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spookyscarydemonbabe · 3 days ago

Text

Lesson Learned

A/N- I wanted to do a little bit of a different take on his character, so i apologize if he seems a little ooc. He’s aged up in this story to being in his mid-20’s, i saw @cannibalvampir3’s drawing of him and i just… i need him biblically, he’s such a fucking loser 🙃 also, im a bit rusty when it comes to writing smut (like it’s been well over a year since i’ve written a full smut fic ESPECIALLY one of this length) so please give me some grace if it’s not absolutely amazing 🖤 this was the product on nonstop writing over the course of about 3 weeks so i hope you enjoy 💋

Summary- Once a week you’d come over to the Dickey residence to tutor Jane, and it would normally pass by without any interruptions. Unless her sad excuse of a brother decided to make an appearance. You try so hard to ignore him, but after an incident with a lost wallet you can’t help but want to make sure he knows where his place is. Although you haven’t decided if it’s beneath you, or on top of you.

Genre- Smut, 18+ content below the cut so minors be warned

Warnings- Reader has female anatomy, no use of (y/n), Bill has been aged up to his mid-20’s, mentions of drug use (marijuana), mentions masturbation (m + f), hair pulling, consent checks, tongue kissing, breast play, nipple sucking, panty sniffing, oral sex (m + f), handjob, p in v sex, missionary, loss of virginity (m), starts as hatefucking but turns into passionate lovemaking

Tag List- No tag list yet! Let me know if you’d like to be added 💋

Word Count- 14.3k

You looked up at that same beige front door you had to walk through every week, and sighed. Long. Your fingers moved up to massage your temples, just hoping that you wouldn’t leave with another migraine. Maybe this time he’d keep himself confined to the basement.

It had only been a few weeks since you’d started tutoring Jane for her English classes, and she was an excellent tutee. She was picking up on things so much easier whenever you explained them to her, her grades were improving drastically, and she had even gained more confidence with her own creative writing in her free time. The few short stories she had shown you were incredible for a high school sophomore. She was interesting and kind, someone so unique with her interests and she had quite the knack for making elaborate twists in her short stories. She was a very bright girl who you knew would strive for greatness.

It was her foul excuse of a brother that made you want to tear your hair out after every single session. You had no idea how someone as old as him managed to still be stuck in such a childish mindset.

Every time you came over he managed to get under your skin. You so badly wanted to snap at him, make him feel like the scum he is.

Every time he sauntered into the kitchen during your tutoring sessions in his dirty pajama pants, reeking of weed, sweat and no doubt whatever dried remains of himself he was too lazy to clean off. Every time you could sense his eyes on you whenever he wandered back and forth from his bedroom to the basement because he just so happened to remember he needed to reorganize his comics at that specific time. Every time you walked past his bedroom or the basement door and could overhear the overacted moans and groans coming from the girls on his computer screen, and eventually hearing one final whine of bliss from him. It happened so often, he had to have known you were there listening, you were so certain of it.

It was so infuriating.

Especially when you drove home after a long day of school and work, just ready to relax and indulge yourself in a little me time. Horror movie, a pint of Ben & Jerry’s, maybe an edible and of course a bit of stress relief…

Those seven inches of silicone in your bedside drawer felt so much more realistic when using your imagination. And every fucking time, whether you liked it or not, he’d be there in the back of your mind.

Christian Bale, the cute guy that works at the car wash, Bill. Heath Ledger, the hot librarian that smiles whenever you make a return, BILL. Brad Pitt, that one substitute teacher from senior year, BILL. Hayden Christensen, the guy from the mall food court that always gave you his discount, BILL. He was like a parasite that you couldn’t find the remedy for.

And fuck him for making you curious about the real thing whenever you saw him.

Whether you wanted it to happen or not, those thoughts arose from every little thing when he was around. Thinking about all those times you pictured your legs wrapped around his waist, his face contorted with pure bliss, his glasses nearly falling off from how fast he’s pounding into you. It’s like torture whenever he wanders into the kitchen and you can see the faintest bit of his torso and the trail of hair that moves from his bellybutton down to the waistband of whatever sweats he’s been wearing for who knows how long when he reaches to get a glass from the cupboard.

You clenched your eyes shut, shaking your head, trying to get whatever remnants of those thoughts out of the back of your mind. It wasn’t going to happen today.

You were so sure of that.

With one last deep breath, you reached over and grabbed your backpack from the passenger seat, pulling your keys from the ignition and putting them into the side pocket. You shut the car door and as you looked back up the driveway, it felt like you were being watched. You knew it was him, glaring at you from behind the dark throw blankets he used as makeshift curtains on the basement windows. Not even a full thirty seconds out of the car, and that pit of anger in your stomach started to bubble. He was terrible at trying to be secretive.

The back of your knuckles rapped gently on the front door, and a smile spread on your lips as Jane opened the door for you.

“Hey!” She said with a smile, stepping aside to let you in.

“Hey, how’s class been?” You asked as you stepped inside, walking into the dining room and setting your bag down onto one of the extra empty wooden chairs.

“Really good, actually! I got a 75% on that test I was telling you about, but I got a 90% on a surprise writing prompt.”

“That’s awesome! Did you get the test back? Maybe we can go over some of the things you missed?”

“Yeah, let me find it.”

Jane sat next to you at the table, pulling out the folder and a few notebooks she used for English class. As she was looking for her test you took it upon yourself to take out a notebook and a few various colored pens.

“So what did you write about for that prompt?” You asked as you were organizing your things on the table.

“Our teacher told us we could write anything, as long as it went along with one of the examples he gave us. I chose ‘Life or Death’, and I wrote about this guy whose wife died but he keeps going on as if she’s still there with him.”

“That sounds really cool! What was the twist you added? I know you can’t write a story without a good twist.”

“Yeah, I had him end up being her killer and he kept acting like she was there out of regret.”

“Wow, that’s a little dark, but I’d read it!”

Your friendly banter was interrupted by a snort coming from the other room. Of course he’d be there listening.

Bill had snuck his way into the kitchen, rifling through the pantry for what you could only assume was his second bag of chips for the day, and you could see the grin on his lips as soon as you turned to look at him.

“Yeah, so dark.” He said sarcastically to himself, rolling his eyes and trying to stifle a laugh.

“Shut up and get back to the basement, creep!” Jane shouted at him.

Bill made sure to take his time, looking back over to you and giving you a wink and a smirk before retreating back into the basement with the bag of chips in hand. You shot him a dirty look and quickly went back to trying to focus on Janes work instead of him.

“Sorry, you know how he gets.” Jane apologized, pulling her test out for you to look over as you made sure to listen for the basement door closing.

“It’s alright. Sorry you’ve got to live with him, seeing him once a week is all I can take…”

“I’m pretty used to it by now.” Jane shrugged, “Just ignore him, like always. I found that test.”

“Right! Let’s take a look…” Your eyes scanned the paper, looking over the few questions with the red marks next to them, “It looks like you’re really only having an issue with figurative language. I was the same way, I really only remembered similes and metaphors, but the other ones took a bit.”

“I’ve been trying to work on memorizing them, but for some reason they’re just not sticking…”

“That’s ok! That’s what I’m here for,” You opened up one of your notebooks and grabbed a pencil, “grab your notes from class, let’s look over it really quick.”

The next hour that followed went by without any interruptions, surprisingly. Jane was able to memorize everything for her next quiz, and she even let you read the short story from class to get some constructive criticism. She really had talent. Bill managed to keep himself quiet, for the most part. Save for a few times you heard him screaming at whatever video game he was playing on his monitor down in the basement.

“Let me know how that quiz goes next week.” You said to Jane as you finished placing the last of your notebooks into your backpack.

“I will! I’ll go over those notes again on my break at work today, I think the last of my homework shouldn’t take long after.” Jane stuck her notebook under her arm as you made your way to the front door, Jane grabbing her keys from the little bowl on the counter, you taking yours out from the side pocket.

“I’ll see you next week.” Jane said as she jogged over to her car parked on the street.

“Bye Jane! I hope work goes by fast.” You laughed, unlocking your car door.

“Thanks, me too.” She smiled, giving you one last wave before stepping into her car and heading off to work. It was so bizarre, seeing how well put together she was, and then to have an older brother that was so dull, so negligent to any kind of responsibility offered to him. You were grateful you only had to deal with him once today.

You couldn’t handle having those obscene, pornographic thoughts wriggle their way back into your mind.

At least it was over until next week, and you had the rest of the night to yourself. A movie sounded nice right about now, and maybe a few extra snacks were needed just in case the munchies hit again. As far as you remembered, there was still one last half of the joint your roommate gave you, and you didn’t want it to go to waste.

You reached over into your backpack and rummaged through the front pocket for your wallet, the same place it always went, and yet you couldn’t feel the faux leather against your fingers. Strange. The only other place it could’ve been in was the main pocket, but even then it was nowhere to be found.

“Come on…” You whispered to yourself as you tore through the bag, pulling every last notebook and pencil out to look for it, even going as far as adjusting your seats again to see if maybe it slipped through a crack somewhere, and still, nothing. You looked back up to that beige door and breathed slow, knowing that the only other place it could be was inside.

With him.

“God fucking dammit…” You said through gritted teeth, quickly opening the car door and slamming it shut as you made your way back up the steps. All that was on your mind was how quickly you wanted this to be over with.

Being around him with Jane wasn’t anything out of the norm, but you had never been alone with him.

Why would anyone want to be alone with him?

You sighed once more and knocked on the door, crossing your arms and waiting for a moment before it opened, Bill standing there with a cocky smirk on his face, his bloodshot eyes moving up and down over you, “Miss me?” He asked with his arms crossed, leaning on the doorframe.

You weren’t going to bother entertaining him with a response to that.

“I can’t find my wallet, can I look and see if it fell out of my bag in your dining room?”

He said nothing, but moved aside for you to step in.

You could smell the weed on him already, but shockingly that was the only thing you caught on him. Usually there would be undertones of sweat or him trying to mask the fact that he hadn’t showered in days by marinating himself in whatever body spray he found on the dresser, but his natural musk wasn’t all bad. It was odd, but not unwanted. He was in need of a shower anyways, it was certainly a rare occasion for him according to Jane.

You stepped around him, heading straight into the dining room and checking beneath the chair your bag was on. You waltzed around the table slowly, looking all over the rug beneath the table for it, but you couldn’t find anything resembling the black leather wallet. As you got onto your knees to check if it had fallen underneath the table, you sensed his hazel eyes on you once more, and glanced over to see him in the same stance he was in at the door.

His arms crossed, leaning on the wall, a shit eating grin on his lips and his eyes glued onto your ass as you stayed bent over in front of him. That pool of anger in your stomach started to boil.

“You know, you could help?” You glared up at him, annoyed.

“I could.” Bill shrugged, reaching his hand up to scratch at the patchy facial hair he had refused to keep up with, “I like the view better though.”

“You’re a pig.” You scowled at him, getting up from your position on the floor, “What’s your problem?”

“My problem?” He scoffed, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Oh please,” You rolled your eyes, arms crossed over your chest as you stood before him, “you know exactly what I’m talking about. I’m here once a week, you’ve never bothered trying to have any kind of conversation with me, but somehow you manage to always find a way to piss me off.”

Bill smirked, looking down at the floor to try and stifle his laugh.

“Is this funny to you?” Your words were dripping with aggravation, and you knew that you should quit before it’s too late. He didn’t deserve your time. “Whatever, I don’t need your help…” You turned back to the table with another eye roll. Just feeling his presence there behind you was enough to make you snap, but god forbid you really did lose your wallet there. There’s no fucking way you’d give him access to your address, let alone your money with his bullshit spending habits.

“…Fucking loser.” You said under your breath. You just couldn’t help yourself.

Bills smirk dropped as soon as he heard you.

“What did you just say?”

The adrenaline pumped in your chest as soon as you gleaned from his tone that those two simple words got him so pissed he couldn’t end this without getting the last word. You wouldn’t let him get that satisfaction.

“Well if you heard me, then you heard that I didn’t stutter.” You turned back to face him, taking a step closer, “I said. You’re a FUCKING loser.”

How dare you challenge him like this. Girls don’t talk to Bill, let alone challenge his masculinity by telling him what he knew he really was. And it pissed him off even more when hearing those venomous words leave your lips it made the blood rush to his groin.

He took a step closer to you, trying his hardest not to show you that you were getting to him, but he was making it so obvious it was hard to not want to fuck with him.

“Fuck you.”

“That’s it?” You scoffed, not even trying to hold back your laughter, “You’re not even denying it, you know you’re a loser too, don’t you?”

He was seething, his face red, fists clenched as he kept them crossed tightly across his chest, and having to hold back from getting hard right then and there only made it so much worse.

Bill had only been challenged by the guys before, and that was one of the only major constants he knew he could handle. What he couldn’t handle, was change. He couldn’t handle the fact that he knew you were right and somehow he knew he deserved it. There was something in the way you said it that just clicked. It was true, you were right, and the fact that you looked so good doing it made him want you to tell him again.

“I’m not a loser.”

“Sure you are.” You took another step forward, peering into his eyes through his dirty frames, “And everyone knows it.”

Bill exhaled hard through his nose, quickly uncrossing his arms and reaching into the pocket of the oversized zip up he had slumped over his shoulders, pulling out your wallet.

“You want your fucking wallet?” He took a step back and threw it into the living room, “Go get it then, bitch. And then get the fuck out of my house.”

“I knew you had it you fucking asshole!”

You shoved him hard against the wall after it, though you didn’t expect it to bounce so far, and you certainly didn’t expect it to fall down the basement stairs. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me…” As you stopped to go down the stairs after it, you were appalled by the absolute mess of the place.

Dirty clothes all across the floor, empty soda and energy drink cans scattered over the various shelves and desks, garbage can overflowing with an excessive amount of tissues, the pullout bed on the couch looked to be the cleanest thing and even that was a mess. Thankfully it looked to only be covered with various comics and video game controllers, but the floor around it was covered in various tapes and their cardboard sleeves and wires from the game systems all set out in front of the TV.

As your eyes scanned the floor, you couldn’t spot the small leather square amidst the clutter. It was so close to being over, but now he was making this so much more infuriating than you anticipated, and right now all you wanted was for it to be over with.

You stomped back over to Bill, who was still rubbing his arm from when he hit the wall, and reached your hand up into his greasy russet locks and grabbed a fistful, yanking him over to the basement door.

“What the fuck?! Let go of me, crazy bitch!” Bill fought to get free from your hand, though it didn’t feel like he was fighting all that hard. He had at least a few inches on you, and yet he seemed so small when you pushed him around.

“Now you’re going to help me fucking look for it, asshole!” You nearly threw him down the stairs as you let go of his hair, wiping your hand on your shirt to get rid of the oily residue.

“Cunt…” Bill said under his breath, rubbing the back of his head as he looked over the ground, kicking away the trash and clothes scattering the floor.

“Shut up and look for it.” You groaned, taking the last steps down into the basement, not being able to help looking all over the walls at the various stacks of comics and tapes, along with the different pieces of horror and fantasy memorabilia, “Christ, is your room like this too? Don’t you ever clean up after yourself?”

“Well it’s my basement, so I can do whatever I want with it.” He replied, not even bothering to look up from the floor as he kept kicking around the junk in his way.

“Oh please, you’re lucky your mom hasn’t kicked you out yet with you leaving all this junk down here.”

“It’s not junk!” Bill yelled, finally turning around to look at you. You didn’t even flinch when he took a step forward, your arms crossed over your chest.

“What would you call it then? You don’t even take care of this stuff, those shelves are covered in dust and your comics and tapes are thrown all over the place, I thought nerds like you worshipped that shit?”

“Stop calling me shit like that…”

“Well, if you tried a little harder to be normal, I wouldn’t have to call you shit like that.”

“Fuck you!” Bill stepped forward again, trying so hard to intimidate you, but even he knew he had no idea what he was doing, “You don’t know me.”

“Oh, I know more about you thank you think I do. Bill Dickey, the 20-something loser that still lives with his mommy, spending all her money on your bullshit toys because you still can’t get a job, doing nothing but smoking weed and watching porn because christ knows you’ve never gotten close to getting your dick wet… I bet you haven’t even kissed a girl yet, and you’re how old?”

“Shut the fuck up!” He yelled, his face only inches away from yours as you scowled at one another.

He hated you so fucking much, and the fact that he knew everything you said was true only made the fire inside him burn brighter. You were right. He was a loser, he still lived with his mother, no job, never had a girlfriend, let alone have a girl be alone with him for as long as you have. He was done letting you push him around, or at least he thought he was.

“Make me, nerd.”

That was it. The one final twig thrown onto the fire that made him explode with rage, and you were the one unlucky recipient that got caught in the flames. He didn’t know what came over him then, he wanted to reach his hand out and slap you for daring to speak to him that way, but with one swift motion he grabbed your collar and pulled you close, closing the space between you as he pushed his lips onto yours.

You let out a surprised yelp as he yanked you towards him, and as his lips crashed into yours you had come to the very sudden realization that it wasn’t as repulsive as you expected it to be. His lips were dry, and he tasted of chapstick and a bit of citrus from whatever energy drink he happened to chug while he was down in the basement. But still, somehow the feeling of having him so close, your lips pressed together in a heated moment of hatred, just felt so right.

It was so strange.

With the sudden realization of your surroundings, your hand reached back up into his greasy hair and yanked him back again, tearing his lips away from yours, “What the fuck?!”

“What? You said ‘make me’ so I did,” He said so matter of factly with a smirk on his face, “and you didn’t hate it either. If you didn’t want it, you wouldn’t have let me.”

He was right. You did let him.

You let him kiss you, and god help you, but you liked it.

And fuck him for making you want that aching feeling back between your thighs.

