#caring is *the* full-time job. it's incredibly demanding work and so many places are... expecting that you can do it for free like
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
Text
One of my perhaps unpopular opinions is being a full-time at-home caregiver (to a parent, a child, whomever) should absolutely be considered work and should absolutely be paid like having a conventional job.
Giving caregivers the financial stability and freedom to live as independently as possible is important, especially in terms of being somebody's caregiver. Both the carer and caree deserve to be stable, independent, and have their needs met.
#politics#us politics#i think it's very precarious to rely on one income in the sense of financial abuse#i for sure don't think this is a universal solution but i also don't think someone should be fucked over because...#...being a carer isn't a 'real job'. what the fuck is that line of thinking#caring is *the* full-time job. it's incredibly demanding work and so many places are... expecting that you can do it for free like#that's fucked up to me#it's great that *some* states have compensation for caregivers. it's not enough. yet.#i don't know why but this has been bothering me for literal weeks now
171 notes
¡
View notes
Text
Hand To Your Heart (Chapter 3)
Hi, friends. Thank you so much for your incredible patience with me on this chapter. When I started writing this story, I had noooo clue that Iâd unexpectedly be stepping into a new chapter of life at the exact same moment. I donât really want to delve into details yet, but I hope to give you the full story someday soon :) Like all of life, itâs a mixture of good and bad, but mostly good.
As always, please trust that this angst-fest will have a lovely resolution.
-E.
tagging @today-in-fic
Present Day
Scully isnât sure what exactly she expects from Mulder after that awful night in his apartment. Apart from their slightly tipsy decision to become friends with benefits many weeks ago, they have never openly addressed their sexual arrangement. It is a frail, vulnerable thing. To put words to it would surely break it.
But after slipping out the door of his apartment, she does half-expect to receive a phone call later that evening. Hey, Scully, sorry I fell asleep, and sorry about . . .
Sorry about what? He fucked her, which was the agreement they made. No one ever promised anything about making sure the other person enjoyed it. For all intents and purposes, Mulder did nothing out of the ordinary. He canât ensure she comes every single time they have sex; hell, he may not have even realized she didnât come. In his mind, thereâs probably no issue at all.
But Mulder isnât any old caveman who sticks it in and finishes without thought to his partnerâs pleasure. In fact, every single other time theyâve been together, heâs lavished her with attention, usually pulling one or two orgasms from her before he even begins to think about tending to his own needs.
Sheâs not crazy, then. That night was an anomaly. So what possible excuse could he have for treating her the way he did? She ticks off the possibilities:
Maybe he was drunk. Sheâs fairly sure she tasted alcohol on his breath, and she knows that even for a man his size, he has a relatively low tolerance. Or maybe he was getting sick. Maybe he was feeling bad. Maybe he just couldnât stop thinking about his burning office.
Can she forgive him for it? If he comes to her and apologizes, will it be enough to lure her back into his bed?
Although her logical mind says no, no way, I wonât put myself in that position ever again, her emotional brain knows the truth. She would slip back into his arms like water cascading over sharp rocks. Although their arrangement hurts her, she loves it too much, even when itâs awful. She loves that she is the woman Mulder chooses to bring to bed. She loves that she is the person who gets to touch him and taste him. She loves that she is the one who gets to stare into his eyes as he comes.
When she leaves his apartment, she is full of fury and humiliation, but when she wakes the next morningâphysically sore and emotionally woundedâsome of that initial anger dies. She knows she has a tendency to forgive him too quickly, and that this tendency is borne from a deep-seated terror that he will stop wanting and needing her.
She wants so badly to be hard and cold towards him. She wants so badly to demand an apology, to stand up for herself and her dignity.
But when he walks into work the next morning and takes his place at his desk, everything inside her seizes up. If I bring this thing to light, she reminds herself as she watches him shed his suit jacket, I give myself away. Once he knows that I care, itâs all over.
And so she stays quiet, and apart from a quick hello, Mulder does too. In fact, for the rest of the day, he hardly acknowledges her. Days pass in this way and she starts to grow more and more concerned that sheâs done something wrong. That maybe he fucked her like that because heâs angry at her.
Should she ask him?
She nearly works up the courage to demand answers, but distraction in the form of a bomb threat in Texas arrives. The distraction does its job, balancing out their equilibrium, lowering Mulderâs low-simmering frustration and softening Scullyâs hard edges. Some of their normal camaraderie even returns. Mulder turns playful, a bit jokey, excited to get out of D.C. and turn his mind from the excruciating loss of the X-Files.
When they return to D.C., Scully swears she sees a new page turning for them. He almost kisses her right there in his hallway, and though theyâve done this act dozens of times before, this time feels different. Its approach is slow, deliberate, and weighty, and the affection in his gaze disarms her. Maybe sex isnât all there is between them. Maybe Mulder does feel more for her than lust.
And then thereâs a bee and an impossible journey to Antarctica. If anything were going to repair this broken relationship, it would be Mulderâs dazzling heroics.
And yet.
They return to D.C., frostbitten and exhausted, and Mulder turns angry and moody and inaccessible once again. Heâs livid when she waffles on whether they saw a spaceship in Antarctica, and heâs furious to find out that Jeffrey Spender and Diana Fowley have been assigned to the X-Files.
Relegated to the bull pen, they interact less and less. A few weeks ago, humiliated and angry and unsatisfied, she vowed never to sleep with him again. But now, even if she wanted to engage with him in that way, there would be few chances to do so. All their earlier pretenses for getting together disappear. Without the X-Files, he no longer has a reason to drop by her apartment to âgo over a file.â She no longer has a reason to invite him out for drinks to discuss autopsy notes. They stop traveling frequently, so thereâs no conjoining rooms. Â
Her heartbreak processes slowly. Itâs been weeks since he fucked her like he didnât want her, but sheâs just now starting to feel like her world is falling apart. Because even though she will not pursue him, the sad reality simmers in her subconscious: she wishes he would pursue her. But weeks pass and time stretches between them, and he doesnât make a move. There are days when she can convince herself that Mulder is just bored and unhappy and unmotivated, and that he doesnât have the energy to work up a sex drive. But on other days, her steadfast sense of rationalism kicks in, and she is smart enough to discern that he simply doesnât want her anymore.
It hurts. It hurts, but she doesnât let it show. She dons a cold mask and watches as they grow more and more distant from each other.
Everythingâs fine, she tells herself on repeat, day after day after day.
But at night, when sheâs alone, she drops her face into her hands and cries. Because theyâre broken. Sheâs broken.
And everything is not fine.
**
It is a hot, cloudless summer day when the elevator door slides open and Scully spies Diana Fowley walking through the bull pen. Itâs been weeks since their paths have crossed, although Scully occasionally spies the other woman at security checkpoints during the morning rush hour. It is rare, however, to see her up on this floor.
Distracted, Scully forgets to exit the elevator car and has to lunge to catch the closing door. The hot coffee sheâs holding in a flimsy paper cup sloshes down her wrist and forearms and she curses as she steps out into the hallway.
âCareful,â comes a disapproving voice, and Scullyâs head snaps up. Diana brushes her shoulder as she sashays into the elevator, mouthing ouch as her lips curl into a twisted little wince.
Cheeks flaming, Scully scowls and continues down the hallway towards the bull pen. Diana Fowley never brings good news, so sheâs not exactly surprised to find that Mulder is already starting to pack up for the day.
âGoing somewhere?â she asks, glancing casually at her watch. Itâs not even noon.
He flashes her a neutral look, nodding. âMaryland.â
She bites her cheek. âWith Agent Fowley?â
If Mulder is surprised at her guess, he doesnât show it, just yanks his suit jacket from his chair and swings it over his arm. âYep.â
Scully frowns, stepping around the desk to block him from leaving. He sighs irritably and runs a hand across his jaw.
âWhat is it, Scully?â he asks with an impatient glance at the clock.
She tamps down the pesky surge of hurt that flashes through her. âIs there a case?â
âYep.â
âWhy wasnât I informed?â
âItâs X-Files business,â he replies evasively.
âYou arenât on the X-Files anymore, Mulder.â
He shrugs. âDianaâs requested my expertise on this matter.â
âJust yours?â
âShe doesnât need a scientist around, if thatâs what youâre asking,â he replies, finally making eye contact with her. âThis is an investigation into a paranormal event. Itâs not really up your alley.â
She balks, her eyebrows flying to her hairline. âNot up my alley? Really, Mulder?â
âYou know what I mean,â he huffs aggravatedly. âDonât take it the wrong way.â
But her hands are beginning to tremble. âMight I remind you that I was an equal partner on the X-Files for nearly five years, Mulder? That all we did was investigate the paranormal and the unexplained and the unsolved phenomena of our world? In fact, you might even be able to say that the paranormal has been my bread and butter for nearly half a decade.â
He rubs at his eyes so hard that sheâs tempted to reach out and stop him. Youâll get wrinkles, she would have chided him a few months ago. Now, she simply stays silent. Â
âFine, come if you really want,â he says with a half-hearted shrug.
âGee, what a warm invitation,â she snaps. She digs her fingernails into her palms, trying to tamp down her rising indignation. But itâs been building and building and building for so long, for so many weeks, and sheâs not sure she has any control over it anymore.
Refusing to take the bait, he sighs. âCome if you must, Scully, but like I said, thereâs no need. Itâs just going to be me and Diana on this. Donât waste your time on something that doesnât involve youââ
âBut Iâm your partnerââ
âWeâre not partners,â he retaliates, so loudly that several people look up from their desks.
Itâs a low blow, and the regret that briefly flashes across his face tells her that he knows it too. But heâs mostly right. They arenât really partners, not anymore. Not in the way they were when they were investigating the X-Files.
Crossing her arms protectively across her chest, she lifts her eyes to meet his gaze. âSo you have a new partner then?â She just barely resists adding, âsomeone leggy and buxom and brunette, perhaps?â
His jaw twitches. âOh, donât do this, Scully.â
âThatâs not an answer, Mulder.â
He shakes his head and takes a step closer, dropping a large palm heavily across her shoulder. âYou know Diana has been consulting with me since she took over the X-Files,â he says, speaking to her like sheâs a child. Her stomach turns and she bites back the words she wants to say: no, I didnât know that. âThose files mean everything to me, Scully, and you know that. I canât say no to the opportunity to work on them just because that opportunity doesnât involve you. Donât hold me back here.â
The breath leaves her body. Stunned, she steps back, letting his hand slide off her shoulder. In her mindâs eye, sheâs suddenly back in his hallway, many weeks ago. Iâve just held you back, she hears herself telling him. But you saved me! he replies earnestly. As difficult and as frustrating as itâs been sometimes, your goddamned strict rationalism and science have saved me a thousand times over! Youâve kept me honest . . . youâve made me a whole person.
Did he mean any of it? Or was all of it just to keep her under his control?
Turning away from him, she tries to ignore the infuriating sting of tears building in her eyes. And if Mulder notices her pain, he doesnât say anything. After a few seconds, when sheâs sure she can look at him without crying, she tips her face up to his. Her mouth parts and she tries to speak, tries to say anything to recover her dignity. But emotions choke in her throat and she just drops her head again. She feels him step in close and this time, she canât stop the tears that break over her lashes.
âScully, come on, stop, I didnât mean it like that,â he says earnestly, his palm falling to her back, his lips to her ear. In her mind, he is fucking her too roughly, too emotionlessly, too distantly. In her mind, he is falling asleep before she even has a chance to come. In her mind, she is sitting in the car crying as her body burns with pain.
âIâm sorry,â he continues, slipping his hand down to squeeze her waist. It is too familiar, and she flinches. âYou donât hold me back, Scully, you know that. But this case has potential and Iâm finally feeling motivated about something. This is important to me.â
What he doesnât say is plain enough: youâre no longer important to me.
She nods, biting her lip hard enough to draw blood. The taste of iron reminds her of the nosebleeds she used to get when the cancer was ravaging her body. If she had died then, would Mulder respect her more? She would have become like a martyr to his cause, someone to be revered and worshipped the rest of his life, like Samantha. If only she had succumbed then, maybe he would love her now.
âScully,â he tries again, and she shakes her head.
âItâs fine,â she says a little too brightly, plastering on a fake smile and glancing up at him for good measure. All she knows right now is that he canât see how badly heâs hurt her. To admit to that would be to admit that she cares about him far more than he cares about her. It is self-annihilation.
âItâs good,â she continues, her voice rising. âItâs good that youâre happy. Thatâs all Iâthatâs all I want, Mulder.â
And to her astonishment, he bends down and presses a quick kiss to her cheek. She recoils, shrinking towards the desk. By the time she recovers from her shock, he is already out the door.
#mulder x scully#dana scully#the x files#x files#x files fanfic#fox mulder#txf#msr fanfic#msr#xfiles fanfic#fox mulder my beloved
21 notes
¡
View notes
Text
Hi, Iâm Toni.
Got a slew of new followers and Iâve been almost inactive the last half a year (at least) so wanted to do an update/intro so you know who I am LOL and so my long suffering fandom besties know what the fuckâs been going on (if anyone still cares rip sorry itâs been forever)
Currently writing this from my sick bed of ear cellulitis? That I got from wearing my mask? It would literally only happen to me. Had to go to urgent care and get a butt shot of antibiotics so it didnât, you know, spread to my bloodstream :)
Anyways I say that to say that I probably got sick in the first place because Iâm incredibly run down right now. The classical music world (im a professional musician) FINALLY opened up again, and to meet gig demands I only work my pandemic retail job once a week. I have been traveling the last four weekends in a ROW, which, due to my chronic pain (which has seen SOME improvement over the last year!!) makes me super duper exhausted and I have to admit tik tok has been getting most of my brain numbing time.
Life post-happy drugs has been tough. Iâve seen improvement in the areas I wanted to, physically, but mentally god. Drugs were nice. Anywho, Iâve done a ton of witchy/ancestral connecting/herbalist kinda things the last six months, and I now have an alter and a spiritual practice that has really brought me a lot of growth and meaning. Itâs hard healing from your past when youâre still living IN it⌠and thereâs no improvement with my parents. Theyâre still homophobic as hell and Republican as fuck, despite screaming matches. The threats of physical violence prevent me from confronting my dad any further. Iâve kind of given up hoping they will ever change.
Itâs funny though, I would classify this year as the year I started to âfeelâ things, and of course that happened physically post the drugs, but also emotionally once I started to let myself FEEL emotions, god what a train wreck. Who knew humans could CRY so much? That emotional revelation led to the probably overdue realization that Iâm likely Autistic and high masking, and have been suffering from that classic 30âs wall that âgifted girl high masking autistic childrenâ eventually hit wherein they are no longer able to just push through and ignore. Thatâs been tough.
Writing has always been how I process and understand emotions, and now that Iâve started to actually FEEL them, it hasnât become as essential to my functioning as it had been the last six or so years. I miss it, and I plan on finishing all my projects I left behind⌠as Iâve said many time The Garden part 3 IS coming I promise lol. But! Hopefully. And no promises. But I have the most delightful Christmas fic tucked into my head that I would love to publish this year, if I can find the time to get it on paper.
Okay as for fandom⌠I did a âgrowth thingâ earlier this year and deleted all the bbygate stuff Iâd been saving for the inevitable end. I just canât anymore. All the photoshop, the blatant exploitation of it all⌠yeah I think the best option is just not to care. If theyâre gonna drag this out for the rest of my life then Iâm going to ignore the shit out of it. Speaking of ignoring, I also noped out of the H and O nonsense. God. What a MESS. I liked HH, truly, but the fave for me was Matilda. To be honest with you all, I listened until I grew naturally full of the album and I moved on with my life, it wasnât world changing to me the way FL was. HOWEVER. FITF? Lord save me i didnât even know it was coming out and it hit me like a ton of bricks. Iâm fucking obsessed. Iâm planning a MP. I genuinely think itâs Louisâ finest work and I canât get enough of it. Every time I listen I like it MORE. I theorize itâs going to be a slow blooming album that smacks everyoneâs expectations in the face. Iâm so fucking proud of Louis. I bawled real ugly tears at Common People.
And lastly as always, I believe the boys were in love but I make no claims about their lives now. I enjoy the hints and speculation and love larrying along, but I think theyâve established these personas that are bulletproof to fan speculation these days, and I feel thatâs how they truly want it. And thatâs cool, wonât stop me from writing Larry because it was the truest gayest baby Star crossed lovers story out there and still makes the best fan fic.
Apologies for the novel but nice to meet you if youâre new HI IâM TRYING TO BE BACK to my old chums, and feel free as always to talk to me, my ask box is always open â¤ď¸
17 notes
¡
View notes
Text
Unlock Your Future: Top Phlebotomist Jobs in Rhode Island for 2023
Unlock Your Future: Top Phlebotomist Jobs in Rhode Island for 2023
Are you considering a career in phlebotomy? If âŁso, youâre âin the right place! The demand for skilled phlebotomists inâ Rhode Island is growing, making it an excellent time to explore⤠job opportunities. This article highlights the top phlebotomist jobs in Rhode Island for 2023, salary expectations, benefits of the âprofession, practical tips for job seekers, and âpersonal experiences that showcase the rewarding ânatureâ of this career. Read on to unlock your âfuture in phlebotomy!
Why Choose a Career in Phlebotomy?
Phlebotomy is an essential role within theâ healthcare industry, and it offers â˘numerous benefits:
Short Training Period: ⤠Becoming a certified phlebotomist typically requires just a âfew months of training, making it an accessible career.
Strong Job Market: With the increasing need for blood samples, the demand for phlebotomists continues to rise.
Flexible Hours: Phlebotomists often â˘enjoy flexible scheduling, helping to â¤balance work with personal commitments.
Impactful Work: Youâll play a crucial role inâ patient care and diagnostics, directly contributing to healthcare outcomes.
Top Phlebotomist âŁJobs in Rhode Island âŁforâ 2023
As ofâ 2023, several healthcare facilities âin Rhode Island are actively seeking skilled phlebotomists. Hereâs a list of top employers along with key details:
Employer Name
Location
Salary Range
Job Type
Application⤠Link
Rhode Island Hospital
Providence, RI
$35,000 â- $45,000
Full-time
Applyâ Here
South County Health
Wakefield, RI
$34,000 â $44,000
Part-time
Apply Here
Care New England
Warwick,â RI
$36,000 â $46,000
Full-time
Apply Here
Women & âInfants Hospital
Providence, RI
$33,000 â $43,000
Full-time
Apply Here
CVS Health
Woonsocket, RI
$34,000 â $44,500
Part-time
Apply Here
Salary Expectations for Phlebotomists in Rhode â¤Island
Understanding salary expectations is crucial for âŁanyone consideringâ a career in phlebotomy. According to recent reports:
The average phlebotomist salary in Rhode Island â˘is approximately ⢠$40,000 â annually.
Entry-level positions typically start at around $30,000.
Experienced phlebotomists can earn upwards of $50,000, especially in specialized settings.
Practical Tips for âŁAspiring Phlebotomists
If â˘you are interested in becoming a phlebotomist, consider these practical tips:
Complete Your Training: Enroll in an accredited phlebotomy program to gain â˘theâ necessary skills and certification.
Gain Hands-On Experience: Seek internships or volunteer opportunitiesâ in clinical settings⢠to enhance your resume.
Network: Join âprofessional âorganizations like the American âSociety â˘for Clinical Pathology (ASCP) toâ connect with industry professionals.
Stay Updated: Follow industry trends and continue your education to stay competitive⤠in the job market.
Real-life Experiences of Phlebotomists
Hearing⤠firsthand experiences can âprovide valuable insights into the â¤phlebotomy â˘profession. âHere are stories âfrom two phlebotomists working in â¤Rhode Island:
Emily, Rhode Island Hospital
âI â˘love being a phlebotomist because every dayâ is different. I interact with many patients, which makes my⤠job fulfilling. Initially, I was nervous about my training, but the hands-on experience helped me gain confidence â˘fast!â
Joe, South County Health
âPhlebotomy is rewarding work. Knowing that I play a â˘part in diagnosing patients and helping doctors is incredibly satisfying. Plus, the flexible hours allow me to balance work with my studies!â
Conclusion
Phlebotomy is a fulfilling and rewarding careerâ choice with growing job opportunities in Rhode Island. Whether âŁyouâre just starting your journey or looking to advance yourâ career,â understanding the job market, salary expectations, and practical tips can significantly boost your âŁchances of success.â Weâve outlined some of the top phlebotomist jobs in Rhode Island for 2023 and shared invaluable insights from current professionals. So, what are you waiting for? Unlock your future in phlebotomy today!
youtube
https://phlebotomycareertraining.net/unlock-your-future-top-phlebotomist-jobs-in-rhode-island-for-2023/
0 notes
Text
Discover Top CNA Classes in Bismarck, ND: Your Pathway to a Rewarding Healthcare Career
Discover Top â˘CNA Classes in Bismarck, ND: Your Pathway to a âRewarding Healthcare Career
Are you looking to launch a gratifying career in the healthcare sector? If so, âbecoming â¤a âCertified Nursing Assistant (CNA) in⣠Bismarck, ND, could be your âideal path! With a growing demand for healthcareâ professionals and ample job opportunities,⤠CNA classes in Bismarck provide a stepping stone towards a fulfilling career.
Why Choose âCNA Classes in Bismarck, ND?
With its thrivingâ healthcare facilities and community-driven environment, Bismarck is an excellent place to pursue CNA training. Here âare⤠several⤠compelling reasons to consider CNA classes in this vibrant North Dakota city:
High Demand: The healthcare industry is booming, leading to a rising demand for CNAs in Bismarck âŁand surrounding â¤areas.
Affordable Education: â CNA programs are often budget-friendly compared to⤠other â˘healthcare education paths, allowing you to enter the field⢠with minimal debt.
Hands-On â˘Training: âMost CNA courses emphasize practicalâ experience, ensuring you graduate with the skills needed in â¤real-world settings.
Flexible âScheduling: â Many programs offer evening and weekend classes toâ accommodate work or⢠family commitments.
Finding the Right CNA Program⣠in Bismarck
To ensureâ you â¤choose the best CNA class for âŁyour⢠needs, consider the following factors:
Accreditation and State⣠Approval
Make⣠sure theâ program you â¤select is accredited and meets North Dakotaâs regulatory requirements. This is crucial for your eligibility to take⢠the certification exam upon completion.
Program Length and Format
CNA programs⣠vary in length, typically ranging from âŁ4 to 12 weeks. Choose a format that fits âyour scheduleâfull-time,⤠part-time, or evenings/weekends.
Curriculum âŁand Skills Training
Look â¤for a program that covers essential topics such as:
Basic âŁnursing skills
Patient hygiene
Vital sign measurement
Communication skills
Emergency âŁprocedures
Top CNA Classes â¤in Bismarck, ND
Hereâs a list of some of the top CNA training programs in âBismarck:
Institution
Duration
Format
Website
Bismarck State College
6 Weeks
Weekdays
bsc.edu
Dakota Nursing Program
8 Weeks
Weekdays/Evenings
dakotanursing.net
University of Mary
10 Weeks
Weekends
umary.edu
North Dakota Jobâ Service
12 Weeks
Flexible
ndjobs.com
Benefits of Becoming a CNA
Enrolling inâ a âŁCNA program in âŁBismarckâ offers numerous âŁbenefits âto aspiring healthcare professionals:
Job Security
With an increasing aging population, the need â¤for CNAs is âexpected to rise, providing robust â¤job security.
Opportunities for Advancement
CNA roles often serve as stepping stones âfor further careers in nursing or specialized healthcare roles.
Meaningful Work
As a CNA, you play a critical role in patient care, contributing significantly to their comfort and well-being.
Real Experiences: Former Studentsâ Insights
Hear from⤠recent âŁgraduates on their experiencesâ in Bismarckâs CNA programs:
âThe hands-on training I received at Bismarck State âŁCollege was âinvaluable. I felt prepared to take on my responsibilities in the healthcare field.â â Jenna R., âCNA Graduate
âTheâ instructors were incredibly supportive, helping to make a challengingâ program manageable and enjoyable âatâ the same âtime!â â Ryan T., âCNA âGraduate
Tips âŁfor Success in Your CNAâ Program
To thrive in your CNA classes, consider the following tips:
Stay Organized: Keep â˘track of â˘assignments and deadlines to manage your time effectively.
Practice Skills Regularly: âUtilize labs⤠and practice opportunities to enhance your âskills outside the classroom.
Ask Questions: Donât hesitate to reach out âto instructors for clarification or assistance.
The Certification Process in Northâ Dakota
Upon completingâ your CNA training, youâll needâ to pass the âNorth âŁDakotaâ CNAâ Certification Exam. âŁThis typically involves:
Applying to take the exam through the stateâs health department.
Completingâ both âwritten and practical components ofâ the test.
Obtaining your certification, allowing you to work legally as a CNA.
Conclusion
With the rightâ CNA class in Bismarck, ND, you can quickly pave your way to a rewarding career in healthcare. The need for âcompassionate and skilled healthcare workers is greater than ever, and this qualification will open doors to various opportunities. By investing your time into finding the bestâ program for yourâ future, you can be well on your way toâ making a difference in⤠the lives of many⣠individuals. Startâ your journey today, âand embrace the âmeaningful path of a Certified Nursing Assistant!
youtube
https://coursescna.com/discover-top-cna-classes-in-bismarck-nd-your-pathway-to-a-rewarding-healthcare-career/
0 notes
Text
The Gods Demand a Queen
Bjorn Ironside x F!Reader
Summary: You're a thrall in Kattegat, under the rule of Bjorn, who desires to one day be Queen and sit on the throne. He helps you realise these dreams, in more ways than one.
Tags/Warnings: NSFW, smut, rough sex, throne sex, fingering, edging, orgasm denial, bit of choking, bit of spanking, size kink, praise, language, no use of Y/N
Word count: 8.5k
The Gods have never favoured you.
Youâve been at someone elseâs will for as long as you can remember. Not all of them have been nice. Itâs toughened you up, though. Youâve learnt your place and your manners. Youâve learnt when is the correct time to speak, and definitely when isnât the correct time.
Youâve been in Kattegat, under the mercy of Bjorn Ironside, for a few months now. Heâs fair. You mostly stay in the shadows and out of his way. Heâs not even here most of the time, anyway. You canât really complain about your time here, even though you dream of a different life.
You dream of sitting high on a throne somewhere. Anywhere. Not having anyone to answer to. Your own thralls and slaves to do with as you please. A thousand people who call you their Queen, who sit around you, showering you with compliments and gifts. Sacrifices in your own name. A crown upon your head and your face smeared with colours that tell everyone that you are the Queen.
Alas, dreams are dreams. And you donât dare defy the authority that lingers over you. The fate that awaits your disobedience and failure to capture the power you so desperately crave is worse than simply maintaining your fantasy. You listen attentively to the every need of the family in charge. Most notably, Bjorn.
Heâs away more often than heâs here. In those moments, the throne lays empty. Practically begging to be used. At present, no queen resides in Kattegat and you long for the feeling of the throne beneath you. It calls to you like no other.
Itâs more than a feeling that tells you that you belong on the throne. You feel as though the Gods have a plan for you. They keep you waiting, so you can ready yourself for when the times comes. It is a question of when not if. The Gods demand a queen for Kattegat, you can hear them.
You say Bjorn is away more than heâs here, yet today is one of the rare times heâs here and heâs active. A room full of people and many duties to attend to. Which also means youâve been on your feet all day. With Bjorn home and his being busy, youâve had no end of tasks to complete and requests to indulge.
It started this morning when he and his men arrived on the shores of Kattegat. You having to draw baths and prepare a feast, wash clothing and all the while do it quickly to keep time for any other jobs that might need doing. This included waiting on their every need as they enjoyed festivities for returning safely from their travels.
And so, the throne has been occupied. The only time Bjorn left his seat was to eat with his men, and he quickly returned to it when he was finished. Youâd been watching him since he returned. The way he sits, spreading across the chair. Arms thrown over the sides, legs parted, head resting against the back as he looks down at everyone else.
Despite everything you feel, thereâs no denying that power suits him. He makes a good king. He is fair and strong and courageous. And he is a son of Ragnar. He speaks with a loud, commanding voice when he addresses his people, thanking them for their bravery and telling them that they live to face more battles before walking the halls of Valhalla.
You wonât lie to yourself and say heâs not attractive, youâve thought about it before. If you werenât a thrall and spent more time with Bjorn, you like to think that something mightâve happened between the two of you. But you really have a knack for staying in the shadows, hidden, and only coming out when absolutely necessary.
Throughout the entire evening into night youâve stayed hidden away as much as possible, watching Bjorn in his position on the throne. Gods, heâs so big. You shake the thought from your head, feeling the pain in your shoulders from so much time racing around today. Your back is killing you. But itâs getting very late, not long and you should be able to go to bed. Not long, you tell yourself. Everyone in the hall should be getting tired too, a long day of celebrations after an even longer time travelling.
They start disappearing in small numbers. Many women leaving in the arms of men, some already married, others seeking comfort in one another just for the night. Youâve made it your business to become familiar with a lot of people around here, not just so you can be a good thrall, but just in case. In case of what, you donât know. You just think it might be good to have a good indication of who people are, and what they do, in case you need it.
Eventually, thereâs only you, a few other slave girls and a handful of men, who are outrageously drunk. Theyâre so loud. They shout and bang their fists and cups on the table, spilling their drinks and making an even bigger mess that will need to be cleaned up.
Bjorn looks almost fed up, scowling as he watches the men from his seat. He holds his chin, elbow propped up on the arm of the throne. âThat is quite enough.â He calls.
All eyes shoot to him. The men look like they want to argue back at him, but ultimately know better than to do so.
âFinish your drinks and leave. Everyone needs their rest.â He gestures around the room, even though there are only a few men, all concentrated on the table nearest the fire. âWe have a long few days ahead of us.â
They chug their drinks, not wanting to disappoint or annoy Bjorn any further. They leave one by one, as soon as they each finish drinking, bowing to him before swaggering out of the hall.
You and the other girls are expecting Bjorn to up and leave, letting you all take care of the mess in the hall. But he doesnât.
You each look at one another from across the room, spaced out along the walls. Youâre all as confused as each other, trying to look for someone, or something, to take a cue from.
One of the girls, directly across from you, begins to move. She steps forward gingerly, looking at Bjorn as she does so for any sign that he wants everyone to remain as they are. Itâs incredibly tense. This has never happened before. Youâre waiting for his voice to boom and echo throughout the mostly empty room, telling the girl to return to her place.
His eyes flick to her, watching as she goes to the table, picking up as many items as she can carry, before returning to stare at the ground, lost in thought and twiddling his fingers. He doesnât seem to have a problem - youâd know if he did.
And so the rest of you follow her lead, carrying things out of sight to clean and making the hall look more presentable after being thoroughly worn out by the returning warriors.
Your whole body aches. Your back, your feet, your head. Everything. At this point, you just want to sit down. The soles of your feet are probably worn from standing, walking, rushing from one place to the next.
You take any little milestone you can get. You told yourself everyone in the hall would leave and they did. Check. Now itâs four more tables to clear, the fire to put out, the goblets and cups to leave soak. The list goes on.
You and the other girls are dotted around the hall, cleaning and collecting different things when Bjorn gets up. You all make it your duty to not look at him.
Do not make it obvious that you were waiting for him to do something.
You hear him make his way across the room, his heavy boots making the wood underneath him creak, thumping across the stone floor as he descends from the elevated throne. His footsteps stop much too early for him to have already left the room, let alone the building. Itâs unbearably quiet.
You audibly gasp when you hear whispering voices - much too quiet for you to understand what theyâre saying, and thankfully theyâre too far away for them to have heard your embarrassing gasp. Although, you immediately recognise one of the voices as Bjornâs. Gods, youâd love to turn around to see what heâs doing. His behaviour tonight is continually fascinating.
You try your best to keep going with your task. âJust clean the tableâ you tell yourself. âFocus on that. Thereâs a stain, try to get it out. Pay no attention to the-â. Now thereâs two sets of footsteps. One Bjornâs, the other one of the girls. Is she leaving?
The stain. You scrub at it, trying to ignore the way Bjornâs footsteps stop again. Followed by more whispering. And more footsteps. What the fuck is going on?
You think another one of the girls has left too. You scrub harder at the stain, thinking that perhaps if you channel enough of your remaining energy into removing it then your brain wonât have any to think about what Bjorn may or may not be doing.
Gods, why are you so on edge? Would you be this tense if you could actually see what he was doing? Shit, is that more whispering? And itâs closer. Maybe if you stopped scrubbing the table so loudly you could just about hearâŚ
No. The stain.
Fuck, what is happening? In the room, to the girls, to Bjorn, to you.
You can probably guess whatâs happening to you - youâre tired. Youâre becoming delusional from being so exhausted by today. Youâve worked hard. Youâre still working hard. This damned stain. Youâre working so hard to remove it, to distract yourself, youâre only now feeling the way your shoulder is pulling from the harsh movements of your arm.
The stainâs probably gone. You lift your arm up to check and, sure enough, it is. Surely, youâre done for the night now? Youâre exhausted, the long hours youâve worked today are starting to catch up with you. You want to sit down. You want your bed. You want to rest. You want the hand thatâs just started rubbing circles across your back to keep doing it. Gods, you could fall asleep right here, the motions lulling you.
Fuck. You flash back to your reality, your head whipping around as Bjornâs eyes meet yours. He looks aggressive, towering over and shrouding you against the table. His hand rests on the small of your back as he just looks down at you. Maybe its your exhaustion, or perhaps its seeing him this close up for the first time, but Gods is he gorgeous.
Well, youâve always thought he was handsome but something about seeing the many scars on his face that youâd never had the privilege of seeing before, and the brilliant blue of his eyes somewhat dimmed in the firelight, and the coarse hairs of his beard like this snaps you awake. His smile breaks through the tough exterior he presents, making you relax just a little bit.
The next words that come out of his mouth take you by surprise more than his hand that smoothes across your back. âHave a drink with me.â
Have a drink with him? You probably look insane because you just stare at him. Completely dumbfounded. Somehow you manage to nod your head, letting him lead you away from your lovely, clean table to a slightly dirtier one. At least he appreciates your hard work.
You set yourself down on one of the benches by the fire, resting your arms on the table to try to find a comfortable position where your back doesnât ache. Bjorn, meanwhile, crosses the room, fetching with him two cups of ale. He sits down right next you, leaving a bit of space but not much.
He looks at you quizzically as he takes a gulp of his drink, whilst you sip. âWhat is your name again?â
Youâre not surprised he doesnât remember, itâs been many months since you last spoke to him outside of his instructions to you. You answer him between sips of the ale. Itâs not your favourite drink in the world, but you like it. And youâll probably get a small buzz off it between your sleepiness and the lack of water youâve drank today.
âHm,â he hums. âThat was it. You have been here for several months now, no?â
You canât help but wonder why heâs sat with you, asking you questions about yourself. Is he expecting you to ask questions back in return? You donât think thereâs a thing you donât know about him. He is the king, after all.
You nod. âAnd what do you think of Kattegat?â He swigs from his cup, eyes staying on your face as you carefully consider his question.
