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astracora · 2 days ago

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EVER's Tool - Chapter 4

Characters: Poly!LADs x gn!mc, Caleb x gn!mc (Zayne POV/MC POV/Caleb POV)

Warnings: Hurt/No Comfort, Angst, Talk of EVER Experiments and Torture, Violence, Gore, Suicide Ideation, Spoilers for all current story as of Caleb release.

Word Count: 10112

Written: 14th February 2025

Notes: Established-relationship with gn!MC with all LADs, with my personal pov of the game and lil headcanons littered in. Unnamed MC, but using my personal MC's basic appearance and adjusted backstory. I take some liberties with what the game offers me. My notes today are that I fought for my life with this one (dramatic), because I cannot multitask for shit, and I am grinding tkrb instead of writing. Oopsies. Happy Valentines Day all, I hope you have/had a good day. ❤️ Take some nasty angst as a present. I'm going to sleep (aka grind more tkrb and fall asleep until my phone hits me in the face when I drop it).

Now Playing: The Dark of You, By Breaking Benjamin

Masterlist AO3

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Zayne is a doctor, he understands the concept of amnesia. He has experience with dementia patients, those who have been in accidents. He knows that some never get their memories back, he knows that pushing and rushing can create emotional strain, stress and anxiety. That asking questions the patient has no answers for, can hurt them.

He knows, objectively, that he should not bombard you with information. That he could make it worse, even worse he could aggravate your heart, and cause a relapse. He could hurt you, rather than help you, by trying to bring you back to yourself. If he rushes… if he loses the logical part of his brain… if he isn't careful.

He does not sleep when he is given a cot by the scientist you sneered at. He sits and he thinks and he stews. Working through the situation in his mind, he takes the tracker Sylus gave him off, and sticks it somewhere out of sight. Just in case. He doubts EVER are stupid enough to not have signal blockers in place, but he also knows that if it is cut off at some point, that will give his family something to work with.

If they know he has it though, there's a chance they'll move him. Or worse. He has a chance, right now, and he needs to be careful. He has to be smart.

It's difficult, though, when he saw you, when you raised a hand to him, to Sylus. When you fought and you hurt. He fights with himself, reminds himself that he is a doctor. That he can help you, like he would with your heart, like he would with any other injury. He can help you with this.

Even if his heart and mind are screaming at odds.

He's always been fairly good at listening to his mind… he just hopes it doesn't betray his heart.

Regardless of his sense of logic, he cannot simply sleep. There's a feeling over his shoulder that he's waiting to be watched, like if he sleeps someone will snatch him up. It's a paranoid sense of disturbance, that he cannot shake. Unable to relax in any real way. Unable to even feel tired, let alone finally sleep. So he sits, and he thinks.

For hours. He ignores the scientist, Leon. He calls out, asks to talk, and Zayne ignores him. There's nothing to say. He has been through this process, Carter asks, he rejects. They continue the cycle.

He wonders how long EVER will ask, now that he is here. How much patience they can possibly have.

If the anxieties of his family were anything to go on, when they were hunting, pulling in favours, chasing through the underworlds, he doubts it's plentiful. He cannot imagine anyone willing to experiment past the edges of morality, will hesitate too long on the cliff of conscience.

It is when he hears your voice through the feeble door, that he finally raises himself up. Takes the clothes he has been given, there is little else in this room, it's a broom closet, more than a room. He cannot clean up, cannot go through routines that give him some semblance of comfort. So he decides to simply face it, he has to.

"Where is your guest?"

Zayne looks at you, really looks. He had seen you in that cafe, had noticed the claw at your side in a flash out of the side of his vision. It is something else to see it in the lab's bright lights. As you growl at Leon, he sees fangs peeking out under your lips. Inhuman and out of place, though he remembers seeing something similar when you had been cursed by cats.

These are tinged red, from biting into your lip, and you twitch and clench your claw to a fist. He recognises the motion, normally you would seek out a hand, or someone's clothes to hold onto. To ground yourself. Later, twirling a dagger when on a mission, after Sylus taught you how.

His own hand reaches out on impulse as he approaches, to take yours. To ground you. To ground himself. It is a reflex that he has to pull back, reign in and remind. You will not take kindly to a stranger touching you. The feeling is like a shard of ice through his chest, that he is a stranger.

A target.

The kind of realisation that shatters at hope.

He thinks of moments when Rafayel had drunk too much, on days you were out on missions. The Lemurian had bemoaned the tides, the pains of being forgotten, the agony in his chest for things he didn't fully explain. Like he was offering Zayne parts of a puzzle, but holding back the box. He had only gleaned some sense out of the heartbroken Lemurian, placing a head in his lap, and running fingers through hair and over skin, wiping cried pearls away.

That memory was a fragile thing, that he already knew, saw shades of it when you reconnected, when you looked at him and didn't hate him for the way he had hurt you in your youth. Barely recognised stories he shared, only realising later when the recognition took longer to shine in your eyes. That the albums he had seen Caleb tend to with you, were for a purpose. To protect your memory, to strengthen the foundations.

That, despite the pain, he saw the same thing in Rafayel's heart that he saw in Caleb's in his childhood. A sheer determination, that no matter how many things were forgotten, that there would be more memories. Endless as the sky.

It kept the small jasmine of hope protected against the cold.

He still sees you, in the way you talk. There is none of what Xavier and Sylus recollected from their first run-in with you. None of the cold chill to your eyes like the previous day. He recognises this you, though you're short and you're angry. There's a familiarity to the casual tone, to the way you interact. Underneath the new scars he can see, the unfamiliar attachment, and the gold flickering around the edges of your eyes, you are there.

If he can only draw you out.

It should be a relief that you are forced to spend time with him, though the idea of you spending time with him under duress makes him feel sickened, instead he realises it is a threat. That like Carter has teased, multiple times, he would do anything for you. That all he has done in his pursuit of studying the heart, has been to save you.

Can he really keep that moral code, that the you now teases him for, when there is a chain around his love, keeping them at EVER's feet? It is a question that he truly hopes he never finds an answer to. He just needs time.

There are so many questions Zayne wants to ask you, so many things he needs to learn, to understand. Like there's a door he can push open if he gets the right key, and things will settle into place. It's a naive little thing, like every promise he makes against his logical judgement for an eternity.

Instead, his eyes are drawn to your bared arm, the lightning scars visible from yesterday, and he falls into familiarity, "Are you alright?"

He tries to offer the same smile he's offered to his patients, despite how he worries that it might tremble when you flinch away from him. Looking at him like he has lost his mind, irritated by his questioning.

So he tries again, tells you that it's natural for a doctor to worry. It's not a lie. Any real doctor would be concerned for others, their lives, especially if they were injured in front of them. There's a deeper, consistent reasoning. He loves you, your life means more to him than his own ever could. You're hurt, and even if he hadn't been your doctor for so long, not being able to help you, cut more than he expected.

Wrestling with the feeling, of wanting to reach out, to hold your hand, soothe aches and pains. Check your health, make sure you're alright. To be the one to heal you. Instead, he simply watches, the pout on your face as you respond to him in irritation. The way your gaze wavers when you look away. It's akin to embarrassment, a look he's seen on you when he teases, and you aren't sure how to respond.

You're out of your depth. It's endearing, even when you bite without cruelty.

He watches as you look past him, the gold in your eyes flickering, filling your irises. Leaning forwards, he reaches a hand out, waves it but you don't react. The gold flashes silver, and he finally finds his voice, "Darling?"

It slips out, but he watches as you blink. As the gold and silver filter away, and the familiar mismatch of your eyes returns to him. As you look at him, warmth in your eyes for a moment, and a flicker of a warm smile as you shiver, before you are this you again. You avoid his hands again, and sink your fang into your lip. He wants to reach out but he does not want to feel the sting of your withdrawal again.

He finds relief in the fact you have taken care of your wounds, as reserved about it as you are. So he tries something else. Decides to rattle you, watches you make him hot chocolate. You're short with him now, demanding he stay. There's a bite to your words, but your eyes…

You're sad. He doesn't know why, there's too much he doesn't know. What they've done to you, what you've been through in the months you've been separated. The way your shoulder droops as you make his drink, more careful with your actions. Carefully pouring, stirring with your left hand. For a second, he lets himself imagine you're home again. That he's sat working at the kitchen bar, Sylus reading a book nearby, Rafayel playing an overly noisy game on his phone, Xavier half reading a book and half drifting to sleep.

You're making drinks for them, humming and bobbing your head to music that is as familiar to him now as everything else in their home.

When you turn to hand it to him, he is still in that daydream. Taking it with hands too cold, and sipping. It is only when you point out the risk, that he pulls out of the fantasy.

That you are watching him, again, like he is insane, and every moment you call him Doctor is a spear.

He spent so long trying to be Zayne for you again, to overcome walls he had placed between you. Icy thorns, tangled around his heart, forcing his hand to be steadier. Controlled. He has lost so much time running from you, before he could finally open up, finally take your hand freely. Finally have you close to him, opening doors to the tower, letting him walk freely wherever he wanted.

Without fearing the ice as much as he had.

It's like he is back in the moment of when you first walked back through his door, keeping your distance. Calling him doctor, reacting with a lack of recognition when you see his face. There's even more of a frost to you now, and his title is bitten off.

He wonders how many doctors in EVER treat you with the same kindness those in Akso have.

He doubts any.

When you growl his name out, glaring at him, he cannot help the feeling. Like he's won something, he thinks it might be the same feeling he has when he has won a plushie out of the claw machine for you. Victory and pride, and warmth in this chest at the crooked smile you gave him. Even if you and Rafayel often tease him for not being very good at it.

Zayne learns a lot just watching, he's always needed to be observant, and the flickering of the gold of your resonance, over your skin, up your wanderer prosthetic, is uncontrolled. Driven by fluctuating emotions, that you cannot comprehend. He's familiar with the struggle, and he knows it is something you had struggled to learn. Now you are back at the space without the skills to navigate, with no comfort or safety to try.

"Did they hurt you?"

It feels like a stupid question, he can see new scars, that he has not traced with his fingers. He can see the shades of fear in you as you flinch out of his grasp. EVER have hurt you, he knows that.

Yet… he needs to know. Has to understand, if he ever hopes to fix it. He cannot cure something that he cannot see.

There's some guilt, that he could not help, that he has not been here. It's a pointless thing, to feel guilt. He is one man, all of his family cannot fight against EVER without struggling against it. Still… he cannot help but guilt when he sees your hand press to your chest. Is it a physical pain or an emotional one?, he wonders. Unable to ask. Press, push and pull like he wants.

You are not close enough to answer him. Biting back at all of his questions, bristling at him when he pries.

So when you question him, looking at him as you bring up the name he has called you so often, his heart skips. Darling has been as familiar on his tongue, as his own name could be. He remembers the moment he had first called you it, felt the heat on your cheeks, the glistening in your eyes. The way you had turned away to hide it, only to be pulled back to him. So that he could kiss you.

Whispering it against your lips. Tasting the sigh of his name in return. It had taken so much restraint from him to stop, when you needed to breathe. He was so desperate, his control fraying, his mind tumbling around the sensation, the need, the yearning. Everything he wanted, in his hands.

It fits you better than the words of EVER, ever could. You are not their weapon, or their rare beast to keep in a cage. You are his Darling. Rafayel's Cutie. Xavier's Starlight. Sylus' Kitten. You are you.

When Unicorn leaves his lips, he feels sickened by it. It is not you. It's not right, and he watches the flicker of pain in your eyes, like you wish he'd never said it. He wishes he had not, he wishes he could call you anything else. That the pain as you press to your chest was not so stark, that he could ignore it for a moment longer, to whisper your name.

It is patience, it is process. Medicine is not a quick and easy journey. Struggles with memory are never so simple to fix. He cannot say a word and watch you be healed in front of his eyes.

He has to remind himself. He has to remember.

Even if you cannot.

He can, and he can find a path forward.

Out of all the things that he wishes to know, he faces your wary gaze with a simple thing. He finds the doctor's manual, and he processes.

Dealing with those with memory loss. Keep questions simple, without being belittling. Do not ask if they remember certain things. Offer conversation, help build up rapport.

He has to remember, because if he cannot be your lover, he will be your doctor. He has always cared first and foremost about keeping you healthy.

If the look you give him, upon questioning about hobbies, is anything to go on, he has succeeded somewhat in disarming you. He remembers your reaction to finding out he had toothache and had been avoiding the dentist.

Disbelief, amusement, and the need to tease. If you had a tail, it would have flicked.

You have wide eyes, and blink at him. Startled, and he thinks of a cat. Though he would not do Sylus the pleasure of agreeing with the 'Kitten' moniker too loudly.

As you gaze off, you describe Destiny Cafe to him. Starry eyed, with gold flickering around the edges. Fading out of focus. Your words stall, and his heart skips again.

Despite everything, despite the situation you are in… you are drawn to places that you and they have left marks. A place that is as familiar as home, at this point. It tempers, reminding himself that he cannot cling too blindly to hope. Yet… against his will, it is water for the small flower he protects.

If even part of you remembers, there is hope.

He will fix this, he will see you find yourself again, offer you sanctuary even if you do not trust easily, and he will wait and find a way to get out of this nightmare.

He promised a future, and he will not let it go.

After all, you helped cut through the icy thorns for him. He will help you break down EVER's bars around you.

At the very least, he has a chance. If you are to be forced to spend your time with him, then he can use it to his advantage. He can ignore the ache, and find a goal. He chased medicine all his life to cure your heart, he is not one to quit.

Not on you.

Even as he stares his dead childhood friend in the face. As purple and pink eyes look back at him coldly.

As you step back from between them, and raise a brow.

There are questions on Zayne's tongue. So many, too many. What has EVER done to those he cares for, to have laid their damned claws into everything? Is it the fact he feels the distance in Caleb, that keeps him from doing much but holding his gaze. There is a feeling of being watched by a snake, that he has never felt before.

The Caleb he knows, beyond being protective, was warm. Even if most of it was reserved for you.

Zayne has never felt like a threat, not like this.

"How are you?"

His words come out short, when Zayne finally manages to pull himself out of thought, "I have been better." He receives a laugh in response, as empty as the man's eyes. Like he finds the situation of little interest. Like his childhood friends being caged by EVER are not a concern to him.

This waking nightmare feels less real by the moment, as he looks at the uniform. As he picks out the Farspace Fleet insignia. As he sees the colonel badge. As he pieces the vision together.

There is a biting, and vicious question that is out of his character, but is full of frustration and anger at all the things he has seen. That reminds him of Sylus on the floor, in pain, gasping. That makes him see the wanderer claw out the corner of his eye. That sees him stitching up a deep gash in Xavier's chest. That hears the eulogy from the bathroom as Rafayel mourns.

How could you stand there and see this happen?

How could you see this and not fight?

How could you claim to care for them, and turn a blind eye to their suffering?

So much, too much. Overwhelmed and hurting.

If there is a god Zayne can believe in, he wishes they would make this nightmare end.

"You two know each other?" You finally speak up, looking between them, and Zayne sees it. The wary look in your eye as you look at Caleb, the way you do not stand closer to either of them. Whatever the situation has become, you are not sure where you stand.

Caleb must notice it too, looking down at you. There's more warmth in his eyes when his gaze holds yours, and Zayne almost can trick himself into believing it's the same Caleb he knows.

"We used to be old friends, didn't we?"

"I suppose so."

"So that's how they plan to convince you, Zayne? An old friend?"

He almost laughs, it has no humour, and it would be a broken rattling thing, but he almost does. "Yes, I suppose you could say that."

You look incredulous at him, brow raised and chewing on your lip, like the idea is more confusing to you, than anything else right now. Like your dead best friend, is not the biggest question here. Like he is the odd one. He isn't lying to you either, the chain EVER want to place on him, is a reminder. Of the person he fought so hard to save, who is right in the grasp of people who would break you with such little effort.

It's simply not Caleb, who keeps him tethered.

It is not Caleb who reminds him that he is at EVER's mercy.

You say something under your breath, that he does not catch, shrugging to yourself.

"How about we chat, for a bit, Zayne? I'm sure Pipsqueak can go find some food, you haven't eaten yet, have you?"

This causes you to bristle, and Zayne watches as you move in front of him. Facing Caleb. There's a height difference, and you have to look up at him, but there's an immovable force. A tenseness to your claw, that reminds him that you are well trained.

And he is your job.

"Pipsqueak?" A flicker of doubt over Caleb's face, almost makes Zayne's anger temper. Almost.

"My job is to protect him, Caleb. I can't leave him alone."

There's a laugh, warm and jovial, as Caleb extends a hand towards your head, and goes to pat it, but you carefully move back a little more. Forcing Zayne back a step to avoid you bumping into him. It tapers out, the humour, and his eyes narrow up at Zayne like it is his fault, this is happening. "From me?"

"From everyone." Your voice is cold, the empty look in your eyes is back. The wall around you that forces the shocked, irritated looks to the back of his mind. The version of you he saw outside your home. Ready to hurt anyone in your path to fulfill your role.

The weapon EVER are so ready to throw at others.

Zayne watches, and he waits, in the course of your conversation he learned you carry out your jobs, no matter what. Even if you bristled at the orders. He wonders if you could bring Caleb to his knees like you did with Sylus, angry and snarling.

Caleb's eyes narrow, and then soften, his hands up. Appeasing, his smile is wide but Zayne can't feel the warmth from it. Too busy overlapping the chill in his gaze, with the friend he grew up with. "Alright Pipsqueak, I get it. No leaving the doctor alone, why don't I go and get us connected rooms sorted so it's easier to guard him?"

Your hackles raise, then ease, then settle. The gold that was drifting down your claw, now dissipates, leaving flickering around your eyes once more. You don't smile, but you do nod, "That would be helpful, thank you Caleb." This time when the hand extends to your head, you do not pull from Caleb, and Zayne finds himself irritatingly jealous.

It is a feeling he is not very familiar with, so used to reaching out and touching you. To knowing you inside and out. To being more than confident in every moment spent, every day lived, and every experience had by your side.

Now he is nothing more than a stranger, watching you pull away from him, into someone else's arms.

He's only slightly relieved when you seem to have enough of being touched, pulling back and indicating for him to follow, "Let's go, before there's no food left." You glance at Caleb, then back at Zayne, then urge him to keep up as you leave. He follows, as quickly as he can. Unwilling to strain the new found relationship, when he sees how wary you are of someone you trusted implicitly.

That if he came to it… he has no idea if you would align yourself with EVER, or with Caleb. Which is a question that while he never thought he would ask, he certainly never thought the answer would be so clouded in mystery.