“I’ll fucking kill you…” You pushed him back hard enough for him to almost trip over the dirty clothes on the basement floor, but all he could do was laugh as you stepped closer to push him again, “Who the fuck do you think you are?!”

“I know exactly who I am, and you know too.” Even with you fuming before him, ready to clench your fist and punch him right where he deserved it, he still couldn’t help himself from being the asshole he was, “I’m the pathetic loser that everyone hates, and you just let me kiss you. And you liked it. Who’s pathetic now?”

Everything he said was true. He was pathetic, he was disgusting, he was a foul excuse of a human being, and there was some little part of you that wanted him so badly you couldn’t hide it even when you wanted to.

“Shut the fuck up.”

“You know what? No.” Bill stood tall over you, stepping forward from where you pushed him back to lean over you with a smirk on his lips, “How about you make me shut up, bitch?”

With one final shove, Bills legs gave in as they hit the end of the pullout bed, falling back against it and propping himself up on his elbows.

“You’d like that wouldn’t you?” You stood over him, hands on your hips, “Don’t think you’ve got something to hold over me just because i let you kiss me,” Another step closer and you would be in his lap, “I saw how hard you were trying to keep yourself from letting all the blood rush to your dick upstairs, you like being called a loser, and you know it.” The waves of emotion were starting to consume you. The tension was only making it more fun. “So I guess we’re both pretty pathetic…”

You climbed over him, your knees gently sinking into the cheap mattress as your hands quickly grasped his cheeks, pulling his lips back into yours. And this time he reciprocated.

You could tell that this was all so foreign to him, especially when you felt him start to harden in his sweatpants as you pushed your body into his. But he’d never admit that this was all new to him. Why stop a good thing?

As his arms gave in, he laid himself back onto the mattress, a gentle groan leaving his lips as his hands moved to hold onto your hips. The aggression you were holding inside for so long was finally able to be released, and without thinking your hips ground into him, smiling against his lips as you heard him try so hard to stifle the moan stuck in his throat.

He was right where you wanted him.

You pulled back ever so slightly, and you couldn’t help but giggle watching the way he leaned his head to keep your lips on his just a little longer. It took a moment to catch your breath after the intensity of your lips attacking one another, and all you could do was stare at him.

“What now?” Bill asked you.

You both knew exactly what you wanted, you couldn’t deny your bodies’ natural animalistic instincts, but to be giving into those feelings with each other is what got you so caught up. You didn’t like him, but you didn’t hate him either. And though he wanted to hate you still, something deep down inside was telling him that he couldn’t. Not like this.

“I don’t know…” You shrugged, one hand still gently cupping his cheek, “We could… Have you?…” The words were so clear in your brain but there was some kind of disconnect when it came to saying them. You knew he was a virgin, everything about him told you that, but were you really about to fuck him just to get it over with? Just to satisfy that itch that so many other boys in the past couldn’t scratch?

Bills eyes looked away from you, and as he shook his head you could see a mixture of anger and fear on his face.

You both knew you wanted it, and you wanted it bad, but there was that lingering feeling of hatred for one another still in the air mixed with the heavy air of lust and want for each other. You didn’t know if you hated each other, or if you hated yourselves for wanting each other.

“It’s up to you, I guess…” His eyes found yours once more, “But if we do, don’t think it means I like you.”

“And don’t think me doing this for you means I like you.” As you kept your position, straddled in his lap, you kicked your shoes off onto the floor, “Look. I’ll do you this one favor, but you have to do something for me too. I’m not just going to let you fuck me and not get anything in return.”

You felt him twitch between your legs, and the friction of the fabric between you wasn’t making it any better.

“Fine, like what?” He groaned.

“I’ll let you know when it’s over.” With one swift motion you quickly turned over onto your back, laid out on the dirty mattress, pushing aside the few comic books and tape sleeves still mixed up over the blanket and pulling Bill on top of you.

He sat up on his knees and looked down, smiling at the state you were in. Eyes glazed over with lust, cheeks tinted pink, and looking at you laid beneath him was a sight he never thought he’d see.

“Fuck it.” Bill growled, nearly tearing the oversized zip up off of his arms, throwing it onto the floor to be lost with the other various clothing items he couldn’t be bothered to wash.

He leaned himself back down over you, elbows next to your head as he pushed his lips back onto yours. Your arms wrapped around his neck, keeping him held close as if he was going to tear himself away from you at any second.

As new as he was to it, Bill wasn’t a bad kisser. A little messy, and he certainly didn’t know when to stop himself, but he had wanted this for so long you were certain he was just happy to finally get these firsts done. For a twenty-something year old virgin, he was a good kisser. And you wanted more.

With each slow movement of your lips, you inched the tip of your tongue closer and closer to moving with them, and you could sense him tense as soon as he felt it against his lips. But he wasn’t going to deny you what you wanted.

He tried to mimic your movements, slowly bringing his tongue closer and closer to touching yours. He was an asshole, but you weren’t going to make him go past his comfort level. You waited and waited for that green light to push just a little bit further, and as soon as you felt the soft flesh against your lips you gave him access.

It was so much less aggressive than you were expecting. More curious than anything, like he was nervous to make any wrong moves. Your hands slowly reached up between your bodies, your fingertips gently caressing his neck before holding the back of it, gently moving through his hair and pulling him closer into you. The moment he picked up on your signal he took advantage of it, pushing his tongue past your lips and tangling it with yours.

You gently tugged at Bills hair, although this seemed to only encourage him further, twisting his tongue faster until you had to pull him away from you to catch your breath, the taste of him still lingering.

“I need to fucking breathe, dumbass…” You said in between breaths, your chests heaving. As your eyes opened you smiled seeing you were still connected by a thin strand of saliva on your lips.

“Don’t make a mess of yourself yet.” You moved a hand down from his neck and wiped at his bottom lip before carefully leaning yourself up onto your elbows. Bill moved with you, wanting to give you the space you needed, and sat up onto his knees. “Help me.” You ordered him, reaching your hands down to the hem of your shirt and pulling it off of your body, tossing it onto the floor.

All he could do was stare at your still bra-covered chest.

He’d stared at naked girls on a computer screen hundreds of times before, he’d destroyed countless issues of Playboy and even a few Heavy Metal comics, but finally seeing the real thing was a sight so intoxicating he didn’t know what to do with himself.

“Bill!” Your shout took him out of his trance, “Help.”

“Uh…” His eyes scanned your body, eyes fixated on your breasts, trying his hardest to hold a complete thought together, “Help with what?”

“Getting this off.” You moved to sit on top of your legs, inching your body closer to him, your arms reaching out and gently resting on his sides. You pressed your body into his, pulling away your hair to give him a clear view of the little clasp on your bra. As he reached his arms around you, leaning his head over your shoulder to make sure he was doing it right, you could feel his hands shaking as he tugged at the clasp.

“God dammit…” He whispered angrily under his breath as he struggled to get it undone, “How do you get this fucking thing off?”

“Calm down,” You groaned, leaning your head up to kiss his jaw, your hands carefully moving beneath the hem of his shirt and slowly tracing your fingers along his bare torso. You could feel that his warm body wasn’t used to the foreign touch, “You’re a grown man, you can figure it out.”

Bill groaned and kept whispering to himself, aggravated by the little metal clasp that for some reason he just couldn’t figure out. As much as he didn’t want to, he listened to you, taking a deep breath and moving slowly, and to his surprise the clasps came undone without another issue. You felt your bra loosen around your shoulders and leaned back to pull it away from your body, letting the straps fall down your arms and tossing it away. And Bill couldn’t help but stare again. His arms fell to his sides as his eyes were locked onto your naked breasts, and you could tell when you looked at his face that this was something he had always dreamed of, but now that a half naked girl really was right before him he had no idea what he was doing.

You couldn’t help but smile at his state,

“You know, you’re allowed to touch me?” You said with a snicker.

As if he was waiting for your approval, his hands finally reached up and gently grasped onto the soft skin of your breasts, a quiet breathy moan left his lips, “Oh my god…” He whispered to himself, eyes wide as he gently massaged and kneaded the soft skin. You couldn’t help but smile up at him, so entranced already and all you had to do was take your shirt off.

Your hands grasped the hem of his shirt, tugging it up over his tummy to pull it away,

“Your turn.”

Without a second thought, Bill sat up and pulled at the loose t-shirt on his body, almost ripping at it as he threw it across the room, fixing his glasses after getting caught on the collar. You laid back, taking a slow breath as he towered above you, letting out a surprised gasp as his hands found their way back onto your body. Gently kneading the soft skin of your breasts, and as you looked up to his face you could see he was nearly drooling at the sight beneath him.

His hands moved to the side of your chest as he lowered himself onto you, moaning at the first bit of skin to skin contact he’d ever experienced. He couldn’t help himself from needing to know just how soft you felt beneath his touch. His hands quickly moved back to your chest and he carefully moved himself down your body, his face slowly lowering into the valley between your breasts, gently kissing the areas his lips could reach as he couldn’t stop himself from grinding his hips into you. You could sense his smile against your skin and you slowly lowered one hand into his hair, gently playing with the few strands at the base of his neck as the other one draped onto his back, your fingers tracing little patterns onto his shoulders.

You could hear him whispering to himself and softly giggled as he pushed his face further into your chest,

“So soft…” Bill whispered before slowly lifting his head from the space between your breasts, his eyes peeking up over his frames to see your face as he licked his lips, watching you gasp and lean your head back as they wrapped around a nipple and pulled ever so slightly. His tongue swirled around the sensitive bud before pulling his lips off with a silent pop. Watching your face contort was only encouraging him further to get those intoxicating moans to leave your lips.

As he listened intently for the littlest sound from you, the corners of his lips turned as you took a deep breath and whispered a quiet, “Fuck…” to yourself. Your fingers gently tugging his hair were enough to make him dive in again, his lips leaning down to the other breast, kissing your hardened nipple before taking it between his lips and pulling, releasing it as you let out a breathy moan.

“You’re really good at that.” You complimented him as you tried to slow your breathing back down.

As he leaned down to kiss the other nipple, he looked back up at you, smiling,

“I’ve watched enough porn to learn a few things…”

“Gross,” You giggled, “that’s not something to be proud of, pervert.”

“Yeah?” Bill raised himself up onto his arms, his face hovering over yours, “Well you seem to like it…” He whispered, his lips softly pressing to yours just once.

You smiled up at him, your arms moving to hold the back of his head and move your fingers through his hair. Every word that came out of his mouth was repulsive, but with no prior experience he really knew how to use your body against you. And it only made you curious to see what else he could do to you.

“Have you learned anything else?” Your hands moved to his shoulders, gently pushing him further down your body as you sat yourself up. You carefully moved your body down to the edge of the bed, Bill moving himself down to kneel before you, his face turning redder by the second as his eyes stayed glued onto your face. His hands slowly reached up to rest on the outside of your jean-clad thighs, slowly moving them up and down.

“Like what?”

You shrugged, inching yourself closer and closer to the edge of the bed, your legs wide open as Bill sat between them,

“Maybe you can help me out of these and show me~” You smiled coyly, fingers reaching to the button and zip on your jeans, standing before him as his hands reached up, fingers looped in the belt loops as he tugged the hem down your thighs.

The sight of you in your little cotton panties was enough for him to make a mess of himself, and as you stepped out of your jeans he threw them across the floor and eagerly moved his hands to the hem of your panties before you quickly stopped him.

“Wait!” You head his hands gently as they rested on your hips and sat back down, legs open wide for him to settle his body between them, “Beg.”

Bills eyebrows furrowed in confusion,

“What?”

“Beg.” You ordered, leaning forward to get your face closer to his, teasing him with the thought that if you got close enough he could reach your lips again, “Tell me what you want.”

“No, I’m not begging you.”

“Fine,” You shrugged, getting yourself ready to stand and find your jeans among the mess, “if you don’t want it then-“

“No!” Bill shouted, holding your hips and guiding you back to sit on the edge of the bed, “No, no, I want it…”

“Ok then, tell me.”

Bill fought with himself for a moment. He wanted you, and he wanted you bad.

Everything in his heart was telling him that he couldn’t let you see him like this, watching him beg and writhe for you on the floor, but there was that little part of him that was so willing to do anything and everything you asked. He couldn’t take it.

“I… I want…” He never expected this from himself. He never expected himself to be so close so such a beautiful woman, her body almost fully exposed to him for his eyes and hands to wander over as he pleased. It was humiliating, but so endearing, “I want to eat you out… Please?”

You raised your eyebrows at how badly Bill sounded like he needed you, a smirk came to your lips as you leaned down and gave him just one quick kiss.

“Thank you. And thank you for saying ‘please’, I didn’t expect you to want it that badly…”

“Well, you said ‘beg’…”

You laid back onto your elbows, letting Bill move his fingers back through the sides of your cotton panties, slowly pulling them down your hips. He stopped himself just before letting them fall down your thighs and eagerly anticipated the exposure of your womanhood. He wanted to be able to enjoy himself.

You watched his face closely, and as he pulled off that last little bit of fabric you saw his eyes go wide. His chest was heaving, cheeks bright pink, and his lip quivering just as he slowly dragged your panties down to your ankles. You stepped out of them and opened your legs back up to give him access. All he could do was stare at your body, laid out before him for him to use as he pleased, but all he wanted was to make sure he was doing a good job.

“Fuck…” Bill growled, his teeth clenched, and he couldn’t help but go back to his perverse ways, grabbing damp fabric off of the floor and bringing it to his face, deeply inhaling your scent. Bill groaned, his eyes clenched shut as he breathed you in, and just seeing how drunk with lust he was getting from you only made it seem so much more than what it really was.

You may have hated each other before, but all sane thoughts had left your mind just seeing how drunk Bill was with lust. For a virgin, he really did know all the things that made you dripping wet.

And Bill could see that too.

He smiled to himself as he saw the littlest bit of light gleaming in from a crack in the throw blanket over the window and watched the way your pussy glistened for him. He couldn’t take his eyes off of it and he let your panties drop from between his fingers onto the floor, his hands moving to hold the outside of your thighs, slowly caressing the soft skin beneath his fingertips,

“Oh my god…” He said between heavy breaths, inching closer and closer to your core, so fearful and yet so exhilarated to finally taste the sweet fruits of his labor.

He was the reason you were this wet, he was the reason you were aching for some kind of contact to bring you further to the edge, he was the reason you were writhing with pleasure after every touch.

“Bill?” His eyes glanced up at you on the bed as you summoned him, “You ok?” You giggled.

“Yeah…” He nodded, his head dipping back between your legs, planting a trail of kisses up your inner thighs, “Just lay down.”

You did as he commanded, and as you slowly lowered yourself back onto the mattress you were hit with a wave of instantaneous pleasure as you felt Bills tongue curiously exploring your folds. It was impossible to choke back the string of whines and moans that escaped your throat, and you were done holding back.

He was being so slow and so gentle, being so agonizingly tender it made you wonder if he was doing it out of his own inexperience or if it was because he wanted you to be in excruciating bliss. As long as he kept his head buried in your thighs you didn’t care which one it was.

Second by second, Bill swirled his tongue faster, and as he devoured your sweet juices his hands moved from your thighs to your hips. He gripped onto you tightly, pulling your body closer into him, and you could feel the tip of his nose gently stroke your sensitive pearl. As your toes curled and you let out a yelp of pleasure, it only made him more curious as to what he could make you do for him just from unintentionally toying with the little bundle of nerves.

Everything beyond this point was purely experimental for him.

Bill opened his eyes and did his best to get a good look at you, but with your back arched ever so slightly it was almost impossible to get a good read on your body. He just did whatever felt right. One hand moved from your thigh, his fingers gently trailing up and over your hip, and for just a moment he slowly tore his mouth away from you.

You whimpered at the loss of contact, opening your eyes and prepared to sit back up on your elbows to make sure Bill was ok, but were quickly forced back down by the feeling of 1000 volts of electricity rushing through your body as his fingers found their way to your clit. You gripped the sheets between your fingers so hard you thought if you were pushed just a little further they’d tear, and Bill was using this all to his advantage. He liked how submissive you were to his touch, and every little sound that came from you only told him how good of a job he was doing.

“Fuck…” You groaned out as Bill brought you closer and closer to your release.

You couldn’t see it, but the smile on his lips stayed cemented as he dove back into you, licking long flat stripes with his tongue over your folds. All he wanted was the joy of knowing that of all people, he was the one pushing you over the edge. As he felt your hand slowly move over the top of his head, fingers intertwined in his hair and tugging so gently to keep him put, his eyes shut tight. He could already feel himself making a mess of his sweatpants, not being able to hold back how you were able to make him leak just from laying there and taking it.

“ ‘M getting close…” You whined out, your fingers tightening their grip in his hair and Bill quickened his pace, burying his face into your thighs and completely losing control of himself. The mixture of your own juices and his saliva were dripping down his chin, and he could feel your hips instinctively try to jerk back but he pulled you back into his tongue each time you felt your own body betray you by pulling you away from such bliss.

“Bill… Bill…” His name slipped from your lips like a prayer over and over again, and finally hearing you cry out for him was all he needed to help you cross over that threshold. With one final twist of his tongue he heard your cries of pleasure and pulled himself away, catching his breath as he stared up at you on the bed.

Eyes closed, face red, your lips were parted and trembling as you slowly relaxed yourself into the bed, taking deep breaths to slowly bring you back down from your high.

Bill grabbed one of the stray pieces of clothes from the floor and wiped your juices from his chin, smiling up at you as his head rested on your thigh,

“You’re a fucking mess…” He chuckled, slowly standing himself up from the floor.

You groaned as you sat up onto your elbows, pulling the rest of your body back onto the bed and giving your legs a rest from their wide open position. With one last exhale, you looked up at him with a smile on your lips,

“I guess you did learn a little bit.”