You have nothing negative to say about the place, but you still try to choose your words carefully in case you say the wrong thing. âI think it is lovely here.â
He stays silent, willing you to keep talking.
âThe people are nice, the food is good. And it is a beautiful place. There is much to see and do.â You elaborate.
He smiles under his beard, nodding in approval at your answer. You sip some more, waiting for another of his questions. He gets up to refill his cup, having finished it rather quickly. He checks yours, seeing it still mostly full, and walks across the room.
Just when heâs about to sit back down, he asks you another question. âAnd what do you think of the King?â
Your heart starts hammering against your chest - what sort of question is that? Moreover, what the fuck does he expect you to answer if not praise? You see his kind smile has turned into a devilish smirk when you look at him. Are you imaging it or has he sat ever-so-slightly closer to you?
You straighten yourself up, ignoring the painful tugging of your shoulders. âWell,â you begin. âI think that he is just, and fair. And that he makes a good leader.â
The smug look on his face stays, not bearing to stay silent long enough for you to make the decision to keep talking on your own. No, instead he insists you keep feeding his ego as soon as you take the smallest break in talking. âGo on.â
This time itâs you who smirks at him. âI know he is a fierce warrior. And I think that he looks rather good on the throne.â You mean the last remark in that the symbol of authority suits him. But, if he decides to take it ⌠another way, then thatâs up to him. Either way, you donât mind what he interprets the comment to mean.
He looks away from you, chuckling, but giving nothing away. It makes you laugh a little bit too, any tension from earlier having melted away with your easy interactions.
It doesnât last, not for you at least.
âTell me, have you ever thought about what it would be like to be Queen?â
With one single sentence, you feel as if he can see right through you, right into you. Fucking of course you have, but how should he know? How can, in one sentence, he be able to floor you like he this, to ask you a question so unintentionally personal? One that pulls something deep within you, something youâve never voiced to anyone and suddenly now itâs being unearthed by the one person who you should never have to confess it to. Not that you necessarily need to confess the degree to which you have thought about it, but even the insinuation that you have is enough for you to begin flustering, muddling any answer that comes into your head into an unintelligible mess that you canât verbalise.
Youâre quiet for much, much too long. You need to say something. âIâm sorry?â You settle for pretending not to understand.
But itâs no use. The damage caused by you silence is done. His jaw rocks to the side, clenched so hard his jaw bone juts outs under his beard. âSo you have.â
Your drink lays forgotten, only serving as a distraction for your anxious hands as you fidget with the rim of the cup. You avoid his gaze, unsure how to act. Then again, surely everyone has dreamt about being king or queen? Maybe not to the degree you have, but doesnât everyone strive for power? You hold your head up a little bit, feeling slightly reassured by your own line of thinking.
You keep your eyes trained forward, though. He tips his head to look at your face and you can just feel the way heâs smirking at you. Heâs left you looking so stupid, stewing in your own thoughts.
âCome with me.â Is all he says as he swings his legs over the bench to stand up. When you look up heâs waiting, hand held out for you to take.
You get up, smoothing your dress out and taking his hand. He guides you out to stand with him on the other side of the bench and leads you towards the very far end of the long room. Towards the throne.
Your eyes flick from him, to the throne, to him again - back and forth as you walk the length of the room.
He stops at the chair and you stop with him, still with your hand in his. Is he doing this as a display to taunt you? Show you up close what you can never have? Itâs fucking cruel if he is.
You wait for him to do something so you can take a cue from it. You look up at him and he simply motions with his hand to the throne. You frown, waiting for more information from him. âSit.â He says.
Sit? On the throne? On his throne? Gods, is this some sort of test? Is he giving you a taste, a mere crumb, of how it might feel to actually have power? Or is he just pushing you to see how far youâre willing to go to obey him? Itâs his throne, it belongs to him. You donât think youâve ever seen anyone else use it - not even while heâs away, far gone on a raid somewhere.
He drops your hand, using his own to push gently on your shoulders. He spins you around, pulling you down to sit on the throne as he stands behind you.
The room looks huge from this position. Slightly elevated above everyone else and able to see everything and, should the room be full, everyone. Itâs comfortable too, and big. You expected as much, Bjorn doesnât even fully fill the chair and heâs the biggest, broadest man you think youâve ever seen.
He lowers himself to your ear behind you. âHow does it feel?â
âCorrectâ, is what you want to say. âGood.â Is what you settle for.
He straightens back up, placing his hands on your shoulders. Heâs so big, and heâs putting far too much weight on your already sore shoulders, causing you to wince. âAre you alright?â He asks, alleviating some of the pressure.
ââM fine, my back hurts is all.â You try to make it not seem as bad as it is, but truthfully youâre in pain.
âLet me help.â
âN-no, it is fine, really.â You lean forward to get up from the throne just as he starts using his thumbs to dig right into a tight spot in the middle of your shoulder blades. You let out a groan at how good it feels, closing your eyes and slumping your head against the back of the chair. Any desire to get up leaves you as Bjorn works the muscles at the back of your neck.
âTell me if it is too hard.â The calloused pads of his fingers trace firmly across the tops of your shoulders, barely grazing your collar bones as his thumbs work into the top of your back.
Itâs a power trip. You sitting on his throne whilst he massages the knots out of your back and shoulders. Itâs getting you high, and you open your eyes to look out across the room. You imagine how it would look full of people. Like it was earlier tonight. Packed full with people there to see you. You'd kill for it.
Gods, his hands feel so fucking good and they spread across your shoulders so big. Your eyes flutter back closed, wanting to enjoy his touch without much other sensory experience.
Youâre reluctant to acknowledge the fact that itâs turning you on, too. The pain of him rubbing away the aches mixes with just how amazing his warm hands feel against your bare skin. It makes you moan, forgetting where you are as you revel in his hands taking the pain away from you, leaving only traces of his touch behind.
He focuses on your arms now, the clusters of dull ache now gone from your back. His palms work down your biceps, squeezing your soft flesh over your clothes and coming back up to massage your shoulders. His fingers spread out over your chest, rubbing the skin there. You hum under his touch, which he can probably feel reverberating on your chest under his fingertips.
You didnât tell him your chest hurt, but he spends time concentrating on manipulating your flesh there anyway. His fingers dig into the bones, coming up momentarily to wrap his thick fingers around your neck, squeezing before dipping back down. He repeats this a few times, making you whimper every time he does.
âIs this good?â He whispers from behind you.
You moan out a small âyesâ, letting him continue with his handy work. His splayed hands come further down your chest, beginning to dip below the necklace of your dress. Your heart beats faster and fuck, youâre wet. Youâre trying not to let it get to you but in this moment, youâd let him do anything to you, you realise.
You furrow your brows, trying to push it to the back of your mind, but his hands keep working further and further down, in tiny increments. You swear heâs going to reach your breasts any moment. But he doesnât. It feels like heâs teasing you. In fact, he goes anywhere besides them. He massages the skin directly above them, kneading into it with the heel of his palm. Then, he dips his fingertips deep into the neckline of your dress, drawing a long, hard line through the middle of your chest, dragging between your breasts. He starts near the bottom of your sternum, feeling the rapid beat of your heart as you try not to think about the warmth pooling between your legs.
You donât see the way his jaw clenches as he realises how rousing youâre finding this, being groped and touched by him. He told himself he wasnât going to take it any further, but he canât help himself. Not when you respond to his touch like this. All the little moans youâve been making, and the way your heart thrums against your chest. He wants more from you. He wants to hear and feel more of you. Fuck it, he thinks.
He touch leaves you, and you feel yourself come down slightly from a high you didnât even realise was so severe until it cuts short. You open your eyes to see him walking around to the front of the throne again. He extends his hand to you, much like he did earlier, and you know its your signal to get up from the throne.
You take it, feeling no pain whatsoever in your back, nor shoulders, when you hurl yourself from the comfort of the chair.
He surveys you, using his free hand to cup your cheek. His touch is intoxicating. You donât know what it is, but the way his hands feel on your skin makes you chase the warmth of him, needing more than the short strokes he gives you. You lean your head into his palm, only slightly but enough to indicate your interest to him.
Heâs trying so hard not to give into the part of his brain that tells him to kiss you and to touch you even more. But he hasnât done well at fighting it up until now. And, unless heâs deluded, you want this too.
Your chest rises and falls, waiting for him to do something. Itâs not your place to. His hand stays holding your cheek. Itâs so fucking big. Itâs big enough for his palm to cover your entire cheek. Gods, his hands were big enough to almost spread out across your chest. His long, thick fingers working at the base of your neck and down past your breasts. Your mind drifts as you stare at him, thinking about how they might feel somewhere else.
His hand drops from your cheek. You think heâs going to walk away and leave you desperate for his touch again. Instead, he sits back down on his throne, looking up at you as he settles against the back of it casually.
Fucking Gods, if he keeps looking at you like that youâre going to jump on him. Itâs him that made you feel like this anyway. You were perfectly content to go to bed after finishing cleaning, but no. He had to ask if you wanted a drink with him, and ask you questions, and fucking massage you as you sat on his throne.
He keeps looking at you, considering what to do next. All he knows is he wants you out of your dirty, worn clothes. He flicks his hand up and down, gesturing at them. âTake it off.â He tells you.
Finally, you think, trying not to be too eager in removing your garments.
You start with your shirt, unhooking the top few buttons to allow you to slip the long sleeves down your arms. You let the sleeves fall and the rest of the garment goes with it, left in a heap at your feet. Youâre completely revealed for him, your body glowing from the light of the fire behind you.
His cock twitches in his trousers upon seeing you bare before him. Heâs trying not to be too obvious, trying to be patient in looking at your body, but heâs greedy. His eyes roam over you, drinking in every inch of your exposed skin that he can see.
You look down at the slight tent in his trousers, smirking at him. He returns it, curling his finger at you to beckon you forward. Youâre much too far away, he wants to let his hands explore you. Much further than they already did.
You walk to him, meeting his hands as they come up to hold your tits. Those big fucking hands that trace under the swell of your breast. That grope at your flesh, and his thumbs that brush over your nipples, hard in the cool night air that makes its way into the hall.
He alternates between pinching your nipples, pulling them so hard it almost hurts, and soothing them again by gently rubbing over them.
Everything about this feels so dirty. Displaying yourself to Bjorn. The literal king. Offering yourself to him naked like this whilst he sits completely clothed on his throne. You know youâre probably not the first thrall heâs done this with, but itâs a first for you. And you actually like it. Itâs a thrill. Whimpering at every roll of his fingertips over your nipples.
You ache for his touch somewhere else, trying to subtly squeeze your thighs together to relieve some of the ache. He doesnât seem to be in any sort of hurry, taking his time to study every detail and flaw in your skin. It could be ages before he touches you elsewhere - if he decides to touch you elsewhere.
He pinches you again, but youâre so sensitive from his hands that you yelp, chest jumping under his touch. He looks up at you, looking at your face for the first time since you removed your clothes as he leans forward, enveloping your breast in his mouth. His tongue is hot but does wonders to soothe the slight stinging. He maintains eye contact as he swirls gentle circles around your nipple, leave a small bite before he moves to work on your other one. His beard scratches at your skin as he moves his mouth, melting in with the pleasure he's already giving you.
You snake your arm around his head, holding him to you as you watch him in awe. Heâs an expert with his tongue, flicking and drawing patterns over the peaks. He moves on from focusing all of his attention on them though, sucking sloppy wet kisses into the bouncy flesh on your tits. He travels the kisses across your chest, leaving you glistening with his saliva. He goes down, grabbing at your hips as he traces his tongue down the centre of your breasts to just above your navel.
You want him to go further, resisting the want to buck your hips towards him to will him to go on. He draws his head back, his hands still resting on your hips.
He shifts his gaze down, watching his own movements as his fingers move across your lower abdomen, combing through the curls that lead him down.
âIs this okay?â He asks.
You nod. Gods, itâs more than okay. Youâve been waiting for him to touch you for the last ⌠how long? Youâve lost all sense of time. All you know is youâre needy for him.
His tips of his fingers travel further, stilling as they reach the beginning of your slit. He lifts his head, studying how your face contorts in pleasure as he moves his fingers again, pressing one of them against your clit.
He pushes his finger down further towards your entrance, feeling how wet you are there. He smiles at this, satisfied knowing how turned on you are for him. He drags his finger back through, now wet with your slick, using it to draw an irritatingly weak circle around your clit. You try to push your hips further forward for more pressure, but the hand that remains on your hip prevents you from doing so.
Your breath staccatos as he pays not nearly enough attention to your throbbing clit. You moan at the loss of contact when he removes his hand from your cunt altogether, spinning you around so your back, and ass, face him. He almost pushes you over as he grabs handfuls of your behind, spreading your cheeks apart to really get a good look at you.
All you need is just a little push, a minute or so of strong, steady work on your pussy to send you over the edge. Heâs intent on making you wait though. Itâs cruel, you think. He knows what heâs doing to you - heâs fucking felt it. Itâs sadistic. Making you wait. Teasing you.
He kneads your ass, his thumbs dipping into the space between your cheeks, so close to where you need him but never quite reaching there. Itâs torturous. You know if you push your rear out against him, itâll probably result in a longer wait before he properly pays you the attention you desperately crave. And so you stay just as you are, letting him manipulate your flesh as he so pleases. You can wait, you tell yourself.
Suddenly, he takes one of his hands away, using it to place a hard smack against your ass. You cry out as you feel heat rising where heâs slapping you. It stings and youâre surprised you like it. He watches your body shake, eagerly awaiting more. You clench around nothing as he lands another one. And another. He huffs a laugh, seeing how your body jolts at every strike, continuing to land a few more as he pleases.
He seems satisfied with his work on your behind, raising his hands to your hips once again. He places a soft kiss on your burning skin and then youâre being hurled backwards, landing on his lap.
He immediately starts attacking your neck with tongue and teeth, hands roaming around your stomach to pull you into a comfortable position on him. He then uses them to pull your legs over both of his, spreading them to give himself access to your body.
And he makes sure he makes the most of it. He grabs your tits, letting your head roll onto his shoulder as he continues his assault on your neck. You feel your skin going tender as he sucks harsh spots against the delicate flesh there. You feel the irritation there as his rough beard scratches your skin, with the potential to leave your skin marred.
âDo you want me to touch you?â He whispers between sloppy kisses.
âGods, please.â You moan in response.
âWhere?â He grabs your hand, placing it over his and pressing firmly, letting you guide him wherever you want him. You take his hand down, letting it hover over your trembling cunt. He nips at your jaw. âI thought so.â
He repeats his motion from earlier, pressing a single finger against your clit, but instead of only dipping down to your entrance, he opts to slide an entire finger into you down to his knuckle. Your back tries to arch away from him, but he keeps you locked down against his chest with his spare arm.
He pumps the finger in and out of you, making the most obscene squelching sound from the warm wetness he uses to ease the movements of his digit. Your arms lay useless at the side of you, letting him do all the work to pleasure you.
He adds another finger, scissoring the two of them inside you, stretching you open as he brings his thumb down onto your clit. To go from one lone finger to this makes you cry out, hips spasming from the shock. You canât help moaning with how he works your pussy, curling his fingers to hit a spot deep inside you that makes you feel dizzy.
âIf you keep being so loud people are going to hear you.â He warns.
âMaybe I would like that.â You retort, bucking your hips as far as you can with him restricting your bodyâs movements.
You feel his cock twitch against you as he snarls into your ear. âSuch a filthy girl.â One of his hands begins snaking its way towards your throat, grabbing at it harshly to cut off any noise that tries to escape your mouth. âBut as much as I like hearing your pretty sounds, I need you to be quiet.â
The moans get trapped in your throat, and you canât warn him of your oncoming orgasm. It starts creeping up on you, burning low in the pit of your stomach as his hands work to push you further and further. You hit at the hand on your neck, trying to get him to let you go.
He loosens his grip but the fingers inside you work faster to make you cum. âWhat is the matter?â
âClose.â Is all you say, the oxygen able to reach your brain again momentarily before he constricts around your neck again.
He nods into your shoulder, kissing you there as he pumps, nudging your clit with his thumb as he does so. The way you make the smallest noises that he feels trying to escape beneath his fingers makes him groan. Youâre making him so fucking hard. Your pussy clamps down around his fingers, preparing for your climax when he slows his movements down entirely, sending you spinning away from coming. He removes his fingers from you, bringing them to trace small wet circles around your nipples, as his other hand eases its grip on your throat.
It takes you completely by surprise, only seconds away from finishing when he rips it all away from you. Youâre breathless, asking him why he stopped. âI didn't cum.â You tell him.
âNo, I know.â He laughs the deepest, filthiest laugh you think youâve ever heard in your ear. âYouâre not coming yet. I want you wetter before I make you cum on my cock.â
The words hit deep inside you, making you clench on instinct. So this is what he wants to do? Prepare you to take him. Or maybe he just likes seeing you squirm and fidget on his lap, completely in control of your body.
Either way, itâs doing wonders to keep you wanting him.
He slowly drops his hand back down, bringing the same two fingers into your warm heat. He leaves your clit alone, focusing all his attention on dragging the rough pads of his fingers against the sweet spot inside you. He curls them, hitting just where you need him to every single time. Itâs bliss and before long your walls start fluttering, a sign of your peak.
He feels it. He feels how your pussy starts spasming around his fingers, clenching the very tips of them as he pushes them so fucking deep into you. He loves this. Getting to push you further and further. He wants you begging for him to let you cum. Begging for him to fuck you and let you cum all over him. He wonders how many times he can edge you before he gives in to your sweet little cries and pleading eyes.
Both of you knew it wouldnât take long for your high to burn back up as quickly as it diminished. It makes you crazed, letting your loud moans fill the hall with nothing around your neck to stop them getting out. He works faster, now knowing how you respond to being so close, pushing his fingers into your opening and using his other hand to absentmindedly play with your tits.
He knows now how to work you up unbearably quick and strip it all away before you're pushed too far - and itâs exactly what he does. As you're sent hurtling forwards towards your high once again, he takes away his fingers, leaving you edged again.
You slump back against him and let your head rest on his shoulder, already exhausted from the whiplash of pleasure and it being stripped away before itâs able to consume you.
He rolls your head towards him, pressing his lips against your forehead. âYouâre doing so well.â He praises. He rubs your thighs, waiting for the right time to start playing with your cunt again. Itâs surprisingly soothing.
He waits for your breath to become steady and for your body to cool down. Youâre worked up beyond belief
Your bodyâs covered in a cold sweat, worn out from all the edging heâs putting you through. You donât even know how much more of this you can take. How much more you can tolerate before you take matters into your own hands, giving yourself your own release. It sounds good, but truthfully? Waiting it out for the prospect of being fucked by him? Gods, it sounds a thousand times better. You canât see it but you can just feel how big he is, his cock pressing hard into your back. You want to feel it stretching you, filling you in a way his fingers fail to achieve.
He decides you must be ready, because he takes two fingers to rub against your clit. Your hips buck up, the nerves in your clit overworked and yet desperate to chase any contact to give them release. Your moans come out frantically, whimpering in your slumped position lying against him as his hot breath fans over your face.
His fingers work around your bud with ease, using the excessive slick youâre producing to slip through your folds. He loves this, watching how your body looks, so worked up. Youâre shining with sweat, an icy sheen over your entire body, coating your chest, your legs. Beautiful.
Youâre so sensitive and you havenât even cum. You writhe in his lap, waiting for the moment you feel yourself about to peak and trying to prepare for the eventual fall away from it. You know itâs going to happen. He told you he wants to fuck you through your orgasm, so you know youâre about to be denied three times in a row.
You feel it, again. Your clit becoming more and more needy as his fingertips swirl around it. Your back starts to arch, preparing for a climax thatâs not going to happen. You push his hand away on instinct, already accustomed to being denied your high. The quick movement of your hand takes you both by surprise.
You keep a firm grip as your fingers lock around his hand, keeping it held hovered above your pussy. Your eyes flutter closed. You know you canât take another round of this ⌠whatever it is. Fucking torture.
âYou learn fast.â He remarks, watching your chest rise and fall rapidly, your orgasm slipping away from you for the third time.
âPlease, let me cum.â You plead with him.
âHere, get up.â He helps you to your feet as you stand on weak, shaking legs.
You get up, feeling just how wet you are at the apex of your thighs as they press together for the first time since he pulled you onto his lap. They move together, sticky, as you pad around to face him.
Heâs spread out across the chair, just as he was earlier when you saw him. The only difference is the huge bulge in his trousers, and the wet spot - evidence of the messiness between your legs.
He dips his hand below the loose waistband of his trousers, pumping himself without you being able to fully see. With his other hand he pulls you by your hips onto his lap, facing him this time. You place your knees in the free space left on the throne on either side of his legs. You reach your hand to meet his in his trousers and feel how big he is for yourself.
Your hand can barely wrap around his girth. You give him a hard tug, making him grunt. Itâs like music to your ears. Finally getting to hear the noises he makes, instead of him pulling the sounds out of you as he denies you. He twitches in your hand as you free him from the confines of his trousers.
And if you couldnât feel it in your hand, you fucking see it. Heâs huge. You bite your lip, anticipating the difficulty youâre going to have letting him fuck you. You donât think youâve ever seen anyone this big before, let alone let them inside you.
You look up at him, seeing how smug he looks knowing youâre gobsmacked. He knows heâs impressive. Just knows youâve never seen a cock that big. He probably knows youâre going to find it hard to take, too.
So youâre determined to take it. And youâre so fucking ready to cum. You need it.
You rise up on your knees, lining him up with your entrance. You're wet enough, but even the nudge of his head against your opening makes your mouth fall open. He pulses in your hand as you stay there, trying to let your cunt adjust to the intrusion.
The way he stretches your tight hole makes it sting. But you canât help but think it feels fucking amazing - he fills you so well as you sink down onto him. A different kind of pain and pleasure mixture than when his big, warm hands were caressing your shoulders and chest, earlier. Itâs not warm and soft like that, itâs blazing hot and fiery, perfect around him as he throbs.
Your hands find their way back onto his chest, confident that he wonât slip out of you by accident. You move up and down on just the top half of his length, taking yourself further down with every jolt of your hips.
The hands on your hips still you as you move down on him. âDo you want me deeper?â He pushes his hips up, nudging his cock further into you by a mere fraction. âTell me, is that what you want? You need me to fill you?â
Fucking of course itâs what you want, you want to feel him all the way inside you. You want to be able to feel him when you walk tomorrow. Youâre just nervous at having to take all of him. âYes, just go slow.â
He stays holding your hips, lifting his hips up to push into you. He loves watching it. Loves how it feels. How your tight heat clenches around him as he pushes into you. He takes it slow, like you asked, gently lowering you back onto him a little as he watches himself move inside you. Youâre almost there and he thrusts the rest of the way into you, burying himself to the hilt.
You mewl, completely filled by him now. You roll your hips against him, feeling every time his head moves against your walls and nudges against your cervix.
âF-Fuck. Bjorn -â you begin.
He feels your thighs clenching on either side of him, a sign that youâre about to cum. âDo it.â He says. âCum for me.â
The relief washes over you just as your orgasm does. Your body jolts forward, unable to hold yourself up anymore. You cum hard. So hard. He feels his cock get flooded with more of your arousal as you squeeze him with the flexing muscles in your cunt. Your eyes roll back as you hold yourself against him for security, clutching onto him hoping to ground yourself against something.
He keeps moving his hips against your writhing ones, dragging his cock inside you. It makes you scream. The sound gets muffled against his clothed chest as you crumple into a spent heap on him.
You feel more than hear the guttural moans that escape Bjorn as he feels you coming undone so hard on his lap. The sounds reverberate in his chest underneath you and he holds you close to him. You nuzzle into his chest, letting him take over the movement to chase his peak now that youâve reached yours.
He meets virtually no resistance from your cunt now, easing in and out with your slick and the slackness that came with your orgasm. He thrusts a few times before starting to hammer into you with zero remorse.
You try to thrash out, but heâs holding you so tight against his chest that thereâs nowhere for you to go.
âYou didnât think I was only going to let you cum once, did you?â He growls into your ear. âYou worked so hard, you deserve one more.â
Your arms are trapped under the weight of your upper body, all of which is held flush against him as his arms wrap around you. He holds you in place as he brutally fucks up into you, his skin slapping against yours and making the filthiest smacking noises that echo around the empty room.
You relax against him, feeling every inch he buries into you and letting yourself be carried away by the euphoric way heâs making you feel. You swear, no oneâs ever made you feel like this.
He notices the way you go slightly limp against him, using the opportunity to keep one arm around you and wedging the other between the two of you. Thereâs just enough room for him to reach his middle finger up to stroke over your clit in perfect time with his thrusts.
Thereâs no sound that escapes your mouth when you open it to cry out. Only a hoarse, throaty moan that gets caught somewhere. Tears form at the corners of your eyes as you feel another peak approaching. Itâs debilitating. Your cunt's been teased so many times and then allowed to cum, itâs as if it doesnât know how to deal with the oncoming climax. You clench, drawing higher and higher and higher, waiting to be dropped down to your pleasure.
When you cum, itâs even more brutal than the time before. He has no consideration for your spasming body as his pace never falters, only becoming even easier for him to fuck you now with two orgasms worth of your cum to guide him.
You cry his name out, begging him to cum soon. You donât know how much more of his savage, relentless thrusts you can take.
âP-perfect. So good.â He replies, losing himself in chasing his high. He can feel himself getting closer. And the way your pussy gets so wet and how you clench so hard around him. Gods, heâs surprised he didnât cum with you. He has always prided himself on his ability to last, though. âW-wonât - fuck - wonât be long. Want to cum in this cunt.â
Fucking please, you think. You want to feel him fill you in the only way he hasnât yet.
His movements begin to falter ever-so-slightly, so you know he means it when he says heâs close. He tries to get a few more good, deep thrusts into you before he cums. He lasts for maybe five or six more.
Everything about him is big and excessive. Big hands, broad shoulders, big cock. And even his fucking load is huge. He pushes into you as he spurts his cum, feeling it drip down his cock and drilling it back into you as he tries to keep fucking you while he cums.
He sounds so good moaning in your ear, louder than heâs been moaning this entire time. The noises he makes are gorgeous - low, husky groans right next to you.
He drops his hips down, but even still half his length is still buried inside you. You feel his cum leak out of you, probably mixed with some of your own wetness. And he, in turn, feels it run down his cock, dripping down onto his balls.
Youâre both left breathless and completely exhausted. He rests on the chair, one of his arms still haphazardly thrown around you, the other hanging over the arm of the throne. You lie on top of him, still curling your upper body to huddle into the warmth of his chest.
He clears his throat. âI must confess something." He begins. You lift your head up slightly to look at him. The sweat gleams on his forehead, dripping down from his temples. "I have heard the demands of the Gods. And they demand a queen for Kattegat.â
Your eyes go wide, not that he can see.
âSo,â he sweeps the hand on your back upwards, coming to hold your face as he asks you one final question. âHow would you like to be Queen?â
#Bjorn ironside x reader#Bjorn ironside x you#Bjorn x reader#Bjorn x you#Bjorn ironside#smut#Bjorn fanfiction#vikings fanfiction
1K notes
¡
View notes
Text
To End Up With You
Emily has a job interview and is nervous. Aaron helps her through it.
-x-
For @ssamorganhotchner, who deserves all the good things because she is so incredibly lovely. Here's some very caring Hotch for you <3
I hope you like this bestie!
p.s. Lina said this doesn't count as a fluff apology for yesterday, because it's "Morgan's fluff" so...apparently I still owe the rest of you ;)
-x-
Warnings: None
Words: 2k
Read over on Ao3, or below the cut
âYouâre stressed.âÂ
She sighs, coming to a stop in front of him. Sometimes, it really sucked that he was once a profiler too.Â
Emily turns sharply to look at her husband, her eyebrows drawing together as she frowns at him. âOf course Iâm stressed, Aaron,â she continues her pacing in front of the couch where he was sitting, twirling her wedding rings around her finger in a futile attempt to stop herself from tearing her cuticles to shreds. âItâs a job interview.âÂ
Section Chief. She was finally going for Section Chief after years in the field, the change of pace more desirable than it had ever been. The BAU was her family, the first place she had truly been able to call home before she found one here, with Aaron, but it was time to move on, to take a step away and let someone else step up to the plate. To find the end in this beginning, the path she had started walking so long ago.Â
When Aaron first called her when he returned to DC, she was furious. Anger that she hadnât expected flooded her veins as she demanded to know why he had left it until now to call, why he had been away for so long. Sheâd missed him far more than she thought she would, more than she would allow herself to show anyone. Their friendship had always been between the two of them, a secret that could have developed into more. They had missed each other so many times, moments that they should have taken, that she had spent so long worried theyâd never get to where they are now.Â
Somehow, with no small amount of work from the two of them, they made it. They were married. Lived in a home they had chosen together, a room for Jack that he visited when he was back from college.Â
It was the life sheâd always dreamed of, but never allowed herself to believe could be real.Â
âIt wonât be as bad as youâre thinking it will be,â he assures her, and she scoffs slightly, picking at her thumb.Â
âHow do you know that, Aaron? They could ask me anything.âÂ
âYouâre acting like youâve never had a job interview.â He says, and he reacts, momentarily, just a flash of something across her face, through her body, but itâs enough for him to notice. âWait, you have had a job interview before, right sweetheart?âÂ
She closes her eyes and sighs, shaking her head at him to confirm his suspicion.Â
âHow?â He asks, and when she opens her eyes to look at him his eyes are full of confusion, and she groans, rolling her eyes at him.Â
âItâs not like Interpol sits you in front of a panel and asks you about where you see yourself in five years. And the BAU kind of justâŚhappened the first time around,â she flashes a tight smile at him, the memory of their very rocky start a fond one, the years that had passed allowing her to look back on it with rose-tinted glasses, âThen Clyde asked me to go back to Interpol, and I came back here because you asked me to when you and Jack had to go into hiding.âÂ
âDid I ever thank you for that by the way?â He asks, and the smile on his face lets her know itâs his attempt to calm her down, to stop the spiral he had accidentally started her on. She smiles at him despite herself, her eyebrow raised.Â
âYou have,â she teases, âYou could always thank me again though.âÂ
âLater,â he promises, a tone to his voice that never failed to make her stomach flip, before he becomes curious again, âwhat about your first ever job?âÂ
âI was a waitress, and the owner of the place was a perv, all I had to do was walk in with a low-cut shirt on and the job was mine.âÂ
âWerenât you 16 when you had that job?âÂ
âAaron,â she says, her tone firm, âfocus,â she finally sits next to him on the couch, barely any space between them as he reaches out for her hand and links their fingers together, âWe donât have time to fix the patriarchy today.âÂ
âSorry, Em,â he says, lifting her hand to kiss her knuckles, âcan I help?âÂ
She groans, pressing her temple against his shoulder as she continues to stare ahead, aware only of the way he was tracing his thumb over her knuckles. Always lingering at her rings for a second longer than anywhere else, as if he also still couldnât believe this is where they had ended up after all this time.Â
âYou could go for me?â She offers weakly, and it makes him laugh before he drops a kiss on the top of her head.Â
âI know Dave always says weâre turning into each other,â he replies, kissing her head again, âbut I think that would be a stretch.âÂ
âSpoilsport,â she mumbles, smiling as he pulls her closer, putting his arm around her so he could run his hand up and down her arm.Â
âYouâll be great, sweetheart,â he assures her, sounding far more confident in her abilities than she did, âtheyâd be fools not to give you that job.âÂ
She looks up at him, âYou have to say that, youâre my husband.âÂ
He tucks some of her hair behind her ear, grey now that she had let it grow out completely. Sheâd been worried at first, a small part of her wondering what he would make of it, but Aaron loved it just as much as she loved the salt and pepper flecks throughout his hair.Â
âI also used to be your boss, I know exactly what youâre capable of,â he says, reaching for her hand and stopping her from picking at her thumb again, soothing the sore skin with his own.Â
âI should get going,â she says, smiling tightly at him as she leans forward to stamp a kiss against his lips, âI donât want to be late.âÂ
âYouâll be great,â He says again, squeezing her hand as she stands, wiping non-existent lint from her slacks as she does.Â
âJust think,â she says, an attempt at lightness that the fierce beating of her heart in her chest battles with, âif I get the job, Iâll officially outrank where you got to before you retired.âÂ
âYeah, I love you too, sweetheart,â he deadpans, making her laugh as she gathers her things, leaving the house with plenty of time to spare.
___
The last bit of tension leaves her body, her shoulders relaxing, as she walks through the front door. The scent of home, of him washing over her, a familiar wave of comfort sheâd happily drown in.Â
Sheâs just getting her second boot off, leaning on the wall with one hand to keep her balance, when she sees him come into view, a large glass of red wine in hand.
âHi sweetheart,â he says, kissing her cheek, and then on the lips once she straightens up, âhow did it go?âÂ
She blows out a breath as she takes the glass of wine from him, âOk, I think?â She grimaces slightly and turns her nose up. âHonestly, I have no idea. Itâs so hard to hell.âÂ
âIâm sure you did great,â he replies, kissing her again, smiling at her as he pulls back, âDinner will be about 30 minutes, and Iâve run you a bath,â he stamps a kiss against her lips, âit should be hot enough still to take off a layer of skin, just like you like it.âÂ
She beams at him, âYou really are the best.âÂ
âGo have your bath, Iâll be down here when youâre done.â
She does as sheâs told, shedding her clothes the second sheâs in their bedroom, leaving them strewn across the floor sheâs sure he will comment on later. As she opens the adjoining bathroom door sheâs hit with steam and the smell of lavender and chamomile. The last of her earlier stress melts away as she sinks into the hot water, hissing slightly at the pleasant burn on her skin.Â
She sighs as she relaxes in the water, sipping her wine in silence as she soaks in the comfort Aaron had created for her. It was one of the many ways he would show his love, through action. Whether it was something like this, or something much simpler like her favourite coffee pressed into her hand as she left for work in the morning. He always woke up before her, even though he was retired.Â
Her allotted time goes by quickly, Aaron letting her know dinner was almost ready by yelling up the stairs. She climbs out of the bath and dries off, pulling on an old shirt of his and some sleep shorts before she heads downstairs.Â
âI needed that,â she says when she sees him, wrapping her arms around his waist as he places the final dish on the dining table, âthank you.âÂ
He wraps his arm around her, âYou donât have to thank me,â he kisses the side of her head, âI made your favourite.âÂ
She moans as she breathes in the scent of the food, âYouâre really doing your best to get lucky tonight.â
âIâm always lucky when Iâm with you.âÂ
Emily laughs, the sound catching in her nose almost like a snort as she looks up at him, rolling her eyes as she steps away to sit down at the table.Â
âYouâre ridiculous.â
âYet you love me anyway,â he says, taking the seat next to her, wrapping his hand around hers as they settle down to eat.Â
âI really do.â
___
After they have eaten they curl up together on the couch, under the blanket they keep thrown over the back of it specifically for moments like this. Neither of them is watching the movie theyâve put on, something they have both seen countless times purely being used for background noise. She has his left hand in between both of hers, mindlessly measuring its size, fingers idly playing with his wedding ring, twisting it on his finger.Â
âDo you know why I was so nervous earlier?â She asks, not realising she was going to say it until she was speaking, shifting just enough to look at him. âWhy I want the job so much?â He shakes his head, despite the fact sheâs sure he has some idea. Theyâd always been so in tune with each other. âI want the progression, to have a new challenge. But itâs also because of you.âÂ
His eyebrows crease and he begins to protest immediately, âEm-â
âNot because I think you want me to,â she assures him, disentangling her hand from his to cup his cheek, her thumb scratching at the stubble he let grow occasionally, knowing she enjoyed it, âBut because it feels right,â she smiles at him, âI want more time with you, for us. Weâve both wasted so much time already.âÂ
Aaron looks at her adoringly, âYou know Iâll always make time for you, sweetheart, no matter what.âÂ
âI know,â she replies, kissing the slope of his jaw, âand itâs about time I did the same for you.âÂ
He simply smiles at her, knowing there is nothing else that can be said, that, just like since they met, they didnât necessarily need words to know what the other was thinking.
