sucks as hard as he can against your body and the thin layer between the two of you. Thrashing as your hips jerk trying to chase more of the sensation of his rough fingers against your opening which he’s ignoring. “Please Eriks” begging and at this point, you don’t know what you want anymore, just that you need more from him.

You can’t see the way his sea green eyes flash from between your thighs, rolling his hips against the bed gently trying to keep his urge to shove his throbbing sex into any one of your holes. He can feel the outer petals fluttering in his underwear, the need almost overtaking his desire to keep teasing you. Still sucking at you through the fabric and tracing your pussy lips with his fingers, almost reverently taking note of what sensation has you moaning and twisting more under his hands that knew nothing about pleasure just a year ago.

As your hips start to jerk more in his hold he finally stops sucking, to start tonguing at your slit through the fabric. “Fuck Angel. You taste like salvation.” His tongue working you and his sharp hearing picking up all the low whines you're making, and he can feel your cunt starting to tighten as you grow closer to that edge. “Come on, come for me and I’ll get these shorts out of the way.”

Panting and writhing as he shoves his tongue back in against you and his nose hits your clit just right through those stupid shorts and you scream. Walls spasm around nothing as you add more fluid to the already drenched and dripping shorts keeping your sex from him.

Chest heaving as you try to catch your breath, walls still fluttering as Eriks shuffles again an animalistic growl low in his throat as he presses his lips to your lower belly while his fingers claw at your shorts, pulling this down and off your body. Tossed over his shoulders somewhere in the room. Far more interested in spreading your legs more apart and staring at your drenched pussy, watching as your release drips from your slit just below your swollen clit.

“So fucking pretty.” Another low growl that makes your core shiver with how dark he sounds, staring at your sex and licking his lips. “I want a taste, Angel. A real taste.” His gaze slowly rises along your body until his eyes are fixed on yours, waiting for your permission, and fuck you’ve never wanted to kiss him so badly before.

Pushing yourself up on your elbows and grabbing his shoulders to tug him closer so you can, a messy slide of lips and tongues gliding over one another, ignoring what you’re certain is the taste of yourself on him. Panting as you whisper and your own breath washes back against your face with how close you are. “Take as much as you want Baby. I love you.” Surging forward for a searing kiss at your answer, his chest rumbling as it grows fiercer before he pulls away, pushing you back down onto your back and lowering his own body back down.

“I love you too Angel. Far more than you’ll ever comprehend.” Another kiss quick to the skin over your belly before he’s nestling down between your legs and spreading you open again. Blowing over your cool slick skin before his hot mouth covers your pussy and clit, humming and the vibrations leave you gasping. Your hands shoot down to tangle in his long locks, something to try and keep yourself centered as he almost made you cum a second time in a short window.

Whining with tears in your eyes as he switched to long languid licks against your pussy, lapping at the skin around your slit and nub but avoiding the two places you want him most. “Please!” The tears are just streaming down your face, you feel like you’re on fire and all you want is more. More of him doing anything to you at this point, the briefest touch of his wet muscle as it ghosts around your sex has your hips writhing chasing that contact. A hard swipe of his tongue pressed flat against your folds, almost dragging and the muscles of your stomach and core are tensing hard enough that you feel the sweat dripping down the sides of your face. “Eriks!” Screaming his name while he lets out a dark chuckle against you.

“What is it, Angel?” Barely moving his lips away from your slick core and if you had been able to see his face you would have seen the way his saliva and your juices were coating his lips and chin. The liquid forming drops at the point of his chin before dripping to the mattress below. Another long lick to your pussy while he waits for your answer.

“I” panting and squirming, trying to buck your hips up so you could grind your sex against his face. His fingers just dig more into the meat under your thighs, his hands rigid and keeping you spread on display for him. “Fuck me!” Tugging on the strands of hair in your hands trying to pull him closer, desperate to have part of him inside your soaked pussy. “Please!” Any part of him, all the teasing has gone to your head and you’re desperate for any kind of release from the mounting pressure inside your body.

“So demanding” Pressing his lips to the inside of your thigh just makes you whine even louder at the denial. That is so far from where you want his lips. “Well, you're a whining mess now let's see if we can get that panting part going like I promised.”