“Told you.” He said with an eye roll, reaching his hand out to help lift you to sit upright. You took it graciously and the feeling of his hand in yours lingered before pulling it back down to rest at your side. As your eyes moved down his body, you couldn’t help your cheeks turning pink upon seeing how hard he was from the bulge in his sweats. And he was bigger than you anticipated.

“My turn…” His hands grabbed onto the waistband of his sweats and before he could pull them down his hips you stopped him,

“Wait.”

“What? Are you ok?” Bill looked to your face for any sign of discomfort but when he saw your eyes, glazed over with lust, looking up at him he knew that you were just going to toy with him further.

“Let me do it?” You asked, your fingers looping into the waistband of his sweats and gently tugging, almost as if asking for permission.

A shiver went down Bills spine, and you could sense him trembling under your touch, but he looked to you and nodded. You kept your eyes on his as you slowly pulled the fabric down his hips, your eyes moving back down as you noticed him getting caught on the waistband.

A quiet giggle escaped your lips as you exposed his manhood, popping out of his boxers and bobbing just before your eyes. He wasn’t huge by any means, but he certainly wasn’t small. And with the way the last hour had gone you were hoping and praying that he’d be a perfect fit inside you. His body was shaking as you finished pulling the fabric down to his ankles and you moved your hands up to caress the top of his thighs as he stepped out of them, kicking them away.

Bill didn’t know if he should be exhilarated or afraid when he noticed your gaze lingering on his groin.

“What?”

“Hm?” You peeked up at him and flashed a quick smile before averting your eyes back to his cock, “Nothing.” Finally having the real thing there before your eyes only made those thoughts come back into your head.

All the nights you spent with that piece of silicone between your legs, twisting yourself into uncomfortable positions just to make it feel a little more real, having your roster of men flipping through your brain like TV channels, and Bill was at the end of every one of them. Without a doubt, he was always the last person that came to mind, the last person you’d ever imagine having you feeling the way you felt during those lonely nights, the last person that you thought of before you came each and every time. Even through all the hatred, all the bitterness, it felt so surreal to see that he was right there before you.

Your eyes glanced up to his and you knew exactly why he stood there trembling,

“Don’t worry, I like it.” You whispered before moving a hand up to gently hold it at the base, leaning in and gently planting a wet open-mouth kiss to the tip.

Bills body gave into your touch almost instantly, a whine escaping his lips as he felt your kiss and nearly fainted from the euphoria.

“Ohh fuck~” You giggled as he placed his hand onto your shoulder to balance himself,

“Sorry…”

“It’s ok.” You giggled, taking your hand away from his member, “Why don’t you lay down? I think that’ll make it a little easier for both of us.”

“Can’t I just sit?” Bill asked as he sat next to you on the end of the mattress.

“No, I’m already on this gross bed, I’m not getting on your disgusting floor.”

“It’s not that bad!” Bill looked behind him and tossed the few comics that were tangled in with the blanket onto the floor, “There, clean bed.”

“Sure, ‘clean’.” You giggled, “Just go sit against the back of the couch, it’ll be more comfortable that way.”

Bill did as you commanded, slowly moving himself until his back was against the dark sofa cushions. He breathed slow and opened his legs for you to maneuver between them and watched as you crawled towards him, his hands already gently holding the sheets just from watching the way your body was swaying closer and closer.

“Comfortable?” You asked as you nestled yourself between his legs, hands slowly caressing his thighs.

Bill nodded and watched you intently, and as one hand wrapped back around the base you leaned down and the tip of your tongue gently licked over his slit. His breath caught in his throat and you could feel his body tense beneath you. You tried your best to flip your hair over your shoulders but it was no use, and you looked up to him from his lap,

“You could be a gentleman and hold my hair back.”

“Sorry,” Bill said with a chuckle, his hands reaching out and gently combing back the hair around your face with his fingers, collecting it and holding it back for you, “I wouldn’t know, I’ve never done this shit before.”

You smirked up at him before licking his tip again, your eyes glancing up to his face seeing that he was torn between watching you or clenching his eyes shut in bliss. Slowly, you planted kisses all along his length, making sure to linger your lips over the head just to see how sensitive it was for him. As he finally let his head tilt back against the cushion, you smiled and gently wrapped your lips around the head, suckling gently as you listened to each and every noise that slipped from his lips. The moans, whines and whimpers coming from him were enough to make you want to keep your mouth wrapped around him for as long as he asked.

Your lips enveloped the tip, suckling gently before slowly taking more and more past your lips, making sure to keep a steady pace as your head bobbed up and down in his lap. Bills hand was still wrapped tightly in your hair, and he was making sure to not push your head down further and force it all down your throat, he was too eager and it felt too good to not want to fuck your mouth, but he was being a gentleman. It didn’t come all that natural to him, but he was trying so hard to make this enjoyable for you.

Little by little, inch by inch, you lowered your lips onto him to see how deep you could take him, and as soon as you found that perfect spot of comfort you pulled your lips almost all the way off before sliding them back down to the base, eating a dragged out moan from Bill. You couldn’t stop.

With every little sound he made it was only making you want it more and more, hollowing out your cheeks each time you went back for more to tighten what little wiggle room there was. You could taste him at the back of your throat, and even though it had been only minutes since you began you could sense he was close from the way his body tensed around you.

“F-fuck…” He groaned through gritted teeth, “I think I’m gonna cum…” Just then you pulled your lips off with a silent pop, catching your breath as you sat up. Bills hand loosened its grip on your hair and looked to you with confusion, “That’s not fair.” He said in between breaths, “I made you cum, didn’t I?”

“You did.” You said with a smile, wiping the little bit of saliva off of your swollen lips, leaning your body up and giving him a quick kiss, “But my hand moves faster…”

You stayed in your upright position in his lap, moving your legs around to straddle his thigh and give yourself a bit more balance as one hand wrapped back around his cock, the other moving to hold the top of the cushion next to his head. Your hand was slowly pumping up and down, keeping your eyes glued onto his cock and smiling as you saw how hard he was trying to hold himself back. The pre-cum that was overflowing from his tip was providing the perfect lubricant for you to move just a bit faster, the wet sounds echoing in the room in between every whine that came from Bill. His chest was heaving, head tilted back on the couch cushion with his eyes clenched shut just enjoying every second he could. Relishing in every moment that your hands were on each other.

Your grip tightened and the dragged out moan that left his lips was enough to tell you that you were getting him close. You pumped faster and faster, those little whimpers encouraging you each and every time to go back in for more just to hear them one more time. Hearing him writhe beneath your touch made your heart race, yearning to feel him so close to you once more, and you knew that moment would come after he did. And as you watched his hands gripping at the sheets to his sides, nearly tearing them from the frustration of holding himself back for you, you leaned your lips close to his ear and whispered,

“I want you to cum for me~”

You felt his hips jerk up into your hand as he groaned, his head leaning further back onto the cushion as he completely let himself become submissive to your touch.

“Come on, it’s ok,” You whispered to him, “cum for me i know you want to.”

His body seized beneath you, his hips thrusting upward into your hand and with a few final agonizing strokes you watched as Bill painted his tummy with long spurts of his seed. He looked down at the mess he made of himself and his face went red, leaning it back against the cushion as he caught his breath, a few strands of his greasy hair stuck to his forehead.

“I’m sorry…” He said between breaths, your hand moving up to brush the hair away from his face, “your hands are a lot softer than mine…” He smiled before closing his eyes, breathing deep to get his heart rate back to normal, “I didn’t cum too fast, did I?”

You shook your head and smiled, “No, you didn’t.” You giggled, “Did it feel good having someone else do it?”

Bill nodded his head and lifted it back off of the back couch cushions, his hand reaching up to hold your cheek and pull you in close, his lips meeting yours again in an embrace of passion, “So good…” He said between kisses, “so much better…”

It was odd. He was being so gentle, so tender in this moment that it was sending sparks through your body with every movement of your lips. You never would’ve expected this kind of loving nature from him, but having him hold you so close while his lips softly and slowly moved with your own made you want him more and more with every passing second.

Everything he had done since the beginning made you want him more and more as the seconds went by. Maybe you didn’t hate him as much as you thought. He may have been an asshole but he was constantly checking for your consent at every chance he could, not being to cocky even after talking a big game and being so gentle with your body when it was in his hands, and this little bit of tenderness he was showing you after making a complete mess of himself was the last little bit of convincing you needed to realize that whenever he popped up in the back of your mind during those lonely nights, is because you wanted him to be there.

You slowly pulled back and your eyes glanced down to his stomach, not being able to stifle your giggles,

“Now who’s made a mess of themselves?”

“Shut up.” He chuckled, “I couldn’t help it, you’re really good at that. I guess I’m not the only guy you’ve whored yourself out to, huh?”

“I’m not whoring myself out to you,” You said with an eye roll, reaching over and grabbing one of the stray shirts thrown onto the back of the couch cushions, handing it to Bill to clean himself up, “I’m doing you a favor. And the only reason I’m doing you a favor is because you’re going to do me a favor. Eventually.”

“Still not telling me?” He asked, sitting himself up and using the shirt to wipe up his mess, “You’re not going to try and make me ‘change my ways’ or some bullshit like that, right?”

You shrugged and leaned forward and gave him one last kiss,

“You’ll find out after I let you fuck me.”

Bill tossed the soiled shirt away and watched as you laid yourself out on the mattress, your hand reaching down between your legs to gently rub the sensitive bud he took advantage of, still so sensitive to touch. He quickly regained his stamina, climbing over you with a smile on his face, his body resting between your legs as his hands kept him propped up just above your shoulders.

“Really? You’re ready for it now?” He couldn’t hide his excitement amy longer, and you felt how quickly he hardened against your leg.

You nodded slowly reached your hands up, holding the back of his neck and pulling his face close to yours,

“Go slow. Be gentle. You do exactly as I say.” You ordered. Bill nodded and looked down between your bodies, maneuvering his hips down and watching to line himself up with your entrance before you stopped him, “Not now!”

“What?” He looked back up to you with his eyebrows furrowed, moving himself back away from your entrance as you asked.

“Get a condom, I’m not letting you cum in me.”

“Oh, right, uh…” His eyes wandered all over the basement, trying to remember if he even had any stored down there, or anywhere for that matter, “Shit…”

“You do have one, right?”

“Uh, yeah…” He sat up from between your legs and crawled down to the end of the bed, looking all over the dirtied basement trying to remember if Pete had left that little box he brought a few weeks ago, “somewhere…”

By this point you couldn’t deny your body what it had been aching for for weeks. You leaned yourself up and knelt next to him on the bed, your hand grabbing his jaw and turning his face to you,

“You better fucking have one, I need you to fuck me.”

As you let go, you could see the gears in his head turning, his eyes looking over every shelf and desktop for just the littlest flash reflecting off of the metallic packaging as you laid yourself back onto the mattress.

“Don’t worry, I’ll get one.” Bill hopped up from the bed and tried to remember where one could possibly be. He rethought that whole night trying desperately to think of where they would’ve been hidden.

The guys coming over for another ‘club meeting’, tackling one another over some bullshit regarding who’s kept who’s comic for longer, ordering way too much pizza using his moms credit card while they rewatched The X-Files for the millionth time, Pete talking about meeting some girl at a bar and how he was finally going to get lucky and brought out a box of condoms that he forgot about on the…

“Side table…” Bill whispered to himself as he quickly darted his attention to the cluttered table in between the couches arm rest and one of the various comic filled bookshelves.

He leaned over and pushed off the empty cans and mini chip bags, making sure not to accidentally knock over the dirtied ash tray with a half smoked joint still resting on the side, finally finding that familiar little box hiding underneath one of the empty video game cases. He smiled in disbelief, moving back to kneel between your legs as he struggled with the small cardboard box.

“Wow,” You giggled as you watched him try to hurriedly open the box, eventually relying on his teeth to tear the top away, “I’m shocked you actually had any down here, there’s no fucking way you were able to get a girl in bed. Especially in this filth.”

“Yeah? Well I got you down here, didn’t I?” Bill chuckled, tearing off one of the foil packets from the connected serrated edges.

“I guess you’re right.” Your eyes watched as Bill pulled out the condom, tossing the wrapper to the floor and slowly sliding the lubricated latex down the length of his cock.

Bill took one last deep breath before reassuming his position from before, his body resting between your legs, hands just a move your shoulders to balance himself over you, his cock hovering over your entrance. You adjusted your body beneath him, hands moving to hold his forearms as you looked up to him.

This was it. The moment you had stuck in the back of your mind for weeks, your body aching for him in ways even you didn’t understand, and it felt so surreal. All the times you spent glaring at him for even bothering to be in your presence, all the times you felt his eyes on you whenever he passed by, all the times he interrupted you speaking just to be able to get the last word in for whatever bullshit reasons he kept to himself, it all felt like it was for nothing. All for you to end up naked beneath him, waiting for him to fuck you senseless like you had imagined so many times before.

“Ready?” Bill asked, pulling you from your trance, and as he saw you slowly nod your head he turned his vision between your bodies.

Bill tried to control his breathing, inching himself closer and closer to your entrance and you could sense his slight hesitation.

“Bill?” You said quietly, his attention averting back up to you, “Are you ok?”

He was silent, but you could see the anxiety pooling in his eyes, so excited and yet so nervous to be doing the one thing he had always dreamed of. You weren’t sure what it was that made him so suddenly lose all confidence he seemed to have before, but if he was ready you’d make sure to help him stay ready.

“Nervous?” You asked, Bill nodding back slowly. “It’s ok to be nervous,” You smiled to help ease a little bit of the tension, your eyes meeting his, “do you want me to help?”

Bill looked back down between your bodies before giving you a little nod, your hand slowly reaching down to gently grasp his cock and guide it to your entrance, “Right here, you do the rest ok? And remember, slow and gentle, do as I say.”

“Right… slow and gentle…” Bill said quietly, taking one last deep breath before ever so slightly bringing his hips forward, watching your face for any sign of discomfort as he pushed himself into you, finally crossing that threshold.

You breathed slow, a shaky exhale leaving your lips at the first initial stretch, feeling him sink deeper into you. Bill took his time, soaking in the euphoria of your warmth as he pushed himself in deeper and deeper, trying so hard to hold himself back from cumming too soon again, all from the soft tightness of your walls squeezing around him.

It didn’t feel anything like what you were used to with anyone else.

The initial burning of that first stretch was nonexistent, your walls were consuming him so easily and every single moment of it was pure bliss. You could feel him sinking deeper into your body, his hips nearly pressed to yours and as you looked up at his face you could see how focused he was on making sure that this was good for you. His lip quivering, shaking breaths leaving his throat, and every few moments he’d look back up to you just to see if he was doing everything the way he was supposed to. When his eyes met yours he stopped, hips pressed to yours as he was fully sheathed between your legs.

As Bill peered into your eyes he felt as if he could feel your soul staring right back into his.

“You can move. Slow.” You whispered to him, getting a quick nod in response as Bills eyes went back down between your bodies, watching as he slowly pulled himself from you, only to push himself back in to the hilt.

When he heard a gentle whine escape your lips, he took it as a sign of good faith that he was doing well.

“Keep going…” You stuttered between breaths, your arms slowly wrapping around his shoulders to hold him as he hovered over you, your body moving with every slow thrust, “ohh fuck…”

Bill smiled to himself as he watched your face contort with pleasure after every gentle thrust, your moans and whines sounding like the most beautiful symphony he’d ever heard, and it was all for him.

“Can I… Can I go faster?” Bill asked, almost begging you to let him fuck you like he’d always thought about whenever he had his hand wrapped around his cock, but the overdone moans and groans that came from his monitor didn’t compare to the real thing.

You said nothing, only nodding to him as you let your body become consumed with the agonizing pleasure he was bringing you.

With every thrust Bill made he was inching you closer and closer to the edge, but you wanted to drag it out for as long as possible. Where was the fun in keeping it quick? All those months of nonstop hatred, the dirty looks and stares, the comments under your breath and the irritating way he would walk around you like he had you wrapped around his finger all because you couldn’t snap back. Why bother keeping it short when he was wrapped around your pretty little finger, making you a mess on his dirty basement sleeper sofa like you expected him to every lonely night that you were left with your thoughts.

As your eyes slowly opened hearing Bill trying so hard to choke back the moans you were dying to hear, it was almost as if he could see into your mind. He was towering over you, your bodies moving in sync with every thrust, his face red and his eyes clenched shut in bliss, it was almost cute to see how flustered you had made him all from giving him the one thing every pervert in his 20’s would’ve only dreamed of.

Bill let his fantasies get the best of him, suddenly remembering that he didn’t have to keep his eyes closed to think about all the dirty things he wanted to do to you. He didn’t have to use his imagination to pretend your warm body was there in his lap while he was sat in front of his monitor, thrusting into his hand and pretending it was you. With every noise that came from your lips, every creak that came from that shoddy mattress, every time he felt his body tingle with each push back into you only built his confidence more and more, and as he opened his eyes and looked down upon your figure beneath him he was consumed with a greediness that could only be satisfied by having you writhe beneath him, begging him to make you cum.

He carefully repositioned himself, adjusting his pace as he sat himself up onto his knees, his hands moving from beside your head to firmly gripping onto your waist, pulling your body into him each time he drove his cock back into you. Bill couldn’t help but let out the same bliss filled whines as he picked up his pace, looking down between your bodies as he watched himself fuck you into submission. He smiled as he let this newfound cockiness consume him.

“Look at me.” He demanded, your eyes slowly prying open and looking up through the frames nearly falling off the bridge of his nose from the gentle sheen on sweat on his brow, “Tell me how good it feels…” He groaned through gritted teeth, “Tell me how good it feels when I fuck you.”

