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dwaekkicidal · 3 months ago

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𝖪𝗂𝗇𝗄𝗍𝗈𝖻𝖾𝗋: 'Intense Desire' ༄࿔ L.F.

⤷ Sex Pills | Overstimulation | Squirting

�� word count: 2.9k

♱ warnings: fem!reader, sex pills usage (felix accidentally taking them), mention of a handjob in a car, he gets “mean” for like a split second, unprotected p in v, rough sex, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, creampies, squirting, if u quint theres 1 sentence of angst at the end, i might be forgetting something

♱ notes: sorry this was delayed! I made it a little longer than the others in hopes that it would make up for the tardiness <3 also 1 the beginning might feel rushed (it was) and 2 sex pills dont completely work like this?? But its fiction so.. pls bare with me im so stressed out LMFAO

Kinktober Schedule

DO NOT republish or translate+post my work!

The pounding in Felix’s head was just enough to distract him from the colorful clothes around the two of you. The initially exciting shopping trip to the mall with your boyfriend had quickly slowed down thanks to the headache he developed out of the blue. Your comforting words and warm hands on his face only helped so much, and he felt horrible for his body refusing to let him enjoy your date.

It wasn’t until you reminded him of the medicines he had packed away in his bag that he let up on his pouting Then, with the familiar feeling of the plastic of a pill bottle on his fingers and a gentle reminder from you that this should be fun for the both of you, Felix finds himself leading you to the food court. He quickly buys a bottle of water and chugs down 3 pills. It’s over the dosage of 2 he normally would take, but he’s desperate to have a good time with you.

Not long after, he’s back to his normal self and the thumping pain in his head is long gone. Wide smiles and crescent eyes watch you pick out interesting clothes, some even meant to match with him. Everything is back to normal!

That is until 30 minutes after the fact when he’s patiently sitting outside of your changing room waiting for you to try on the next outfit. He starts to feel a new, less painful ache. One between his legs that he’s all too familiar with.

Literal lines of sweat are dripping down his forehead and his neck when you open the curtain to present the outfit you picked out. He forces a smile and has to tear his eyes away from the tight pants to give his opinion. A curt, breathy, “Beautiful.”

The sweat immediately catches your attention and obviously raises concerns from the way your eyebrows furrow. He notices right away and tries not to let it worry you, shooing you away and encouraging you to try on the last pieces of fabric that await you in the changing room.

The second the curtains close behind you he racks his brain for possible reasons as to why a sudden, strong feeling of horniness took over his body. It’s even to the point where his whole body tingles from the ceiling fans above him. The slow gusts of wind make his cock ache in his jeans and goosebumps litter his arms.

He doesn’t think he’s ever gotten this horny in his life. Even the time when you managed to rile him up to the point where he almost came in his jeans when you brushed past him he had never felt this way. He swore he could feel his veins burning as he looked through his bag for his phone, praying that Google would explain everything.

But he doesn’t get far enough to grab his phone, because the realization hits him like a tsunami wave. The pills. He realizes too late that he never checked which medicine he took. And sure enough, when he checked his bag, the tiny plastic bottle he had a hold on earlier wasn’t his Ibuprofen.

Instead, it was a blue pill bottle that he kept for special medicines that he would occasionally get prescribed. This time around, it was the brand new, not prescribed pills he had put to the side for… intimacy reasons.

It was embarrassing at first for him. A young, attractive man in his 20s struggling with his sex life. All thanks to the wear and tear from work stress: the unforgiving cycle of working too much and being overwhelmed, then taking a break and working too little just to fall behind.

You understood! It’s understandable to not be able to get hard when there’s a never ending dread that has made home in the back of your mind. And it was clearly obvious that he is attracted to you, every other time the two of you were intimate is enough evidence for that.

So you offered him an idea that might help! That idea being “horny” pills. It took some convincing and consistent reassurance for him to cave and agree. Which led to that little blue bottle of little red pills that made his not-so-little friend crave your attention.

“Lixie?” Your voice snaps him out of his daydreaming and his head snaps up to see your head poking out of the curtain. Your giggle goes straight to his dick and he has to force a smile to get through the ache. “I need your help with this dress. I can’t get the zipper up.”

You don’t need to ask twice, especially when the promise of getting to see your bare skin is on the table. He’s joining you in the blink of an eye, using his clammy, shaky hands to zip up the dress the rest of the way. Your body flushes at the way he licks his lips as he looks you up and down multiple times.

“Do you like it?” His eyes snap up to yours in the mirror and he nods. It’s pretty obvious to you what’s going on in his head at this point, minus the reason for it, so you rip the dress off and rush to the cashier as fast as you can.

Felix is on your tail the whole time. A hand on your hip and his chest pressed to your back as he shoves his credit card into the card reader. Then again when the two of you get to the car, this time both of his hands on your hips and his face shoved into your neck.

“Need you so fucking bad.” His hard-on is even more obvious now as he grinds it against your thigh, groaning and whining into your neck about how good it feels. You struggle to get the car keys out of his pocket when his hands are all over you, making you feel good when they aren’t even doing much.

“Felix… Not here.” The two of you drabbled in public sex before so it wasn’t a new experience for either of you. But it had been a while since the two of you were intimate so you really didn’t want it to be in the dirty car garage of a mall. In the middle of the day, mind you.

“I need something. Baby, please. I-I can’t do this.” The desperation in his voice is enough to make your neck whip around, almost knocking into his as you look back at him with confusion. He knows you all too well and the answer to your unspoken question is already on the tip of his tongue.

“I accidentally took those sex pills instead of pain meds.” He doesn’t bother explaining further; he doesn’t care anymore. The only thing that’s on his mind is getting you into the car so he can get some sort of stimulation on his poor, achy cock.

You're lucky to even have gotten his hands off of you after that, let alone getting him in the passenger seat and buckled in without him launching at you. However you’re even less lucky as you drive him home, one hand on the wheel and the other- well, on his dick.

You could hear the wetness of him jerking himself off before you saw it. He was keen to get your help though. His eyes were teary and his voice came out a distressed whine as he pleaded for you to help, complaining that his hand wasn’t comparable to how good your hand would feel.

The windows on your shared car are as tinted as legally possible, so you quickly cave and slide your hand toward him. Now 5 minutes away from the house, you quicken your hands in hopes that he’ll cum this soon. But luck isn’t on either of your sides today and the car’s already in park before he’s even close to cumming.

You don’t make it past the entryway before Felix is shoving you forward, pinning you to the wall, and pulling your bottoms to your knees. The sight of your panties all messy and your pussy lips equally as messy from your excitement is enough to make him feral.

“You’re so good to me, Honey. Always so obedient and keeping my pussy ready for me when I most need it. I’m going to give you the world and more.” He doesn’t wait for you to make a comment before he’s pushing your underwear to join your bottoms.

One hand rests on the wall by your face and the other pushes against your lower back, arching your back at the same time that he pushes his cock in. Your walls are warm and wet as they take every last inch of him in, almost as if two puzzle pieces were finally placed together.

Your eyes roll to the back of your head and he sucks on your neck, whispering incoherent mumbles until he’s bottomed out. He only stops then to take deep breaths and calm his own body down. Now that he’s finally inside of you, the effects of the pills feel a million times stronger.

He genuinely feels like a dog in heat, hips still rutting into yours even as his mind tells his body to relax. It doesn’t listen in the slightest and after a short pause his hips are finding a rigorous rhythm.

Felix is a man possessed behind you; nails digging into your skin leaving bruises to come and hips moving with more force than you thought he could give. It’s hard to think he’s not possessed with his filthy mouth, something he’s always been good at but it hits differently when he’s rock hard inside of you and eager to feel every inch of your body all at once.

You start to feel like the pills are affecting you. Your own body reacts to his fervent movements with warm clenches and moans that spur him on. You feel so sensitive and your orgasm sneaks up on you, causing you to wiggle in his hold. The shuffle of your limbs makes him lose his angle and you both whine.

“No, no, no, no, no, no. Stop. You gotta stay arched, baby. Yeah, just like that. Ffuck…” The hand on your back pushes you forward, completely squishing you against the wall as he tries to arch you back to how you previously were. He knows that he did it right when you start to flutter around him again and your moans ascend a few pitches.

With the other hand using all of his fingers to rub your clit back and forth, he pushes you over the edge. You clench around him as you moan into the wall, your arms shaking as you try to hold yourself up against it. He growls against your ear and bites down on it as he continues fucking you through your high.

He doesn’t stop after you’re done. If anything it only encourages him, the ache in his veins telling him that he needs to keep going and make you feel even better. And so he does, with one hand still furiously rubbing your clit back and forth while the other now moves to your waist and holds up your slouching form.

It just squeezes you appreciatively, almost even possessively as he holds you in place when you start to flail. It doesn’t become mean until in the midst of your thrashing, you move yourself just slightly to the point where he loses his angle again. He pushes his hand roughly against you and arches your back himself again, this time with a disgruntled snap.

“Stop fucking doing that.” He’s huffing into your ear as his hips pick up pace, going even faster than he was before. “Be good or else I’ll bend you over with nothing to lean on.” But it’s hard to control your body when painful pleasure is swimming through your body. Even more so when you feel another orgasm lurking.

“B-Baby, fuck! Give me a sec, you’re-” You cut yourself off with a shriek as the hand on your waist moves to tangle itself in your hair. It uses the grip to pull you back up to rest your back flat against his chest. His other hand finally falters at this point, instead of rubbing your clit it sinks into your thigh.

“I’m what, Honey. Tearing up your guts?” He laughs out a sound of agreement that turns into a guttural groan as his blinding thrusts finally let up. A few sharp thrusts and a series of moans fall from his lips as he empties himself out inside of you. It feels like gallons of his seed are filling your stomach, and the feeling of it leaking out onto your inner thighs is enough to make you believe that’s the case.

If he notices, he doesn’t say anything. He just stands there with his forehead against your shoulder and his arms wrapped around your torso, mind reeling as he comes down from such an intense high.

“Baby. You didn’t cum with me at the end, did you?” He’s more upset that he faltered that badly, but the twitch of his cock lets you both know that he’s not close to being done regardless. The question is a real testament to your faith. Lie to him and maybe bribe him to let you take a break, or tell the truth and deal with the consequences. Though, it doesn’t seem like he was asking.

He pulls out and moves his hand to the small of your back. Neither of you even spared a glance at your bottoms as you’re dragged to the living room and shoved into the couch. It knocks the breath from your lungs momentarily, and it’s all the time he needs to bend you to his will. Your shoulders sink into the bottom cushions and your legs are hovering just above you as he shoves his cock inside of you again.

The breath is almost knocked from you again as he finds a new, rougher pace to follow. This one isn’t nearly as fast but the new angle, thanks to your ankles being by his ears, sends him right where he wants to be. His previous load froths along his length as he fucks into you like your lives are on the line.

Your hands find home on his biceps and your nails leave deep crescent shapes along his skin as you desperately try to find something to ground yourself with. The new vigor he fucks you with makes it so that your next orgasm builds up within a minute or two. The feral stare from his lidded eyes only makes your stomach squeeze as you realize that he really has no plans to stop, even if he really wants to.

“Felix, baby, s-slow down. It feels w-weird.” You push against his stomach in hopes that it will slow him down, but it doesn’t. He stays quiet and only responds by grabbing your wrist and shoving it into the cushion by your head; a wordless command for ‘Hands off.’ You look up just in time to see his gaze grow more intense.

He even leans forward, both of his hands moving to your thighs to fold them into your chest. His hips pick up speed once he has you folded to his liking and you find that strange feeling growing stronger. You get a glimpse of him licking his pink lips that then perk up into a menacing smile and then the feeling grows too strong, forcing your eyes closed and your legs to combat his hold.

Your body can only shake as you gush around him and he curses under his breath at the sight. Your cunt spams around him and you squirt through his merciless fucking. The wet, squelching noises combat the volume of your cries to the point where he periodically goes out of his way to thrust into you even rougher just to hear it more.

“You hear her talking to me? Fucking shit- She really liked that, huh baby?” He laughs in disbelief and slams into you repeatedly, chasing his own sudden orgasm from watching you cum so intensely.

“That was so fucking hot, Baby.” The whine in his voice doesn’t match the cocky look on his face, but you can’t be bothered to comment about it as he finishes inside of you all of a sudden. Your sensitive walls constrict around him yet again and he cums deep inside, riding his own orgasm out to the sound of your overwhelmed sobs.

His chest heaves as he catches his breath and he takes the moment to glance at a clock on the wall. It’s been a few hours since he took the pills so they should be going down soon. He can already feel his brain going back to normal, and his thoughts are clearing up as the two of you sit there unmoving.

“You… Are you ok, Honey?” Your sniffles are enough to make his heart drop into his ass, but when you look up at him the anxiety leaves his body. You smile at him through the tears and laugh as best as you can while still breathless.

“Holy shit, Felix.” He matches your chuckle and leans forward, slotting your legs on either side of his waist as he repeatedly pushes his lips against your cheek. “I’m… great. But you owe me for fucking me within an inch of my life like that with no warning.”

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gyuzgrl · 8 months ago

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sixth sense //jww//

anon req- yandere/stalker Wonwoo

summary- when watching you wasn't enough, he'd sneak into your house to get himself off. what happens when Wonwoo realizes he might be able to get something more tonight?

wc- 6k

Wonwoo swore this would be the last time. As his feet carried him further and further, across the street into private property, he promised himself that this was it.

No more.

You see, no matter how hard he tried, Wonwoo just couldn't stop watching you. Where you walked around on campus, the way you spoke to just about everyone so sweetly, how you secretly drifted off in class- he saw it all.

He'd spend hours and hours staring at your face, observing the way your features would morph into all sorts of expressions- so much so he now knows them by heart.

What started as something innocent, however, turned much darker when he realised that you lived in the house opposite his.

Night upon night, Wonwoo would sit by his window, watching, observing as you went about your life, completely unaware.

Your curtains were open- always were.

He knew when you studied, when you slept, when you touched yourself. You were so naive, so innocent, he really just couldn't help himself.

You made it so easy.

And now he's here, inside your house- with an hour to spend and a filthy, filthy imagination.

He's been here a couple of times before. Once when you'd left to go study at the library, another time when Somi and you went out for brunch, last week when your mother and you went shopping.

This time was different, though.

This time, you'd left him a little present on your bed.

As he walks into your room with practiced ease, Wonwoo's breath catches at the sight of pretty pink lingerie and a matching vibrator, laying exposed on your duvet.

'oh you have plans tonight, don't you?'

His thoughts show so clearly on his face- that signature Wonwoo smirk, corners of his lips just barely tilting up, head tipping to one side as his eyes linger over the pink lacey fabric.

Tentatively, he takes hold of the toy, clasping it in his palm, feeling the smooth, shiny plastic against his skin. Wonwoo's thoughts drift to how you'd use it in a few hours, completely unaware that he's been touching it- in turn, indirectly touching you.

'didn't know you liked this kinda stuff,'

'dirty girl'

Your room's mostly clean, usually is, save for the tangle of wires under your desk and a few odd clothes tossed at the foot of your closet. The laundry bin's full; a lid keeps it under control, but fails to hide the silky red fabric of your panties- the ones he saw you take off earlier this morning.

His eyes light up. The vibrator is long forgotten.

Time is of the essence here- there's not a lot of it left- so he grabs the red fabric in a haste and holds it to his face, inhaling deeply to take in your scent.

"fuck-" he groans softly, knees weakening at how goddamn good you smell. There's a hint of that fabric softener you use, clean and floral, but there's also the intoxicating scent of you.

The most intimate part of you.

Wonwoo settles on your duvet, nose still buried into your panties, and his eyes flutter closed as an evil hand snakes it's way into his sweatpants.

His cock jumps at the contact, and he hisses, taking his lower lip in between his teeth. Thoughts of you flood his mind, and he replays the image of you from two nights ago, with your naked body on full display as you lay in this exact spot, touching that pretty cunt of yours.

Slowly, Wonwoo begins to pump himself, squeezing hard around his girth, trying to satiate that red hot pit of desire screaming within.

He takes in a shaky breath, letting you flood his senses, and he feels himself grow in his fist, now moving faster.

Wonwoo thinks of you- of your voice, of your face, of your body. How you'd sound, whimpering, sobbing under him, how your features would settle so perfectly into utter bliss, how your skin; soft to the touch, would jump under his fingertips.

Within minutes, he feels his cock throb. It's hot and heavy in his hand, the tip burns a fiery shade of red as he works himself up to his release pumping faster as he takes you in desperately.

"f-fuck y/n" he chokes out, head falling back into your pillows.

His fist tightens around the width of his dick, trying to mimic what he thinks you'll feel like, and in seconds he tips over the edge. Hot, white ropes stream out of his cock, dribbling out of the tip, and he hunches over quickly to your nightstand to pluck out a tissue or two.

As he cleans himself off, the guilt hits, like it always does.

This is wrong, he knows it is, but he really just can't bring himself to stop. It's as though you've cast a spell on him and now he's become your very own moon- chasing after you, endlessly.

Wonwoo tidies up the bed, fixing your sheets, fluffing up your duvet, and he deposits- albeit reluctantly- your panties back to their assigned spot in the laundry bin.

15 minutes till you come back home.

He heads to your kitchen and discards his soiled tissues into the garbage shoot, destroying all the evidence that he was ever here.

There's still a bit of time left for him, so he looks through your pantry, face falling when he sees the endless sea of instant-meal cartons and ramen packets.

'you really should take better care of yourself,'

Just as he's about to close the cabinet, something catches him eye.

A hand blender- rather, the hand blender you borrowed from him last week. In a sudden burst of genius, Wonwoo comes up with a plan.

It's hasty, definitely reckless, but he has a shot at getting to touch you.

step 1- hide the blender inside the highest shelf of your pantry.

check.

step 2- head back home, shower, put on the cologne you seem you like, change into loose grey sweats and a fitted white wife beater.

check.

step 3- wait till you get home and watch as you settle into bed, ready to play.

check.

step 4- once you begin to work yourself up, almost on the verge of release, that's when he'll strike, ringing your doorbell to ask for his blender.

Wonwoo's heart thuds against his chest as he presses your doorbell. The sound echoes around in his head and he swears he can feel his heart in his throat. Scuffling footsteps draw his attention back to you, and he smirks, imaging what you look like right now; scrambling around to cover yourself up, frustrated that you've been interrupted.