With no more preamble, he shoves his tongue as far as he can inside your sloppy cunt, your back arching immediately at the onslaught to your sensitive inner walls. Doing exactly as you asked him and fucking you with his mouth, plunging the wet muscle inside you and curling it making you squirm even more in his grasp. The pressure inside of you builds and your screams die down as you pant trying to suck air into your lungs to deal with the pleasure pulsing in time with the movement of his tongue. Letting one of your thighs go and looping his arm around the outside to press the rough calluses of his thumb on the hood of your clit and pulling it upwards. Watching with hooded eyes as the bundle of nerves seems to throb right in front of him, grinning and letting out a long moan while he’s as far inside of you as he can go with his mouth. Bucking his head, and the very tip of his pointed nose hits your clit.

And you make a noise you have no description for as you come, a noise you didn’t even know you could make. Your walls go blisteringly tight around his tongue as your whole body writhes in his clutches, and he has a front-row seat to your sex throbbing and pulsing. All because of him.

Feeling your body go limp, he drags his tongue from your inside lapping at your release and smug about just how hard he made you cum for him. Hearing you groan as he keeps licking at your core, not wanting to waste a drop of your sweetness.

Overstimulated you moan, letting go of his hair to push at his head. “Too” panting at a hard lick that makes you shiver your voice breaks for a moment, another gasp “Stop, Baby.” Mumbled and low as you feel like you’re floating in a river of honey, thoughts jumbled and incoherent, your body delayed in its responses to the things you’re trying to get it to do.

Hearing you ask him to stop, he does. Gently lowering your legs back to the bed and watching you as you recover. You’re covered in a sheen of sweat, your chest heaving hard enough to make your belly pulse with the movement, hands hanging over your sex after his head had slipped from your fingers, arms, and legs limp. Your eyes closed and your hair is a mused mess.

All because of him.

A swell of pride within his chest at leaving you looking so debaucherous and he’s caused both of your orgasms tonight with just his tongue. Finally, he reached for the hem of his muscle shirt and pulled the sodden fabric from his torso, tossing it elsewhere in the room. Probably the same place as your shorts.

Hearing the sound of shucking fabric you part your lids, just in time to enjoy the show of his upper body revealed. What had been a thin wiry chest, a patchwork of scars across his skin that seemed almost stretched over his frame had filled out a little more. Most of the scars would never fade, taking up most of his body and the metal that held some of his flesh in place. A sign of what horrors he had endured, horrors you hoped to spare him from ever enduring again even if you were just no one.

It felt like forever as you raised your hand and reached for him, placing your palm over the metal grating that had been grafted to his skin over his heart. Feeling him flinch as you made contact, his eyes softening as he saw your own droopy orbs.

“I really do love you Eriks. I hope you know that.” Your voice is so soft it’s almost lost in the room to your body moving as it still comes down from its high.

Both of his hands reach for yours over his heart, his rough fingers tracing the inside and outside of your wrist. A whisper of your name like a prayer on his lips before raising your hand and kissing each of your fingers before placing your hand down at your side, repeating the action with your other hand. “I do, I never thought I could find love. Yet. Here you are.”

With your other arm at your side, Eriks lowers his body so your chests are pressed together. Running the tip of his nose along yours before placing a sensual kiss on your lips, a kiss that feels more like a promise than anything else. “Do you want to keep going?”

You feel boneless under his warm skin, he’s always warm and it’s something you enjoy on chill days and cold nights. Feeling him heat you up. “Only if you do, Baby.” Lifting a hand to cup the side of his face, watching those beautiful orbs of his as they search your face. “I don’t want you to feel any pressure.”

Watching his throat bob as he tried to swallow past the cotton he’s found in his mouth suddenly, nerves returning to him. “Did you mean what you said earlier? About a little me?” Holding back his unshed tears as he looks at you, that fear that's always in the back of his mind rearing its head.

“I did. I want a baby with you Eriks.” Watching the light of affection and love chase away the darkness in his eyes you grin up at him. “But what do you want?”

“I. I wanted to be sure. To know that it wasn’t just the heat of the moment because I want you to be the mother to my children. If we keep going tonight I really do want to try and plant at least one of my eggs in you.” Nuzzling into your palm and moving his own arms closer so he can feel the heat from your body against his forearms.

“Then do it Eriks.” Tilting your head to press a quick kiss to his chin. “Plant whatever you want to take a risk with me, I know they’re precious to you.”

Another moment of fear as a truth he’s kept from you lurks at the back of his mind. “You might be in for a surprise. I… I don’t always look like this.”