âSo,â he asks, encouraging her to rest against him again, âwho are you going to suggest for your replacement? JJ?âÂ
She groans at him, âDonât jink it.â
âYou donât believe in jinxes,â he says simply, an edge of amusement in his voice, âyou just donât want to choose between them.âÂ
She grumbles as she turns her face into his chest.
âFucking profilers.âÂ
___
When she finds out she gets the job, heâs the first person she calls, just like he was whenever she had news - good or bad.Â
He tells her heâs proud of her, and sheâs almost just as proud of herself for not crying in her office when he says it.Â
When she gets home that night, heâs bought champagne, and sheâs never felt luckier.Â
-x-
Tag list:
@ssa-sparks, @lukeclvez, @lyds102, @glockleveledatyourcrotch, @hotchnissenthusiast, @danadeservesadrink, @ssamorganhotchner, @emilyprentissisgod, @notagentprentiss, @freesiasandfics, @emilyshotchniss, @thecharmingart, @paulitalblond, @hancydrewfan, @camille093, @whitecrossgirl, @moonlight-2-6, @rawr-jess, @florenceremingtonthethird, @jareauswife, @ms-black-a, @sneetchestoo, @aubreyprc, @zipzapboingg, @psychopath-at-heart, @criminalmindsgonewrong, @fionaloover, @kinqslcys, @prentissinred, @ccmattis22, @denvivale317, @thrindis, @hotchsguccitie, @cmfouatslota77
Join my tag list here!
#hotchniss#hotchniss fanfiction#hotchniss fanfic#aaron hotchner#emily prentiss#emily prentiss fanfiction#aaron hotchner fanfiction#hotchniss fan fic#aaron hotchner x emily prentiss
36 notes
¡
View notes
Text
Subject: RAPTOR
Nomu!Hawks x Reader (NSFW)
This GIANT is the lovechild of this amazing fanart and this ask:
I twisted the shizznit out of that ask, but the inspiration is still there. A thank you to anyone who makes it through this very long ride.
This fic does takes some liberties in the creation of nomu. Some factors will deviate from canon.
Words: 20k+
You can also read this long-ass story on AO3 if thatâs more comfortable.
Heed these warnings: Blood and Death, Teratophilia/Monster-Fucking, Breeding, Mutant Genitalia, Unethical Experimentation, Mutilation, lots of handjobs and cum, LOTS of long tongue action and Iâm ashamed, Brief Suicide Ideation, and Shitty Science
âââxâââ
Fertile nomu were the greatest breakthrough that the villains could ever hope for. Breeding saves so much time and resources, as opposed to artificially creating each specimen from scratch. There were two major âprogramsâ, as these sick bastards insist on calling them.Â
The Mating Program, where the nomu were paired together, one with male sexual organs and the other with those of a female, though there was also the occasional subject that managed to possess both. It was an unpredictable process; miscarriages were common, sometimes the offspring dies minutes after birth, or the fetus develops too rapidly inside the womb and the birth becomes a violent bursting out of the parentâs body. Weaker nomu, usually the ones incapable of rapid regeneration, have been killed from such incidents. âWhat a waste,â those bastards in lab coats would say.
And then there was the Milking Program, in which semen was collected to later be frozen or artificially inserted into âother creaturesâ. Yeah, they say it as if ninety percent of those creatures werenât humans.
You were an unwilling member of the latter program, but the assholes sure did love making it sound like they were doing you a favor.
âThis entire precinct is yours,â they said. âYour very own farm of all-powerful beasts!â
Gee, thanks. Just what you always wanted, to jerk off abominations and collect their cum. To be fair, it could be worse. At least you werenât one of the unlucky ones being impregnated. Your possession of a quirk, albeit a mostly useless one, probably saved you from that fate. Those without a quirk had a higher chance of passing down all of the Nomuâs abilities. Just another addition to the long list of Why Being Quirkless Fucking Sucks.
The weaker and simpler nomu arenât an issue. A sort of imprinting drives them to obey your every command. Hell, jerking them off isnât even needed â you can literally just order them to ejaculate, and the damn things are spewing out their putrid seed before you can even prepare your containers.
The most troublesome part of your âjobâ was the High Ends. They are powerful, sentient, and God help you, have an actual sex drive. They were obedient to an extent, but you canât hold complete control over something that was specifically designed for independent thinking. You were responsible for only five of these advanced nomu, and that was too many. The touchy bastards always wanted more than just a handjob, vocalizing their lust through distorted throats. The long, beastly groans of âinsideâ and âgive pussyâ echoed in your head throughout the day and into the night.
These things can literally pound you into mush, and the very thought of carrying their horrifying children makes your throat burn with rising bile. You donât believe itâs worth risking your life just to please their monster dicks.
That was all before they introduced you to a new âpetâ. You stood in the hallway of your assigned area of the old hospital and watched two approaching figures. Ugh, another damn High End to make things more difficult, but this one made your heart skip a beat.Â
Most of the creatureâs body was a solid black, just like the rest within its tier. It was more slender than the others, upper body leaning forward with the support of long legs with joints that reminded you of a bird. Both its hands and feet were covered in scales and ended in large talons. A grand pair of ebony wings were folded behind its back, and a muscular feathered tail swayed with its movements. Overall, its appearance was a mixture of avian and reptilian.
The feathery wings were a huge hint, but absolute certainty struck you when you made eye contact, gold-filled eyes with a bird-like slant on a face that still managed to stay youthful after so many alterations to its body. You listened in on the villainsâ conversations whenever they were around. With no access to any kind of media in this place, it was the only way to stay up-to-date with everything happening outside of these cursed labs. You remember hearing about their latest victory, how they managed to overpower and kill the number two hero of Japan, dreadful news that you refused to believe. But the beast that was eyeing you curiously gave you no choice but to accept the truth.
Hawks has become their newest nomu.
The doctor accompanying him smiled proudly, commanding the monster to take your side. You gulped and tried not to flinch in his presence; you were always extra tense around new additions that didnât know you yet. âHawks is dead,â the doctor said calmly. âSay hello to our latest work: Raptor.â
You think youâd rather stick with âHawksâ. The doctor doesnât wait for a response before continuing. âWe expect samples from this one daily.â
The shocking demand has you speaking before you can stop yourself. âWhy?â
The manâs impassive eyes darkened and you shrink back, considering an apology but deciding that it was best to just keep your mouth shut. Prisoners like you followed a set of rules, the most important one being âNo Questionsâ. Theyâll feed you to the very beasts entrusted in your care without batting an eye.
Lucky for you, this man was willing to give you a pass. âAnalysis, fertilization, storage for future plansâŚmany matters that donât concern you. Expect me every morning to take it in for testing. Until then, get it settled and collect the first sample.â
You shuddered, sneaking a glance at Hawks, who was busy looking up at the occasional flicker of the ceiling light. It was careless to underestimate how observant the High Ends were, but this is the first time youâve seen one so openly curious. Normally they would just absently stare at nothing when left idle.
Only when the doctor turned to leave did you finally give the newcomer your full attention. âHawks?â
He continued to watch the blinking bulbs with great interest.
âUmâŚRaptor?â
You nearly jumped from how quickly his entire body turned toward you, completely still and waiting for whatever instructions came next.
You scratched at your head nervously. âRight, I guess that really is your name now. Well, come with me.â
He followed you down the old hall and past the rooms where others of his kind rested, talons tapping against the tiles with each step.
 x---x---x---x---xÂ
Raptorâs exposed frontal lobe throbs.
He doesnât remember anything before his awakening in that cold and wet chamber. Was there anything before? Had he just been born?
PerhapsâŚbut it just didnât feel right.
x---x---x---x---x
 Like all the other nomu, Hawksâs private space was nothing more than an emptied patient room. Their loyalty was the only thing keeping them from breaking down the old doors or tearing through the worn walls. Every minute spent alone with these superhumans was a gamble with your life.
But again, the newcomers make you extra nervous.
You stood at the door while Hawks examined his new home. He sniffed and pawed at every nook and cranny like an animal in unfamiliar surroundings, straightening his flexible spine to touch the ceiling before lowering himself on all fours. He seemed just as comfortable crawling as he was with walking; you can only imagine how incredible his agility has become. The beloved wing hero was best known for his swiftness in defeating and subduing villains, and it looks like the mad scientists sought to maximize his talents. The average nomu was built to be an indestructible powerhouse. Hawks was built to be an even more efficient predator than he already was.
As much as you didnât want to interrupt him, you had a job to do. âRaptorâŚâ
His head whipped around to pin you with a sharp stare, molten yellow slits revealing the red irises that only appear when focused. You tensed, but he made no further movements.
You cleared your throat and took a deep breath. Nomu respond best to a confident and assertive voice. âJust relax and stay still. Itâs time for me to collect some sperm, if you even know what that means.â You grab the jar that you had already prepared in the corner.
He shook his wings and soft mane of hair, leaving his head a poofy mess. Well that wasâŚcute. You approached him before setting the container back down and reaching for the pathetic rags they called shorts. Itâs beyond ridiculous how these sadistic doctors are willing to completely violate and alter a personâs corpse, yet they force the abominations to keep their junk covered as some form of decency.
A low rumble vibrated from his chest as you dropped to your knees and pulled down his only article of clothing, allowing the not quite human-looking cock to spring free â a thick base with a curved shaft decorated with scale-like ridges on the top and bottom, then tapering to an arrow-like head, twitching and growing each second. Youâve seen stranger dicks, but it still catches you by surprise. Was Hawksâs dick always like this?
Is that a distasteful question? He is technically dead.
The moment your hand made contact, a loud hiss rushed past his teeth and he stepped back, wings flapping as he backed away until he hit the wall.
âCalm down.â His reaction startled you, but your voice remained steady. He wasnât showing any signs of aggression, his widened eyes and timid posture gave the impression that he was just caught off-guard. âCalm,â you repeated more softly.
A few seconds pass while his breaths slow and he stands straight again to give you access to his fully hardened cock.
You try to move more slowly, at first running just your fingertips along his length to ease him into the feeling. You smiled at the sight of his face relaxing; he was surprisingly expressive. âSee? Itâs not so bad, is it?â
His mouth opened to give you a glimpse of sharp teeth that could easily shred your flesh, but the only sounds that come out are several choked peeps. He winces and brings a clawed hand to his throat.
âCanât talk yet, huh? Donât worry, it usually takes a few days for you guys.â You closed your fingers around his shaft in a firm grip and began to stroke him.
The soft purrs must mean that he has fully given in. He thankfully hasnât made any grabs at you yet; only staring down and watching you explore every inch of his pitch-black meat, taking his leaking pre-cum and smearing it all over for lubrication.
His wings shiver and his tail begins to swing wildlyâyou flinch at each loud thud whenever the powerful limb whacks the wall or slams into the floor. You briefly wonder if the feathers on his tail are capable of becoming sharp blades like the ones on his wings.
The purrs become low growls as he begins to bend over your kneeling form, muscular thighs quivering around you. His cock was twitching under your quickening pace, notifying you that it was time to grab the jar and get ready. âNo need to hold back. Go ahead and cum.â
He obeyed with a high screech and two sets of talons seized your shoulders, tearing through cloth and digging into your skin. You yelped, but didnât halt your milking of his cock, ensuring each spurt of cum landed inside the container. Blood can be felt trickling down your arms, his grip on the verge of crushing bone until he finally lets go after his final spasm. You release the breath you didnât even know you were holding as you sealed the jar and stood up. âGood, now rest,â you said through clenched teeth and turned to leave.
A distorted chirp is heard behind you; you twisted your head to see Hawks rushing forward, and your heart jumps into your throat. Fuck, what did you do? Did turning your back excite him? Running wasnât a smart option at this point. You held the fresh warm sample close to you as you shut your eyes and braced for whatever the nomu had planned.
But when he was close enough for you to feel his hot breath against your back, nothing happened. Then there were fingers, the same fingers that pierced your flesh with their hooked claws, lightly tracing over the bleeding wounds. It was a touch that was way too gentle for a monster created to kill.
You heard the choked sounds again, and you take a look at his face as he strains to form a word, eventually giving up and mouthing it instead. What you read from his lips was something that hasnât been said to you during your entire time in this hellish hospital.
âSorry.â
He retreats to a corner and curls up his entire body like an animal sleeping in the cold.
You felt like the one unable to speak now, mouth opening and closing in search of a response. Eventually you were able to collect yourself. âItâs alrightâŚI guess. Not the first time one of you has handled me roughly. First time one of you showed any regret, thoughâŚitâs honestly really freaking me out.â You giggle uncomfortably and decide that you need to hurry up and treat yourself before the scratches get infected. âRest,â you make sure to command before rushing out of the door.
The restroom held a shabby but functional shower that will rid you of the blood, and the workers were at least generous enough to give you the bare minimum of first-aid along with extra gowns. A couple excruciating dabs of alcohol on the open wounds should clean them up just fine.
Youâll have to think about Hawksâs odd behavior later. You still had other nomu to tend to.
 x---x---x---x---x
Subject: Raptor
Field Test
Quirk #1: Fierce Wings
Notes: As the hostâs original quirk, we donât expect Raptor to experience any difficulties with Fierce Wings. It should serve more as a refresher for his memory. With a brain more advanced than any other nomu so far, he should still be quick in attacking and reacting. His slightly enlarged wings will allow for greater endurance during flight, and of course, a bigger arsenal of feathers. The feathers on his tail are also to be tested.
The room that Raptor stood in the center of was filled with targets everywhereâsome static, some moving in fixed patterns. The humans in coats were a safe distance away and watching him closely.
âRaptor, strike the targets with your feathers.â
He didnât even have a chance to see which one gave the order before his body was already reacting. It took only seconds for him to pin the locations and time the movements of each target. In a flash, black sharpened feathers darted in multiple directions and pierced every mark in the room.
He didnât care about impressing the Coats, but he still released a pleased hum after hearing his entire audience gasp. The whole situation felt familiar for some reason. Completing such a test felt so natural to him, he could probably do it blindfolded.
âAgain, but this time use only the feathers from your tail.â
He obeyed. With his body lowered and tail raised, it only took two seconds longer to hit each mark.
Several more tests took place. He chopped objects of different materials and varying thickness, sliced apart a combat robot while using only his tail as a blade, and showed off his speed and aerial maneuvers during a small obstacle course.
His brain pulsed painfully. He doesnât understand why taking so many commands was such a painful struggle.
He didnât mind the tests much. At least he can actually do something in these test fields, as opposed to sitting in his empty room all day. After the very pleasant time spent with you, it was nothing but hours of pacing, scratching, and grooming out of boredom.
You mentioned there being others like him in those rooms. How do they handle having absolutely nothing to do for so long?
âIts mind tends to wander, doesnât it?â
He turns to the source of the voice and finds a pair of Coats that stared at him like they were trying to probe his mind with just their eyes. The rest were scrambling about, discussing the excellence of his performance and scribbling notes.
But these two only seemed interested in watching him get lost in his thoughts. He stared back, waiting to see if they had any commands to give.
One of them only smirked as the loyal creature stood at full attention. âYes, not very hostile, either. Not only is he capable of higher levels of thinking, he is the first High End that doesnât host the body of some brutish villain. A more complex mind often comes with very human...quirks.â
Raptor blinks. They really enjoyed saying that particular word.
x---x---x---x---x
When you stepped into Hawksâs room for the second morning, you were ready to step right back out when you saw the state of it.
Claw marks everywhere, covering the walls and floor like webs embedded in the surface. Hawks was looking at you closely while stooped low to the floor, but his body appeared relaxed and not ready to lunge.
Not a single hair on you moved when you spoke. âAre you alright?â
He tilted his head at the question, releasing a puff of air through his nostrils before returning to whatever he was trying to do to the floor. He wasnât violent with his movements. The talons scraped across wide curves, long lines, other patterns with seemingly no goal in mind. Looking around at the other claw marks, you realize that none of them are the angry slashes of a beast throwing a fit. They all looked to have been drawn in a calm matter, twisting and turning into random non-specific shapes.
âRaptor, are youâŚbored?â
He paused his carving to look at you again and releases a long and drawn-out groan, throat vibrating along with the vocals. Was that a whine?
All of the High Ends had traces of their original personality, but this was on another level. It wasnât unwelcomed, however. âYou know, when the other High Ends donât have anything to do, they kinda justâŚI donât know, itâs like they put their brains on a power-saver mode. You canât do that?â
His brain responds with several strong pulses. Gross, youâre never going to get used to that pink-gray matter moving around. After what was apparently deep thought, Hawks gave a softer groan and shook his head.
You couldnât help but laugh humorlessly at this entire situation. âIncredible. Youâd think that these smartasses would know that making a creature of extraordinary intelligenceâI bet thatâs what they saidâwould mean that your big gross brain needs regular stimulation. Geniuses, my ass.â
Hawks gave a beastly snort. Seems like he agrees with you. You donât mean to sound like those insane bastards, but it truly was incredible to see a High End that showed interest in casual conversation, not just commands or any opportunity to cause destruction.
Feeling confident that he wonât maul you out of boredom, you finally approach and kneel in front of him. âSorry, thereâs not much I can do about that,â you said with genuine sympathy. âNot like I have any entertainment of my own. My room sucks too. Butââ You held up your fresh new jar. âMaybe we can kill some time together again? God, that makes me sound like a sex worker for you guys.â
You donât know if he has a sense of humor, but he clearly understands your hints and perks up. He stands so that your face is leveled with his groin, black scaly hands tugging at his shorts until a loud rip causes him to grunt in frustration. You giggle and decide to help tear the rest off. âThey were just shitty rags, anyway,â you said.
He was already growing right in front of you. Your hand wraps around him for a second time, thankful that it doesnât startle him again. He tenses for only a moment, but quickly relaxes when your stroking begins, a large pair of testes swinging freely now that there was no cloth to contain them.
âWow,â you couldnât help but gasp. âYouâre not even built as big as the other nomu, but those are still impressive. I guess youâve got plenty of samples to give, huh? Good, âcause Iâve gotta do this every damn day.â
You received a purr and a swish of his tail in response. It was a one-sided conversation, but it was still pretty refreshing. Milking the other High Ends was an uncomfortable task, one where you always had to be prepared with a loud and strong âNoâ or âStopâ whenever their excitement evolved into aggression. Every minute was tense, and despite your occasional wish for release from this shitty life, you didnât want a violent end at the hands of these sex-hungry monstrosities.
His reactions werenât too different from yesterday; he was being more vocal and less shy about physically expressing his pleasure. The massive black wings blew your hair back with each powerful beat, and his tail was thrashing about even more wildly.
His deep purrs werenât unpleasant, slowly changing into higher mewls as he got closer. âCome on, just do what you did last time.â
And so he did, delivering another fresh sample straight into your container with a warped cry. His hands lingered right over you, clenched in tight fists that surely had those sharp talons digging into his rough palms. You couldnât be sure, but it looked as if he was trying not to grab you this time. Would he really care about that without being told?
Hot, tired breaths blew into your hair as he recovered from his climax. Then, with his head reared back, he let out a yawn. You even heard a faint little whine similar to a dog escape him. It would have been pretty endearing if it werenât for just how widely his mouth was opened, displaying the scary set of teeth within. Does he really use those in combat?
With his still-dripping member going flaccid, he returned to the spot he was scratching at, lazily tracing the markings that were already made. The thought of him doing this for another ten hours or so made you frown. They probably wouldnât care if you stayed in this room a little longer than usual, would they?
Shrugging, you kneeled down again, this time resting beside him. Hawks stopped and looked at you curiously.
âSharpen one of your feathers and give it to me,â you ordered.
Almost immediately a feather appears right in front of you. You grab it, taking care not to cut your fingers on the razor-like barbs. Whenâs the last time youâve held a writing utensil? Shifting awkwardly next to the large nomu, you took the quill and began scratching lines into the floor. The hot heavy breaths and overall warmth from his close presence was hard to ignore. Youâve never been this close to a nomu for any reason that wasnât jerking them off. He remained calm, watching your hand closely until you finished drawing a small grid.
âYou know how to play tic tac toe?â
He blinked.
ââŚOkay, itâs pretty simple. You fill a space with either an âOâ or an âXââŚâ
Somehow, teaching a killer monster how to play a common childrenâs game was weirder than making him jizz. He caught on quickly, favoring Xâs. You were winning each game at first, but once he figured out all of the possible patterns, every game was ending in a draw. You drew larger grids, sometimes having both of you move to a different spot for more room. Most matches were still draws, but he will sometimes catch you by surprise and scratch a row of three Xâs that you didnât notice in time, his tail swishing out of what may have been pride or enjoyment.
After a while you decided to show him other shapes. Maybe he can experiment with them more when you were gone. Who knows, soon he might be drawing more than random lines. He wasnât bad company, to be honest. Then again, your standards have taken a nosedive ever since you winded up in this facility of unethical science. It was nice to spend time with anything that didnât want to just tear you in half with a massive cock.
Only when you felt like you overstayed your welcome and stood back up did you realize how much of a mess you both made of the floor and walls.
âOops, it looks like a bunch of kids got in here,â you said while looking at the collage of shapes and lines. Hopefully the doctors wonât find this too strange; he was pretty intelligent, after all. âWell, itâs about time I take my leave. You keep practicing your doodling skills, I guess.â With the jar of white fluid back in your arms, you headed on out, but a large hand grabs onto your arm.
Hawksâs yellow eyes were wider than usual, a scraping, guttural noise leaving his throat as he toyed with his voice.
âSssâŚ..aaayyâŚâ Just like the other High Ends, his vocals were warped and all-around unsettling, but you could hear it, traces of the playful and smooth-talking hero that you used to watch during interviews and talk shows. It was barely there, but it was still there.
âStâŚaay.â
You couldnât help the sad smile that graced your face. He was looking at you like a puppy. âSorry, but I donât know what theyâd do if they notice me staying here for too long,â you explained.
He winced from the strain of his vocal chords. âComeâŚback?â
You shook your head. âThere are cameras in the halls. I shouldnât be going in and out of your room.â You tensed under his grip, afraid that refusing him like this will anger him. He has been very docile so far, but you donât know what it takes to set him off.
Thankfully, he lets go of you and backs away with another one of those whines. For Godâs sake, were you really feeling bad about leaving one of these...things?
To be fair, in the two days youâve known him, Hawks was already much different from the others. Hell, he hasnât even shown any true signs of aggression yet. The other High Ends are always expressing some desire to attack or break something. You thought it came naturally with all of the engineering. For something that was apparently supposed to be their finest specimen yet, Hawksâs behavior wasnât fitting for his job at all. You just played tic tac fucking toe with him like two kids on a sidewalk.
Thatâs probably why you found yourself trying to reassure him. âWe can play some more tomorrow. Donât worry.â
An odd clicking noise was madeâhe sure had a variety of sounds reminiscent of birdsâand he returned to his favorite corner, hooking his talons into an empty spot on the wall to begin yet another drawing.
The slightest hint of warmth could be felt in your chest as you left him to his creative tasks. This place sucks and has deprived you of everything good in life forâŚyouâve lost track of how long. Youâll take whatever you can get to make things more bearable around here.
And if that âwhateverâ turns out to be a former top hero who was killed and resurrected into a horrid experiment, then so be it.
x---x---x---x---x
Subject: Raptor
Field Test
Quirk #2: Reptile
Notes: The Reptile quirk will make for a great upgrade to Raptorâs physical capabilities. He may possess wings, but the ability to climb almost any surface will be helpful in enclosed areas and improve his overall performances in stealth. A flexible spine allows him to comfortably be both bipedal and quadrupedal, the digitigrade legs granting him greater speed and jumps.
Also, someone needs to send in a request for a new pair of shorts for the damned thing.
There were many more instructions to follow this time. The Coats were bombarding him with one command after another.
âClimb up here.â
âSlash this with your talons.â
âCrush this with your hands. Try again with your feet.â
His head throbbed painfully as the voices took hold of his movements. They pushed his endurance to the limit when they made him run on a machine, first on his legs, then again on all fours. He was only running in place, but it was much more satisfying than pacing back and forth in that boring room.
It turns out that he can scale walls and ceilings with little effort thanks to the pads on his hands and feet. Maybe he can try drawing on the ceiling when he returns to his room. The only downside was that you wouldnât be able to sit up there with him.
The Coats observed behind the (assumed) safety of a wall of thick glass. Each one possessed a small microphone so that their voice can still be heard clearly through the speaker on his side of the room.
They always watched him with cold and calculating eyes, and only spoke to him when telling him to do something. You feared him; his feathers easily sensed your tension, unsteady breaths, and quickening heartbeats, yet you still took the time to be friendly. And what you do with those handsâŚhe wishes youâd make him feel that good all day. Yes, his room was small and boring, but it did have you.
âRaptor, to the opposite end of the room,â a Coat ordered. The sensation of being pulled by his entire head forced him to take his place at the wall, staring straight ahead at the door.
His wings twitched from a powerful approaching presence, feathers instinctively sharpening at the possible incoming threat. The door was opened by a small Coat to make way for a beast, a beast with a large powerful form and exposed brain just like him.
Vacant eyes stared straight ahead, looking right through him like it was dead on its feet.
âThis is one of Clonerâs spawn, yes?â A female Coat spoke with her mouth close to the mic. He supposes that they donât care if he hears them.
âYes. His offspring always turn out even more unstable than him. This one canât even produce a single proper clone, and no additional quirks were inherited. Itâs useless.â
âWell, at least itâll help us in its final moments.â The man leaned into his mic. âRaptor, kill the nomu. Do not use your wings.â
The woman followed up with her own order. âNomu, kill Raptor.â
Blood was suddenly rushing through his body twice as fast, the reds of his eyes appearing and locking onto the target that was already charging at him with a horrifying wail.
Kill it.
He ducked under the bigger creatureâs closing arms that would have likely trapped him into a crushing hug, causing his opponent to lose balance and fall forward. His hand shot up and dug his talons into thick flesh, slicing it from its chest all the way down to its stomach as he ran beneath. Rising from under the nomuâs legs, he turned to see his gruesome work.
Instead, he sees the blur of a fist right before it smashes into his face and sends him flying. His back colliding hard with the wall accompanied the shattering of his jaw. There was no time to wait for his vision to clear up, scrambling out of the path of the charging silhouette before it slams into the now-empty spot, the impact shaking the entire room.
The pain only intensified when his face and spine began to shift, mending itself back together while he tried his hardest to keep his eye on the much more violent beast. A ghoulish moan was heard as it straightened itself, and Raptor could see the large gash that should have easily disemboweled it already closing up.
Ah, so they can both heal.
It was already charging straight at him again. The thing was fast and powerful, but it was acting like it had a one-track mind, sticking to a simple strategy of running towards him and dealing whatever damage it could.
His wings twitched, but there was a barrier in his mind preventing them from moving. Damned Coats.
The fight became a game of evasion, darting and dashing around the bigger and stronger nomuâs swings and countering with deep slashes. Wearing it down was impossible with such rapid healing, every cut he brought upon its skin was quickly sewn shut.
His only chance was to attack its brain, but the nomu had enough sense to protect its one true vulnerable spot, nearly crushing Raptorâs arm into paste after an attempt to sink his talons into the soft matter.
So he kept dodging, and dodging, until something inside the creature just...snapped. Perhaps it was out of frustration in failing to land any hits, but its haunting moans and wails soon became full on screams. Tightly clenched fists pounded into the floor, the stone floor crumbling under the sudden tantrum. Raptor stood and watched, wings tensing from the burst of tortured emotions.
âHm, you werenât exaggerating about the meltdowns,â he heard one of the Coats say, her voice as dull as ever.
âWhat an embarrassment. Damn thing canât even carry out a simple fight.â
Raptor looked behind the glass of spectators and saw faces of disappointment.
âA complete waste.â
âClonerâs children are all wasted potential.â
âWhat a sad display.â
âPathetic.â
He looked back at the creature that was now writhing and flailing, its skin oozing a blob that throbbed and squirmed, like it was trying its hardest to take a shape.Â
But the bubbly pulses stop and the dripping mass melts into a lifeless puddle. The nomu continues to scream after its failed attempt at using its quirk. Raptorâs gut twists with pity.
A sad display, indeed.
âRaptor! Did you forget your orders? Kill him!âÂ
The sharp command smothers all feelings of sympathy, and before Raptor knew it, he was running toward the tormented creature, each feather on his tail sharpening with every step. Ducking under a blind swipe, the black spear thrusted forward and pierced its brain with a sickening shlunk.
The thrashing was reduced to short spasms as the nomu choked out its final groans, its terrified eyes glazing over when the last traces of life faded.Â
The tail was yanked out and shook off the blood and spongy brain matter to splatter on the ground. Raptor gave a soft whine of distress.
âWell, that was all rather underwhelming.â
âYep, that didnât exactly challenge Raptor at all.â
âIâm concerned about his lack of aggression. Did you all see him hesitate?â
âMost likely just confusion and caution after witnessing such a sudden breakdown.â
So many voices, so many comments; Raptor paid no attention to them. His mind was on the corpse that continued to bleed heavily from the large gash in its head. Raptor was the stronger nomu. He won.
Was he supposed to feel proud? Victorious?
âHeâs a very smart one. Did you see the markings in his room? He and his harvester have been...bonding.â That voice...Raptor recognized it as the Coat that showed up every morning to retrieve him from his room to enter these test rooms. âI canât decide if I like the idea of a friendly nomu.â
The woman dismissed his worries. âAs long as he knows to kill when heâs told, his behavior shouldnât matter. But it might benefit us to test his relationship with his owner after weâve finished observing his quirks.â
His throat vibrates as a low growl passes through.
Raptor doesnât like it here.
x---x---x---x---x
Maybe itâs just because Friday (youâre pretty sure itâs Friday on your self-made calendar) tends to be your busiest day of the week, or that your wrist is beginning to wear down from the many giant dicks youâve been stroking. Or maybe itâs just one of those days when you remember just how shitty this life was. Whatever it was, you werenât in one of your best moods today.Â
Thatâs why you felt just the smallest hint of excitement when you reached Hawksâs door. Yes, itâs weird, but he was the closest thing you had to a companion around here, alright?Â
The last thing you expected was to open the door to an empty room, at least it appeared that way until you saw the black creature resting on the ceiling.
âAah!â You yelp and drop the jar out of fright, causing Hawks to jump from the sudden noise. You curse and quickly pick up the container and scan it for any cracks while he gracefully twists his body to drop on the floor with a thud. He was as graceful as a cat...a cat that can comfortably sit upside down.
Relieved to see the jar in one piece, you turned your attention back to the waiting High End. âI didnât know you could climb like that.â
His wings fluttered at the comment and he raised his palms right in front of your face. Ah yes, a hand. Very lovely. But looking more closely, you could see a difference in texture on the rounded pads of his fingertips. âOoh, little sticky hairs, huh?â
He gave a click of what you assumed to be approval, tail swinging behind him.
âSo I guess youâre not just born knowing everything your body can do. Sounds troublesome.â Thereâs something you wanted to do, something you wouldnât ever consider doing with the other nomu even in your dreams. âMay I, uh, touch them?â You held up your own hands innocently.
Hawks cocked his head, a gesture that youâre always going to find kinda cute, before grunting and bringing his larger hands to yours. All ten of your fingers made contact, and the slightest shiver shot down your spine.Â
Itâs the first time youâve ever touched one of these monsters outside of jerking them to collect semen. Your curiosity was always there, but the disgust and fear you often felt when in their presence fueled the overpowering desire to hurry up, get the damn job done, and get away from them as quickly as possible.
You never imagined that youâd be standing face to face with a High End, feeling the surprisingly soft pads on his scaly hands, his breaths deep and hot against your face as those red irises watched your expressions. He was still very intimidating with his tall form, glowing glare, and the large imposing pair of wings. But those eyesâthey contained too much intelligence and emotion in them.
Too human. It was as uncanny as it was fascinating.Â
Only when his eyes close and he begins to croon softly do you realize that one of your hands have moved up to touch his face. The black skin feels extra thick when you gently press his cheek, strong and leathery. He leans in and brings his head closer to give you better access, and you canât help but reward the reaction with scratches against his jaw and chin.
âYou know, youâve been doing a shitty job of acting like the ultimate killer,â you said when he purrs happily.Â
The purr morphs into a disgruntled whine. âDonât...like.â
Your hand pauses, hoping for him to elaborate as well as he could. âDonât likeâŚ?â You encouraged him.
He was still struggling to work his vocal chords, but at least he seemed to be showing less pain. âDonât like...k-killiiing.â
What?
âRaptor, thatâs...you know...the very thing you were made for, and you donât like doing it?â Not that youâre complaining about his gentle nature, but hearing a damn nomu say that he dislikes killing might be the most ludicrous thing youâve heard here, even more so than the first time you were told to make an abomination cum.
His entire body stiffens, and you couldnât help but tense up as well. âMaaade-â He makes a harsh hacking sound. â-to kill?â
Shit. You panic and attempt to backpedal. âNot to actually kill. Youâre supposed to be, you know, the strongest creature thatâs capable of killing whenever he wants...if you, uh, wanted to.â Yeah, that sounds good enough.
It appears to do the trick, his body relaxing again. âDonât like,â he repeated more smoothly this time.
âI know, I know. Killing sucks. Just donât tell the assholes in labcoats that, alright? Now calm down.â You return to your ministrations, this time using both hands to rub and scratch his face. His eyes drift shut again as your hands trail down to his slightly elongated neck, brushing past his steady pulse.
Reaching his collar and then his chest, you discover that heâs solid muscle everywhere. He may not be on the verge of bursting out of his own skin like the others, but he could no doubt snap you like a twig just as easily. You feel his chest heave from a deep breath, the strength emanating from his body making you shiver. You shush him when he jolts as your hands reach his pronounced abs, pushing against the hard muscle until you finally arrive at his groin.
You snorted at the new pair of shorts. âAnother pair, huh? At least these look a little less ragged.â
You pulled his large member out for the third time. Why did you have to do this daily? What could they possibly be doing with so many jars of jizz? Making cakes?