As he leaves, his head slightly turns to glance at Caleb. The flash of hurt in purple eyes quickly smothered, makes him think he is not the only one with the question.

—---

Your time with Zayne is time you aren't sure how to fill. You cannot remember the last time you spent an extended period of time with anyone.

So you do what you can think of. Imagining he's a pet you have to take care of. It's an insulting assessment, but you know the basics for it better than you know the basics of general human survival. Eat, sleep, repeat, you think. Truthfully though, you don't want to parade the man around EVER's compound.

As you enter the canteen you see all the faceless white coats who you barely want to acknowledge, look up at your entrance. Unlike Zayne, who takes a cursory look around him, you keep eyes forward. There's nothing to be gained from their curiosity. Just more agony, and more probing questions.

At least the doctor's questions aren't met at the end of a scalpel you can feel in your flesh, like one of their cruel vivisections.

"Pick." You indicate the menu, looking over at the machines. It's a simple automated system, the less people in the compound the better. You see the OTTO bouncing about as they clean up, or bring trays to people.

It's a simple enough system, so you don't have to explain it, while you stand by his side and look around.

Shooting particularly sharp eyes at some scientists staring far too much at your new charge.

You hope, your only charge.

"Done." You look back and see he's inputted his choice, and then see that he's inputted for chocolate cake. He at least has the decency to look a little red faced when you raise a brow at him.

He's a mystery you won't entertain.

You can't.

So you shrug and shove in an order for whatever won't turn your stomach. You haven't eaten properly, besides some fruit slices, and you doubt you'll keep the prepared food down much longer than usual. Still, if you don't try you worry Leon will find out and inform the lab coats. Then you'll be hooked up to an IV, and forced through the process of keeping your body workable.

They can't risk a knife rusting, after all.

The canteen is as silent as it always is when you enter, like if they talk you'll bite. You're used to the treatment, but Zayne lets out a small chuckle, "Is it against the rules to talk when you're a member of EVER?"

You almost laugh, almost, biting it back down because it's not exactly inaccurate. Everyone here knows something, that if they shared would get them killed. Still, it's not that threat keeping them silent. "They're too curious about you Doctor Li." You respond, taking the trays away from the OTTO, shoving them at the Doctor so you're free just in case, and leading him to a table that keeps his back to the wall.

"Eat."

"Am I going to be ordered around a lot, going forwards? Is the correct response, yes zir?"

"The correct response is to eat. If you drop down out of malnutrition, I've failed my job."

"Ah, can't have a stain on your record now, can we?" There's no venom when he says it, and when you look at him, he does not look at you like he's picking a fight. His eyes aren't cold, in fact they're as warm as they always seem to be, but the words do hurt.

You aren't sure why. It should be a badge of honour, that you've never failed. Even in all your ignorance, though, you know blood on your hand is nothing to sing for.

Not in front of a man who has made promises to save people. You are diametrically opposed.

He should hate you, for everything you represent. Instead he simply seems at peace to eat, next to you.

Surely it is an insanity, to sit next to a killer, and not even check your food for poison?

Still, would you hurt him? Not right now, you have your orders. To keep him safe, protect him. From anyone, even yourself.

Even Caleb…

The cold look in his eyes is embedded in your mind, the way he glared at Zayne, someone who should have been his friend. You look up at Zayne, watching him eat cake as if he hasn't a care in the world, but you notice the tapping of his finger against the table. It's quiet, and he's looking off as he eats.

You remember the anxious energy you get in your hand without your dagger to twirl.

Perhaps that's something you can understand. The mask. It makes him easier to understand, to believe.

You still can't bring yourself to ask.

Do you really want to know more about this man, to humanise him more than he already is, if the order comes down that he's not needed anymore?

"When did Caleb return?"

He does not give you the reprieve of avoiding it, but you're not even sure how to respond. If you should even tell him anything. You remember him picking at the fact this is personal information. It's not a threat to EVER. For all reasoning you have no orders to keep this secret. There's little stopping you sharing whatever you like.

Information is dangerous, in anyone's hands. Even if you feel a little foolish for thinking this doctor might not be one of them.

"Does it matter?"

He pushes some of the cake over to you, when he realises you've barely eaten anything. Picked at some vegetables, speared them around the plate and then ignored them. You hesitate before taking a bite, the sweetness spreading over your tongue.

For a moment you hear laughter, and see a warm smile, as you eat. Before it fades, and you hear him speak again, "He was dead for a year. I mourned him. I just want to understand what happened."

You see the flash of pain in his eyes, the way his tapping speeds up for a moment, before he pulls his restless hands out of your view. Steadying himself with an exhale.

You aren't sure what part of your twisted heart compels you… but you don't want to hide this information, "Yesterday, I saw him again yesterday. He told me he was gone for a year, but I don't remember anything beyond that."

"Nothing?"

You bristle, the idea of sharing anymore about it does not appeal, no matter how warm his eyes are. You aren't sure if it's protectivity over your own being, or if it's fear. So you clamp shut again, sitting back and pushing the cake back to him.

He seems to accept the close of topic, and tries something else, "Have you noticed anything-" He pauses, seems to think of how to word it, "Odd, about him?"

"Odd about me, Zayne? Am I so different?"

You look to the side, as Caleb approaches, his hat pulled down to cover his eyes somewhat. He's smiling, but it's the same smile you saw earlier. Chilling, and unwelcoming, even though when he turns to look at you. It blooms brighter.

You can't quite figure out what it means.

Why he would level a glare at someone he called a friend.

Or why it would make you feel like stepping away that you noticed it.

Zayne lets out a sigh, and you're impressed when his expression does not change at being heard, or when he simply raises his head to nod in greeting, "It's been a year. Everyone changes with time, Colonel."

"Please, how long have we known each other? It's Caleb." He pulls out a chair to join you both at the table, a steady smile on his face. Warmer now, like he's thawed.

You wait for a sign the frost is returning.

"Still have a sweet tooth? It seems some things don't change."

"If it isn't broken." Is the level response, as he finishes.

"I'm sure your dentist wouldn't agree." You respond, looking down at your plate, before you blink. Why… did you-

The chuckle is small, and warm eyes watch you when you raise your head at the sound. The doctor nods, "He wouldn't, no."

You try to hold his gaze, stunned at the way he watches you, at the words out of your mouth before you'd even processed you were speaking, and let out a tch. Turning your face away, catching Caleb watching you.

His expression is flat, before his eyes meet yours, and he smiles at you. Warm and sunny, "Are you finished?"

You look down at the still full plate and ache a little at the waste. You go through this process every now and then, order, stomach a bite, feel torn up, and stop. "I'm not hungry."

Zayne doesn't bring up your growling stomach from earlier, he simply watches like he wants to say something to you, but isn't sure what or where to begin. You can only imagine what an actually good doctor might say.

You're going to be sick. You're not taking care of yourself. You need to eat.

You know that, you know logically you need to…

You think about the pastries in the cafe, the only thing you'd managed to keep down. Maybe you could convince Leon to get you more.

Or would they turn to ashes in your mouth if you eat them in EVER's walls.

"How about I cook for you next time? It's been a while, after all." You flinch, looking up at Caleb. Like he's seen through you, like he knows more than you want him to. That feeling like he and the doctor can see through you. Read whatever they want through walls.

You want to shiver at it, but you also don't want them to see more. If there's even a point, anymore, to hiding.

"Surely you're busy with work for the fleet?" Zayne interrupts, "Do you have the time to spend here?"

A muscle in Caleb's jaw jumps, and you watch his eyes change, as he looks at Zayne, "I have plenty of time for when Pipsqueak needs me."

This time when Caleb talks, he keeps his gaze mostly on Zayne, but his voice is warmer, "How about we go to see Skyhaven soon, Pipsqueak, and I can make you food there?"

It's like you're watching a tug of war, in a game you don't even remember seeing start. You suddenly want to ask if friend is even the word for whatever these two are. You're almost sure a friend isn't supposed to glare at you.

Almost.

But you can feel eyes at your back, can feel too many people curious about the Colonel, and his conversation with EVER's pet, and the new doctor. Can already tell the second you leave this room, the gossip will become unbearable. You'll hear it in whispers for weeks at the least. Until another horrible thing happens to draw the vulture's attention.

So you push back out of your seat and look at Zayne, "We should go."

Before you can begin to force the man out of the room, Caleb stands, "What about a tour? I've sorted out the rooms, so we may as well show our dear doctor around, right Pipsqueak?"

"Can't we just give him a map?"

You barely have time to react when he ruffles your hair again, laughing at you, "Come on, be a tour guide for a little bit, instead of a guard."

There's a biting remark on the tip of your tongue, to the effect of 'I'm only spending time here to guard him.' It feels like too much effort though, to argue when you can see the immovable object that is Caleb.

Especially when Zayne steps over and nods, "It would be prudent to see the place properly."

You're sure he wants to investigate to figure out how to escape, if he's foolish enough to think that's an option, you may as well make your life easier and show him how it's not. At the very least you won't have to chase him through the corridors at any point, while he tries to find one door that will let him outside.

It doesn't sound like a good use of the time you don't spend sleeping.

"Fine."

So you follow along, truthfully, Caleb does the tour. You barely know where anything other than the training room and Leon's lab is. You can find your way mostly, but if anyone asked what rooms were what you'd be pointing them at the signs.

There's a small voice in the back of your mind, that wonders why Caleb, of all people, knows the place inside and out.

You remind yourself that EVER brought him back. Maybe in this specific compound.

It's a good enough reason.

So you allow yourself to be led around, nodding on occasion but mostly watching. Zayne, to try to puzzle out what is going through his head, and Caleb, to try to understand the feeling you've felt since that cold smile had shown on his face.

"Do you not spend much time in the compound?" Zayne asks you at some point while you're shrugging at an anecdote Caleb offers about a specific lab's work.

"I told you, I train, I get experimented on, I go to sleep. I only need three rooms for that. The rest of this place is a maze I have no interest getting lost in."

"They need more signs, otherwise one day I'm going to get a message from you going 'Hey Caleb I'm lost.' again."

Again?

It's cold. You're so cold.

Hair soaked to your skin, the chill biting at you.

Your chest aches and hurts and twists. Sobbing and choking and gasping on air.

It's so cold and you just want it to stop.

It's too much, why won't it stop?

"Pipsqueak, I found you."

"Pipsqueak?"

You stumble back at hands on your skin. Caleb pulls his own back to show you it, as you leave his grasp. The Doctor with his own outstretched. You shake your head, clearing it, fighting through the crackling edges of broken ghosts.

"I'm fine." It's broken and choked and cracking. You're not fine. You can't be. You need to be fixed, you need whatever is wrong with you to stop. "Just tired."

They don't believe you, you see the doubt in eyes. Worry, things you don't want to see.

You don't deserve it and you don't want it.

You can't keep looking at them.

"The joined room is ready, we can go back there, you can get some sleep, and Zayne can be safe in the next room over." Caleb offers, trying to catch your gaze, as you stubbornly keep your eyes away. "I can get him a book or something, that'll waste a few hours."

You're barely listening. You need to see Philip. Need him to fix your head.

If you tell him, maybe you won't be subjected to something more painful.

You force a nod, "Sure. Sleep." You're barely aware enough to be ashamed of how your voice breaks, how your fingers are trembling, so you shove them into pockets, and clench your claw into a fist. "Let's go."

You're a better tool than this, you're better at what you do than this… yet as you walk away, at no point do you turn to check your charge is safely following.

—----

Caleb tries to tell himself that you're fine, that you will be fine. As he sits near the bed where you're curled up in on yourself, he tells himself that. Over and over like a mantra. That you'll be alright.

He's angry, and frustrated, that part of EVER's plans involve dangling you around Zayne like some treat he'll get if he's a well behaved dog. If he follows their orders and does what they ask. That you don't understand the game you're being played as a pawn in. That you don't have the answers.

There is a tearing in his heart, that cannot decide whether telling you is better than keeping it secret. The more you know, the better prepared you will be… the more you know, the more at risk you are of fighting back. He cannot put ammo in your hands, that will inevitably end up in your own head.

It is not a risk he will take. Not now, not now he finally has you back.

He gently takes your hand, to press a kiss to the back of it, as you talk in your sleep. Another trait that has not dissipated along with your memories.

For a moment, Caleb wonders what Zayne saw when he saw you. He's no fool, and he has kept a close eye. Has seen how close you have gotten to their common companion. Has watched dates with that 'family', the word turns his stomach, and seen the touches. The kisses, the contact. Has seen you smile and laugh and live happily with them.

He can touch you now though. His lips on your skin. His hand on your head. His body at your side in your sleep.

He is the only one you can really trust here, because he will never abandon you.

He will do whatever it takes, to protect you.

In a world with just the two of you.

His mind unwillingly calls up the cold look you had levelled him with. The way you had stood in front of Zayne like a guardian, had moved away from his touch, like he was the thing to fight against. That he was the enemy.

Caleb tries not to think of it, of the wary, chilled look. No recognition or acknowledgement. He tries to focus instead on the heat of you through his left hand. The scent of the shampoo you use. The soft exhales through your parted lips.

Today had called images into his mind that while he would hate to forget any part of you, the particular memories of his childhood were unnecessary. That even for a split second, as he'd walked with Zayne and you, he had felt like that young boy, playing with a younger you. That everytime he had turned around you were there, pulling Zayne along with you, in case he was left behind.

That there were days in warm summer sun where you had spent time on swing sets. Where on cooler days after school, you had studied together, Caleb trying to outpace Zayne so that he could be the one to show you how to do calculations. That he tried not to see times when you used your change to buy sweets, to share with Zayne so he wouldn't be embarrassed about his sweet tooth.

That he'd do something stupid to impress or appease one of your requests, falling or catching himself on something, only for Zayne to help clean his wounds and take care of his injuries. As much as he frowned and said he was fine. The older boy had simply carried on wiping with antiseptic, and carefully bandaging him up.

That all he needed to do was think about what games to keep you entertained, or what school work hung over your heads. That those warmer days faded after as you became older teens. As Zayne left, and he never really understood why. As your heart ached more and more, and you finally faced your painful reality.

As he watched his world start to shatter again.

That finding time to just watch the sunset by the river was harder and harder to do, no matter how much time he wanted to make for you. How as time passed, that small smile and warm laugh got weaker and weaker, more withdrawn. Before you stopped altogether.

He had forgotten, he supposed, how cruel the world was to you both. Allowed himself to be foolish, allowed himself to forget Gran's words. 'Keep them safe'.

Now he was dealing with what he had wrought in his ignorance. His blind foolishness, had led to this outcome.

So he had to find a way to keep you safe.

He had to protect your world together.

No matter what it is that lies as a threat.

The door to Zayne's room is easily opened, and he does not knock, does not ask for entry. He pushes the door open and steps inside. He watches Zayne sit up, ice in his hand, the cold swirls travelling over his skin. He watches as the man's eyes move past him, through the gap in the door, to where you sleep.

Irritation swirls. A protective craving and bite. The thought of a rotting apple falling to the floor. He pushes it closed, so he won't be able to see you. He doesn't deserve to see you. He didn't protect you well enough either.

He failed to fix your heart too.

Zayne is just as foolish, if not more so, than he is.

"You're prone to sneaking around now Caleb?" If there's something to be said for Zayne, it is that his expression does not change when he looks at Caleb. When he sees the threat. He's always had little change to his face, even as kids. You were convinced he hated you for a long time, because of it. Caleb had known differently, but telling you so would require telling you how much Zayne had liked you.

It hadn't been a conversation he wanted to have.

"I wouldn't want to raise my Pipsqueak's ire again, now would I?"

"Their job is just to protect me, unless you plan to kill me-"

Caleb barely keeps himself from twitching, but he isn't convinced his expression is as level as he likes, the impulse to bare teeth at the man is immense. To suggest he would ever go out of his way to ruin one of your jobs, without a good reason. That the man has the gall to flaunt his 'protection', in Caleb's face. A reminder of the leash about your neck, that now this man holds.

That you are a tool for him, is his misconception.

It is pulled back, as he reminds himself he has a mask for this moment. That his every day as a colonel, has taught him how to lie, and keep things hidden. That the very act of wearing it was how he survived. How he got back to you. That without it, without every lie he has ever told, he would not be able to keep you safe now.

"No, I wouldn't want them to fail one of their orders for EVER. That would be disastrous. They have a clean record, you won't be the reason that changes." He leans against the wall, and indicates to Zayne with a finger outstretched, "I just wanted to remind you not to do anything stupid."

"I would have believed my old friend would know me to be anything but stupid, after all, I helped you with your studies too."

It irritates him, the reminder, the knowledge of times he hadn't been enough, and had needed someone else to cover where he lacked. It wasn't true anymore, he didn't need Zayne's helping hand. He doesn't need anyone's hand, except for yours.

"What strikes me as stupid, is the situation we have found ourselves in. Or perhaps, foolish, is a better term. After all, what could possibly have convinced you that this is the right place for them to be?"

Like he understands, like the choice was ever that easy.

"This, or a grave, Zayne, which would you choose?"

"Better to die with your mind intact, than live as a monster."

He laughs, it is a scoff and it is bitter, and he turns away from the man. Thinks about moments in that testing facility. At every electric shock through his limbs to make him work like the tool they needed him to be. To make his arm function, to make him a reliable weapon.

A monster. He thinks about how he despises the thing they put to him, that perhaps it's true and the cybernetics make him a monster. That his right arm is dirty and filthy and every choice he has made, made him a beast. If he is a beast, however, he will be a beast for you. In service to you. That even if you do not know it, the fact your right arm carries the beast of burden too, makes him feel like you two still are the only two that matter in this filthy place.

That at the very least, even though he wishes it had never happened, he shares the connection that only you can understand. With your claw soaked and stained in blood he knows you cannot wash clean.

Just like he cannot.

"A monster, mhm? Is that what they are now, to you?"

Zayne does not respond, just looks at him, cool, calm eyes watching him. Caleb tries not to remember moments in childhood, when he'd gotten hurt, and Zayne had simply watched him until he finally cracked and confessed so. So the younger boy could help him with his cuts.

They aren't kids anymore.

"I'm keeping them safe, what could you possibly understand of that?"

"Safe? In EVER's den? With them watching every move, keeping track of everything that happens? Holding onto them like they're some kind of attack dog?"

It's the first time Caleb has seen real emotion leak out of him. That in all the time, watching and keeping an eye on him, that Zayne bites. He watches the ice spread up his arm, as his emotions fluctuate.

So he really still can't control it, is a thought that flickers through his mind. A reminder of seeing through the camera, as you resonate with him. Keeping him from hurting himself, or others. Easing the out of control ice down.