The distinct slap of your house slippers against wooden floors grows louder and louder, in time with Wonwoo's speeding heart, and he feels his mouth go dry.

This is happening.

Creaking your door open, you pop your head out, eyes widening when you see Wonwoo at your doorstep.

"this a bad time?" he asks, tilting his head to the side as his eyes rake over your body, observing the loosely tied robe you've covered up with.

"uh n-no, what's up Won?"

Fuck there was that petname you used all the time. He hated petnames, hated when people called him stuff like that, but with you? God, there was something so cute about it when you said his name like that. Makes him want to push you down and fuck you senseless right here on your doorstep.

"you remember that blender you borrowed? I kinda need it right now," his voice is deep as he speaks, and you notice his apperance.

Tight white vest, baggy grey sweatpants, wet hair- fuck he's your very own wet dream, delivered right to your doorstep. A deep blush spreads across your cheeks and you wonder if he knows what you've been up to.

"y-yeah, come in I've got it around here somewhere," you stutter, stepping back to let him in. Wonwoo steps forward, his long legs closing the distance between your bodies, and you gasp, eyes flicking over to his as he towers over you, barely an inch between your frame and his.

Once again, he let's his eyes skim over you, taking note of the way your cheeks heat up under his stare.

'oh? you like this, don't you?'

There's that smirk again, the knowing twitch of his lips, the condescending look in his eye. He's assured, you're far too desperate to turn him down when he makes his move.

Despite the rambling thoughts inside him, Wonwoo appears composed. He quirks a brow at you, looking almost unimpressed, and you scramble around for words..

"you w- you walk really um, really fast,"

"you don't," he states, bemused, "I really do need that blender, though."

Embarrassed, your skin burns crimson and your lips part, forming an 'o' shape.

"o-oh uh yeah that. it should be in here," you mutter, sauntering your way over to the kitchen with him trailing right behind.

Wonwoo has to physically restrain himself from reaching out to run his palm over the curve of your ass, swaying enticingly as you walk.

'fuck you made this so hard-'

You slip behind the kitchen island, throwing a quick glance his way over your shoulder, before opening up the first cabinet- the one that originally did have Wonwoo's blender.

Clumsy hands, pat around the surface of the shelf in vain, and you turn around, pouting. Wonwoo thinks this is his breaking point (it isn't, but still).

"not here, sorry this might take a while Won"

His heart swells at the petname, and inside he's got fireworks going off. On the outside, however, he remains unmoved.

"yeah take your time, baby, I've got all evening"

You flush.

He called you baby.

Turning to face him, you offer a watery, nervous smile.

"m'sorry Wonnie"

'oh fuck me-'

You turn back around pulling open another cabinet, and then another and another. Moving from the ones at eye level, you kneel down, digging through the shelves under your counter top. The angle makes Wonwoo dizzy.

'you're doing this on purpose, I swear'

On your knees, eyes a little teary from embarrassment, you look up at him, shaking your head. This is the sixth shelf.

"sorry-"

"you're good, here- I'll help you look"

Wonwoo's voice soothes through you, it's low timbre running along your nerves like guitar strings. He steps beside you, eyes scanning over the counter top as you stand up and open your highest cabinet.

You stand on your tip toes, arm fully outstretched, and you begin to search around; this time in the right cabinet. As your fingertips glaze over something that feels like a blender, your eyes light up, and Wonwoo, standing behind you, takes notice.

"think it's here"

The only issue now, is that you can't reach it. It's too high up for you to grasp properly. You stretch as far as you can, straining your body as you try to reach the little plastic device, and before you know what's happening, you feel a presence directly behind you.

Wonwoo.

His chest pushes flush against your back as his arm extends out far beyond yours, and you let out a surprised squeak.

He grins.

The hard muscle of his torso has your mouth watering, only adding to your desperation. Sure, having your orgasm so rudely ripped away is one thing, but to have Jeon Wonwoo of all people, dressed the way he is, pushing up against you, all while you're defenseless and unable to satisfy yourself? Oh this is just pure torture.

"found it" he whispers right above your ear, his breath tickling the shell of it. You shudder.

Wonwoo brings his arm back down, setting the item down on the counter. You turn around, caged between his arms, and your knees go weak at the sight in front of you.

The thick muscles of his arms are on full display, veins jutting out deliciously right beside you. Wonwoo's eyes stay trained on your own, a dark desire, a hunger, running wild in them.

Suddenly, you realise, your little bullet vibrator won't be enough for you tonight.

You gulp noticing the proximity of your bodies, of your faces, and Wonwoo smirks.

"you're all red,"

"s-shut up"

"but you are, I mean look at these" he grins, bringing his fingers up to press your cheeks together. "so fuckin' cute when you blush,"

You're stunned into silence.

"and this-" he motions to your robe, now loose, falling apart at your cleavage, revealing the delicate pink lace of your bra, "who's this for?"

Your eyes almost double in size when you glance down, and you scramble to adjust yourself.

"it's nothing! I was just- I was just um,"

"just what?"

Your brows scrunch up as you bite your lip, suddenly conscious of your surroundings, and you avoid his gaze, opting to look down at the fabric of his vest.

"were you playing with yourself?"

You shake your head furiously, tears welling in your eyes. God, this is embarrassing but for some reason, you find yourself growing hotter, wetter by the second, with your body pressed up against his.

"dirty girl,"

Wonwoo's voice is sultry and low, he's practically purring at you, eyes glazed over with desire. The way he calls you has your cunt clenching down around empty space, and you know you need this. You need him.

"if I was t-touching myself, would you be upset?"

'hook, line, and sinker.'

"oh princess, you were just trynna feel good, of course I won't be upset" he coos, stroking your hair.

"a-and if I say that I was thinking of y-"

"hm?"

"if I say that I was thinking of you, while I was... y'know, would you be mad?"

Oh he wasn't expecting that.

Not one bit.

The stoic, unmoving persona dissipates within seconds and Wonwoo let's out a shaky breath, bringing his face closer to yours, leaving barely an inch of space.

"not at all,"

There's a short pause as you both share understanding glances- a wordless confession.

"this is my mess to fix, isn't it?" he whispers, breath fanning over your face, burning hot against your cheeks.

You nod, desperately, and he leans his forehead against yours.

"and you want me to fix it, baby?"

"please," you whimper, pressing your thighs together helplessly.

Wasting not a second more, rather, unable to wait a second more, Wonwoo pushes his lips to yours, enveloping them in a hungry, needy kiss.

Hot, wet skin greets your mouth, cradling your lower lip as he sucks feverishly at the tender flesh. Wonwoo slides a hand up to your chin, tilting your face up between his thumb and forefinger, and you gasp when he prods his tongue into your mouth.

A pathetic whimper escapes you, and you give in to his body.

"you want this?" he pants, his breath hot, meshing with your own.

"I do- fuck I really do Wonnie"

Your voice is whiny, your eyes gloss over, Wonwoo curses under his breath.

Without warning, he slides his hands under your thighs, and hoists your body up, moving you to sit on the counter. You gasp at how easily he manages to lift you- like you're a fragile little doll, completely at his mercy.

As your thighs spill out from under the robe, they make contact with the cool, hard marble below, and you jump at the sudden sensation.

The fabric of your robe rides up, giving Wonwoo access to the hem of your panties, and his eyes flick down, darkening considerably when he looks at your pink lingerie.

"oh? what's this you're wearing?" There's a smirk in his voice, plain as day. His hands smooth over the front of your thighs, stopping right at the edge of the robe.

"may I?"

His eyes draw back up to yours, and he looks at you, the question genuine in his gaze.

"yes," you breathe, swallowing at the thick lump in your throat.

Eager hands slide up, disappearing momentarily under your robe to feel you first, before pulling the loose fabric apart completely.

Wonwoo slips the silky fabric over your shoulders, letting it pool around your thighs on the counter, and it's as though life presses pause for a while.

He stares at you in awe, in wonder, eyes tracing over every curve, every contour of your body and the lace against it.

"you're so beautiful-" he shudders, unable to stop himself from looking.

"I am?"

Wonwoo rolls his eyes.

"what, you didn't know?"

"uh uh," you shake your head, staring up at him through thick lashes, "nobody's called me that before"

There's a pause. You can practically hear the gears twisting and turning in Wonwoo's head, with his brow set in a frown.

'you really didn't know'

'how do I show yo-'

His lips twitch up, revelation written all over his face.

"as much as I'd love to fuck you into this counter, there's something better in store upstairs,"

"u-upstairs? but how do-"

"shh, princess, don't bother your pretty head about silly things, hm?" he cooes, placing a gentle kiss to your forehead.

In a swift motion, you feel the surface beneath you shift away as Wonwoo lifts you into his arms, hands hooked under the flesh of your ass.

You yelp, eyes wide with panic, but the adoring grin painted on his face calms you down. He walks up the stairs, turning to the right, unlocking your door.

"but how do you kno-"

"patience, pretty- we'll talk when I'm done with you" his voice takes on a darker tone, and you feel your arousal seep through the flimsy lace of your panties. Feeling the tip of his fingers dampen, Wonwoo smirks knowingly.

"someone's eager"

You blush, hiding your face in the crook of his neck, but Wonwoo's quick to pull you back.

"don't you dare hide from me."

The familiar, plush mattress of your bed greets your thighs as he sets you down gently, eyes practically glued to your face, scanning for discomfort.

"if you wanna stop you're gonna tell me, kay? if you can't use your words, tap twice" he says, bringing your hand to his bicep.

"uhuh" Your eyes are hazy, staring into his, as you marvel at how breathtaking he looks crouched down towards you, watching, observing.

Your hand smoothes over his muscles, dipping into the ridges, feeling how firm and strong he really is. Wonwoo shivers under your touch, revelling in how soft your fingers feel tracing over his skin.

"keep touching me and this is gonna go a lot different than how I planned,"

"oh yeah? what did you have planned?"

"you see that mirror there?" he tips his head to the side, angling it toward the mirror standing opposite your bed,

"I'm gonna make you watch."

Wonwoo crawls his way up the mattress, shifting himself to sit up against the head board. His legs are folded at the knees, spread just enough to fit you in between, and he smirks.

An arm moves to rest on his knee, and he crooks two fingers at you, a dangerous smirk playing at his lips.

"c'mere"

Wordlessly, you obey, moving shyly into his embrace, facing him so innocently, Wonwoo can barely bring himself to tell you that you need to turn around.

You shuffle onto your shins, awaiting his next command, and he sighs.

"so fuckin' eager- god I bet you're soaking"

Bashfully, you nod your head, eyes lowered.

"turn around for me, hm?" he ushers, his voice gentle yet firm, and you comply once again, turning in between his knees.

The sight before you has your face flaming. Right there on the wall sits a painting of you and Wonwoo, exposing your most intimate moments, bringing them to view. Your eyes meet in the mirror, and his own shine knowingly at the blush searing across your cheeks.

"keep your eyes on us, sweetheart" he mumbles into your ear, breath ghosting over the sensitive flesh, leaving a trail of goosebumps spreading over your neck and shoulder. "don't you dare look away"

A soft whimper escapes you as Wonwoo's lips attach themselves to the skin just below your ear, kissing so gently it raises the tiny hairs on your neck. Your eyes narrow in on the spot connecting your bodies- his lips, your neck- and you feel yourself grow hotter, needier, just from the sight alone.

Leaving wet, dull red marks as he moves to the side, Wonwoo reaches a sensitive spot just above your collar bone, grinning against your skin when you gasp.

"see how pretty you look right now? all marked up for me- all mine,"

"a-all yours," you breathe, head lopping to the side, giving him better access to your neck.

His hands grasp your shoulders, smoothing down your arms slowly before settling at your stomach, essentially caging you into himself.

The sharp sting of his teeth nipping at your skin, the way he holds you so secure, how his voice- sensual and deep like the ocean- resonates deep inside you; it's simultaneously soothing and exciting.

While one part of you wants to melt into him, let yourself drown in the ebb and flow of his voice, the other part is on fire, raging within you, begging to be quenched.

"can I take this off?" he murmurs into your skin, hands grazing over the hem of your bra.

"please,"

Tantalisingly slow, Wonwoo rakes his nails lightly along the width of your bra, until they find your clasp.

Deftly, he clicks you free, ridding your body of the fitted fabric.

"oh would you just- just look at yourself, christ-"

Feverish hands slide under your arms, cupping your breasts, toying with your nipples, as your eyes remain trained on yourself and on the way he handles you.

Wonwoo kneads the flesh of your breasts, squeezing the supple flesh in his grasp, feeling how you fill up his palm so perfectly.

"Wonnie-" you whimper, watching how he manhandles your body, doing as he pleases with you.

"that's right, baby, Wonnie's right here"

His lips resume their work on your neck, pressing sloppy, heated kisses along your skin, occassionally nibbling at a particularly sensitive spot.

The hardened peaks of your breasts poke out enticingly, and Wonwoo knows it'll be criminal to leave them untouched. He pinches each one between his forefinger and thumb, rolling, tugging, squeezing the dark nubs, giving you a different kind of pleasure.

"oh my god-" you gasp, back arching when he tweaks one of your nipples with more pressure than before.

The motion sends a jolt of light all over your body, and you feel yourself yearning for more.

"didn't know you were such a dirty girl," he mumbles into your skin, "letting me touch you like this- must've needed a cock inside you really fucking bad, yeah?"

"uh uh- wanted you for so long Wonnie, just you"

Your voice is embarrassingly whiny and breathy, but Wonwoo hears you loud and clear. He looks at your reflection, meeting your eyes.

"just me, huh?"

You nod, biting your lip, suddenly embarrassed of your sudden confession-

"I- I like you,"

Wonwoo let's out a quivering breath, hands leaving your chest to pull you into a hug. He nuzzles his face into the crook of your neck, taking in your scent as he leaves you with a muffled- "I like you too, god I really like you"

He sighs into your skin, relaxing as he doesn't have to hold his cards so close to his chest anymore. His feelings, your feelings, were out in the open. You feel for him the way he feels for you and that's enough.

The moment you share is almost sweet enough to let you forget the ache deep in your cunt.

Almost.

You need him.

"Wonnie,"

"yeah baby?"

"need you to touch me" Your voice is a mere whimper, you sound pathetic, but you can't bring yourself to care.

The corners of his lips turn up into a sly smirk, and you feel it against your skin. Wonwoo lifts his head, eyes finding yours, and you note a dangerous fire dancing behind his gaze.

His ankles hook over your own, trapping your legs under his as he spreads you open, completely at his mercy. You gasp, feeling your limbs move without your command, and Wonwoo mimics you, mocking your naive surprise.

"oh look at how pretty-" he mirrors your gasp, your wide-eyed expression, "all spread out for me, hm?"

For some reason, you can't bring yourself to bite back. Insults and snarky remarks flood your mind, and you chastise him internally, calling him an asshole, a cocky, arrogant idiot; but the sight in front of you brings you back to reality.

You like this- you like being mocked and ridiculed. You like being at his mercy, unable to control your body. The flush on your cheeks, the rapid rise and fall of your chest, tells you all you need to know.

Curse him in your head all you want, your body likes this.

Wonwoo let's his hand trail down, snaking past your collarbones, your tummy, just above the hem of your panties. You watch, transfixed, as his touch raises the tiny hairs on your body, creating a path of goosebumps.

A thick lump forms in your throat when he reaches where you need him most, and Wonwoo notices how your eyes are narrowed in on his hand.

"good girl, keep looking at yourself baby-" he breathes into your hair, sending a shudder down your spine.

Your heart swells at his praise, and you look at him, wide-eyed.

"hey," he warns, sliding a finger along your clothed slit before pressing down on your clit, "here. keep your eyes right here- you're gonna watch me fuck you,"

Your hips jerk up, jolting at the sudden stimulation, but his legs force you back down, pushing your body further against him.

Words escape you, your mouth feels dry, and your eyes snap back to the image of your clothed sex. The way his finger toys with your clit, teasing just enough, has you growing so desperate, you're willing to do just about anything to get him to touch you.

"Wonnie p-please," you shudder as his finger presses into you again, "please just- oh," Your voice breaks off into a broken moan when Wonwoo begins to rub firm circles into your clit.

The textured fabric of your lingerie adds an additional layer of stimulation to your nerves, sending sparks flying all over your skin like scattered fireworks.

"please?" he echoes, his tone mocking your own.

His fingers move faster, pushing down on your most sensitive spot, and you can't help but stare shamelessly at how effortlessly he plays with you.

Wonwoo reads the silent language of your body like no other, watching each crease in your forehead, each stutter of your hips to see what you need. Those long, slender fingers flick at you so easily, so deftly, it's as though he knows you better than you know yourself.

Soon enough, your clit throbs under his touch, and he knows you're close.

"oh sweetheart-" he coos, "I haven't even touched you yet-"

Your cunt clenches down at his condescending tone, anticipation building to a shocking crescendo. Just how far is he going to push you?

"m'gonna- fuck m'gonna cum-" you moan, head tipping back. Your legs twitch under his, and your thighs work tirelessly to press together, but in vain.

You're trapped.

"aw baby look," Wonwoo brings his free hand up to clasp your neck, forcibly turning your head straight. "so pretty like this- fuck you're shaking,"

Your eyes flick over your reflection, hazy as ever, and you feel your orgasm coming on. There's something so sexy about watching yourself come undone, watching Wonwoo spread you apart and use you like a little toy.

A wave of pleasure, approaching fast, washes over you as he works you up to your orgasm. The rough texture of your panties has you drooling, and soon enough, you're nerves ache from overstimulation.

"that's it, princess- so good for me,"

Wonwoo pushes the crotch of your panties aside, without warning, and dips two fingers into your cunt, pushing deep inside to collect your essence. Your body jolts in his embrace, thighs tensing with effort to squirm away from him, but again, there's no escaping.

"oh you taste like heaven," he groans, slipping his fingers into his mouth, licking up every drop he collected.

You find yourself entranced by the sight, watching him clean off his fingers, slipping his tongue so deftly between each digit, you can't help but wonder what it would feel like inside you.

Noticing the fascination with which you observe him, Wonwoo shoots you a sly smirk, letting your legs slip free.

'I know what you're thinking,'

"turn around,"

Your body moves on its own, following his voice, and you shift in his arms with your back to the mirror.