Sighing, you brushed off the soreness of your arm and wrist and began to pump his ridged length. âJust do me a favor and try to cum quickly, alright?âÂ
He made a rather sad groan at that, curling into himself so that his face was close to yours. His sharp breaths were loud in your ears.
You couldnât help but smile even through the strain of your muscles. âWhat, you wanna make this last? Do you know how many dicks Iâve had to tend to today? Cut me some slack, weâre gonna be doing this everyday, anyway.â
Hawks purrs before that monstrous voice shakes your body, his hot breath warming the side of your face and neck. âFeel gooood.â
The primal lust dripping from him triggers a pulse of warmth inside you. You...canât remember the last time youâve felt that, and itâs just a tad strange that a nomu caused it. Were you really that starved for attention? âI-â You cleared your throat after an awkward voice crack. âI know, handjobs tend to feel good. But please be a good boy and help me out here.â
He gives a puff that blows your hair back, but he complies. The big sweaty face that buries itself in your neck is so distracting that you almost forget to get your jar ready and fill it with the incoming spurts of semen. There, the final sample of the day has been collected. Now, if you could just push the panting fiend off of you before he starts drooling on your shoulder.
Something warm and slimy touches your neck. It has you pulling back so quickly that you almost fall and spill the vile essence all over you before the jar could be properly sealed.
Hawks shrinks back and quickly withdraws the indigo tongue into his mouth, looking down in what appears to be shame. You touch the licked spot, the thick saliva coating your fingers.Â
âSss-sorrry.â Regret can be heard clearly in his droning voice.
âNo, itâs...itâs okay,â you stammer. The sensation lingers, and then ignites a spark somewhere inside you.
A sick, disgusting, and absolutely fucked up spark. The next thing you say should horrify you, but instead you feel nothing but a twisted form of anticipation. âYou can...um...do that again, if you want.â
His tail slapped the floor in excitement before he slowly closed the distance again, cautiously looking into your eyes before his tongue slithers out and caresses the same wet space.
The smooth muscle is hot against you, extending to inhuman lengths to explore your neck. The slick sounds as it slid across your skin should have grossed you outâall of this should be grossing you out, so you donât understand why you tilt your head back to give him more room. He licks up and down your throat slowly to savor your taste, breathing heavily and releasing a stale stench from his open maw. You imagined the breath of a previously dead man to smell a hundred times worse, frankly.Â
With your neck completely drenched in his cooling slobber, he ventures upward, purring louder than ever as he tastes the flesh of your jaw. The tapered end of his tongue begins to curiously flick at your earlobe before circling around the shell of your ear. He seems to take a liking to the flabby cartilage and laps at it playfully while giving the occasional nip and suck and god, itâs all heard so fucking clearly, every schlick and smack traveling right through your canal and setting off questionable reactions all over you. Your hands are clenched and held against your chest, but you donât tell him to stop.
âWhat the hell is wrong with me?â
The licking moves to your cheek, lapping at it shortly before moving to your pursed lips.
âThis is fucked up beyond words.â
You flinch when the clammy tongue brushes over your lips, at first smoothing over them lightly, possibly testing to see how youâd react. His face is so close, your noses almost touching. To allow a nomu this close to you, touching you like thisâŚ
When you make no move of resistance, he gets braver and laps at your mouth with controlled eagerness. Your eyes close to hide from the otherworldly gaze, but your lips feel even more sensitive to the weight that continues flicking and pressing at them, covering them in hot saliva. Several times does it briefly part your lips and graze your teeth, making you swallow at the thought ofâŚ
âDonât do that.â
Hawks pauses when you open up for him, but gives a gleeful chirp and snakes his way into your inviting mouth.
âIâm really letting him do this.â
Clawed hands grab your arms a little too tightly and hold you in place. It hurts, yet all you can focus on is the flexible muscle exploring your mouth. It rubbed against the roof, pushed at the inside of your cheeks, and eventually stroked and curled around your own tongue.
âYouâre sick.â
But youâve been sick ever since you got here, havenât you?
When his grip loosens, you take the opportunity to place your hands around his head, digging your fingers into his...hair? Plumage? Was his hair always this feather-like?
A high-pitched sound of surprise leaves him when you try to pull him in closer. He quickly complies, closing the distance until his lips and mouth are covering yours.
It completely smothers your senses. You see his black wings expand to slowly encase both of you. You hear the wet friction of his tongue and the hungry growls that roll from his throat. You smell sweat and blood, briefly wondering just what exactly was he made to do during those âtestsâ. You taste the thick and flavorless saliva that makes you gag at first, but becomes easier to swallow as you take in more. And most of all, you feel him slowly moving in and out of your wide open mouth, the thrusting motion forcing your thighs to rub together in response to the growing heat threatening to consume you.
You snap out of it before that can happen.
Hawks pulls away when he hears your choked sounds of protest, your hands suddenly on his chest and pushing. Fresh oxygen rushes back into your lungs when his tongue leaves your mouth and retreats back into his. The warmth between your legs doesnât fade away. Everything that just happened, everything you just allowed this monster to do fully sinks in.
And you fucking enjoyed it.
You back away from him as quickly as you can, ignoring his confused groans. A wave of nausea sweeps over you like a powerful gust that churns your stomach.
âRest. I need to go.â It was all you said before you picked up the forgotten jar and fled the room, refusing to falter from the sorrowful whines behind you.
The urge to spew the little food youâve been fed throughout the day all over the hallway floor is strong, but you manage to hold out until you reach the toilet in your room, quickly kneeling and hurling. It wasnât much, but it still left you teary-eyed and with a burning throat.
What did you do? Just what the hell did you do that warranted getting kidnapped, having your nice comfortable life stolen from you, and the only way to cope was by making out with a horrid creature? You jolt from a painful mix of a sob and a hiccup. Itâs been weeks since your last breakdown, but this new discovery was another hard blow to your sanity and pride. You let the tears flow as you flushed away your mess, moving over to your bed and collapsing onto the thin mattress. Fuck this facility. Fuck the scum that created all of this.
And fuck the throbbing wetness between your legs that still wonât go away.
Your sobs transform into humorless laughs. Youâre going to have to get rid of the throbbing yourself, arenât you? They wonât arrive to collect all of your samples for about another thirty minutes, so that should be enough time...
You pulled down the thin blue pants and rubbed your fingers over the slick that had gathered from what had transpired in Hawksâs room. Itâs true, youâve been doing nothing but sick shit since youâve been tossed into this new life. Why do you even still hold on to feelings like shame and disgust? What good will they do you here?
So you try to drown out the voice of your conscience as you laid back, succumbing to the wonderfully twisted thoughts of a nomuâs tongue.
x---x---x---x---x
Subject: Raptor
Examination
Quirk #3: Regeneration
Quirk#4: Heat Resistance
Notes: Our most advanced specimens deserve the best healing quirks we have to offer. Raptor is no exception. It will also make up for his lack of weight and hard muscle, not that he should ever be mistaken as frail. Most importantly, this should accelerate the regrowth of his feathers and supply him with an endless arsenal. We do not want to risk his regeneration being hindered by burns. After all, it was fire that led to the hostâs death. This is why we have added a quirk that should make it almost completely fireproof.
The only people that Raptor disliked more than the Coats, were the Masks. The Coats saw him as nothing more than an attack dog that is expected to obey every command. But the humans in masks...to them, he was just a fleshy object to be dissected and analyzed.
They were poking and cutting to their heartâs content. His mind screamed to get away from the assortment of blades and needles that hovered over him, sinking into his skin in various places while he could only writhe against the cuffs of the metal table he was strapped to. He doesnât believe itâs their intention to test every ounce of his willpower, but that sure as hell is what theyâre doing right now as he tries, really tries not to use his feathers out of desperation.
âExcellent. The cuts begin healing the moment theyâre made,â one of them observes. âTry deeper incisions. Maybe I should try removing one of its eyes.â
Raptorâs heartbeat was booming in his ears after hearing those words.
A younger Mask has been flinching from every one of the nomuâs movements. âShouldnât we sedate it or something? What if it lashes out?â
âStop panicking. A nomu wonât hurt anyone without orders, though his responses to pain are stronger than I expected. We may have to fix that.â
Raptor wouldnât mind that at all. He hisses and howls as heâs taken apart and mended back together in a torturous loop. His brain is throbbing so strongly one would worry that it might burst. He fights to think through all of the agony.Â
He thinks of your touch. He thinks of your taste. Were you repulsed by what he did that morning?Â
Sharp pain shot through his wings when his feathers were being forcefully yanked out, his teeth on the verge of shattering from his tightly clenched jaws.
âPerfect! Look at that, theyâre already growing back in.âÂ
They were. He could feel the fresh plumes pushing through his skin. The regeneration did well in preventing any real damage, but it didnât make the violent tearing of his feathers any easier to bear.
The cruel assault on his wings and tail eventually ended, black fluff littering the roomâs floor. He remembers when you mentioned other nomu being capable of shutting down whenever they wanted. What he wouldnât give to just turn off like a light switch right now.
âAlright, itâs time to move on to his heat resistance. Get the torch.â
The what? Raptor searched the fragments of his knowledge; most words were familiar to him, they just took a while to be remembered from...something. He doesnât understand how he already knows so much, even though his subconsciousness needs time to dust everything off.
One of the Masks was holding a small object that ended in a tube. With a push of a button, a small blue flame appeared.
The glowing yellow eyes that were normally slits were suddenly wider than he thought possible, every part of him hyper focused on the small fire that was getting too close to his sore wings. His mind recovered a new piece of information:
Blue flames are to be feared.
He was thrashing the second the searing pain was felt, fighting to escape, to get away from the blue death that threatened to incinerate his wings again. He has felt this before. He doesnât want to burn again.
Panic consumed him, unaware of how much his feathers have sharpened as he beats his wings and tail against the table. He can barely hear the Masksâ frantic voices over the ear-splitting screech, a screech that he realizes is coming from his own strained throat.
ââptor, I SAID STOP!â
âây arm! Fuck, my arm is bleeding badââ
ââold you heâd attack! Why is he reacting soââ
ââatives! Into his neck! Hurry!â
Needles are being jammed into his neck, the chemicals working quickly in sapping away his strength, limbs becoming too heavy to move, and his thoughts were too cloudy to even continue panicking. The scorching heat was still present in his wing, but he can still feel the presence of all of his feathers. There was no foul smell of burnt plumage.
âAaaugh, my arm...â In the corners of his vision, Raptor saw one of the Masks hunched over and clutching a blood-soaked arm. He didnât mean to hurt any of them.
âShut up and go patch yourself up.â An older man motioned the rest to come closer to the calmed nomu, which they cautiously obeyed. âDo you all see it? His feathers arenât damaged at all. Perfect.â
âBut why didnât he stop resisting after you ordered him several times? And why was his reaction to pain so strong?â
The elder grimaced behind his mask and shook his head. âIts pain tolerance is laughable. Thereâs no use in a nomu having such sensitivity. Weâll need to perform an operation that will dull his nerves.âÂ
They scrambled around the table, gathering new tools and focusing the creaky hanging light on Raptorâs face. He was too doped up to even react to the harsh brightness.
âAnd if he ignores us like that again, we may need to alter his brain and ensure his compliance in the future.â
The nomu tried to make a sound of protest, but in his dazed state he could give no more than a pathetic whimper. He was rather thankful of the drugs for making him unable to notice just how many needles were sinking into his brain, or the blades that opened up the rest of his head, keeping the tools in place to prevent his skull from instantly healing. It still hurt, a lot. But as they tweaked his pulsing organ, injecting unknown fluids inside, the pain began to dim. Raptor would have celebrated and attempted to wag his tail in relief.
But it wasnât the only thing that was fading. The coldness of the metal at his back was becoming distant, the chill in the air of the room was suddenly so faint that it no longer made him shiver.Â
He wanted it all to hurt less, but he still wanted to feel.Â
He has no idea how much time had passed once they finally finished and allowed his bone and flesh to close up. The old Mask stared down at him, gloves drenched in thick crimson.
âThat should do it. Going by your weaker reactions, the operation was a success and you now feel less sensation. Good.â
âNo. Not good.â Itâs what he was tempted to say, but Raptor didnât want to utter a single word to anyone besides you, and the cruel manâs recent threat of robbing him of his free will ensured that he keeps his mouth shut.
Raptor hates it here.
x---x---x---x---x
There were fresh claw marks covering the walls of Hawksâs room, and this time they were angry. The drawings and games you made together were literally slashed out, with spots of blood spread out all over the floor.
He was curled up in a corner, wings concealing most of his shaking form.
âRaptor.â Firmly addressing him is usually all it takes to gain his full attention, just like any other nomu, High End or not.
Hawks doesnât respond at all.
Thatâs new...and very unnerving.
You called him again. The mass of feathers didnât budge. You swallowed a lump in your throat. He had clearly just thrown a violent tantrum, and you donât know if he has fully calmed down yet. Approaching him is too risky, but the damn nomu wonât even acknowledge you. So youâll have to get through him in a more natural way.Â
âRaptor, is everything alright? Do you, um, need some space? I can come back a little later...maybe another thirty minutes or so.â You offered, your body slightly twisting toward the door, ready to bolt if he decided to attack. You ignored the cold hard fact that the door and your legs would do little in protecting you from him.
His tail slowly uncurls like a timid snake, wings following suit and revealing his shrunken form. He was hugging himself tightly, talons peeling the skin off of his biceps. His head hung low, but you can see the spot of red in each eye looking right at you. He looked like an angry and frightened child, and his pitiful plea didnât help matters.
âDonât...go.â
His vulnerable state quelled your fears, but you still took caution. âCan I come closer?â
He looks down at the floor for a moment, seemingly pondering the question, before straightening his posture and nodding.Â
You follow the routine youâve been getting used to with him, setting aside the jar and taking some time to talk. âNow tell me whatâs wrong.â
It was supposed to compel him to instantly explain the issue, or at least attempt to with his awkward speech. You instead see him flinch and growl lowly, as if he didnât appreciate you making demands. Just what is going on with him?
Your anxiety was probably visible since he quickly switched back to a less aggressive stance. You wince when he drags a claw through his flesh, blood leaking out for only a second before the wound instantly repairs itself. âCanât feel.â He weeps with cracks in his unnatural voice. At least heâs dragging out his words less and sounds less like a moaning zombie.
âYou canât feel?â You repeated, edging closer and placing a hand over the healed spot. Another growl, louder this time, scares you into pulling away. But his bigger hand seizes yours and presses it hard onto the black skin. You feel the tremors that begin to wrack his body and try to stay calm in the wake of his growing distress.Â
His voice becomes only more broken. âCanât feel it! Canât feel you!â
You find yourself shushing him, holding your free hand up like youâre trying to calm a panicking animal. You cup the side of his face, but that seems to upset him even more. âYou canât feel my hand?â
He shuts his eyes and shakes his head, squeezing your hand tightly enough to cut off circulation. How freely he can emote still freaks you out a bit, face looking on the verge of shedding tears. Everything about him continues to be so surreal.
âRaptor, youâre a shitty nomu,â you told him with a small smile. âNot that I mind.â
And there goes that cute head tilt. The thought of him being released in a city to wreak havoc, just like the one that attacked Endeavor and...him, feels less possible after every meeting.
He was still powerful and potentially dangerous, if the state of the walls were anything to go by. You really shouldnât be pushing your luck or his temper. On the other hand, you did decide yesterday that from now on, you are going to embrace the depraved dumbass within you. Hawks stiffens and starts to slowly pull back, but your hand makes its way to the back of his head. âItâs alright, itâs alright,â you soothed him. âI just want to see if you can feel any of this.â
With no more hesitation, you pressed your lips to his, feeling his shock through a surprised grunt. For a minute, you simply cover his rough lips with kisses while he stays completely still, eyes looking on the verge of bulging right out of their sockets. It looked downright silly. Why was he so shocked by a simple kiss anyway, after the way you let him ravage your mouth yesterday?Â
Your lips pause when you remember the distraught sounds he made that morning as he watched you rush out of the room. Thatâs right.
âHey,â you murmur against him. âSorry for taking off like that last time. Just...donât worry about it, okay.â He released a hot breath onto your face. Your trapped hand is finally freed from his iron grip, numb and stiff, but you keep your attention on the motionless nomu. âWeâre not exactly supposed to be doing this, but I want you t-mmf!â
He suddenly went forward and attacked your lips, aggressively mimicking your movements with enough force to bruise. You try to keep up and calm his pace, sighing into his mouth once his lips finally begin to slow down. Heâs clumsy like you expected, but his intelligence shows when he tries to follow your lead and quickly learns the intimate dance of your mouths. The occasional swipe of that blasted tongue across your lip makes you gasp, and then you feel big strong arms wrapping around you and pulling you close, the beats of his excited wings, the throaty growls that rattle your entire beingâŚ
You can feel yourself heating up again already.
âMmm, Raptor...wait,â you manage to say between kisses, your hands pushing against his chest. He gives a grating sound of annoyance, but pulls away like you wished. You were suddenly hyper aware of his size and strength â this monster that was holding you closely and taking care not to harm you. If any other nomu had you like this, they undoubtedly wouldnât have stopped.
âSo, did you feel any of that?â Your hand travels down to his groin and rubs at the bulge that still had a lot of growing to do. âDo you feel that?â
To your dismay, he shakes his head. âNo,â he groans as his wings droop closer to the floor.Â
It has you stumped. How are you supposed to please him when his whole body is numb?
âButâŚâ He licks his lips slowly. âCan still taste. Tastes so good.â
When you let him lap at your lips again, he twitches beneath the ragged cloth.
You put two and two together, and the realization makes you gulp. And ache.
Remember, shame is useless here.
He allows you to back away and create some distance. The sight before you is frightening on its own: The sharp stare of the raven-winged fiend while surrounded by the deep marks of its outburst would do well in intimidating any sane individual. Remembering what exactly he is makes you pause only for a second, your hands grabbing the bottom of your thin blue shirt and lifting it before your pesky conscience can even get a word in.
Hawksâs wings flare out slightly when your breasts are revealed to him, talons clicking against the floor as he shuffles about, at a loss of how to react. Relieved that you havenât been pounced on immediately, you lean down to remove your pants next, ignoring the trembling in your hands as you pull the garment down and step out of them. They never supplied you with underwear, so with your two articles of clothing removed, you were completely nude in front of the dangerous nomu.
At first you both just stared at each other, until he finally came forward to scan your body more closely, mindful of how nervous you were. The tension made you almost choke and cough on your words.
âI-if you want toâŚtaste more of me, go ahead.â You didnât mean to squeak out those last two words. You blame it on the chilly air.
The hands that take hold of your hips feel extra hot, along with the breath that grazes your chest. The blue tongue slides past his lips and extends to press against the spot right over your pounding heart, then moving smoothly up the column of your neck and your cheek in one long swipe, the wet trail making you shudder. The mouth ventures close to your ear to utter the word that you remember repeating to him on the first day you got him off.
âCalm.â
Itâs followed by a rolling purr that eases you into doing just that. The humming continues while he eyes your breasts, nipples already pert from being exposed to the air. Even in your more relaxed state, the sudden lick across your tit makes your breath hitch. He seems to enjoy your response and repeats the action, giving it several more laps before wrapping around the entirety of the soft globe like a tentacle, squeezing gently.
âAh, Raptor,â you moan when the tip of the tongue flicks at your nipple, sending the tiniest of jolts through you. âDamn, where did you learn to do that?âÂ
He answers with nothing more than a groan as he continues to show off his tongueâs flexibility. It coils and swirls around the skin until every inch of it is covered in his saliva, making you even more sensitive to the cold air. Satisfied with his work, he moves on to repeat the motions with your other breast.
The pleasure was soothing, like a massageâŚif the masseuse had sticky boneless limbs. You close your eyes and wrap your arms around him, letting yourself enjoy the vile act of a monster sampling your taste.Â
His mouth suddenly engulfs you, the damp heat adding to the ongoing feeling of his tongue dancing around your tit. The purrs abruptly become a powerful vibration that electrifies your skin and brings forth your moisture to drip and run down your thighs.
But Hawks suddenly pulls away and stares at you intensely, the glower snapping you out of your daze.
âWhat is it?â You were getting nervous again. Did one of your reactions irritate him?
He breathes in, again and again, sniffing at the air for something. The swaying tail hints that whatever he smells is exciting him. His head lowers in pursuit of the scent and stops at your womanly mound to take a long whiff at the spicy aroma emanating from your cunt.
With his breath now blowing right against your sex and increasing your arousal, your juices trickled freely onto the floor and for him to see. The clawed hands on your hips held you steady, preventing you from collapsing from the nerve-racking anticipation that had you shaking all over. At no point in your life have you ever felt this exposed, being ogled by a pair of eyes in which the irises were bigger than youâve ever seen them, mesmerized by the source of the delicious smell.
The tongue slips between your thighs before you could even prepare yourself, stretching across the entirety of your lips, over your entrance, nearly reaching your ass before it pulls back toward his mouth, the rubbing of the silky muscle creating buzzes of pleasure. Looking down gives you the unpleasant view of his brain, but you also get to see him swallow and savor your taste, humming deeply in approval before salivating with the need to drink up more.
âGood.â
He doesnât wait for your response â his face is already being shoved into you, and youâre suddenly bombarded with delightful hot sensations all over your pussy. The ravenous organ travels up and down your folds, collecting every drop of your sweet nectar while you could do nothing but spread your legs to give him more leeway â God youâre such a whore â and cover your mouth in the hope that no passerbys hear your moans in the room.Â
When your legs officially become jelly and can no longer support you, Hawks tires of holding you up and allows you to fall back a little too hard onto the floor, the impact making you wince. Any other time, he probably would have at least made a sound of apology, but your sopping wet pussy has stolen his attention. He wastes no time in lifting your hips up toward his waiting mouth, now utilizing his lips along with his tongue to loudly slurp up your essence.
His vicious hunger has you seeing stars. Wings open up and expand around both of you like black curtains that darken your vision, like a bird of prey mantling over a hard-earned meal. The only thing you can clearly see between your legs are the eerie glows of red and yellow; the glare of a demon that seeks to devour you from the inside. He starts to suck your folds dry, growling as he inspects every inch of the ravaged honeypot until his lips brush against your neglected clit.
A muffled âfuck!â passes between your fingers, both of your hands tightly clamped over your mouth. The reaction surprises him, and to his delight, it triggers more of your nectar to flow. The most efficient gag wouldnât have been enough to suppress your scream when he sucked hard on your sensitive bud.
You couldnât help it. Fighting past the paralyzing pleasure, your hands blindly grab at his head and accidentally bury your fingers into a soft squishy brain. The discomfort makes him shake his head and groan in irritation, raising his head and narrowing those menacing eyes at you as a silent warning.
âHah...shit...Iâm sorâAH! Fuck-oh my god....â Heâs already attacking your clit again before you can finish your apology. All he cares about at the moment is your taste, and not even you were going to interrupt him. The surrounding wings occasionally twitch and shudder around you, vibrating along with your approaching climax. But the second you feel dangerously close, his lips leave the perky little pebble and move back down to lap at your fresh flow. It tears you away from an orgasmic finale and brings you back to that sensual middle ground. The audible licks were amazing, but you need to reach that edge. Your hand drifted down to your pussy, right over his tongue where you can give your clit the stimulation needed to cumâŚ
âHwrrrrrrrâŚâ
You felt the terrifying snarl more than you heard it, shaking you to your very core. The other core, not the one on the verge of bursting. You immediately pull away and freeze, shivering and breathing quickly at the sight of his bared fangs. For a brief moment, the tent of feathers showed off a faint sheen, like they all suddenly sharpened. A quivering, fear-fueled gasp left you.Â
It felt like the staredown went on forever, but Hawks was eventually convinced that you werenât going to distract him from his feast again and returned his gaze to the fragrant pussy before him. However, after a few more licks, he grunted in frustration. You werenât secreting your precious juices fast enough; your body simply couldnât keep up with his newfound greed.
The insatiable tongue keeps poking and prodding at your opening until it pushes in just enough to slightly stretch your walls. You struggle to stay relaxed and keep your hands to yourself. Hawks was currently as unpredictable as any other nomu, and you didnât want to piss him off.
When the hot thick muscle is suddenly shoved into you, you don't even have time to cover your mouth and block the next scream that is ripped from your throat. Thereâs no time to adjust to the completely foreign sensation. It squirms inside of you like a living creature, massaging your pussy in ways you didnât even know were possible, sometimes hitting that special soft spot.
Your molten center spreads its flames across every nerve. This is far beyond what you fantasized on the night you touched yourself. His tongue was able to fill you completely, all while moving around more freely than a cock or even fingers ever could. Too soon does it leave your pulsing walls and back into his mouth, where he swallows every drop heâs gathered before shooting his tongue back out and penetrating you again before you can even complain.
He was moving with more force, enough to create a visible swell in your stomach that moved along with his tongue. You canât look away from it, even as he begins to push in and out at a steady rhythm, the pleasure building up to new heights while the bulge in your belly moves up and down. Youâre tempted to ask him to move his wings to allow more light for a better view, but interrupting him now is probably a stupid idea.
He pants loudly from his open mouth as he fucks you thoroughly with nothing more than a long powerful tongue, his thrusts moving faster and deeper in search of more of your savory wetness.
Meanwhile, you were dizzy. It was uncomfortable at first. Itâs been so long since youâve been fully stretched, but it all quickly melds into pleasure you have long since forgotten â no â you hadnât even known. Your interest in sex has greatly diminished during your stay here. Hell, you were certain that your libido was officially dead. But HawksâŚ.
This abomination was going to be the death of you.
Your g-spot is suddenly struck again, and again. Most of your words were incoherent, and the ones that could be made out were nothing more than endless encouragement. âGah-hnngh, fuck, Hawks, you want more, donât you? Ah, Iâm about to give you more. Keep going Hawks donât fucking stop.âÂ
Talons are biting into your skin from his tightened grip. With a low bellow of excitement, his mouth moves to cover your entire sex, prepared for the incoming downpour, and thrusts his tongue into your most sensitive spot repeatedly without mercy.
The pressure within explodes violently, completely overshadowing that laughable orgasm you gave yourself yesterday. Each contraction adds more white that flashes in your eyes, moving in from the corners of your vision until it becomes as blinding and unbearable as the bliss that washes over you. There are noisy gulps between your legs, the parched monster happily taking every rush of fluid directly into his mouth and down his throat until he finally has his fill.
Even through your spasms your walls try desperately to clamp around his tongue as it leaves, but to no avail. The looming wings finally move away and return to their usual resting spot behind his back while he sets your lower body down and licks his lips for any remaining traces of your slick. The talons never broke your skin, but they did leave some glaring marks on your hips and ass.
You still tingled all over from the waist down while your muscles make the greatest effort to respond to any of your commands. No use. You decide to lay there covered in the monsterâs spit. The work of that amazing specimen of a tongue almost made you forget that this was being done to arouse him. You should probably check to see if he was hard. He may not be able to feel your hand anymore, but he still might be excited enough to cum from the act. Stupid science bastards, making your job more complicated.
âHawks.â
The single word uttered from the nomu clears your mind instantly. Your weakened arms push you upright to properly face him. He was still crouching, scaly toes supporting the weight of his body like a gargoyle without a perch.
âYou say Hawks. What...is Hawks?â
What? When did you�
Oh. Shit. Your mouth was moving on its own while he was eating you out.
Your mind was zipping in several directions at once, hoping that he wouldnât find anything odd about your eyes darting about, looking everywhere except at him. You settled on a simple and dismissive answer. âOh...donât worry about it. I was just babbling while you had me on cloud nine,â you said with a crooked smile.
Black lips twisted into a frown, accompanied by a quick beat of his wings and then...eww. His brain is pulsing way too much, so much that he shakes his head in agitation, which only adds to the disturbing visual as the organ jiggles slightly in his head. âHawks...donât know...I knowâŚâ His words jumbled over his inner turmoil. The long tail lifted and began to swing quickly.
You sat there, nude and bewildered. Every High-End still carried traces of who they once were, expressing some of the same behaviors and habits they presumably had before death.
This is the first time youâve seen one with any sort of recollection of their past life, even if itâs something as minor as feeling a connection to their name. You have a feeling thatâs not supposed to happen.
You shouldnât tell him anything; nothing good will come out of it. He needs to shut up and start being a bloodthirsty killer before the doctors decide that heâs more trouble than heâs worth.
âRaptor,â your shaky legs move slowly, shifting until youâre resting on your knees, face to face with the nomu that still looks interested in your naked body even as his head throbs. âItâs not important. Stop thinking about it.â
The look he gives you is one of hurt and dammit, this is exactly his problem. âBut...Hawks. Want to know what-â
âI said stop thinking!â Your volume shocks both of you, but Hawks actually recoils from the unexpected shout. You donât care, all it does is confuse you more, anger you more. âWhy the hell arenât you listening to me anymore? Thatâs what youâre supposed to do! Do whatever we tell you! What, did you break?â A full-body chill reminds you of the state youâre in. You were seriously having an outburst while still completely naked with Hawksâs saliva glistening over your thighs. You groan and turn away from the troubled hybrid to grab your clothes and dress yourself, not giving a damn if you pissed him off and he decides to kill you right there. Heâd be doing both of you a favor, really.
But it shouldnât be a surprise when you see that he hasnât budged from his spot, making no move to retaliate. âI like you, Raptor,â you admitted. âSomehow, you managed to be the only welcomed company in this fucked up hospital slash prison, but you shouldnât be. What we just did...that shouldnât have happened. Fuck, I â I shouldâve been terrified, and I kinda was, but, I shouldnât have felt that good!â Your doubts, your conscience, they both return with a vengeance. But this time itâs not you theyâre worried about.Â
âIf this is how you act around everyone else, youâre not going to last here.â You hold his face in your hands, a tender gesture that shouldnât be possible with the likes of him. âThese assholes are gonna get rid of you if you donât do what they want, and theyâre going to ask for horrible things. I know you donât like killing, but if you keep up all of...this, youâre going to lose more than your sense of touch.â
He doesnât make a sound, only staring at you before gritting his teeth and nodding in your gentle grasp. His compliance both relieves and hurts you.
âIâm sorry, but no more questions. Please? The less you know, the better.â
âNo moreâŚquestions.â Dammit, you hate how clear the sorrow is in his eerie voice, like the mournful moans of a lost soul. âNo more.â
You give him a smile of thanks, itâs the least you could give him. You try to bring the atmosphere back to its usual awkward yet friendly vibe. âNow, let me see if your, um, tasting did you any good.â You move to pull down his shorts. That is, until you notice the large damp spots and stains on the cheap material. Oh, he did not.
âWelp, it obviously worked. Now how am I gonna scrape this shit off?â
x---x---x---x---x
Hawks.
Flames.
Decay.
Death. Everywhere.
But, somehow, he knew it wasnât his doing.Â
Maybe he did kill a few...he wasnât sure. Itâs all so blurry and nauseating.Â
Was he killing people? Was heâŚtrying to save them? A monster like him, saving people?
âNo more questions.â
Your voice echoes, bouncing across the shattered fragments of his mind. Raptor tries to obey. He doesnât know what this Hawks is, or why it keeps plaguing him.
Whatever Hawks was, itâs gone. Raptor wants it to leave him alone.
x---x---x---x---x
Subject: Raptor
Field Test
Quirk #5: Camouflage
Notes: As you know by now, Raptor differs from other nomu in that he is designed for agility and stealth. An invisibility quirk will not only make Raptor into the perfect phantom, it can also assist in infiltration and spying. While the quirk may be called âcamouflageâ mainly due to how it changes skin pigmentation, it does much more than match the colors of the environment. It hides the userâs entire form as perfectly as any true invisibility quirk. Raptor should be more than capable of destroying targets without ever being noticed.
You were right. It was strange how he doesnât discover these âquirksâ on his own. It was an understatement to say that he was a little lost when a Coat ordered him to activate his Camouflage. Raptor was prepared to feel those words bind his limbs and move him against his will. Whenever his brain was under the Coatsâ control, he was capable of doing whatever they asked, even when he himself didnât understand what they were asking for.
So it was worrying when he felt nothing. He heard the order loud and clear, yet it didnât wrap around his brain like it always does.Â
So it wasnât just you. His mind no longer submitted to anyoneâs commands. He would have chirped in celebration if he didnât have an audience that was still waiting for him to follow through, giving looks and comments of impatience while he stood there.Â
He canât let them notice that he was unaffected. The words of the Mask that stole his touch repeated in his head along with the memories of cutting and burning, every nerve seething from raw pain until all feeling began to fade.
âIf he ignores us like that again, we may need to alter his brain and ensure his compliance in the future.â
Alter...change...he doesnât want them to change him. So Raptor tried to pretend, another thing that felt natural to him.Â
The process of finding his new quirk was difficult to describe; it was more like willing himself to blend in until the rest of his body got the message. All of his muscles tightened, and he almost panicked when black skin began to disappear before his eyes. His wings, his tail, every part of him looked as if it was dissolving, but he can still move and feel the weight of each limb. Once his body relaxed, he was fully invisible. The Coats kept him pinned with their stares, however.
âCompletely hidden. Very good,â one of them said, writing something down. Theyâre always watching, always taking notes on him, always judging. This all felt familiar as well. âNow, walk from that corner to there, and keep a hold on your quirk.â
There was no pull, no sudden fuzziness or loss of control. Nothing. Itâs a strange feeling, following orders because he actually chooses to. It will take some getting used to, but it shouldnât be too difficult.Â
Has a monster like him ever acted before? It sure feels like it.
He performed several different tasks: running, climbing, flying, and shooting feathers. All while unseen by the naked eye. The feat even earned him a round of applause from the Coats.
âI can picture it already. He could slice apart an entire group of targets, and they wouldnât even understand their deaths. A flurry of invisible blades!â One of them exclaimed with a smile that was way too wide given the subject matter.
âDonât worry, weâre going to get a taste of what this is capable of right now.â
Right on cue, the doors opened. Every feather on his wings and tail bristled instantly, ready to shred whatever possible threat that may enter. They wouldnât be able to see him. It would be so easy, just like the Coats said.
But instead of another nomu that was simpler and more violent than him, a woman was shoved into the room hard enough to make her stumble forward and fall, the door slamming shut behind her. She was dressed like you, wearing only a thin blue shirt and pants. What did they bring someone like her in here for?
She was already back on her feet, scanning the area with wide eyes and shrunken pupils before moving her gaze to the humans that continued to observe from the other side. The fear in the air was so thick that Raptor could nearly taste it as she shook uncontrollably â he wondered if her knees would collapse from the trembling alone.
He was still camouflaged; she couldnât see him at all. The urge to reveal himself is strong, but one: the Coats had yet to order him to deactivate his quirk, and two: knowing that she was in a room with a nomu will most definitely only terrify her more, so he stayed where he was, motionless and quiet.
For a suffocating minute, the only sound was her rapid breathing until one of the Coats finally spoke up.