You're not here, though, and Caleb watches as the hand tightens. Then eases open, and the ice fades back away, as the cold man warms back up.

It's another reminder, that Zayne cannot help you. When he cannot even really help himself.

An assurance, to Caleb, that he is the best place to keep you safe.

"At least they have me protecting them."

"Who is protecting them from you?"

He's a controlled man, he tries to be. Violence is to be used carefully. His EVOL is a tool, a powerful one, that he has harnessed and learned out of need and through pain. That every experiment his was subjected to, as a child, and as an adult, has made him stronger. That when he needs it, he can use it with a wave of his hand.

That he can bring forth a black hole like it's nothing.

For a split second, his hand twitches, and he feels his anger pull. Zayne's shoulders slump, and he chokes on nothing, before Caleb pulls it back. Reels himself in, steadies it. He cannot kill the man. He cannot hurt him, not when you will suffer it.

He will not hurt you. Ever. You are the one thing in this world he values, that he cares for. You are everything. His beacon and his home base. No matter what, you are where he belongs.

You do not need protecting from him, because he loves you. More than you'll ever understand, more than you'll ever know. More than he'll ever tell you. "I would never hurt them. Ever." It feels wet, like he's close to tears, choked out on the feeling.

The idea of his hands ever being responsible for your pain.

He will never be a weapon to hurt you. No matter what anyone else intends.

"You are, keeping them here, helping EVER, is hurting them. You have to be smarter than this Caleb, surely?"

"Don't act like you could understand this. All you have to do is help them, and they'll leave you alone. Let you do your work, and you won't have to look over your shoulder anymore-" It's not true, it's never true. Caleb knows that, he knows Zayne will never be safe from them anymore. No one will ever be safe from EVER. There is not a safe place in this world anymore. "Pipsqueak can't. Pipsqueak will never be safe from them. They always find us, they always will."

There is nowhere he can run with you, nowhere he can hide you. There is no place EVER cannot touch. He hates every time he realises, every time he remembers the simple fact. That even if he took you to another world, they would follow.

"Caleb-" Zayne tries, trying to catch his gaze, and he simply turns away. Staring directly at the wall. Like if he could look out through it, he could see something better.

Zayne can't understand. Not really.

He hasn't lived through the tests, the iron grip over your lives.

The snapshot of time without EVER's cruelty was too short, before they found you both again.

This entire world is filthy. It's ruined everything. Every happy moment, and every bit of joy. It has done nothing but hurt you, taken from you. There is nothing to be gained from a world that does nothing but hurt. When the day comes and he figures out how to destroy it, he'll do so gladly.

He'll build somewhere better, where you can be happy, and safe. Where the two of you will finally be free, away from pain. Where he won't have to lie to you again. Where he can finally touch you at will and tell you every secret in his heart.

It is a dream within a dream, he wants nothing more than to make it a reality.

"All you need to do Zayne, is stay in line. Don't cause issues, don't make their job harder. Let this pass, and accept your new reality."

The words do not stop him from sighing, or speaking out again, voice steady but desperate. As though he truly needs Caleb to understand.

"If you really knew them, you would know this isn't what they would want. You urged them to be a hunter, you wanted them to help people to protect the world. Surely you know they don't want to abandon everything they care about? The people they love?" He exhales, "Do they look happy to you? Is this what you want to protect so badly? Do they want all this blood on their hands?"

This time, his anger truly gets the best of him. It's an ice cold chill that rivals Zayne's EVOL. He clearly does not expect it, because it takes too long for him to react as Caleb tightens his cybernetic hand around the man's throat and squeezes. He can't feel it, but he can watch. The pain flickering through Zayne's eyes. The shock. As his hand raises sluggishly to tighten a grip around his wrist. As the ice spears through Caleb's synthetic skin and tries to pry through the cybernetics.

He watches with a degree of glee, as he sees Zayne see the cybernetics. As he comes face to face with the way EVER has rebuilt him. There is pain in him at the damage the ice causes. He knows he'll have to go through repairs again, agony waiting on the horizon. It is with irritation that when the sensation of his arm comes back to him, it is through the pain, and is the feeling of Zayne's skin under his iron grip.

His sensations should be saved for you, as rare as they are.

Still, at least he knows it will leave a reminding bruise.

"Don't you dare act like you know them better than me, Zayne. Everything I have ever done, has been for them. Everything I am, every choice I've made. For them."

The creak of the door filters through his anger, reminds him that he cannot kill the man, not if he doesn't have to. Not if it leaves you punished for no reason. Not if you give him that look again, cold and wary. Like he is not the only person you can trust.

Like he's not your only real ally in this world.

You're in pain, but he can help you, and when he has, you'll never feel pain like this ever again.

You'll understand one day, that there's nothing redeemable about this world. That he can build a better one just for you. As good a heart as you have, as much as you care. He knows you'll understand.

You have to.

He backs away, releases Zayne like he scorches to touch. Pushing him back and away, and feels himself laugh under the strain of his aching heart, "If it comes down to a choice, Zayne, of your life or theirs. It will be an easy choice to make. If I have to kill you, no matter their mission, no matter what will happen, if the alternative is EVER's chip in their head, then I will do it."

Zayne rubs at the skin around his neck, and as Caleb turns, walking back to the door, back to you. Where he belongs. He hears a raw and scratchy voice behind him, rough with pain, "When you wake up from this dream Caleb, you're going to be horrified of what you've wrought."

He finds himself laughing again but it doesn't feel funny, and looks back to smile, "Well Doctor, at least I'm not living in a nightmare."

—---

You're inside a cage. The bars are rusted and it's too small to stand in. Hands and knees, with a dirty dog bowl as the only other thing in there.

You crawl to the gate, grab at it with the claw. Pull and tug and rattle it, but no matter how much you try it does not open. No matter how rusted the bars are they do not break. You don't stop, pulling and clawing at them, until the lights switch on.

A man in a black uniform, hat pulled low enters. You cannot see his face, can't make him out. No matter how you crane your neck to try to look up at him.

When your mouth opens, instead of words, you whine. Hurt and wounded like an injured dog.

He exhales, and reaches for the gate. Opens it, and then leaves.

It's a moment, when you wait. For him to come back and lock it again. To bring you a new bowl. To do anything. As you hesitate on the threshold.

When your sad, hurting heart tells you one thing.

He is never coming back.

Unneeded, unwanted, and worthless.

You have been abandoned.

You crawl out of the cage, drag yourself over the ground, your legs too shaky and unused to the space to stand to do more than stumble and fall as you try to raise yourself up. Scrapping and tearing each time you make impact with the floor.

As you reach the door he left through, the lights flick back off, and you fall through the floor.

It is almost a quiet bliss as you fall now. The ground will approach, and you will hit it. The assurance, and the knowledge of that fact, comforts you.

Because you ache, and you hurt, and no one is coming back for you.

The claw is so cold on your skin, as you wrap your arms around yourself. Seeking out any degree of comfort, any reminder of what it felt like.

Surely, at one point, you knew that. Knew kindness and warmth.

You can hear the whine in your throat, the feeling like you want to sob but can't. Falling backwards into the abyss.

When your body slows, stopping, floating. You wait for the sudden impact, for the assurance of the end.

You wait, and you wait, and it does not come.

Flickering blue lights and static.

There is no sudden relief, there is no release.

You're going to wake back up in the cage again. Left to stare at the dirty bowl as company. Waiting for something that never arrives.

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frozen-seagrass · 5 months ago

Text

Thinking about Mav being unsure of what Ice's eye color is

Of course he's not going to do the normal thing and ask the man, so he settles for finding ways to get up close and personal to try and see for himself without being obvious (-> he fails)

But every time he gets a close enough look they're different. One day they look blue but the next they look hazel. One moment they look brown but then he turns his head and a different light catches on them and they look almost green

It turns into one big game of "How close will he let me get? How much will he let me see?" And it's not until he's gotten to the point of being a breath away from Ice's face- close enough to brush lips- and standing under the bright white LEDs that he realizes that they're gray

#remove the the “r” and they're gay too #mav going insane because he can't narrow down ice's eye color while everyone else also goes insane because they're so fucking tired of the-#bullshit icemav courting ritual they're all being subjected to #mav is NOT subtle #what's that? you want to know they color of your wingman's eyes?#you could've just asked but no you want to get “close and personal”. ok gayboy #this was inspired by the fact mav refers to Ice as “Ice Eyes” in the novel #there is nothing normal about these freaks #top gun #pete maverick mitchell #tom iceman kazansky #icemav #maverick x iceman #iceman x maverick #long suffering rios #<- because you can't tell me goose (if he lived) and slider are not constantly banging their heads into the wall #as well as literally anyone in the general vicinity of icemav #they are SO stupid #5+ 1 fanfic when?#i cannot write for shit but if anyone does i will have your hand in marriage #val kilmer my mfing beloved #and his beautiful eyes

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synvil · 3 months ago

Text

can’t swim // rafe cameron

a / n : rafe cameron thoughts. btw this was actually an anonymous ask i sent to a writer, i don’t know if she’ll write it but im sure if she does, it’ll turn out amazing. @rafeysbunny i’m 🧋 anon, hehe.

fun fact, i cannot swim.

synopsis : in which, rafe overhears that you can’t swim and during a party out on the docks, some of the kooks push you into the ocean to loosen you up.

warnings : reader can’t swim. kelce being an ass, peer pressure, etc.

“are you serious, [Name]?”

The raised tone of her voice causes you to shush her as you tuck a strand of your hair behind your ear and purse your lips faintly. “Not so loud, sare..” You let out a small breath and frown, leaning back against the headboard of her bed.

Sarah nods in understanding, lowering her tone as she sighs softly and crosses her legs on the bed in front of you. “That’s crazy- i mean, everyone here in Outer Banks are either surfers or decent swimmers.”

“Except me..” You trail off, shutting your eyes as you bring your hands up to your face. “It’s pretty humiliating, you know.. Seeing everyone in their swimsuits and able to swim in the ocean or go surfing, without the fear of drowning.”

“Wow, no wonder you wouldn’t ever go into the pool or go swimming with us during the boat parties on the dock..”

Unbeknownst to you two, Sarah’s door was open and a passing Rafe Cameron was on his way downstairs when he overhears your conversation.

“It’s not like I haven’t tried, but each time, I feel my body sinking and it terrifies me. Plus, y’know, with the whole nearly drowning as a kid trauma and shit.” you force a laugh while Sarah shares a bittersweet smile.

“It’s alright, stay by me tonight and I’ll keep an eye out for you.”

“Thanks, Sarah, I appreciate it.. and you can’t tell anyone either, okay, especially not Rafe.” You warn pleadingly and she chuckles and nods. “wait, why specifically him?”

You feel your cheeks warm at her question as you turn away. “Your brother just seems like the type to make fun of me for it, and besides, it’s just embarrassing to have a guy i think is hot, to know that about me.”

Sarah scrunches her nose and shudders. “I think your crush on my brother is more embarrassing than you being unable to swim.” she teases and you playfully push her away from you as she breaks into a laugh.

Rafe peeks into the room and thinks for a moment as his eyes examine and take in your form. He has already known long ago of your developed crush on him, and to say he has a mutual infatuation with you may be an understatement.

Every time you come over, Rafe finds every excuse to be in the house, sometimes even in the same room, just to get a look at you.

The way you tuck your hair behind your ear when you feel shy, the way your eyes light up when you laugh, everything entices him, intrigues him. You were just so perfect.

Rafe quickly pulls away when he hears movement and leans against the wall beside the doorframe for a moment.

Despite being a little surprised at the newfound information, it brought a little smile to his face. You can’t swim? How cute.

“Come on, we should get ready for Topper’s party tonight.” Sarah says and you sigh softly, but get up anyways with her as she heads over to her closet. “It’ll be fun, come on.”

Rafe lingers for a second longer as he imagines what you’ll be wearing before taking his leave downstairs.

It’s around ten at night when the two of you arrive at the docks, the night sky surrounding the area with only the lights of Topper’s large boat illuminating the place.

“I don’t know, maybe i shouldn’t be here..” You go to turn around but Sarah stops you, pulling you to her side. “Come on, it’ll be okay, i promise. Besides, you look super cute, so flaunt it, okay?” She winks and you huff a breath before following after her.

The closer you get, the louder the partygoers become and the music blasting is enough to stimulate the senses.

Once you get on board, Sarah is engulfed by her friends, while you remain on the sideline with a weak smile and awkwardly hugging your arms. Despite being a kook, you weren’t among the popular ones but that wasn’t enough to get you on their bad side at least.

You rub your arms, the thin fabric of your cardigan doing nothing but add to Sarah’s fashion sense of your outfit tonight. In her baby blue, cropped cardigan, a matching spaghetti strapped solid colored tank and dark washed, high waisted denim shorts.

You help yourself to the bar, grabbing a red solo cup and letting the bartender fill the plastic cup with some beer before bringing it to your lips, hoping it would do some good to alleviate some anxiety, while you keep an eye on Sarah from nearby, who’s talking with her friends.

The scene brings a smile to your lips when you recall her saying she would keep an eye on you earlier in the day but you were happy to see her enjoy herself.

However, you didn’t get to enjoy much time alone as Topper and his friends make his way over to you.

“Hey, [Name]. All alone again?” Kelce smirks and you merely offer a small smile in return. “Not much of a party kinda girl.. but it’s nice.” you mention the last part to Topper who dismisses you, understanding you meant no offense.

“Where’s Sarah?” Topper asks, looking around the area and you gesture over a little ways nearby.

“She’s talking with some friends.” You reply, tapping my fingers against my cup as you shift your footing, feeling the anxiety come back, causing you to take another sip of your drink.

You let your eyes wander around the group, briefly catching Rafe’s, who let his eyes trail up and down your form for a moment, taking in your appearance. The way the baby blue color popped against your skin, the way your hair was styled for tonight’s party. Even the way you shyly held your cup to your chest, fingers still tapping against the sides.

Feeling your cheeks warm from Rafe’s intense gaze, you turn away and look back to Kelce.

Kelce and some of the other guys step closer and you give a small smile to them. “Is there something I can help you with?”

“Come on, [Name]. We notice you always come to these parties but you don’t do anything,” Kelce mentions and you force a chuckle. “I’m an observer.” but some of the other guys don’t take that answer. “All we’re saying is, you should loosen up a little. Come on, some of the girls are taking dives off the tail, you should join.”

Your eyes widen slightly and you wave off the idea. “No, i think im good tonight, im actually pretty tired..” You say and Kelce scoffs lightly as his hand goes down to grab your wrist. “Don’t be a buzzkill, [Name], the water will wake you right up.”

“Kelce, i’m not really in the mood to-“ Rafe places a hand on Kelce’s shoulder, stopping him. “Let go, dude, let’s just leave her alone.” But Kelce doesn’t listen as he drags you along to where the other girls are, and the commotion causes all the partygoers to look over, Sarah looking your way.

Your eyes meet Rafe’s and he notices a look of fear and anxiety in them as Kelce brings you over and you try to pull away, the other guys surrounding you all, cheering Kelce and You.

“Yeah!”

“Come on, loosen up, girly.”

“Kelce, I really don’t—“ Despite your futile attempts, Kelce just takes the cup from your hands while Sarah pushes her way through the crowd. “Hey, Kelce, leave her alone!”

Rafe purses his lips and pulls Kelce away. “Hey, seriously, that’s enough.” He warns, pushing Kelce back, who just furrows his brows and scoffs. “What the hell? Why are you getting in the way, man?”

Sarah manages to get to your side, standing over you protectively. But the other girls now get in the way.

“Come on, Sarah, let [Name] do it.”

“it’s not scary.”

You shake your head again, as the girls pull Sarah away, leaving you alone with the kook surrounding you.

Rafe is pushing Kelce away, who’s confused and pushing Rafe back in retaliation. Meanwhile this leaves the other Kooks to act freely and the guys seem to share the same idea and go over to your body.

“Hey, hold on—“

But it’s too late, as the guys pick you up with ease and toss you overboard, a wave of laughter and cheers erupting from them.

“[Name]!” Sarah shouts from the girls hold and Rafe widens his eyes as he whirls around at the sound of your scream and a splash from the impact.

“Shit-“ Rafe curses as he roughly shoves Kelce into Topper as he rips off his shirt before taking a leap off the deck and into the water with you.

You flail, panic surging into you as you begin to hyperventilate. “S-Sa-Sarah—!”

“What the hell?!” Kelce scoffs with furrowed brows while Sarah feels tears brimming her eyes. “[Name] can’t swim!” she cries out as she rips away from the girls and shoves two of the guys out of her way before leaning over the railing. “[Name]!”

Topper’s, Kelce’s and the other kooks’ eyes widen in shock at the revelation. “What?”

They all rush over the rail to peer into the ocean as Rafe is diving under to find you.

Rafe manages to find your sinking body, grabbing you by the waist and pulling you up to the surface, your body already unconscious due to the lack of air and your panic flailing.

“[Name], [Name], are you okay?” He gasps as he reaches the surface and uses a hand to caress your cheek while the other props you up under your back. “No, no, come on, [Name], wake up.”

Sarah rushes around down the boat and on the boardwalk and leans down. “Rafe, Rafe! Come on, bring her over here!”

Rafe clenches his jaw when you still don’t respond and swims his way over towards Sarah as quickly as he can, panting before lifting your body up, Sarah doing her best to help you onto the wooden docks, laying you flat on your back.

“[Name], please! please wake up!” Sarah cries as she jostles you, Rafe climbing onto the dock next to her and looking down at you. She begins doing chest compressions, tears streaming down her cheeks faster. By this time, everyone on the boat is out on the boardwalk surrounding you body on the ground.

Rafe stands up straight, his clothes soaking and dripping but he doesn’t pay it any mind as he tries to catch his breath, staring down at his sister trying to wake you.

He contemplated for just a minuscule of a second, about beating the shit out of Kelce, but he prioritized your wellbeing first.

“Rafe- she’s not waking up.”

Sarah inhales sharply, trying not to think the worst and her older brother kneels down, pinching your nose closed before bringing his lips down to yours.

The kooks are whispering amongst each other, surprised by Rafe’s sudden leadership actions.

Rafe pulls away, continuing Sarah’s chest compressions before going back to pressing his lips against yours, providing CPR.

Please, not like this. wake up, wake up for me, [Name].

Suddenly a choked noise erupts from your lips as you turn to your side and spew out bits of water. Your throat becomes sore as you cough roughly.

Sarah immediately breaks into a smile, a gasp of relief coming from her and Rafe pulls back, a sigh coming from him. “H-Hey, take it easy, you’re alright..”