"now c'mere," he licks his lips, moving his hands to your waist, pulling you onto his thigh.

Within seconds, his lips are on yours, pressing needy, hungry kisses to your mouth. You can taste yourself on his tongue and it makes you dizzy, in dire need of more.

Air escapes you quicker than water in a broken dam, and you find yourself growing light-headed, pulling away for breath despite Wonwoo's grumbling.

When you draw back for the third time, he's beyond frustrated, groaning as his lips chase yours.

"get back here." he seethes, hands gripping the flesh of your waist, "right. fucking. now"

Your body, unfortunately, is slow to respond.

Wonwoo curses under his breath before flipping you over, arms straining as he lays you down as gently as he can.

You yelp, clutching onto his biceps like your very own safety belt, and your eyes widen at how easily he moves you.

"what are y-"

"can't have you running away," he smirks, tongue running along his lower lip.

Balancing his weight on one arm while bringing your hand to touch the other, Wonwoo repeats himself-

"if you want to stop, tell me. if that isn't possible-"

"tap twice, got it" you interrupt hastily, impatient as ever. He smiles fondly at you, a soft huff of laughter spilling past his lips.

"that's my girl,"

Your nails run over a thick vein jutting out from under his skin, and he swallows thickly, Adam's apple dipping low into his throat.

"you're really fucking distracting, y'know that?" he tuts, grabbing your hand and pinning it up above your head.

Before you can respond, Wonwoo captures your lips in a sloppy kiss, shoving his tongue past your lips, and exploring the expanse of your mouth fervently as if he's trying to memorize the way you feel, the way you taste.

The hand on your wrist loosens its grip and Wonwoo runs his fingers down the inside of your arm- ghosting a feathery touch over the sensitive skin.

"Won-" you whimper into his mouth, desperate for air, but he doubles down, pushing his lips closer to yours. Your helpless, muffled whines fill his ears and he can't help but grin against your lips.

'you make the prettiest sounds,'

Finally showing mercy, Wonwoo lets you breathe, moving from your lips to your chest, kissing his way down to your soaked panties.

"made a mess of these-" You can practically hear the smirk in his voice and you want nothing more than to smack it off, but you know he's right.

"you'll clean me up though, won't you?"

Silence.

Wonwoo sucks in a deep, composing inhale. His eyes meet yours, and your breath hitches. There's a deep, dark desire, an untameable lust behind the browns of his eyes, one that sends a shiver down your spine.

His fingers hook into your panties, tugging them off firmly, and his jaw clenches at the sight of your bare cunt.

"fuck-"

As if under a spell, Wonwoo finds himself drawn to you, placing his lips to your sex. He sticks a kiss to your slit before running his tongue along your folds and you know you're done for when your legs begin to twitch.

"oh please-" you whimper, hips bucking up into his tongue, and his lips twitch up. He brings his tongue to your hole, prodding it inside you, flicking in and out as his hand splays over your lower belly, thumbing your puffy clit.

Your jaw falls slack, hanging open, and your head lolls over to the side in pure ecstasy.

Wonwoo moves inside you with ease, pressing into every spot you need, rubbing lazy circles into your sensitive nerves. A choked moan claws its way up your throat, flooding the room, and Wonwoo knows he's doing something right.

All those nights studying you, the way you touched yourself, the things you seemed to like- they paid off in the end.

Your breathing grows unsteady and rapid, and he moves faster, pushes deeper into you, coaxing your orgasm out of you.

"f-fu- Wonnie m'gon-" you stutter, breathlessly, and he hums an affirmation, his voice sending waves reverberating through your nerves. The added stimulation of his voice, buzzing through you, is just enough to send you over the edge, and you cum on his tongue, back arching off the bed.

Unable to control the sounds escaping you, you're a whimpering, moaning jumble of nerves.

"that's it, baby-" he soothes, easing his tongue over your cunt, lapping up the remnants of arousal as you shudder uncontrollably. "taste so fuckin' good,"

Wonwoo kisses up your torso, settling on his knees to take his clothes off.

The white tank goes first, revealing his chiseled upper body, and your jaw drops. He looks unreal. The sweatpants are next, leaving him in a pair of fitted black boxers that cling to the width of his thighs and do little to hide his size.

"you're still okay with this?" he asks one last time, fingers halting at his boxers.

Stunned by the view, you nod dumbly, lips still parted in surprise.

"baby- I need wor-"

"yes! yes- yes I'm o-okay with this" you blurt out, swallowing the lump in your throat.

"do you hav-"

"I'm on the pill" The boxers are shucked off.

Oh my God.

The mattress dips under his weight, dimples forming under his knees and elbows as he hovers over you. Wonwoo places a chaste kiss to your forehead, aligning himself with your entrance before easing into you.

"you-you're so big-" you breathe, feeling the wind knocked out of your lungs. "Wonnie- oh my god"

Your eyes widen, brows knitting together as he pushes further and further, until he bottoms out inside you.

"shi-shit that's it- takin' me so good-" he hisses, clenching his teeth.

The girth of his cock has your walls stretching wide, trying desperately to accommodate him, and your eyes roll back. Wonwoo finds himself in a bit of a dilemma, unable to figure out whether to keep his eyes on your face, contorting in undeniable pleasure, or on your cunt being stuffed full by his cock.

With each thrust of his hips, you feel him move further, reaching deeper inside you until his tip nudges your cervix, coaxing out strangled moans on your part. The thick, pulsating vein running along the underside of his cock drags against your walls, and you feel him grow inside you- getting even bigger than before.

"W-onnie-" you mewl, words cut off by sharp gasps every time he slams back into you. "too big oh my g-"

"shh, you're takin' me so good doll, doin' so fucking good for me-" His voice is tainted with effort, each consonant ringing sharp and breathy as his lips ghost over yours.

Every fiber in your body buzzes with electricity, sweat glistens off of you like gold- you're on top of the world right now. The pleasure you feel in this moment is simply unparalleled. Nobody has, or ever will, come close.

Wonwoo's motions pick up speed, as he hooks his arm under your thigh, pulling it over his back- angling himself deeper into you, reaching spots you don't even know exist.

The first thrust with this newfound angle has both of your lips parting, breathing out shaky "oh"s against each other. Tears well in your eyes and you shake your head, breathing ragged and fast.

Wonwoo lets out a huff, smirking like he isn't gasping for breath the same way your are-

"that's it- I know you're close baby"

His hand leaves your thigh, rubbing zig-zag patterns into your clit, just enough to steal that orgasm out of you. The calloused pads of his fingers show no mercy, pressing directly on your nerves, and your hole spasms around him. You're certain you can feel your heartbeat where his finger presses, you can feel his too with the way his cock throbs inside you.

"so goddamn tight-" Wonwoo seethes, now feeling his own high approaching. He continues his motions on your clit, rubbing the sensitive bundle of nerves from left to right, until you finally give in with a sob.

"m'cumming oh fuc- oh fuck"

The muscles of your thighs tense momentarily, cunt clenching down hard around his cock, before you let go completely. A warm, prickly relaxation washes over you, and Wonwoo grunts, releasing himself inside you.

His thrusts slow to a halt, and he lets out an airy laugh, in disbelief. He stares down at your disheveled frame- flushed, sweaty skin, blown pupils, hair tangled up around your head.

"you're beautiful," he breathes, unable to hold his tongue, and you giggle, turning away bashfully.

Wonwoo tilts your chin back, pulling you to face him-

"I really like you, y/n,"

You smile, eyes shimmering up at him. "I like you more"

There's a brief pause as you gaze into each other's eyes, before you realise something.

"wait- how'd you know wh-"

"sixth sense" he grins, eyes carrying just a touch of madness. "I know everything."

#seventeen #seventeen smut #svt smut #smut #anon ask #jeon wonwoo #wonwoo #wonwoo smut #jeon wonwoo smut #yandere wonwoo #stalker wonwoo #send help #seventeen wonu

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space-cowgirllll · 4 months ago

Text

Right Where You Left Me

a/n: I was going to wait to post this but I had written a lot more than I thought the last time I touched this. A little lengthy bc I’m a yapper but here's part two of Tolerate It. I'M SORRYYYYY 🥹

The flurries Abby had seen as she walked into work this morning quickly turned into actual snowfall. Twelve hours later, everything around her is covered in a thick blanket of white snow. Traffic had been worse than usual, making her already shitty commute twice as long. A breath she hadn't realized she was holding leaves her when she finally pulls up to the curb in front of her home. She's safe. Forcing her frozen fingers to uncurl from the death grip she had on the steering wheel, she parks the car, cursing when she feels it slide just a little. She was due for a tropical vacation soon.

Despite her disdain for the snow, Abby can admit the quaint neighborhood looks beautiful. Thousands of multicolored lights adorn the houses and yards around her. Laughter from the kids having a snowball fight across the street fills the night air. Their giggles make Abby's heart feel a little lighter. A couple of her neighbors have their curtains drawn, displaying their immaculately decorated trees. It reminds her of those cheesy hallmark movies she secretly loves watching.

Abby cringes when she realizes her house is the only dark one on the street. In her mind she can see the purple Post-It still stuck to the fridge reminding her to pull the outdoor decor down from the attic and actually decorate. The red plastic tubs have been sitting at the top of the steps for weeks. She trips over them constantly, telling herself she'll get to them tomorrow, but it seems there were just never enough hours in the day. Eighty hour work weeks left little room for anything else- not that she had much going on. If she wasn't at the gym, or catching up on some much needed sleep, she was at the hospital.

Her head hits the steering wheel in defeat when she taps the screen on her phone and catches sight of the date. It's the twentieth of December.

"Too late to do anything about it now." She mumbles to herself. Her palms dig into her tired eyes. Today was truly the day from hell.

But the universe doesn't seem to be quite done with her just yet. Over the hum of her ac blowing she hears a familiar tune. Her head snaps to the radio in recognition. Her usual radio station has switched over to playing nothing but Christmas music for the night. It's your favorite song. Shit. Her shaky index finger blindly reaches for the button to kill the engine before throwing the door open, jacket forgotten in the passenger seat.

She shivers as she speed walks to her front door trying her hardest not to slip on the icy sidewalk. The straps of her work bags dig painfully into her right shoulder when she bends down to collect the multiple packages that had accumulated on her porch. After days of ignoring them, they were starting to block the doorway. But hey, at least this year she had gotten ahead on Christmas shopping.

These days it was all about the small wins. —

Abby drops the mattress she dragged out of the guest room in front of the fireplace with soft grunt. She hasn't done this in years, but she needs it today. This had been one of your favorite ways to unwind after a long week. Always there waiting for her with a big smile and her favorite snacks, a movie waiting to be played on the tv. In the later months of the year, around the holidays, Abby could always count on finding a pair of pajamas for her that matched yours laid out on your shared bed. She had always thought it was kind of silly when you had a perfectly good bed and tv upstairs. Now, she could only dream of coming home after a long day to a warm house and you bundled up in blankets waiting up for her.

It's quiet as she stares out the window watching snow fall. Her head is fuzzy from the wine and she knows she's going to regret it tomorrow. The movie she randomly picked half an hour ago is now muted. She can hear the distant buzzing of her personal phone from somewhere in the kitchen, but she can't be bothered. Calls from her family trying to confirm next weeks plans go ignored. Abby loves them, but the thought of being asked if she was ready to start dating again before trying to set her up with the friend of a friend for the fifth year in a row made her want to cancel her flight home. She can't stand the pity in their eyes every time they look at her.

Bleary eyes roam around the room, the sight of the unlit, half-decorated tree in the corner and the lone stocking missing its pair hanging off the mantle make her chest hurt in a way it hadn't in a while. It may not look like it, but she had tried. Most of the Christmas stuff actually made it out of the attic this year. Which is more than she can say for last year, and the years before that. She'd finally gotten the tree out and decorating had been going well, until she pulled out that ornament.

The little house you had custom made to look like a tiny replica of the first place the two of you were sharing as a married couple. Abby remembers how excited you'd been, staying up waiting for her to come home from a late night so you could open it together. The look in your eyes as you traced over the details, the names stamped on the back. You made her hold it as you hooked it onto the tree, wanting to do it together.

Her fingers trace over the pink floral pattern on the sheets. You'd picked these out, excited to host her parents over the thanksgiving holiday for the fist time. Abby didn't have the heart to change them out. Minus your personal things, she didn't have the heart to make any changes to your original decor. You'd made the house a home. Some nights she swears she can catch a whiff of your favorite candle, or the lavender spray you'd douse the pillows with before going to bed.

Abby gives up, shutting the tv off and settling into her pillow, ready for today to be over. She can't help but feel silly laying here in the dark by herself. Nights like this had been more fun with you around. Everything in her life had been more fun with you around.

You made Abby's life magical, she just hadn't realized it until it was too late. ---------------------------

Abby watches you push your food around your plate out of the corner of her eye. The scraping of the fork makes it hard to focus on the conversation happening in front of her. Would it kill you to at least try to look interested? Her hand lands on your upper thigh, squeezing lightly to get your attention. The two of you exchange subtle glares.

It isn't until her colleagues retreat back to their own table that she finally looks at you. You're swirling the ice in your drink around with a straw. Your gaze fixed on the window, staring out at the busy street. She had thought a nice dinner at your favorite restaurant would soften you up a little, but with how little you've spoken all night and your plate still full, she's starting to worry.

After an explosive fight the morning after she'd forgotten your wedding anniversary, you'd been distant. In all the years Abby had known you, she could count on one hand the amount of times you'd fought, and even then the two of you could never stay away for long. Communication was one of the things you prided yourself on the most, never wanting to go to bed angry at each other. But it's been three weeks and Abby realizes she's really fucked up.

"Alright, what's going on with you?"

"Oh, now you notice." You retort. Her eyebrows knit together, surprised at the thinly veiled anger in your voice.

"You're so dramatic." She huffs. "What's that supposed to mean?"

Your eyes shift to the side, teeth gnawing on your bottom lip. She can practically see the gears turning in your head. You're holding your tongue.

"Abigail, let's not do this right now." You beg. "Please."

"No. We're going to talk now." She speaks lowly, grateful for the little privacy the corner table provided. "Sitting in silence isn't going to make this go away. Stop being childish and tell me how to fix this."

You looked her in the eye, no longer seeing the person you fell in love with. Knowing that if you stayed you'd end up losing yourself in someone who couldn't love you the way you deserved anymore. There was no way you could have the family you wanted with someone who constantly prioritized their work, making you feel like you were the distraction.

Your lips part on a shaky exhale. You can't keep lying awake at night contemplating this. You have to do it now. From the corner of your eye you can see the couple at the table closest to you subtly lean towards you.

Abby leans back in her seat waiting for you to speak up. Her arms folded across her chest. The way her leg bounces up and down gently shakes the table. Something about the dejected look in your eyes makes her panic inside.

"I want a divorce."

---------

Department store wrapping stations were a small luxury Abby didn't mind spending the money on. She wasn't the best gift wrapper, often leaving rips or weird folds on anything that wasn't shaped like a box.

She stands in line with all the other last minute shoppers, people watching when her eyes fall on the last person she thought she'd ever see again. Abby swears she must be dreaming. Her knees nearly buckle when she sees you standing there slowly making your way through a rack of baby clothes. A little boy no younger than two perched on your hip, his leg trying to sit comfortably against the small swell of your stomach. He's a carbon copy of his mother. Abby sees you wherever her eyes land on his face.

Your hair is longer, framing your pretty face. There's a glow to you that she doesn't remember seeing in those last two years of your marriage. Your eyes are tired but bright, even from here Abby can see the way they sparkle when you stare at the little boy in your arms. Nothing like the cold way you'd looked at her that fateful night.

Her heartbeat pounds in her ears as she steps out of line, making her way to a more secluded section of the store. Hiding behind a tie display she watches you interact with your son. For a moment she pretends that you're still hers and that the last five years didn't happen. Pretends that she didn't fuck up the best thing that had ever happened to her. God, she feels like a delusional creep.

A tall woman walks up behind you, making a silly face at your toddler. You smile when he reaches out for her, trading the boy for the to-go cup she was holding out to you. Abby doesn't have to guess what you're drinking. She knew how much you hated coffee, preferring hot chocolate to keep you warm in the colder months. Her stomach bottoms out when you raise the cup to your lips.

A ring that isn't hers sits on your finger.

Abby didn't realize how big of a gut punch that would feel like. While you still spoke to her parents from time to time, they made sure not to relay any information to her. She knew you wouldn't stay single forever, but actually seeing you like this ripped apart whatever was left of her heart.

You'd gone silent on social media since the split. A new and private Instagram account was all she could find one night after she'd been drinking a little too much. She'd cried herself to sleep, wanting nothing more than to be a part of your world again.

She studies your wife, who's everything Abby isn't. Her long brown hair is pulled back in a loose bun, the pink knit beanie on her head matches the scarf currently wrapped around your neck. Dark eyes watch your face intently with a smile as you hold up a onesie to her. Abby looks down at her old college sweats and worn sneakers, nothing like the well put together outfit she's wearing. The woman even looks like she gets more than five hours of sleep each night for crying out loud.

She looks happy. Something Abby hasn't been for a long time.

And judging by the way you're looking at her, like she hangs the stars in the sky, Abby can see how happy you are. She bites the inside of her cheek, refusing to remember what it felt like to have you look at her that way. Tears prickle in her eyes as you make your way down to the front of the store, dramatically blowing kisses at the giggling toddler being carried just a few steps ahead of you. One of your hands rubbing softly at your bump.

Abby startles when you look back towards the men's section, eyes going straight to the tiny display she stood behind. Of course you spotted her. You lock eyes with her. There's a tiny smile on your face watching her come out of her shitty hiding spot. For a moment you two stand there just staring at each other. Abby's aware you probably look crazy to anyone watching but she can't bring herself to care.

Those are my sweats. You mouth. Abby releases a watery chuckle she doubts you hear. She looks down, finally noticing the nail polish stain just under her knee. It's purple. Your favorite color.

The sound of an alarm brings you both back to reality. You give her one last smile, waving as you walk out the doors and into the chilly December air. Her eyes follow you as you cross the street, until you get lost in a large crowd of people.

Watching you walk away this time feels like a final goodbye. You’d always have a place in your heart for Abby, no longer feeling any resentment towards her. She had been too young and selfish to love you the way you deserved. She can see you've found that. And while she's happy for you, she can't help the tears that spill out once she's in the safety of her car.