âKill her, Raptor.â
âWhat?â The womanâs voice was constricted by anxiety. She looked timidly at the man, who only stared back expectantly, waiting for something. âW-what?â She choked out again. She switched her attention to the door, still distressed and shaking. When no horrid beast entered the room like she expected, her panic increased even more, stuttering so badly that it was a challenge to discern what she was trying to say. âI-I-I w-I wonât...Iâm s-so...p-p-please.âÂ
Her head whipped upwards to a vent in the ceiling. Nothing happened. The confused woman was now spinning around looking for something, hysterical with the knowledge that her impending doom was coming, but not knowing where or when. The weight of her dread was making him anxious.
The same Coat, however, only sighed in annoyance at the sight of the trapped panicking animal. âDonât dawdle, Nomu.â The final word dripped with venom. It reminded him of his place: a puppet that should have no will of its own. Raptor didnât want to kill, but if he defies them, then they will dig into his brain again, and the woman will probably be violently killed by a more enthusiastic nomu. Heâs afraid of what they might take from him next. He canât let that happen.
The shrinking woman is still whipping her head around in every direction as her bare feet take a step backwards, then another, completely unaware of the larger creature that stood right behind her. He canât guarantee a painless death, but he can make it as quick as possible for her.
Raptor added an edge to some of his feathers, but reconsidered. That would require pinpoint accuracy, not worth the risk with a target that was moving so erratically.
His tongue curiously ran over the points of his teeth, checking their sharpness. No, that would leave too much of a mess.
His hands clenched into fists, and thatâs when he practically heard the ding in his head. A simple method, but it should work just fine.
He was originally going to wait until she backed all the way into him, but that would be rather cruel. Killing her before she even recognizes the danger is a greater mercy. His hand struck with the swiftness of a snake, grabbing the back of her neck. The delicate spine could be felt beneath.
Raptor was not as strong as other nomu. That didnât mean he couldnât crush a humanâs bones with little effort.
He felt her jolt, but thatâs all she had time to do before the sickening snap and crunch sounded throughout the room, then she went limp with nothing more than a few final twitches.
Some of the Coats audibly gasped, while others clapped excitedly at the kill they couldnât even see coming. From their perspective, an unsuspecting womanâs neck was suddenly crushed by an invisible force like an aluminum can.
One of them didnât look very impressed. âEh, a bit anticlimactic, donât you think?â
âWeâre not watching a bloodsport,â another one snapped. âRaptor is designed to handle matters quickly. A cervical fracture is fast and effective.â
âShe was so terrible at her job. I think she deserved a terrible death in return,â another said.Â
Their babbling continued while Raptor placed the body on the floor more gently than his audience would have liked. Her eyes were still wide open, frozen in that moment of realization just a millisecond before death. Still, things could have been much worse for her.Â
âI still think we should have used his harvester instead. Sheâs becoming a nuisance.â
Raptor has grown to really dislike that voice, the voice of the man that takes him away every morning. He always stares at him like an expensive possession that turned out to be a waste of money. Itâs an effort to keep his lips from curling over his teeth whenever the bastardâs around.
An older lady spoke. âHer relationship with the nomu is unique and warrants its own set of experiments after we cover the basics here. We already told you that.â
âYes yes, I know. But her sample this morning was pathetic. Itâs like sheâs forgotten her job, too busy turning our greatest achievement into a softie. Call me petty, but Iâd get a good laugh out of watching her be devoured by the nomu that sheâs decided to become friends with.â
Anger.
âYou are petty, and short-sighted. Do you understand just how extraordinary this relationship is?â
Another Coat butted in. âSure, but what use is sentiment to a nomu? This was supposed to be a cold lethal predator, not a child that likes to draw on walls. I agree that the bond with its harvester is holding it back. It would be better off without her.â
Raptor hates it. He doesnât want any of them talking about you. To think that theyâd consider something as twisted as offering you to him as a helpless prisoner to execute, just like the one whose spine he had just snapped.
How dare they.
The lady was suddenly staring right at him with a look of shock before her aged lips curled into a smirk. Actually, everyone was staring at him now, and they all showed varying levels of discomfort. Thatâs when he noticed that he can see his hands in front of him again, along with his feet, wings, and the rest of his body. His fury made him lose his hold on the Camouflage quirk. They had all just seen his face of hatred.
And yet the lady continued to smile. âI donât believe he agrees with you two.â
She then whispered something, lips forming what looked like the word âmagnificentâ while her eyes bore into him. Even his rage was nothing more than a fascinating process to be examined.
Raptor wants to get out of here.
x---x---x---x---x
Youâre alright. You made it out. You were bruised, but you made it out.
That High-End nearly broke your fucking arm when it came. It was always a pretty rough one when you jerked it off but for godâs sake, why did it always have to squeeze you like a stress ball? Thankfully, your painful shriek of âSTOP!â was enough to penetrate the horny shield over its brain and it released you.
It wasnât your first injury, but itâs been a while since youâve gotten such a scare. It couldâve been worse â it could always be much worse.
The fact that you feel elated when you reach Hawksâs room shows how close the two of you have gotten in less than a week. Two prisoners who agree that this place can go fuck itself; one was pumping cocks on the daily, the other failed miserably at being a ruthless monster. They ought to make a movie out of this.
You enter the room to see him resting in the center while several feathers carve into different areas of the walls and ceiling. His understanding of shapes was becoming more complex at a rapid rate, if the current drawings were anything to go by. They looked to be unintentionally abstract faces, varying greatly in size and structure, but one thing they all had in common was oversized eyes. Every face was furiously scratched in, the sound of chiseling surrounding you and adding to the ominous aura given off by the etchings that lacked skill but teemed with raw emotion.Â
The scattered claw marks from yesterday are still as visible as ever. Everyday, this place looks more disturbing even with the not-so-hostile creature that occupies it.
Something prompts his feathers to stop abruptly and return to him, followed by him quickly standing up and hissing. The badly-timed hostility makes you jump back. âRaptor? What is it?â You tried to stay calm as usual.
He drew closer, eyes narrowed and teeth bared at the purplish welts on the arm that held your gazillionth jar. Oh, of course. You waved with you uninjured one. âItâs alright. One of the High Ends was being a little heavy-handed. It stings, but itâll get better.âÂ
Hot air hits you when he releases a snort. While he studies the bruise, you continue to examine the newest artful additions. âSo...what do all of these mean?â You ask.
He follows your traveling gaze and mutters. âWatching. Theyâre always watching.â
He said it so smoothly that it gave you chills. âYouâre tripping up less on your words. Thatâs, uh, good.â When a grunt is his only response, you keep talking. âAre these the doctors?â He nodded. âDid you...have to kill again?â
A beat. Then he nods again, more slowly this time. âIt was easier.âÂ
Youâre not sure what to say to that, deciding to instead rest a hand on his arm. For some reason, what he said didnât scare you. It was you who asked him to act more like a nomu, anyway.
You both stayed like that for a few minutes, standing side-by-side in the middle of the roomâs crude composition that illustrated his short life. Innocence, rage, and now a feeling of powerlessness. You can relate; your progress here was very similar except that the âinnocenceâ part can be replaced with âgriefâ, having lost contact with everything you were familiar with.Â
âYou know, maybe I can add my own additions to this sometime, if you donât mind. Make this place our own little mural.â You giggle when his tail swings at the proposal. âThereâs no way they havenât noticed how odd of a duo we are by now. I wonder how those assholes feel about all of this.â
Youâre grabbed and pulled into him so quickly that the jar slips out of your grip, rolling away as youâre pushed into a hard black chest. The tight embrace squeezes your swollen arm painfully. âShit, that hurts!â
He whines apologetically and loosens his hold. Pain and lack of oxygen aside, itâs oddly comforting. You havenât been hugged in ages, and here you were being held by this. A song of soft coos calm you, but there is a noticeable sad tone to them. You look up at him, chin resting on his pecs. âRaptor, I know it sucks here, and I donât really know what to say to make things better, but Iâll keep trying to hang out with you for as long as I can, alright?â You reassure him while rubbing his chest. âRemember, youâre kind of the best thing that ever happened to this place. Not that my standards in this shithole are very high â theyâre actually lower than a regular nomuâs sex drive â but itâs still an achievement you should be proud of.â
Your words did their job, if his lighter hums are anything to go by. His comforting heat was gone too soon when he gently pushed you back, following up with a press of lips against yours.
Thereâs no more clumsiness in his movements. He switched from light brushes that had you craving more to deep smooches that took your breath away. There wasnât much else you could do except follow his lead. The teasing licks against your lips never fail to get you going, and he probably knows that by now. Unfortunately, you had to break apart for a breather, allowing him to cradle you as he waited.
âWho the hell have you been kissing while Iâm not around to learn so fast?â You joked.
You didnât expect him to look away and hesitate to answer before uttering, âI...remembered.â
If he was expecting that to upset you, it didnât. You canât stop his brain from working, and he no longer automatically gives in to any demands. You still donât know whatâs up with that. âRight,â you sighed. âAre you remembering anything else?â
âNo...same things. Hawks...fire...death...I want to forget.â He pulls you in again, this time taking care not to add too much pressure to your bruises. His strangled attempts at speech have become smoother over the days, but hearing the winged hero beneath the layers of grotesque sounds that create his voice is going to take a long time to get used to. âCan...you...make me forget?â
A twinge of sadness and pity. Are his final moments the only parts that keep playing in his head, in a cruel loop? You direct all of your strength into your voice and speak. âForget about it. Forget about Hawks and all of those foggy memories.â
He sits there and blinks with no clear sign that your words had any effect.Â
Then he wilts and groans in defeat.
âNo good, huh?â You shrug. You truly did wish you could help him. âThereâs not much else I can do, sorry.â A pause. âMust feel like nightmares, I guess. I get plenty of those.â You rest in his hold while recalling some of the fears that manifest in your sleep. âDreams about what theyâll do when they donât need me anymore. I never had the guts to put myself out of my misery â donât have many options to work with anyway. Maybe I can ask a nomu to chomp my head off.â
âNo.â The word was growled out, felt all around you like a small quake. You quickly try to calm him by raising your uninjured arm to hold and caress his face. You know that he couldnât exactly feel it anymore, but the memory of your touch is probably what still managed to soothe him. It was an intimate image, touching him so lovingly while in his arms.
âDonât worry, Iâll stick around. We can make things easier for each other.â Without a second thought, you straighten up and begin pushing down your pants, Hawks already chirping in excitement and fumbling with your shirt, his talons ripping the cloth. You were naked in front of him once again, and the memories of yesterday already have your pussy lubricating itself in preparation. Samples...semenâŚ.you werenât thinking about any of that. You just wanted him again.
âLetâs help each other forget.â
And just like that, you were devoured. His mouth was everywhere and you happily took it all. You were addicted to his touch as much as he was addicted to your flavor. The dark blue tongue moved gracefully across your face, the small grin and lidded eyes telling you that he quite enjoyed the sight of you covered in his saliva. You opened your mouth wide as an invitation that he gladly took, the strong muscle charging straight into your mouth and hitting the back of your throat. It makes you gag and has tears pricking at your eyes, yet you continue to throb between your legs.
He fucks your mouth so fast and roughly that youâre forced to only breathe through your nose. Youâre clinging onto him as you gurgle around the ravaging muscle, your nails unable to pierce his tough hide no matter how hard you grip.
Something solid rubs right against your sex, grazing your clit and leaving you moaning into his mouth. His hips were bucking into the air with a very prominent tent that constricted his growing cock.
Itâs the first time a nomuâs dick actually touches you there.Â
And it makes your walls clench.
You get closer for more friction, trying to grind against the massive erection while he finally removes his tongue from your mouth. Thatâs when he notices just how hard youâre trying to get off on his bulge.
Heat is rushing to your face at his puzzled expression. âYou-â You gasp, still catching your breath after having him squirm down your throat for so long. âYou feel pretty good.â
He simply watches you continue to rub against him â you donât even notice that his hips are no longer moving, you just press closer to him and grind harder in desperation. His wings flutter and the rest of his body shakes lightly, his breaths coming out in short huffs.
He was laughing.
The look of amusement is so unexpected that it has your hips stopping out of embarrassment. And here you thought nothing else could leave you flustered at this point. âYou donât have to laugh. Trust me, youâve looked way more desperate than I have,â You tease him.Â
He clicks his tongue, then with a yank and a loud rip, his shorts are in tatters and his cock springs free right onto your belly. Another short round of huffs are heard from him when you squeak in surprise. Just where did this attitude even come from?
Beads of precum ooze from his pointed head and drip onto your stomach. Maybe itâs your lust-tinted lenses, but his cock is looking much more attractive than usual. Its curved perfectly to hit all of the right spots, and those ridges probably feel amazing when moving inside you.
âWant more?â
The low-pitched voice right in your ear has you shaking, like it was a question from the Devil himself. Thirst aside, you donât know what you should say. You trust that he wonât fuck you to shreds like the other High Ends would, but the biggest issueâŚ
âI donât know if I should risk that,â you murmur, a hand reaching to rub the textured flesh. âAs tempting as it is right now.â
His confidence is replaced with disappointment. That is, until he immediately perks back up and grabs your hips.
âWait what are yoooo-whoa!â Youâre being lifted off the floor, legs dangling uselessly as he holds you easily, your body hovering right over his twitching dick.
Panic begins to set in. âNo! Nononono I said-â
âI wonât.â He says softly. As softly as he can with such a voice, at least. âCalm.â
Instead of penetrating like you feared, he lowers you until your flushed lips are resting on the length of his scaly shaft. Â
And then, slowly, his hips push forward.
The bumps and creases slide against you in all of the right ways. âOooh fuck.â You adjust yourself to ensure that he rubs your clit as well. The sensation has you shuddering in his hands as the pressure inside you builds quickly. Your slick makes his dick smoother after each thrust, and when Hawks sees that youâre comfortable and lost in the rhythm, he begins to speed up.Â
Your legs are swinging madly at a complete loss on how to handle the electrifying friction, but the nomu grunts and takes hold of your thighs. They close around his cock, greatly increasing the pressure as he continued to fuck past your thighs. âStay there.â The vibration from his deep raspy voice only arouses you more. His hips collide with yours after each buck.
As amazing as it feels, your hazy mind recalls that Hawks shouldnât be able to properly revel in this outercourse. âI-I thought...you couldnât feel this.â You say shakily.
Hawks is eyeing your bouncing form with great interest, his hips not missing a beat as he answered. âCanât. Just watching.â
He presses down on you more, slowing down his pace with his eyes still locked on your face. His tongue quickly swipes across your forehead to taste the sweat that has mixed with his saliva. âYou look good.â
Goddamn him.
You felt close, so close, but even as your limbs tingle from the pleasure, your orgasm remained out of reach. The most severe ache that had yet to be sated, to be given any attention, was inside you. You have never throbbed this much in your life, you didnât even know that your muscles down there could even contract this tightly. The dragging of his cock against your drenched lips isn't enough. You donât care about risk anymore. Not after feeling what he has to offer.
Thereâs no voice telling you how stupid youâre being right now. It already gave up on you.
Good.
âHawâshitâRaptor, inside. I need you inside.â You beg between your moans. He stills completely, which has you whining and squirming even more.
âInside?â
Hearing him say it sobers you up a bit, but not enough to kill your desire. âJust pull out before you cum, alright? Think you can do that?â You ask.
He nods eagerly, wings and tail moving with glee as he lifts you off of his dick that was already lubed up by your natural fluids. He angles himself until the head is pressing at your twitching entrance.Â
You canât tell if youâre trembling from excitement or fear. Probably both.
The fine tip already has you being stretched wide, burning and stinging in spite of your pussy��s preparation. It makes you wince and want to close your eyes â to create some distance between you and the pain â but your curiosity has you looking down to watch him enter you, inch by inch. You can once again see your stomach distend as it attempts to accommodate the large intrusion, much bigger than the slithery tongue that previously invaded it.
But itâs exactly what you craved, the unique texture feeling even more delicious when inside of you. Your toes curl and legs quiver from his girth; not as meaty as the other dicks that youâve treated, just enough extra thickness to give you a stretch that youâve never experienced, without causing serious harm.
He reaches the end of your cavern with a few more inches to spare, and the drawn out moan slipping past his lips surprises both of you. You try to relax around him while he fights the urge to move. Black shaky wings expand behind him.
âFeelâŚâ He gasped and choked, one would think that he was trying to learn speech all over again. âCan feel...squeezing. So gooood.â The last word came out as a strong rasp against your face.
The new discovery has you smiling, one of your hands rubbing at a much larger one around your waist. âYou can feel it? You feel how tight I am, Raptor? How badly I want you to stay inside me and never leave?â He may not be able to feel your heat or your dampness, but it looks like he canât escape the pressure from a cuntâs death grip.
He twitches inside, making you jolt. Oh, how quickly the tables have turned.
You scratch under his chin. Numb as he is, he still tilts his head like a pet dying for affection. âThen I want you to fuck me. Stop thinking, and just move...â You bring your face close to his, pulling off a seductive look and tone even when impaled on him. â...Just like a good nomu.â
Perhaps Hawks had a submissive kink when he was alive. It would explain why that riled him up so much that he was already slamming into you with absolutely no warning.Â
It hurts. It hurts so fucking good. Every thrust tears a helpless cry out of your body. The scales grind against every nerve around your hole, while the ones deeper inside nudge your velvety walls as they move in and out, in and out.
You couldnât talk between your screams, not with how violently he was pounding you. Your arms and legs wrapped around him and hung on for dear life with your face buried in the crook of his neck. His own muscular arms wrap around you in a deceptively loving embrace, pumping into you with a rhythmic smack smack smack. All you can do is reap what you sow and take it.Â
This wasnât just for you, this was for Hawks as well. You gave him something that he could feel again. What began as whiny gasps for air soon became rolling growls that vocalize a need for more.Â
Your orgasm barely sticks out of the continuous blinding pleasure as he plows harder through your spasms, your contracting muscles wrestling with the merciless cock to hold it inside.Â
His tone is dark. Vicious. âTight. So tight!â
It makes your greedy body want even more. âOh, good job, Raptor. Such a good boy.â You praise him, feeling the brief falter in his movements. He really does like that. âGo ahead and take it all, as much as you need-ah. Donât worry about me. Fuck me until I canât think.â
The violent sex stops and youâre being ripped away from that wondrous cock in the blink of an eye. Before you can even question whatâs happening, your world begins to spin until youâre suddenly on the floor. Youâre getting adjusted onto your hands and knees right before being pierced again with a force that shoves you forward.Â
Your thoughts struggle to keep up with the lightning-fast sequence of events, hindered even more by the warmth of the body hovering right over you. Hawks too was on all fours, though he looked much more comfortable and natural, wings fully spread out in a proud and dominant display as he throbbed inside of you.Â
His hips snap forward, already at a rapid pace that rocks you with each hard impact and soon has you howling again. The floor was filled with uneven cracks and scratches that scraped your knees, not that the discomfort was easy to notice while you were being drilled into. As you latched onto one of his arms for support, you noticed right in front of you, was your first game of tic tac toe.
Drool dripped down from the snarling jaws above you and onto the innocent group of lines and shapes.
The mounting beast humped you with every ounce of energy he had. Your aching pussy couldnât take it. Too hard...too big... youâre cumming again around his pistoning cock, moans melting into defeated sobs. The huge pair of swinging balls occasionally smacked right into your oversensitive clit. You were losing the will to hold yourself up, gripping his supportive arm more tightly while your thighs quivered. Even if you had the strength to, you had no plans to ask the feral savage to stop.
He currently wasnât anything like the gentle experiment youâve befriended in just a few days. Right now, with his head thrashing around and flinging spittle everywhere as he barked, and wings beating hard against the floor, he was terrifying. Powerful, hungry, and single-minded.
So this is what itâs like to give in to a nomu.
Itâs scary.
Itâs thrilling.
Every fast agonizing stroke right against your cervix takes your breath away, your mouth eventually just hanging open in an attempt to capture whatever oxygen it could into your lungs. Hawks curls into himself so that he can crane his neck and look at you, saliva flowing freely down his chin. Each breath came out as a throaty growl wafting against your sweaty face. He takes one look at your parted lips, and stuffs you with his tongue.
If your thoughts were more coherent at the moment, youâd wonder how the hell the muscle was strong enough to be able to move into your throat as hard as the dick that continued to wreck your insides. His hips assisted in gagging you even more with each thrust. The threat of asphyxiation only brought you closer to your next orgasm.Â
Your mind was empty, save for the immoral thoughts that have long since driven off their more honorable competition.Â
Just use me.
Your entire body was on fire, getting pummeled from both ends.
Just use me however the fuck you want.
Hawks is suddenly bombarding your cunt with short and speedy ruts of his hips, and that does it. Your limbs give out and leave you to plop onto the floor as your pleasure blooms all over. But his long tongue follows you, still pushing into your whimpering mouth to deprive you of much-needed air. He simply lowers himself and proceeds to fuck you hard into the ground, pressing your skin into his many carvings.
His tongue leaves...your eyes rolling backâŚ.
Hawks releases a horrid cry that sounds like both a roar and a bird-like shriek.
ExhaustionâŚ
Hawks is too lost in the surprising sensations, dull but still intense, to realize that heâs shooting his thick load into your womb
Warmth...full...sleep.
x---x---x---x---x
âGet up.â
The voice is muffled as you slowly come to. Whatever youâre resting on doesnât feel like your bed.
âI know youâre awake. Hurry and get up.â
Youâre surrounded by warmth, by something breathing. Pain shoots through your back and legs when you stir. When you open your eyes, you see the golden eyes of a High End.
The fear does well in masking your aches as you scramble out of the arms of what turned out to be Hawks, who was lounging on his side like a giant cat.
And standing at the door, was the damned doctor that you had the privilege of seeing every day.
His stare looked even more judgmental than it usually did. Full-on disgusted, actually. Realizing that youâre still naked, you grab one of Hawksâs wings that were splayed out on the floor to shield yourself.
He simply shakes his head. âIâve already seen enough. And heard enough.â
Oh shit.
Oh shit.
âI-IâŚâ you stammer, panic rising in your chest as youâre unable to come up with any sort of explanation. You even turn to Hawks, like heâd somehow provide you with the answer.
âI normally donât care what deplorable methods you people use to collect your samples, but going by the filth between your legs...â That prompts you to look down, and the second you do, you already feel a dense fluid oozing out of you and running down your legs that were stained with white. â...you actually allowed Raptor to inseminate you.â
His words, along with your accelerating heartbeat, thunders in your ears. Hawks is watching his seed leak from your raw pussy. He remains still and quiet, uncertain of how to act in the presence of a doctor.
âTo think that someone would deliberately let a nomu breed them. I know that the two of you have gotten close,â His eyes skimmed past the many images and markings in the room. âBut just how depraved do you have to be to go this far with a nomu?â
If this was before the days you allowed Hawks to touch you, you would have felt embarrassed. You are scared. Not only did he cum inside you, youâve also been caught right after the act.
But any sort of shame?
You had the nerve to huff, still hiding your body from him not out of shyness, but because the asshole didnât deserve the view. âI guess weâre all sick fucks around here,â you retort.
The glare on his glasses add to the intimidation factor of his glower. He takes a step forward and gives a quick tilt of his head. âGet dressed. Youâre coming with me.â
Both you and Hawks are taken back. âFor what?â
He scowls even harder. âStill asking questions? Youâre lucky that youâre valuable right now. You have most likely been impregnated. This is an unexpected opportunity to observe one of Raptorâs offspring. Weâll be watching over you until the birth.â
You donât move, still soaking in every word. This most definitely was a mistake. Not only are you going to be taken away from Hawks to be cooped up in a room with constant surveillance, youâre going to have a...fuck.
You feel the wing in your grasp vibrate softly, Hawks sensing your distress and attempting to silently reassure you.
âI said get dressed,â the doctor ordered impatiently. âOr are you still basking in the afterglow?â He snickered at his own joke before walking forward, ready to take you by force.
Thatâs when the nomu in the room finally stood up to step right in front of you, standing tall in all of his naked glory and easily towering over the man.
You had to give the guy credit for not looking phased by the very dangerous creature blocking his path. Then again, maybe he was just so sure that Hawks wouldnât harm him in any way.
âOut of the way, Raptor.â Strong and firm. Itâs the tone that ensures a nomuâs obedience, but you know by now that Hawksâs mind has grown beyond that.
As expected, Hawks doesnât budge, still looking down with eyes of liquid gold.
The doctor only looks more annoyed, not afraid. âI knew you were defective,â he sneered. âAlways hesitating during tests. Such wasted potential, yet the others insist on keeping you around. To do what? Decorate rooms? The idiots should have altered your brain by now.â
What?Â
Hawks still didnât move. The lack of reaction was beginning to get to the manâs nerves, his hands balling into fists as he contemplated what action to take next. You stayed mostly hidden behind Hawks, anxiously looking past his wings.
When he accepted that the nomu wasnât going to move, and forcing his way past him was too dangerous of an option, he smirked. âFine, then. Youâre only making yourself look worse. Iâm certain I can convince them to move forward with that operation after they see how defiant youâre being right now.â
No! You feel so damn useless. The bastard wanted to change him into something more compliant. How much would that change Hawks himself? You donât know if thereâs anything you can do that wonât just end with you being thrown into the lionâs den.Â
The doctor placed two fingers to his temple. Fuck, his quirk.Â
âBackup needed in South Hall, room five oâ ni-â
He stopped. Pure shock took over his face, words replaced with the faintest choked sounds. You truly considered asking if he was feeling alright.
Until a thin line of red appeared at his throat, blood oozing out, the bleeding getting heavier by the second.
âWhat. The. Fuck?â Your breaths were becoming too short as you watched him crumple, the liquid crimson quickly pooling around him. âWhat the fuck is going on?â
The confusion and fear was making you delirious. God, you were going to pass out again, this is too fucking much, this asshole was about to take you away because you have a monster growing inside you and then he was going to turn Hawks into a regular High End but now heâs dead but who the fuck killed him and whatâs about to happen to you-
âCalm.â
A large hand on your shoulder grounds you, steadying your breathing and expanding your tunnel vision. Hawks is in front of you, releasing soft coos.
âWhaâhowâwhaâŚâ Your shaky lips are unable to form words, but he seems to understand. Something materializes right in front of you. Small, black, and sharp. Itâs a feather, floating between the both of you. âWhat?â You finally spit out.
âCamouflage,â thatâs all he says, as if that explains everything. Since when was he able t-
Whatever. Thereâs too much shit happening right now.
Still shaking, you look to see the doctor still bleeding, some of the blood flowing into the engravings and painting them red.
âY-you killed him?â You whisper.
He nods, staring apathetically at the body.
âBut, I thought you didnâtâŚâ You trailed off, too stunned by everything that has happened to finish.
He turned his attention back to you, red irises â as red as the blood that continued flow â staring into your frightened eyes. âIt gets easier.â
Once again, youâre not sure what to say to that.
He looks to the door. âMore coming soon.â
Right, whoever the doctor was contacting must be wondering why his telepathy was suddenly cut off.
âI want to leave.â
âLeave? Like, you want to escape?â Another nod. âThatâs...I donât know if thatâs possible. There are villains around here. Strong villains. Shit, they might release some of the nomu on us!âÂ
âYou want to stay?â
Your mouth opens, then closes.
âIâm strong, and fast.â His wings unfurl and sharpen every feather, his tail curling around you so that you can see the knifelike plumes on it. âCan heal very fast and blend in. Can do a lot.â
The display and simple explanation reminds you that you havenât seen any of his combative skills firsthand. This is what they made him for.
Well thenâŚ
âRight, then how about we give them a final test?â Just when you were finally calming down, adrenaline is already being pumped back into your veins. âLetâs show them how unstoppable their latest work is.â
His little peep of agreement nearly ruined the moment, but it reminds you why youâve grown so fond of him.
He turns around and crouches, motioning you to climb onto his back and wrap your arms around his neck. It was awkward, mostly due to the wings that you were squishing under you, but when you voiced your worries he just gave you an âItâs fine.â He warned you to hang on extra tightly whenever he gets low to the ground. Heâs a much faster runner on all fours.
Stepping over the corpse that has bled dry, he stopped at the door and braced himself.Â
âReady?â
Your arms and legs were secured around him. You breathed in through your nose then out through your mouth.Â
Breath in. Breathe out.
A lot of death and destruction is probably about to come your way.
Breathe in. Breathe out.
It would be great if you never had to fill another jar ever again.
Breathe in. Breathe out.
Your clammy skin hasnât felt sunlight in fucking forever. Are the heroes even still alive out there?
Breathe in. Breathe out.
You try not to think about whatâs happening in your womb.
âIâm ready.â
The door is pushed open.Â
x---x---x---x---x
Targets first spotted at 12:50
The old surveillance cameras flicker and lag. It makes noticing the running black figure all the more difficult. On most screens, youâll see nothing more than a blur. There will be the occasional confrontation with villains, sometimes accompanied by researchers with incapacitation quirks. More often than not, the escapees easily outmaneuver them, crawling and leaping on every surface and zooming past their potential captors before they can even follow.
Some of the stronger villains and nomu slow the duo down only briefly before they collapse from an unseen force. The recovered bodies possessed deep cuts across major arteries or accurate punctures in their major organs.
Some footage shows the two sometimes climbing into vents, temporarily escaping the cameras.
The woman on the High Endâs back was injured during the fatal showdown at the hospitalâs exit, enraging it to the point where it swiftly killed everyone in its vicinity, including fleeing researchers that were only caught in the crossfire.
Targets escaped facility at 13:09
x---x---x---x---x
Subject: Raptor
SUBJECT HAS ESCAPED. NOMU IS HIGHLY DANGEROUS. TAKE EVERY PRECAUTION IN RETRIEVING IT.
Some things are too good to be true. It turned out that Raptorâs brain has, shall we say, faulty wiring. Several observations have noted him hesitating upon certain commands. This should not be a constant problem with any High End. I donât understand why they did not immediately work on this issue. Itâs possible that they feared irreversible changes to his unique mind.
I personally believe that many of these flaws are the result of a compassionate host. The hero Hawks was unmistakably a gifted combatant, probably the most gifted individual the facility has gotten their hands on, but his attitude did not translate well into the role of a nomu. On the bright side, I never thought Iâd ever see nomu, let alone a High End, show such genuine fondness over a human. I believe itâs worth another try in the future.
But for now, we should stick to what works. There are more than enough lowly criminals to go around.
#Hawks#smut#nomu#noumu#terato#monster fucking#hawks x reader#shh the doctors don't know about shirakumo#happy october?#tw blood#tw death
4K notes
¡
View notes
Text
Vampire/Human AU
(Slight NSFW, angst)
Thinking about vampire HC who owns a vampire-friendly bar with humans who apply as donors to supply fresh blood for vampires willing to pay the expensive prices. When a human with beautiful amber eyes, soft facial features, and blood that smells absolutely delectable, walks in, every vampire whips their heads towards the door. The human approaches one of the staff, YY, to inquire about becoming a donor. HC watches as the enticing morsel follows YY into a room to finalize his application.
Right after the human leaves thirty minutes laterâYY probably having said it would take a few days to find him a matchâHC pulls YY aside, demanding to have a look over the papers the new donor filled out. After a quick scan, HC shoves the papers back to YY with a click of his tongue,
âNo need to find him a match. Heâs mine.â
A human whose blood smells heavenly, who has never been bitten or even nipped by a vampire. HC wants to corrupt him. Ruin him.
The next night, HC has the human, XL, meet him in his personal feeding room. Thereâs a luxurious velvet couch to the side, a pristine glass table with fancy wine and glasses, and a king-sized bed with crimson silk laid upon the mattress.
HC, like most vampires, typically feeds while stimulating their donors. This can be done with something as simple as kissing or full-on intercourse. Not only does this relax the humanâs nerves so they wonât tense up before being bitten, but the toxins injected into their system after being bitten feels incredibly euphoric, serving as a kind of aphrodisiac. Many humans donate their blood in this way for the sole reason of attaining this heightened sense of pleasure.
But as soon as XL enters the room in front of HC, his mind freezes as he sees the bed.
âIâm a virgin,â he blurts out, wide eyes panicked as he looks at the vampire. HC raises his eyebrow, unperturbed.
âWe can work with that.â
XL gulps.
âIâve also never kissed anyone.â
HC runs a tongue along his sharp fangs.
âDo you want to change that?â The vampire asks, walking up behind the human, pressing his chest against XLâs back. HC hears XLâs heart rate pick up at the proposition. Itâs an unspoken yes, though XL also imperceptibly nods his head. He does not see HCâs lips spread into a vicious grin. However, XL does feel lips brush against the shell of his ear, sending shivers down his spine.
âUse your words, precious. Do you want to be kissed? Want to be touched, experience pleasure beyond comprehension?â HC murmurs, skimming his lips across XLâs nape. âI can fuck you too. Push into your little body as I sink my fangs into your neck. Iâd place them right here-â HC taps XLâs jugular, the human jerking to the side with a gasp. â-oh? So sensitive. All the better. I can make you feel so good.â
XLâs breath quickens, ever so slightly leaning back into HCâs tall frame. HC leans forward to catch a glimpse of those doe eyes regarding him with caution. Oh, how he wants to eat this human alive. HC turns XL around by his shoulders. He lowers his head to bump foreheads with XL, forcing the human to look into his red-tinged eyes.
âIs that a yes?â
XL blinks those doe eyes once, then twice.
âYes.â
HC brings his hand up to brush a hair away from the humanâs head.
âWonderful.â
***
XL is at the point in his life when he lost everything. He chose to pursue a career outside of his parentsâ embroidery business despite being expected to take over the shop after college. Abandoning college altogether, XL went off on his own to chase his dream to become a singer.
A few years later, where XL was provinces away from home, XLâs parentsâ business had gone under, devastating them as they could no longer pay for their medical bills. Upon hearing the news, XL rushed back home to take care of them. It seemed they had kept their declining health conditions under wraps. They were too prideful to admit their weakening physical states; they also did not want to guilt XL into giving up on his ambitions to take care of them.
XLâs parents lasted one year before passing away, his father first due to prostate cancer, his mother one month later after succumbing to exhaustion and grief. XL lost their home along with the shop merely a week later, unable to pay off the debt. His parents had used up their savings for their medical expenses and XL had been scraping by as a musician for years. Additionally, there was no one he could confide in. He had lost contact with his friends as he moved from city to city, busking on streets, attempting to catch the attention of music labels.
XL was utterly alone. There were days when not even music could bring an ounce of comfort. However, music was the thing that kept him sane between the various side jobs he managed to pick up to keep him off the streets.
As if the fates decided XL had had enough bad luck for a lifetime, a CEO of a fairly well-known label offered him a business card after a busking session. It was JW of Capital Records who gave XL hope of achieving his dream. XL spent most of his late 20s under the label, training and practicing and producing. He had the chance to record a couple of singles and one mini-albumâwhich he didnât get to participate much in the production sideâbut other than that, XL didnât make it far. He was tremendously overworked and yet, still discarded to the side.
Wondering why he wasnât provided the opportunities other artists received to further their careers, XL scheduled a one-on-one meeting with the CEO to ask what he was lacking. JW had insisted he could give XL more opportunities if XL could offer something more than just his serene vocals and pretty face.