“Eriks” Your voice takes on an edge, an edge that surprises him. “I love you. If you have another form then I’ll still love you in that, it’s not just your body I fell for.” Going for a real kiss this time, he lets the tears fall from his eyes. Pressing his throbbing sex against yours, only the thin layer of his underwear keeping the two of you separated.

“No going back.” A whisper, a last chance for an out.

“I want this.” Staring into his eyes until he relents, nodding and pulling his body away from you to hook his fingers in the waistband of his underwear and sliding the final article of clothing separating the two of down his ass. With no measure of grace, he got them off his body and tossed them away, almost falling off the bed in the process. Doing your best to keep you giggles contained at the awkward display while he smiles shyly back at you for more than one reason.

Your eyes trail along his legs taking in more of his scar until they land on the space between his legs. His phallic like sex is thick and the fluttering petals are dripping liquid, and while you don’t know too much about his biology you do know the more flushed those petals are the more aroused he is. And those petals are flashing red in time with his heartbeat.

Pushing yourself up so you’re sitting you wrap your hand gently around his base, the fluid oozing down over your fingers in thick rivets. Stroking upwards before removing your hand and starting at the base again. “Feel good Baby?”

“Hmm, so good.” Encasing one of his hands around yours and increasing the pressure, more fluid poured down over your joint fingers and you licked your lips watching that clear liquid start to soak the sheets under you.

“Can I have a taste?” Rubbing your thighs together, you might have just been thoroughly blissed out of your mind but you're already throbbing at the idea of sucking on that fluttering tip of his.

“A quick one, I don’t want us getting distracted.” Using his free hand to cup your jaw you nod in agreement, lowering your body to press your lips to his tip. You know when all his petals spread there’s still a long tendril-like appendix in the center, and the top has an opening. It’s that part you try to press your lips to, knowing his petals are far more sensitive to the same level of pressure.

Right away, your tongue is overcome with the taste of sweetness, the fluid coming from his body more like nectar with how liquidly it is. But far sweeter. Humming the taste sends a pulse right to your core, and while part of you is tender you’re more than ready to go again. Coming off the tip with a pop you lick the length of his sex careful of the petals and moaning at the amount of liquid streaming from him as it runs down the sides of your tongue making more of a mess.

“Angel.” Barely able to choke the one word out you look at him, taking in his flushed face and the shape of his pupils. A light almost shone from his eyes like stars in those cerulean depths and you stop, making an assumption he’s near his limit. Slowly nodding at you and using his hand to pull yours away from his quivering sex. “Ready?”

Rising to your knees and trailing your fingers through his hair, the silky stands flowing through your fingers as you close the distance for another kiss. Peppering his warm cheekbones and chin in a trail of quick pecks. “Where do you want me?”

“On your back.” Positioning yourself against the mattress once more, a quick shuffle of your shoulders and Eriks has to grin at the way you look. That thin layer of desire still coating your body and he feels himself throb, wrapping his hands around your legs and spreading your limbs as tenderly as possible so he can slide forward between them.

As you watch him grip his sex, pressing the top porting to your entrance and sliding it over your folds you let out a soft breath. One hand reaching for his and interlacing your fingers together. Those star flecked eyes looking at you while he keeps moving his alien cock against your pussy. “You will tell me the moment anything starts to hurt?”

With his voice so tender as he questions you, your heart hammers in your chest while you nod at him. Giving his fingers a squeeze in reassurance. “Yes Baby.” With your agreement, and a tightening of his fingers held in your grasp he starts to press into you groaning as your pussy slowly envelopes him in your tight heat.

“Fuck Angel, you feel good” Those fluttering petals of his stretching your walls as they slide into you. Setting the nerves alight as more of him disappears inside your body and throbbing as his heart rate accelerates. Once enough of his length has breached you and he’s pulling his hand away he finds yours reaching for his, the fingers of both of your hands clasped together as he thrusts gently. Slowly working more and more of him inside of you, the veins on the side of his neck starting to stand out from the strain of keeping his hips from just surging forward.

“God Baby.” Panting as you watch him, the muscles along his body tense “You’re making me feel amazing.” Every one of those petals twitching on their own means your G spot has been hit several times as he impales you on his length, the glide from your own fluids and his making it feel like he’s a perfect fit even though you know he’s stretching you to the point of pain. He’s just so big.