There's a bittersweet feeling in knowing that the world didn't stop spinning for you the way it did for her the day you walked out of her life.

#abby tlou #abby anderson #abby anderson x reader #abby the last of us #abby x you #abby anderson angst #abby anderson x female reader #abby tlou2

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iinterstellaarr · 6 days ago

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imagine having a crush on highschool!suguru geto…

you were always able to hear him before you saw him. okay, maybe not him, but definitely his best friend. it was hard to ever see suguru alone, he was usually attached at the hip with satoru or hanging around shoko. although, at night, he was always with you

the air was crisp on your cheeks and the sound of your shoes crunching against the snow was one of the only sounds you could hear. two drinks clinked together in your plastic shopping bag when you made it to the park by your house. the swings swung gently against the cold wind. to some, the sight was eerily reminiscent of those liminal spaces you’d see online, but to you, this was a place of comfort. you found your spot on the middle swing and kicked your legs back and forth gently.

this was your routine. you’d go to the convenience store, grab a drink for you and suguru and you’d talk. his voice always calmed you down after a long day of school work and you could tell letting him vent his frustrations or even just have someone else to talk too helped.

“hey.” his hair draped over his face with a sort of elegance, although his eyes said anything but. he always looked tired. that was the first thing you noticed about sugurus eyes, well, second to the piercing black color of them.

“i was wondering where you were,” you pulled out a green tea and gently handed it to him as he sat on the swing next to you

“satoru wanted to play overwatch and i told him i was going to bed soon so i couldn’t.” he tucked the long bangs away from his face while he talked to you, it was almost like he was pulling away the curtain he put up around everyone else.

“ooo, bad boy lying to his best friend to go sneak out and meet a girl? how would satoru ever manage if he found out?” you dramatically drapped your hand across your forehead with faux worry. his lips tugged into a small smile at your antics

“he’d be just fine if he knew” suguru rolled his eyes and chuckled. his laughter was deep and it made your chest feel like it was vibrating. something about suguru held such an intense mystery. it was a miracle you and him became so close, and it’s a miracle he let you in close enough to grow a blooming crush for you.

“no, i’m quite sure he’d go up to you tomorrow with bright red cheeks and huff about your treacherous ways.” you hypothesized, satoru was always one for the theatrics, even if he never meant all the drama that came with him. it made you smile when you’d see him and suguru standing next to each other. suguru had an aura of mystery while satorus mystery was a deeper issue that he angrily pushed to the side, that much of satoru you could read. the rest was written in a different language from your mother tongue unfortunately.

suguru laughs and it sends you to another planet. his small chuckle always means the world too you, even if you hear it all the time.

“he’ll be fine. i promise.” he tips his head back and takes a sip of the drink you brought. you look out onto the snowy playground and reminisce on the times you and suguru would come here as kids.

“we’ve known each other for a while, huh?” you looked over at suguru who seemed to be remembering as well

“yeah, i remember when you thought it’d be a good idea to jump off that slide and broke your arm.” he pointed to a curly yellow slide and you huffed

“oh give me a break, i was like seven” he shrugged and turned to you, smiling

“and i told you it was a bad idea, but no,” you pushed him slightly and he steadied his swing with his long legs.

“i can’t believe we’re gonna be graduating soon” you stand up with a huff and walk over to the play set with a sad smile

“just 5 more months, then me and satoru will become sorcerers and you’re gonna have to get a real job” he follows you, his shoes crunching in the thin layer of frost with each step

“i’m sad.” you looked back at suguru who seemed confused

“why?” he watched as you lightly touched the shiny yellow slide, the plastic freezing under your touch.

“we’re gonna become strangers”

“whoah, who said anything about that?” he almost looked offended you would suggest he would forget you

“well, you’ll be busy with all the sorcerers stuff. i’m gonna be busy with…life. there’s gonna be hardly any time to hang out.” you shrug slightly

“well yeah, but we’ll make time”

“we hardly make time now. these meetings are the only time we actually see each other.” you sat down on the cool slide, suguru crouching in front of you

he seemed lost for words, or maybe lost in thought? you could never read him which pissed you off to no end. you wished you could jump in his brain and see exactly what he was thinking

“we’ll run away.”

you laugh curtly at his suggestion

“i’m being serious, fuck all the sorcery shit. me and you, we’ll run away.”

you never took his suggestion seriously

that was until he actually did run away,

forgetting you in the process.

#geto suguru #jujutsu geto #jjk #angst #oneshot #suguru geto #geto x reader #jjk geto #geto x you #geto x y/n #jjk x reader #jjk fanfic #jjk angst

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embbarnes · 3 months ago

Text

Cut Your Hair.

summary: You help Bucky cut his hair.

warnings: Comfort | Mentions PTSD & past trauma | Post!Endgame

a/n: I wanted to write a blurb exploring the emotions around his hair for fun. I imagine this time frame is after Endgame, you are living in his apartment in NY. I used a lot of symbolism because I love to include it in fics. Anywayy unedited, so ignore mistakes. wc: 2.3k

You returned to your apartment after a particularly fruitful grocery shopping trip, managing to get all the necessary items for your planned dinner. New York had been experiencing a notable shortage of certain food products recently, so you felt especially fortunate to have acquired all the ingredients on your list. The scarcity had made simple shopping trips feel like treasure hunts, with each found item a small victory.

As you entered the living space, your arms laden with bags full of your culinary prizes, you called out, "Bucky? I'm back!" Your voice carried a mix of excitement about your successful foraging and the slight strain of carrying multiple heavy bags. With a relieved huff, you practically dropped your burdens onto the kitchen counter, the plastic rustling as it settled. You looked forward to telling him of your success, but you hadn’t heard him reply.

The apartment remained eerily quiet in response to your call. The silence was unusual and slightly unsettling, given that Bucky was typically quick to greet you upon your return. Your brow furrowed in confusion and a hint of concern as you scanned the room, anxiety began to creep its way through your body while an assortment of negative thoughts flooded your mind. "Bucky?" you called out again, your voice tinged with a note of uncertainty.

Still, nothing.

Now you started to worry.

You cautiously maneuvered around the counter, your footsteps deliberately quiet as you navigated through the dimly lit living space. The short hallway stretched before you, leading to the bathroom and one of the bedrooms. Your heart raced with each step, the silence of the apartment amplifying every small sound. As you approached, a sliver of light caught your eye - the bathroom door was slightly ajar, a warm glow spilling out into the darkened corridor. A wave of relief washed over you, causing your tense muscles to relax ever so slightly. You exhaled deeply, your hand instinctively moving to your chest as if to calm your pounding heart.

"Bucky," you called out, your voice a mixture of relief and lingering apprehension, "Shit... you really scared me there." The words hung in the air, met only by an eerie silence. Seconds ticked by, and still, there was no response from behind the partially open door. A creeping sense of unease began to settle in the pit of your stomach as you stood there, waiting for a reply that didn't come.

"James?" Your voice quivered with concern as you gently rapped your knuckles against the door. Hesitantly, you pushed it open, the hinges creaking softly. The sight that greeted you made your heart ache in your chest. There he stood, hunched over the bathroom sink, his posture a blatant portrait of distress. His hands, knuckles white with tension, gripped the edges of the ceramic basin as if it were a lifeline. You worried his metal hand would break the fragile ceramic but it looked like he had more self control for the moment. Bucky's head hung low, curtained by the long strands of his hair that fell forward, obscuring his face from view. The absence of his shirt revealed the taut muscles of his back, adorned with long scars, each one rigid and fairly faded, but still there.

No matter what he did to try to scrap them away, they were still there.

Your eyes were drawn to his hair, the ends were jagged and uneven, as though hacked at in a moment of impulse or desperation. Littering the bottom of the sink were the casualties of this impromptu haircut: dark locks intermingled with the gleam of small fabric scissors, splayed against the white porcelain. The air hung heavy with an unspoken tension, leaving you frozen in the doorway, unsure of how to proceed.

"Bucky...what did you do?" You inquired softly, your voice barely above a whisper. Your hand moved with cautious deliberation, gently alighting on his shoulder. The moment your fingers made contact, you felt his muscles tense beneath your touch, a reflexive response to the unexpected contact. However, within seconds, the tension melted away as he seemed to recognize you.

Silence hung heavy in the air for what felt like an eternity. Bucky remained motionless, his gaze fixed downward, avoiding eye contact, but eventually he lifted his head ever so slightly. His icy eyes, brimming with an unspoken emotion, met yours in the reflection of the mirror before you. He looked so distressed, his face splotchy and flushed with an angry red, eyes were puffy and swollen from the tears had been running down his face before you came in. His bottom lip protruded slightly in a dejected pout, completing the picture of a man clearly grappling with some internal turmoil.

"What happened?" You prompted again, you kept your voice low and patient. Your words came out as a soothing murmur, not wanting to cause any distress to him, since he was clearly struggling. You felt his body tremble under your hand, your heart broke seeing him like this.

"Don't..." he began, his voice trembling with apprehension. He paused, swallowing hard as if to gather courage before continuing, "Don't be mad..." The words escaped his lips in a barely audible whisper, laden with fear. His entire demeanor spoke volumes, suggesting he was terrified of your potential reaction to something he had done or was about to reveal.

You felt your brow furrow involuntarily as you processed his words, your eyes instinctively seeking out his face once more. The fear etched across his features only deepened your concern.

"Why would I be angry?" you asked, your tone soft and reassuring. "You haven't done anything." Your words were meant to soothe, to dispel the cloud of anxiety that seemed to envelop him. However, your attempt at comfort appeared to have little effect.

He shook his head vigorously in response, the sudden movement causing several stray locks of hair to cascade from his head, pieces he had evidently cut himself - some still clinging stubbornly to his remaining hair.

"Because you cut your hair?" you asked, your voice a mixture of concern and curiosity. The question hung in the air, heavy with unspoken emotions.

He nodded weakly, sniffling to clear his nose. The gesture was small, but it spoke volumes about his emotional state. You sighed softly, the sound barely audible in the quiet room. You reached up and ran your fingers through his still long, but much shorter locks, noting how they now only reached his jaw in some spots, and past his shoulders in others. The texture was different, unfamiliar from the choppy cuts he gave to his hair, clearly indicating his anger towards it.

"You've let it grow out a bit," you observed, your tone careful and neutral. Your fingers continued their soothing motion, offering comfort without words. After a moment of contemplation, you spoke again, your voice soft and reassuring. "I'm not mad, you know. It’s your body, you can do whatever you want with yourself, remember?" You paused, considering your next words carefully. "Do you want some help with it? Maybe we could style it together, find a look you really love, instead of letting you stay like this."

He remained silent for a beat, contemplating your words with a furrowed brow. The weight of his long, unkempt hair seemed to press down on him, both physically and emotionally. An overwhelming desire to rid himself of this burden consumed his thoughts. He yearned to feel the liberating sensation of shorter hair, to shed the heaviness that had settled upon him like a thick, suffocating blanket. In his mind, cutting his hair felt liberating. He had been stripped of all bodily autonomy for so long, this was something he wanted to do. For himself.

His head inclined, giving a sharp nod. "Yes...yes, please..." he replied with a soft rasp, "Cut it all."

You were certainly no professional hairdresser, but with the assistance of a few hastily searched tutorial videos on YouTube, you managed to grasp the basic concepts and techniques. The shorter hairstyle he wanted alleviated a lot of pressure you had to make it perfect, so a quick cut and shave would be easy compared to any sort of specific styling. As he settled into the chair you pulled into the bathroom, you grabbed the scissors and let out a deep breath to calm yourself.

Carefully, you began the process of trimming away at his dark, lustrous locks, cutting the long pieces away with scissors first before you'd clean it with a buzzer. Each calculated snip was made carefully, regularly checking in with him to make sure he was still doing fine. You found yourself completely engrossed in the task, paying close attention to maintain an even trim.

The freshly cut strands danced through the air for a brief moment before gently descending to the cool tile floor of the bathroom. Upon contact with the ground, the severed locks curled and twisted, creating an abstract pattern around his feet. The contrast of the dark hair against the light-colored tiles made your heart throb, the meaning behind cutting his hair away was much deeper than any outside eye could comprehend.

You didn't notice his tears at first, but as more of his hair fell away, the evidence of his emotional turmoil became undeniable. His shoulders quivered beneath the weight of his feelings, the internal struggle becoming more visible to you. You maintained your composure, focusing on the task at hand, your fingers steady as they continued to work through his locks. Dark tear trails etched paths down his cheeks, struggling with handling it all on his own.

When you finally reached for the electric clippers, the soft click as you turned them on echoed in the silence of the bathroom. He closed his eyes then, a gesture of surrender or perhaps trust, allowing you to proceed with this final, most drastic stage of the cut. The gentle vibration of the buzzer filled the air, a constant, reassuring hum that seemed to ground you both in the present moment. Bucky gave the occasional sniffle, the emotional undertones of this act filled both of you.

With a final buzz, you switched off the clippers and gently placed them in the sink. Your fingers glided through his freshly trimmed hair, feeling the soft, short strands beneath your touch. The cut was perfect - a smile played on your lips as you admired your handiwork, you were proud of yourself. "Wow..." you breathed, your voice barely above a whisper, "You look just like that old photograph I have of you. It's like stepping back in time." Your words were soft and full of gentle admiration. Softly, you encouraged him to open his eyes, eager to see his reaction to his new look.

"What do you think, sergeant?" you asked, your voice tinged with anticipation as you waited for him to fully take in his reflection. As he gazed into the mirror, a profound sense of unfamiliarity washed over him. The face staring back was simultaneously familiar and foreign, he didn’t react like you expected but honestly…what did you expect? He looked disoriented and unsettled by his own reflection.

It felt so... strange, almost surreal. The sensation was akin to looking at a photograph of a long-lost relative, recognizing traces of familiarity but ultimately confronting the reality of a stranger. It felt like he were dreaming, seeing a resemblance of the man he once was - a version of himself that now seemed to belong to a distant, unreachable past.

The realization that this former self was now forever out of reach hit him with unexpected force. He knew he’d never be the person he was again, but seeing himself like this just…felt so sudden. Bucky felt the sick twinge of grief, as if he just lost a dear friend or a beloved family member, but the person he was mourning was his former self.

He had once cherished his former self, but that version of Bucky had long since vanished. HYDRA, black tendrils wrapped around him with its insidious grasp, had extinguished his essence, snuffing out his very being like a feeble, flickering ember desperately clinging to life in the face of an unforgiving winter storm.

Bucky found himself irrevocably altered. No longer was he the vibrant, spirited individual of his past, now reduced to nothing more than a charred remnant of his former self - a piece of blackened charcoal, devoid of the warmth and light that had once defined him. The flames of his identity, once burning bright with passion and purpose, had been mercilessly extinguished, leaving behind only the cold, lifeless ashes of who he used to be.

The cold consumed him, trapping him in a relentless, chilling embrace. Cryo never truly left him, the sensation continued to maintain its icy hold on him, refusing to let go. But, you...you were what he needed more than anything else in the world. You taught him what it was like to have a gentle touch, to be loved and cared for no matter what he did in his past.

You were patient.

You were loving.

You were nurturing.

You helped him throughout his long and dreary recovery, standing by his side throughout every visit to the doctor or hospital, the endless nights where he couldn’t sleep, the panic attacks that left his throat raw and eyes burning. When the days seemed darkest for him, you were there to thaw the ice that had frozen him for so long.

Winter slowly began to surrender to the bloom of spring, and you were the greatest force of nature he knew.

Bucky's voice emerged as a soft whisper after several minutes spent silently staring at his reflection in the mirror, the steady stream of tears cascading down his face had been completely unnoticed to him. You gently wiped the tears away, your thumbs tenderly brushing against his cheekbones as you dried them with care and affection.

“It’s perfect..”

Thanks for reading. -em 🌿

Dividers by @/strangergraphics | Cover images from Pinterest

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes one shot #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes fanfic #the winter soldier #the winter soldier x reader #the winter soldier x you #winter soldier #winter soldier x reader #winter soldier x you #james buchanan barnes #james buchanan barnes x you #james buchanan barnes x reader #james buchanan bucky barnes #emwrites🌿

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fashionteahouse · 21 days ago

Text

out of your league - paul x reader

AN: thank you guys for loving up the last twenty parts xoxoxo <<prev >>next

You cried all night. You didn’t even go to sleep because before you knew it, the sunlight was peaking from the sides of the blackout curtains. You had watched the room transition from nighttime to daytime through your tears.

You lay face down in a pillow when a loud knock was heard. You ignored it. You didn’t have the energy to move. It knocked more rapidly and louder. You groaned and kicked your covers off. You swing the door open and Alice looked at you in horror.

“Why aren’t you dressed?!” she says peering at you in a high octave tone. Your wrinkled pajamas was hugged to your body.

You slump your shoulders as she swiftly made her way into your room. Your light was now on and you squint and block the light with your hand.

“You look horrible.” she comments.

“Thanks.” you say sarcastically but quietly because you had no energy left. You even ran out of tears.

She unzipped the plastic bag that held your outfit and laid the handmade clothes on your bed.

“Let’s go. Larry’s not going to stay long.” she says.

After spitting out the toothpaste, you tried your best to wash your face and seen that your eyes showed that you were crying all night. You sit with your arms crossed when you were finally dressed. It fit you perfectly. You crossed your legs since you had on a skirt.

She reaches forward to place concealer under your eyes but you lean back.

“Y/N, you and I both know you look like a zombified mess.” she says.

You sigh as you place your hands on your knee, “I just want to drop this paper off so I can sulk some more.” you say.

Alice does look concerned as she observed your sad face and demeanor. She sets everything down and places her hands on your shoulders.

“I told you it will hurt. You just have to keep pushing. Things are going to lighten up.”

“That’s tough to believe.” you say with a sigh you eventually let her dab on the coverage on your face with her finger.

Alice skips outside with you as you both come out of the hotel. She follows you as you scoot into the car.

“You didn’t have to come.” you say to Edward who is in the backseat as well.

He doesn’t say anything as Alice is now on the opposite side of you, closing the car door shut on her side. His eyes are stuck at what you have on. You decide to stare straight ahead as the driver worked the wheel.