The unspoken suggestion that XL offer up his body pierced his heart with yet another stake. Overwhelming disappointment and betrayal crashed into XL, but perhaps he should have known better that the whole situation was too good to be true. XL vehemently rejected this idea, angering JW who eventually tore XL down to the point of a medical emergency that allowed him to leave the agency without repercussions.
At age thirty-two, XL was left with no family, mental and physical trauma, and a dying will. Ironically enough, the song lyrics heâd written after experiencing so much loss were the closest thing to making music heâd gotten. But in the end, XL still felt like a failure.
Now in Xiâan, XL was left with limited options to earn money for rent. He already worked two part-time jobs in addition to writing musicâthough even time set aside for this has dwindled.
One night, as XL was walking home after closing up the convenience store, he saw the neon lights of the sign âGhost City.â Heâs heard many things about this club and is no stranger to the existence of nonhuman creatures roaming amongst human society. After hours of research, XL decided to apply to become a blood donor. Itâs not like he had a better option that paid more anyway.
XLâs hope to somehow redeem his past actions has all but fizzled out. He doesnât expect a vampire like HC to care about his comfort or consent when feeding, though HC still prioritizes these things for some reason.
XL has never looked at his body and thought about the best ways to pleasure himself. HC shows him how. HC caresses and kisses XL like heâs worth being handled with care; HC also invades XLâs body as a threat to break it, broadcasting a vampireâs strength, speed, and endurance in the bedroom.
XL can go as far as to say he even looks forward to his time with HC. In between a busy work life and dealing with people who would rather look the other way than give him the time of day, XLâs mind and body steadily weaken.
It starts with memory loss, where XL canât clearly remember the conversations heâd had the day before. One of the reasons this develops is because he goes through many days without having anyone to tell about his day. Itâs like the life XL lives is so insignificant, nothing about it is worth remembering.
Then, itâs the lack of eating. Most of XLâs money goes towards rent, essentials, and groceries. But heâs not a great cook. And heâs already drained by the time he gets home after working both jobs and visiting Ghost City. XLâs stress doesnât help, adding to the fatigue that gradually shuts his body down.
While HC might not be able to taste a difference in XLâs blood, he does notice how frail the human moves around. How delayed XL responds, more so than he should beâeven as a human. XL has scheduled more visits: three times a week this time. However, his words become less. He stops telling the little stories that brought a small smile to his face. XL doesnât even mention the songs heâs been working on lately.
HC forces himself to ask about them after an especially rough coupling.
âHowâs the songwriting going, darling?â HC asks quietly. He props his elbow upon his pillow, resting his cheek on his hand as he intently observes the human struggling to catch his breath, eyelids fluttering.
âI havenât written anything new,â XL breathily answers. HC purses his lips. He ducks down to affectionately tongue at the skin his fangs pierced.
âNo? In how long?â HC asks. XL sighs heavily.
âMaybe three weeks.â
HC doesnât know what to say to that. Heâs not one to console anybody. No one had afforded him that luxury, and naturally, he did not grant anyone else his concern. The silence that follows is unbearable.
***
The next time XL visits, heâs the one to initiate their first kiss. HC growls happily against his humanâs lips, pinning him against the closed door of his private room. XL moans obscenely as HC languidly licks into his mouth. His arms desperately wrap around HCâs neck to bring him closer.
âSomeoneâs eager,â HC says with a chuckle as he pulls back. XL instantly attaches his lips to the vampireâs jaw, peppering light kisses along the pale skin. HC canât help but think heâs taught his little human well. XL hums while trailing his lips back to HCâs, capturing them in a kiss thatâs the sweetest one yet.
HC shouldâve noticed how unstable XLâs legs seemed, how dreadful the bags under his eyes looked before indulging in their bedroom activities. He shouldâve kept track all along of how thin XL is, how much more skin and bone he had become. HC is certainly not one to intrude on someone elseâs life and scrutinize all their choices. But he shouldâve said something sooner.
Maybe then, XLâs heart wouldnât have stuttered so violently, or completely stopped beating for five counts.
HC watches in horror as XLâs eyes roll into the back of his head. His humanâs body goes limp in his arms, collapsing into HCâs chest. When XLâs heart beat starts up again, itâs very weak. Thereâs a noticeable abnormality in its rhythm.
HC quickly gathers XL in his arms and speeds to the bed. He sits back against the pillow, placing XL to recline against his front. HC hooks his arms around XLâs middle from behind, anxiously listening to XLâs irregular heartbeat that seems like it takes all of his humanâs energy to pump. Luckily, XL awakens a few minutes later. He registers a cold embrace and warm puffs of breath lingering near his ear.
âDid I pass out?â XL wheezes out, unconsciously melting into the body behind him.
âYes,â HC says tightly. âYour heartbeat is uneven. Something is wrong.â
XL canât tell if heâs imagining it but that sounded like worry in the vampireâs tone.
âOh.â
HC inhales sharply.
âYou just fainted, Xie Lian. Hell, your heart just stopped for a few seconds, and all you have to say is âoh?ââ HC grinds out.
So he is upset. XL swallows thickly, not wanting to escalate things and further upset the vampire.
âItâs okay,â XL says. âIâm okay-â
âNo. Youâre not,â HC interrupts.
XL takes a deep breath, wincing slightly as HC tightens his arms around his hips. Heâs more sensitive than normal, XL realizes. Before XL can defend himself further, HC grasps XLâs chin and turns his head to face the vampire.
âYouâre hiding something from me,â he states. He hears XLâs heart speed up. âThereâs no use in lying. I can tell youâve grown weaker since you first came.â
âWell, I have been donating my blood to a certain vampire for a few months now. Iâm bound to be a bit weak in my legs,â XL replies as a matter of factly. He means to poke fun at the situation rather than acknowledge the severity of it. HC knows this because heâs done it numerous times himself. But when XL does it, it makes HCâs blood boil.
âAre you saying I am causing this- this deterioration in your health?â HC asks tensely. XL lets out a gasp, whirling around in HCâs arms, immediately backpedaling.
âNo! No, not at all.â
HCâs eyes assess his human who trembles slightly in his arms. He cradles XL in between his legs, hands shifting XL further up his body so he can rest his head on HCâs chest. HC gently pets XLâs hair, an action that was uncharacteristic of him months ago, before XL had walked through the entrance of his bar.
XL gently smiles in an attempt to placate the vampire.
HCâs eyes flash a frightening scarlet.
âI donât believe you.â
XLâs face crumples.
âItâs true! Iâve just been really busy is all. Work has been hectic and- and-â gone is the innocence that HC once saw in XLâs doe eyes, instead replaced by stress and utter brokenness that alarms the vampire to no end. A voice in the back of HCâs head snarls that those emotions had always been behind XLâs eyes; they were simply better hidden, and HC had been too lust-driven to notice.
XL continues his rambling, frantically shaking his head. â-I took some extra shifts because I needed the money to pay for some water damage that flooded half my apartment. Iâm fineâtruly.â
If HC had a beating heart, it would have dropped down to his stomach at the sudden realization. His fingers dig into the paper-thin skin of XLâs hips, then trace up the bony knobs of his spine.
âYouâre not eating right.â
âWait- S-san Lang-â
The nickname HC had asked XL to call him is hurdled back into his face like a stone aimed to shatter. It sounds like a cry for help.
âAnd youâre not getting enough sleep,â HC concludes with a disapproving frown. His eyes now glow a deep crimson, matching the silken sheets that HC ensures are in perfect condition every time XL visits.
âFuck, XIE LIAN, you know you need proper nutrition and rest to recover from each night you spend with me!â HC is nearly shouting now, voice wavering out of his control. Who knew another creature could make him feel so strongly?
âI-I am!â
âI SAID NOT TO LIE TO ME. I CAN TELL WHEN YOUâRE NOT BEING HONEST,â HC explodes, spatting those words with a poison that he often uses with uncooperative subordinates, but never directed at XL before.
Tears glisten in XLâs eyes as heâs cornered with no way out, no relief from the building pressure that suffocates him. Right now, after everything XL has been through, this seems to be his tipping point. He never expected HC to care this much. Or perhaps HC is just concerned his reliable supply of blood is flaking out on him, just when heâs had a feasible taste.
XL is sure HC has plenty of other donors to feed on. Itâs not like XL is particularly special in that way. Frankly speaking, XL had time and time again asked the universe to give him one last sign that his life mattered in some capacity. But if he couldnât see the value in his own life, who else could?
XL scrambles off from HCâs lap, allowing himself to speak with the deep-seated spite that has grown in his heart like an untamable weed.
âTHEREâS NO NEED TO GET SO WORKED UP OVER MY HEALTH!! IâLL BE GONE SOON ANYWAY! THE DOCTOR GAVE ME THREE MORE MONTHS,â XL screams, having to catch his breath after exerting so much power into his voice. âSo there. You have my answer. Iâm not lying this time. Just one a couple more months and then- then you wonât have to deal with my shit anymore, okay?â
HC canât move. He canât speak either. The shock taking over his system renders his mind and body completely useless. He can only stare blankly at XL whose tears now cascade down his cheeks. Â
No, this cannot be happening-
XLâs whimpers pull HC out of his head. The human hugs his own frail body, shivering from a coldness that does not exist in the room.
How did HC let it get so bad?
âIâm sick, San Lang. Very, very sick. Not just physically,â XL whispers defeatedly, letting out a small hiccup.
HC doesnât hesitate to surge forward to throw his arms around XL, hugging him once more. Itâs a habit nowâto hold XL whenever he could. Now, HC wonders how many more times he would get this chance before it was inevitably the last.
âXie LianâŚâ
âIâm sorry. Iâm so so sorry. I donât know whatâs wrong with me. I-I just canât eat. Sometimes from stress, other times I completely forget. And I want to rest, but I end up laying in bed awake for hours a-and my mind just wonât let me sleep-â
For the first time in over a decade, there is someone else to hear XLâs agonized wails.
âPlease believe me, San Lang. Please."
#tgcf#heaven official's blessing#tian guan ci fu#hualian#hualian au#cerdrabbles#xie lian#hua cheng#human xie lian#vampire hua cheng#sorry it's rushed
86 notes
¡
View notes
Text
Michael Myers x Doctor! Reader | The Check-Up
behold, a drabble that went on for 1500 words too long.
synopsis: you are a doctor at smithâs grove administering the patientâs monthly physical exams. your next patient is michael. sadly, there is no world where this ends pleasantly for you.
contains: gender-neutral reader, michael being a toying asshole and giving the reader a nasty scare.
The exam room is small and drab, too intimate a space for work to happen comfortably. Its walls are not thick enough to dampen the noise of shuffling feet and voices passing by outside, and occasionally, the strident yelling of an upset patient will cut above the murmur, making you drum your fingers against the steel countertop with a renewed fervor.
On your sheet, half way down the list, the name is printed innocuously there in blue ink:
M. Myers.
You take a deep breath in and let it out slowly; it does not calm your nerves. Since you relinquished your last patient, the unease has been twisting in your gut like you swallowed a whole eel. Now, it feels almost determined to come back up.
Itâs only a physical, you reason. The guards will be right outside. Heâll be restrained.
And such things might have been a comfort, if only âM. Myersâ was still just a name on a list with a gruesome reputation to precede him. You are not fortunate enough for that to be the case; you have worked with Myers before. You know what he is like.
Your eyes flit to the clock on the wall while your fingers tap tap tap away on the counter. The guards have been gone eight minutes now. Some patients make a fight out of it every time they are taken from their rooms, requiring transport around the sanitarium in wheelchairs fit with heavy leather straps. Not Myers. In all your time employed at Smithâs Grove Sanitarium, you have never heard of one such related incident involving Myers. He lets himself be escorted without a fuss.
The incidents only happen after he gets to where heâs going.
It is not another full minute before there is a knock at the door.
âIâm ready,â you say promptly. The handle twists to the side. The door opens.
Four guards bring him in, double the standard patient security detail.
They lead him to the exam table while you thumb through your drawer for his file. In the corner of your eye, you watch him sit. One guard produces a key ring. The guard squats. Shortly, you hear the resounding metal âclickâ of a lock turning into place.
âAlright,â the guard says, standing. âAllâs good over here.â After some consideration, he adds, âWant us to stick around for this one?â
âNo, but thank you,â you tell him, pulling out the file. âI trust you did your job.
âYou sure?â
âYes.â
The guards leave the room, one by one.
âHoller if he gives you any trouble,â the last guard states, closing the door behind him.
The silence in their stead is woeful and everything within it altogether too loud. The clock on the wall ticks. Your stool squeaks sharply when you sit upright. The open drawer screeches as you push it shut.
And you can hear him breathing.
Your heart should not be racing already but it is. You suppose it isnât too late to call the guards back in, but in the end, it wouldnât matter much; if Myers is determined to toy with you, he will. Their presence will not deter him.
Clipboard in hand, you swivel on your stool, and face him.
Myers sits atop the paper-sheeted table with an attentive posture. He wears his usual white patientâs garb, canvas pants and a cotton shirt, the latter too tight around the breadth of his shoulders. Short metal cuffs link his wrists closely to his waist. His ankle has been chained to the chipping grey tile; and, despite the elevation of the table, his feet touch the floor with ease.
Alarmingly, he is staring right back at you.
Ice-blue eyes consider you steadily. No hint of emotion occupies his face. The look is somehow effortless, and you are reminded of how a housecat might regard a person of mild interest, intrigued enough by the happenings to observe, but caring not to involve itself furtherâyet.
Your throat tightens. There have been times during these check-ups where Myers feigns detachment, pretending wholly as if he doesnât care. Not today. Already, he is casually toying with you.
Your eyes fall to your clipboard as you stand from your stool, eager for an excuse to cast your gaze away from him.
âIâll be administering a quick check up today,â you say, depositing your pen in your breast pocket. âWeight, heart rate, blood pressure, nothing invasive.â It is all you can manage if you are to maintain some air of professionalism. Your voice has already begun to thin.
The physicianâs scale rests against the wall beside the exam table, wholly too close to Myers for your liking. You feel his eyes following you across the room as you go and stand next to it. Adrenaline surges in your veins at the proximity.
âStand here, please,â you say, eyes fixed on your clipboard, as though very much involved in your work, and very much not falling prey to your patientâs lingering stare.
For a beat of time that stretches on into discomfort, nothing happens. Michaelâs breathing fills the room. You do not look up from your sheet. He doesnât budge an inch in your periphery. It is as if you had not spoken at all, only imagined it. Perhaps he didnât hear you. Perhaps heâs decided not to cooperate.
The instructions are almost past your lips a second time when Michael stands. His weight shifts fluidly onto his feet, almost soundlessly, were it not for the clank of his ankle restraint hitting the floor. The scale creaks as he steps onâthe length of chain allows it, barely. Your breathing is far from measured now. While you slide the weights along the top of the scale you grip your clipboard tremendously tight.
It is a strange and terrible thing, you think, to exist next to a body that has taken so many lives. Would you lose your job if you were to obey the way your feet seem to want to charge as fast as you are able out of this room? Why, the situation doesnât seem ethical; your higher-ups, the doctors, the psychologists, all know what dreadful acts Michael is capable of; are you seriously expected to treat this man as though heâs just the next patient on your sheet?
A series of terrible things occur to you all at once; If Michael wanted to, even in his chains, he could hurt you very easily. It is by the mere fact of the building surrounding him that he has not.
Contained in this place, to harm you is to tighten his own restraints. Michael knows this. He knows the keys to the castle must be attained through docility, or at least an act of it, which he is very good at faking. Whether he believes the game is eligible for a second round, now, with so much fresh blood on his hands, he is going to play. In fewer words; only by the grace of brick and cement are you allowed to exist within an armâs length of this man, and still keep breathing.
On your sheet, you scribble a barely legible 210 lbs in the blank white space next to âpatient weightâ. In a retreating voice you ask Myers to please sit back down on the table. He decides instead to linger next to you first, broadening his chest with a few more steady breaths; after that, he sits.
The stethoscopes are stored in the stainless steel cabinets above your desk. You set down your clipboard as you dig for one, trying all the while not to think the unthinkableâyou have to touch your patient now. You have to touch Michael.
Stethoscope in hand, eyes fixed to a point on the floor for the sake of your own sanity, you drag your stool across the room, its one stuck wheel screeching across the linoleum.
You settle your stool inches away from Myers and put on your best mask of doctorly calm.
âLooking good so far,â you say, not believing that Michael is actually paying attention to your words, only speaking because it seems the comfortable thing to do. âI need to listen to your heart next, so please, donât move.â
Michaelâs towering body doesnât budge a muscle in response to your new proximity. He continues to breathe in and out, chest expanding beneath his too-tight shirt, and you can see the individual muscles of his torso rising and contracting, ribs filling out, pectorals broadening, their outline obvious beneath his meager layer of clothing.
You install the buds of your stethoscope in both ears and reach out with your dominant hand toward his chest, pressing the circular tool just above his heart.
Lub-dub. Lub-dub. Lub-dub. The pounding echoes in your skull. You can feel it beating up through his coiled muscle, throbbing so adamantly beneath your touch that you can see his pulse lifting your fingers up and down, up, down, a power which you try to ignore by filling your thoughts with numbers, counting the beats as your task demands.
Touching Michael is nearly unbearable by the fiftieth second. You withhold your heavy swallow as you shove away from him, wheeling back to the safety of the counter where your sheet rests, jotting in his results, which are incredible, but nothing short of expectedâMichael has the resting heart rate of a trained athlete.
As you ink in his results in the empty box, it occurs to you that he must be getting some sort of pleasure out of this. Some carnal need of his is gratified by the symptoms of your uneaseâthe miserable tension in your voice, the fact you cannot look him in the eye. Michael is devouring all of it.
You feel suddenly very faint as you reach again above the counter, this time taking a hand light from the cabinets. Two more empty boxes remain unfilled on your sheet; two more tests to administer. Half way done. You suppose that fact should help settle your nerves, but it doesnât. Instead, a different angle on the matter takes form in your head; a whole half way in, and Myers is still pretending as if heâs only going to sit there and watch.
You leave your clipboard on the counter this time, because it canât save you. To perform this next part you are going to have to bite the bullet and look Myers in the face.
Distressingly, his expression has not budged a bit. His cold eyes are still upon you.
Keeping your concern off your face seems a losing battle now. You know Michael can detect it in the tightness of your features as you roll your stool across the room, and perhaps you imagined the oh-so-faint dilation of his functioning pupil as you approached, and perhaps you didnât.
âI just need you to follow this light for me.â You tell Michael, brandishing the hand light in front of you.
His eyes, or you suppose the one good one, survey the thin silver tool in your hand. Nothing on his face changes. He looks back up at you within three beats of your racing heart, apparently ready to comply.
Your thumb meets the little button on the side of the light and it illuminates a harsh circle on his pale cheek. A flick of your wrist aligns it with your target. Michaelâs pupil contracts to a pin-point. He obliges your instructions, tracking the light as you move it left, then right, his reflexes behaving beautifully, flawlessly, in factâŚ
...and you are still contemplating the flawlessness of Michaelâs pupillary reflexes when it occurs to you that he is no longer following the light. Instead, he is staring at your face.
You remember seeing tigers hunting on a nature show. You remember that head down, fixed-eyed look, a predatorâs unbreakable concentration. That is how Myers is staring at you.
Terror rolls through you, gripping your heart in a cold fist. It makes you smaller and smaller until you feel like turning on your heel and sprinting for the door, away from this ruthless predator, because Myers is so obviously that.
âFollow the light, please.â You barely squeeze the words past your constricting vocal chords. Michael does not follow the light. He looks at you with that same deadly gaze, the darkness spreading to overtake his whole face.
You recoil from him like youâve been shot.
His cuffed hand shoots out. Chain links rattle as he seizes your elbow. A gasp leaves your throat at the horrible pressure of his fingers digging into bone.
Very quietly, you tell him to let you go.
Michael doesnât. His hand continues to grip your arm as if cemented there. He meets your eyes with a piercing look that says you are about to die.
Suddenly, the fact of the sanitarium walls surrounding you no longer matter. Your world swings sickeningly sideways. You know only one thing; Michael is going to murder you on the spot.
Tears cascade freely down your face. His grip hurts but the fear hurts worse. You tell him you are going to call in the guards. Michael, unperturbed, holds you, just watching, perhaps even daring you to.
âPlease let go.â You are pleading with him now. Pleading with a murderer. Pleading with the monster that has already decided your fate.
The very moment before you raise your voice to scream for the guards, Michael does let go. His hand comes free and you spill to the floor with a yelp, knocking over medical supplies on the counter which clatter loudly as they fall. The doors swing open. The four guards step in.
Michael sits innocuously on the exam table as you heave and tremble on the floor. By all accounts, it would appear as though youâve fallen due to your own clumsiness.
One of the guards rushes to your side to help you to your feet. You insist in a tight, quivering voice that you are fine; that you only tripped. You spit out that you have everything you need from Myers, and if they would please take him away, and bring in the next patient, that would be excellent.
Michael is still watching you as the guards begin to unlock his ankle cuff. You cannot bear to return his stare. Bending down, you start to pluck a tray of spilled cotton swabs off the floor, trying to occupy your shaking hands, but even long after the guards have removed Myers from the room, your hands refuse to stop their trembling.
#Michael Myers#michael myers x reader#halloween#slashers#writing#horror#fanfiction#dead by daylight#reader insert#slasher x reader
580 notes
¡
View notes
Text
effortlessly, the epilogue (m) || jjk & reader
title: effortlessy, the epilogue pairing: jungkook x reader word count: 5.6k genre: the after high school :) + my infamous poorly written smut a/n: itâs shorter than intended but... itâs out guys! because someone asked me when I planned on posting this and I thought that IÂ was the only one who cared about this epilogue. ;u; Thanks for mentioning it to me, because it motivated me to write it again. Enjoy! series masterlist can be found here
"I want to take care of the planet like Greta Thunberg!"
"Noooo, wouldn't you want to be something cooler? Like a soccer player? How about Lionel Messi?"
"Forget soccer! I want to do something even better... make computers like Steve Jobs!"
One of the children frowns, shoulders slouching in disappointment and frustration of his classmates. Leaning down, you brush away the bangs that cover his eyes, gently pinching his chubby cheeks full of love and care. "What's wrong, Jaemin?"
"I don't want to be like Greta Thunberg or Lion Messi or Steve Work!" He exclaims, arms thrown in the air.Â
"It's Lionel Messi and Steve Jobs, Jaemin!"
"Okay, okay," You say soothingly, hands cupping and thumbs rubbing against the flesh of his cheeks delicately. "That's fine, Jaemin, you don't have to be like those people if you don't want to. You can choose whatever profession you want, and whomever you want it to be like."Â
"I want to be a swimmer, like Jeon Jungkook!"
"Mm," You hum, tapping your finger against your chin as if you're pondering about Jaemin's idea. "You could, if you'd like. Have you ever met Jeon Jungkook before?"
"No," He pouts, his bottom lip jutting out in dismay. "But momma showed me videos of hyung online and he seems like a very kind person." Nodding, your hands fall into the ones of Jaemin's, swaying your arms together to calm his nerves. Children tend to be very emotional, you learn after the many years of experience with them, and Jaemin is no exception. Finding ways to tame their anxiousness was the true challenge. "Want to hear a secret?"
His eyes widen as large as the cartoons he watches on TV. "Yes! What's the secret?"
Pretending to glance out to confirm that the coast is clear and that the other children had walked away to find something more interesting to direct their attention to, you whisper into Jaemin's ear. "Jeon Jungkook was my best friend."
Jaemin gasps. "No way. Your friend? Are you just saying that to me so I can feel better?" Yes, is what you really wanted to tell him, but truth to be told, you weren't lying. Kids were incredibly smart for even noticing that adults would say things to water down the situation, but you weren't just saying anything. "Of course not. Jungkook and I go way back, way before he became a professional swimmer. I used to go to all his practices, hung out with him after them, and even attended classes with him... just like you're in one right now!"
"Do you think... Do you think you can ask Jungkook hyung to come visit us? Maybe? If you're still friends with him..." He drifts, the thought of not being able to see his hero weighing down on his shoulders again. "I'll see what I can do," Standing from where you've been crouching, you ruffle Jaemin's hair with a soft sigh escaping your lips. "Now go play with the other kids. Remember, you can be whoever you want, and everyone else can be whoever they want as well."
Right before the clock hits 3:00PM, you verify that all the little kids are geared up in their beanies, puffer jackets, shoes, and some with gloves, in preparation for their parents' arrival. When the doors open and the children line up, leaving one by one, their nose and cheeks tint pink at the harsh winds, shivering yet at the same time cheering in glee when they see their guardians pull up.Â
Watching the smiles on their faces reminds you of the time that you hated the winter; brisk air smacking your cheeks in pain, freezing your face in position, fingers stiff from being exposed to the outside, and constant shaking just to warm yourself up in a clownery large winter coat. Yet, this time around, you find yourself fond of the weather, the thought of being able to spend time with your loved ones approaching and activities that could only be done during this specific season.Â
"Ready to head out?" One of your co-workers asks, just as bundled up as you are, learning your lesson after leaving without a jacket that wasn't thick enough before a day ago. "Yeah, I am. Let me just get my purse first, Naeun."
It's a constant cycle everyday: swipe your transit pass onto the bus, get off, walk an obscene amount of distance, if it's a good day then you'd stop for coffee, get to school, and prep for the day before calling the students in to take attendance, then that's when the teaching starts.Â
But something about today feels great, despite the snow falling from the sky that nearly has you slipping on the ice from lack of attention to anything in front of you. So, you grab something hot. After all, what's better than a cup of hot chocolate in the morning right before you're stuck in a classroom full of twenty first-graders?
Following your medium sized peppermint hot chocolate (you're rather quite enamored that you're able to find a peppermint flavor because it's your favorite), hopping out of the coffee shop with glee, you're ready to be on route to work again.
Then someone obnoxiously honks their horn.
You show no regard to this, mostly because it makes no sense to. Someone who's driving a flashy neon yellow Porsche is already gaining all the unnecessary attention in the first place, and you're not really in the mood to be categorized within that population.Â
But the beeping doesn't stop.
Oddly enough, it actually feels like the car is following you. Sweating profusely, you're debating whether or not to glance to see who the driver is. Just then, your phone dings.
jeon jungkook [6:57AM]: i've been trying to get you to turn around for the past 10 minutes, could you please stop walking faster? at this rate you're going to be a runner?
Instantaneously, you stop in the midst of your steps, sharply twisting on your heel to see the owner of the flamboyant vehicle. There he was, with the driver's side window rolled down, exposing those pearly white teeth of his, paired with a grin that stretched from ear to ear.
Typical.
"Jeon Jungkook, fancy meeting you here."
"Not really fancy if I had to check your location services to see where you've been. It's not fun being ignored, love." He has his arm rested on the opening, watching as you purse your lips and bounce on the tips of your toes. "Mm, wonder why that is."
"Don't be like that," He frowns, chin sitting on his arm. "Come, I'll drive you to work. Maybe we can talk along the way."
"I'm not really in the mood to talk to you at seven in the morning, Jeon."
"Please?" He begs, pools of brown that match the liquid in your cup and the sweetness it entails. Just his voice alone was warm, shooting into your chest and you're trying to convince yourself that it's the drink, not him. "Fine." You respond through your gritted teeth, rounding the hood of the car to enter the passenger seat.
Jungkook looks so happy he could burst.
On the ride to work, you don't talk. He speaks casually, sharing stories about his adventures, ones that you don't really want to hear about or was it that his current attire that's causing your mind to get fuzzy? Baby blue dress shirt with just a couple of the buttons let loose, tucked into those dark grey slacks that hug his thighs so well, that you needed to avert your eyes or else he'd see you checking him out.
He does in fact, to the point that he needs to hide the smirk that dangles on his lips, but he refrains himself because getting you to forgive him is a difficult task alone, and teasing you wouldn't get him anywhere.Â
"Pull up here," You demand when he's driving by the perimeter of the building. "You don't need to drive into the yard. I don't need the teachers thinking I'm hanging out with someone driving a construction safety yellow car."
Jungkook is admittingly disappointed, hoping that he gets more time with you but he did choose a work day to meet you. "Can I see you after this?" He's suddenly bashful after approaching you confidently earlier, no semblance of high school Jungkook hinted in his personality anymore. "I don't know. Maybe. We'll see." With that, you slip out the car, greeting the parents that you pass by, sharing that beaming smile that he was wishing was for him instead. You're prettiest when you're workingâthe way you're talking to your students as they begin to line up to enter class, tapping their noses with your drink in hand, drowning in your oversized coat. You seem at your happiest, suddenly regretting his recent absence from your life.
Reminiscing back to the time of when you didn't know what you wanted to do with your life, where you wanted to go, and who you wanted to be were questions that were constantly thrown up in the air. He recalls those nights where he'd hear your whimpers through the wall between the bedroom and the living room, sitting at the coffee table in frustration while he prepped for bed. Life had been a crazy journey for the both of you, especially when he had gotten invited to pursue in other work opportunities.Â
You're thankful when you leave work that day and don't spot the rubber duck colored car anywhere near the schoolyard, yet at the same time, slightly despondent that he didn't return. "You look down," Naeun points out, nose peeking from her scarf with her hands dug deep into the pockets of her jacket. "Expecting someone?"
"Kind of, not really," You confess, letting out a heavy sigh with water vapor in the air. "But not surprised anyways."
"Does it have anything to do with a cheddar cheese looking car?"
Choking on your saliva, you attempt to clear your throat at her recognition. "How'd... you know it had to do with a yellow car?"
She leans over, gesturing in the direction behind you with her chin. "Other than the fact that it's hard to miss a car that bright in the morning, you coming out of it is also attention grabbing. Plus, he's over there, parked in the corner with a swarm of little kids around him."
Flinching, you look in her direction, the sight of Jungkook seated on the hood of his ridiculous vehicle, uncomfortably bending over to reach the height of the flock of little children with their parents, signing autographs and exchanging words with them.
You can't tell if it's cute or making your blood boil.
When you walk over to him with Naeun by your side, he looks up with that annoying smile on his face again. "Jeon Jungkook."Â
"See, Jaemin? She does know me." Jungkook teases, messing up the little boy's hair. Jaemin has a look on his face that screams nothing but elation, spilling with happiness that couldn't be fulfilled until he met his idol, Jungkook, the Olympian swimmer. "You were right! He is your best friend!"
"I said was, but you get the point." Jungkook jerks up, quickly shuffling to dip his head in the window opening of his car, pulling out a drink, handing it to you. "Would someone who was your friend get you your favorite drink?"
In a medium Starbucks cup, there's an iced cold brew with cold foam sitting on topâa drink that you had grown attached and addicted to in your first year of University, ordering it so frequently on the daily that you had to wean yourself off it. "Cold brew," You clarify, taking the drink gleefully. "I guess you remembered."
Naeun extends her hand at Jungkook, requesting a shake. "Oh my god, Jeon Jungkook, I'm a big fan. I heard that you were recently sponsored by Nikeâcrazy! Sheâ" She's referring to you with a glare "ânever mentioned that she was friends with a professional swimmer!"
"Didn't think it was important," You add, swirling before taking a sip of the liquid gold. "Knowing someone who swam for your country's Olympic team isn't usually brought up in an everyday conversation."
She rolls her eyes as Jungkook gifts her a warm handshake, hands deep into the pockets of his jeans. He's dressed for comfort, this afternoon as opposed to this morning, and you're curious of his schedule yet you don't ask. "Kids, time to go home, don't leave your parents waiting." You dismiss the children who whine in reaction. "But we want to talk to Jungkook!"
"I'll be back tomorrow!" He confirms, and they run away in excitement, earning a groan from you. "Tomorrow? You're actually expecting to be back tomorrow?"
"Why? You don't want to see me?"
"Jungkook, why are you even back?" You exasperate, fingers running through your tangled locks. Jungkook is starting to frustrate you and all you want to do is go home and snuggle under the covers while watching a movie while possibly grading some papers. "What's the point of all this?"
He pouts, an arm snaking around your waist to pull your frame close. "I literally came to see my girlfriend and all she does is push me away. Isn't that crazy, Naeun? The girl of my dreams agreed to date me then she pretends that I don't even exist."
Jaw dropped, Naeun can't even formulate a sentence with the new information. "I know what you're going to say next, 'why didn't youâ'"
"Why didn't you tell me you had a boyfriend this entire time? Why didn't you even mention that it was Jungkook! You just faked the entire time that you weren't with someone while I was tricking you into going on datesâ"
"You set her up with guys?" Jungkook's brows furrowed at Naeun before looking down at you. "You let her set you up with guys?"
"I didn't go to any of those dates she organized," You mention, bringing the drink to your lips again, truly the only thing that calms your nerves despite the chaos unfolding in front of you. "I vaguely said I wasn't interested."
"You could've just said that you had a boyfriend!"
"Well, you weren't around to prove it, so did it really matter?" Shrugging your shoulders, you escape from his grasp to drag the zipper of your jacket up higher. "Anyways, I'm out. Get home safe, Naeun, let me know how it goes with that mechanic guy tonight." Tugging up your sleeve for a better view of your watch, you nod. "My bus is coming soonâ"
"âI'm literally standing right here and you're still going to take the bus?"
"I'm going to take this as my cue to leave..." Naeun chimes in, quickly waving goodbye. "I'll see you tomorrow then, Jungkook-ssi?" And he nods in return, watching as she walks away.
"I can't believe you would just waltz in here like you can do whatever you want." You hiss, nearly squeezing the cup in your hand but the cold brew inside is too valuable to let go to waste. "This is my workplace, not my house."
"I would go to your house if I knew where it was. You turned off your location yesterday."
"Maybe you shouldn't have outed yourself the first time, then you would've known." He moans, pushing his hair away from his face. The length has grown tremendously since the last time you saw him, reaching his chin with the ends curling into the shapes of his eyes when he's gleaming with a grin. "Why are you making things so difficult for the both of us?"
"I'm not." You respond nonchalantly, blinking blankly at the man before you.Â
Jungkook tugs on your arm. "Then let me take you home, to our home, really, since you decided that you wanted to move out without me here when the lease ended."
"I told you I didn't want to live where stalkers were standing outside my place."
"And I told you that you should call the bodyguard my company said they'd provide for you. Why didn't you call? Why didn't you tell me?"
Truthfully, you didn't want to go through the complications of the process of getting someone to consistently watch over you on a daily basisâit was easier to just up and leave, find somewhere else to reside instead of getting attacked by his fans. "It was too complex," allowing him to pull you in between his open legs as he rests on the hood of his car. "Plus, why would I want to ask help from a guy who wouldn't even come home for our anniversary? Easier to leave instead of being disappointed all the time."
The edges of his mouth drops. "Don't say it like that. I had to work, or else I would've taken the first flight back home. All the opportunities just so happen to be in the States."
"Go live there then, you don't need to come back. It's convenient for you to find a place there anyway."
"I'm not leaving you, idiot." He counters back, irritated that you're even making such suggestions. "I told you this every single time we meet again, every phone-call, every facetime. I won't move unless it's with you." The look in his eyes is hypnotizing mixed along with his words, swaying you into his direction unless you shake your head from the thoughts, stepping back. "Fine. Drive me home, whatever. Your stuff is still there anyways. I guess you still somewhat live with me."