“I know love, I know.” A few more inches and he’ll have worked the full length of his sex into your core. “Almost there, just a bit more.” He could feel the sweat collecting at the base of his neck and soaking his hair, shaking as he tried to hold himself back. Sinking his fangs into his bottom lip, he needs you to adjust to his size before he can move in and out of your slick cunt like he wants.

Fangs? Looking down at his body, he stills. Glad your eyes are closed as his body is shifting, his skin changing to the soft yellow and black downy-like features that remind him of earth bird feathers. This hadn’t happened last time.

“Baby?” Your soft voice has him moving again, he doesn’t want you to freak out and open your eyes to see him like this. Groaning as the muscles of his back shift and the longer appendages grow and sprout their own longer feathers.

“Hush Angel. Just stay relaxed.” As deep as he can do, and as much as part of his mind is screaming at him not to he stills again. You need time to adjust to his sex deep in your pussy, the tip very much pressed against the deepest part of you. Breathing deeply and watching your body as it shakes from the intrusion, micro spasms from your walls make him moan. And let out a noise very much like a chirping.

Opening your eyes at the sound, you take in the being kneeling between your legs. “Is that what you really look like Baby?” A throb at your center as his tip brushes your cervix, god he’s so deep you feel so stuffed.

“I” Releasing one of his soft-feathered hands you reach up and ghost your fingers over his face. The blue has overtaken his whole eye and it really does look like the night sky is hidden behind those lenses on his face, specks of white seeming to shine from the blue orbs.

“Maybe it should be me calling you Angel” Blinking slowly another pulse from him inside your slick channel has you sighing as you relax even more. This really does feel so different from last time. “You look so handsome Eriks.”

The last bit of tension leaves him, crooning into your hand. “No. You’re my Angel” saying your name like a prayer once more and with the slowing of the clenching of your walls. He starts to move in earnest, moving at a slow pace that still both of you sighing from the sensation. “My savior” watching your face as he moves, looking for any sign of movement you feel pain or want him to stop. Instead, you just keep moaning watching him as he rolls his hips against yours.

After a while, and the sweat is pouring from your body you notice he’s still biting his lips and while he’s thrusting into you harder now the pinch in his brow tells you he’s holding back. The new appendages he’s sprouted and held tight to his body, the occasional quiver of a feather. Sliding your hand down his neck and letting out a choked noise at how soft those feathers feel he stills inside you once more. “Baby. Just let go.” Licking your lips as you let a smile filled with love overtake your face. “I know you won’t hurt me. So don’t hold back.”

Like a dam breaking, Eriks starts to slam into you. That thin thread that he had been holding so tight snapping as he bucks against your core slamming his sex hard enough into you that you find it hard to catch your breath. Mewling at the frantic movement of his hips as you try to match his speed, his feathery appendages enclosing both of you with a few wrapping around your upper arms.

Shifting his body so he’s pressed more against you and his breath is washing over your face as he makes noises like an animal in distress. Or in this case, you guess pleasure. All you can do is hang on for the ride, wrapping both of your arms around his body panting at the sensation of his feathers rubbing against your body pushing you closer and closer to your orgasm.

A pained whine from him as he shifts his body once more and there isn’t a space between the two of you, his length jackhammering shallowly but you’re still at that edge as his petals spread more and more apart. “Eriks!” Screaming as you feel something plunge into your womb and unlike last time you don’t feel pain. Just a vague sense of pleasure flooding your senses as your pussy starts to milk his length and you close your eyes.

Eriks feels as you go limp in his hold once more, impaled on his sex and pierced on a part of him so your body is held in place. Resting on his elbows he coos at you, hearing you moan softly at him. Smiling he presses a kiss to your temple, feeling another part of his sex shift and follow the spike holding you in place to a part of your sex he knows your own species can’t reach during reproduction. Settling more of his weight against you as he starts to plant one of his eggs inside you, hoping it will attach and grow within your body.

Sometime later you wake up, in a different position than you had passed out in and Eriks is making some kind of sound that reminds you of the coo of a dove. Your head resting against his chest, the metal over his heart still pressing against you even through the feathers he’s grown. Tilting your head upwards you see he’s looking down at you, the lens of his glasses stopping you from seeing his eyes directly. “Angel. You’re awake.”

“Hmmm. How long was I out for?” Shifting you realize you’re still impaled on his length, and belatedly notice you can feel something moving inside your pussy.

“Not long. It might have been for the better” pressing his lips against the top of your head and letting out another coo. “I’m almost done.”