“It feels so good… fuck~” You whined as you tried to keep your eyes on him, “It feels so fucking good… You’re the only person that’s made me feel like this…” Bill smiled wider as he watched you struggle to keep focused, watching the euphoria overcome you as he felt your walls start to tighten around him. He picked up his pace, his hands moving from your waist to your hips and guided one of your legs to hook around his waist, drilling into you.

“Use me…” Bill heard you whine out, watching as you were hit with a sudden burst of energy as the white hot burning in your core was getting brighter and brighter. With the sudden burst of adrenaline you leaned yourself up as much as you could, one hand holding your legs open for him as the other went behind his neck, pulling him closer to you, his forehead pressed to yours, “Use me until you can’t, please…”

You could feel the tears pricking your eyes, not being able to hold back the surge of emotions. No one had ever filled you with such pleasure, such passion, that it had made your body completely forget all functions. It was bliss. Pure, agonizing bliss. And Bill was the one to make you feel this way.

He moved one hand away from your waist and held the back of your neck, keeping you close as he felt himself start to get sloppy with his thrusts. Each push back into you was one more moment closer to release, and he could tell that meant for you as well as he felt your fingers gripping onto his hair.

“Oh f-fuck…” Bill groaned, not being able to hold himself back any longer, “I think I’m gonna cum… Are you close?”

You held onto him tightly, whimpering as you nodded to him, not able to make out the proper words as the excruciating ecstasy flowed through your veins. You knew it would take mere moments before you felt that rush through your body once more, and with a few final thrusts you gripped onto Bill tightly, eyes clenched shut as your legs wrapped around his waist to pull him in just one last time. With one final drawn out moan from him, his thrusts slowed as he filled the condom and carefully laid himself over you.

The silence that filled the room was a serene stillness as the two of you were tangled in each others arms, Bill still buried deep inside you as you caught your breath. You waited patiently for your orgasm to wash over your body, giving yourself time to recollect your thoughts and emotions before fully realizing what had just occurred.

You had sex with Bill Dickey, and it was the best you’ve ever had.

Slowly, Bill lifted himself off of your body and carefully pulled himself out of you, maneuvering himself to lay next to you on the sleeper sofa as he pulled off the filled condom and tied off the end. He tossed it into the full garbage can next to the arm of the couch and reached over to pull the dark throw blanket over your bodies. Maybe it was just instinct, but you curled up to his side, resting your head onto his chest as your breath finally slowed to a normal pace once more, the aching between your legs finally subsided.

“Fuck…” Bill said with an exhale, his arm slowly moving around your shoulder to hold you to his side, “You don’t mind if I smoke do you?” He asked as his eyes caught the ash tray on the side table, the half smoked joint still resting in it.

You smiled up at him and giggled to yourself quietly, unsure if you were shocked or not at the fact that that was the first thing he’d said to you after taking his virginity.

“No. Not if you share.”

He reached his other arm over, making sure to still keep you at his side as he grasped the joint with his fingers, quickly grabbing the lighter next to it. He brought the filter to his lips and lit the end of it, taking a deep inhale and slowly blew the smoke from his lips before passing it to you,

“Um, you know…” Bill started, keeping his eyes on his lap as his hand reached up to brush away the few strands of hair stuck to his forehead, “to be honest with you, I didn’t think I would really ever, uh… you know, do that, with anyone. So, uh… thank you.”

It was odd to hear him speak and not be repulsed by every word, but there was something in his voice that made it sound so sincere. He really never had the thought in his head that he would even get close to kissing, let alone sleeping with a girl, and yet it had all happened so quickly. His quick little ‘thank you’ wouldn’t seem all that honest to some, but after the time you had spent with him in that dirty basement, making him feel the way he never thought a woman would want to make him feel, you could tell he was being truthful with every word.

“Don’t mention it.” You said with a smile, holding back a chuckle to keep from choking on the smoke as you exhaled and handed the joint back to Bill.

“So am I like… your boyfriend now, or something?” He asked before placing it back between his lips.

“No.” You said with a laugh, finally looking up at him as he tapped the end of the joint into the ashtray, and oddly enough he looked quite good with his messy hair and the smoke billowing from his lips, “You are not my boyfriend.” You could see in his eyes that he was a bit hurt at your bluntness, but you smirked up to him as you took the joint from between his fingers and brought it back to your lips, “But, that did remind me of the little favor you owe me after doing all that for you.”

“Oh yeah, that.” He chuckled and looked down at you, “What do you want? I’m willing to be generous too, especially after how good it felt….”

“Oh thank you,” You rolled your eyes with a scoff and took one more puff before passing the joint back to him, “how kind.”

Bill shrugged with a smirk, blowing the smoke past his lips, “It’s the least I can do for you after doing all that porn star shit for me.”

Even after all your done for him, he just couldn’t help but go right back to his insufferable self immediately after. But, you’d be lying if you said you didn’t expect it. His type doesn’t change, unless given the right circumstances.

“For starters, you could be nice to me.” You inched yourself to sit up a bit more to look at him directly. “That would be nice, especially after all I did for you.”

Bill took another drag from the joint between his fingers before handing it back to you, blowing the smoke the other direction before turning his attention to you. It’s nearly impossible to try and ignore a naked girl asking for your attention.

“Alright.” He shrugged, “I could try it.”

“Thank you for trying,” You said with a laugh, taking a quick puff from the joint, “I’d like an apology first.”

“An apology?” He asked with a confused look on his face, lips curled like he wanted to laugh at the mere mention of an apology from him, “For what?”

“For what?” You scoffed, taking another quick puff and preparing yourself for the storm you were about to send his way, “I’ve had to go around you for the last few weeks and act like you didn’t piss me off because I was on the clock. I’ve had to ignore your gross comments and weird stares, I’ve had to ignore your incessant bothering during the times where I’m supposed to be teaching your sister, I’ve had to ignore the fact that every time I’ve been here you’ve caused me to leave with the worst taste in my mouth about you, and I just had sex with you. So I’d like an apology for the way you’ve treated me.” You offered the last hit of the joint to him, and watched him closely for a reaction.

Bill sat there silently for a moment, taking in every word you had just said as he took the last puff of the joint before asking it into the little ashtray on the side table.

You were right. He would go out of his way to annoy you, to make you feel like no matter what he could have his eyes on you while you were there because that’s all you were there for. For him to ogle and smirk at because you had to be there, for him to try and do whatever he could to get a reaction from you because at least then you had to interact with him. He was irritating and he was a slob and yet still, you had sex with him. You at the very least deserved an apology.

“You’re right.” He said plainly, looking down at you, “I shouldn’t have treated you like that, you didn’t deserve it. I’m sorry.”

It was nice to finally hear those honest words leave his lips, and you smiled up at him, thankful that he at least had the decency to understand the importance of it to you. Wether he wanted to apologize or not, he still did it, and he didn’t listen to anyone but himself. You must’ve put quite the spell on him.

“Thank you.” You leaned in close to him and gently kissed his lips, catching him blush as you pulled away, “And, since you were so nice about it, I think I have an offer you may like.”

“Yeah?” He asked with a smirk, his arm moving back around your shoulder to pull you in close, “Let’s hear it.”

“Well…” You smiled, looking away from him as your cheeks went red, trying hard to hide your flustered state, “If you keep being nice to me, I’ll keep having sex with you.”

“Really?” Bill asked with a smile, shocked you would even consider doing something like that again with him, but happy nonetheless, “Oh, baby, I’ll do whatever the fuck you tell me to do…”

He leaned over you again and pushed his lips to yours, holding your hip and pulling your body into his. You smiled against him but quickly moved your hand up into his hair and pulled him back,

“Not now!” You giggled, “I’m not going to make it that easy for you.”

“Sorry,” Bill laughed, pulling himself away but still keeping you close, “Then when’s the next time we can do this?”

“I don’t know.” You shrugged, “I’m back again next week, and if you can make a few changes by then I wouldn’t mind seeing your room~” You smiled, your fingers gently playing with the ends of his hair.

“I can do that.” Bill smiled, his cheeks still lightly tinted pink, “What kind of changes are we talking about?”

“Well, since you asked…” You smiled to yourself, ready to list off every little thing you could just to see if he could do it in only a weeks time, but even doing half would be enough for you. It would show at the very least that he was trying. “You could clean a little more, and that includes yourself. And you could stop eating all this junk and locking yourself away down here or in your bedroom like a hermit, I’m sure sunlight would do you some good. And maybe if you didn’t spend all your money, or your moms money, on all your comics and shit you might be able to afford a car. Or if you got a job-“

“Ok! I get it!” He shouted, not prepared to hear you list off item after item, “So I’ll just stop being me.”

“Hold on, I didn’t say that.” You looked back up to him and met his eyes through the black frames resting on his nose, “I’m not saying change every little thing about yourself, I’m just expecting you to act your age. I want to hear more about you, and I’d like for you to tell me about all the stuff you like, as long as you’re willing to hear about all the things I like. But, you need to start taking some responsibility.”

Bill nodded along as he listened, and though having to change his norms was something he considered only a second to torture, he was willing to do it. For you. Just as long as you kept up your end.

“Ok. I can try.” He said with a slight smile.

You couldn’t help but smile back and leaned your body up, giving him a quick but tender kiss before laying yourself back down onto his arms, “So, uh… How do I start?” Bill asked.

You nuzzled more into his body, his warmth and the scent of his natural musk helped soothe your body further as you relaxed into him,

“For now? Just hold me…”

“I can do that.” He said with a smile, allowing you a bit more space as his hand slowly moved up and down your shoulder.

You could feel him resting his head against yours, and you smiled as you felt his lips softly press to your forehead. As you lay there enjoying the moment, one last thought popped back into your head.

“Bill?” You asked him, not moving from your place at his body. He answered back with a quiet ‘hm?’ before you sat up and looked to him, your eyebrows furrowed, “Why did you have my wallet?”

#eltingville club #the eltingville club #bill dickey smut #bill dickey x y/n #bill dickey x reader #bill dickey fanfic #bill the eltingville club #bill dickey x you #eltingville bill #bill dickey x fem reader #bill dickey fanfiction #bill dickey fluff #bill dickey x yn #bill dickey

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heart-of-ep · 3 days ago

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Elvis: Through Her Lens (Chapter Three)

(Elvis Presley × OC Reader)

Character/Fandom: Elvis Presley

Read More Here: Elvis: Through Her Lens (coming soon)

Prompt: You are Minnie Jones, an aspiring photographer working for the LA Sentinel. Your chief editor is looking for a story that will help boost the popularity of the paper, so an opportunity comes knocking when Colonel Tom Parker approaches him with a new 'snowjob.' After a tentative first meeting with the Colonel, and his star Elvis Presley, you are hired on to follow Elvis around as his personal photographer in an attempt to catch lightening in a bottle twice with the earlier success of the Alfred Wertheimer photos. Along the way, you develop a close bond with Elvis, leading to complications in your relationship when the issues of his marriage and eventual drug usage start to put a strain on your relationship. Constantly fighting your ever-growing feelings for him, you are swept up into the whirlwind of Elvis' world which forces you to see the King of Rock 'n' Roll through a new lens.

Tags: Slow burn. Angst. Drama. Friends to lovers (sort of).

TW: None. Cussing?

Rating: PG-13 (ish) (may get spicy but won't be explicit as I don't enjoy writing smut lol but cursing, possible violence, and infidelity will appear throughout the story)

Word Count: 5.6k

Author's Note: Alright yall, things are starting to kick off with this chapter, and I'm very excited about it. It's quite a bit longer than the previous two chapters so I hope you enjoy!

I have to say, I had a blast researching the Houston Astrodome cause 1970 is a major hyperfixation for me, and I actually learned a lot while looking up all the info for this chapter (and the next 👀) so I'm just gonna be living vicariously through Minnie. 🤭

I apologize in advance for the slow burn nature of this fic, but I promise things will get spicy/angsty soon! ♡

Elvis at the Houston Airport for a press conference on February 25th, 1970.

After reviewing the contract with you, and making sure you were absolutely sure that you still wanted to do it, Pierce had you sign it, hesitating to sign it himself. He was more than a little skeptical of Colonel Tom Parker, which you couldn’t necessarily blame him for. You did your best to reassure him once the two of you left the Hillcrest home.

“Don’t worry, Pierce. The Colonel might be a bit…strange, but Elvis seems interested in the project.” You told him as he drove you back to the office to collect your camera and film before heading home to pack.

“I just can’t put my finger on it, Minn. He just rubs me the wrong way.” Pierce frowned before sighing. “But I suppose Elvis seems nice enough. Though, I wouldn’t fall for his charm. He’s had a fair few scandals involving women he works with.” He pointed out.

You rolled your eyes. “I’m not worried about Elvis Presley seducing me. For one, he’s married.” You reminded him.

“Yeah, ‘cause that’s stopped people in the past.” He said sarcastically.

“Pierce, I’ll be fine. I’ve been around my fair share of charming men, it doesn’t mean I’ll fall for it.” You said, though you secretly knew that Elvis was very different from any other man you’d ever met.

Different and very beautiful.

You shoved the intrusive thought from your mind, refusing to let yourself get hung up on how good looking he was. You weren’t about to be one of many other women who fell for the King of Rock ‘n’ Roll. After all, you were there to do a job, and you weren’t going to get distracted along the way.

Once you collected your things from the office, you quickly drove back to your apartment to get your clothes packed. Elvis would be in Houston for at least a week for the Astrodome shows and any of its corresponding press conferences, so you needed to figure out everything to take. And you weren’t familiar with Houston weather which presented a problem of its own. After a while of debating what to bring, you decided to call up your girlfriend, Vivien to get her advice, and quite frankly you just needed someone to talk to about all of this.

“Elvis Presley?!” Vivien practically squealed, causing you to pull the phone away from your ear.

“Yes, Elvis Presley.” You said, rolling your eyes as you lifted your suitcase up onto your bed.

“Wait, hold on, Minn. You can’t be serious. I mean, you’re kidding, right?” She asked, sounding skeptical now instead of excited.

You frowned a bit. “Why would I be lying, Viv? Look, it's not a big deal.” You paused for a moment. “Well, it is sort of a big deal, but it’s just a job. A very exciting job, but a job nonetheless.” You explained.

“Just a job? Minn, are you sure you’re not high right now?”

“Very funny.” You rolled your eyes again. “I know it’s a lot, and I am excited, but I have to keep a leveled head about all of this. I don’t think Elvis wants another screaming girl bothering him.” You pointed out.

“Hm…I suppose you’re right, but this is still a huge deal! God, do you know how much I’ve dreamed about meeting Elvis?” She groaned. “Tell me, does he look just as good in person?” She asked curiously.

You hesitated for a moment, thinking back to those beautiful blue eyes of his, his soft pouty lips, and that full spirited laugh that made you feel warm inside…you quickly snapped out of your daze before the thought could go any further. “I uh…I didn’t really notice.” You mumbled.

“Sure you didn’t.” You could just hear the smile on her lips.

You sighed. “Can we focus? I have no idea what I’m supposed to wear. Business or casual?”

“Well, you’re not exactly going into the office.” She pointed out. “Besides, you’ll be traveling with Elvis Presley. You have to pack in style.”

You wanted to tell her that it was silly to dress to specifically impress Elvis, but you figured everyone in his company (especially the women) dressed to fit in with his style. You recalled seeing a few photos of Elvis with Priscilla in the paper and remembered how pretty and stylish she looked. But you quickly reminded yourself that you were working as his photographer, nothing else.

“So when are you leaving?” Vivien asked as you pulled out a coat from your closet, the only coat you owned, and folded it up neatly into your suitcase.

“Tomorrow.” You sighed. “Pierce is losing his shit, you know. He thinks this whole thing is going to end up exploding in our face because of that manager, Colonel Parker.” You shook your head as you sat down on the edge of your bed.

“Pierce always has a stick up his ass.” She reminded you. “Besides, you’ve done celebrity pieces before this. I can’t imagine this will be any different. That is unless you plan on sleeping with him.”

“Viv!” You shot back before shaking your head. “I’m starting to think that telling you about all of this was a bad idea.” You muttered.

“Oh, trust me it wasn’t a bad idea. And you’re going to keep me updated on all of this.” She said as a matter of fact.

You frowned a bit, but realized she was probably right. It’s not like you could talk to Pierce about any of it. You glanced at the clock, sighing when you noticed how late it was already. “Thanks, Viv. I’ll call you once I get settled in at the hotel.”

“Just try and have fun, Minn. I know it’s your job, but this is a once in a lifetime opportunity.”

You nodded a bit and smiled. “Yeah, I’ll try. I’ll talk to you later.” You said before hanging up the phone. You sighed and looked over at your suitcase before pushing yourself to finish packing the rest of your clothes, placing your extra packs of film on top.

You had no idea what to expect when you showed up at the airport tomorrow, but you knew it would be the beginning of something new and exciting.

~*~*~

When you showed up at LAX in the morning, after Pierce picked you up from your apartment, you could hardly contain your excitement. “Just think about it, Pierce. We’re going to have photos that no other paper in the world will have. The LA Sentinel will practically fly off the shelves.” You grinned.

“It better, or there won’t be an LA Sentinel.” Pierce muttered. “Just keep your head on straight. And don’t let this Presley fellow distract you.”

You rolled your eyes. “Pierce, you act like I’m just going to bend over the moment I see him.” You shot back. “Elvis Presley might be the world’s biggest flirt, but all I care about is getting the perfect picture.”

“I suppose. I guess if any woman can reject his advances it would be you.” He smirked a bit.

You slapped his arm playfully, smiling again as he parked the car on the private hanger that the Colonel had directed you to meet them at. You were surprised to find out that Elvis didn’t have a private jet, even Frank SInatra had that, but that didn’t stop him from being able to borrow one to fly him and his whole crew to whatever city he needed them in. You looked up at the jet as you stepped out of the car, ignoring the general nerves that attacked you every time you had to fly somewhere, and instead focused on the excitement of the whole situation.