You look around, feeling dizzy and nauseous as you spit up the last of the water you nearly drowned in, as Sarah pulls you to her chest, engulfing you in a tight hug. “[Name], i’m so glad you’re okay!”

Meanwhile, Rafe stands upright, looking up at the sky, trying to relax his rapidly beating heart, as he takes slow steps to turn around.

“H-Hey, look, I didn’t know-“

Kelce, already knowing what was coming, raises his hands in defense as he backs up.

However, Rafe doesn’t hesitate his fist swinging into Kelce’s cheek, succeeding in knocking him down. “You son of a bitch!”

Rafe clenches his jaw tight as he looks to the other kooks. “Party is fucking over, get the fuck away!”

Topper tries to talk some sense into Rafe but Rafe shoves him. “You hear me? I said get away! go fucking home, now!”

Everyone is stunned into silence as they share looks, before quickly scrambling away and off the dock, not wanting to argue with the Kook King.

Sarah sniffles as she pulls away and looks up at Rafe, who kneels down and tucks an arm under your legs and the other under your back, before lifting you up carefully, bridal style.

“R-Rafe?…” Your hoarse voice calls out, hands pressed to his firm chest but Rafe hushes you. “Shh.. it’s alright, just get some rest.. you’ll be fine.”

Sarah watches her brother carry you towards his truck, wiping her tears as she follows after them, exhaling gently.

Tears brim your eyes as your chest swells with warmth, despite your freezing body.

You stare up at Rafe weakly, feeling your chest grow weak as your eyes flutter close and you press your head into his chest more. “Thank you.. Rafe.. You saved me..”

Rafe’s hold on you tightens, securing you in his arms.

“..I’m so glad you’re okay… i’m so sorry..”

a/n: welp, this could’ve been sooo much better but i rushed this at work hehe. outerbanks is playing on the tv at work so i thought id get a little smth out :3 this is sooo bad though 😭

not proofread or edited. i’ll go back and edit some other time.

synvil™️.

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aether-bun · 1 year ago

Note

Dating headcanons for dead plate Vince and rody??? (Seperate)

DEAD PLATE BOYFRIENDS!!

Ok. Ok. The chokehold these two have me in is something that needs to be studied actually. Utterly thrilled that I get to write for them. Thank you so much Anon.

CONTENT WARNINGS: Talks of aggression, NSFW if you squint

Reader is gender neutral ♡

VINCENT is subtly affectionate being your boyfriend.

I think it's obvious that Vincent is very cold, inside and out, even if it isn't intentional

Little does the outside world know, however, he's very affectionate with you!

Behind closed doors, he finds small ways to be in contact with you

Knees touching, pinkies grazing, shoulders bumping, the works

It's not that he's afraid or repulsed by full on affection, it's just more comfortable for him to act the way he does. It means he can recharge without being away from you, but without overwhelming himself

I think he's a very big fan of chaste kisses, or at least giving them. Whenever he receives such rushed notes of affection, he refuses to admit it, but it leaves him with a sense of yearning :(

Adores hand kisses holy shit

I like to hc that he has a little lemon tree somewhere that he takes care of with such enthusiasm it's wild

The one thing you can't touch in his apartment is that tree. Hard boundary.

When he comes upstairs after work, he's usually very tired

This means that you both tend to just quietly enjoy each other's presence until he falls asleep in bed

Some days he's REALLY tired.

One of the chefs fucked up a batch so badly that it pushed service back by an additional 40 minutes while he had someone run supplies

It cost him a lot. That chef was brutally torn into and promptly told to never come back. Very unprofessional, but no one would say much about it.

Very exhausting lesson in hiring better employees in Vince's eyes.

That night he just laid down on your thighs and ranted. He doesn't tend to talk much for too long out of personal preference but that night he couldn't shut himself up.

You just gently combed through his hair and listened

The sensations soothed him and he got over the anger fairly well

(now he lays on your thighs some nights just to score some extra nice attention)

Dates are always very lavish, it's his personal favourite thing to spoil you. He always has a hand on you during outings of any kind.

Will pull you closer if anyone stares at you.

Gentle with you, in every possible situation, but firm

He really just doesn't want anyone to hurt you, but on top of that, he couldn't bear the ache he'd feel to see you look at someone else the way you look at him

Slut for calling you "Mine". End of discussion.

RODY is hellbent on giving you the whole world.

Loves loves LOVES cuddles

You cannot get this man off of you he is so clingy

He wants what's best for you and more this man will break limbs for you

I will say you were probably originally going to be a rebound relationship

After Manon, he found you, but it had barely been a month and he was clearly desperate for love

He was honest about Manon and the recent breakup, and in turn, you were honest about your returned feelings for him, but you very firmly said he'd have to move on first

It took a long time. You waited.

When he did get better, you two hit it off! He cared for you and you looked out for him

Your dates are walks through the park, café breakfasts and movie nights

Rody is a big fan of kisses

He kisses you and you can feel his love pouring through them, he deepens the kisses like he's starved, even though you're more than affectionate with each other all the time

Service top or complete bottom. Not because he's dainty bc he definitely isn't. He just loves you so much he wants you to have everything. He lives to serve you at this point let's be so real

Learned how to budget for you!!!! Whoa!!!!!!!!

I think Rody dances with you all the time

Rain or shine, dawn or dusk, happy or sad, he finds it nice to dance with you

It calms him

He gives the BEST MASSAGES IDC

Butterfly kisses and nose kisses are this man's kryptonite. He will cry. He has before.

AUTHOR'S NOTE

Hey!!!! Sorry for the random hiatus, life killed me a little, but I'm back and raring to go! Dragon Anon, if you're reading this, I am working on your req but I'm making sure I actually know the DLC this time so it's taking a while to get through the content. Bear with me!!!

Sorry if these were a little sloppy, getting back into writing is a lil difficult but I'm working as best I can. I hope you enjoyed, and remember to leave your requests in my inbox!

Ciao for now~

#x reader #dead plate rody #dead plate #vincent dead plate #rody x reader #vincent x reader #aether.writes #gender neutral reader #gn reader

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starlitiris · 4 months ago

Note

Hi, I wanted to say I adore your writing!! You don't have to do this request if you don't want to, but I'd love to hear your headcannons for how the troupe (or specifically Uvo, Pakunoda, and Shalnark) react to an s/o that likes to give them love bites♡ (Not sexually, just affectionate biting!)

I sincerely apologize for being months late to this holy shit, I had a lot of shit going on right after i got this ask and i was just tired and OUGH but here it is

I hope my goofy ass writing makes up for the wait </3 and I hope I didn’t make them too out of character 😭 been a minute since I wrote for hxh

And ty for enjoying my writing i’m very glad that you do!!!

If anyone wants me to do this for other hxh characters, phantom troupe or otherwise, LMK!!! I’d love to give that a shot >:)

Love Bites! (Phantom Troupe Headcanons)

Shalnark

- I can imagine you and Shal are cuddling on the couch in the home you share

- He has an arm around you, holding you close while he scrolls through whatever on his phone

- You don’t know what he’s looking at. Nor do you care. You want attention.

- You gently grab the hand that’s on you and CHOMP

- Well. It’s not really a CHOMP. It’s just a little nibble.

- “Huh?-“ He looks at you.

- He looks befuddled.

- But then he smiles!

- Intrigued and amused, he asks: “What are you doing?”

- “You’re not paying attention to me, so I’m making you,” you tell him with a devious little smirk

- “Oh, really?” The amusement in his expression morphs into something much more mischievous.

- “Uh huh,” you say before biting his fingers again, a little harder this time

- “Hey!” He shouts through a giggle

- He grabs one of your hands and bites YOU. Not any harder than you bit him, though. He wouldn’t wanna hurt his beloved <3

- You squeal and try to pull your hand away, but he doesn’t let you.

- He keeps nipping at you while you giggle and screech at him to stop

- Eventually he tackles onto your back on the couch

- He squishes your sides attacks your shoulder, neck and ear with playful nibbles

- “SHAL!” You laugh. “S-STOP IT!!”

- “What? I’m giving you attention now, isn’t this what you wanted?” He retorts before resuming his attack

- I’m sorry, Reader. You lost this battle.

Pakunoda

- Arghh your girlfriend/fiancée/wife is so pretty

- You adore her so much. Sooo so much that you cannot put it into words

- You can put it into actions, though!

- With the utmost love and care, you lift her hand to your face, kiss the back of her hand, and very very gently nibble on her dainty wrist.

- She makes a small noise indicating she was caught off guard, and she looks at you with a look of befuddlement

- “What on earth are you doing?” She asks

- You remove her wrist from your teeth and look up at her with a sweet lil smile. “Biting you.”

- “Why?” She raises an eyebrow at you.

- “Because I love you.”

- She stares

- And blinks

- Then smiles, emitting a chuckle

- “You are strange,” she tells you.

- “Does this bother you?” You ask, not wanting her to be uncomfortable.

- “Not at all, my love.”

- You grin and gently nibble at her wrist again.

- Strange as you may be, she finds you adorable.

- This will become a common occurrence.

Uvogin

- You and Uvo are having a picnic date!! Cute!!

- Right now you’re listening to him ramble on about a recent job he had

- He retells his favorite moments from the adventure enthusiastically

- You love watching him get enthusiastic and passionate about things. Even if it is, uh… theft and murder sometimes. But you find it charming!

- “-Anyway, you should’ve been there. It was the most fun I had on a job in a while!” He finishes his story and takes a big ol’ bite from his sandwich.

- An idea strikes you. Muhaha

- “Hey Uvo, gimme your hand,” you tell him, reaching out your own two hands to hold his massive one

- “Huh? Why?”

- “Just gimme. Give.”

- He gives you a questioning look before complying and giving his hand to you.

- You grab it, pull it closer to you and chomp one of his fingies

- You don’t bother with being gentle. The man has iron skin, you could probably bite him as hard as possible and it would barely tickle

- Uvogin snorts. “What the hell are you doing?”

- You let go. “What’s it look like?”

- “Why are you biting me?” He grins, finding your goofy ass to be very cute and charming as always.

- “Cause I wanna!” You bite him again.

- “Fuckin’ weirdo.” He lets you gnaw away at his hand and continues eating his sandwich.

- He snickers when you literally say “grr” as you’re biting him.

- He loves you. He loves you and all your quirks.

Sorry if this was too short but i hope you enjoyed nonetheless 🕺

#hxh headcanons #shalnark x reader #uvogin x reader #uvogin x y/n #shalnark x y/n #pakunoda x reader #pakunoda x y/n #phantom troupe x y/n #phantom troupe x reader

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brokenmenswhore · 7 months ago

Text

betrothals & brothels | aegon, aemond, & jace

part 4

pairings: aegon targaryen x stark fem!reader, aemond targaryen x stark fem!reader, jacaerys velaryon x stark fem!reader

series summary: aemond targaryen tells the realm that you, the lady of house stark, are to wed him and secure a partnership in the north. in protest, you agree to marry jacaerys velaryon, affirming the north’s allegiance to rhaenyra. when the news hits king’s landing, aegon decides it’s better to have you under his watchful eye until the political partnership is solidified, but doesn’t realize you have a life away from your duty as a stark

chapter warnings: smut!! (MDNI 18+), slapping (non-sexual, brief)

a/n: alright y’all, i think i’m gonna make this thing 6 parts? i’m really shit at writing ongoing fics because i never know how to wrap ‘em up but i storyboarded it i’m thinking we’re halfway through riiiight NOW

series masterlist

────── ☾ ──────

“Seven hells, are you alright?” the Madam asked, “you look like hell.”

You scanned the room, only calming down when you were sure there were no recognizable faces, specifically Targaryens, in the vicinity.

“I was just locked in a dungeon cell, thank you for asking,” you responded, making it clear that your annoyance was at your predicament, not at her.

“A dungeon?”

“His Grace does not favor my sharp tongue.”

The Madam’s eyes widened. “My Lady, do you mean to tell me you are in trouble with His Grace King Aegon?”

You mentally cursed. You wholly forgot that this woman had no idea of your reasoning for being in King’s Landing, having left any unnecessary piece of information out of your employment deal.

She saw your frustration, and decided not to pester the question further. “I suppose you would fancy something to calm the senses?”

You gave her a soft smile, accepting the cup the moment it was handed over to you. Taking one giant gulp of liquid courage, you said, “I need you to allow me to reside here for a while. I fear this may be the only place I’m safe.”

“I do feel obliged to tell you that I cannot guarantee His Grace never come here again. His brother, Prince Aemond, is a frequent visitor of this establishment. This may very well not be the safest place for you.”

You knew Aemond came here. You had followed him in here upon your first visitation. You also knew it couldn’t be too difficult to avoid him if you tried.

“Just a few nights, then,” you bargained, “until I find something more permanent.”

“Is the situation truly so urgent?” the Madam questioned in concern.

“May we speak in private?” you asked.

The Madam pulled you to a private room and closed the door. You explained the entirety of your situation, sure to leave in each and every gruesome detail that further proved how urgent this truly was. She listened in awe, unaware of all that had been happening in the Red Keep. She knew that Aemond, a frequent visitor of hers, had announced a betrothal, but Aemond had told her it was purely political, and to not ask any further questions on the matter. Therefore, the Madam never thought to ask who the proposal of marriage was intended for. The Stark name never raised any flags for the Madam, and she never thought anything of it.

The Madam agreed to let you rest in one of the typically unoccupied rooms toward the back of the brothel, in exchange for openness of your clientele. It still remained somewhat selective, the Madam not allowing anyone from the North near you, and of course, no Targaryen men.

You discarded the Targaryen gown the moment you were alone, happier with what was underneath. It was still quite a lot, covering most of your body, but its appearance did not strike one as wealthy.

✶

Any affection Aemond was beginning to hold for you was swiftly removed from his heart the moment he saw your cell unoccupied and the door swung open. He enjoyed a challenge, but even you were beginning to be too much for him. He was beginning to fancy you, and he was jealous of how you treated Jacaerys compared to how you treated him. He knew that, regardless of his emotions, you were the only person who made him feel like he met his match.

However, he was growing tired of the games. If you truly detested him so much, what was the point of all his efforts? He suspected why you asked him for access to the brothels; he had heard the rumors about you at night in the North. Was he truly ready to set his pride aside and marry a whore, even with a title?

He decided that while you may be his betrothed, you were no longer his responsibility. If you fought against this match, there was no point in him fighting for it. He was not even sure he truly wanted it anymore. The family certainly outgrew the need for it; the moment Aemond accepted that you truly had found a way out of your cell, he knew another northern alliance may be necessary. Houses Bolton, Mormont, and Glover had bent the knee to Aegon after a mere show of force from Aemond atop Vhagar. While none were quite as large or as powerful as House Stark, they would do well as northern allies.

Aemond chose to remain calm and collected and do his best to forget you and your attitude ever existed. Aegon, however, coped in other ways.

Aegon liked your quick wit. Though all you did was bicker, Aegon couldn’t help but remember his moment of vulnerability with you. You could have walked away, but you comforted him, despite being so adamant about hating him. He was mean to you because you were mean to him and it hurt his feelings, not because he truly did loathe you, despite what he had told you the very last time you two had spoken.

You were defensive, confident, outspoken- all the things Aegon truly wished in the depths of his heart that he could be, but knew deep down he wasn’t. Aegon desperately wanted to appear as confident and cocky, the smartest in the room, but most could see through the facade, including you. He hated how vulnerable you could make him feel. He loved how it felt when you saw that vulnerability, and chose kindness instead of cruelty. You were everything he wanted to be. You were everything he wanted.

Aegon was fueled by rage immediately after learning of your escape. He sent the King’s Guard through the streets of King’s Landing in search of you. He slammed his fists on tables and bellowed toward his brother, demanding to know where Aemond had taken you when he let you free, but Aemond would not confess, lest he leak his own private details.

The men of the King’s Guard were only employed as such due to their friendship with Aegon, and many had not actually seen you, and admittedly were not sure what you looked like.

Aegon, furious and drunk, had also made the mistake of describing you in the clothes they had provided at the time of your imprisonment, the thought that you may have taken the gown off never crossing his mind.

The men of the Guard had asked around a few brothels, but most became distracted and threw away their task in favor of a pretty girl. You were not nervous when you heard the clanging of armor, for you knew that most of these men couldn’t identity you with a name tag.

The King’s Guard was forced, after two days of searching the streets, to report to Aegon that they had no sign of you whatsoever. Aegon considered that you may have taken passage on a ship to Essos, perhaps somewhere further, but doubted that you would so easily forget Winterfell. He thought of flying there, but knew you had no way to get back home. He also thought you had no way of escaping the dungeons, and he had a consistent habit of underestimating you.

It had been nearly a full moon since Aegon and Aemond last saw you. Aemond refused to revoke your betrothal due to his own pride, at least until he could find a suitable alternative.

Aegon thought of you often, but tried to keep the thoughts at bay. He fought to not let it impact how he ruled, but his friends in the King’s Guard most certainly noticed the change in his demeanor.

They convinced him that he needed a proper night out, him and his best mates drowning in cups and whores, leaving their daily lives behind and choosing pleasure over pain for a night. Aegon agreed, knowing he truly needed to blow off steam.

His friends directed him through three brothels before landing on one, one of the men nearly deafening the room from the sound of his armor as he raised his arms and yelled for libations.

A woman brought a round for the men, taking a bow when she noticed The King. Aegon downed the drink with one swallow, slamming the cup down on the table as he said, “alright, let’s find someone.”

The men cheered, throwing their arms around Aegon’s shoulders as they directed him from room to room.

Aegon himself pushed back a curtain and stopped short, the shock of the sight rendering him unable to move.

You were standing tall, nearly naked, a man with curly brown hair knelt on the floor in front of you, his head between your legs and your hands in his hair.

You were used to people interrupting for a moment, in desperate search of an unoccupied room, so you didn’t even turn toward the sound. The man between your legs, however, pulled back and, upon seeing Aegon, knelt fully over on the floor, his hands out in front of him in a deep yoga-like bow.

You watched him in confusion before turning your head to see who he was pointed toward.

You were panting, skin slightly glistening from sweat, a tiny hint of shock that Aegon had never seen before in your eye.

Neither of you moved. Neither of you spoke. You just stood and stared at one another as the rest of the men in the vicinity noticed the tension and hastily cleared out.

Once you two were alone, you insisted on speaking first. “Your Grace,” you mimicked a curtsy, sarcasm coating your words.

Aegon took a deep breath, trying his hardest to collect himself. He was feeling a mixture of emotions: shock at the sight of you still in King’s Landing after nearly a full moon’s cycle, anger at you for escaping and running away, confusion at what you were doing fucking in a pleasure house, and most prominently, he was turned on at the sight of you.