Larry really was only there to stop in, take his messages and leave. He was very pleased to see you as he gladly takes the paper out of your hands.

He tells you with a confident smile, “I think we will be a great team.”

You force a friendly smile and thank him again for the opportunity. As you leave out, you realize it’s been set in stone. There’s definitely no turning back now. You walk in the opposite direction as Edward and Alice.

You just wanted some coffee.

The shop was small and cozy and you were glad that it wasn’t overcrowded.

As the steam rises out of your cup, both hands are placed on either sides of your mug as you peer down at it. Edward chose to follow you, sitting down across from you at the small table, silently. He watched you zone out a bit as you just sit there staring at the brown liquid.

“You’re not going to eat?” he asks as he watched you.

You shake your head.

“You’re beating your body up.” he says softly.

“Good. I deserve it.” you say back.

“You can’t punish yourself.” he says. He places two hands on the table and relaxes them.

“And why not?” you say nastily as you glare at his face. His voice is still calm when he speaks again.

“You did nothing bad.” he says. You don’t say anything.

Some time passed as you take a small sip. You look to your side out of the window. As you shifted your leg to overlap your other one, you noticed his leg was a bit close to yours as he stretched his out some.

You check the time. You were supposed to board your plane an hour ago. You sigh softly.

“Alice canceled the other leg.” he explains as he watched you set your phone down.

“Great.” you whisper out as you continue to watch the window.

You watch as people walk and some even run past. You notice the clouds starting to form with one another, darkening the sky a bit.

You blinked as your eyesight started to fade in and out. You rise up as you start to feel your mouth water.

Luckily the bathroom was for one person, leaving you to fling the door closed. You heaved over the toilet, bending over as nothing came out. You clutched your stomach as it kept pressing itself in, trying to find something to reject. You whimper at the feeling, letting the excess saliva fall into the toilet instead.

You bend your knees, squeezing your eyes shut as you continue to hold your stomach.

You heard a soft knock and a voice following it, “Y/N, are you alright?”

“I’m fine.” you say softly, still trying to focus on not being nauseous, “I will be out in just a minute.”

You rise after some time, you rinse your face with cold water. You were feeling a bit overheated. You dab your face dry with a paper towel and looked into the mirror.

You barely recognized yourself. This was not the person who left La Push. This was not the person who came here with high hopes.

You didn’t know if you were overreacting, but you looked close to being dead. Alice’s placement of the concealer made you feel thankful.

You made sure your legs were steady as you came out of the bathroom, Edward was waiting nearby.

“Are you alright?” he asks again and places a hand on a spot on your back.

“Yes.” you say. You have a seat again.

“You really should eat something. The coffee will only curb your appetite.” he says to you.

You don’t listen as you continue to sip on it, the liquid now being a cool room temperature. You didn’t set the mug down until a brown ring was at the bottom of it.

“It’s going to rain.” Edward says as he takes off his jacket and follows you out the door.

“What a day.” you comment as you didn’t have an umbrella. Just the stylish clothes that Alice had made for you. You cross your arms as you continue to walk.

He raised and wrapped it around you, covering your head perfectly, and in the nick of time, rain fell down onto you.

“You’re going to get wet.” you say to him as he’s walking with you closer next to him.

“It’s alright. I can’t get sick but, you can.” he says with a soft grin.

He opens the car door, you bend down and carefully slide into the car, and he follows in after you, closing the car door.

You lean your head back as the patter hits the windows and the driver works the wheel.

You sit up after some time, noticing the route was not back to your hotel room. You look to Edward. He looks to you.

“Alice had to check you out.” he says.

“I hope she didn’t forget anything.” you say, shaking your head a bit.

“This is Alice we are talking about.” he says and you couldn’t argue with that.

“So…Why are we here?” you ask as the brake screeches in front of the penthouse that stood tall.

“She has your things.” he says and grabs his jacket and holds it for you to come out.

You don’t even feel the rain as you walk in.

Edward unlocks and open the door and Alice is right at your face. She pulls you into the home.

“I know you did something.” you tell her as she smiles.

“I did.” she says in a quirky tone. You flop down on the large couch, “Where’s my things?” you ask.

“In the spare room. Guess what? I got you an apartment!” she says and smiles brightly.

“Alice!” you say with widened eyes.

“Before you freak out, it’s month to month.” she says but you shake your head.

“I was going to pay for the extra time being here at the hotel.”

“You don’t want your own space? I mean the hotel was nice and all but, you’re going to be working and you need your own space to I don’t know..Move around.” she says to you.

“What am I going to do with you?” you say shaking your head.

“Love me!” she says comically and she zips out of the room and comes back in with a blanket.

“Lay down Y/N. Sleep.” she says to you.

“I’m actually not tired anymore.” you say as you blink and don’t feel the heaviness in your eyes.

“I’m not going for that.” she says as you lay down comfortably. The blanket is over your body.

“Me and Jazz are only going out hunting. When you wake up, we will get you something to eat.” she tells you and you nod. She looks up to her brother who standing over the couch.

“Are you coming?” she asks him.

He slightly shakes his head as he comes around the sofa.

“I’m fine, I’ll go later on. I’m good right now.” he says and takes a seat on the opposite side of you.

“Okay.” she says to him. She turns her attention back onto you and places a hand on your forehead, “Y/N. Sleep.”

“Yes, mommy dearest.” you say.

This brings out a smirk from Alice and a chuckle from Edward. She’s out of the room.

“Can I watch tv?” you ask and sit up on your elbows.

“Y/N.” Edward says and shakes his head slightly with a grin.

“Come on, please?” you slightly poke your lip out before smiling.

He fakes a tired sigh before saying, “Fine. But, I’m turning on what to watch.”

“What?” you say as you slump back down.

“I can either turn on a movie or the news channel.” he teases.

“The movie it is.” you quietly say.

The black and white picture comes into view. You watch as a man drives with a cigarette hanging out of his mouth with two hands on the steering wheel. An old piano is heard to be playing as the character does so.

“What’s this?” you ask at the clearly old movie.

“Le petit soldat.” he answers in perfect french pronunciation.

“It better not be boring.” you quietly say.

“If it’s boring, you will sleep.” he whispers as he watched the screen.

You continue to watch anyway. Watching as the male character brings out a camera from the backseat of his car, aiming and shooting at the couple who’s kissing in front of a sign.

“Aimez-vous les uns les autres”

You only knew what it said because of the class you took when you were a freshman in high school.

“Love one another”

You began to yawn as he drove away.

The french male narration follows you into your dreams. You dreamed of Paul. You dreamed of his face. You reached out to him and he simply ignored you. You felt like crying but you couldn’t bring yourself to. You moved forward but an invisible glass was blocking you. He doesn’t look up but you yelled but no sound came out and you banged against the glass with all of your might.

You woke up to a dark room. The tv glowing back at you with something else on. You sit up a bit after rubbing your eyes to find Edward taking his eyes off of the television and onto you.

“How did you sleep?” he asks.

“I slept well.” you say, refusing to say alright.

“Are you hungry? The rain slowed up.” he says.

“It’s still daytime?” you ask.

“No. It’s dusk.” he says to you.

You go to move your sock covered legs and feet, only to find them resting very close to his lap.

You knit your eyebrows a bit as you slowly rise up and stretch your arms out.

“I still feel like I got hit by a bus.” you comment.

“Still?”

“Yeah.” you say, “I need an umbrella. Just in case.”

“I have one.” he says as he takes one out of the coat closet.

“Never mind.” you mutter and slide on the loafers that you had taken off earlier.

You slide on your jacket. As you walk into the streets, the drizzle fell over the umbrella that Edward held.

You immediately felt lightheaded. You didn’t know what else to do, so you clutched onto his arm. Edward looked down at you in slight perturbation.

“Are you alright?” he asks.

“I don’t know. I feel weird.” you say as you clutch his arm a bit tighter. Your vision started to be unfocused again as you started to not see what was in front of you.

You felt him direct you in somewhere, when you sit down you breathed out a small sigh as you rubbed your eyes.

“We got seated that quick?” you ask as you looked around the restaurant.

“I was worried. You really need to eat something. I had to do what I had to do.” he says as he looked at his arm that was resting on the table.

The waitress soon comes over with a big smile, mostly to Edward. Taking a look at her dazed face, you knew what he did. She leaves off to get you a drink and you lean forward, “Did you..?”

He nods. The thing was, he didn’t feel sorry about it in the slightest.

You felt the same feeling from earlier then. You rise up but you had to hold the table to keep your balance.

You felt a cool hand on your hand.

“Y/N?”

“I just need to go to the restroom.” you rush out as you tried your best to rush through the restaurant to find a bathroom.

You couldn’t make it into the stall before you dry heaved again over the sink. Nothing could come up as your body pressed against you. You clutch the sink as you leaned forward.

You take your phone out of your jacket and you so badly wanted to click on his contact. But, you knew that he would tell you to come home. You set it down on the sink and you noticed that the stall doors were open. You breathed out a sigh of relief that you had some type of privacy.

You looked into the mirror and you looked as if you were about to pass out at any given moment.

You hear a loud buzz. Picking it up, you immediately answer.

“Hello?”

“What’s going on Y/N?”

“Sam, what do you mean?”

“Paul won’t tell me anything. I thought you were supposed to come home yesterday.” he speaks out.

“Yeah um..It was a mixture of things. I accepted a real good opportunity which is making me stay here longer. And…I heard about the threat that you guys have to deal with.” you explain.

“It has to be more than that. He tried to test my authority. I didn’t want to but, I had to make him submit all over again.” he says and it was a voice of a man who’s tired.

“It’s my fault. He really wanted me to come home. I..” you say and sigh before closing your eyes.

“Can I speak to him? Is he around?” you ask.

“He hasn’t phased out since yesterday.” he tells you.

“Well…Can you tell him that…I do care about him…I didn’t want to hurt him.” you say sadly.

“I can tell him. I think what really ticked him on edge was that Emily left to see her mother and she was able to come back. He kept saying ‘she left me’ before he snapped.” he tells you.

You felt your heart drop as you knew that wasn’t the reason before shaking your head, “I didn’t leave him. I swear I didn’t. I really will be back soon I just have to work here for a while.”

“What’s a while?”

“A year.” you say after you scratch your eyebrow with one finger.

“A year?! Y/N. No wonder he’s going crazy.” he says with a deep sigh.

“What?” you say in confusion.

“His wolf can’t be away from his imprint that long. He’s right, you do need to come home.”

“Sam, that’s not fair. You of all people should know how much this means to me! I go home and what? Worry every five seconds about whether or not he makes it back safe and alive? This opportunity is the main reason why I didn’t even go to college!” you say as you pace a bit with the phone stuck to your ear.

“I get it. I completely do.” he says stoically.

“No. You don’t. You’re sounding just like him!” you say in frustration.

“You can’t expect normalcy in the supernatural world. It sounds unfair, I know, but it’s just the reality. It’s what comes with it. When you accepted the imprint, you agreed to accept everything that comes with it. I was feeling what he was feeling when Emily was gone as well. You don’t get it, Y/N. The imprint balances the wolf so that means with you away, especially for a long period of time, he can go rogue.” he says carefully.

“I have to do this, Sam.” you say.

“Just think about what I said. Just please think about it. In a situation like this, we really need to stick together. We can’t afford our pack being broken apart over a cold one.” he says.

“I will. I give you respect, so I will.” you sincerely say. He seems pleased with this as he wishes you well and adds, “If anything doesn’t seem right or if you don’t feel right, please, please, please don’t hesitate to call me.”

You agree.

Edward looks at you as you have a seat.

“Are you alright?”

“Yes. I’m afraid you’re right. I am beating up my body.” you say in defeat.

“I ordered you something simple.” he tells you.

“I was gone for that long?” you say and put your head in your hands. He nods.

You ate all of your food in one sitting, you felt slightly better. But, not all the way better. You didn’t understand. You had gotten rest, you ate, so why did you feel uneasy still? You, however, didn’t make it known.

“There’s a library nearby. Would you like to go?” Edward offers as you both walk again.

“Sure.” you say with a shrug.

In the aisle of the thriller section, you came to realization.

“I don’t even know what I’m going to make.” you whisper in the quiet setting.

He places a book back onto the shelf, reaching his arm over you as he slid it back.

“How about how you feel?” he suggests.

“What? Sickly?” you ask with a soft grin.

“I mean…..You could play on that.” he says grinning back.

“I guess…I want to do something I’ve never done before.” you mused.

“Something you’ve never done before?” he questions.

“I want to really make something that will have someone think.” you say as you turn the book over to skim the back of it.

“You already do that.” he says and you see a glimpse of white from his mouth.

“I don’t know.” you say with a shrug.

“What about…?” he starts but you stop walking to the next section. You look at him to continue.

“What about love?” he suggests.

“Love is too complex. Do we really know what it is?” you say with a light laugh.

“It’s a spectrum. It doesn’t have to be just…One thing in order to define it.”

“I suppose.” you say and you settle with a greek mythology book.

Edward let you use his address to get a library card.

“I think I want to sculpt something. Like really get hands on.” you say as you both walk back to the penthouse.

“That would be interesting.” he comments.

“After what I saw what Larry displays, I have some serious competition.” you say as the elevator door closes.

“They’re not as good as you.” he comments quietly as the elevator moves up.

“That’s a stretch.” you say quietly chuckling.

“It’s true. You make people stop and feel.” he says as he walks next to you.

He opens the door and Alice and Jasper were home.

“Hey.” you greet them both. They greet you back.

You felt a hand be placed on your shoulder, you look.

“I will be back. I need to hunt.” he says to you. You nod.

“I’m going to my ‘for now’ room.” you tell Alice as you start to walk and she guides you to the spare room.

It was grand. You didn’t expect less from them. Your suitcase was standing proud. You peered into it and Alice did make sure to grab everything.

You flopped on the bed after closing the door. You still felt incredibly exhausted. Your mind started to race as you stared up at the ceiling from the bed.

You sit up with a wince and a gasp. It felt like your body was smacked into something hard. You roll off the bed and onto the floor as you hold your sides. It hurt too much to feel embarrassing.

Alice rushed in, kneel at your side, “Oh my god, are you alright?”

“I don’t know.” you say as you wanted to cry. Jasper stands behind her. You felt the pain starting to ease up, but you knew something was wrong.

She helps you rise up and she takes a long look at you, “It feels like you’re burning up.” she comments to you.

“I think… I think I need to lay down.” you say as your vision start to blur. You put one knee on the bed before you land forward on the soft bed.

You don’t know what happened next, but you woke up to Edward sitting in the chair in the corner of the room.

You groan as you turn over. A blanket from the bed was over you and you push it off the upper part of your body.

“What’s wrong with me?” you whisper into the darkness.

“Do you want to go to the hospital?”

“No. Paul will freak.” You say as you blink at the dark room.

“Should I get Carlisle?” he asks. You think for a moment and nod, you hearing his footsteps let you know that his eyes could still see you in the dark.

He stands as he exits the room.

Alice comes in right after he leaves and placed a hand on your forehead while sitting on the edge of your bed.

“Did you see this? In your vision?” you ask.

“No. I wasn’t looking for your future, the traumatic event as it was your choice to go home, hit at me so strongly.” she admits.

“This doesn’t make any sense.” you comment.

“Carlisle will be here soon.” she reassured you and hold your hand. The cool hand noticeably contrast in your fevered hand.

“When can I go home? It feels like….It feels like I’m dying.” you say with a whine at the last part.

“It’s going to be some time before Victoria is dead.” she says to you.

“How much time? I miss Paul. I just want Paul.” you say as you squeezed your eyes closed, you didn’t want to cry but you were on the verge of tears. She then rubs your shoulder.

“I know.” she says softly with a hint of compassion.

She sits with you until you hear the door open again. She stands up as she says hello to the father figure.

Carlisle felt your head with his hand as he peered down at you.

“You do feel very hot.” he says.

“She hasn’t been taking care of herself.” Edward says as he sits on the edge of the bed.

“Edward, not now.” you say with annoyance.

“He’s a bit right. It’s important for you to get plenty of sleep and to eat. Now, I don’t understand why you were pain. What did it feel like?” Carlisle asks you.

“Like something smacked me hard. It just smacked me out of nowhere. My vision goes in and out to where it’s a bit hard to see if front of me at times.” you explain.

“She said she felt like she got hit by a truck when she had woken up earlier.” Edward adds on. Carlisle takes a worried glance at you after hearing this.

“You should take it easy.” Carlisle says and then looks to Edward without saying anything. It was evident that communication was happening. Edward rises and leaves the room immediately.

“It seems like you’re experiencing a sudden drop in blood pressure. As for the pain, do you feel sick?” he asks.

“No. I don’t feel sick.” You say as Edward hands you a glass of water. He made the effort to hold the glass as you drink in little by little. You sighed from the refreshment and lay back to find find yourself fluffed up with pillows . Alice puts a pillow under your legs.

“How will I work? I need to get better.” you say.

“Don’t rush it.” Edward tells you.

“I have a lot I need to do.” you say as you start to droop and close your eyes.

“Just let her sleep.” Carlisle says to Edward. Edward stands as he peered down at you. Your chest began to rise and fall slowly.

“Edward.” Carlisle says to Edward, who was still peering down at you, to get him to let you be.

As much as he didn’t want to, he turned and leaves out of the room.

You woke up to it already being the next morning. You rub your eyes as the bright light shined through the curtains.

You reached over and seen that Paul did call an hour prior to you waking up. You immediately get out of bed and get dressed.

After checking your email, you find out you have to fly to LA the next day. The duration was for two days. This was the tightest deadline you’ve ever gotten.

After brushing your teeth, Alice is in your face with a muffin.

“Eat.” she says.

“Thanks.” you say with a smile.

Alice takes your arm and you’re in the living room. Carlisle was still there. You smile at him as he smiles back.

“How are you feeling?” he asks.

“Better.” you say as you do. You then turn to Alice, “After I eat, I need to go to get art supplies.”

“Okay! I know where we could go.”

You look down while chewing and you swallow.

“Um…I was thinking I go alone. I won’t be long.” you say and she doesn’t feel down about it as she grins and nods.

As you walk, you call Paul. He answers on the first ring.

He doesn’t get hello out before you ramble on, “I’m so sorry, Paul. I promise I do care about you. I didn’t leave you, I swear I didn’t. I do miss you. Things are just so complicated. I promise I will come back home.”