You immediately noticed a couple cars already parked and waiting around the jet, a handful of men that you assumed worked for Elvis standing around waiting for him to arrive while someone loaded the luggage onto the plane. Pierce pulled your suitcase out of the trunk and walked with you over to the group, his gaze immediately searching for any sign of Elvis or the Colonel.

“I don’t think it would be such a bad thing if that Colonel got left behind.” Pierce muttered, and you jabbed him in the ribs, an amused smile crossing your face. You almost wished he was tagging along so you wouldn’t be going completely solo, but you knew you didn’t have much choice. The chief editor couldn’t exactly leave the office for a week. “Looks like Presley has six shows lined up in Houston, so you’re going to be pretty busy, Minn. Remember, we need to get photos that no one else will have.” He reminded me.

You nodded. “I know. Don’t worry, I won’t let you down.” You smiled confidently.

He nodded and cracked a small smile. “I know you won’t.” He said before clapping me on the shoulder. “Keep your head on straight. Remember, a reporter trusts no one.” You nodded, though you didn’t exactly take that too close to heart. Unlike an official reporter, a photographer was meant to get close to their subject.

You turned your gaze away from Pierce and surveyed the group of men, immediately recognizing a couple of them from Elvis’ house. Charlie, the shorter fellow, was standing around laughing and talking with the other guys and standing close to one of the Cadillacs was an aging gentleman with grey hair and a small mustache. You didn’t recall seeing him at the house, nor did he seem to fit in with the other guys, which struck you as curious.

You only looked away when you heard a car pulling up behind you, glancing back to see the white Cadillac from yesterday coming to a stop. You immediately felt your heart leap in your chest (for some inexplicable reason) and quickly stood up a bit straighter as you clutched the handle of your suitcase. After a moment, the door to the car opened and first stepped out the Colonel, much to Pierce’s dismay, and then the other door opened and out stepped Elvis, glowing and smiling just as he had the day before.

The first thing you noticed was his attire, as it was incredibly different from what he had on the first time you met him. Unlike before, this outfit was anything but casual, and it much more accurately represented the stylish and over the top nature of Elvis’ more recent wardrobe from the International. He wore an all white, karate gi inspired ensemble, with a bright red ruched shirt underneath and around his neck, much like his stage wear, he wore a printed scarf that hid his exposed chest underneath. A karate style belt hung low around his waist, tied at his hip in a knot, pulling the whole outfit together with the clear inspiration. It was really unlike anything you had seen someone wear before, but you resisted the urge to snap a photo too quickly.

When you looked up at Elvis, you noticed he looked a bit more tired than he had yesterday, dark circles under his eyes and a bit of sweat on his brow. You casted him a concerned look, but he smiled through how unwell he seemed and walked over to where you were standing. “Hey, Minnie Mouse.”

You rolled your eyes. “Hello, Elvis.” You said as you shook his outstretched hand before looking at the Colonel as he hobbled up behind him, one of those comical cigars sticking out of his mouth as he approached Mr Pierce to discuss something with him in private. When you looked back at Elvis, he was still staring at you, sending a shiver running down your back. “Um…I’ve never been to Houston before.” You said in an attempt to break the ice.

“I’ve been all over Texas.” He said as he directed me toward the stairs leading up into the plane where the rest of his group was waiting. “I think you’ll like it.” He reassured me.

You glanced back at Pierce, catching his gaze for a moment before you looked forward and smiled as Elvis began introducing you to the different guys. “This is Minnie Jones. She’s a photographer that’s going to be accompanying us on the trip to Houston.” He explained before gesturing to the men. “You met Charlie already at the house. This is Red and Sonny, they work as my bodyguards. Joe, he’s my road manager. Gee Gee, Jerry, and Cliff, they help keep everything running smoothly. And this is Lamar, he’s my lighting technician and a general pain in my ass.” Elvis said, laughing a bit at his own joke, though Lamar didn’t necessarily seem amused. “And this is my father.” He added as he gestured at the older man you had noticed earlier. Now that they were standing next to each other, they looked very similar.

You awkwardly waved hello, doing your best not to seem completely out of place. “I know all of you are probably used to a bit more privacy, but just pretend I’m not even here. That’s what most politicians do before I snap a real embarrassing photo.” You said jokingly.

Elvis laughed out loud, and soon the guys were laughing too (something you noted as interesting) before he just looked at you and smiled. “She’s funny isn't she? Don’t worry, Minnie Mouse. You’ll fit right in.”

You felt a little more at ease, nodding as you followed Elvis up the steps onto the plane, the guys following behind as they carried yours and the rest of his luggage on board. Elvis moved along to his seat towards the back of the plane, and quickly made sure to keep up, clutching tightly onto the strap of your camera bag.

“Have you flown before, honey?” Elvis suddenly asked as he leaned his hand against the carry-on cubbies overhead, looking down at you curiously.

You nodded a bit and looked away, unable to meet his piercing blue gaze. “A few times, yeah. Though it doesn’t really get any less scary.” You admitted before opening your camera bag. “You don’t mind, do you?” You asked, trying to be courteous regardless of why you were there.

He smirked a bit. “That’s why you’re here, isn’t it?” He teased you before he slipped down into his chair, crossing his leg over the other as he looked out the window.

You watched him for a moment as he leaned on his elbow, chewing on his fingernails as his leg bounced up and down in what seemed to be a nervous tick. You checked to make sure there was film in your camera before raising the lens to snap a photo, smiling a bit at just how human he looked. “Does everyone know that the king of rock ‘n’ roll bites his nails?” You asked as you sat down next to him.

He snorted, turning his gaze back toward you. “There’s a lot of things people don’t know about me.” He said vaguely.

You raised an eyebrow at him before sighing. “I bite my nails, too.” You said after a moment. “Bad habit I’ve had since I was a kid.” You shrugged as you showed him your nails.

He viewed your hand, chuckling a bit before he held out his own hand. “I guess we have at least one thing in common, Minnie Mouse.” He smirked a bit.

You smiled, already feeling less nervous. Something about being so close to him just made the unease inside of you disappear. You raised your camera again, snapping another photo of just his hand before you took the opportunity to look at the rings that decorated his fingers. A beautiful golden ring sat over his pinky finger, engraved with an intricate embossing and set with a glimmering black sapphire gem while another gold ring in the shape of a lion head sat next to it on his other finger. Dangling across his wrist hung an ID bracelet (once more in gold) with his name encrusted in diamonds along the band, somehow looking perfectly sensible on him and not at all gaudy.

You looked away when you suddenly felt the plane start to move, your nerves instantly returning as you grabbed hold of the arm rest instinctively. You chewed on your lower lip as you sunk back into your seat, but then you felt something warm settle over your hand. You looked down, swallowing a bit when you saw Elvis’ hand now resting softly over yours, the cold metal of his rings grazing over the top of your fingers.

“It’s okay, honey. As long as I’m here, nothin’ bad will happen.” He said, and from the look in his eyes, you believed him. You believed he could somehow control the weather and ensure a safe flight all the way to Houston. You ignored the flutter in your chest and the way his touch sent electricity running up your arm, and instead just focused on the warmth of his hand as the plane took off, suddenly feeling a lot less terrified.

The rest of the flight ended up being rather uneventful, and once you were up in the air, Elvis had let go of your hand and went to chat with the other guys about the upcoming shows and the press conference planned for later that day. You were glad for the space, unsure of how to feel about the weird feeling he had left you with, and focused on snapping some photos from your seat. It surprised you to see how relaxed he seemed, even with a camera around. You assumed he was probably used to it by now.

When you arrived in Houston, you could practically see the excitement radiating off of Elvis as he found his way back to his seat. “You alright, honey?” He asked as the pilot started to descend for landing.

You nodded, thankful for his presence next to you as you rested your hands on the arm rests. “What about you? This is your first time performing outside of Vegas isn’t it?”

He sighed, glancing out the window at the city below. “Yeah, it is.” He pursed his lips. “I’m not sure what to expect.” He admitted. “What if nobody shows up? Vegas is a helluva lot different.”

“You’re Elvis Presley. People will show up.” You said as a matter of fact. “Besides, I’m pretty excited to see what you’ve got up your sleeve.” You teased him.

He relaxed a little, smiling as he looked at you. “Thank you, Minnie Mouse.” He said before once again holding your hand as the plane hit a few bumps in the air.

Once the plane finally landed, you were happy to have your feet firmly on the ground and breathing some fresh air that didn’t smell of Elvis’ musky cologne, which you definitely didn’t notice while sitting with him. You followed him down onto the tarmac, and from a distance you could see a large group of fans that had already gathered nearby at the small terminal in an attempt to see Elvis up close and personal.

“I thought we were going somewhere, man.” He said with a grin as he waved at them before his bodyguards led him toward the airport terminal with his father, Vernon, and the Colonel following closely behind.

Waiting inside the airport were several reporters and photographers from different news outlets where a press conference was set up. You stood off to the side, watching as Elvis sat down at a table to answer their questions. He did it with ease, and it quickly dawned on you how natural he was at speaking, despite his stutter and the nervous way that he coughed and joked through some of his responses. It was charming and instantly made him feel a lot more personable.

Once he finished, he snapped a few photos with the Mayor who had come to welcome him to Houston before he was whisked off to a car waiting out front to take him to the hotel. The Colonel and Vernon accompanied the two of you with one of the guys driving while the rest took a separate vehicle. On the ride there, you tried not to pay attention to the way the Colonel seemed to be watching you like a hawk, squirming a little in your seat at the heavy air that hung in the car. During the flight you noticed just how little Elvis seemed to talk to his manager. Whenever you overheard a conversation between them, it was always about business, and even now, Elvis made no attempt to start a conversation.

Needless to say, you were thankful when you were finally able to check-in at the hotel, already exhausted from the day of travel. Elvis made sure everyone got a room a floor down from his penthouse suite to make things easier, but when you took your hotel key and started walking toward the elevator, you felt Elvis’ hand around your wrist.

“Wait up, Minnie Mouse.” He directed his smile down at you as he flicked his wrist at Charlie. “Charlie, take her luggage up to her room.” He said, his gaze fixated on you. “It ain’t too late yet. Why don’t you come up to my room?”

You swallowed, the invitation feeling far too intimate, even if you logically knew it didn’t mean anything. For some reason, though, the look in his eyes sent a shiver down your back, his fingers still softly gripping your wrist as he waited for a response.

“Well, honey?” He asked softly.

Damn it, Minn. Just say no.

You stared at him for a long moment. “Sure.” You heard yourself say, barely even recognizing your own voice.

Jesus Christ, this is a huge mistake.

You weren’t entirely sure what had come over you, or why you decided to say yes, but before you could even process what was happening, you were standing in the middle of Elvis’ lavish suite while he sent one of his guys to grab the two of you dinner from downstairs. You didn’t hear what he ordered, but right now you couldn’t exactly focus on anything, least of all food. You folded your arms across your chest, chewing on your nails as you instantly thought of everything that could possibly go wrong.

Calm down. He’s just having dinner with you.

Logic told you that you were probably right, but you weren’t about to forget who it was that had invited you upstairs for dinner. You remembered what Pierce had said about his reputation, causing you to pace a little as you waited near the sofa. He was probably just being courteous, and knowing Elvis, he couldn’t exactly go downstairs and have dinner in public without causing a commotion. But the lack of anyone else being present in his suite made you worry that this was just his way of trying to make a move on you, his marriage be damned.

You glanced across the room, watching as Charlie left the room to go pick up the food before Elvis shut the door behind him. In that moment, you resolved to keep your chin up and not allow his charm to instantly disarm you.

He’s just a man. A very beautiful and charming man, but just a man.

When he turned your way and walked over, his long strides closed the space between you in seconds, leaving you a bit flustered when he suddenly stopped in front of you. “You can sit down if you want, honey.” He said, gesturing to the sofa.

You glanced at the lush piece of furniture and simply shook your head. “I’m okay. I’m still a bit stiff from the flight.” You said as you folded your arms. “What did you order?” You asked after a moment.

He smiled. “Steak. It seems to be the only good thing they’ve got on the menu.” He said before sinking down onto the sofa and crossing his leg over the other. “You seem nervous, honey.” He noted, looking me up and down with one sweep of those brilliant blue eyes.

You frowned a bit. “Well, a married man invited me up to his suite for dinner, alone. Most women might be a bit nervous.” You pointed out.

His expression shifted a little. “Miss Jones…I-I hope I didn’t make you uncomfortable.” He said, suddenly the southern gentleman you had met a couple days prior. “It’s not exactly easy for me to find privacy outside of my room. I just thought this would give us an opportunity to talk a bit more.” He explained.

You felt yourself blush a little out of embarrassment, realizing you had definitely miscalculated his intentions. “Oh…I’m sorry, Elvis. I just thought…” You trailed off, quickly shaking your head before you decided to sit down next to him on the sofa. “I guess I’m not used to men having manners.” You smirked a bit.

He chuckled, glad to see you relax a little. “You’re a smart girl, Minnie Mouse.”

You smiled a little. “You must be excited.” You said, deciding to change the subject. “Everyone seemed pretty amped up at the press conference.”

He nodded. “This is the make or break moment, honey. If these shows fail…” He whistled as he made a downward motion with his hand. “Fourteen years shot to hell.”

You furrowed your brow a bit. “Why do you think they’d fail?” You hadn’t seen Elvis perform live, but you also knew that he was an absolute powerhouse. After all, this man was able to captivate audiences all over America for more than a decade through the silver screen. And the NBC TV Special was a raving success. You remembered Vivien forcing you to sit down and watch it with her when it aired. Needless to say, you couldn’t picture him failing at anything.

You watched his brow furrow a bit, as if he was contemplating what to say. “What if I just can’t bring it in like I used to?” He finally said, shaking his head as his leg started to bounce up and down in that little nervous tick of his. “There’s a lot of folks out there listenin’ to all kinds of music now. What if I just can’t shake it anymore?” He looked at you, surprising you a little with the vulnerability in his eyes.

You bit your lip for a second before sighing as you reached over and touched his hand. “Elvis, I can’t sit here and tell you what will happen, but I do know that you’re one of the most loved and adored stars in the world. I mean, my best friend just about fainted when I told her I was going to be working with you.” You smiled at him. “Trust me, you can still bring it in. Besides, I know I’m pretty excited to see my first Elvis Presley show.”

He seemed to relax a little, a boyish smile crossing his lips. “I’ll make sure I give you one hell of a performance.” He winked.

You laughed a little before looking over your shoulder when you heard a knock at the door followed by Charlie walking in. “That must be the food.”

“Better be a damn good steak. I’m starvin’.” He grinned before getting up and walking over to see the food that had been brought back.

Once we had our food and gotten the chance to eat, the rest of the night went by like a blur. You found yourself talking to him about the most mundane things, whether it be your frustration of being stuck taking photos of politicians, or the fact that living alone in LA definitely wasn’t all it cracked up to be. He listened to everything you had to say, his focus solely on you the entire time. You couldn’t recall ever having a man give you so much attention, as if you were the only thing in the world that mattered. It left you with this strange feeling that you didn’t really want to acknowledge yet.

Elvis also opened up about his life, giving you the background of how he started out in Tupelo and then moved to Memphis as a teen before eventually beginning his rise to fame at Sun Studios. The way he recounted it felt like he was explaining something that had just happened yesterday, and he really seemed proud over his earlier success during the fifties. It was only when he began talking about his movies that his tone soured. He didn’t completely dismiss them, admitting that even his movies had fans, but he knew that he was capable of doing more. He wanted to do more. But he didn’t linger on the topic, deciding once again to speak about something he was proud of as he brought up his success with the NBC TV Special and his debut in Las Vegas.

“I missed the contact with a live audience.” He explained. “The electricity you get from performing in front of an audience…it’s like nothin’ else.” He said as he sat back against the cushions of the sofa.

You smiled as you curled up on the other end of the sofa, folding your knees up against your chest as you watched him. There was a glimmer of excitement that twinkled in his eyes whenever he talked about his music or performing. You could tell he loved it, and you knew he just wanted to give his fans the best that he had. It was so earnest and so real, something you hadn’t really experienced with any other celebrity that you had met.

“Well, I have a feeling you’ll blow their socks off.” You teased him before reaching over and grabbing your camera off the table. You raised the lens, snapping a photo of that little smile on his lips before he made a funny face for the camera and you snapped a photo of that too. “I think that one is worthy of the front page.” You giggled.

“Nah, honey, second page at best.” He smirked, but the smile slowly fell from his lips and he regarded you with a long look that took you off guard. “Can I ask you somethin’?”

You bit your lip before nodding. “Of course.” You sat up a little straighter.

He looked you up and down, his blue eyes surveying you carefully as he leaned his cheek against his fist, his other hand drumming its fingers against his knee. “You said you weren’t really a fan before, so why did ya take the job? Ain’t a photographer supposed to feel passionate about their subject?” He asked curiously.

His question struck you as odd, but you figured he probably did have a point. And the more you thought about it, you weren’t sure why you had been so drawn toward saying yes. Aside from the obvious reason for progressing your career, you had never really thought much about Elvis Presley prior to Pierce’s proposition. But something about him drew you in. You just knew that it wasn’t an opportunity that you could pass up.

You were silent for a long moment, and you could sense his growing impatience as his fingers started tapping faster against his leg. “I guess it just felt like the right thing to do.” You said quietly, looking down as you fiddled with your hands. “You changed the world, Elvis. I just figured it was time the world saw the real you, whatever that may be.” You shrugged.

Something flashed in his eyes, disappearing far too quickly for you to register what it was, before he laughed, running a hand through his hair as he looked away. “Damn, Minnie Mouse. Are ya sure you ain’t a poet or somethin’?”