“You’re still in King’s Landing,” was the best he could come up with.

“I’ve been trying to make arrangements back to Winterfell,” you said, picking up your small clothes from the floor and covering yourself as you spoke, “but unfortunately, the easiest route is via dragon, yet only a select few here have dragons, and I didn’t wish for them to know my whereabouts.”

“And now that they do?”

You sighed, finishing clothing your body with your small clothes and a robe as you stood tall once again. “I should hope I can count on their discretion.”

Aegon snickered, “and what makes you think you can? Did you forget what you did?”

“I only had to escape because you imprisoned me. Did you forget that?”

Silence filled the room. Aegon felt a bit bad for imprisoning you, and wasn’t sure where the conversation was headed. He instead changed the subject to what truly peaked his curiosity.

“What are you doing here?” he questioned.

You could lie. You could tell him anything that made even an inkling of sense, but you were living room-by-room in a brothel, no surefire way to get home, two men vying for your hand and only one honest, and you, quite honestly, had nothing to lose.

“I work here,” you shrugged as if the confession meant nothing.

Aegon laughed genuinely. He continued to laugh until he caught your gaze and noticed your features were stoic. “You’re not serious?”

“I know you’ve heard the whispers about me, Aegon, you cannot truly be so shocked.”

“You were going to wed my brother without your maidenhood? Was your plan to play pretend as if it hurt?”

“If you recall, I never had any intention of marrying your brother,” you retorted.

“Is this where he took you?” Aegon pressed further, the questions falling off his tongue the moment they popped into his head, his brain seemingly not able to keep up with the pacing of new questions appearing in his thoughts.

“The details of any time I spent with Aemond are none of your business.”

“They are, aren’t they?” he continued, finally taking a few steps closer to you, “did he take you here to fuck you? Did he want to ensure you could never truly belong to our little nephew?”

“No,” you scoffed. You did not owe him details. “He does not have my maidenhood, nor has he ever had me. I would hope you think higher of me.”

“You think you’re so strong, but I see right through you,” Aegon began, as close to you as he could be without physically touching you, “you and Aemond came here to fuck, and when you ran away, you came back here because it’s the only place you knew of. You were desperate for passage to Winterfell, and you needed coin to afford such a journey, hence the employment here.”

Aegon was confident in his accusation, which is what made it hilarious enough for you to audibly laugh.

“I truly wish you understood how ridiculously incorrect you are,” you said through laughs, your hand coming up to cover your mouth to hopefully mute the sound and cure Aegon of some of his embarrassment.

“Don’t laugh at me,” he spoke.

“You think I fucked your brother?” you continued, your laughter growing at the thought.

“Stop laughing at me,” he said again.

“You are so far off,” you could barely catch your breath, you were nearly leaning over from the intensity of the laugh in your stomach.

“I said don’t laugh at me!” he raised his voice, a hand coming to strike your face.

You immediately stopped, standing up straight in disbelief as your hand instinctively held the side of your face. He had hit you. All bets were off now. You did not care about striking a royal if he struck you first.

You moved to hit him back, but he quickly caught your wrists, anticipating the action. You were caught off guard, unaware he could move so swiftly. He swung your body around, slamming your back against the nearest wall, your wrists in his hands as they pressed against your chest.

You stared at each other in a moment of heat before he crashed his lips to yours. Your body took over your mind as you kissed him back, relishing in the feeling of his body pressed against yours.

All of the arguing, crying, shouting, and vitriol between the two of you had crescendoed up to this very release.

Aegon dropped your wrists and instead found your waist, grabbing the flesh there to pull you even closer to him as your hands found their way to the back of his head, fingers intertwining in his hair. He groaned into the kiss at the feeling, prompting you to pull even harder. Neither of you were gentle people, and now was not the time to try to be.

Aegon pulled one of your legs up to his waist, allowing you to feel his clothed hardness against your core. Aegon used his other hand to, with immense difficulty, untie your robe as he continued to kiss you with a fiery passion.

He only pulled his mouth away from you to push your robe open, allowing him to see your body, covered only by your small clothes. He breathed heavily, head down, gazing at you for longer than you would have guessed before he returned his lips to your neck, sucking a sweet spot just below your earlobe. You whined in response, and the sound drove Aegon mad.

Aegon moved the hand unoccupied with holding your leg up down to your core, rubbing over your small clothes. There was an evident wet spot that brutally reminded Aegon that there had been another man in between your legs just minutes ago. It also didn’t escape his thoughts that the man had longer, darker, curly hair and prominent features, much like Jacaerys.

Consumed in his thoughts, he pulled away from you, and you could tell something was wrong as he felt the wetness.

“Uh uh,” you snapped him out of his thoughts, “that wasn’t there before.”

Aegon nodded in understanding, grateful that you automatically knew what was bothering him, and slightly intimidated by that fact.

Aegon toyed with the waistband of your small clothes before dipping his fingers beneath them, eliciting a small whimper from your lips as he went back to sucking on your neck.

Aegon ran a finger between your folds, collecting the wetness there before slowly inserting a finger into your hole. Despite the ferocity of the situation, Aegon refused to miss an opportunity to hear the sounds you made when he moved excruciatingly slow.

Above all else, Aegon had an irrevocable desire to be needed and wanted. He loved to make his whores beg, even if it wasn’t genuine, because he could convince himself he was needed to satisfy them. He desperately wanted to see you vulnerable and begging, but you were too headstrong. He knew hearing any version of ‘please’ come from your lips would be damn near impossible. Damn near was good enough for him to try.

He watched your face contort as he pushed his finger in and out, curling when he hit a particularly sweet spot in your walls. You were whiny and breathy, head back against the wall, but that wasn’t enough for Aegon. He added another finger, the ring that adorned it leaving a cold sensation with each pump.

He kept his head on your shoulder, but was no longer kissing you, instead opting to rest his cheek there, gazing up at you as he watched what he was doing to you.

When he hit that special spot, your eyebrows creased, and he continued hitting that very spot so long as your face gave away how good it felt.

“Fuck,” you breathed out, your face beginning to turn a slight hint of red from the heat of it all.

“Not so tough now, are you?” he whispered in your ear.

You choked through strangled moans, “I’m still in control of myself,” and you meant it. If you truly wanted this to stop, or if you truly wanted to be more dominant, you knew you could.

“Doesn’t seem as such,” he replied, fucking you even faster with his fingers and giving himself a small, prideful smile.

He was moving in and out fast now, sounds of your wetness filling the empty space as you braved yourself against his shoulders. You were becoming lost in the pleasure, but you were too stubborn not to have the last word. “You think- fuck- you think I’m not?”

You pulled his hand away from you. It was mostly because you didn’t want to come quite yet, but you were happy to let him believe it was entirely for a show of power. Aegon was surprised, having felt your walls begin to squeeze his fingers just moments before.

You took his moment of surprise as an opportunity to grab his wrist and lead him over to the bed, pushing on his shoulders until he fell backward, the backs of his legs hitting the bed frame and dangling off the bed as he laid.

You considered pleasuring him briefly, and you could see he was hard beneath his breeches as he looked at you expectantly.

You untied and tugged at his breeches, pulling them down until he was only in his small clothes. You then knelt down in between his legs as he propped himself up on his elbows to watch you pull his small clothes down, place a teasing kiss on his inner thigh, and then stand up as if you had no intention of touching his most needy area.

Aegon stared at you, evidently disappointed at the loss of contact.

“Uh uh uh, you haven’t earned that. You don’t deserve it,” you spoke in reference to giving him the oral pleasure he expected.

Aegon tried to snap back at you in protest, but you caught his lips with your own, climbing atop him and straddling his hips. The friction of your clothed heat on his bare length was driving him crazy. He leaned forward to deepen the kiss, gripping your hips as he began to grind up against you, desperate for some kind of contact. He whined into the kiss as he did so, and despite your better judgement, you let him use your body for the moment.

When you had enough of him getting what he wanted, you pushed his shoulders until he was pressed back against the mattress again.

You took his cock in your hand, giving it a few strokes before you moved your small clothes to the side, beginning to sink down on his length.

He threw his head back in pleasure, but looked back up at you when you pulled away from him. You maintained eye contact as you began to sink down again, and Aegon took the hint, locking eyes with you as you allowed him to bottom out inside of you.

You sat atop of him for all too long without moving.

“You gonna move?” he asked, desperate.

“Not unless you ask me to.”

Both you and Aegon were in a power play now. It was turning you on even more.

“Should be the other way around,” he breathed out, erratic and heavy.

“I could sit here all day.”

Aegon would never admit it, but he enjoyed it when he didn’t have to be in control, and he was only more excited by your dominance.

He sat upwards, his cock shifting within you as his face became level with your breasts. He used one hand to free one of your breasts from the confines of your small clothes, running a finger across your nipple before encapsulating it in his mouth.

The heighten mood calmed, the act of Aegon’s mouth on your breasts causing the fiery lust to shift to pure intimacy.

Aegon sucked at one breast while the hand that wasn’t holding on to your back moved to fondle the other breast. His tongue swiped over your nipple in between sucks, his eyes closing as he lost himself in you. He swiftly removed your remaining small clothes over your head before returning to his previous position, praising your chest with his hands and mouth.

He only pulled away when you tugged at his top, the removal leaving you both fully naked in front of one another.

You moved a hand to the back of his head, gently stroking the hair there as he sucked. His eyes fluttered open and he looked up at you, never detaching from you, lightly moaning into your breast as you made eye contact.

You threw your head back and whimpered, your sighs driving Aegon crazy. Your position was so intimate, his cock inside of you as he sucked your breasts, and watching your pleasure from his mouth on your nipple was nearly enough to make Aegon come.

Aegon tested the waters of your movement, moving his hands to grip your hips and push you upward, prompting you to move slightly.

You allowed his efforts to work, very gently grinding your hips against him and pushing yourself up enough to feel pleasure, but not enough to move your breasts too far away from Aegon’s face.

He noticed, and he didn’t like it. He detached from your nipple, his chin resting on your chest right between your breasts. “Don’t hold back,” he demanded.

“I don’t take orders from you.”

You smiled so that he knew you were still playing with him, not genuinely mad. You figured he would continue this back and forth game, but instead, his vulnerability showed through. “Please.”

He was looking up at you through hooded eyes as your hips moved back and forth against him, his gaze glassy and desperate. He was prepared to beg.

“Please what?” you asked, teasing him further.

“Please don’t hold back. Please, I need you to not hold back. I need you.”

His pleading was enough for you. You began to lift your hips higher, your knees bending with each drop of your hips. Aegon reattached his lips to your breasts, challenging himself to hold on with his mouth as they began to bounce.

Aegon couldn’t help himself, he started to thrust up into you as much as he could in his upright position. It wasn’t much, but with the combination of you riding him, the movement was enough to make you sweat.

You held Aegon’s head against your breasts, your fingers intertwining themselves through the strands of his hair, lightly pulling when he gave a small bite to the flesh of your breasts.

He looked up at you and smiled. You thought the moment would be brief, but instead of immediately continuing his demonstrations, he kept watching you as you rode him.

You knew what he wanted. He wanted to see what he was doing to you, he wanted to be the reason for your pleasure- he wanted to feel needed. It’s why he was moving so slowly with his thrusts: you knew he wanted you to ask for more.

You leaned down and kissed Aegon, the kiss more intimate and personal than previously. You pushed him slightly as you leaned forward, allowing him to lay down as you lay on top of him, the position making it much easier for him to rock upward into you.

Instead, he stopped moving.

You flattened your palms against the bed on either side of Aegon’s head. “Give up already?” you teased.

“I’m not moving until you beg me.”

You scoffed. “I could just get up, Aegon.”

“Don’t,” he protested, still needy, “I wouldn’t believe you truly wanted to, if you did.”

“Aegon, move,” you said, needy yourself, soaking wet and much too ready to be fucked hard.

“Beg me.”

“Do you truly think me-“

“Beg me,” he said, his tone growing dark.

“You don’t scare me.”

Aegon fisted a hand in your hair, pulling your head backward as he placed a kiss on your neck, biting down hard on the skin. You hissed at the pain. “I said beg me.”

You decided to give in, but not quite how he anticipated. “Do that again,” you said.

Aegon bit down on your neck again, sucking on the now-bruised skin to soothe the pain right after. “That’s not enough.”

You sighed. “I don’t beg anyone for anything.”

Aegon’s hand harshly slapped your ass, jolting you upward in surprise, causing you to move on his cock. He grabbed your jaw in his hands, forcefully positioning your head so you were looking directly at him. “Fucking beg me.”

His tone was too much for you. You didn’t want to completely break your walls down, but it was too hot. You wanted him bad. You wanted to give in.

“I need you to fuck me Aegon,” you whined, “I want you to fuck me. Please.”

Aegon growled and kissed you hard, one hand moving to press down on the small of your back as he lifted and dropped his hips.

“F-fuck,” you moaned, the consistency of his strokes a brand new feeling, and so, so good.

Aegon kissed you to swallow your moans. You bit gently on his bottom lip, pulling slightly as you looked into his eyes, the feeling causing his eyes to blow out with lust.

He began to fuck you ruthlessly, moving in and out of you as fast as he possibly could, your back instinctively trying to straighten in an effort to brace yourself, but Aegon’s hand was pressing down too much on your back to keep you in place.

He grabbed both of your wrists, swiftly moving them behind your back as he held both with one hand, the other gripping the flesh of your ass to help move you against his sharp, vicious thrusts.

You could wriggle out of his grasp, or even purely strengthen yourself out of it, but you didn’t want to. It all felt too good, and you relished in the feeling of men taking control of you in bed. It was rare the men earned it, and right now, it felt right.

Your body was rocking back and forth against Aegon, and you were no longer able to control any way that your body was moving. You were completely at Aegon’s discretion. You contemplated if it was smart to trust him with your body, but you could tell he needed your body just as much as you needed his.

His hips were snapping against yours at a violent rate, his grip on your ass almost certainly preparing to leave a bruise.

“A- Aeg-“ you started, the words losing themselves on your tongue.

“Fuck, yes, say my name,” he begged.

“Ae- Aegon!” you cried out, nearly squealing.

“Sounds so good when you say it,” he spoke through erratic, hectic breaths, his forehead glistening with sweat as he used you to get himself off, fucking his cock in and out of you as fast as he could.

“Shit, Aegon, I- I can’t-“

Aegon threw his head back, the mere idea of you nearly coming causing his cock to twitch. He couldn’t wait to know how good your walls squeezing against him would feel.

He kept his head back against the bed, using the pressure to anchor himself as he tried to move faster and faster, if it was even possible.

You took the opportunity to kiss his neck, sucking a sweet spot just below his earlobe.

“Fuck,” he moaned, the intensity of the sex mixed with the intimacy of your kisses causing him to worry that he would come first if you didn’t come momentarily.

“Need- need you to come,” he begged, “wanna feel you first.”

“I’m gonna,” you responded, his neediness pushing you closer and closer to the edge as you squeezed his cock like a vice.

Your high crashed over you, your legs shaking from the intensity of your orgasm.

Aegon kept up his ruthless pace, chasing his own high. The feeling of your orgasm mixed with the feeling of your legs shaking around his hips was too much for him, his final few thrusts hard enough to bruise your skin as he shot his seed inside of you.

His cock twitched as his body relaxed against the bed.

You used all of your strength to sit up and move one leg upward, swinging yourself off of his lap and collapsing on your back next to him.

“Aegon, did you just- inside of-“

“We have remedies, don’t worry. I’m sorry, you just felt too good.”

You both laid in silence for a moment, breathing and energy recovering from the ferocity of the sex as you both thought of what you had just done.

“I can’t return to the Red Keep,” you said, breaking the silence, your thoughts consuming you as you almost couldn’t help yourself but ruin the moment.

“I have no intention of forcing you to,” Aegon replied.

“You would allow yourself to take your leave as if you did not see me here today?” you clarified.

“I do not wish for Aemond to experience what I have just,” said Aegon, “if he knows of where you reside, he will continue to force your hand.“

“Was such a match not your idea?”

“It was,” he admitted, “but it is no longer necessary. I am acquainted with you now, and things are-“ his voice trailed off, and he was searching for the correct word, “different.”

“How so?”

Aegon turned to look at you, your eyes locked together momentarily before Aegon sat upward. “I must return,” was all he said before collecting his clothes and exiting the room.

────── ☾ ──────

tags: @torchbearerkyle @dracaryxzs @hangmanscoming @callsignwidow @velvetcrowbarcherry @kravitzwhore @darlingisntit @not-neverland06 @albionfay @cluz1babe @flusteredmoonn @sab-falco @ajanauia

#aegon targaryen #aegon ii targaryen #aegon targaryen smut #aegon x y/n #aegon targaryen x y/n #aegon targaryen fanfic #aegon targaryen imagines #aegon targaryen x reader #aegon x reader #house of the dragon

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bones4thecats · 1 year ago

Note

If its not to much to ask, could I request ror character's ( Poseidon, Hades, Thor and Hermes) with a blind reader.

Also have been following along for 2 months now and I have been loving everything you write 💛

Type of Writing: Request Characters: Poseidon, Hades, Thor, and Hermes Name: {Character} Handling Their Blind S/O Requester: Anonymous

A/N: Aw! Thank you for following me for two months, Anon! And thank you for the compliment, I've been writing since I was really young and had my massive 'gacha-faze'. I wrote a small story that I called 'Emotionless', typical gacha-kid shit, I know🤣

✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅

🔱 He was one of the first deities to actually be around you and not get annoyed

🔱 When Poseidon first met you, you were being guided by Proteus to his throne room because you were a new assistant that Hades had gotten to help work with connecting Poseidon to his brothers

🔱 At first the God of the Sea didn't hate you, but he didn't like you either, since you would occasionally bump into things

🔱 But, after a while, Poseidon began to sympathize for you, it wasn't your choice to be blind, after all!