“I miss you too.” he says quietly, you had to strain to hear him but you still smile.

“I talked to Sam.” you tell him.

“I know. He told me.” he says in the same volume.

“I have to….” you say and close your mouth.

“What is it?” he says not bothering to speak louder.,

“When I tell you I love you, I want to tell you it because I feel it.”

“Okay.”

Silence follows after.

“I’m going to LA tomorrow.” you tell him.

“Okay.”

You searched for more to say as you felt sad that the conversation was nothing like it’s ever been before.

“I gotta go.” he says.

“Booo.”

This makes him break out a chuckle.

“Wait, Paul!” you say before he could hang up.

“Yeah?”

You wait for a moment to ask, “Can I call you..Tonight?”

“Of course.” he says and hangs up.

You knew what you were going to make.

You come in with a bag and Alice jumps up with excitement.

“Do you want to see your place?” she asks.

“Yeah.” you say with a low energy smile. Edward stares at you.

You were grateful. It was a spacious apartment and you definitely had an entire free room to do all of your artwork. You turn and hug her tight with a smile.

“See? I knew you would love it!” she says. You chuckle a bit. You looked up as Alice unwrapped herself from you to see Edward with his hands in his pockets, looking at you and his sister.

“Okay. Let’s go. She has a project due in like two days.” Alice says to her brother.

“Do you mind..If I stay?” he asks you. Alice looks to you for an answer.

You got nervous, “Um….I work better…Alone. I never have people around me while I work. Ever.” you admit.

“That’s okay! Come on, Edward.” Alice says.

Edward takes his time to follow his sister out.

You let out a breath when you know they’re both out of the building.

You were happy you weren’t feeling so weak. You start to sketch out the idea before implanting the details.

You worked until darkness came. You munched on takeout as you called Paul from your bedroom.

He answers and you’re surprised.

“Hey, you.” you say.

He rubbed his eye as he says, “Hey.”

“Do you want to see what I’m making so far?” you ask.

“No, let me see it when you’re done.” he says and he squints a bit, “Where are you at?”

“My apartment. I got put up.” you say.

“Oh.” he says and you watch as his face falls.

“It’s not a yearly lease. It’s month to month. I can still leave when it comes down to it.”

He nods slowly as he looks down a bit, “But you won’t.”

You look to the side.

The silence was thick. You didn’t know what else to say to him. He just looked at your digital entity.

“Why did….Sam make you submit? What did you do?” you ask after some time of looking at each other.

He shrugs, “I was going to come get you my self.” he admits.

You didn’t know whether to be serious or laugh at the thought.

“I kind of…Wish you did.” you say quietly.

“Is that so?”

“Yeah….I feeling so horrible. Sick even. I felt like I was dying.” you admit.

“Was it the day you talk to Sam?” he asks. You nod.

“Hm..” he says.

“Why? Were you feeling like that too?” you ask.

“A bit. I just know I was more hostile than usual. Last night, as we were chasing the leech, I smacked right into Jared as she juked out of my reach.” he says.

“Oh.” you say you say a slight frown.

“Shit was crazy.” he says as he rubs his eyes again.

“I think I felt that.” you whispered.

“Felt what?”

You shake your head slightly as you start, “I remember being in so much pain. It felt like my body was smacked into something.”

“Are you serious?” he asks, looking more alert.

“Yeah.” you say.

“This is why you need to be home.” he says starting to bring the level of his voice up. You don’t say anything as you already knew what was holding you back from going home.

You instead, take him with you to throw your trash away.

In a way, he got a virtual tour of what your apartment looked like.

“There’s no way you paid for that.” he comments.

You set him on the counter as the trash is dumped into the kitchen garbage.

“I didn’t. I told you I got put up.” you say with a sly smile.

He was about to say something but he stops as he sighs as he says, “Alright. I gotta go. That was Sam.”

“Okay. Be safe…” you say in a somber.

“Always am.” he says.

You flop backwards on the bed as you are content. It was finished. The buzz at your door made you confused, you’re even more confused when the morning light is shining bright at you.

Looking at the same clothes that you’ve had on, the knocking hits your door again. You press the talk button with furrow eyebrows, “Yeah?”

“Are you ready? You have to get to the airport.” Edward says. You look at the project that sat strong and finished as you realized you didn’t even sleep.

You hide your gasp as you blink at the sky before admiting,“I didn’t wrap my art yet.” you say as you rub your eyes.

“I will have it wrapped and in the car before you’re even dressed but, you seriously have to go.” he says.

As you got dressed in your room. Edward greedily looked at what you made in the other room. He was careful but still quick to live up to his claim.

Your jaw was sore as you kept covering your yawn with your hand in the car. You wiped the stray tears that were collecting in your eyes from the yawning sessions.

Your mood was better, Paul called you before you had to leave. He praised what you made, he was genuinely blown away.

“Why didn’t you sleep?” Edward asks with a slight frown.

“How would I sleep in order to finish this?” you asked as you held the sturdy hard-sided container. His eyes flickered with a dash of excitement as he looked at it and you.

“It does look amazing.” he comments as he stared down at the covered work.

When you touched down, you were glad to be alone. Larry had someone pick you up from the airport and brought you to his house.

He introduced you to his girlfriend, who was also an artist.

You were relieved that you could be somewhat comfortable.

“I can’t wait to set this up.” he says as you unwraveled the protection around the piece. He had a glass box that was ready to for it to be placed in.

“It is beautiful.” she says with a smile and her hands together, “What inspired you?”

“Have you ever experienced heartache so bad, that you don’t want to be inside of your body anymore?” you ask her.

She couldn’t bring out an answer as she looked at it earnestly.

“Not like this, but it definitely makes me feel like I have before.” she says while nodding as she intently mused at the fiber art.

You stayed in the guesthouse. You didn’t know whether or not to feel bad, but you felt happy that the Cullens weren’t around. The weather was going to be sunny, Alice letting you know that she and Edward weren’t going to chance coming, she also seen no faulty events for the two days you were going to be gone. You were glad in a way because you had time to think.

You really were glad you finished because you didn’t know that Larry was having the gallery on the same day as you came. You sat in the car heading to his gallery in Beverly Hills. New wave of pieces were debuting tonight and you were nervous. You didn’t know if your stuff would hold up to the expectations of the other artists.

The lights were bright as you saw your piece set up, with your name showing everybody that you were responsible for the artistic decision.

People oo’ed and ahh’ed as they walked around, they asked you questions as they huddled around the art piece that you made. Most of them being high profile, you just breathed and chanted in your head to be yourself.

You tried your best to force a smile but you wanted a certain person to come. Pictures were taken and Larry looked proud as people gushed about what you made.

Things were dying down as people mingled and talked about what to do afterwards. You were looking down, staring off to space as you were thinking about heading back to the house.

“Did you get beat up or something?” a voice says to you that made your heart beat wildly.

You saw a pair of familiar shoes. You immediately look up to see the person who you wanted to see.

“Oh my god!” you say as you wrap your arms around his neck, pulling you close to him. He sways you as you both didn’t care that people were looking. He grabbed your neck so you could look at his face and pulled you in with a kiss.

You didn’t care that you couldn’t breathe, he also didn’t care either. You both pull back and smile at each other.

He pressed his forehead to yours as you pant.

“How? How did you get here?”

“I ran here.” Paul says.

“Sam didn’t order you to stay away?” you ask in surprise.

“He didn’t say I couldn’t go to a gallery.” he says with a smirk.

Your arms were around him and you frown a bit, “You lost weight.”

“You did too.” he says with the same expression that you displayed on your face.

“I’ve been too stressed to eat.” you admit.

“Me too.” he admits as well.

“How did you bring clothes?” you whisper with a smirk.

“My wolf doesn’t have a big mouth for nothing.” he says and emits a happy laugh from you as you pull him in close to you and he then says in a somewhat annoyed but light voice, “Looks like someone wants you.”

You pull away and you look to see Larry standing there with a supportive grin.

“Oh, hey.” you say sheepishly as you forgot that you were in a public setting.

“Oh, I was waiting for you to get it all out.” He jokes as you look down with a smile. Paul puts a heavy arm around you shoulders and pull you close to his side.

“This is Paul. My boyfriend.” you introduced to him and Larry shook his hand and you had to look away to stop yourself from laughing because Paul had a strong grip on his hand.

“You have a talented one right here.” Larry comments before someone is now in his face speaking to him.

Paul steers you away from and you both walk around.

“So, where are you staying?” he asks in your ear.

“You won’t like it.” you say with a grin.

“Why?” he asks.

“At Larry’s guesthouse.” you say and you watch Paul’s face drop and you say, “He has a girlfriend.”

He gives you a look that screams, “Like that has stopped anyone before.”

You interlace your hand with his, “The bed is huge.” you whisper to him with a gentle smile and you watch as his mouth twitch before losing the battle of finally seeing his face soften up.

You feel your phone buzz and he feels it too. You pull out your phone as he watched you.

Alice.

He looks to you. He was expecting you to simply explain.

“Do you want me to answer?” you ask him.

“What are you going to do?” he asks seriously and plainly. He actually watches as you just answer under his arm.

“I can’t see your future! It’s gone black! Are you okay?!” Alice’s high trilled voice makes you squint and both you and Paul wince away from the phone.

“Yes. Yes, I’m okay.” you say with glee as you look at him. He’s then goes to grab your hand. He’s listening to everything that’s being said.

“I’m scared Y/N. Are you safe? Are you still at the gallery?” she asks.

“Yes. And yes. Don’t panic. Look, I have to go. It’s my turn to speak. I will call if anything happens.” you promise.

She’s not convinced but she agrees and hangs up.

You’re tugged by surprise and you look up to Paul peering down at you.

“When are you going to be done with right here?” he asks in genuine curiosity as he looks about for a bit.

“I literally don’t know.” you say as you couldn’t find Larry. You hear a chuckle that’s deep as you looked around and you look to the source.

Displaying a relaxed grin, “Aren’t you supposed to show me something?” His hands were firm around your waist. His gaze made you glad he was holding you up because you felt shaky.

You nod and he then brings you in close to his side. You slug next to him as you both stroll out of the door.

Larry was outside leaving himself.

“Are you coming to dinner with us?” he asks you after he got in a car. He leans over a bit as the car door was open.

“No-“

“Yes.”

You look at Paul.

He shrugs, “I’m hungry.”

Larry chuckles at this as he looks at his girlfriend who is also displays an amused smile.

A driver opens the door for you and Paul as you grab his hand and hop in the car with him.

He keeps a hand on your jaw as he worked his lips on yours, you fell under it like a spell as you were slumped again him, chasing his kisses. The driver following the car that’s in front. Your mouths told each other how much you missed each other.

Larry liked Paul. He found him to be quite charismatic and laid back. He had questions for you, however.

“How come you didn’t come to New York?” Larry asks Paul.

“I had work. I came here to surprise this one.” he answers and doesn’t take away the hand that was resting on your knee under the table.

“Have you thought of modeling or anything?” Larry’s girlfriend asks him, she took a good look at his face and Paul shakes his head, not really wanting to be in that scene.

“So, when is she able to come back home?” Paul asks and you look to him, surprised that he popped out with that question.

Larry chuckles quietly, “She can go home whenever she wants to. It’s just that when I need her here for business, she has to come. Sorry but, she’s the money maker.”

Paul looks to you and nods, he proceeded to ask the next question without taking his eyes off of yours, “So, when is she due back?”

“I have some meetings set up for next week. I’ll know the definite direction we are going to be moving in but uh..Yeah. Y/N, when the time is needed, you’ll be in New York right?”

“Yeah…I am…But, the thing is..” you say and look down with your heart racing, the table is quiet as they wait for your response, “Wouldn’t it just be easier to stay there instead being jet lagged all of the time?”

“Yeah. But, if you want to go home, you can. Hell, I’m back and forth from New York and LA so, it’s doable.” Larry encourages. Paul grins at this and rubs your knee.

Larry’s girlfriend got Larry’s attention and started talking to him about an offer that she received and that’s when they started talking in their own conversation.

“Don’t you leave tomorrow?” Paul asks you as fidget with a napkin on the table, you ate as much as you could before getting full.

You nod and you felt a warm hand on your back.

“I don’t want you to get in trouble with Sam.” you say quietly, worried about his consequence.

“There you go, worrying.” Paul says with a smirk.

“I’m serious.” you say in a quiet but captious tone at him. He doesn’t take it to heart but it doesn’t stop him from leaning in and asking in your ear, “What’s with you?”

“Nothing. Sorry. I’m just tired.” you say quietly. He’s not convinced but he lets it be the answer.

Larry’s girlfriend sees someone that she knows, gets up and gives them a hug. They move from the table and talk and catch up, happy to run into each other. Paul tells you that he has to use the bathroom. When he walks off, Larry takes a look at you.

You try to ignore it but he’s still looking at you.

“That guy, you were with at the symphony, he wasn’t your boyfriend?” Larry asks you quietly. You shake your head while saying no politely.

“He isn’t like your manager or anything?” he asks again.

“No. He..He was a friend of a friend.” you say.

“Oh...”

“What made you ask?” you ask with an amused look.

“It was the way that he handled everything, taking control over the situation. He was a bit intense.” he says as he thinks back and holds a defensive hand up before continuing, “Look, I’m not looking to get in your business but I’m getting in your buisness.” he comments before getting up and going to where his girlfriend was. His girlfriend’s friend opened her mouth into a happy gasp as she shook his hand and he carried the conversation like a casual stroll.

As soon as you and Paul came into the guesthouse, he stripped of his clothes.

“I mean, this place is huge.” he says as he’s in nothing but his boxers. You don’t say anything as you sit on the bed and look down.

“What’s wrong?” he asks as he stands in front of you.

“I’m too scared to come home.” you say lowly.

“Why?” he asks and you still don’t say anything.

“Because of the leech?” he asks again. You nod halfheartedly.

“When I leave here, I’m going back to the city.” you tell him. His face hardened.

“Now, it’s like you’re trying to piss me off.” he says.

“What?” you say dismissively as you don’t take what he’s saying seriously.

He throws you a look, not in an angry way but as if he’s thinking.

“It’s not because I don’t want to come home but, come on Paul, I’m scared.”

“And I have always protected you. I always have. Nothing bad has ever happened to you because I don’t let it.”

“Don’t say that now because what if something does happen?”

“I won’t let it happen.” he says in finality. You two hold each other’s gaze.

“I have to tell you something.” you say, you couldn’t hold it in anymore.

“What?” he encouraged.

“I don’t know if Old Quil has told you but, Alice Cullen can see the future of someone’s decision making and the real reason why I stayed was because I was supposed to come home from the airport with Bella. Alice told me that Emily and I’m guessing Kim as well had to be told not to go anywhere for safety which made me decide to call Bella to pick me up, I would’ve…”

“You would’ve what?” he asks flatly and he’s back close to you.

“I would’ve died or been…One of them. And it was because of the vampire that you and the pack have been trying to kill. I wouldn’t have even made it to La Push. ” you say.

He doesn’t say anything but he stared at you deeply. So deeply, that it almost made you uncomfortable.

“So…You lied to me.” he states.

“Is that what you got from this?” you say in frustration.

“Yeah…That’s exactly what I got from this…You lied to me and it took me to come to you to get the truth out of you. If I was still home, I would’ve still been thinking it was Larry who was making you stay here. Unbelievable.” he says as he shakes his head.

“What’s unbelievable is that you would’ve still told me to come home.”

“But, you don’t know that. You didn’t give me the option!” he says back to you.

“You don’t understand-“

“I don’t understand how if she told you this, don’t you think if let’s say, you told me this , mind you, we talked the night before you were supposed to leave. We would’ve strategized on following you, making sure she didn’t attack you.”

“I didn’t think about that.”

“You’re right. You didn’t.” he says with a grin but it wasn’t friendly at all.

He then nods after looking to the side a bit, “Is that where the Cullens are? Is that where they left off to?”

“What?”

He bends down a bit to meet your eye level as you look at him.

“Are the Cullens in New York?” he asks as he felt that he knew you heard what he asked the first time.

“Where is this coming from?” you ask and he laughs a bit without a trace of humor as he felt that he caught you.

“Just say it. The real reason you didn’t want to come home, was because the Cullens told you not to come home. I find it real suspicious how they left on the same day that you did.”

“They only warned me! Not told me! I didn’t know that they would come to where I was. I swear!” you say to him. He doesn’t say anything.

“I didn’t want to get turned or die. I would have rather for you to have been mad at me for not coming home than me becoming… one of them.” you say in a calm tone as you couldn’t look at him in the face.

He cupped your jaw with one hand, it’s not an aggressive grip, and makes you look up at him as he stared down at you.

“Do not lie to me. I don’t lie to you so don’t do it to me. Do you hear me?”

You nod.

“You’re coming home with me. Tomorrow. Right?” His fierce gaze burned your eyes.

It took you some time before you eventually nodded. After you did, your face starts to twist as you tried to hold back tears. Tears of fustration.

That’s when his face starts to soften up, “I mean it. Nothing is going to happen to you.”

You nod again as you take in a breath. When he lets go of your face, you rise up to a stand.

He takes his hand to the nape of your neck, his lips are now to your ear as you’re now close to him. You jerk a bit from the fluttery sensation of his lip’s touch on your ear.

He takes his hand to make you feel the front of him, his quiet groan vibrates in your ear that shot right to the lower pit of your stomach. Your breath began to become more shallow as he makes your hand pull his boxers down a bit, causing his boner to spring out at you.

That’s when the two sets of lips meet, you both sigh out in each other’s mouths as he makes you stroke him, his hips slowly flowing forward in your hand.

Your clothes fall onto the ground as if they were leaves. You lay back as he makes you spread your legs for him, taking your underwear off in the process. You forgot how to breathe a bit as you watched him lick your center as if you were the last source of water to a quenched man.

You held the back of his head as your eyes fall closed and you sigh out in a high octave as he worked his tongue in a lewd manner. He was loud with the noises he was making as he held your legs open, preventing you from closing them. Your hands meet the center of his hair as you arch back, whining out his name. You felt more sensitive than usual as you squirmed, it felt like it’s been so long. He felt like it’s been so long.

He watched as your hooded eyes looked down at him as he rubbed his flesh against your sensitive entrance, his hands caressed the perked up breasts that rose up and down from your breathing.