You smiled as you relaxed a little. “I did ace English in high school.” You joked before you glanced at the clock and saw what time it was already. “Shit…it’s almost three in the morning!” You said as you quickly stood up. He looked up at you, clearly not seeing the issue in that. You hadn’t even realized how much time had passed, or how inappropriate it was that you were alone with a married man for several hours in the middle of the night.

“You’re not leavin’ are you?” He asked as he stood up, taking a step toward you.

You bit your lip before sighing. “Elvis, it’s late. We’ve both had a long day.” You said in an attempt to reason with him.

He pressed his lips together, but he relented and took a step back. “You're comin’ to rehearsals tomorrow.” It wasn't a question. “Just make sure you're ready, honey.” He said before leaning over and pressing a gentle kiss to your cheek.

You blushed, your heart skipping a beat as the sensation of his soft lips sent a shiver racing down your spine. “Don't worry, I won't miss it for the world.” You said quietly as you looked up at him before quickly stepping past and walking to the door.

“Goodnight, Minnie Mouse.” You heard him call from behind you. You paused at the door, looking back at him for a moment and smiling a bit as you caught the boyish grin that flashed across his face.

“Goodnight, Elvis.”

You weren't entirely sure how you even made it back to your room, feeling so deliriously tired, but also so…happy. It was a strange feeling, and you didn't really want to acknowledge the reason why you were feeling that way. But as you fell asleep in your plush bed, all you could see in your dreams was the warm smile on his lips or his ocean blue eyes that were deep enough to swim in.

Yes, you were certainly delirious.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

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lemonsrosesandlavender · 1 day ago

Note

If you're still taking suggestions for your "Archmage, Slut" fic I'd love to see Rolan dealing with all those eggs from the first prompt- surely he can't hide them forever?

Anon, I hope you are still out there somewhere to enjoy all ~5800 words of this. This is my eggpreg magnum opus, and has driven me completely insane. It's also available to read on AO3 as Best Laid Plans, if you'd rather read it there. Thank you for waiting, and I hope you enjoy!

Tags: eggpreg (obviously), D/s, sub Rolan, dom f!Tav!Reader, pegging, rough sex, angst with a happy ending, egg laying (the eggs are blanks). Brief food kink, in the context of pregnancy cravings.

As Rolan’s situation progresses, the pair of you often sit up after dark, making notes by candlelight on the changes to his body. At first, they are in perfect accord with Rolan’s translation of the original Drow-language book, On the Uses of Tentacle Spells.

Eggs will not grow significantly in size past that of insertion; slight stomach swelling possible but depends on the subject.

Rolan’s slim, angular form had shown them immediately, of course, but you had expected that. Hoped for it, even. He whimpers beautifully whenever you trail your hand over the bump. In public, he hides it carefully beneath his robes, his belt worn higher than usual to let the fabric hang loosely over his stomach— but he puts up only a token complaint about you snatching a teasing feel, and frequently demands to be ravished in an alley afterwards.

Correct, too, was the note that his appetite would disappear at first.

Eggs appear to interfere with normal digestive processes. Subject’s inclination to eat will typically disappear for several days after insertion, before returning to a normal level. After appetite returns, subject is likely to crave fruit, especially—

‘Peaches,’ you purr with satisfaction, handing the basket over to Rolan as he sits scribing at his desk.

‘Thank the Gods,’ he mutters, sinking his teeth into one and scarfing it down with unseemly haste. It’s gone in an instant.

Clearing his throat, he discards the stone and does his best to recover some dignity.

‘Ah… thank you.’ He pauses, eyeing the peaches. ‘I don’t mean to seem ungrateful, but could you leave me to my studies?‘

‘Why, because you don’t want me to see you ripping them apart like a wild animal?’

‘I have been beset by cravings all morning,’ he argues. ‘Forgive me if desperation won out.’

‘So I see,’ you murmur, and lean in to lick the trail of juice off his chin. ‘But I don’t think I will leave you to it. I want to see my pregnant little whore of an Archmage eat the peaches that he begged me for.‘

‘Oh Gods,’ he groans. His tail coils around his calf, so tightly the point snags on his trousers. ‘Zurgan!‘

Subject’s cravings were only satisfied after six peaches, you write; to spare Rolan’s rather warped sense of propriety, you do not record that you made him lick you to orgasm for every single one.

But the longer this “pregnancy” carries on, the more it deviates from the translated notes, and the more you grow concerned. Rolan pretends not to notice, and that frustrates you even more.

‘Maybe we should measure the circumference of the swelling,’ you suggest, as neutrally as possible, whilst the pair of you undress for a bath.

You can’t see the expression on Rolan’s face, as he turns to pick up a towel, but his tone is even more studied than your own.

‘It would be pointless. We have no baseline measurement to work from.’

‘Figaro has your usual measurements.’

His tone shortens. ‘Don’t be ridiculous.’

‘Rolan—’

‘I was under the impression that you liked the effect on my appearance,’ he says, and there is just enough teasing in his words that you can look past the curtness that preceded them. The sight of him naked, slicked in bath oils, helps a lot too. As his egg-filled stomach slip beneath the water’s surface, you are compelled to admit that you do like the way he looks.

‘I thought so,’ Rolan says smugly, and at that you roll your eyes, force all your worries aside, and press your tongue down his throat.

You are determined to be relaxed about it, if Rolan wants you to be. If he doesn’t mind, and doesn’t want to address it further, then you’ll leave it; tease him about it, in fact, and enjoy the considerable neediness that being full of your eggs seems to induce in him. He drinks from your cunt as if it’s ambrosia, and provokes you into spanking him near-daily, his growing bump pressed against your thigh.

All the same… after two months have passed, with no sign of egg-laying, you feel compelled to revisit the notes.

No further noticeable side-effects occurred; in all tested instances of the spell, eggs were lain within a month, after a brief period of contractions.

You shut the book in frustration— and then open it again, because you saw a long auburn hair trapped against that page. Rolan has been reading it too.

It shouldn’t be surprising; he must obviously also see that his swelling stomach is beginning to show beneath his clothes, and be aware that this does not match the spell description that he himself translated.

And yet he was the one trying to get you to touch his stomach in public just yesterday, leaning against your hand on the Sundries counter and throwing you a suggestive glance. The more concerning this gets, the more he seems intent on pretending nothing is wrong.

Damn it. You put the book away, resolving to address this in a day or two if he doesn’t bring it up himself— but you don’t have to wait that long.

When he comes in from the bathroom the next morning, he announces his intention to visit Bonecloak’s.

‘I didn’t notice we needed any alchemical supplies when I checked the cupboard this week,’ you say, harbouring a kernel of suspicion. It grows as you see Rolan try to subtly roll out his back, the movement stilted and capped with a slight wince.

‘True,’ he says. ‘But after some reading, I have come to the conclusion that some more unusual ingredients might be of use for… the situation.’

‘I’m coming with you.’

Rolan stifles a scowl.

‘There is no need to concern yourself— but fine,’ he concedes, since you’re already yanking your trousers on. ‘If you insist.’

The trip across the street to Bonecloak’s is short, but it’s enough time for the tension to simmer down between you. Rolan even smiles a little as you take his hand.

‘So what are you hoping to buy?’

‘Not much. A few strands of Ki-Rin hair and an ounce or two of fungi typically used for pregnancy. It will not take long.’

Derryth’s door is enchanted with a sharp glass-crashing noise, as sharp as she is. To ward off would-be thieves. It makes you smile every time you enter, reminding you of your affection for the rather sour woman; since you saved the Noblestalk (though not her husband) in the Underdark, she seems fond of you too.

‘Good to see you,’ she observes, finding a streak of almost-warmth to greet you with. ‘What’s your business today? There better not be a problem with the last shipment I sent you. Checked it myself.’

‘No, no,’ Rolan says, waving away her concern. ‘I am in search of a few more unusual spell ingredients.’

‘Such as?’

It’s probably not obvious to Derryth, but you recognise the pinch in his brow as embarrassment rather than recall.

‘Ki-Rin hair. And… Saddlewort.’

‘An anti-emetic.’ Derryth raises her eyebrows. ‘Interesting spells you’re cooking up in that tower.’

Rolan coughs slightly, determinedly avoiding her eye— but there’s no refuge in yours, either. Why, exactly, does he need an anti-emetic, if he isn’t having any side effects? Sickness was not listed in any of the notes. You try to contain your frustration, because this is no place to have an argument— but you are not going to let this drop when you get home.

‘And Midwife’s Favour,’ he finishes hurriedly, his voice dropped low.

Derryth starts, irritably, ‘Speak up. Did you say—’ Her eyes drop to his stomach. ‘Ah.’

‘Ah, what?’ Rolan snaps.

‘Rolan,’ you mutter, holding his hand a little tighter. He yanks it out of your grasp.

It’s lucky there’s no-one else in this shop, because if this escalates further, it’s going to turn into a deeply embarrassing scene. What in the Hells? You thought you were past the days of blazing public arguments, having had a few too many before the Absolute.

‘What?’ he demands, digging his own grave.

Derryth’s eyes narrow. ‘Oh, sure. Take me for a fool, why don’t you. I wasn’t trying to judge you, if that’s what you’re so angry about.’

‘I don’t know what you’re talking about,’ he hisses, tail lashing with anger.

‘Stop!’ you snap. ‘You know Derryth isn’t going to tell anyone— ‘

‘There’s nothing to tell!’

‘If you’re done arguing, are you going to pay for this?’ Derryth barks. ‘Then you can go and have this lovers’ quarrel somewhere else. And she’s right. I’m not going to tell anyone. But you’re stupid if you don’t think people are going to start noticing that, especially if you’re going round buying pregnancy remedies.’

‘Enough!’ Rolan hisses. He slams down a pile of gold at the counter, and you notice him faintly shaking, his lips wrought into a grimace. ‘Have them sent to the Tower when they’re made up. I don’t have time to wait.’

You stare after him in bitter disbelief as he exits the shop, the glass ward once more crashing behind him.

Derryth scowls. ‘Wouldn’t waste my breath spreading gossip.’

You have to chase Rolan up the stairs and up through the portal into your bedroom, as milling customers throw you curious glances. If he didn’t want to draw more attention to himself, he’s doing a terrible job. He even slams the door behind him.

‘What the Hells?’ you hiss, as you wrench it open again.

‘Don’t lecture me,’ he shouts. ‘I suppose you would have handled that differently, if you were the one in this state.’

‘I’m not trying to lecture you!’ you retort, more sharply than you mean to. The anger in his voice takes your breath away. ‘We agreed you were going to talk to me if we did this! And you’ve been lying to me!’

‘How do you think you’re going to solve it if I can’t?’ I’ve studied all the books I can find on the subject—’

‘Rolan!’ you bark, frowning through angry tears.

He grimaces suddenly, turning aside, and you realise he’s trying to hold himself back from crying too. His eyes are shining, vermilion-red around the rims.

‘I am sorry,’ he says hoarsely. ‘I should not have said that. You know I hold your spellcasting in high esteem. Better than my own, even.’

You nod. The insult stung, but you know the apology is genuine.

‘I know,’ you say tightly. ‘It’s alright. But— you can’t just refuse to talk about this. Not if you ever want me to hurt you in bed again.’

‘You didn’t hurt me,’ he interrupts, raking his claws over his neck in frustration. ‘I am fine.’

‘Fine. I can’t tie you up, or fuck you with tentacles, or fill you with eggs again if you won’t be honest with me. I thought we were clear about that. I thought— ’

‘You thought we’ve been doing it long enough, and I should know that,’ Rolan says quietly. ‘You are right. I— was ashamed. And afraid I spent the morning after I first threw up berating myself for my stupidity. How could I finally possess everything I ever wanted and throw it away for some cheap pleasure?’

Stiffening, you remind yourself that in this moment, your primary concern is him, no matter how hurt you are. You are not the one whose body is changing in ways you don’t understand, full of eggs that you know far too little about. And it was your hubris too, that got you here.

You take his hand, and pull him close. Rolan’s shoulders do not drop all at once, and neither does his breath steady— not quickly, anyway. He draws in a ragged breath, tail curling around you, and then he claws, clinging so hard to your body that you can feel the fear beneath his skin.

‘I love you,’ you tell him quietly.

Rolan swallows.

‘I love you too,’ he says. ‘Take me. Please.’

You can’t help but flinch. ‘I thought—’

‘Just take me,’ he begs. ‘I want to be close to you. I need you.’

His voice is still rich, even as it scratches with tears. If anything, desperation honeys it, and suddenly, pain and anger transmute to lust. Thrusting your mouth against his, you pull at his robes, unbuckling his belt, seizing him, owning him— and he nods into your kiss. Please. A tear slips between your lips, salty on your tongue.

‘I want you,’ you growl. ‘You’re mine— you’re mine— Gods, get on the bed—’

Rolan kicks his boots off, unbuttoning his robe and dragging off his trousers. He lies face-down, tail not yet raised. Waiting for you to take him.

You buckle your harness tight, slicking the cock you chose with oil. It’s big, and though you want to vent your frustrations by thrusting straight inside him, you steady yourself, lifting his tail and pressing a firm finger to his hole.

‘Just fuck me!’ he rasps.

Fine. You slap his ass, hard— not hard enough for your liking, so you immediately do it again, and then you drag his hips up and push past his resistance in one rough, insistent thrust.

‘Fuck!’ Rolan sounds like he’s crying through the word. ‘More! Please, more.’

The underside of his tail presses hot against your chest. You lean into it, bracing yourself as your hips ram against his ass, slamming to the hilt over and over. Rolan whimpers, clawing at the mattress; you lean down to shove him into the pillow, his tail bending back as far as it will go.

‘Is this enough?’ you gasp. ‘Do you feel like you’re mine?’

‘Yes— please, may I—’

‘Tell me you belong to me. Tell me you want this.’

Your words crack a little. All you truly want, even in the heat of the bedroom, the roles you play to each other— is to be happy with him. To feel like he loves doing this as much as you do. It was easy to believe when he made all those exacting plans for the eggs, and brought it up often enough that you could finally believe it wasn’t all recklessness. That he’d really thought it through.

‘I want this,’ Rolan gasps, urgency clawing through his voice. He chokes up. ‘I have always wanted this— and I want you. I am sorry.’

The word ruins you, shot through with so much regret that it scalds.

You slip your hand beneath him and grasp his cock, working it as roughly as you’re fucking his hole. Sweat pours down your back and his, the ache inside you mounting as your hips tire and every thrust grows more determined— but Rolan is close, and all that matters is to hear him come.

‘You’re mine,’ you tell him hoarsely. ‘You’re mine, and I want this too. I want you crying and begging and fighting with me. I want—‘

‘Ahhh!’

He comes, and the ache bursts, relief crashing in a wave of exhaustion over your body. You hurry to withdraw, peeling your harness off and casting it aside so you can scrape him into your arms, gathering him up and clinging to his exhausted body.

Moments pass in silence, each of you panting against each other’s skin. Your shoulder is wet with his breath, and his is wet with your tears— ones you haven’t allowed yourself to cry yet, because you’ve been working so hard to be calm.

‘Did you come?’ Rolan asks hoarsely. ‘Please, let me—’

‘No,’ you whisper. ‘It’s fine. Soon. Let me just… hold you.’

‘Wretched Gods. I have spent so little time— I was so worried about myself I did not even think about you. Not enough, anyway.’

Your breath slows, steadied by the warmth of his skin against yours, and the familiar patterns of his wingbones. There’s room again to think.

‘Of course you’ve been preoccupied. Gods,’ you murmur gently. ‘I’m not trying to blame you for it. I want you to take care of yourself, more than anything. All I want is to be able to help you with it.’

‘I saw you flinch before,’ he says. ‘And I am sorry. I promise I do not see any of this as cheap.’

His voice rasps over the word. You nod, tangling your fingers into his hair, waiting with churning feelings for him to continue.

‘It is hard for me sometimes. To accept that I want this. And— I know I do. That is why I asked you for it.’

‘I know,’ you murmur.

‘But it’s not fair to you,’ he says. ‘Changing my mind, and lashing out at you every time.’

‘Have you changed your mind?’

‘No,’ he whispers. ‘I did not even mind the delays, the changes— not until I was sick yesterday. I realised then how serious this could be.’

‘The eggs were a mistake. I’m sorry. We knew it was an experimental spell, and clearly something went wrong.’

‘No!’ He shakes his head. ‘Wretched Hells. None of the blame is yours. And even now— if I can just believe the eggs will pass without incident— I…’

‘Go on.’ Your grip tightens around him.

‘Even with the morning sickness… I admit, I still enjoy it.’

Thank the Gods. Relief floods you. So long as he is not in pain— or pain he is not enjoying, at any rate— you can work through anything. You kiss him gently, brushing your tongue past his soft lips to the radiant heat within.

‘If you are afraid of others finding out, you can stay in the Tower until we’ve fixed it.’

‘No,’ Rolan says quietly. ‘I do not want to hide away. And if others find out… it is humiliating, but I will survive. I have everything I could ever want. The judgements of ordinary people are nothing when I have you.’ He frowns. ‘Gods. I would rather Cal and Lia did not know.’

‘They don’t need to know the full details. We can tell them it was a spell mistake. That you are temporarily unwell, but it’ll pass.’

He nods, slipping his fingers between yours. Your grips close tight on each other, two years of love and hard-won trust in your hold. You will get through this, together.

Rolan arches gently, and you feel his stomach press against your body. Slowly, you draw your other arm from around his shoulders and guide your hand down, over his ridges, his nipples, all the way down to the curve of the eggs inside him. A soft groan falls from Rolan’s lips.

‘Does your back hurt?’ you ask.

‘How do you know that?’

‘I saw you trying to stretch it out.’