🔱 Whenever you guys would go out, he would either have you grab his trident to make sure you stayed near him, or he'd hold your hand to keep you safe and nearby

🔱 Because you cannot see, sometimes you bump into him from behind, which prompted him to get some guards to be around you whenever he was busy with work

🔱 If you ever wanted to go out with someone, he keeps the same guards around you, it's not that he doesn't believe you can defend yourself, after all, you're in a relationship with the one described as emotionless and tyrannical-filled, but, he does it because he wants you to be completely safe, no matter what

🔱 It would hurt him far to much to know he could've done something to keep you safe

💀 He met you on similar lines as Poseidon did

💀 Work was piling up, and he needed to get an assistant, so he had gotten you, who was recommended by Hermes, to help him out with the paper work

💀 You were an amazing helper, and while you helped him with paper work, his heart began to ache for you beyond anything he ever felt before

💀 Hades would smile and chuckle whenever you accidentally ran into something by accident

💀 He loves looking into your smooth and milky white eyes, it reminded him of looking into the sight of the moon at midnight throughout his childhood

💀 This Olympic brother smiles everytime you grab his hand to make sure you didn't run into anyone when attending a meeting or large gathering for either the Greek Pantheon or a combination of all different pantheons

💀 When attending meetings with his brothers or a Gods' Council meeting, he would have you either rest of his lap or sit right next to him, making sure you didn't accidentally move and get lost

💀 It happened once, and that was how you met Shiva's wives, Parvati, Kali, and Durga

🌩️ Thor was used to being around people with different issues, since his father was half-blind

🌩️ When he met you, he had to protect you from Loki's taunting, since he could tell you were blind and had no idea what was going on

🌩️ And Thor cannot stand people being taunted without any form of defense, he finds it pathetic for the antagonist to prey on someone without any form of backlash ability

🌩️ He does not find you weaker because of your blindness at all, but he does enjoy it when you use your words against Loki

🌩️ Hearing him taunt you and then shut up once you mention how his voice reminds you of a dying cat being thrown against a barrel of rocks? Oh yeah, that is one of your keys in getting the God of Thunder to smile

🌩️ Thor always wants some kind of physical touch to make sure you were safe, since Mjölnir's handle was definitely far to large for your hands to hold tightly

🌩️ Whenever attending a meeting of any kind with him, Thor holds you close, making sure nobody, specifically Loki, took you away from his side

📨 You were being talked about non-stop by Aphrodite, due to your condition of being completely blind

📨 Hermes was no doubt interested, since you had survived so long without being completely annihilated by an angered God

📨 He was very much known for his patience, and that was something you both gave off when meeting for the first time

📨 Aphrodite took you to meet the Greek Pantheon during a meeting, and when you spoke to Hermes with a small smile, despite being tormented by not seeing his face, he smiled back with equal joy

📨 You had grown up with this condition, so your way of direction was decent, but when Aphrodite had to speak with the God of the Sun, Apollo, alone, Hermes stuck beside you so you didn't sun into a God that may get the wrong idea

📨 Zeus

📨 He and you definitely practice your sense of direction often, so, whenever he was sent out on a message-spree, he would occasionally take you with, so you got used to Valhalla

📨 But, whenever he couldn't, he'd give you to a fellow God, most likely being Hades, Aphrodite, Heracles, or even Apollo

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the-dumpster-fire-of-life · 2 years ago

Note

hey! I saw your writing for Miles earth 42. I was wondering if you could write what it would be like dating miles earth 42. Like some headcannons. Thank you!!

(hello! Sure I can and here ya go! Enjoy!)

Dating Earth 42 Miles Morales

I not gonna lie, he can be an ass at times

Especially when mad or annoyed or in arguments

Tries not to but is late or sometimes can't make it to daes and feels so bad

Tries to make it up to you the best he can

But other than that, he's probably the best boyfriend to have

Obviously before he was the prowler and before his canon event, he was just our Miles

After the canon, that changed but with you sometimes old peeks of that Miles bubbles up

He's protective

But in no way is possessive

You could do whatever you want and he would let you

Nobody is willing to mess with him or you because as you're doing your thing, he's nearby and watching you

If anyone looks at him and then to you, they can tell you're together

He's willing to fight if someone ever talks shit about you or makes you uncomfortable

Let's you braid his hair as long as you don't mess it up or pull on his hair too hard

He likes the feeling of sitting between your legs, his head like resting on your thigh as he just feels your hands making their way around his hair

It's a very comforting feeling and don't be surprised if he puts little pecks onto your thighs

Will not let you feel insecure, especially in like revealing or tight clothing because you just look so good

A sorta deep and sorta rough kisser at times, especially in the moment but in more soft and intimate times a slow and passionate kisser

Likes having his hands on your waist and sorta leaning you down as he kisses you, your arms around his neck and shit

Favorite place to kiss gotta be your neck and your jaw, he just has too

A hand always in your hip or on your back

Arm around your waist or around your shoulder

If you steal his clothes and he sees you for the first time in them he's gonna stare for a moment

Then just watch the smirk form as he comes up to you, kisses you and oh my Lord

Or he's hugging you from behind

Likes having his hands like roam your sides

Slips his hand onto your neck or weaves his hand into your hair, pulling you closer when you guys kiss

You can kiss him for an eternity and then some

Kissing you is like addicting to him

He always wants to make sure you're safe, and can handle yourself so he likes you to carry like a pocket knife or he taught you some shit

And if you get into fights he's obviously proud of you because you bet your ass you won

Makeouts are actually pretty common as he makes up kisses he missed

he either is hovering above you while you're on your back and kissing you

Or you're straddling him and kissing him, his lips slip down to your neck or your collar bone mind you

Or you're against a wall or he is against a wall

He likes flirting and making you flustered

He's an asshole with that shit

Calls you nicknames in Spanish or says stuff in Spanish, if you don't understand he does it even more

I feel after his dad he was more closed off, a wreck inside but wanted to be strong for his mom and you

You need to help with that and you di, you're practically his rock now who he goes to for anything, even when he doesn't want to talk

Just being around you helps him

He likes laying his head in your lap

It's just so nice and comforting to him, kiss his knuckles or play with his hands

"I love you, you know that, right?" Or "Don't worry, you got me." Is stuff he says on the daily

Hold his hand and run your hands over his knuckles and feel how relaxed he gets

He can hug you from behind, put his head on your shoulder and just stay there for god knows how long

He buys you a lot of shit to make up for what he cannot say as sometimes he can't say how much he loves and appreciates you

So he does stuff to show it

If you like cuddling he likes either having you by his side, arm wrapped around you with your head on his chest or him laying on your chest

Spoon him from behind, he loves it but will deny it entirely

Make him flustered, he'll be frozen for a minute before a real smile comes onto his face

On days where some shit is hard, either by being the Prowler he likes laying on top of you as you whisper shit into his ear

He needs stuff like that

If you got on with his mama he is not letting you go

Especially if his mom liked you because that shit is rare

Let's you steal his clothes on the daily

He sees you eyeing something when out with him, or he sees you about to buy something or have a new interest?

He's buying you it and buying you whatever you need

Go nuts, baby, he loves seeing the smile on your face

Play fights with you, likes pinning you down and just kissing you or tickling your side

He loves hearing your laugh and seeing your smile as they just calm him at the worse times

Likes sneaking away with you from anything possible

Little compliments mean so much from him, makes you feel good about yourself too

Arguments don't happen often but he doesn't yell at you when they do

He raises his voice but never yells at you

Some shit may slip, inconsiderate shit that makes him an asshole but he knows that immediately

Not the best at apologizing so give him time when he does come to apologize

Make him grovel ISTG

Nicknames from him are just so smooth and so- oh my god

Head on your boob and hand on your ass

I say no more

Will not let harm to you come no matter what as long as he breathes

He didn't plan on telling you he was the prowler for a long time

You had to find out yourself and he thought the relationship was over

He was saying over and over it was okay, he does it to protect his family and you, that he wouldn't hurt you and so on

You may need time but he understands

Always is sneaking in through your window also

If you have siblings and they meet him prepare because they now love him more than you

Babysits them with you and is now their partner in crime against you

He's so husband

#across the spider verse spoilers #across the spider verse x reader #spider man: across the spider verse #across the spiderverse #spiderverse x reader #into the spiderverse x reader #into the spider verse #earth 42 miles morales #miles morales x you #miles morales x y/n #miles morales #miles morales x reader #miles x reader #miles morales earth 42 x reader #earth 42 miles morales x reader

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holylulusworld · 9 months ago

Text

Gun for hire (2)

Summary: You’re his next target. Nothing else. Right?

Pairing: Lloyd Hansen x fem!Reader

Warnings: hiring a killer, Lloyd being Lloyd, being followed, sunshine reader, awestruck Lloyd, also annoyed Lloyd, character’s death, blood, safe-napping?

A/N: Another chapter this week.

Gun for hire (1)

Gun for hire masterlist

Lloyd watches you walk toward the other side of the counter to sit down and dig into your food. You chew slowly and close your eyes to savor the taste of the last food you’ll ever eat.

He pokes the pasta with his fork, brows knitted together as he tries to find out why he hasn’t killed you yet.

“How did you…” you begin but stop to eat another spoonful of pasta. “How did you become a hired killer?” You look at Lloyd. “I won’t tell anyone. After I’m done eating, you’ll kill me so…please tell me anything. This is the last conversation I’ll ever have.”

Lloyd drops the fork to look at the gun in his other hand. “I tried with the CIA, but that wasn’t my style. Before they do something you must write an essay or shit.”

You giggle when he makes a face. “So…you’re with the CIA?”

He sighs. “I just told you that I tried, and it wasn’t for me. I have my own business now, sunshine. No boss ordering me around. I’m the boss, and order people around.”

“Hmm…sounds interesting,” you nod thoughtfully before shoveling more food into your mouth. You chew slowly to think about your life, and what you want to achieve before you die. “Do you like it? Killing people for money?”

Lloyd looks at you, furrowing his brows. He never thought much about his profession. Lloyd loves money, and to be in charge. But does he like killing people?

He thinks about your question before a smirk appears on his face. “I like it very much, sunshine.” Lloyd steps closer to you to stand right next to you. “I love it when they beg, and whimper. Do you know how good it feels to end some douchebag's life?”

“Interesting,” you nod slowly. “Will you enjoy killing me too?” You look him in the eyes, stubbornly holding his gaze. “And if so, why? I never harmed you or tried to make your life harder. It was my boyfriend deciding to hire you.”

“Fuck’s sake, you’re annoying and too friendly. Why do you still smile at me while I stand right next to you, my gun unlocked?”

“I don’t know,” you shrug. “Why not? You only try to do your job. Even if I could never harm anyone, I guess someone must do your job too.”

“You’re unbelievable,” he snarls. “I’m about to kill you, woman! Did you realize that this is not a joke? Is your head empty or something?”

“I got that you are here to end my life,” you slip off the stool to place your hand on his chest, soothingly running it up and down. “The question is, are you ready to kill me? You look a little unsure.”

“What?” He hiccups. “I’m never unsure…what?”

“Is this your first time?” You look at him and smile softly. “Did you never kill an innocent woman before, Lloyd? Do you want me to make things easier for you?”

His chest heaves up and down, and he feels his patience wear thin. You are making him crazy, and Lloyd doesn’t know how to handle the situation.

Can he kill you? If he kills you, he will break one of his rules. Your ex-boyfriend didn’t pay him. Lloyd doesn’t have an assignment and no reason to kill you.

Maybe he can end you – if only to stop you from making him doubt his intentions when it comes to you. Now that you have seen his face, he has got another problem.

“My first time?” He grins now. “Cupcake, I killed people when you were still in your nappies. What I do cannot be taught.”

You giggle. For a guy with a gun, Lloyd is funny. “You’re not that old. And…didn’t the CIA train you?” You knit your brows together, thinking hard. “I think I saw a movie…or was it a show…”

“Sunshine, we are not in a movie,” he growls and pats his thigh with his gun. “What is going on in your head? Why are you not like…screaming and crying.”

“Do you want me to cry for you,” you ask. “Would this make you feel better, Lloyd?” You smile sweetly and pat his chest. “How can I make you calm?”

“What are you doing?” He murmurs while you keep on touching him. People usually shy away when you step into their private space. Mainly when you are a stranger.

If you want to survive this day, you must outsmart Lloyd. He’s not used to people being kind to him, especially when he tries to kill someone. You’re nice, and kind – not stupid. You don’t want to die and will try anything to stay alive.

“I don’t know,” you whisper as you stand on tiptoes. You’re about to distract Lloyd with a kiss when you hear the front door burst open, and bullets hit the wall outside the kitchen.

You shriek and end up on the ground, Lloyd on top of you. “Stay down, and hide behind the counter,” he grunts in your ear. “Go…”

Lloyd rolls off you to scramble to his feet. You admire him for his catlike agility. He slides over the floor to hide behind the wall next to the door while you struggle to get on your knees to crawl behind the counter.

You’re shaking as gunshots hit the kitchen door.

Pressing one hand over your mouth you try not to make a noise.

“Come out, come out!” A man yells. “If you come out, I won’t hurt you, Y/N.” Shit, he came for you, not Lloyd. “I know you are in there. Your lovely boyfriend sent me to keep you safe.”

“Not a word,” Lloyd whispers, as if you are stupid enough to believe the other man came to your rescue. “Shush, cupcake and you will survive the day.”

“Come out, little bird!” The man kicks the door open. It hits the wall with a loud thud, making you flinch. “I know you are here…”

You hear footsteps, and then a loud thud. The man screams in pain and agony. “What the fuck!” You poke your head around the counter to watch him fall to his knees. Blood is spurting from a wound on his side. He desperately tries to stop the blood from leaving his body, but it’s no use.

“No, sweet cheeks,” Lloyd taunts. “Lloyd fucking Hansen.” He kicks the man, laughing as you scream for the first time. “Oh, so you can scream.”

“Y-ou shot him,” you blink at Lloyd. “Why? He wanted to make your job easier.”

“My job,” Lloyd empathizes. “It was my job to kill you. That piece of shit of a boyfriend hired a loser like that to replace me.” He kicks the man again. “You cannot kill my prey!”

“Please stop!” you sniffle. “You don’t have to be cruel.”

“That piece of shit wanted to kill you and you want me to go easy on him?” Lloyd kicks the whining man again. It’s only a matter of time before he bleeds out. “We can do this the easy way, or the hard way. What will it be, pumpkin?”

“Easy—” the man wheezes. He clutches his side while staring at you. “He said it’s easy money. Go in. Make it look like an accident and go out. I didn’t know he hired you too…”

“Well, you just tried to steal my kill so…” Lloyd aims his gun at the man’s head. “You will tell me everything about your client and where I can find him. Make my job easier and I’ll let you go.”

“At his new girl’s home,” the man splutters. “He wanted us to meet up at the park close to her home at midnight after the job here is done.”

“Good boy,” you cover your mouth when Lloyd shoots the man in the head. He doesn't see his end coming and falls to the ground, a stunned expression on his face.

You stare at Lloyd and his gun, scrambling away because you know, he must kill you now too. Your heart races and you try to swallow the bad taste in your mouth.

“FUCK!” Lloyd stomps his foot. “Fuuuck!” He growls in your direction while you try to crawl around the counter.

Lloyd takes a few deep breaths. He tries to calm down and think about his next steps. While you press your back to the counter and close your eyes to count to ten, Lloyd secures his gun.

“Sunshine, get up,” he snaps his fingers. “Hurry, we don’t have all day.” You gasp when he suddenly stands in front of you. At least he tugs his gun away to hold out his hand for you. “We need to pack a few things. I don’t know how many incompetent idiots your boyfriend hired.”

You blink.

“Chop, chop sunshine. I need to get you out of here. I won’t let anyone steal my kill,” he grabs you by your arms and brings you to your feet. “Light package, sweet cheeks.”

He guides you out of the kitchen and upstairs, telling you to pack a few things.

Lloyd gives you twenty minutes before he drags you out of your house, two suitcases and one duffle bag in his arms. He mutters under his breath on his way toward his car. A pretentious black SUV.

“Get inside, shut your mouth, and don’t make me shoot you. I need to make a few calls on our way home.”

He throws your luggage into the trunk, still muttering as you slip inside the passenger seat.

You dare not breathe when he opens the door and claims the driver’s seat.

“We will talk about a few rules on our way…”

Part 3

Tags in reblog.

#lloyd hansen #lloyd hansen x reader #lloyd hansen x you #lloyd hansen x y/n #sunshine reader #x reader #the gray man #Gun for hire (2)

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theyanderespecialist · 8 months ago

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Abel's Baby Mama (Headcanons) Yandere Baby Daddy SCP-076/Abel X Pregnant Reader

[Hello, My Sexy Muffins! I am running late on writing this, so sorry if I am a bit rushed. Anyways let's do this! hope you enjoy this!]

(Disclaimer: Abel is most likely AROACE in canon and does not need or have the urge for or have a desire for Romantic or Sexual Relationships. But in this let's pretend the fighting machine can feel it kk? Anyway, he is not yandere in canon! This is just for fun and not to be taken seriously at all! Simping for fictional characters and yanderes is fine! Just do not be illegal or gross about it! Yanderes are not ideal partners to have in real life. Remember to separate fiction from reality and headcanon from canon! thank you!]

-Headcanons With Abel Aka SCP 076-2 X Pregnant Reader From the SCP Foundation Online Community-

.Abel had never wanted anyone in his life. That was until he met you.

.he wanted you and wanted you to be pregnant with his children.

.so he had been quick to impregnate you.

.You are the woman of his desires and he would easily want to have offspring with you.

.Which he will train them to be strong warriors.

He would be the type of yandere to be very protective over you while you are pregnant.

.He was raised being one of the first children of Adam and Eve. So he has some old-fashioned ways.

.Such as being the provider and the protector and that as the woman in his life, you needed to have the children and be his support.

.So he would want some of those traditional values.

.His WAY protective side is extreme! In which he does not like to have anyone near you.

.He also does not like you away from him so he would want to have you by his side at all times.

.He would end up doing his best to work with the foundation so he can get his containment cell upgraded and that he can have a nice little home for you, him, and both of your children.

.If anyone tries to get too close to you he gets very possessive and pulls you close to him glaring at the person.

.If the foundation tried to take you away from him he would go on a murdering spree until he can get to you and keep you safe and sound.

.He also only wants you and becomes very jealous and very serious.

.Who does not want to share you with anyone and he demands to be with you in all doctor appointments.

.If those doctors did anything wrong they would at least have a broken hand or worse case be dead.

.He would also do a shit ton of research on a healthy pregnancy as he knows that times have changed and he wants the best for his children.

.He does not mind if the babies are girls or boys, he will treat them the same and raise them to be warriors.

.Of course, he is going to be protective of them as well and not expect them to go into battle until they are adults.

.He is realistic with this.

.When you have morning sickness he is not grossed out about it, instead, he is helping you feel good and holding your hair back.

.He also would take care of you in any way shape or form.

.May it be cooking healthy meals for you, and massaging any aches you have.

.He unlocks a very caregiving side as he is obsessed and in love with you, and you have the amazing job of carrying future warriors.

.So he needs to be the man and to support you when you have the job to carry his kids.

.He paces a lot when you do have to leave without him.

.He cannot stand being away from you and would sometimes break out of containment to find you.

.He is still very murderous but being with you does mellow him out a bit.