Jungkook takes this as a victory.
In all honesty, he loves the idea of a domestic relationship. Jungkook loves having to wake up in the morning with you sleeping on the other side of the bed, corners of your eyes filled with dry boogers that'll probably hurt when you decide to get up, and brushing your teeth together, side by side, shoving each other just to be able to spit in the tiny little sink in the apartment. He argues that he could help pay for a better place, but you reject him regardless, wanting to stay in a more affordable place, one where you can go halfsies on.
He misses watching you hover over the stove, obnoxiously monitoring whatever it is you're cooking for dinner, only for him to call you out and take over instead. Or when you're doing work on the floor with your papers and laptop sprawled across the coffee table, leaning back when your shoulders get tired, resting in between his legs with your back against the body of the couch.Â
So on the route of driving you home, thatâs all he can think about as you sit in silence.Â
This was definitely not the plan.Â
Parked in the garage of your apartment complex, the fluorescent lights donât do a good job of piercing through the tinted windows of Jungkookâs car, which youâre super thankful for despite the obnoxious primary color he chooses. The steam fills the glass, hand pressed against the armrest on the door as youâre panting heavily, an uneven match with Jungkookâs. He has a grip on both your ass and hips, guiding as youâre grinding yourself on him, wishing to be closer than you already were.
How he has you out of your jeans is unknown. Your jackets have already been throat into the some-what backseat, your dress shirt unbuttoned with your breasts spilling from your nude bra, and his shirt is hiked up just enough to catch a glimpse of his abs. Swimming requires him to keep his body in shape and thereâs no complaint from you on that.
Mouth opened, he let out a groan, feeling your tightness around his cock that made a drop of sweat fall from his forehead. âFuck,â He curses, the sight of you in front of him clenches his heart. Jungkook thinks youâre so pretty under this lightâ even prettier than when he knew you in high school, itâs like the longer he knows you, the more infatuated he is. When you gyrate your hips aggressively, he suddenly canât take it anymore, hands trailing up your spine, pushing you down against his chest before he digs his feet into the carpeted floors, hips piston up into you.Â
The new angle has your stomach in knots, a soft gasp falling from your lips that only encourages him to go harder. âCan you come like this?âÂ
âTouch me,â You respond, and it comes out nearly as a whine but youâre too busy being fogged up by pleasure to even care. âJeon, please,â Begging at this point, he slips himself between the two of you, thumb rubbing against the bud as your grip on his shoulders clasp firms, lips against the flesh of his neck.Â
âYouâre going to come now, arenât you?âÂ
The way he says it hints an arrogant smirk, one youâre bothered with but youâre in the middle of something currently. Itâs rhetorical, to him, because your pussy is convulsing around his dick that heâs almost reaching his limit yet he waits for you patiently. âIâm gonnaââ
âLet go, baby,â He manages to say through a heave, your eyes tightly shut closed before you reach your orgasm; a melodic moan finally releasing into his ears that heâs been expecting all night, one that youâve been holding back to showcase that youâre still mad at him. Jungkook couldnât careâ well, just right now, since he has his dick in you, thrusting away until he hits his own orgasm, ropes of cum coating your swollen pink walls.
Youâve grown limp against his body, nose snuggled into the crook of his neck, breathing heavy but slowed from previously. He misses having you like this, bare and close to him, skin feeling light from post-sex. âI love you,â He hums, pressing a gentle kiss on your shoulder. âLetâs get you cleaned up?â
Nodding, you barely have the strength to push yourself off his body, but he doesnât let go of the grip he has around your mid-frame anyways, sliding the back of the seat up to straighten yourselves. Leaning over to the glove compartment, he snatches a couple tissues before slipping his limp dick out of you, wiping away your mixed come.Â
When he eventually has the both of you dressed, you lead him into the building, in the elevator and up to the floor of your apartment, cheeks still tinted rosy from the act in the car. Jungkook doesnât mind it though, he thinks itâs cute that youâre embarrassed.
If this is what itâs going to be like foreverâ the warmth that you give, despite the words that come from your mouth, the affection and care that you distribute just for him, and the newfound confidence youâve discovered during college that youâre not afraid of showing him... he wants it. Forever.
âMm, so youâre telling me that you still fucked him even though you said that you were mad at him?âÂ
Yura is adorable with her little bakerâs hat on, working endlessly in the kitchen of her new bakery that she decided to open in Seoul after graduating culinary school. Luckily for you, itâs close enough to your apartment that you found yourself stopping by to visit frequently, stealing the goods that donât make it out to the display fridge.
â... Possibly. I donât know. I couldnât help itâ I didnât get dicked down in forever. And no, donât talk about using the dildo you gave me last year, I havenât even touched the thing.â
âWhat? Nothing in comparison to Jungkookâs meaty, girthyââ
âOh my god, please donât continue that sentence,â You wince, palm against your forehead. âIt was good, alright? I mean, sure, I finished myself off when Iâm alone but yesterday, in the carââ
âYou hoeâ you didnât only give your vagina to him, but you gave it to him in the car? You couldnât even wait, could you? And what now, is he living back at the apartment?â
âI mean... he said he didnât get a hotel because he wanted to sleep in his own bed again...â
Yura laughs, clapping her hands in amusement as the powder hits her face. âYouâre so funny, you know that? Why do you keep playing this charade when you could just... let him back in?â
You sigh, plopping your body down onto the stool by the counters, elbows against the floured tops. Truthfully, caving into all the mistakes Jungkook made was something too common from you, wishing that he wasnât good with his words and affectionate whenever heâs around you. He missed an anniversary, a 6th year anniversary, and from what you read on the forums online, itâs one of those years where relationships start to get bumpy.
âI justâ I donât want to be easy, you know? I let him get away with everything, and itâs not fair that heâs all the way in the States, doing whatever it is heâs doing, while Iâm here, watching twenty to thirty little kids everyday. And I canât tell him to stop what heâs doing because wellâ itâs his dream, Yura, who am I to stop him?â
âYou donât,â She responds sharply, glaring at you through her floured lashes. âYou shouldâve gotten on a plane to the States. Itâs your anniversary, as in both you and Jungkook. Itâs not his designated job to come here when itâs an anniversary to celebrate the both of you.â
There she goes again, even 6 years later after high school, Yura exhibits the realities of a situation, especially the ones that youâre in.Â
âI guess...â You say faintly, slowly reaching your surrender.Â
âNo guessing. Please leave and go look for him. Tell him that youâre sorry, that youâre not going to be a big baby anymore. Youâve been with him for six years, and no matter how mad you get at him, heâs always coming back for more and attempting to make it up to you. Also, itâs 6:30AM... shouldnât you already be on your way to work?â
âOh, right, fuck, okay, thanks, Yura!â Jolting out of the bakery, youâre practically running to the school when you halt in your route at the sight of the familiar neon yellow car thatâs parked on the school yard, yet again.
âIâm Jeon Jungkook, and Iâm on South Koreaâs Menâs Swim Team. Iâm training for 800M Freestyle Swim again, and possibly, maybe, planning to retire soon.â
Retire? The word that slips from Jungkookâs mouth is unfamiliar, mostly because he had never discussed this with you before, causing you to furrow your brows in perplexity at him as he stands in front of the black chalkboard in your classroom full of children.Â
âI actually lived next door to your lovely teacher here, and we grew up together. She even coached me early in my years since I didnât have anyone with credentials to show me. We both used to stare at the computer, day and night, renting videos from the library, and spending most of our time together just so that we could improve on my skills...â As Jungkook babbles on to the students, Naeun nudges you in the stomach.
âWhat?â You hiss in a whisper. Softly, she responds, âYou never told me any of this! I thought we were friends! Youâve been hiding from me that youâre dating an Olympian and that you guys knew each other since you were little? What else havenât you told me?â
âMm,â You hum, arms crossed over your chest. âI got recruited to shadow coaches back in the university Jungkook and I attended. I rejected their offer and went undecided before coming to terms that Iâd teach.â
Naeun is taken aback by all this information, stumbling back to the edge of your desk to regain her balance. âYou were recruited to coach? And you rejected that offer? Why the hell would you do that?â
âBecause swimming is Jungkookâs dream, not mine.â
During college, evidently enough, you had been struggling endlessly trying to figure out what you wanted to do with yourself. There were moments where you considered taking a gap yearâ a break from it all, go somewhere maybe to finally understand yourself and what you want to do. Jungkookâs eyes when you mentioned it to him grew wary, sad that he couldnât be there to help you but just stare at your helpless expression through the screen of his phone.Â
One thing you knew for sure, you didnât want Jungkook to pity you. (Although, he never did. He was just too in love and couldnât see the girl of his dreams sad.)
So you pushed harder. Met with people, asked about their experiences, requested for a mentor, and just researched. It was exactly like the time Jungkook told you he wanted to swim, so you obsessively tried to find any information on it so that you could teach him and show him things he could do in the water.
You learned that if you wanted something bad enough, you grew a drive for it.
It mightâve been when Jungkook realized that you were great at coaching. When he tried to sway you into coaching people because you were great and motivating people to do better, to try harder, and all of this without overworking them to the point of turning into dust. Despite everything, you didnât want to coach swimmingâ and soon learning, you didnât want to coach any sport. But the closest thing to it was teaching.
And a teacher was what you became.
There was already enough experience in teaching someone, or in this case, tutoring, because Jungkook sucked at it back in grade school. He always needed help, and thatâs where you swooped in. Arms filled with notebooks, backpack dragging you full with textbooks while you stood at Jungkookâs front porch, ready to confuse him with letters and numbers that he learned he didnât even need now.
âDid you know he was thinking about retirement?â Naeun sneaks in again. You shake your head, watching your boyfriend answer questions from the crowd. âNo, I didnât. Heâs never even mentioned that word to me, ever.â
Just as Jungkook finishes, you holler out for the class to settle down, pushing him aside as he bumps back into the wall with a grin on his face. âOk, class, since itâs 5 minutes before recess, Iâm just going to let you guys go off. It is a Friday, so enjoy yourselves!â
Jungkook joins in when youâre zipping up the jackets and tying the shoes of the kids; theyâre all too excited for an extra five minutes of recess time, saying something along the lines of, âwe should ask hyung to come more often, he makes her happy enough to give us five extra minutes!â and Jungkook stifles a laugh.
Standing against the brick masonry of the building, Jungkook accompanies you. âYouâre going to ask me about the whole retirement thing, arenât you?â
âWas. But you didnât seem like you cared enough to bring it up to me.â
He sighs, adjusting the beanie on his head. âI didnât decide until yesterday. Iâm going to be in the next Olympics then Iâm retiring. Iâve made enough money from the sponsorships and Iâm sure Iâll be able to keep my affiliation with Nike âtil past that.â
Glancing over at him before looking back at the children playing in the yard, you snuggle your nose deeper into your scarf. âWhyâs that? Isnât swimming your dream?â
âIt is,â He says, voice genuine and filled with honesty. âI might do some things here and there, maybe train some kid with potential. I just... I donât know how much longer I can do this thing between us. Iâm never going to give up on swimming, and thereâs so many opportunities out there for me to do that includes it. But this whole... training for the Olympics thingâ Iâve done it already. Itâs great, Iâll do another year of it. But by the time the second time I enter, weâll be hitting that age where itâs time to settle down.â
âWe donât need to have a set time to settle downââ
âI know that we donât but Iâm tired of this whole long distance thing. Youâve been so supportive of my dreams, and Iâve accomplished them already. Itâs time that Iâm here, by your side, supporting yours.â
Thereâs silence between the two of you, despite the constant screaming and laughing thatâs coming from the playground.Â
âIâm sorry,â You blurt and he only looks at you with bewilderment on his face. âI shouldâve came to visit you on our anniversary instead of expecting you to come here. It was selfish of me.â
Jungkook laughs, beaming brightly with the sweetest smile upon his lips. âYou used to be so timid and shy back in high school. Youâve developed into this woman whoâs confident and fierce, sometimes scaring me because I never thought you could ever be like this.â
âDoes it make you like me any less?â
âNo,â He turns to you, tightening the scarf around your neck in prevention of slipping. âBut... it makes me love you more. Youâre also admitting things and apologizing. Very huge character development if you asked me. Say, how about we go home tonight and celebrate our anniversary, to make up for the one we miscommunicated about?â
âIâd... like that, very much.â You respond, chewing on your bottom lip bashfully.Â
âNow,â He begins, pinching your frozen cheeks gently. âI told you I love you about... a million times since I came back. Iâm still waiting for you to say it too.â
Heâs still somewhat the same Jungkook from back then, hidden underneath the blanket of adulthood and experiences through college but nonetheless, just as much as he changed, youâve loved him through every stage heâs gone through. He felt the same. âLove you too, Jeon.â And there it was, the smile that tugs on the edges of your lips that heâs been waiting for, dedicated just for him.
410 notes
¡
View notes
Text
summary: you made taeilâs undead heart soar and he was absolutely addicted to the feeling.
pairing(s): yandere!zombie!moon taeil x reader | kim doyoung x reader
warning(s): swearing, obsessive behaviour, mentions of blood, gore (kind of..?), minor character death, cannibalism, non con (taeil forcefully kisses the reader)
word count: 2.6k words
a/n: this is pretty heavy stuff so if any of the aforementioned content triggers you, do not read. please note that I do not condone taeilâs behaviour and that this is purely a work of fiction. my fic is not an accurate representation of taeilâs actual personality.Â
part of @127-mileâs addiction collab
emotions were as foreign to moon taeil as brains and human flesh once were. while he doesnât mind either of them, they were just very hard to come by. that changed when he got a job at the qian familyâs mortuary, courtesy of qian kun, a mutual friend. johnny had already explained taeilâs special situation to kun, who agreed to give taeil access to the bodies so long as he worked as kunâs assistant. it was an excellent arrangement for both men - taeil could finally eat some proper food while kun finally had help. for obvious reasons, not many people were willing to work at a morgue, especially for such low wages.
taeil managed to ease himself into a routine of work, brains, sleep then repeat. while many people would eventually go insane from being constantly surrounded by cold, still bodies, taeil couldnât care less. a zombie couldnât ask for a better arrangement. while he did not experience emotions, he still felt a semblance of peace.
at least, that was before you showed up, completely unannounced. of course, your arrival wasnât completely random, kun did warn taeil that his cousin was coming home after getting their phd, but you werenât what taeil expected. he had this mental image of you being stoic and reserved. he thought youâd briefly acknowledge him with a slight nod while visiting your cousin and that would be it. imagine his surprise when he came to work and was greeted by a smile brighter than the sun. you were like the human embodiment of a meadow of flowers in the summer - warm, wonderful and welcoming. hell, you even smelled like flowers.
suddenly, his daily routine was ruined.Â
most mornings, you would meet him at the mortuary, looking as fresh as a daisy, and hand him an equally fresh box of baked goods from the bakery next to your clinic. if it was a slow morning, and it usually was, you would make small talk with him while kun went over the dayâs plans in his office. he began to cherish those morning conversations with you and his undead heart would sink when the clock struck nine and it was time for you to hug him and kun goodbye. from then on, he was usually in a sour mood for the rest of the day, not humouring the silly jokes kun made as they worked. he would get off work with a dull ache in his heart if you werenât there to pick kun up or offer to take them out for drinks.
this abrupt change frightened taeil more than anything. why was he suddenly experiencing these strange feelings? he hated it. every day, he was going through a rollercoaster of emotions that would be decided by whether or not he saw his bossâ cousin. it was so absurd. in the past five years of him being a zombie, he hadnât felt such extreme emotions before. they all felt so...so human.
when he consulted johnny about these strange occurrences, his friend began to howl with laughter, âdude, itâs so obvious!âÂ
taeil glared at johnny, âcare to explain what exactly is so obvious?â
âyou like y/n. why else would you be constantly pining for them?âÂ
taeil scoffed. johnny must have smoked something because there was no way he liked you. at best, he had known you for three months and it isnât like you regularly spent time together. plus, you were related to his boss. johnny had no idea what he was talking about, he was full of shit.
âthatâs bullshit. I donât buy it,â taeil shook his head, leaning back in his chair.
âno I swear, itâs true! we drove past this factory and they were just beheading these chickens out in the open,â you sighed. âanyway, the sight was so sickening, Iâve never looked at meat the same way since.â
âyet you decided to be a thoracic surgeon.â
you shrugged, âyeah but operating on people and eating meat are two different things. I donât mind looking at flesh and blood but the thought of eating any makes me sick.â
taeil silently thanked you as you made that statement. ever since johnny had suggested that taeil liked you, heâd been searching for reasons not to like you. and of course, thereâs no way he could like you if you were a vegetarian. you would be absolutely disgusted if you knew what his main diet consisted of. yet, every now and then, he felt his mind drifting away to a different mental list - a list of the things he liked about you.
he liked how you would come up with the most absurd conversation starters, just to make him crack a smile. he liked how your hugs were warm and comfortable. he was even beginning to like the fuzzy feeling that would envelop his heart whenever he was around you. you made him giddy and lovesick and eventually, he didnât mind anymore. being around you all the time forced him to accept that he had very strong feelings for you. in fact, he was certain that even as a human, he had never had feelings this intense. there was just something special about you that had him feeling some sort of way. normally, he would have been afraid of how you controlled your heart but now? he was in too deep to care.
he decided it was better for him to just accept the fact that he loved you. why try to fight it? it was highly unlikely that he would feel this way about anyone ever again. he had to hold onto you, he would be insane to let you go.Â
finally, he plucked up the courage to confess to you. he was falling for you more and more every single day, and not being with you was slowly killing him. he decided to surprise you at the clinic where you worked with a bouquet of your favourite flowers. he planned to treat you to lunch at a romantic cafĂŠ then confess to you while walking you back to the clinic. he had rehearsed the little speech he wanted to give over twenty times with johnny, who repeatedly assured him that everything would go well.Â
it did not go well.
taeil was greeted by a unpleasant surprise when he reached the entrance of the clinic. there you stood, his beloved y/n, in another manâs arms. taeil watched, horrified, as the man placed a soft kiss on your lips. you looked so happy with him and it broke taeilâs heart. he felt awful as he watched you smile at the man. that same wonderful smile that he wished was for his eyes only. it felt like a cruel joke to have your laughter fill his ears as tears pricked his eyes. taeil was glad that nobody was paying attention to him as hot tears stained his cheeks. he couldnât have gotten away sooner, pushing past the people on the street to go home.Â
he quickly texted an excuse to kun about how he felt sick and would be gone for the rest of the day. it wasnât exactly a lie - he did feel sick and every time he thought about you and the stranger, it only got worse. he ripped up the bouquet and the plastic that had been wrapped around their stems, screaming as he did it. pain bled into fury as he destroyed the beautiful flowers. he was unbelievably angry and wouldnât stop until every last petal had been snatched from the base and scattered on the floor. he was blinded by rage as he made a mess of his apartment floor. finally, the bouquet had been completely ripped apart and tears cleared taeilâs vision.
he dropped to the floor, feeling miserable as he stared at the mess, tears streaking down his face. he loved you so much, but someone had stolen you away. how dare that asshole? you were supposed to be taeilâs, how could he just come between the two of you like that? how incredibly selfish of him. taeil had to get rid of him, as soon as possible. the more time you spend with that jerk, the more heâll ruin you. taeil scowled at the memory of the two of you kissing. he will pay.
 it was decided. taeil was going to make you his, one way or another. whether you liked it or not.
âI hate this, taeil.â
taeil nodded, feigning sympathy as you pouted and continued to complain, âdoyoungâs been so busy the past week that he hasnât been able to call me even once. he just sends brief texts⌠I really miss him.â
âthat sucks, y/n, but you know, itâs a very demanding job.â
âyeah I knowâŚbut would it kill him to at least call to say good night?â you sighed, sipping your tea. âwhatever. thank you so much for listening to my rant, taeil, I really appreciate it. youâre an awesome friend.â
the word stung, but taeil tried not to show it as he smiled and promised you that he didnât mind. which was half true. taeil could never get tired of listening to you talk about any topic but one - kim doyoung, your boyfriend. it didnât really matter, though. soon, taeil would make sure that you would forget all about that piece of shit. soon, moon taeil would be the only thing on your mind, just like how you were the only thing on his min
but first he had to punish you. you deserved it. if you hadnât gone and dated another man, he wouldnât have considered such a thing. you needed to be disciplined. you belonged to taeil and he was going to make sure that you remembered that fact. so he sat there in front of you, politely nodding as you vented about your boyfriend, and tried to think of a suitable punishment.
âI know Iâm complaining about him a lot, but I really like doyoung,â you laughed. âeven though he took me to a barbecue place for our first date.â
thatâs when a lightbulb went off in taeilâs brain.
for someone who couldnât survive without eating brains, taeil sure was an idiot. somehow, heâd gotten roped into a dinner date with you, doyoung and doyoungâs sister, jisoo. at least he managed to convince you to let him host the dinner at his apartment, insisting that he wanted to make a good first impression on jisoo. youâd wiggled your eyebrows and teased him about it but he knew, deep down, setting him up with someone else was hurting you. but you wouldnât have to worry about hiding your feelings for much longer - taeil would soon relieve you of your misery. ideally of course, he wouldnât want to start off your relationship with a double date with other people. not to mention your little punishment, but hey, all relationships have their ups and downs.
now if he could just get that pesky little jisoo out of the way.
after briefly stalking doyoungâs instagram account, taeil managed to find jisooâs account and figured out where she worked. getting her to stay away was easier than he thought it would be. all he had to do was press a small knife against her neck and she was begging for him to leave her alone. he left her trembling in the alley behind her office, with her tears stinging the small cut that ran down the side of her cheek. he wasnât worried about her telling her brother since thatâs who heâd be visiting next.
he had to say, out of all the humans heâd made dishes out of, doyoung was certainly the best. probably because his meat was actually fresh, but you really seemed to enjoy him as well.
âgod taeil, your spaghetti is wonderful. I canât believe doyoung and jisoo are missing out,â you nearly moaned as you devoured your dinner. âthese are the best vegan meatballs Iâve ever had. seriously, howâd you make this?â
taeil shrugged, âI used a pretty basic recipe, although I did use something extra special for those meatballs.â
âwould you mind sharing what that special thing is, master moon?â
taeilâs smile dropped, his expression completely serious now. you didnât think much of it, taeil was probably just being dramatic. however his tone as he spoke his next sentence sent a chill down your spine.
âenough dilly-dallying. tell me, sweetheart, did you really think you could get away with dating another man?â
you were too stunned to speak, what the fuck did he just say?
âwoah, donât get shy now. did you seriously think you could go be someone else's whore and I wouldnât get mad?â
âtaeil, what on earth are you talking about?â
you looked like a scared and helpless little rabbit and taeil would be lying if he said that didnât make him feel some type of way. taeilâs predatory gaze burned into your eyes, ensnaring you and refusing to let go. you were confused. why was taeil behaving like this? why was he so angry with you? but you were certain about one thing: tonight was not going to end well for you.Â
with a gentle voice, you tried to calm him down so the two of you could have a rational conversation but taeil wasnât having any of it. he grabbed you by the wrist and pulled you up to your feet, stepping away from the dining table and pulling you close till your chest brushed against his. suddenly, his steely gaze slightly softened.
ây/n, my love, I hope you know that I didnât want to do this to you, but you left me no choice. you forced my hand.â
tears were beginning to well up in your eyes. taeil was getting frustrated. you knew exactly what he was talking about yet you were acting as though taeil was speaking in cryptic messages. taeil noticed your tears and tsked, cupping your cheeks. there was no point in you crying now. the deed was done. taeil was hoping youâd learnt your lesson so the two of you could move past this.
âdonât cry, sweetheart. at least, not until you know what I did.â
âbut taeil, I donât even know what Iâve done,â you sniffed lightly.
âdarling, I love you. and I know you love me too, you donât need to say it. but why did you have to go and date doyoung? do you know how much that hurt me?â
you shook your head, âtaeil, I really didnât know how you felt. but Iâm sorry, I donât feel the same way.â
taeil glared and tightened his grip on your jaw, âfucking lies! that dickhead doyoung has brainwashed you. oh my precious y/n, I feel so awful for punishing you the way I did, but how else will I fix you?â
âwhat do you mean?â you asked, afraid of the answer he was going to give you.
âthose vegan meatballs, darling. although I suppose the term âdoyoung meatballsâ would be more accurate.â
your beautiful features were twisted into a look of pure horror as realisation dawned upon you. taeil couldnât help but let his lips form a maniacal grin. he was rather proud, even if he did say so himself. doyoung would never be a problem ever again. nor would anyone else be, for that matter. taeil knew that you were his good, obedient little y/n. you wouldnât dare to hurt him ever again. satisfied, he leaned in and forced you into a kiss. you were too shocked to fight back.
as he pulled away, he pushed the hair out of your face.
âremember to behave yourself, darling.â
#nct 127#nct#moon taeil#nct taeil#nct writings#nct fics#nct angst#nct 127 angst#nct 127 x reader#moon taeil x reader#taeil x reader#taeil angst#yandere!nct#yandere au#zombie au#nct au#yandere!taeil#nct horror
138 notes
¡
View notes
Text
Eat the Rich*
Summary: Youâre just a girl in a bar way above your tax bracket and Ransom really doesnât care for what youâre wearing.
A/N: There are no spoilers for the movie. But, there IS... Smut. Dirty talk. Class warfare in the form of hate-fucking. 2.9k words of FILTH. I need to be exorcised for this. Thank you @evanstarffâ and @tropicalcapâ for sending me straight to hell.
The entire lounge seems to turn when you enter. Eyes slide back and forth your way, mid-conversation mouths dipping into low frowns. Amidst the old-money frat boys from Cambridge, Beacon Hill Barbie socialites, and Downtown business young bloods, youâre a flagrant contrast in ripped jeans and an old hoodie.
A favorite hoodie. An incendiary hoodie.
The kind of hoodie that is worn with pride around these West End parts. Even the group you arrive with tried to hackle you out of itâ bachelorette party decorum, they cried, will you please take that thing off?
Your cousin might be marrying Silverspoon Asswipe and stringing herself up pretty next to all his call-girl friends, but you are a Jamaica Plain girl through and through and you will not stuff yourself into a glitzy cocktail dress before this hoodie.
She waves her hand at the hostess to distract her from your outfit, rustling the satin sash over her glossy sweetheart neckline, âReservation under Prentiss; it was booked this morning?â And then a sharp look at you as if to say, you made the reservations, right?!
Duh. Your eyes respond when the hostess begins to lead your party back. You follow the tail end of the throng, veering off towards the bar; the miasma of Chanel perfume is enough to gag, and the cigar smoke is only a tiny bit better. Not like theyâd care or even notice.
âDo you have PBR?â
The bartender stutters and before you can make him any more uncomfortable, a deep voice from beside you nips it in the bud.
Broad shoulders turn until you see his face. Amused, with a single raised eyebrow, mouth just barely tilting up at one corner. Mid-thirties and extremely well-groomed. Slicked back brown hair and classic Ray Bans hang from the collar of his sweater. Too handsome for his own good with the unmistakable swagger of someone grown up filthy rich.
âSheâll have the Glenfiddich. Neat.â
Certainly smug enough to butt in like youâre old friends.
âWill she?â You ponder defiantly at the pursed lips nestled over a strong jaw.
His own thick crystal glass is easily tipped into his mouth when he takes a too-large swig. Signet rings on two left fingers glimmer, and with a low exhale bordering a growl, he hisses through his teeth, âYeah. I think you will.â
Bold blue eyes roam over your top and the statement printed there for a second before he scrutinizes your face. Then, purposefullyâand knowing that your eyes are on him-- he looks back down to the swell of your chest.
A hum of approval before he faces forward again, only giving you his side profile.
âWow,â you scoff, âDick.â
The grin that splits his mouth for a second looks angelic if angels could be full-grown men with full-grown egos to match. âClose. Itâs Ransom.â
Amber sloshes when the bartender returns, and you chance a sip because even your pride isnât stupid enough to pass on a free glass of Glenfiddich.
The whiskey bites for a second before rolling smoothly down your throat. Thereâs an inherently superior taste to these luxury drinks, but you pull a face all the same, unwilling to give him the satisfaction. Ransom chuckles, head turning just a tad as he looks to you from the corner of his eye.
âYou making a statement with that thing on, or what?â
âYouâre the one making a statement with that ladies wool scarf from Drakeâs.â
Ransom jerks to you fully now, attention snatched by your wit as he leans in, âWhereâd you come from, little girl? Not everyone walks into Carverâs dressed in rags.â
He really is a piece of work. When you tell him your neighborhood, as expected, he snorts with disdain, but his eyes fall back on you again, highly intrigued. âThereâs more to you, isnât there? My scarf, that attitude. Someone taught you a thing or two, didnât they?â
The single-malt mouthful is singing in your veins and if your confidence was thinking about simmering down for a second, itâs forgotten itself inside the furious swirl. The hand around your empty glass clutches just a tiny bit tighter.
âOh, come on,â Ransom waggles two fingers for another round, âLetâs see, Iâm thinking⌠blue-collar parents, siblings, maybe with shared rooms in your dilapidated Jamaica Plain home?â A tap of his finger to that pink bottom lip too damn pretty to be on his wretched face, he pretends to mull a thought over.
He looks you up and down, taking just enough time to where you feel violated under his gaze, âI know: Public college. Two-year community. Working a day job in Back Bay made you bitter, didnât it? Hence, statement piece.â
âAsshole,â you snap, unraveling at the seams with rage, and the bartender quickly flits away again, âFull ride to Northeastern, four years with honors. Back Bay canât fucking afford me.â
You donât know how he does it, but his derisive silence incenses you even more. He couples it with a slow flick of his tongue over teeth, flagrant staring, and the piercing blue of his eyes spotlight a trailâacross your shoulders, down your arm, jumping from your fingertip to your thigh, and then it dips between.
Every inch of your body prickles alive with reaction, so naturally, you spit, âFuck you.â
Ransomâs smile grows until it nearly looks genuine, but then the sharp points of his canines sink right into your gut.
âWhen?â
There is something ugly and incredible simmering behind his thick curtain eyelashes. A clear ocean grows stormy, sizzling like a cruel tempest rushing to life. The yellow gaussian blur from dim scone lights suddenly cast shadows over his sharp nose.
He slaps too many bills on the polished ebony and the swish of his scarf flicks over your knee when he stands. Ransom towers over you, light pink flush of inebriation and excitement growing hotter on his sculpted cheeks. He leans in, the open flaps of his overcoat falling around your shoulder, threatening to swallow you inside all his dark.
Low timbre and dusky spice goads, âPut your money where your mouth is, scholarship; that sweaterâs not all talk, is it?â
Dick!
-
Big hands yank the hem up over your head for a second before something changes his mind. The heavy steel door is latched twice over and heâs pushing you into it with his imposing frame. Your skull hits the metal as his knee parts your thigh, leg shoving itself up in-between until youâre on your tip-toes, with nothing to do but land on him. The heat of it rushes all the way up to the top of your head, pouring from your mouth in a choked mewl.
Ransom rucks the top over your breasts until the words scrunch up at your collarbones and you think it must bring him some masochistic satisfaction to know their unforgiving glare:
Eat the Rich
His warning chills your spine.
âIâm gonna fuck that line from your brain. Fuck it right out.â
He yanks everything south of your waist to your ankles and pulls himself free from his pants, effortlessly tearing a condom from inside his leather wallet and slipping it on. Between the time he gets your bare ass on the counter and the sound of the rubber snap, heâs already branded a purple streak onto the side of your neck and youâre embarrassingly wet.
Your breath hitches in your throat when you see his length rising from beneath his cable-knit. Bright pink and angry, and so goddamn thick it makes you whimper. Ransom smothers it with his demanding and hungry mouth, impatient at being empty, stinging with whiskey and force. Heâs probably never waited on anything in his life and within a short fifteen minutes of meeting him, you know that to be true.
Not a care in the world is given as goosebumps break out all over your arms.
He spins you into the sink countertop and then the two of you are staring at each other in the mirrorâs reflection. His hands return to your hips with a bruising clutch and those thick fingers begin to rub the slick between your folds all over your thighs. Fucking A-- Itâs good. Idiot rich boy does have the Midas Touch.
One long leg kicks your jeans completely off, sole of his shoes stomping all over them. Heâs unforgivingly large and he knows it because everything about Ransom Drysdale is a statement: his clothes, his attitude, his dick. Thereâs a joke in here somewhere about him being the very epitome of it, but heâs glaring at you with that pretty bottom lip stretched between perfect white teeth and maybe you can forgive the fact that heâs leaving boot marks all over your jeans and bruises in the shape of fingerprints on your back.
âTell me,â he teases, slipping one finger in, the metal of his ring pressing up against your clit, âTell me youâve had it like this before.â
A slow roll of his hips against your ass, letting the weight of his cock pressed hot and tight between his body and yours. You find yourself inching higher, micro-movements attuned to his, staring but unseeing at his face, buzzing with the raw need to be clenching around more than one finger.
âNot like this, not off Glenfiddich, in Jamaica PlainâŚâ
And without thinking, because there isnât much to think about, you hiss, âOh, fuck you!â
Ransom chuckles into your ear because your voice breaks just a tad and heâs going to win this fight. Claws and teeth out sharper than knives, he bites down on your shoulder and slips in another finger. The distinct sensationsâsoft, slippery, strokes and the sting of his teethâare scrambling your brain. Â
He grips himself tight, pushes in with uncharacteristic restraint, and youâre so desperate and aching for it all you can do is push back and pray the sound you might be making isnât loud enough for everyone in the damn place to hear.
You stifle a grunt with his next languid stroke and Ransom raises an eyebrow, âWhat? You suddenly shy now?â
It might be just a restroom, but itâs one of the nicest places youâve ever been inside. Carverâs cigar roomâs private single occupancy nook and heâs usurped it to screw you senseless. As if reading your thoughts, he rolls his eyes and continues, glaring at your half-lidded reflection.
âWho gives a shit?â Then, another smirk, âIf youâre gonna scream, get my name right.â
Your belly is quivering from the pressure, holding yourself together as best you can before he takes you to pieces. The grooves in his rings cut into your skin. His hand squeezes your neck, fingers crawling up your chin to shove inside your mouth.
Like everything else heâs ever wanted in his life, heâll own this, too.
And then itâs only punishment. Ransom twists your hair around one fist, other forearm pressing like an anchor on your sternum, wrist shoved through the neckline, hand splayed open and clutching your throat and it goes nearly all the way around. The reflection of your panting mouth and bouncing breasts matching his every thrust is lewd and vile and so goddamn good.
âI bet you fuck on top, donât you, scholarship?â He releases your throat to pinch your cheeks together, tipping your head derisively, making you nod yourself stupidâawful and humiliating but it unexpectedly thrills.
âBet youâre too proud to ask.â He makes you nod again, âBet you want someone to fuck you open just like thisâall filthy and sloppyââ
And he doesnât have to make you agree that time, youâre already limp in expectation and your reflection, damn her, she nods.