Moaning you move your arms, before letting out a chuckle as some of the feathers are wrapped around you still but you can shift them enough so your hands are pressed to his chest. He has both of you sitting up but all your weight against him, trailing your fingers along his chest in random patterns. “Ok, Baby.” Bitting your lip before you say anything again. “Before you ask, I feel sore. But not like last time, this was way better my love.”

“Good.” His long fingers run along your spine in a soothing motion, clenching as you feel another movement inside of you. “Now we wait.”

“Hmm. Marry me.” You mumbled against his chest. It’s out of nowhere but if you’re going to carry his children and be their mother you might as well go all the way.

“Done.” A content rumble shaking you against his chest.

“I guess this was a good first Halloween for you. You got to play a trick and I got a treat.” A moment of silence and you both start laughing.

Two years later

“Mom! Asher is taking forever!” Hands in the sink you turn to see a young boy who very much bears a striking resemblance to Eriks stomp into the kitchen dressed like a vampire. “We’re not gonna get any candy like this!”

Laughing you pull the plug from the drain in the sink, the last dish clean and wipe your hands on a cloth near the sink. Dragging the boy into your embrace and feeling him pout. “I promise Felix, you’re going to get enough candy to give yourself a tummy ache. I’m sure your brother is going as fast as he can.”

A noise of frustration from your younger son, even if you and Eriks really couldn’t tell which one of them is the younger of the two. After that Halloween night a short four months later Eriks had gone, well, bonkers. Throwing everything out of your closet and dragging all the bedding inside it, essentially making a nest. Claiming your swollen belly was soon going to be flat again.

Sure enough, three days later you woke up in a cold sweat to a spasming core and just before dawn after a night of excruciating pain you’d lain two eggs. Scowling as you were resting in the nest of fabric and moaning about how your species wasn’t meant to lay eggs. Eriks just looked bashful pressed against your side with both of your fleshy looking eggs between your bodies keeping them warm. Suffice to say, you called in sick that stormy February day after and recovered.

As time passed you both spent more and more time in the nest, leaving only for work and food. The day you got a frantic call from Eriks you don’t even remember the drive home, just suddenly being there and watching as your boys broke out of the strange eggs and you cried all night and day as you held them and he held you.

Once your boys started growing faster, you and Eriks also discussed moving. People had noticed your pregnancy and the sudden lack of a swollen belly then the sound of crying infants months later. People were far too nosey and you were not going to lose your family because of it, not after what you had been through.

Now living at the edge of a small town and the boys had slowed down their development somewhat you felt safe for the first time since their birth. And given the time of year, Eriks thought going trick or treating for the first time would be a great family outing.

Speaking of Eriks.

As you stood there consoling Felix, a taller blond appeared with your other son in tow covered in green makeup. “Look, Mom! I’m Frankenstein!”

“Oh, how scary” placing a hand over your mouth pretending to be scared as Asher held up his little hands menacingly.

“Can we go now!” Laughing once more you nod, sending both boys towards the door and watching their father grin and you step into his warm embrace.

“It’s been a short two years.” Whispered against your temple as he pressed a kiss there, gently swaying you back and forth.

“I know.” Tilting your head to kiss the skin under his jaw and hearing a small thrill from him, noises he’s made more of since you saw his other form. “I wouldn’t change a thing.”

“Come on!” Another stomp and you both laugh heading for the door arm in arm, pulling on your boots while both boys wait even if Felix is still stomping his feet waiting for you and Eriks.

Once dressed, your little family heads down the street and walks into town, Eriks keeping one arm wrapped around your shoulders as you watch the boys head up to the first step. “Ya know” whispered against the side of your head as the twins both call trick or treat, his scruffy chin rubbing against the side of your face. “I love you Angel.”

“Funny, I was just thinking how I love you. Even if you do leave feathers in our bed sometimes” Chuckling a little as Felix gave a loud thank you before grabbing Asher's hand and running down the steps towards you and Eriks. Laughing as he pecked your cheeks, and both boys groaned.

“Ewww!” Letting out a laugh and following your twin boy and your love’s arm wrapped around you, you’re glad you took a chance in holding out your hand that cold wintery day. Maybe someday you and Eriks will have one more kid but for now you’re happy to watch your twin boys grow up, already seeing both yourself and their father in their mannerisms.

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Well it's been fun folks. I'll be back to my regular postings of randomness instead of all monsters every day again.

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