.Which the foundation takes advantage of. If they can control Abel with his girlfriend aka baby mama aka you and his future kids then they will throw you to him and he will be able to keep you.

.Your fate is sealed once Abel knows you are pregnant, so maybe do not tell him that you are.

[YASSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS another chapter done! I hope that you all enjoyed this!

I will maybe do a scenario on my youtube ASMR reading of this! So check it out and stay sexy, all of my sexy muffins!]

#yandere #yandere abel #yandere scp 076 #yandere scp #yandere scp foundation #yandere headcanons #yandere storytelling #storytelling #headcanons #scp foundation #scp #scp 076 #scp abel #abel x pregnant reader #abel x reader #reader #pregnant reader #scp 076 x pregnant reader #scp 076 x reader

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necroflaww · 3 months ago

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Hi! Idk if you still write for him, but could I request an Otis Driftwood fic? With an adorrring reader who loves everything about him and cannot be turned off of him no matter what he shows her or what does to her or however he tries to scare her. He doesn’t have to tell her to enjoy it, to beg for it, to worship him, she just does. She’s even the one who started flirting with him at the bar or restaurant or wherever she worked at. Behind her shy demeanor she loves when he teases her, slaps her, ties her down, brings out his gun, degrades her, calls her his whore, carves his name into her, and he loves it too. A freaky match made it heaven (hell?)

Match Made In Hell (Otis x F!Reader) REQUESTED

⛧┊･┊ A/N: Sorry I've been away for awhile, just trying to catch a break between stuff and everything. I've been really mentally exhausted and I feel like soup. I am currently doing requests and getting back into art trades if anyone is interested! Also, here's a link to my strawpage to know more about me! This was a request! Hope you enjoy this ^^

⛧┊･┊ Warnings: Otis in general-, gun play, inappropriate use of gun, teasing, threatening, knife play, slapping, blood, cum play, biting, rough sex, being tied up, prone bone, degrading, smut with some plot? (just explanation of how they met).

"Did you ever learn how to shut the fuck up?" Otis snapped at you, it was often when he did this. Yelling at you. It sometimes did things, making the usual heat flood down to your core. That's how it's always been, Otis trying to scare you into submission, but it didn't take much work. As soon as you laid your eyes on him at the bar, you wanted to be his. Otis thought it would just be a one night stand, he couldn't resist how your breasts would rest up against the counter when you slid drinks over to him. You seemed so shy at first and Otis found out the true you later on when he had your legs spread wide open, his hand on your throat, and fucking into you until you were squealing like a pig.

Otis was a man, a man that didn't give a shit as long he had a tit in his mouth after a long ass day. Otis snaps his fingers in your face, bringing you back out of your dream state you were in. "Did you fuckin' hear me, whore? You just gonna keep yappin' until I gotta plug you up?" Otis pushed you into the seat at his desk, you didn't protest, you never did. "Sorry-" You started until Otis kicked your feet apart enough to flick up the little cotton sundress you wore. A small patch of arousal coated your panties, bringing a shameful blush to your cheeks. "Nasty whore, hm?"

Otis pulled the gun from his waistband, giving you a peak of the white, thick happy trail of hair that led to the thing you craved desperately at the moment. "Nasty cock sucking whore. That's what you are. Aren't ya'? Bet yer family would be ashamed to see their little daughter being a slut for a man she fucked at a bar." Otis grabbed a handful of your hair, pulling your head back before pressing the cold tip of his gun underneath your chin. "Say it, say you're a whore and maybe I won't blast your brains out." Otis's breath was hot against your ear, his gruff voice sending straight chills over your skin.

"I'm a whore. I'm your whore." You slipped out almost too eagerly, so desperate just for that thick cock to ruin your cunt again. Otis grinned, pleased, but he wasn't going to give the satisfaction of showing how pleased he was. You heard the familiar click of the safety being turned off, clenching your eyes shut. Your pressed your thighs together to get some sort of stimulation from the ache between you legs. You let out a small shuddering whine when you felt the gun slip down, your hands flying up to stop it.

"No, ma'am." It was darkness before your eyes shot open with a harsh slap to your face, feeling the warm sting and the salty tears burn in your eyes. Not crying from pain, just the shock of you suddenly being slapped and the sting of it. The redness of the slap already spread under your eye socket where Otis's knuckle caught the bone. "Keep your God damn fuckin' eyes open." Otis grinned, pulling his belt off and tying your hands together with it, forcing them behind your back.

"Atta girl...there's my mama, little slut for a little bit of paint, yeah?" Otis returned with the gun, the cold tip of it pressing against the skin right above your chest, slowly bringing the front of your dress down until you breasts popped out. The barrel of the gun teased under your breast. "I gotta admit you got a nice set of titties." Otis praised, for once. It was probably the only nice thing he's ever said to you.

The gun was quickly taken away, leaving your peaks to perk up in the cool air. You went to close your eyes again when you felt Otis' fingers pry between your thighs, slipping your panties to the side and running his thick middle fingers through your slit to collect the wetness there. Another harsh slap made you gasp, "Fuck, Otis-", you winced when you opened back up your eyes.

"Taste it, fucking slut." Otis grabbed your jaw, forcing your mouth open with a pop before his finger was shoved between your lips. The slight salty-sweet taste filled your mouth, a mix of your own flavor along with Otis's nasty hands. You almost bit down on his finger when the cold metal of the gun was now being rubbed between your folds. "Look at ya', gettin' all wet. Bet yer thinking about getting this cock in ya'?" Otis, without much warning, slid the tip of the gun into your wet cunt. The stretch of the gun made you moan out, it was almost pornographic to Otis, making his cock rise in his pants.

In a way, it hurt, the cold metal and the harsh ridges pumping in and out you roughly, making that coil in your stomach tighten with each movement. It was until you started to rut your hips against the gun like a desperate whore until it was pulled out. Otis laughed, looking at the way your arousal dripped from the gun. "God damn, mama." Otis could take much of it anymore. You were taking everything so well of screaming, the need to just bury himself inside you was getting to be too much for him.

Otis brought you up by your arms, throwing you onto the bed roughly. His room was nasty, the bed having old blood and jizz stains across the fabric. Otis mounted you, grabbing you by the back of your neck to keep your face in the mattress and forcing your hips up. The familiar unzip of his pants along with the rustle of fabric followed when his thick tip teased up between your slit.

"Otis- please...fuck me-" You let out in a whine, your hips curving up to press more into Otis's cock rubbing against you. The heat in your stomach was unbearable from the teasing, it probably wouldn't take long before you were crying out from an orgasm. "I know, mama. Just keep makin' them noises like a good whore." Otis pushed your thighs apart, his cock slipping into you and drilling straight into your gummy cervix, making you cry out. His hand slid around your throat, holding you in place as he fucked you with your tummy against the mattress.

Otis squeezed his hand around your throat, enough to keep you from talking but not enough to completely cut off your air. His hips ached with how hard he slammed into your cunt, sticky strings of your arousal connecting from his cock with each vulgar sounding thrust. You knew you were probably being loud enough for the others to hear, your head pressing back against his shoulder. Otis pressed his head against your shoulder, biting you roughly, enough to leave a mark on your shoulder. The familiar taste of coppery blood filled his mouth, causing his hips to fuck into your harder.

Tears were brimming your eyes, your ass burning and your back arching from the force of Otis's hips. "I can feel how close you are, you god damn bitch. Let it go, c'mon." Otis grunted against your neck. "God, Otis- Ah, fuck you-" You groaned out, your hips curving when the heated wave of your orgasm slammed in you, making your moans and mewls come out louder. Otis finally slowed down, looking at the dripping mess you made on his thighs and the mattress before he pulled out, pumping his cock quickly until he spilled on your back, warm cum dripping down your sides.

Otis dipped his fingers in it before smearing the cum over your lips and across your face. "Pretty slut. You're so fucking cock drunk." Otis kissed the side of your head roughly. "If you weren't so fuckin' dumb, I'd put a ring on that finger. For now-" Otis dug into the pockets of his pants that was around his thigh, pulling out his pocket knife. You grunted then cried out when you felt the sharp blade slicing your skin. You knew that motherfucker was doing it deep on purpose, so it'll scar. Hot blood dropped down your ass and the back of your thigh as Otis grinned at his grisly work.

"O.D, for motherfukin' Otis Driftwood. You're my pretty slut now." Otis slapped his hand over the fresh wound one more time, leaning to give your cheek a kiss.

#horror #fanfic #smut writing #slasher x you #house of 1000 corpses #otis driftwood #otis driftwood x reader #slashers x reader

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see-arcane · 2 years ago

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Cards with the Count

Thinking about how Jonathan is trying to pass the time during Vampire Hell Staycation with all the books in the library (a guaranteed Dracula Zone), no stationery (bastard), and a finite amount of secret pen ink and secret diary pages left at his disposal (shit). Reading and writing and art are all out. What’s left?

I like to think, in this order:

1) He remembers that he has a pack of playing cards in the general luggage Dracula didn’t snatch. A gift Lucy had bestowed on him and Mina, a pack apiece, as she insisted that it was the best way to pass an hour in dreary company that wasn’t to do with gossip or politics.

2) He doesn’t normally play, if only because he doesn’t have the coin to meet any real gambling stranger at a table. Just a ‘for fun’ thing.

3) Fuck it. Solitaire. Card towers. It’s something to keep his mind off the…everything.

4) He gets exactly one (1) day/evening of peace with this. Then:

5) “Whatever are you up to, my friend?”

(He didn’t even use the door to give Jonathan time to hide the pack. Misted in. No shadow to give him away. Fantastic.) Jonathan staples his smile back in place and rattles off something apologetic, so sorry, was he keeping the Count waiting? Let him just put this away, he wouldn’t be interested—

6) Smash cut to the library. The cards are now unofficially confiscated/a staple of the Dracula Zone, alongside the fancy crystal chessboard the Count loves to crush him with on a semi-regular basis. Jonathan is walking him through the rules of sundry card games. Unsurprisingly, he latches onto the concept of American poker readily. The game is a soup of similar European predecessors that light up his eyes with recognition—primero, poque, brelan—sewn together with England’s game of brag into a medley of the initial rules, both written and unwritten.

7) “A game of skill, then?”

“Skill, acting, and luck.”

Dracula grins as he produces a ransom of gold coins to use as chips. Jonathan deals.

(What are the extra rules here? Does he throw every hand? Does he play in earnest and inevitably lose anyway? Does it even matter? It isn’t chess, after all. Not a proper strategy game. Cards happen. Guesswork happens. A winner and loser every turn. What does it matter?)

8) Jonathan realizes two dozen hands later that what matters is, apparently, his face. One that, likewise apparently, cannot be read by the Count in this game. Out of those two dozen hands, Jonathan has won eighteen. Of those eighteen, his hand was the clear dud for nine. Through it all, Dracula’s eyes keep jumping from his own hand to Jonathan’s tired gaze. When Jonathan wins the twenty-fifth hand and the mountain of gold on his side of the table risks toppling off the edge, Dracula bites out a word Jonathan is sure is too caustic to have a spot in the lost polyglot dictionary.

9) “You have a gift for schooling your face, my friend.” Every word is an icicle; each as sharp as the canines jutting out of the rictus grin.

“I don’t,” Jonathan says.

And it’s true. Now he’s schooling his face—first lesson of anyone destined for the realm of serving others—but in the game, he’s barely thinking of anything else beyond the ticking of the clock. To punctuate this, he slides the heap of gold back to Dracula’s side of the table.

“This is only a game for the fun of it. In a game with stakes, there would be something worth playing and worrying for. When you get to England,” his face is very, very schooled as he says this, “you’ll find a much more varied competition at gambling tables. The players who really train their expressions can do so with fortunes at stake, while novices reveal every victory or loss plainly on their face.”

10) Dracula considers this. And smiles.

11) “Ah, then there must be stakes before we can play the game properly. Still, you have won the bulk of these rounds, my friend—” his hand seems like it wants to be strangling something when it drums atop the gold heap, “—and done me the charity of not taking your rightful winnings.” He throws down his cards. Ace and deuce of spades. “I shall have to speak with the kitchen about producing a stand-in prize.”

He leaves. Jonathan doesn’t blink when he hears the door lock behind him. A card pyramid is erected.

12) Paprika hendl for supper. As excellent as he remembers. Huzzah.

13) The next time he’s herded into the library, he sees what looks suspiciously like his travel paraphernalia flimsily hidden behind a bit of drapery. Dracula is shuffling the deck.

14) “A true prize on the table this time, my friend. I know you are one to appreciate the splendor of our beautiful country, just as I know it is, for your own safety, quite impossible to go exploring alone in the wild. Too many wolves about. But if you win the majority tonight, I shall see to it that my driver takes a leave from his own many errands to escort you beyond the castle for a time, if you so wish.”

“…And if I lose the majority?” He can’t help it: “I’m sure there’s little from me you’d be interested in.”

Dracula grins.

“We shall think of something, I’m certain. Here. Deal.”

15) As expected, Jonathan’s face isn’t effortlessly unreadable in its misery anymore. He has something to play for, even if his trust in Dracula’s dangling carrot on the stick is nigh nonexistent. He loses more. He struggles more. He worries more…

16) …But the wins and losses remain surprisingly even. On into the dawn they play, matching victory for victory. Even the Count seems puzzled. Jonathan is just tired. He was never going to win. The ‘driver’ will fall to some mysterious ailment, his possessions will disappear the moment he’s sent out of the room ahead of the Count. To Hell with it.

17) “I forfeit. We remain tied, so neither has to lose.” A sour smile curls. “Besides, I have kept you up too late again.”

“One more.”

“We can say you won—,”

Dracula gives him a Look.

Jonathan sits again. Plays again.

Wins again.

Dracula hisses several words the polyglot dictionary would be scandalized to translate. Jonathan feels the first genuine smile he’s wanted to make in a month and a half try to creep up on his lips, and stifles it.

18) Dracula turns over his cards and thumbs though the deck as if looking for a conspirator. He even scowls at Jonathan’s forearms, both bare through the whole game as he’d rolled up his sleeves. Still grumbling, his thumbnail finally hooks a card that makes a cloud pass over his face.

19) “What. Is this?”

Jonathan looks.

“Oh, that’s just a Joker.”

“Joker?”

“Yes, I thought I’d taken him out. He’s not a usable card in this game, but he’s sometimes used as a trump or wild card in others. That is, he’s there to turn the tide for whoever gets to play him.”

Jonathan reaches for the card to tuck it back in the box. Dracula pulls it out of reach, walks to the fireplace, and flicks it into the flames.

“Say what you will, but I recognize a symbol of sabotage when I see it. It should not be in the deck at all!” Still watching the little harlequin turn to cinders, he flaps his other hand at Jonathan. “Go rest, my friend. Take that infernal game with you. It is not a respectable pastime for men of our like.”

20) Jonathan gathers up the deck, gives his travel kit a last mournful look, and leaves for his bedroom, knowing not to ask after the walk in the forest as he goes. In his bed, he empties the deck into his hand again and thinks on four things.

Skill.

Acting.

Luck.

And…

21) He turns the deck’s neglected second Joker over in his fingers, the impish face seeming to hold a secret in its grin.

22) When he wakes next, he isn’t surprised to find the deck has been stolen. It doesn’t trouble him. Somehow, it even produces a tired grin on his face. It nearly matches the painted thing hidden, wild and powerful, in the pages of his journal.

#in which time is passed and you should always consider stray cards in the deck #jonathan harker #dracula #re: dracula #dracula daily #poker #playing cards #joker #my writing

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em1i2a3 · 2 months ago

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In The Heat of The Summer, You’re So Different From The Rest.

Bjorn x fem!reader

Author’s Note: Howdy y’all. I took a bit of time off from writing because Christmas was an absolute shit show with all the gift shopping and family gatherings. I managed to write this on my breaks during work, and today I was finally able to sit down and work through the little slump I hit to finish this thing! I am back on the roll though and have so many damn ideas running through my head, I cannot wait to post more and let you guys in! Hope you guys had a great Christmas (or holidays!), and I hope you all enjoy this new little one shot. Enjoy your New Year’s Eve if I don’t post before that! :)

Warnings: 18+, NSFW, minors DNI. We have oral sex, both female and male receiving at the same time, P in V sex (unprotected, you know the drill, wrap it up before you go heels to Jesus please lol, stay protected), there’s an established FWB relationship here, I don’t think I missed anything!

A p.s from the author: Y’know when you hear a song and you’re like “holy shit this is a good song to base a horny little smut piece on”? Yeah Summer by Brockhampton is the fucking culprit for the inspiration of this little one-shot. Love the song, adore the lyrics and my god does it make me want to be in warmer weather right now lol.

Word Count: 4,474

Nothing had prepared you for Yvaga III’s twin suns. The warmth felt suffocating, and it weighed everything down, making the air shimmer with a golden haze that made your skin perpetually damp with sweat. The lush greenery and rolling hills were beautiful, sure, but it was hard to appreciate it when every article of clothing clung to your back, and every movement you made sent fresh beads of sweat down your skin. Sometimes, you even found yourself longing for the dark and sterile chill of Jackson’s Star.

You sat in the shadow of the ship, the heat of the day clinging to the air, sticking onto your skin, a film of sweat painting your entire body. You wore a white tank top and a pair of boxer shorts you borrowed from Tyler, knowing they would provide a more airy and baggy fit. Your legs were stretched out in front of you, and you held the data pad in your hands, looking at the scan you had conducted on the ship.

“The air conditioner is fucking broken.” You called out over the drilling noise that echoed above you, throwing yourself back into the tall grass that cushioned you and the ship, sweat trailing down your temples as you squinted up at the shimmering sky.

“I think we knew that when we woke up drowning in our own sweat this morning for Christ sake.” Navarro yelled from the top of the wing above you.

“I feel like I’m overheating, does anyone have an ice pack or something?” Rain complained, her voice carrying from inside the ship as she stepped into the light, her face reddened by the heat, looking as miserable as you felt.

”We’re saving them for tonight.” Tyler responded, “I’d rather not have one of us die from heat stroke while sleeping.” He added, as you wiped the sweat off your forehead with the back of your arm, your chest filling with the thick air.

”This place is gonna fucking kill me.” You muttered, lifting yourself up from the grass, dusting the back of your shorts off “I’m going to lay in my bunk.” You called out, feeling all the sweat dripping down your skin as you made your way into the ship. Thankfully it wasn’t as bad as being outside, but it was still stuffy, the dull scent of sweat mixing with the moisture in the air. You kicked off your shoes, entering the living quarters you shared with Navarro, throwing yourself onto the bottom bunk with a loud groan, before quickly flipping yourself over to stare up at the beams that held up the bed above you. The tank top you wore was soaked through, and the waistband of your boxer shorts were damp, sweat was pooling everywhere, and all you could do was try to fan yourself with your hand, hoping that it would help.