‘Hmmph.’

‘Turn over,’ you tell him. ‘I’m going to take better care of you from now on.’

‘I’m not an invalid,’ he grumbles. ‘I can take care of myself— unff— ’

He puts no effort into resisting, rolling over at the slightest shove. Straddling his thighs, you slick your hands with the same oil you fucked him with, and begin to rub in long, slow strokes from the top of his hip ridges up to his wingtips.

Rolan sighs comfortably— and then his tail arcs up, brushing against your clit.

‘Oh, I see,’ you murmur. ‘You enjoy being taken care of.‘

He groans a faint objection.

‘Don’t worry. You can thank me for it afterwards, Archmage. With your tongue.’

The rest of his “pregnancy” progresses far more smoothly. He does at last allow you to measure the bump— looks forward to it, even, as you purr in his ear about how pleased you are that your eggs have grown this big. One time, you even catch him touching himself over your notes, a spot of drool falling from his guilty lips to the page.

‘You’re interfering with my research,’ you murmur, low and threatening in his ear. ‘If I catch you touching yourself without me again— ’

He groans as you lean in and whisper in his ear that you’ll publish everything, tell everyone what a slut he is, and sure enough, he is begging and pleading in your grasp, whimpering for mercy and receiving none.

‘Then punish me,’ he gasps, and that you’re more than happy to do.

Derryth’s supplies seem to be working; the morning sickness eases, and so do Rolan’s sore muscles, though you “force” him into accepting massages and hot baths anyway. Three months into his pregnancy, almost to the day, he stiffens suddenly whilst soaking in one of those baths, and gasps—

‘Oh Gods. It’s happening—’

‘Fuck— do you want to get out?’

He nods, his brow pinched tight. ‘Quickly!’

You’ve both referred to the last of the notes many times— in fact, you’ve read it to Rolan when he was supposed to be working, and watched his thighs clench of their own accord.

Sexual intercourse occurring at the first sign of labour (a “slick” being produced by the subject’s entrance) was reported to be even more arousing then usual, and to make the ensuing egg-laying more comfortable.

Jumping from the bath, you fetch him a towel, and hurry to your drawers to find your harness. You sweep up three different sizes of cock, to be on the safe side, and your usual bottle of oil, only to remember with a rush of lust that you won’t need it at all this time. And Gods— the sight of him on all fours on the towel, tail raised to show his hole already a little loosened and pouring with slick almost brings you to your knees, the coursing blood in your veins too hot in this room still full of steam.

His claws skitter against the stone floor as you press in. When his body is already inviting you in like this, it is hard to resist the temptation to bury yourself right up to the harness ring on the first thrust — but Gods know how safe this is— you should be careful—

‘Harder!’ Rolan sobs.

Never mind. You seize his shoulders, nails biting into his skin, and slam your hips into him, your vision glazed with lust.

‘Harder!’ Rolan begs again. ‘Harder— ngggh!’

Panting with effort, you yank his hair and set about shutting him up with the harshest, most punishing thrusts your practised muscles can pound him with. Every slap of your wet skin against his is met with a whimper— moans broken as his body shakes, driven by your cock and yanked back by your grip. His tail trembles over your shoulder.

He can’t even beg you to come, but you can tell from the sounds he’s making that he’s trying to, claws curling and scratching against the floor and choked sobs running from his mouth.

You shove your hand up between his legs and grease it with the slick running down his taint.

‘Come for me,’ you groan, wrapping your hand around his cock and fucking him into your grip. It twitches— he moans—

And then he comes, shouting, collapsing down on his forearms to ride out the convulsions.

The sight is unbearably hot. You slam your hand over your mouth, holding yourself together, tortured by how close his own orgasm brings you to the edge when he needs you to keep your senses.

‘Turn over,’ you tell him urgently, pulling out. ‘Lie back. Does it feel like there’s time for me to stretch you more?’

Rolan’s shoulder hits the floor as he hurries to get in position, but he barely seems to notice.

‘I think so,’ he whispers. ‘Gods. Wretched Gods— that felt—’

‘Good?’

He swallows, nodding. You finish changing your cock for a larger one— line it up at his gaping entrance—

‘Breathe,’ you murmur, putting a gentle hand on his stomach. The beauty of the bump beneath your fingers makes you catch your breath. You wish you could have another few moments, just to appreciate Rolan like this– but there’s no time to be sentimental about it now. Easing Rolan’s hips up, you roll your own, feeling his hole gently give beneath your pressure.

‘Oh,’ he whispers. He looks dazed already, his back arching against the towel. ‘Oh Gods— ‘

‘Too much?’

He shakes his head weakly. ‘No.’

You slip in and out slowly, getting him used to the feeling.

‘I’m going to put the biggest one on now,’ you tell him, kissing him on the lips. He nods again, and shudders deeply as you push it in. It is truly huge, one you’ve never been able to fully train him to take before— but now, with his body malleable and dripping with this magic, it is in, and you slide it impossibly deep too.

‘Fuck me,’ Rolan whimpers, even though the trail of his come from last time still sits thick and wet on his stretched stomach. ‘Fuck me, please— ah!’

The moment you draw back, his thigh jerks and his eyes widen. He jolts upright, still impaled on your cock.

‘They’re coming!’ he gasps urgently. ‘…Zurgan!’

You withdraw as quickly as you can, trying not to discomfort him, and shed your harness, rushing to help him into the bath.

‘Oh Gods,’ he moans. ‘Gods!’

‘Sit down,’ you urge him. The bath’s still warm, thankfully, though you cast a round of Prestidigitation to make it even more so.

‘Are you alright?’

Rolan is looking at you wide-eyed, gripping the rim of the bathtub so hard his knuckles pale pink.

‘Get in,’ he chokes. ‘Please.’

No time to ask if he is sure, or to think about the logistics of this. You climb over the side, splashing into the heat, and kneel astride his tail.

‘Is the angle comfortable?’ You wrap your arms around him, tilting his hips up as if you were going to fuck him.

‘Kiss me,’ Rolan begs.

When you do, his fingers slip to your clit, trying desperately to stroke you even though his chest is heaving and his attempt at rhythm quickly stutters to a halt.

‘Rolan, no—’

‘Please,’ he whispers. ‘I want you to come. I want you to— nnnh— want this as much as I do. Tell me you find this… attractive. Tell me it is worth it.’

‘Yes,’ you gasp. ‘Fuck, Rolan— I’ve never wanted you more. Fuck— stop doing it yourself and just hold onto me.'

His hand splashes back beneath the water. Sweat pours down his temples, his stomach muscles spasming as if his whole body is trying to break apart.

‘Hold on for me,’ you groan, leaning in to kiss him deep, trying to make room for the egg to come out between you. ‘Hold on— fuck!’

Tears sting in your eyes as you touch your clit, your own urgent need left uncared for, and angry now that you’ve returned for release. Rolan’s claws dig into your ribs, his rhythmic panting half the speed of your own rough fingering. Your own breath swells in volume with his as he jerks and sobs and shouts in pain, a crescendo that brings you shouting to the edge yourself, and over it.

‘Fuck!’ you sob, convulsing, your body livid with pleasure. ‘Fuck, oh Gods!’

Rolan shouts too, and suddenly you feel something nudging against the back of your hand. Fuck, the egg— you crash back into your senses, catching your breath with sudden, cold fear.

‘Are you alright?’ you ask sharply, tilting his face up until his closed eyes open.

Rolan nods. Tears are trickling down his cheeks.

‘Yes,’ he gasps, and lunges for your lips to kiss you. ‘Yes.’

‘Alright. Let me get this egg out of the way,’ you tell him gently, tugging against his clinging arms.

Your fingers almost sink into it, as you reach below the water. Translucent black, clear of any substance except the strange jelly it’s made of— thank the Gods, the spell did not go wrong on that front— and huge. Rolan groans softly, looking at it.

‘Fuck,’ you whisper hoarsely, spellbound. There’s no time for this. You reach to put it aside—

‘Wait!’ Rolan gasps. ‘Gently. I want to— ’

Study it, you know, and you give him a brief kiss to tell him so, before leaning out of the bath and resting it on a towel.

Rolan’s legs twitch again.

‘The second one?’

‘Yes.’ His eyelids are screwed shut, expression caught with an agonised grimace. ‘Wretched— Gods.’

‘You’re doing well,’ you tell him. ‘Breathe with me.’

You know he must be desperate, because he doesn’t protest the compliment in the slightest. Hand on his chest, you feel his heart pound, effort rising within him.

One heavy breath; two; three—

Another egg appears, just the base, seeming to stick even within his impossibly stretched, slicked hole for a second. Rolan cries out, grimaces, spasms— and it is out, drifting to bump against your thighs.

‘Fuck,’ he whimpers. ‘Wretched Gods— please— ’

‘One more,’ you tell him. His cheek is feverishly hot to the touch. ‘Then you’re done.’

He gasps as you withdraw your hand, catching your wrist in a painfully tight grip.

‘I love you,’ he chokes.

‘I love you too.’ You breathe deeply. ‘I love you too. Push—’

His fingers tighten.

‘Yes,’ you tell him. ‘Yes— ’

‘Oh Gods— ahhhhh— ’

Rolan throws his head back until his horns clatter against the tub, and with one last, violent exertion his stomach ripples and his legs jolt. The final egg is laid.

You wish you had a strength potion on hand, to pluck him from where he lies trembling in the bath and carry him safely in your arms to bed. As it is, you can only offer a shoulder. Rolan clutches at you for support as you stumble across your bedroom, a trail of water and slick marking your path.

‘Wait here,’ you tell him. ‘I’ll get a towel.’

When you finally get in bed, dried-off and exhausted, Rolan is silent for some time. His chest rises and falls against you, and though you want to know more than anything if he’s alright, the soft tenor of his breath tells you he might be asleep, so you leave him be.

That wasn’t supposed to mean falling asleep yourself— and yet, you awake a little while later, unsticking your exhausted eyelids.

Rolan is looking at you, his eyes glimmering with feeling. Not just any feeling; warmth.

‘You’re alright?’ you ask.

‘Yes.’

‘Thank the Gods. I’ll get you some water— ’

‘It can wait,’ he says softly. ‘Stay. Please.’

‘I went to Bonecloak’s today,’ Rolan tells you, some days after he has recovered enough to get out of bed.

‘Oh?’ you ask, raising an eyebrow and putting down your book.

‘I realised I owed Derryth an apology,’ he murmurs, warm with self-aware mirth. ‘Perhaps one day I will manage not to alienate your friends and allies over my own internal strain.’

You meet his eyes with some amusement. ‘Maybe. The circumstances were fairly understandable, though. Did she find it in herself to forgive you?’

‘She said hmm,’ Rolan notes drily. ‘But as I was headed out, she asked me if I’d do her a favour and re-enchant that wretched door ward of hers to sound a little nicer. Apparently it’s upsetting her cat.’

If he’s back on favour terms with her, then all is well. Derryth certainly kept her word; no suspect articles about the Archmage’s bump appeared in the Baldur’s Mouth Gazette. In fact, in a possibly ruinous blow to Rolan’s ego, it seems that two years after the fall of the Elder Brain no-one pays as much attention to the city’s Hero and Archmage as they used to. Rolan’s eggs went largely unnoticed— as far as you’re aware, anyway.

‘Well,’ you murmur. ‘Now everything is back to normal, I’ll have to remind you that even without a stomach full of eggs, you still belong to me. Let me see.’

You were thinking of shoving your hand down his trousers and working him into a groaning mess— but you’re caught off guard before you can so much as lunge for a button.

‘Ah,’ Rolan says. ‘Speaking of. I have been revisiting the notes, trying to locate the cause of the unexpected… deviations. On closer inspection, the original spell modification was rife with ambiguity. Mediocre spellwork at best. Fortunately, I have been able to reword the spell in such a way that should preserve its essence whilst— ’

‘Rolan.’

You fix him with a sharp glare. The hand that was gesturing animatedly slips quietly down to his side, but his eyes still glow with focus.

‘I know,’ he says seriously, leaning forward to take your hand. ‘I hurt you last time, and things could have gone far worse than they did. Though… I think that would be unlikely, given the quality of your spellcasting. You summon with such authority that even the most rottenly-conceived spell would be forced into order.’

For a moment, you sit considering his words in silence. Rolan laces his fingers into yours.

‘Believe me,’ he says quietly. ‘I would not ask you this without being certain. The experience was… hard to describe. I have always felt myself tied to you, but during the last months I felt those bonds more deeply than I thought possible.’

‘If we’re doing this again, everything I said about being honest with me— I’m not going to do it unless you let me help you. Take care of you.’

‘Of course,’ Rolan says. ‘I love you. I felt every one of my mistakes, painfully. I tried to make up for it in the last few weeks, but… I understand if it was not enough.’

‘Fuck,’ you curse.

‘What?’

Grasping his shirt, you kiss him firmly, your tongue pressing onto his. Fucking Hells. You can’t resist him, damned to do stupid, reckless things together for the rest of your lives, because neither of you can keep your heads where the other is concerned.

There are worse ways to be.

You growl into the kiss, cunt soaking at the thought of ruining him again. Rolan quivers, looking up at you with bated breath for your verdict as you pull away.

‘Fine. But we’re not going to do it until I’m happy with the spell changes. And you are going to beg me for it.’

Rolan smiles. He escapes your grip and comes up kneeling between your legs, rubbing his face into your clothed cunt.

‘Should I start now?’

After six months, egg insertion attempted again on the same subject, with spell modified to limit egg incubation to two months, and to reduce pregnancy-like side effects (See appendix for spell modifications). Subject complained the eggs did not grow large enough this time; the recorder notes that the spell seems to turn a perfectly respectable Archmage into a wanton whore, who at the time of writing is already begging to be filled again.

#rolan #bg3 rolan #rolan bg3 #sub!rolan #cabbage writes #cabbage answers #I am so proud this is done #and now I will collapse in a heap #rolan x reader #f!reader

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starglitterz · 3 days ago

Text

CAT & MOUSE.

you and kaeya have been enemies for years. you're a criminal, and he's a knight – it makes sense for you to despise each other. but when he's got you locked up, you wonder if what you feel for him is really hatred at all.

✧ feat : kaeya x gn!reader

✧ warning(s) : suggestive, reader is caught by kaeya, light yandere if you squint

✧ a/n : no comment. this was in the depths of my google docs & i wanted to bring it over here! hope you enjoy <3

please reblog w tags + comment ! it helps a lot ^_^

you’re not normally the type to make stupid mistakes like this. especially not the kind that would lead to you being captured and held in a dungeon in the middle of nowhere. the worst part? it appears that your captor is your greatest enemy – the cavalry captain of the knights of favonius, kaeya alberich.

“well, well, look what the cat dragged in,” you hear his familiar voice sneer as he walks down the stairs, footsteps echoing in the small room. you’ve seen him a countless number of times, usually only when you’re escaping by the skin of your teeth as you evade arrest yet again, but the sight of him is enough to knock the air out of your lungs. his dark hair spills over his shoulder in a messy ponytail, and his blue eye gleams in the low light of the dungeon, striking features illuminated solely by a flickering lamp. for someone who’s meant to be your nemesis, you can’t help but think that he’s shockingly attractive.

“get over yourself, alberich,” you roll your eyes, “it was a rookie mistake.” “and one that could cost you your life,” he continues smoothly, voice as suave as ever even as he discusses your potential death. the air between the two of you crackles with tension, all those years of fighting culminating in this meeting where the weight of your shared history of you dodging his attempts at capturing you is almost suffocating.

“yeah right,” you scoff, “if you wanted to kill me, you would have done it by now. or are you too scared?” a sardonic chuckle slips past your lips, “hah, that’s rich. mondstadt’s famed cavalry captain is too cowardly to kill the prisoner he’s been seeking for years-” “i would watch my words if i were you,” kaeya cuts in, an unmistakably icy undertone to his words, “it’s not too late to change my mind.”

“change your mind? you mean you’re not going to kill me?” your brain is working overtime to try and figure out why he wouldn’t want to get rid of you, a potential threat to mondstadt’s safety. kaeya doesn’t deign to answer and instead strolls closer, a smug smirk curving his lips as he takes in the sight of you with your wrists tied behind your back. “you look almost… pretty like this, you know?” you groan, squeezing your eyes shut to hide the way your heartbeat accelerates, “i didn’t come here to hear about your kinks.” “in all fairness, you didn’t choose to come here at all,” amusement tinges his tone, and you know he’s poking fun at you now, doing his best to rile you up so you’ll lose your temper – you hate the fact that it’s actually working.

“shut up,” you scowl and he winces exaggeratedly, the action only serving to make you even more annoyed. then kaeya reaches a hand to cup your face, tilting his head almost innocently though the mischievous glimmer in his gaze gives his act away. his hands are cold against your skin, so you try to squirm away but he easily grips your chin – firm enough to make you face him, yet gentle enough that it doesn’t hurt.

“leave me alone,” you snarl, “don’t you dare-” “tsk.” he clicks his tongue, “i might have to get a gag for you if you keep talking so much.” “you wouldn’t.” your eyes meet his, but there’s a hint of uncertainty in yours. he nods with false reluctance, an easy smile gracing his features, “of course not. i enjoy our banter far too much.”

with one finger, he tilts your chin up, a smirk playing about his idiotically kissable lips, “but be careful – my patience will only stretch so far.” “i’m not scared of you.” the words are filled with venom as you snap at him, but he merely laughs, “that’s what i love about you.” “love?” you gasp, unable to hide your surprise, and kaeya chuckles, “you wish. perhaps i’m just entertained by how much you pretend to hate me.” “i do hate you,” you do your best to seem intimidating, but it’s undermined by how your voice shakes as if you yourself don’t believe your words. you hate kaeya… right? “there’s a thin line between love and hate,” kaeya grins, “i would know.”

you despise the way he speaks in riddles, the way he always tries to arrest you, the compliments that fall from his lips like jewels, you despise everything about him – but you don’t. not really. that’s just a lie you’ve been telling yourself because you refuse to admit that amidst all those years of intense combat, both verbal and physical, you’ve allowed yourself to fall for him. kaeya lets out a low whistle, “i think you agree with me, don’t you?” you’re silent for a moment, unwilling to confess to him how right he is. then you say scornfully, “that’s just your ego talking,” but your heart is thumping against your ribcage so loudly you’re worried he’s going to hear it.