Heâs still fully dressed, coat swaying to cocoon the both of you in what is probably a hundred thousand dollars. His watch, his rings, his fucking boxers. That stupid cable knit sweater.
A yelp leaks out with your orgasm- unexpected and high and quick, like a wounded animal as you tip your head back onto his shoulder. He doesnât stop, even for a second. Ransom thrusts deeper, and on the cusp of your second undoing, he licks an errant bead of sweat down the back of your neck.
âYou got one more. Yeah, thatâs rightâ one moreâ God, your pussy loves it. Squeezing me fucking good.â Heâs sick. Heâs sick and Jesus Christ, arenât you, too? âYeah. Push back on my cock. Fuck yourself with itâŚâ
He guides your fingers to your clit with his free hand and begins to rub in motions. Your eyes flutter when he breathes into your ear, âThere you go, scholarship, youâll never get dick this good againâso go ahead and be selfish. I wanna see you all fucked out, fucked stupid, coming all over my dick.â
With two fingers sluiced with your spit, Ransom crams them up next to his cock and you canât believe how he did it so easily but maybe you can. Yes, filthy and sloppy and never like youâve had before. Your hands grip the counter top so tightly the tips look white and bloodless and the strained coil inside snaps clean in two.
âFuck! Oh fuck! God!â
You slump backwards, fingertips to toes shocked tingly numb, boneless and empty of all thought, but he holds you up with ease. Ransom shushes your gasps, paws your breasts and fluttering sternum, runs his hand over your face and throat. The pinch of his fingers returns to your cheeks and he drags his other hand from inside your pussy up into to your mouth. Slick and dripping, a little rubbery from the condom, but otherwise just like yourself.
âWell, look at that. Arenât you justâŚâ
He pauses to view your blissful face, covered in a sheen layer of sweat, head resting on his shoulder, slanted just enough so that the tip of your nose brushes his jaw. A quick laugh, strangely knowing and a bit sweet or maybe youâre imagining it in your delirium, before he turns cold again.
âMake good on your slogan. Get on your fucking knees.â
His hand looks ridiculous, big and strong and wrapped around the best part of him, completely filthy with you smeared over his fist and you slide to your knees, forehead resting briefly on his knee. His pants have fallen around his ankles, boxers still midway, and youâre so exhausted you can hardly do much more than give him a light kiss to his inner thighâGod knows whyâbefore you peel the rubber off.
It lands into the toilet and you obediently stick out your tongue, still panting to catch your breath as Ransom aims toward your open throat. âThere you go,â he groans, fisting himself, âThatâs it. Donât let a single drop go to waste.â
And you donât.
-
âSo,â your old mentor asks, familiar low drawl of his voice crackling with the tone of a lifelong smoker, âWhat do you think?â
A hum passes through from your end as you think about all the ways Ransom Drysdale Thrombey pulled you apart and in all the ways youâll probably think about for at least a couple of months.
âHeâs exactly who you think he is.â You rock back and forth on your feet near the curb, âDisrespectfulâŚâ Scholarship, Ransomâs voice sneers, âSelfishâŚâ Who gives a shit? âManipulative.â
Well look at that⌠arenât you just⌠And the glimmer of those big blue eyes half-crazed with lust and control, drinking in your reflection in the mirror, makes you clench up right there in the parking lot.
âYou think heâs a killer?â Blanc asks quietly.
âI donât know,â You reply, âDepends. He takes what he wants when he wants it⌠Could care less if he burns the world down with him. You divine the rest.â
Benoit Blancâs frustrated sigh is all the response you expect him to give. This case with the Thrombeys really has gotten him all twisted up. He wouldnât have called you for a favor if it didnât. Of course, when he asked you to check Ransom Drysdale Thrombey out, heâll be at Carverâs tomorrow around ten, he probably had other scenarios in mindâŚ
âWell,â he mumbles, âThanks again. These people sure are hell to be around. Give the new Prentisses my best, wonât you?â
You say your goodbyes and tuck your phone back into your pocket, shifting with a wince when the soreness between your legs throbs again. With a sigh into the dark autumn night, you shove your hands inside the center pouch of your hoodie, keeping your head low but still wary enough to find your Uber.
Ransom left you in the restroom about ten minutes ago, sitting on your haunches, still trying to remember how your lungs work. Right before the door shut, he had turned around and gave you one last smirk, pointing right at your top with glee. âHowâd I taste, baby?â
Blanc needs to be careful, not that he isnâtâ because he always is, as nutty as his brain works, he is. But Ransom is the only Thrombey youâve met and if there are ten more of them⌠Blanc would do good to watch his ass and maybe get some extra help.
A jangle disrupts the quiet when you begin to play with what youâve taken. Jagged metal edges. Heavy iconic insignia laying benignly in your palm before you tug it out.
Idiot. Good dick or not, an idiot is an idiot is an idiotâ especially his kind. Didnât even notice you slipped these right out of his coat pocket. You swing the ring around your flexed pointer in swift, angry circles, keys clanging together before your hand shuts it up.
With a hard wind of your arm back, you fling the set long into the night, satisfied when it lands behind a building some distance away.
Ransom Drysdale, you think, enthusiastic smile growing on your face as your ride pulls around the corner, have fun looking for those tonight.
Dick!
-
Ransom tags:Â @mermaidxatxheart @dumbubblegum @sapphirescrolls @gothambrat @southerncross47 @bubblegumpeeeach @fiercephantasmagoria @saliarheva @amberakawolfie
Perm tags:Â @whothehellisbucky @serpentbaby @badassbaker @alagalaska @cake-writesâ @crist1216â @star-spangled-man-with-a-planâ @infinity-saga @jamesbarnesthighsâ @pinknerdpandaâ @xoxabs88xoxâ @imsoft-barnesâ @momc95â @typicalangelâ @wretchedgoddessâ @readeityâ @iwannasailâ @ya-lyublu-tebyaâ @geeksareuniqueâ @wildefireâ @satanxklausâ @jhangelface0523â @wkemeupâ @ixcantxdecidexwhosxmyxfaveâ
#knives out#ransom thrombey#ransom drysdale#ransom x reader#smut#fanfiction#reader insert#ransom drysdale x reader#ransom drysdale thrombey#ransom x you#eat the rich heli0s
4K notes
¡
View notes
Text
Gifts of BL! Aka Christmas Goodies For BL Fans Who Want Important Discussions About  Representation.
Oh wow, we're closer to Christmas. Where has the time gone?. So here's a gift for you allâanother list of great BLS that will make you have a great time. If you find it fun rewatching and feeling all the emotions from these love stories, then I hope you enjoy these. Today I bring you guys a list of recommendations for our sometimes serious, sometimes heartfelt, sometimes innovative educators in BL that are very much needed.
Ah, The educators, the teachers, the serious topics, the displays, the emotional moments. Some of these shows decided to surprise me when I came in expecting something odd and not realistic; only for them to break my heart but also humble me and teach me and others some of the crucial conversations we need to have about LGBTQ+ representation in BL. We have couples discussing about their sexuality accepting they are gay or bi(Yes not just in love with only one person but they actually embrace their sexuality), we have essential coming out scenes and looks into the mindsets of people who struggle with coming out and being in the closet, we have supportive families that have to learn and show our characters warmth because of their own experiences, and we have metaphorical outlooks of what it feels to have to please society with the result of losing ourselves. These are the great BLs, they break our hearts, but they make it hopeful to see people who go through their issues and come out in love, strong and protected and supported. Their journey is worth it, so if you want to find some shows that give you these feelings, then join me and let's look at these great representations in the BL genre.Â
BL has a bad rep. How could it not when the reason BLs were created was for straight girls who fangirled about two boys kissing. Not that I even hate fujoshi's, you're allowed to be whatever you want, like whatever you want as long as you don't cross the line and make people uncomfortable with outrageous demands or actions (like the fujoshi's in some BL shows). But BLS has become something more, though some people refuse to take them still seriously and doubt their authenticity, some people refuse to accept some shows as BL, they instead just call it a queer film or tv. But why? BL has become a place for people to run away into a fantasy of stories where there's drama, romance, comedy, mystery, passion and more. BL can be anything, and in 2020 BL showed it could be anything, it could be serious and well produced and not filled with its past problematic enquiries, it could be funny and still tug at the heartstrings, it could be deep and painful and full of lessons but still have a happy, hopeful ending, it could be any genre it wanted, from supernatural, action, thriller and more. BLs improved and also became a source for the representation of LGBTQ+. And I think that's beautiful. It might have a taken a while for people to learn, for own voices to find a way to write new shows, for risks to be made. But 2020 saw the influx of BLS that weren't just fan service but actually art or just good stories with a great message. Here are some of them.Â
ThaiÂ
Dark Blue Kiss
It's weird to say that Dark Blue Kiss is an excellent representation for the qualities needed in this list. But what can I say apart from the overbearing, jealous plotline and some irrational over reactiveness with some of our characters. Dark Blue Kiss and Kiss me again has always been a show that has been worth it. Dark Blue Kiss is one of the first Thai BLs, where we saw a supportive parent, and that's Pete's father. He's incredible; he's everything that's healthy, understanding and helpful. He makes jokes with Pete about his relationship but also supports and gives him advice. He's protective and sweet when it comes to Kao and Pete, and they are themselves when they're with him even daring to speak about things like intercourse etc. It's incredible; he was a breath of fresh air for parents we usually encountered in this genre. He had discussions with his son, and in doing so, we saw his son also have more conversations and discussions with his partner about what their sexuality was, why they should come out as a couple, why they were scared to do so, what was holding them back etc. Pete's dad isn't the only supportive parent with advice and warmth, we later also add Kao's mum to the list, she's always known about Pete and Kao and was waiting patiently for Kao to come on his own and tell her. It's incredible. Dark Blue Kiss brought out conversations that didn't seem meaningless, there was an actual exploration of the fears some people have with coming out, and it was brilliant and wonderful to see on screen. Honestly are we shocked? It's Backaof as the director; all his shows should be on this list, every single show of his explores these topics with care and heart. And it's incredible.
Why it's a gift
Deep conversations and moments where you see two people learn and wonder about their sexuality and how the world may react to it. Supportive parents that are understanding, helpful and sweet. A relationship that's incredible despite its flaw, shown wonderfully and thoughtfully. Even the hurtful moments like when Kao gets outed and also has to struggle with claims of being a predator is done well and leads to Kao finally accepting his fears and coming out to the people he loves. By the end of it, all Pete and Kao are back together, happy, finally healthy and mature. Dark blue kiss also explores these two ambitions, their dreams, their ideas for the future and more. And it also has a great friendship group worth stanning. Pete and Kao aren't the only couple in this show worth praising and noticing you also have Mork who goes through his own acceptance of his sexuality once he falls for Sun, they're also great and also have their own plot revolving around dreams, jobs and character and angst. A great side couple in BL. Â It's amazing.Â
Special mention:
My Dear loser: Another Backoaf directing, no words this is incredible, I think everyone knows how great this is despite the BL coupe being a side couple, that may have an ending that feels unfinished. You can watch both this and My sky for a full experience. This deals with everything so well and also has a great support system from friends. Chimon is such an amazing actor in this.
As always I leave a gift:Â
LINK HERE FOR MY DEAR LOSER IN/SUN CUT
DARK BLUE KISS EDIT FOR PETE KAOÂ THEIR STORY
I told Sunset about You
I mention this show on every list; it's like not even a surprise anymore to see it. There's a reason why this show is incredible why people prefer to see it as a queer film instead of BL. Why people think calling it a BL is an insult (which I think why? A BL should be allowed to be seen as a good form of representation). This show has it all. Honestly, a great production company behind it, acting that's phenomenal, and a story that will blow your minds each time you watch it and try to piece it together. What's even more respectful about ITSAY is that it's a coming of age done well, it showcases feelings of the youth and how feelings are seen as a storm that can't be stopped.Â
Especially when you are struggling to understand your sexuality, we have two characters, Teh who learns as he grows that he has uncontrollable, addictive and crazy feelings for his best friend, they're drawn to each other, but Teh can't understand what he feels, he doesn't know what this means. He struggles to comprehend it as well with his struggles with ego, pride and selfishness because of his young age. Then we have his best friend Oh Aew he knows what he is, he also is torn apart by feelings when Teh reenters into his life, he also struggles through losing his self, individuality and his confidence because of his feelings for Teh. It's brutal, but one thing stands for sure, these two are meant to be together, these two love each other. Why is this so great? Because the directing and production of this show is serious, every single scene counts, every single action has a meaning, but also this show has incredible moments that show you the struggles of internalized homophobia.Â
It's something that's always mentioned in BLS as a struggle. Still, this show used scenes to show it, like for example, OH wearing his mother bra because he wished he was born a girl to be with Teh. Still, then he breaks down in self-loathing only to later stand up and embrace who he is, and Teh who finally comes out to his brother in a heart-wrenching scene; another supportive and healthy relationship who understands him and tells him it's okay to be who he is, to be with Oh, to be brave and take a leap to what he wants. His brother's conversation is everything someone who struggles with the same issues wants to hear; it's a healing effect, a hopeful and painful realization that some people don't have someone like Oh and Teh's family who help them and let them accept who they are.Â
It's a journey of discovering the truth about how so many people have to go through this fear because of what society put in our heads, it's a wake-up call, but the fact that ITSAY has a happy ending despite all the realistic representation and angst is a hopeful meaning for everyone who saw themselves in Oh and Teh. It's incredible.Â
Why it's a gift:
It's unbelievable; it's not told to you but shown to you the amount of struggle some people can have when they're coming of age and realizing their sexuality. It's a beautiful representation of what it's like to fall in love: the angst, pain, healing but also sabotage, and the growth. It's produced with so much effort and hard-work and research on what would be an excellent story for LGTBQ to see. One of the best made BLs; this is not us being dramatic.Â
.A Gift for You
GREAT OST PLAYLIST OF ITSAY
An Edit For Teh/OHÂ
He's coming to me
Another Backoaf, directing masterpiece. This show is incredible. Like words can't explain how good this show is. Words can't describe what a gift this show still is. How much a BL like this was needed. First, this show is already unique; it deals with supernatural world-building, with ghosts and mysteries of death/murder, it deals with also coming of age, and falling in love and accepting your sexuality. It has two confirmed gay characters who we see explore and finally reveal who they are, they've both known and as they fall in love, they have to go through the angst of what it means that they love each other.Â
It's incredible, not just because of the fact that Thun's ability to see ghosts and his need to hide that also mirrors his need to hide his sexuality, the way he breaks down later after realizing that people won't let him just be him or the way people made him feel bad for being who he is. The way that Mes also went through the same thing before he died, and the person who connected them was Thun's mom. She's incredible, and I still believe the coming-out scene of Thun to his mum is one of the best as incredible as his confession on the rooftop to Mes as he breaks down in the rain because he's afraid he's been left.Â
The amount of repressed feelings these two hides is insane, and when they later confront it, Â it's like OMG really they knew about their feelings all along? It's incredible, with a show that already has an incredibly well thought out plot about ghosts and supernatural, but it also has two characters that are fleshed out, who both have discussions with everyone around them about what they are and the way they have a happy ending after all the angst and tears. It's worth it thousand times over and over again. This show is just great. And no one else can do it like Backaof he just has the most excellent formulas: supportive family members, supportive friend unit, serious conversations about sexuality and feelings, important relationships and no censorship, unique plotlines and risks. He's incredible. No words.
Why this is a gift?
The actors are also one of Thailand BLs veterans. Both of them are incredible and nuanced in their scenes; they make you cry, scream, sigh, and swoon. They make you learn, and it's fantastic, they're amazing people. They're worth it both Ohm Pawat and Singto, their performances are incredible. Every character in this show is fleshed out and necessary, the plot makes sense and isn't written haphazardly, and the directing is phenomenal. Watch it.Â
A gift for You
Heâs coming to me the whole show
PINOY
Gaya Sa PelikulaÂ
This time we have the Philippines if Thai isn't your cup of tea I guess. This show is just, so great? It was made with the intention for representation, a love story to the LGBTQ community, actors devoted to researching and learning about the topics presented in the show. This show is outstanding, no words, it's not preachy, but it's still educative. Not one episode goes back when you don't see the effort and brilliance of this show; each message of each episode is so important and needed. The story isn't afraid to explore topics which haven't been shown correctly in this genre, and it's so good they did.Â
We have two characters, one a gay out guy (Vlad) who is very bitter about everyone and how they treated him, he's dying to be loved for who he is, and he's desperate to find a safe space where he can be himself loud and proud, he falls in love with another (Karl) who is more in the closet, with secrets that you discover later about his circumstance he's not sure of who he is and as the show progresses he and us get educated about everything. He learns to accept that he is gay.Â
This show is about self-acceptance, love and healing. By falling in love; our characters are forced to question everything about who they are, what they've gone through and how that shaped them, and we realize that both perspectives is right in their own way. The show is for people who feel like the guy who's out, who wants to be proud and tell the world he's in love but also it's for people like his partner who feel guilty for struggling and having anxiety about accepting who they are, but this show doesn't force him out, it doesn't force them to be together, it just becomes a realistic story full of hope about the future of these two. It's a healing show; it makes you question your self, it makes you go through your own journey of how you feel you're perceived in the world, it takes you on a trip of your own self-learning, exploration and discovery. And it ends making you feel grateful for the experience of it all.
Why it's a gift:
 I think the best thing about this show is the other extra gifts it brings. It's music playlist, it's like your own gift bundle of new artists to explore and listen to every song is beautiful and needed, with different messages and feelings, you will find one music you love in this playlist, and you'll end up spending hours weeping about them. But it's beautiful, it's euphoric, and the show is worth it. The show has amazing actors and a great team of people behind the scenes. The writer is brilliant, poetic and serious; he knows how to make a plot. He knows how to teach you without you feeling patronized, he knows how to humble you if you didn't know anything before. He's just great.Â
A gift for You
GSP OST PLAYLIST- THE BEST
GameboysÂ
I haven't mentioned this show on here before, which is sad because it really should be praised. It's an outstanding show that showed up during a time where the world was on pause. Gameboys provided a gift for everyone who looked for something during the lockdown in the pandemic. The fact it revolves around events in the pandemic, it uses it as a great plot device and has important moments that touch your heart and make you reflect on the situation without being too heavy.Â
Gameboys is incredible; it also has a unique storyline, a Gameboy and his fanboy who falls in love with him and is confident he can win over his heart. Except, our Gameboy Cairo has to go through some self-exploration first, some self-healing and acceptance, some coming to terms with guilt and self-hatred he feels for things that happened to his past. This show makes you cry, so bring the tissues, I mean every show on this list probably does, but this show has so many moments, we have supportive parents, but even in a more heartbreaking way, we have warnings of what happens when people selfishly out people, the consequences of that, how much anxiety and fear you can have as you deal with internalized homophobia and being in the closet, how it affects family members, and what it means to finally accept who you are and stand up for who you are. It's brilliant, painful, but it also makes you grin from so many heartfelt moments we needed during a dark time. The actors are also amazing, and they make you feel everything they feel so naturally, they're also three dimensional and have exciting character arcs. There's a great support system as well in this show, with the best friend, who makes you smile whenever you see her. This show is worth it.Â
Why is it a gift?Â
I feel like without knowing it Gameboys was an actual gift for everyone who was struggling during the pandemic, it showed the reality of what was going on, but it also showed healing and hope and happiness derived from being in quarantine and lockdown. It showed that even in lockdown nothing had to stop, we could still fall in love, grow and learn about our selves if we wanted to. It also had a great love story to follow that was both funny, romantic and heartfelt. The directing was genius also, and it touched many people. It was outstanding.Â
A gift for You
ALT GAMEBOYS: A SIDE STORY FOR ONE OF THE CHARACTERS
JAPANESE
Cherry MagicÂ
Finally, we come to this gem of a show. What else can we say about Cherry Magic? Oh I know, no one expected this Japanese BL to be so full of heart, joy, magic but also depth. This show is just ridiculously good, it's not as painful as the other shows, it's slower and more softer than the other angst in the other shows, but this show still tugs at your heartstrings and makes you laugh and cry. It deals with everything that has already been mentioned: self-acceptance, questioning of sexuality, trying to please society that you lose your self, being brave and finding your self, loving your self, etc.Â
It's just so great, it's also unique a story about magic and reading minds that our main character has. As he realizes his person (Kurosawa) loves him, we watch Adachi struggle through self-hate, self-deprecation and anxiety to finally come out of his shell and become who he wants to be. This show has an incredible love interest who's just wonderful, he's the ideal man, but that doesn't mean he's one dimensional or stale.Â
He's also deep, and has his own flaws and hurts, and the way he loves Adachi is just breathtaking and frankly makes you so jealous. Why is this show for representation? Because it's a slice of life of an office romance, it deals with what people go through in life, the gruels and requirements from work whilst also watching both our characters choose to be brave and come out to each other and pick each other despite their fears about what their environment thinks.Â
These two are each other's healing, comfort, support system and they both have incredible personalities. This show is also quite deep, you wouldn't think so, but when you listen to the dialogues and watch some of the scenes, you'll see how deep this show can be for its characters whilst still being fluffy. It perfectly represents the fear of coming out and coming to terms of having feelings for someone you weren't expecting. Its message is more hidden, but it's still great for conversations about representation, in my opinion.Â
Why it's a gift?
It was made as one; the last episode is coming on Christmas haha. This show takes some tropes of BL and chooses a healthier option, it also just fleshes out its characters incredibly, you watch how Adachi and Kurosawa changed each other's life without knowing and how their love keeps being needed by each other in many ways. It also is called Cherry Magic, because this show is magical, it makes you grin, be happy and excited from seeing one episode, it tugs at your heartstrings whilst making you blush and squeal from happiness. Its softness is something to look forward to after a hard day of whatever real life looks like to you, it has a healing effect, a warm effect and it makes you smile and forget your troubles in those few minutes. It's wonderful.Â
A gift for You
Adachi and Kurosawa EDIT
I hope you enjoy these shows theyâre all incredible, theyâll surely make you smile and be happy. Theyâre all important in their own way, if you havenât seen any have a go and see which you love. Let me know if Iâve missed some, to be honest I chose the ones that had scenes with important discussions that make you think or scenes that bring out emotions and feelings but also make you learn and realise something. Hope you enjoy the recommendations or if youâve watched them before hope you enjoy the reviews and commentary. Merry Christmas guys :)
Other recommendations
GIFTS OF BL FOR FANS WHO LOVE ANGST, DRAMA AND PASSION
#thai bl#japanese bl#pinoy bl#itsay#i told sunset about you#bl series#bl drama#gaya sa pelikula#dark blue kiss#he's coming to me#gameboys the series#cherry magic! thirty years of virginity can make you a wizard?!#cherry magic#christmas#wrpup#december
177 notes
¡
View notes
Note
Hello Omni! I gotta request for tomorrow (Friday). May I have Deckard getting custody of Hattie and Owen and realizing that although life is even harder than before- they are safe, healthy, and together-and thatâs what really matters
Hi friend! I squealed when I saw this one!! It's sooooo good!! I hope you don't mind that I went a little overboard with it >.<
Deckard wasnât sure how it had happened. Everything had gone by in a flash so quick, he could barely remember anything.
He could clearly remember the phone call informing him that his childhood home., everything he and his family owned, having going up in flame.
Working a job for his uncle, he had been on the other side of London when he had gotten the call in the middle of the night. He had been stalking a guy that owed his uncle money and needed to be paid a lesson. But, the guy escaped that night because Deckard had to make sure his siblings were alive.
Rushing home, Deckard swore he wasnât breathing when he saw the raging fire engulfing his home. All the windows had been exploded and fire licked out of them and at the brick of the brownstone. Standing numbly in the middle of the street, Deckard could only stare with wide eyes as his world came crumbling down.
The only thing that shook him out of his shock was when a firefighter harshly grabbed his arm and screamed into his face, demanding to know if he was Deckard Shaw.
Nodding dumbly, Deckard was dragged towards an ambulance, with several EMTs standing outside of it. One was helping another bandage his arm.
âI found the older brother!â The firefighter that had dragged him forward called out to them. A look of relief passed over all of the medical staff, especially the one with the damaged arm.
âAbout time! Do you have any idea the kind of menaces youâre siblings are?!â The EMT that was patching the other yelled at him. âTheyâve locked themselves in the ambulance and refuse to come out!â
Deckard desperately wanted to know why the hell these adults had let two small teenagers commandeer their ambulance, but he had more important things to worry about. Like if his siblings were hurt, and how the hell the fire had started. Not sparing another glance to the EMTs, Deckard walked up to the ambulance and banged on the back door.
âOh! Hatts! If you donât open this door in three seconds, Iâll come in there myself and you wonât like the consequences!â
It only took two seconds before the back door was cracked open and two, wide eyes stared back at him. A small hand poked out and tried to grab at him. Shaking his head, Deckard narrowed his eyes at Hattie.
âGet out of there, Hatts. You and Oh.â
She glared at him, but the door was pushed opened to reveal his siblings.
Both Owen and Hattie were covered in soot, but he couldnât see any burns or other injuries on them. Hattie was holding a stuffed animal to her chest while Owen was wrapped up in one of Deckardâs sweaters. Sighing, Deckard opened his arms and wasnât surprised when they both launched themselves into his chest.
âShhh, itâs alright. Iâm here now.â He whispered as he heard a small hiccup come from his chest. He couldnât tell which one it came from, especially since both were shaking.
Holding his siblings close, Deckard looked up at the still burning building. He could already hear the building cracking and saw the roof fall inwards into the fiery infernal. They had all grown up in this building, having called nowhere else home.
What were they going to do now? âOh? Whereâs da?â Deckard asked quietly. He needed to know where their father was. If he had also been in the house at the time, he would need to find him. Just so the man wouldnât hunt them down and accuse them of running away.
âHow do you think the fire started?â Owen spat, not raising his head from where he hid in Deckardâs protective hug.
Even with the fire only a few meters away, Deckard went cold.
That absolute bastard!
Deckard could feel himself shaking, but not from fear. No. He was going to get his hands on their father and teach him a lesson about playing with fire.
âWas he inside?â Deckard had to ask.
âHe left, so Oh and I went downstairs to get something to eat.â Hattie spoke up. âThatâs when we smelled smoke.â
âIâm so sorry, Deck.â Owen whimpered. âThe living room was already on fire! I couldnât stop it!â âOwen, shhh. Itâs not your fault. You couldnât do anything.â Deckard soothed his brother. Tears were streaming down both of his little siblingsâ faces, leaving tracks through the soot. No doubt they had both run back upstairs to grab what they thought most important before escaping.
âWhat happens now?â Hattie whimpered.
Taking a deep breath, Deckard didnât know.
âLetâs get somewhere to sleep. Then weâll call mum.â
They had all stumbled into a hotel, Owen and Hattie in soot covered pajamas, and Deckard in dark clothes that made him look incredibly suspicious next to two small looking children. Through a harsh scowl at the receptionist, Deckard demanded a room for the night. Luckily, they were able to get the room and all pass out.
The next day though came with far too many difficulties.
First, it took forever to get ahold of their mother. Deckard had to yell at too many of her henchmen to finally be able to speak to her right-hand man, Jules. From there, it took ever him some time to get Queenie Shaw on the phone.
âDeck, how many times do I have to tell you, I canât just stop working-â
âThe house burnt down.â
His mother was silent for only a beat.
âThereâs a place a few blocks away that I own. You three will live there.â
âMum, itâs not that simple-â
âAnd of course, youâll be expected to raise your siblings.â
âWhat-?â Deckard choked out.
âYour father called me up earlier, saying he gave me full custody. But, Deck, I canât have that right now. Iâm far too busy.â
âWait.â Deckard stuttered. âSo, youâre giving me full custody instead?â âYes.â His mother said as if talking to a small child. âIâll provide any type of financial support of course.â
Deckard didnât know how to tell her that was the least of his concerns.
âNow, I need to get back to work. If you need anything, call Jules.â
With that, Deckard became the legal guardian of his brother and sister.
Resisting the urge to throw the phone across the room, Deckard clenched his jaw and set it down gently. Looking up, he saw Owen and Hattie watching the television diligently, still wearing sooty pajamas.
Sighing, Deckard walked over to them and scooped them up into his lap. They both whined about interrupting their show, but he couldnât care less.
He could only appreciate them being safe, healthy, and alive in his arms. Thatâs the only thing that mattered at that moment.
#deckard shaw#owen shaw#hattie shaw#queenie shaw#hobbs and shaw#shaw siblings#asks#omni answers#omni writes
26 notes
¡
View notes
Text
Casey Valentine: About Her Future
A/N: This has been one hell of a ride! Talking about Casey and her life has been an amazing experience. There are many situations about her future that I haven't figured out yet, that's why I'm keeping things in a very limited timeframe (around 2 and maybe 3 years after the end of her residency). Thanks a lot to @openheartfanfics for organizing this event. I've had a blast!
Meet My MC || About Her Past || About Her Present
Casey has been leading the diagnostics team for over two years now. And things have changed a lot.
As soon as she assumed her new role, she was determined to make the team the core of a system that also involves the rest of the departments at Edenbrook. And she uses her friends for it.
Casey, Ines and Jackie are implementing a special program to evaluate interns and residents in order to discover outstanding doctors that may support the diagnostics team and other areas in the hospital after their boards. It follows a lot of the guidelines that Ethan used when they were interns, but it also gives selected residents an opportunity to assist the diagnostics team in some cases in order to improve their skills.
Elijah and Zaid became her go-to people when it comes to studies and reseach, especially in those cases where experimental treatments are the only option for patients.
Sienna quickly became a team favorite. As the best pediatrician at Edenbrook, every time the team receives a pediatric case, she is involved in the course of treatment of the patient. Casey is considering to offer her a permanent spot in the team.
Bryce's research skills when it comes to evaluate surgical options for patients are brilliant, so he frequently helps Harper by giving her second opinions on certain procedures. He also covers for her as member of the diagnostics team every time she's on leave.
When a patient needs rehab after some surgery, Rafael is the one in charge of the process. The results his patients achieve in their recovery are proof that he has all the profesionalism, the patience and the work ethics the team needs in their collaborators.
As per Baz and Ethan, Casey convinced them to keep collaborating with the team on an ocassional basis. They are one of the best immunologists and the best diagnostician in the country, so she needs their brains in her team, even if it's not permanently. They assist in the hardest and most enigmatic cases.
Despite all their efforts, the team can't accept every case they receive. And that's when Kenmore help is appreciated. A year ago, Tobias, Casey and Aurora developed a collaboration project between the diagnostics teams of both hospitals, which now allows both Edenbrook and Kenmore to help twice the amount of people they used to assist when they worked separately.
Of course, none of this would be possible without Ethan's help. As Chief of Medicine, he has the power to approve most of Casey's projects, so he's been making a very good use of a position that he wasn't convinced to accept at first. It's definitely been a win-win situation when it comes to team work between Dr. Ramsey and Dr. Valentine.
Despite of them being very private when it comes to their personal lives, there is no doubt that Casey and Ethan are relationship goals. If seeing them working together in the past was a delight, the way they've been ruling Edenbrook after becoming official has certainly helped them become the power couple the hospital needed.
Because you can definitely tell they're not only great partners, but also each other's best friend. Their nonverbal communication skills are at a whole different level and they certainly boost each other in a way you can tell they're the best thing that has ever happened to the other. They're in love and it shows.
That's why no one was surprised when, after 8 months of becoming official, they decided to move in together.
But everybody was surprised when Ethan proposed only a few months afterwards. Except for his dad and her brother (who were the only people who knew about his plans), literally no one saw it coming, not even Casey (because yes, Ethan has mastered the art of surprising her).
They almost canceled the wedding... twice. The stress of their jobs plus the chaos that involves planning a wedding was beginning to affect their wellbeing as individuals. It wasn't a big issue for any of them: Casey never cared about having a ring on her finger and they both knew that nothing about their relationship would change if they didn't sign a piece of paper, as they were certain they had sealed the deal a long time ago.
The thought of an elopement also crossed their minds... and right when they were about to do it, Sienna came up with a brilliant idea to save their original plan: a micro wedding, that took place 6 months ago.
These newlyweds like saying they have a family of four: Ethan's dad and Casey's brother are pretty much the only relatives they have, so they consider them part of their household. They even have their own rooms in their new home in Boston!
They'd both agree that getting used to wear a ring has probably been the hardest part of their marriage, even when they cared about buying bands that were "compatible" with their jobs. But they are pretty sure that if they take it off, they'll end up losing it, so they kind of gave up. They expect to get used to it over time.
When they're not at work, they love exploring all the hidden gems that Boston has to offer. They've found a bunch of great places thanks to Rafael's recommendations, but they have also discovered a lot of new places by themselves. That doesn't mean they don't enjoy a good date at home after an exhausting day at work or getting lost and disconnecting from the world for a full weekend without telling anyone where they are.
This philosophy of discovering new places also applies to their holidays. Sometimes they'd go to well-known places, but they both agree that their favorite trips are those where they visit underrated destinations. Of course, they also leave a few days to visit Alan in Providence and to go to Casey's home in Virginia.
Kids? They have talked about it, but they don't feel ready to take that step yet. Not only their jobs are very demanding, they both have some baggage they need to get rid of before thinking about becoming parents. They're not in a hurry though, they're convinced that everything happens for a reason... they are happy, and that's all that matters.
She may not live with them anymore, but the roomies (and the rest of the gang) are still incredibly close. Casey still has lunch with whoever is available almost every day, and they still have a booth with their names on it at Donahue's.
When Casey moved in with Ethan, they didn't search for a new roomie. With the exception of Sienna, they all were attendings, so it was easier for them fo afford Casey's part ot the rent. They decided to turn her room into an office they all use a lot.
And none of them has the intention to leave their apartment any time soon. Housing in Boston is incredibly expensive, and they know none of them could afford a place like the one they have by themselves. This also gives them a chance to get rid of their med school debt a little faster.
Jackie, Aurora, Sienna and Casey also host a "girls just want to have fun" event at the apartment whenever Elijah visits his parents. It's a bonding tradition they started during their residency and they have no intention to finish any time soon. Sometimes, Kyra (when she is in town), Ines and Angie join them as well.
Bryce is the person she relies on when she needs a brotherly figure. She can definitely see a lot of her brother on him, and he always seem to have the right answer to everything. He also had to get a bigger place, as Keiki returned to Boston after being accepted at Harvard. Casey and Jackie guided her to attend med school... and convinced her to become a diagnostician.
The gang never knows when Kyra is going to make some surprise visit. She's been travelling around the world for a long time now, but she's been back home a few times for special ocasions. The last time they saw her was for Casey and Ethan's wedding.
Sienna and Casey have been exchanging recipes for a while now. Casey can cook to survive, but Ethan takes cooking to a whole new level, so Sienna usually comes to the rescue when her bestie needs help.
Casey is also playing matchmaker between Sienna and Rafael. She has been observing the way they look at each other for a while, and she's convinced they would make the cutest couple ever. Because beautiful souls deserve to be together. So yeah, she most definitely will introduce Sienna and Rafael's vovo very soon with some "help me cook dinner" excuse.
Tags: @adiehardfan @izzyourresidentlawyer
20 notes
¡
View notes