The sound of heavy boots on the metal floors echoed outside of the living quarters, immediately gaining your attention, a groan escaping your lips as you closed your eyes.

”Go away.” The steps didn’t stop, and a moment later the door to the room hissed open. You tilted your eyes towards the doorway, seeing Bjorn standing against the frame. He wasn’t wearing a shirt, and his shorts hung dangerously low on his hips, the dark fabric sticking to his legs. Like everyone else he was glistened with sweat, and flushed red from being exposed to the prolonged heat. His sharp blue eyes scanned over you slowly, lingering on the way your tank top was clinging to you before returning his eyes to yours.

”Are you always this dramatic, or is today special?” He asked, amused by the sight in front of him, as you shot him a tired glare.

”What do you want, Bjorn?” He stepped inside of the room, letting the door shut behind him.

”You looked like you were going to faint out there,” He said, a smirk widening across his face, leaning against the wall near the bunk beds, “Thought I’d make sure you didn’t melt into the floor or something.”

“Well, I didn’t.” You muttered, pushing yourself up onto your elbows, his eyes flickering to your tank top again, watching your chest rise and fall. He was practically stripping you with his eyes at this point, the way they roamed over your exposed legs, picturing the last time he had held them, or nipped at the skin of your thighs. It was impossible not to picture you under him, especially when you were splayed out like this and breathless.

”You look like you’re suffering,” He said, his tone laced with mocking sympathy, “Want me to get a fan?” You rolled your eyes.

”Do you see a fan anywhere?” You shot back, your voice sharp. Bjorn grinned, and reached into his pocket, pulling out a single large ice cube, holding it up into your line of sight between his fingers.

”I brought you something better.” He commented.

”And what are you going to do with that?” You asked, your eyes flickering from the ice cube then back to him.

”Help you out,” He responded, pushing himself off the wall to sit on the edge of your bunk, the mattress dipping under his weight. The faint smell of sweat and aftershave itches your nose as you sit up fully, “Unless you’d rather be uncomfortable, cause if that’s the case I’ll use this on myself.” You squinted at him.

”This feels like a setup.” Bjorn’s smirk widened.

”Always so suspicious…” He murmured, “You know me better than that love.”

“That’s exactly why I’m suspicious.” Not moving as he leaned in closer, bringing the ice up to your neck without waiting for permission. The first touch felt electric as the cool droplets slid against your heated skin. You gasped softly at the sensation, a gentle relief washing over you, feeling Bjorn’s hand come into contact with your thigh, rubbing it slowly, caressing it with such softness that it almost made you climb on him.

“You’re jumpy,” He remarked, trailing the ice down the curve of your neck.

”It’s cold,” You replied, your voice shaky despite your best efforts to hold in your reactions.

”That’s the point.” You felt your cheeks heat up at the way he whispered. The ice left a wet, glistening path down your skin, as his knuckles moved the drops of water along your collarbone. The touch was slow, and when his eyes flicked to yours, the intensity made your stomach tighten.

”Been a while,” You said softly, your voice catching in your throat, Bjorn’s eyes relaxing a bit, his hand on your thigh sliding up to your waist, nodding.

”I know.” He whispered. The two of you had this on again off again thing together, oftentimes you turned to him just for some physical contact, but it was so natural you guys had found yourselves addicted to one another. The dry spell came when the close living quarters were established, and neither of you could figure out how to sneak around properly without the whole group figuring things out, so plans were scarce.

The ice trailed lower now, slipping beneath the neckline of your tank top, settling on one of your breasts, his fingers tugging at the hem of your shirt.

”Let’s take this off hmm?” You hesitated slightly, the tension between the two of you thickening. Slowly, he pulled the damp fabric over your head, tossing it to the floor. His gaze dragged over you, the hunger burning behind his blown out pupils, lingering on every curve of your body, and every bead of sweat that created a sheer on your skin. A small smile appeared on his lips.

”Much better,” He muttered, the ice now tracing over the swell of your breast, the coolness causing your nipples to harden, your back arching towards him. His free hand came up to push the cold trail of droplets over the rest of your heated skin.

”Still too hot?” He asked, moving closer to you.

”Bjorn-“ Your sentence died as he dropped the piece of ice off the side of the bed, sliding his hands to your hips, gripping tightly before pulling you forward to lift you effortlessly onto his lap with a practiced ease, a sharp gasp escaping your throat. His stiff chest pressed against yours, his hands trailing to your thighs, holding you in place. He looked up at you, his grin widening now, your hands coming up to hold either side of his damp neck.

”That’s much better.” He commented, settling himself beneath you, before claiming your mouth with his in a kiss that was tense and rough, his hands roaming over your back with the confidence of knowing exactly how to touch you under his belt. He broke the kiss, moving his lips towards your neck, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin before soothing the marks with his soft tongue. You breathed in shakily, your fingers now tangling into his hair, his hands pulling you flush against him.

”Bjorn,” You moaned, his name leaving your lips effortlessly, feeling his open mouth peppering hot wet kisses along your jaw. His fingers digging into your thighs just enough to remind you how firmly he had you in place.

”Something you need to say?” His breath stuck to your skin, a smile ghosting against your neck.

”You’re being cocky.” Bjorn chucked, the sound resonating against your throat.

“Am I? Cause I don’t really hear you complaining.” Before you could retort, his hands shifted, one trailing up the small of your back to pull you closer to him, the other settling on the soft skin of your waist. His calloused fingers tickled the sensitive flesh of your lower back, as his mouth returned to yours, his lips moving against yours gently. The weight of him beneath you, the heat radiating from every inch of his body, was overwhelming to your senses, but the tension was burning and tightening even more in the pit of your stomach. His teeth grazed your bottom lip, tugging gently at it before deepening the kiss, his tongue brushing against yours, making your breath hitch briefly, your hand coming up to cradle his cheek, a moan vibrating against his lips. You could feel his touch travel down to your ass, gripping the flesh in his palms, massaging gently, as he guided your hips towards his so that you could feel how hard he was through his shorts.

”I think we have too many clothes on.” He whispered against your mouth, the both of you giggling softly.

”Couldn’t agree with you more.” You smiled, kissing him one more time before moving off of him, going further back onto your bunk while peeling off the boxer shorts you had on, throwing them off the side of the bed, your gaze attaching to Bjorn’s as he stood up from the mattress, removing his shorts and boxers in one go. You were always surprised at how ready he was when the two of you would have sex, and this time was no exception. His cock was hard, the tip was a blush red, but he wasn’t too riled up yet, not enough to have precum dripping out from the tip, but the sight still made your mouth water. He made sure the door to the room was locked before joining you on the bed, your fingers trailing over the skin of your stomach as you watched him settle on his knees, opening your legs to have him settle between them.

”Eager are we?” He commented, pushing some of the stray hairs out of your face, plastering an array of kisses over your face, on your cheeks, your forehead, the tip of your nose, but completely avoiding your lips, trying to tease you.

”I could say the same for you, it’s obvious you’re the catalyst for this situation right now.” You point out, a smirk drawing up on your lips, as he pulls you onto him, your thighs now straddling his waist, “Point proven.” You say breathlessly, leaning down to kiss him roughly, holding his stubbly cheeks between your hands, feeling his fingers digging into the meat of your hips. He pulls away from the kiss, his sharp blue eyes glossed over, drunk on his own anticipation.

”Turn around,” He instructed, his voice steady. You could feel the heat creeping up on your skin, your heart pounding against your chest, as he guided you in turning your body with an ease that sent a thrill through you, you hesitated for a moment, following his lead, twisting until you were straddling him in reverse. He pulled you back a little bit, just enough so you could feel the heat of his breath travelling over the back of your thighs, and cooling your wet core, a small groan escaping Bjorn’s lips at the sight.

”Just like that, stay right there.” He whispered, steadying you as his lips pressed against one of your thighs, sucking gently on the flesh, leaving a small red mark right below your butt. The intimacy of the position had your heart racing so much you could feel your head spinning, your hands bracing yourself on his thighs as his mouth came up right against your cunt, his tongue teasing against your slit with a precision that made your breath catch in your throat. He knew your body like that back of his hand, he knew all your weaknesses, and he loved every second he had you squirming under his control. A soft moan escaped your lips, your body responding by pressing against his unyielding tongue, your fingers digging gently into his thighs. His stubble scraped against your skin, the roughness adding an edge to the overwhelming heat of his touch and breath. You pushed yourself more towards him, your back arching at the way his tongue worked against you, another moan escaping your lips, reaching down to grab onto his cock, feeling and hearing his breath hitch at the new contact, bringing yourself down to the tip, your tongue flicking against it to tease him, earning a groan. His movements faltered for a moment, as his mouth moved off of you.

”You’re really trying to one-up me huh?” You smiled.

”Always,” You replied, adjusting now so you were almost flat against him, your mouth now wrapping around the head of his cock, sucking and tracing your tongue along the sensitive nerve endings, savoring the low groan that it coaxed from him, tasting the saltiness of his precum. You began to move your hand in sync with your mouth's movements, listening closely to the uneven breaths Bjorn took, as he refocused on his own task, his hands now holding onto your lower back moving your soaked core back down onto his mouth. His tongue explored every inch of you, tasting every last drop that fell from your slit, his lips teasing and coaxing reactions from you that left your body trembling on top of him. He was much more experienced than you, and he just knew what to do with your body to make you melt into him, he knew your weak spots, he knew that if he took your clit into his mouth you’d give up immediately, but he didn’t want that, this newfound position was driving you both crazy at this point.

The shared rhythm you found was intoxicating, the heat between the both of you building with every movement, and every moan and gasp for air. You took him deeper into your mouth, pulling up just enough to suck on the tip, feeling Bjorn groan against your skin, the vibrations adding to the overwhelming stimulation his tongue was providing. Your hand tightened around his shaft in response, your movements growing bolder as you took him in deeper, working to draw out those sounds from him again, craving the reactions he was giving you, feeling his body tensing beneath you, his mouth pulling away from you for a split second.

”God keep going, don’t stop.” He begged, burying his face back into you, his eagerness playing out in front of you. You moaned against him, your focus splitting between the pleasure he was giving you, and the satisfaction of feeling him unraveling under your hands and mouth. The tension between the both of you built with every movement, and every passing second, the air thick with heat, and with the unspoken understanding as you moved together, giving and receiving in perfect sync. You could feel his calloused hands slide up your back, then back to your hips, his mouth now moving to your clit, eliciting a sharp gasp from you, his lips turning up into a smile. You pulled off him for a moment, catching your breath before focusing on the now reddened tip of his cock, running your tongue over the head, focusing on the most sensitive area just below the head. His breath hitched, his voice breaking as he groaned your name, his hips shifting beneath you.

The position left no room for barriers between the both of you, the intimacy of the act alone was just enough, but the raw physicality of the moment was the thing that was pushing you and Bjorn closer to the edge. His hands moved again, one sliding up your back to steady you as the other gripped your hip, his touch grounding you even as his mouth continued to work you into a frenzy.

”Please Bjorn, don’t stop.” You begged, your words spurring him on, as you focused to match his intensity, the tension continuing to build until it was almost unbearable. Every sound and tremor the both of you shared between each other was overwhelming, the pleasure being a fire consuming everything around you.

When the tension finally broke, it left you in absolute shambles, your body was moving involuntarily at that point, grinding on his face, as his hips raised slightly, so you could take him deeper into your mouth, his cum coating the back of your throat. You swallowed every drop, moaning against him as you rode out your orgasm, coating his face with your slick. Your bodies tangled together in a mess, feeling the world blurring around you. Bjorn lapped up the slickness coming from you, before pulling away, pressing a lingering kiss to the back of your thighs, his breath warm against your skin. You took your mouth off him, a sigh escaping your lips at the sensations that were still running through your body.

“Okay…” Bjorn muttered after a long moment, “That was impressive.” You laughed softly, pushing yourself up, so you could roll off of him. Your legs felt like jello as you practically dragged yourself to the space beside him, seeing his mouth still coated with your slick, a drunk haze glistening in his eyes.

“Impressive?” You echoed, glancing up at him with a faint smirk, “I think we deserve more credit than that.” He chucked, his lips pressing against yours for a moment, before pulling away, watching you lick yourself off your lips.

”Oh definitely, but I don’t think we’re done yet.” He whispered, a smile coming up on his mouth as he watched your eyebrows raise.

“You’re ambitious,” You replied, feeling his fingertips trace circles along your waist, “Didn’t I just ruin you?” Bjorn laughed loudly, feeling himself stirring back to life, the blood running hot in his veins as he nodded.

“I think I’ve got enough left in me to ruin you right back actually, we can call it even after that.” His voice sent a fresh wave of heat through your body, as the familiar pull of desire reignited in your stomach, despite the comedown you were currently experiencing from your orgasm. His shimmering blue eyes searched for yours, the burning craving and lust coating the stare.

“You’re actually serious?” You asked, your voice trembling as his hand moved lower, brushing over the curvature of your hip.

”Very serious,” He replied, leaning over to your ear, his hot breath hitting against the shell, “And by the way, you look incredible like this- flushed, spent, and already ready for more.” He whispered, his words sending shivers down your spine, as he pulled back, shifting so he could sit with his back against the frame of the bunk bed.

“Now climb on.” He added. You looked up at him, now noticing that he too was a blush red all over his naturally pale skin. You laughed a little, pushing yourself up onto your knees.

”You make it sound like you’re an amusement park ride.” You commented, putting your thighs on either side of his hips, the intimacy of the position making your pulse quicken, as you settled on top of him. He reached up, cupping your face in his hands, his thumbs brushing against your cheeks.

”Well, I’m your amusement park ride…And I want to feel you.” You laughed lightly, leaning in, your lips brushing up against his in a kiss that started soft, but quickly escalated into something deeper, more urgent. It was sloppy, and wet, and the both of you could taste each other on your tongues. Bjorn groaned softly, as his hands slid down to grip your waist, pulling you closer to align your bodies perfectly. These were the times where the both of you knew there was something else between the two of you, there was no denying the craving was just a ploy to be closer to you. He could never keep his eyes off you throughout the times where you weren’t sleeping together, and you were the same, but the desire of being something more was left unspoken, it was just the right thing to do.

The earlier tension was still there, simmering just beneath the surface as your hands moved up to hold his neck, feeling Bjorn's fingertips tracing lazy patterns against the soft expanse of skin along your back, the both of you continuing to kiss messily, until your lips were sore. He pulled back, pressing his forehead to yours, his breath uneven, your pubic bone feeling Bjorn’s erection pressing up against it.

“You ready for me?” He asked, one hand coming up to push your hair out of your face, tucking it behind your ear, as the other one settled on your hip.

”Yes.” You replied, your voice trembling, bracing your hands on his shoulders, while you lifted yourself slightly so he could reach around you to line himself up with your sensitive slit, the both of you letting out a synched groan as you sank down onto him, the stretch familiar and intense, sending a jolt of electricity through your body. His hands tightened on your waist, his forehead pressing against your chest briefly before looking up at you, seeing your head tilted back in pure ecstasy, your neck fully exposed to him. He took the opportunity to trail kisses up your damp skin, nipping at every spot he could, feeling you settle down fully onto his cock.

“Fuck, “ He managed to say, “You feel so good.” You let out a shaky laugh, your nails digging into his shoulders as you began to rock your hips, the movements slow at first, testing how much your sensitive walls would be able to handle. You could feel Bjorn’s hands sliding down to your ass, gripping it gently as he rolled his hips beneath you in sync with the way you rocked against him but with a new intensity that made you gasp. The closeness of the position only heightened every sensation that struck your body like a tidal wave, every time his hips met yours you could feel the blood in your veins setting ablaze as you pressed into him even more. Bjorn’s teeth grazed against the skin on your neck, leaving a visible mark, before soothing the zap of pain with his tongue.

”God you’re fucking incredible.” He moaned, thrusting up into you, your head tilting back as your legs tightened around his waist.

”You’re so fucking good to me Bjorn.” You managed to breathe out, your fingers tangling into his hair, pulling it gently, “But I need you to be a little rougher with me now.” He chuckled softly, though it quickly dissolved into a groan as you picked up the pass, your hips moving against his with an urgency he had never seen before, his little gasps for air being heard over the creaking of the bed.

”You’re gonna kill me.” He commented, his voice strained but filled with amusement, his hips now finding your rhythm, grinding up into you as his lips brushed against yours, his tongue teasing yours briefly.

”Good,” You whispered against his mouth, “You deserve it.” You added, letting out a breathless laugh. The pace grew faster, more desperate, the tension building between the both of you again with every thrust and sound that escaped into the room. Bjorn’s grip on you tightened, his movements rougher and sloppier, his breath hot against your skin. You could tell he was close, and as you trembled against him, already chasing your second orgasm, he whispered scrambled sweet nothings into your ear, trying to compose words together even though it was hopeless at this point.

When the tension finally snapped, it made you cry out. Your hands tightened in Bjorn’s hair as his cock twitched in you, his warm cum coating your fluttering walls. His arms wrapped tightly around you, holding your body close to his as he rested his forehead against your shoulder, the both of you attempting to catch your breath, feeling your muscles twitching involuntarily. He pulled back slightly, looking up at you, his ice blue eyes overtaken by the wide expanse of his pupils, a lazy smile drawing up on his lips.

“Was it worth it?” You murmured, your voice teasing, as you brushed a hand through his damp hair. He laughed gently.

”Every fucking second,” He replied, the sentence dripping with satisfaction, “But I will definitely need a break before the next round, you have me spent.” He added, his lips meeting yours briefly as he pulled out of you, feeling his seed drip onto his thigh.

“You must’ve been dying to get a moment alone with me during our little dry spell.” You commented, pulling yourself off him, laying down on the mattress, the pillow puffing out beneath your head.

”Oh you wouldn’t believe it, we have to make sure that doesn’t happen again cause I don’t think I’ll be able to survive another one.” He replied, turning onto his side so he could face you, “I might fucking implode.” He added, earning a laugh from you.

”For once I actually agree with you…” Your voice trailed off, as you turned onto your side as well, “I really missed this.” He smiled, leaning in to give you a gentle kiss.

”I missed it too.”

#alien franchise #alien romulus fanfic #alien: romulus #bjorn alien romulus #bjorn x fem reader #alien romulus #bjorn alien romulus x reader #bjorn smut #bjorn x reader #bjorn alien romulus smut #spike fearn #my entire body is literally on fire from writing this thing for too long lol #the hot hot heat of my steamy mind #i’m just a girl

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