He guided himself in as he sunk in you and you both groaned. You reach out to him as you wanted to feel every inch of him.

He scooted you down until you were at the end of the bed, keeping you open as he worked his hips to meet yours. Your hands tried your best to grab whatever to catch a tight grip. Your legs were already shaking as he coos to you in a rasp.

He picks up the pace as he keeps moving into you. You shuddered as he takes a thumb to circle your nub and you came while groaning out his name.

You noticed he kept going, you gripped the sheets beside you in a tight grip as he drilled in you. He leans forward to press himself against you, you clutch onto this back, your nails making indentations. He didn’t mind as he groaned encouragingly in your ear, you close your eyes again as you whine from the second small orgasm coming.

Your mouth latch onto his neck as he circled his hips. You bit down gently without breaking skin and let go and he grunts out, “Do it again. Come on, do it again.” Your mouth latch back onto him and repeat the action. The thrusts however wouldn’t let you do for long.

You were out of your mind as lays an open mouth kisses on your ear, to your neck, before capturing your mouth. Your eyes were closed with your head to the side. You take in breaths as you then feel transfer the breaths into a high sigh, feeling firm and wetness sensations sleek in the center of your legs. You just had to look and you find the most lewd sight. You felt ashamed that you enjoyed the sight. He teased the entrance, you immediately want to know what it feels like, you missed him so much. One deep thrust had you cooing at him but he didn’t change the slow pace. He pulls out and you see the white coating around his still hardened erection. Your eyes widened a bit as he flipped you over, he sinks into you from behind.

You chant his name as he snapped his hips forward. He held onto you tight as he hooked his arm around you, bringing you up with him. He snaked his hand in front of you and rubbed your nub in circles. You placed one hand on his arm and one on his thigh as you belt out the noises of pleasure.

Your hips lurched as he could now easily pump himself out of you. The noise drove the both of you into a different high. His hand had a feel of the tender breasts that moved with his movements. He then slid it up to cover his now moaning mouth with your mouth. Tongues dart out at each other before the lips could glue onto each other.

He came, you flop forward as your body felt extremely tired.

The next morning was warm. That’s all you felt was warmth.

You didn’t want to get out of bed but, you knew that you had to. While Paul was sleeping, you slid out of bed to use the bathroom.

You were glad that your face didn’t look miserable as it did when you both had been separated.

You hear Paul’s voice call your name and you make your way into the room. He hands you your vibrating phone.

“Hello?”

“I’m in at the tennis court. We have to talk about something.” he says but it’s airy and you have a slight idea that it’s good news.

You look to Paul and he seemed to be fine with it.

“Sure. Thanks so much.”

You thank him again before hanging up. You hurry getting dressed. Paul was still naked under the changed blankets that he put on overnight while you were sleeping and you couldn’t help but to lean and kiss him goodbye. He tried to pull you down, even tugging at some of your clothes but, you were able to win by sliding his hands off and stepping back before his grips became more tighter.

Larry was bouncing the tennis ball and tossed it to you and you catch it with a smile. He was obviously happy about something. You eyed him carefully as he handed you a racket.

You both played a game, if it were a game, Larry winning most of the scores. As you get the ball that went over your side of the net, your eyes were taking in the lime greenness of the tennis ball.

“Your piece sold.”

Your smile was big. You turn around to face him and he matched it.

“Who bought it?” you ask in disbelief, it literally happened overnight.

“Come see. They left a number to call for you. Your money is in my office.”

The spacious room in his home felt like heaven as you waited with anticipation.

He let you sit in his chair as he dialed the number onto the phone and hands it to you. As the phone trilled in your ear, the white paper with numbers was sliding towards you in your peripheral vision.

“Hello?”

You swallow.

“Thank you for buying my piece.” you say to the voice.

“You’re welcome.” he says the laconic statement.

“Edward?” you ask.

“Yes?”

“Why did you buy it?” you ask as you took in shallow breaths.

His voice was calm as he bell out an answer, “It was simply extraordinary.”

You groaned softly to yourself with pursed lips.

“We definitely have to talk.” you tell him.

“Okay. I’m the one picking you up from the airport tonight.” he agrees.

“I’m not going back to New York.” you tell him.

“You’re staying in LA?” he asked in confusion.

“No. I’m going home.”

“Y/N, you can’t.” he says but it’s patient.

“I have to.” you say.

“Did Alice’s vision mean nothing? I can’t let anything happen to you.”

“Paul will make sure nothing happens to me. I can’t accept this. We’ll talk soon.” you say and hang up. You slump back in the chair.

“You can’t accept what?” Larry asks as he blows out his cigar smoke.

“This.” you say with your hands pointing down at the check.

“Why not?” Larry asks with a wry smile.

“There’s something attached to this. I know it. He’s didn’t buy it because he thought it was ‘extraordinary’.” you tell him.

He puts his cigar out.

“Well he bought it. He’s not going to be the only one buying your stuff. Last night so many people were asking me what was the next thing that you were making. People that would pay more.” he explains.

“Larry, you’re a guy,” you say as you play off of what he told you the previous night, “What if your girlfriend was in this position?”

“She has. Plenty of times. She knows how to play the game and leave her feelings out of it. Leave your feelings out of it. This is business. We’re here to make money.”

You walk back to the guest home and Paul was getting dressed when you came in. He pulled you to him in a kiss.

“We don’t have to leave until later on.” you say to him.

“Jared’s been calling. I think Sam knows.” he says. No words were said for a moment as his jacket is slid on, he didn’t bother bringing a shirt.

You walk over to the window and stare out of it in thought.

“What happened? Was it bad news?” Paul asks.

“No. Well…I don’t know….Edward Cullen bought my piece. For a lot of money. Larry’s ecstatic.” you reveal.

“Are you serious?” he asks.

“This puts me in a situation.”

“Don’t take that fucker’s money.”

You shrug in defeat as you look back at him.

“Larry represents me. He will lose out if I say no. But, Paul we wouldn’t have to face a struggle in our lives.” you say. He steps close as he looked down at you.

“We never struggled before so why would you think we would now? All money isn’t good money.” he says with disagreement.

“It’s a situation to where it’s a win win. If I’m able to pull in revenue for him, I make him hot for his business. I get his connections and more.” you say as you look down.

He huffs out with frustration.

“So what are you going to do?”

“I have to take it.” you say in a small voice.

“You don’t have to do anything. All you’ve wanted to do was make art. I feel like this is going to your head.”

“If I fuck this up, it’s going to make my name bad. Yes, I love art but it’s 90% business…Hell it’s probably more than that. At the end of the day, it’s whether or not I can make these people money. I helped him score. Do you know how much of my ass he’s going to kiss?” you reveal.

“Let me talk to him.”

“No.” you say in defeat but he pressed, “No, let me talk to him.”

You follow him out and you call out to him, “What are you doing?” you run and grab his arm. He turns around.

“Do you even know what you want?” he asks bluntly.

“I do! I want to be successful. I always told you that this is my life.” you say.

“I’m also apart of your life.” he states.

“I know. You are.” you say to agree with him.

“So, don’t you think you should incorporate me more? I’m always the last to know about things, you lie to me, it’s like you really don’t give a fuck about me at all. I feel like I’m the only one trying here and it’s not fair at all. You’re about to accept this leech’s money!” he says to you as you both now stand on the huge lawn.

You sigh and look down, “I’m sorry. I just want to do this right. Even before you, I dreamt many nights to be in this position in the first place.”

He grabs your face, “It will come. You don’t think many more people in the future will purchase from you? He’s not the only one. Get that through your head.”

“The man in the office is not thinking like that. I signed a contract agreeing to work business with him. He doesn’t know that Edward’s a…Vampire.” you say.

He shakes his head as he lets go of your face.

“I’m going home. If I don’t see you tonight, I will just know what it is.” he says and steps back.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” you ask. He keeps stepping back before turning around. You follow him and roughly grab his arm, it of course make him turn around.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” you ask him again, stabbing him with your eyes.

He raised a finger and tapped your temple gently but enough to make you blink a bit, “You’re a smart girl.” He takes a look at you before giving you a sneer.

You call his name but he doesn’t turn around, he continues walking.

Closing the door, you stomp to your room. Your phone buzzes, you ignore it. You didn’t want to talk to Alice right now. She didn’t seem to care. The phone continues to ring.

“Alice, I don’t want to talk.” you say feeling upset. You felt like you gained something but also lost something.

“We have to. I didn’t know Paul went to where you were. I seen Victoria follow the scent of a wolf and you have to leave. Now!”

“I can’t. My plane doesn’t leave until tonight.” you say as you felt scared all over again. Your stomach dropped as you rise up and peak out of the window.

“That’s okay. Just pack your things. Larry’s going to call you soon to let you travel on his jet.”

“Alice…” you say to her, “I have to go home. If I don’t, I lose Paul.” you say.

“Now’s really not the time to deal with relationship problems. This is your life we’re talking about here!” she says.

“Why did you let Edward buy my piece?” you question.

“What Edward wants to buy is his choice.” she says.

“Yes but, this caused a huge situation. I..I can’t accept it.”

“Y/N, do you really think you can tell the man who took an investment on you that you can’t accept the money that’s been thrown at you. Talk about blackball.” she says.

“I need to think Alice, I’ll call you back.” you tell her and hang up before she can talk you out of it.

You quickly call Jared and hope he answers. You make a small jump as he answers.

“Sorry I missed your call, I was dealing with something earlier.” you tell him.

“Yeah right. Ignoring my calls.” he jokes and you crack a smile.

“What do you want?” you ask him.

“I was just telling Paul to get his ass back here, I’ve been covering for him but Sam is not stupid.” he says.

“Yeah. He left.” you say and he picked up the tone in your voice.

“You alright?” he asks.

“No. I’m not at all.” you admit.

“You want to talk about it?” he asks.

“I just don’t know what to do Jared. Tonight I’m supposed to come home but, Alice Cullen, the one who can see people’s future, told me it’s still not safe. The vampire you all been tracking down is following Paul’s scent. I’m so in a sticky situation.” you say.

“Hm.. Shit… I’m not the best person to ask for advice from.” he says.

“It’s alright..Do you think one of the guys can pick me up? Or at least follow me home from the loose cold one?”

“Yeah…About that..There’s more than one.”

“What..”

“I had to sneak back here to call you and Paul but, Paul doesn’t even know.”

You put a hand on your forehead.

“Jared. Please tell Paul. Please let him know that I really care about him and he thinks I’m leaving him if I don’t come home.”

“I will tell him. This leech is teasing us. I chased her last night and Embry chased another one. Oh! Did Paul tell you about our new member Embry?”

“Yes he told me. What happened?” you say to rush him.

“Right, so Embry was chasing another one while I got reallly close to getting her. Embry told me before he finished off the leech, they kept screaming this name. Victoria. My guess is that they were with her. There’s probably more that we don’t know about. This shit gets deeper and deeper.” he says.

You don’t say anything as your head is in your head, feeling stressed out at the news.

“Hello? Are you still there?”

“Yes.” you say in a small voice.

“I gotta go. But, whatever happens, I know you will have good intent.” he says.

Alice told the truth when Larry invited you on his jet to ride. You looked out of the window as you sat in the sky, to look down to the sight below you. Your stomach fluttered with nervousness. You just really did hope you made the right choice.

#paul lahote #paul lahote x you #wolf pack #y/n imagines #y/n #fanfic #twilight saga #x y/n #paul lahote angst #angst fanfic #paul lahote smut #paul lahote x y/n #paul lahote x reader #paul lahote fanfic #paul lahote imagine #imprint

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maruchan25 · 7 months ago

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hello! May I request a headcanon of Hannibal Lecter x preagnant wife? I don't know if you write for pregnancy but I love your writing style and would love if you write it!!! No pressure

hiii there yes I write that too and I loved this request! Gif not mine!

-he planned having kids since you 2 got married so he already had a plan

-when you told him he already knowed since he had already planned it so he acted surprised (he was really happy though)

-he was really exited to have a baby with you even if you were early on he would threat you like you are made of glass

-he would make you have a healthy diet but he couldn't say no to you when you ask for cravings

-he he gives you space and understands when you have your mood swings he won't get mad or frustrated cuz he understands you can't help it

-he would definitely be at any appointment you have and would ask alot of questions to your Dr about the baby and your health

-he won't let you raise a finger cuz he don't want you overdoing things he would help you in anyway he can

-he already buyed baby albums and the first pic he pasted was the ultrasound pics

-would rub your sore feet anything for you his lovely wife

-he would go with you baby shopping with you and help you picking the first outfit the baby is gonna wear

-he defently started baby proofing the house putting plastic all other table corners

-he would love to see you on maternity night gows he say you glow wearing them

-he go sleep on the guests room if you feel more comfy sleeping alone on the master room

-he would make the nursery he don't want you working but if you wanna help him do it he would give you light jobs like folding the baby cloth and putting the new curtains in the nursery

#my headcanons #hannibal lecter #hannibal lecter x reader #hannibal lecter x you #Hannibal #Hannibal lecter x reader #Hannibal lecter x pregnant reader #Hannibal lecter scenarios #fluff #Preagnancy headcanons

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halcyone-of-the-sea · 1 year ago

Text

MY THREE DEAD, LITTLE DOVES (IV)

NAVIGATION || RAVISHING ALLURE MASTERLIST || NEXT: CHAPTER V

PAIRING: Nikto x F!Reader (Soulmate AU)

WORDCOUNT: 10.1k

WARNINGS: Angst, mentions of stalking & stalking behavior, talks of death, weapons, suggestive thoughts/comments, mentions of sex & intimacy, toxic modeling standards, use of a derogatory word for women, food issues, dead animals, blood, gore, etc. (Series 18+)

*I do not give others permission to translate and/or re-publish my works on this or any other platform*

Nikto is first to wake up, and you find him assembling the blacked form of a gun on your island counter while your wide eyes try to push back the curtain of sleep. It’s not even five A.M yet.

“Your pantry is empty.” He speaks and you blink quickly, staring at his back as the blanket over your shoulders staves off the chill of the penthouse. “No food.”

“Well…” Your voice is raspy from the whimpering you’d done, nightmares waking you up half an hour before you had to be ready to go to work. “I don’t eat a lot. Did you try the fridge? I have yogurt.”

You clear your throat and wonder about the tea you’d left him, finding the cup back where you’d grabbed it the night before; cleaned and dried. Even in your sluggishness, a sheen of smug satisfaction looms above your head, though you had no proof that he’d drunk the tea or just was prompted by his cleanliness to dump it out.

Nikto’s covered face shifts to look over his shoulder, those piercing eyes digging through you. They slash you up and down as his fingers continue to move, moving parts and clicking metal together with ingrained perfection. You watch with hidden impressiveness.

“More.”

You scoff, rolling your eyes. “Alright, then. Are you going to be doing the grocery shopping?” The soldier turns back around and huffs.

“Да.” Your unimpressed look is missed, but you let a smile twitch your lips as it normally would. A tease eases out as you shuffle to the fridge on careful feet.

“Wonderful, Nikto, thank you.” You can feel the glare on the back of your neck as you open the barrier, the chill seeping out as the darkness from outside was pushed back by the single overhead light that the Russian had turned on.

A small lapse in conversation falls as you rub at your eyes, groaning under your breath at the itch before you miss grabbing for your yogurt once. You knock your knuckles to the wrack in the fridge and flinch, but quickly re-situate and drag the dairy product out.

“If you want me to order you a bigger bed,” placing the item on the counter, you rip off the top before you go on a quest to find a clean spoon. “You just have to tell me—I can have one ordered. Mattress too.”

Nikto pauses his work, staring at his own gloved fingers as they still. Even in his seat, he was a large sentinel of mass and brutality; you have to wonder if he ever thinks what other people make of him. Your eyes move up and down his visible form as you grab your utensil with a small breath, your pajamas loose and swaying as you saunter back over to the seat directed across from him.

You wait for him to answer as your fingers tap around the plastic cup, licking your lips before your spoon descends down.

“That is not necessary,” he says, lower than he has before as if confused by your willingness to make him comfortable. You blink up at him, but he glares at his gun.

“I don’t mind,” your voice eases, and you take a bite of your breakfast. “I have the money.”

“Why is it that you have no reservations? No backbone?” Nikto’s words are firm, digging into your mind. His eyes burn like gray fire, a finger twitching over a blackened part that you haven’t the faintest clue as to where it might go.

The gun is placed down next to a cleaning rag that smells of oil as you raise an innocent brow.

“I don’t feel the need to be a constant bitch, if that’s what you’re trying to get at here.” He jerks his head away, shaking it harshly as he grumbles.

You force down a chuckle.

“Hey, Big Guy, I’m just saying that there are more important things than buying you stuff you need—food, a bed,” you shrug, scooping more yogurt. “I don’t know, clothes?” Eyes move up and down again, narrowing carefully. “I’m not trying to judge your style, but you do look like you’re in the middle of an active warzone.”

Half-closed lids stare at you, unimpressed.

“Do you ever stop talking, Whelp?”

“Not really,” you comment, licking your spoon as the pale shade darts down to watch. You point the metal at him as you finish, smiling. “You’re fun to talk to.”

You can imagine him raising a dark brow at that, and perhaps he does, based on the skin that moves from under his mask. But you’d quickly gotten used to his silence, as he only grunted and snatched his rag, rubbing it over the barrel of his gun with firm pressure.

After a minute of you watching while cleaning out your cup, he levels out a response of cold steel.

“I do not need your money…When are we leaving?” Nikto moves the form of his Beretta M9 back and picks up the magazine from the counter, having thoroughly disassembled and cleaned every part for the better half of an hour before you had awoken. He needed to think, and the best place to do that was somewhere silent.

Your constant muttering in your sleep had kept him up, spilling in from the open door.

In many ways, you reminded him of a lost puppy—caught up on your own feet and looking at the world through a lens of false confidence, a sheen of dopey pleasure stuck in your expression. But you weren’t dumb. Not as dumb as he thought you would be when he was informed he was being placed with you.

In fact, your smiling face paired with your fast tongue had been somewhat of a shock. Nikto didn’t like being shocked.

You look at him, your head tilted and your face tight from lack of sleep, eyes beady in the low light. Outside the city was only beginning to wake up, the curtains still closed fast though the steaks of light were cast through like strands of ribbon.

“I usually leave at six.”