“is that so?” kaeya’s voice drops to a whisper, and his finger skims across your lips almost teasingly, with an undertone of affection he certainly shouldn't be harboring for a criminal. yet the way you can't stop how your pupils dilate as you gaze up at him makes a knowing smirk curve his lips – you definitely like this as much as he does. he moves his hand away and you hate how you already miss his touch, and the satisfied manner with which he smiles at you makes you wonder if he can read your mind.

“i must admit, i don’t think i hate you,” kaeya murmurs, the words hanging heavy in the air. “what?” it comes out rougher than you expected, probably because of the anticipation bubbling in your chest as you try to ponder the meaning behind his words. “the things i’d like to do with you…” he dips his head to whisper in your ear, breath warm against your skin, “i don’t think they’re things that one would do with someone they hate.” a soft gasp escapes your lips before you can stop it, and kaeya pulls back with a smug grin, “how cute.” you hiss at that, exhaling through gritted teeth because you can’t deny the butterflies forming in your stomach from his suggestive words, and you don’t think you can formulate a coherent sentence without your voice trembling.

“you can stay here until the attention regarding your case dies down,” kaeya stands up, “otherwise you’ll be thrown into jail the second you step out.” “but you’re a knight! you should be arresting me!” you blurt out, mind racing through a mess of emotions from how he’s left you with a desperate want blossoming in your core.

“i should be… but i’m not one to play by the rules,” kaeya throws you a confident smirk over his shoulder, and he lifts an eyebrow, “don’t tell me you’d rather rot in a jail cell?” heat rises to your face, and you look away from his playful gaze, “no…” “that’s what i thought,” he snickers. but just as he’s about to turn to leave, you ask, “what do you get out of this?” kaeya turns around to face you one last time, a teasing smile on his lips, “i get to keep you to myself a little longer.” and with that as his parting words, he leaves you in a daze, wondering what on earth you’re going to do about your feelings for him.

starglitterz 2025. do not repost, edit, modify, or feed to ai.

#genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #✏️ — quill writes !#kaeya x reader #kaeya alberich x reader #kaeya alberich #astronetwrk

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violenteconomics · 2 months ago

Note

I am in dire need of more of that AU that The First years get The upperclassmen toxic traits,i realy want more of It,like;

A way to include octavinelle and scarabia,maybe like,3 First years(Ace,deuce,Jack) get some of azul's toxic traits,other Three(epel,ortho and sebek) get Jamil toxic traits and yuu get both

Second thing

More reactings please,i NEED The staff,ALL The dorms and even the relatives seeing The First years developing those toxic traits,the overblots+Trey and cater for deuce getting their toxic traits right back at their face i beg you🙏🙏

anything 4 u, baby.

(but for real, though, this is an AMAZING idea, love you so much for tilling the ground for my brainwormies, mwah mwah 😘)

(also, this might get REALLY long, so hang tight!)

it was just a seed at first — a tiny idea that stuck around despite the first-years not even realizing it was there. but as the poison from their actual housewardens starts to develop into something truly deadly, so does that seed. it shows up later... but it makes itself known nevertheless.

ace, deuce, and jack have all worked for azul at the mostro lounge at one point, and though it was a very brief moment in time, it was just long enough to worm its way into their heads.

it starts with ace trappola, who's already pretty slippery with his words. but working at the mostro lounge, taking subconscious note of all the underhanded deals azul is making, he starts to pick up new... skills, let's say.

it starts small, with ace starting to give out certain favors to his fellow freshmen to earn some money. if you give him ten thaumarks, he'll do one of your everyday chores for you — dusting your room, cleaning your bathroom, making dinner, what have you. if you give him fifteen thaumarks, he'll do your homework if you don't feel like doing it, or take class notes for you if you don't feel like showing up. if you give him forty, he'll help you with something less-than-moral and definitely against the rules (he did it once back at the atlantica memorial museum — he can do it again).

there's an obvious power imbalance in all of these scenarios, but ace effortlessly words in a way that makes it seem like it's a win-win situation, when in reality, it's more like a zero-sum game.

it gets to the point where ace builds a black-market sort of reputation, and all of the freshmen know that if you need something done, ace is the person to go to.

...but then, something shifts.

at some point, ace starts a black-mailing campaign for the people who paid for the forty-thaumark favor. if you don't want your secret — one that might get you expelled, suspended, or worse — getting out, then you can pay for ace's silence with a favor or more money.

the worst part is: there's no way out. if you try attacking ace, it'll seem like you assaulted him for no reason, since if you try to explain he was blackmailing you, you'll have to tell them what he was blackmailing you with, which you obviously can't do — or else what was even the point? the same rule applies if you try tattling on him to one of the teachers or the housewardens or anybody else. and ace is a better liar than most people will ever be in their lifetime, so it's a losing battle even if you do manage to get someone to take your side.

so if you want to cross the bridge, my sweet, you've got to pay the toll.

(it's not even about the money anymore, really. riddle's thirst for control and azul's desire for recognition have clashed inside of ace in the most violent way, and now, it's all about the power it gives him over other people. and after how powerless he's felt this entire school year, being thrown left and right by overblot after overblot with no say at all, this is a power trip he never wants to come back down from.)

but ace realizes he's making quite a few enemies with his little money-making strategy, and he needs someone to help him just in case someone does come up with a plan to wipe him out. i mean, just look at azul — even with all of the loopholes and leverages in the world, even he was taken down eventually without outside help. if he wants this to last as long as possible, he needs... incentive for people to listen to him.

his own jade and floyd.

his own red-and-black collar.

using his riddle rosehearts-born dominance, and taking advantage of deuce's trey-and-cater-born passiveness, ace convinces deuce spade — one of the strongest people he knows — to help him in his economic ventures.

and deuce, seeing this as a way for ace to vent some frustration and unwilling to be on the other end of ace's ire, hesitantly agrees.

he doesn't piece together that ace is acting suspiciously like azul, but he still recognizes his own role in this whole scheme. ace is running a business, right? and deuce has only ever worked in one business before. he remembers what jade and floyd were like back when he worked under them, and so he uses that experience to inform his new position.

deuce becomes known as ace's right-hand man. he'll hunt you down if you don't pay, and he's not afraid to use force to "compel" you to. there have been stories about cat beastmen getting thrown up into trees and being left there for hours. about students getting forks "accidentally" thrown at them in the cafeteria with such precision, it doesn't really feel like an accident. about a student with a spade on his face who can throw back any attack sent his way with just as much force.

and there's nothing you can do about it, because he's in service to someone who has made himself pretty powerful. ace's silver-tongue gets deuce out of any and all trouble he inevitably finds himself in — and is ace is so brutally honest, why wouldn't people believe him? so even if you try to do something to deuce, ace has his back no matter what — and he'll win almost every time.

you mess with deuce, you mess with ace, which is already bad enough. but if you fuck around with ace, you better be prepared to find out with deuce.

they're a pair — that's always been true. but never before has that fact been so threatening.

jack howl comes next. we all know how much jack despises octavinelle's business model. but, begrudgingly, he will admit there are a lot of things he can learn from octavinelle. and more knowledge is never bad. as long as he doesn't actually use it, it should be fine.

(jack is more dangerous than ace and deuce, in a way — his toxicity is insidious in a way it just couldn't ever be with them.)

with excellent hearing, eyesight, and memory, he silently keeps note of every bribe he hears being taken. every lie he knows is being told. every mistake that gets swept under the rug. it's not long before he starts actively looking for it. it's not long before jack's uncovered dirt on almost every freshmen in school. it reminds him a bit of his time working at the mostro lounge. but instead of memorizing orders from customers, he's memorizing all their dirty secrets.

it's to protect himself, jack reasons. after all, it was only his input that put a stop to leona and ruggie's plans back during the spelldrive exhibition. he's just... preparing for another disastrous event, that's all. it's just precaution. insurance.

if it's not, then he'll have to accept that leona's overblot bothered him more than he thought. that he was weak enough to let it.

(and jack can't face that yet.)

and if, once in a while, ace comes to him looking for a little bit of information, then well, that's just lending a friend some advice. nothing wrong with that.

epel, ortho, and sebek don't have any direct ties to jamil, but they are certainly... impressionable, aren't they?

sebek zigvolt is a bit dense, certainly, but even he can see how well jamil takes care of his master. and with a master that's as ditzy and forgetful and all-over-the-place as kalim, that can't be easy. even if they are merely humans, and their experiences can't even begin to compare when it comes to serving a fae prince, sebek reckons that he can learn a thing or two by observing them. so that's exactly what he does.

one day, when kalim spills food on the floor in a hilariously ridiculous move, sebek notices something few others ever would. jamil gives the tiniest twitch of annoyance — the same way silver, in all his stoicism, often does when sebek gets too loud — but then he's back to being perfectly dutiful and polite and says "i'll go get a napkin."

it's... admirable, honestly. sebek doesn't put it into practice right away, but it stays in his mind long after he first sees it.

and then, after malleus's overblot, sebek's emotions feel like they're on fire. after being stuck in a world where it took just the tiniest crack to shatter a perfect illusion, he's wary of nearly everything that disrupts his day. now every single slight against him, no matter how unintentional it may be, feels like a personal attack on his very life. but sebek can't show these ugly emotions so outwardly — that would be dishonorable behavior that could damage malleus's reputation. instead, he resorts to subtle methods that can't be easily traced back to him like putting in frogs in schoolbags and setting brooms on fire or replacing shampoo bottles with tar.

but his repressed feelings of anger start to build to the point where he's now feeling unprecedented resentment towards... well, almost everybody.

when sebek has very first negative thought about malleus in history class — "reckless bastard" — he instantly hates himself for it and throws up then and there because how dare he.

he tries to shut them out, but the more he does, the more these intrusive thoughts start to bombard him with their uncharacteristic cynicism.

he looks at lilia from across the breakfast table, and his first thought is: heartless liar.

he spots leona lying in the botanical garden and he thinks: brainless cretin.

he even sees jamil, walking through the halls, and his mind screams: manipulative bitch.

but sebek shoves it all down because he's in no position to say that. it gets to the point where he's walking around as a silent, unfeeling husk, because to be anything else would be like inviting his inner demons to visit him on the outside. he pushes his emotions down as far as they'll go, and that's just going to have to be enough to get him through the day.

ortho shroud begins to follow a similar principle. his idia-inspired pessimism has led ortho to see others as less like people and more like characters. it's easier to think of every school day as a dungeon in an rpg. it's easier to convince himself that the other students are taunting him because they're programmed to be that way than face the reality that they just don't like him.

but the problem with seeing life as a video game is that you start seeing others as just ways to complete your objectives. like npcs or maps.

and when it comes to using people, jamil viper is king. or, for ortho's purposes, the ultimate survival guide.

ortho shapes himself into a model night raven college student — kind, charming, and sweet for the teachers, but just mischievous and rude enough to still fit in with the students.

he goes to housewarden meetings with idia to "gain leadership experience", taking notes and hearing out of every single little idea he can get his hands on (these are the people who have not just survived, but thrived. they must be doing something right). one time, riddle even pats his head and praises him for his proactiveness.

his classmates adore him for always been willing to help and being so calm about even the worst outcomes.

ortho makes himself as available as possible to the rest of ignihyde, brushing off homework or studying to help them with whatever they need — fixing game consoles, wiring in controllers, checking the internet connection, et cetera.

eventually, everyone believes in him almost as fiercely as scarabia believed in jamil, once upon a time.

ortho doesn't like telling all of these lies, but it's necessary to protect himself. it's like grinding to earn coins until you have enough money to buy that special armor in the shopkeeper's store.

...or maybe it's more like those cheesy dress-up flash games ortho used to play all the time — fleshing out the perfect outfit and hairstyle and makeup that'll earn you the most points.

if people feel like they need him, he'll be able to breeze through school without any more problems. he's put the whole system on easy mode! it feels a bit like cheating, almost.

it is like a game, isn't it? it's fun.

(at some point, ortho forgets how to stop.)

as for epel... well, he knows that his sudden snappish behavior towards the other pomefiore students won't go unnoticed for too long. but this is one of his only ways of venting, so he needs it to go under the radar long enough for him to... to squeeze out all of this sudden venom that's built up in him.

epel's not oblivious. he knows how sebek and ortho have changed over the weeks, and he knows why. but epel can't pull off "repressed" like sebek, and neither can he suddenly turn into the best person ever like ortho. but they do have the right idea about taking inspiration from jamil, so epel can fall back on what there is left: gaslighting.

every time kalim blacked out, jamil blamed it on him being sick. every time someone thought kalim was being awfully uncharacteristic, jamil called it a "mood swing". every time someone asked jamil about why kalim was acting so weird, jamil claimed ignorance.

at least, that's what yuu tells epel.

and it's perfect.

so now, every time someone confronts epel about his overly critical behavior, he lies and says he's doing it for their own good. you need pressure to make a diamond, after all. and besides — vil won't settle for anything less than absolutely perfect.

("i'm just trying to catch your mistakes before he does. and i think you and i can both agree that i'm a lot nicer than he is about it.")

every time vil confronts epel about all of the complaints he's been hearing from the other students about how epel's been tearing down their ideas for outfits and hairstyles with no mercy, and disregarding all of their achievements as "not good enough" to be proud over, epel dons a confused face.

("vil, between studying for tests and the crazy physical regiment you have me do, i barely have time for myself. you honestly think i have the energy to criticize other people?")

epel even starts turning people against each other so they won't focus on him. epel subtly threatens to take away the upperclassmen's position in the hierarchy, which sets up the other underclassmen as a threat, and epel grouses to the underclassmen that the upperclassmen look down on them for not living up to pomefiore standards, under the guise of regular teenage bitching.

but all of this, combined with their self-entitlement, leads to a mini-war in pomefiore. but since this is, well, pomefiore, where being perfect and poised is the standard, the others make sure never make it obvious in front of vil or rook.

epel plays everybody like a fiddle, and ensures that none of it can be traced back to him. it's a good way to get out his frustration. and hey — it seems like everybody's upped their game along the way. vil seems pretty happy that everybody's improving in their efforts so greatly, practically overnight!

epel wakes up with a feeling of accomplishment everyday. for once, it seems he did something right.

now if only rook could stop looking so somber...

then we come to yuu, whose inner darkness has been left to fester all year. if people think they can treat them like a ragdoll, it's only fair they do the same.

there's a lot yuu doesn't have, but one thing they're really lacking is a bit of respect. that's what it means to be magicless in an arcane academy. you're at the bottom of the food chain.

and look at what a bit of self-interest can do for you! yuu studies in the library until late into the night, burning the metaphorical candle at both ends, learning everything they can about magic until they're more well-versed in it than most students in the school. yuu starts making potions that aren't nearly as good as azul's, but they're cheap and work well enough. they start making study guides for others with their new-found knowledge, even if they do bristle with the fact that a damned study guide is what caught them in azul's tentacles in the first place. they start learning anything and everything, clinging to whatever scraps of knowledge they can write down.

with this, they successfully make their case for why they should join ace and deuce's business. eventually, they're just as feared as they are among the other first-years.

but that's not enough for yuu. the power of fear is nice, but the power of controlling other people would be much more cathartic.

so that's what they do. while ace is more focused on monetary gain, yuu uses their mountains of blackmail to convince others to do whatever they want.

if crowley throws another ridiculous task at them, yuu simply hoists it off to somebody else to do. if ramshackle dorm needs a few repairs, it's only a matter of contacting a few people before a whole construction crew paid off by somebody else comes knocking at their door. and they'll do it, if they don't want to get kicked out of the school or have their reputation ruined.

but somehow, even with all of this, yuu sets themself up as the nicest out of their little trio. they're willing to let payments slide from time to time. they listen to their clients' problems. they take constructive criticism and always seem to improve in their potions and study guides based on feedback. and if you do do yuu a favor, they'll give you certain favors right back.

so even when yuu is a covetous, greedy, all-consuming shark, the students still think they're so very, very nice. because compared to ace and deuce, what else is there to think?

but this can only go on for so long. and yuu knows that.

one day, they get called to the headmage's office. yuu is already going through their contact list — a list that's quadrupled ever since they joined forces with ace and deuce — to see who'd be willing to do them a teensy little favor for them, but when they step through the door, they pause.

inside the office are all the housewardens, their vices, the teachers, and everybody else yuu has grown to know over the past year.

yuu narrows their eyes as riddle steps forward.

"yuu," riddle starts sternly, "from one housewarden to another, i believe we need to talk."

(i will address everyone's reactions in a reblog, because this is honestly getting really, really long, lol. but don't worry, the reactions are coming! 🥺)

(but i should mention that there is already a good reblog of the original post by @thenumberhuntress which addresses the upperclassmen's reactions that you can find here. go read it. it's peak.)

(once again, thank you for the great ask! this was fun to make!)

#anything 4 u baby #twisted wonderland #twst #twst first years #sebek zigvolt #jack howl #ace trappola #deuce spade #ortho shroud #epel felmier #twst yuu #the following are all just #(mentioned)#azul ashengrotto #jamil viper #a few others that appear so briefly it's not worth it to give them tags #generational trauma #i went a little off the rails with this one but i hope you enjoy it nevertheless lol #trying a new format

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