“Acceptable.” You hum, cleaning out the rest of your breakfast and licking your lips. Pushing the item to the side, you link your fingers together and lean forward, watching the man push the shadowed length of the magazine into the bottom, a tiny click emanating as it locks in. The bulk of Nikto’s fingers caress the grip

You open your mouth but pause, closing it once more. The words of your mom from years past remind you to keep your elegance, and never stoop to ask pointless questions, but one from yesterday was beginning to flare up once more.

Did Nikto see color? Did he find his soulmate already?

You can’t imagine the man having a significant other, truthfully, but you weren’t heartless like that—it was entirely possible.

Those pale eyes miss nothing, and as the M9 disappears into the holster on his meaty thigh from under the table, he clips out through his accent, “What is it, Girl?”

Your eyes snap up in surprise.

“O-oh,” you huff, “nothing.” He stares blankly, spine rail-straight as you come up with a quick way to change the subject. “Have you eaten yet?”

He watches a moment longer before he grasps his rag and folds it neatly into a square, flattening down the edges—you hadn’t yet noticed, but the journals and random objects on your island were all separated and placed neatly atop one another.

Nikto stands and places the fabric into one of his many pockets, moving his grasp over the various straps along his body that tighten the loose material; checking, assessing for flaws. “I have said—you have no ingredients.”

That makes your head perk up.

“Ingredients?” You pick up your garbage and move to toss it away. “You cook?”

There’s a meaningful pause as if he doesn’t want to tell you about himself. Eventually, there’s a low sigh. Perhaps the warmth of your attitude and the easy way you spoke made him forget his stern muteness; it certainly seemed like it.

“Да. Yes.”

You mutter under your breath, raising a brow. “Wasn’t expecting that.” A low grumble behind you makes your face hide a smirk.

Your hand places your spoon in the sink as Nikto takes out a small journal from his back pocket, flipping through it before he finds a blank page. There’s a flash of a pen before a roughly scribbled-on paper is torn out and slid to you. Picking it up, you send a curious glance to the soldier as he begins speaking formally.

“You need говядина, баранины, рыба, картофель, свекла, лук…” He kept speaking, listing off ingredients as if a checklist for an infiltration team—you run your eyes down the perfect Russian script on the paper, amused. You couldn’t read any of it, unfortunately, or understand exactly what he was saying, but you expected it was the basics.

Your soft laugh interrupts him, and his eyes dart over as he tenses.

Raising the paper, you ease out, “I can’t read this,” you slide it back over, “I’ll leave it in your hands, okay? You said you were going to be doing the shopping anyway.” Your eyes shimmer, before you back up and begin walking away to go get ready. As you pass him, you lean in and flirt. “I think I should buy an apron, too, Nikto. One with a strap that tightens around your waist. Make you my big bad live-in cook.”

Chuckling at his annoyed growl, you pull your blanket closer and begin back upstairs, hand sliding along the back of your belongings until the banister can take your weight.

“I am not your cook,” Nikto barks from the island, boots taking him to stand at the bottom as you gently place your feet down, his clenched hands pulsing in insult.

A distraction, indeed.

You send a laughing glance over your shoulder, not responding as you make it to the top. Without another word, you look him up and down before you disappear into your room, stepping over your yards of fabric.

Nikto glares, his jaw under his mask clenched in deep annoyance. No, you weren’t dumb—but this would have been easier if you were.

Your hand closes your door and locks it, doing the same to the one that connected the soldier’s room to your own. Instantly, your smile drops.

Eyes blinking slowly, tension pulls itself back into your shoulders—infecting your muscles gradually until you press your palms into your eyes and take a deep breath. Leaning against your bed frame, your body rumbled with hunger, and the shaking of your hands got worse the longer you stood.

You were afraid.

Afraid to go outside, afraid of the looks you would get. Afraid of another gift, or even something worse this time around. Bodies hang in the back of your mind, charred. Jewels like starlight, tinted with black blood.

Sighing aggressively, you shake your head and clench your eyes shut.

“It’s going to work itself out,” you tell yourself, going to unlock your phone and find the text from Aly that had gone through last night.

Room 32A w me today! Same photographers as always.

You take a shuddering breath, fighting back the panic. “It’s all going to be over soon.”

Nikto stands downstairs with his arms crossed and his feet apart, gazing at the colors around him with unblinking eyes. He wasn’t the type of man to make comments about this, the mash and clash of shades and hues. But the entire time he’d been here his hands had been itching to re-organize; at least make it seem like this place had some form of structure. He’d tried his best with his own room, but there was only so much he could do.

His piercing blues side-eye the taxidermy deer head on the wall, narrowed to a point of distaste. The man wouldn't be surprised if you’d even named the thing as well.

Nikto grumbles to himself in Russian, muttering about everything from food to the job itself—itching at the sliver of pale skin from between his gloves and the sleeve of his compression shirt under his bracers.

“We will get this done quick,” he growls under his breath in English for practicing sake. “Keep the girl safe and put a bullet in the man at first sight, yes?” Even he has his doubts, and in his gut, he feels this mission will take far longer than anyone thought it would. Just his luck, he was here—missing all the fun. Nikto clenches his biceps tighter, rolling his shoulders with a grunt. “Be back at Base soon.”

If only.

Far more prolonged than he would have taken, you come back down with a small smile on your lips just as he was about to stomp upstairs and demand to know what you were up to. You wear a simple button-down, and the man sees the hue of cream in it as your black dress pants swish around your ankles. He watches closely as you descend, making sure your legs don’t attack themselves and make you meet your end before he has the chance to spill blood.

“Have you been standing there the whole time?” Your eyes blink at him, and Nikto finds himself studying your face, seeing how the shirt sinches at your waist as you have it tucked into your pants. The swell of your hips that are shown off nicely in pleated cotton. A cross-body purse with the words ‘Coach’ hits off your left thigh with every pass of your uneven steps.

Pale eyes slink down your body slowly, and Nikto hums in the back of your throat.

“Nikto?” His gaze turns hard and he snaps his studying vision back to you with a heat in his veins.

Your face scrunches with interest as you wonder what shoes you should wear out. “You with me?”

He scoffs, arms lowering slowly as you slink past, the perfume you’d put on drifting into his nostrils like a vapor of lust. The man cracks his neck and looks back at you as you bend over near your end table, fishing out small black stiletto boots with a tiny heel to them.

Everything you do is layered with extensive thought, down nearing the layer of perfection besides how you drop one of the shoes to the ground with a soft curse before snatching it up.

“Heel?” Nikto ignores your question for one of his own. “You are going to kill yourself.”

“I will not,” you level him with a dry stare. “I’ll be hanging off your arm, Mr. Bear, there’s not a chance in the world I would fall.” He sighs and you chuckle, slipping on the boots with one hand on the wall. “Besides, I work at AMA of all places—showing up without looking my best and potentially getting photographed on the way there would send me on a one-way trip to unemployment.”

Your mind wonders if anything like this was sticking with Nikto; the stack of rules and regulations that was sitting on your head like a rock. While his were probably more life and death, yours were no less strict or strenuous. Everything was routine.

You were nothing but a gear in the machine, but now you were responsible for an entire section if these next few photoshoots went well.

Nikto doesn’t comment, but he slides out a low, “Your hand is shaking.”

“Dystonic tremors,” you respond easily. “Result of brain trauma. They don’t go away, only lesson for a bit.” Standing to your full height, you grab your black double-breasted coat and slip it on. Your soft face tilts to him, a twitch to your lips catching Nikto slightly off-guard at your apparent uncaring attitude to the entire thing. “Let me tell you, my signature is nothing short of crazy-looking lines and slices.”

The small, airy, huff that emanates from under his mask is all the reaction you’ll get to that, and you chuckle before you grab your keys from your purse. All of your make-up took time, especially when you felt about one minute away from losing your cool, but you were both still on schedule.

“Oh,” you say as you slip your key into the slot by the door, calling the elevator. “Be ready for the pictures.”

Nikto blinks, fingers twitching. “Pictures?”

“Just…” you sigh, looking at him, “just try to look less…” Your hand vaguely gestures as he stands there, large shoulders and bulging muscle leaking from behind his kevlar. A vibration in your throat leads to a general sound of, “Eh.”

Pale eyes glower as the sunlight streams in through the closed curtains behind the two of you.

“That means nothing to me.”

“No, I don’t want to be mean,” you wave a hand as the ding signifies the elevator has arrived. You unlock the dividing door and step through as Nikto follows, apparently not needing anything more than what was currently on him. Judging by the combat knife at his thigh and the bulk of his phone and wallet in his pocket, you imagined that really was all he needed. And no one could forget the Beretta, either. There were extra magazines strapped to his vest.

“I do not care about your opinions of me,” the Russian spits. “I am here to do my job and leave.”

Your eyes slide to him as you once more punch your key in and press the button for the lobby.

“I never said you weren’t. You’re just, well,” you pause, “I think you might…scare people.”

You’re leveled with a blank and expressionless look. A frown grows on your face. “Don’t stare at me like that, I’m being honest.”

“I am aware.” His feet shift, hands going behind his back to cross in the perfect image of a killer waiting for an excuse to pounce. Nikto looms beside you, accent harsh. “I am not meant to look anything but.”

You stifle a long sigh.

“If you just lost the get-up, or maybe changed into a suit and lost the mask I could—”

“Нет!” The bark is louder than any before it, and you find yourself flinching immediately, head snapping in his direction as one hand goes to clutch your purse. You suck in a harsh breath of air, blinking quickly.

Burning eyes seer through your flesh and bone, enraged by the prospect as you begin to shrink subtly away, your body leaning more to one side.

A tense silence strangles your throat.

“O-okay,” you whisper, eyes wide as you stare in shock.

The man says nothing and snaps his head like a wolf to look away from you, poking holes through the metal of the box you’re both stuck in together as his biceps jerk in an involuntary reaction. After the outburst, you clear your throat and stand up straight—arms moving to cross themselves over your chest.

But Alyona always said you were too kind for your own good. Or just too trained.

“I’m sorry,” you explain, not looking over as you stutter. “I didn’t know it was a sore subject if I had I…I wouldn’t have brought it up. I apologize, Nikto.”

He says nothing and the entire ride has fallen into a thick atmosphere of uncomfortable thorns; the vines dragging across your skin as it tingles with unease.

I’m getting too comfortable, your eyebrows pull in on your face, lips tight. No more Yefim.

But why was it so easy to speak to Nikto? To poke and prod; to flirt and find the bulge of his body attractive to you. He bled raw murder—sociopathy in the lines next to his eyes making a perfect backdrop to a mask that would look natural speckled in blood. You could imagine him clearly behind the sights of a gun, and even as you envision yourself in the crossfire, the thought doesn’t make you panic.

Why?

Your mind flashes to the memory of him sitting in your kitchen, his large hands caressing the side of his weapon, finger digging into the metal as the material of his gloves bunches. With a frantic blink of your eyes, your face suddenly gains a deep heat to it—throat going dry.

What was happening to you?

You should be terrified down to the bone of this man. So why were your clothes suddenly too tight on your body? Why could you smell the scent of his body; rotting wood and gun oil mixed with sweat from under the kevlar? It was sinking into your nostrils until you had to move a hand up and rub at your nose, chest holding weight.

The Russian side-eyes you.

Nikto stays as still as a statue as the elevator comes to a slow stop, a ding of the door as it pulls back making you snap out of whatever strange trance you were in. You leave quickly, feet walking as fast as they’re able past a suddenly stiff Isaak.

The doorman squeaks when he sees the soldier—those pale eyes darting to the front desk instantly as Nikto follows after you with his canid-loping. Isaak’s body shivers before you exit the building, placing your keys back into your purse with a slow breath to calm yourself.

Yet, it’s not soon after that the looks start up from passing people, and then after, the quick pulling of phones and the lighting of recognition in eyes.

The car is unlocked with a beep from Nikto’s key fob, and you wonder how or when the vehicle got here in the first place.

You puff the collar of your coat and move along the ashen streets until a heavy hand claps on your shoulder. As you snap your head up to look at Nikto, he’s already pushing you away from the concrete ground and instead to a parked car sitting stationary a few feet away.

Camera flashes make your eyes go buggy for a moment, hand slashing the air to connect to the soldier’s wrist to help steady yourself. He grunts next to your ear, sending a fast and sharp command in Russian into the cold air that makes even your back go straight for a second. People halt, their faces shocked and loose before they slightly back up.

“Inside,” the man grumbles, and he releases you as his grip extends to the back door, opening it as his head turns to scan the crowd. You blink up at him slowly, steadying yourself on the frame.

“What did you say to them?” There’s a flash of something across his visible flesh. Amusement?

“It does not matter. Quickly.” You huff and slink inside, carefully slipping into the leather seats before the door is closed behind you with a puff of air. In the relatively still silence, you move a hand and brush against the tiny wound from the explosion, looking out the window and across the multitude of jeering faces.

Like an audience, you yourself the attraction at the zoo, you can’t stop the dark thoughts in your head about who could be out there; locking onto male faces with sneers and others with wide wonder. A man with a beard is taking a video of you, another leaning over to someone at his side and whispering something—they both smirk at each other and snicker. One more just watches, silent, a large jacket over his shoulders and his hands in his pockets.

You stay stuck in your hammering heart’s throws, hands going to rest in your lap and clench over one another.

He’s not out there, your inner monologue reasons, moving your head forward swiftly to try and calm yourself down. He isn’t. He would never come here—and now with Nikto, there’s not going to be any more attacks.

But whoever was doing this wasn’t right in the head, for whatever reason besides they were obsessed with you.

Nikto enters the driver’s seat and slams the door shut behind him. You don’t comment on how he looks far too large to be driving such a normal car, moving to click on your seatbelt as he does the same. As time draws closer and closer for when you walk through AMA’s doors, your anxiety grows like a rising tide.

Jewelry and bits of glass. A bomb under the floorboards.

“Nikto,” you speak as the car pulls out, one of the man’s hands on the wheel and the other resting on the grip of his M9. His eyes move from the reflection in the mirror, meeting yours before they return to the road. As always, there were few cars out. “You know about the,” you take a breath. “The gifts, right? My mom told you?”

“I have been informed, Да. Драгоценности.” You listen to the harsh words, the grating Russian, blankly. Nikto pauses, before pushing out stiffly, his hands on the wheel twitching. “Jewelry.”

You nod, watching him. Your lungs tighten.

“What if this time it isn’t?” This time you get a longer stare, a small grunt of air.

The Russian doesn’t do comfort—he’s not some man who pretends that isn’t what is most likely going to be the case. But he wasn’t in KorTac because he didn’t know what he was doing, either. He would let you go where you needed to go and do what you needed to do, as long as he was an ever-present black shadow beside your pale contrast. Some corrupting demon.

Nikto could adapt and learn faster than anyone, could look at a situation and react accordingly. Call his actions cocky, because maybe deep down they were. He was arrogant in the pride of his skills. And, yes, blunt. Even to a woman that piqued his interest as you did.

The man shifts his gaze away. “It won’t be.”

—

Nikto parks the car on the street, right in front of the doors to your agency. With a nervous glint in your eyes, you let him get out and open your door, standing behind it as you shimmy out. Boots meeting the ground, you make sure you have your bearings before you take another step away. Brushing down your coat and picking off random bits of dust or dirt, Nikto prods you along after the vehicle is locked.

Here, at least, the crowd was slightly subdued, seeing that now there were a few days between you and the explosion at the bakery. Though, it wasn’t vacant.

Journalists wait for you, and Nikto has to use that same tone from before to clear a way for you like a guard dog, snarling fangs and all, as fast Russian is thrown into your face by glaring men and women.

You politely smile and wave a hand as if to try and tell that you can’t understand, nor do you want to participate. “S-sorry, I don’t know what you’re asking me.” You’re met with hard looks up and down; disgusted comments that you don’t need to know the language to fully understand. Your body slightly curls into itself.

Maybe Mom was right about me leaving. Nikto shoves out a hand and all but barks at a man who had come too close for his liking, threatening him with his fingers tapping the grip of his gun.

Who would have known that a former FSB would be so feral, you think to yourself sarcastically. But that wasn’t to say you weren’t thankful. Nikto being scary was perhaps the best thing to come out of this.

You swiftly walk through the front doors, where the journalists and all the other eager ears can't come in, and immediately feel the need to sit down and take a breath. Nikto walks backward into AMA, shouting behind him and waving a hand—eyes from all over lock onto the two of you.

A sheepish smile peels your bloodless face back as the ladies at the front desk pierce you with unimpressed stares.

“Ah…Здравствуйте,” your Russian is still stunted and broken, but you get the formal greeting across even if it makes your vocal cords pull on themselves. The two look at each other and shake their slate heads lightly and what little confidence you had shriveled.

Nikto successfully pushes off the strangers from the door, his appearance and authority so uncanny to them that they send horrified glances to one another and back away. Not without a few choice words, of course. When he casually walks back to your side, you look up at him and innocently open your mouth.

“I don’t think you’re saying anything kind, are you?”

“No,” he glances down at you, shifting his feet as his arms cross. “Why would we?”

You let your small smile crinkle your eyes at that, a tiny chuckle. Nikto’s gaze darts down to study it with a gradually fading tension before you walk forward.

“You don’t like paparazzi?” You’re trying to distract yourself from the event that draws closer and closer as your jerking feet take you to the front desk. Yet, Nikto stays beside you, and you use his body as a guiding point to remain on a semi-straight path.

“I do not like anyone who gets in my way, Woman.” His response is lessened in brutality, but it is nonetheless formal.

But you have either blocked out his response or wiped it from your damaged brain because you furrow your brows at the women at the front as they do nothing. They’d always passed you the box, but now they just stare blandly as your heart rapidly pounds against your ribcage.

Nikto spares you a glance, speaking in fast English. “What is it?”

You frown, palms sweaty. “They usually give me the package right about now.”

The Russian huffs, immediately commenting in his native tongue to the two. They scoff at him and utter something, one giving you a final glance once over as if you were on fire before they both go back to typing at their computers.

It’s a moment before you get a translation. Nikto’s eyelids tighten.

“They have nothing.” Your head perks up, shock filling your senses.

“They…” you trail off, studying the ladies as they ignore you, but not a second later a stomach-tightening fear holds you hostage.

A change in pattern? Your throat clears itself as your name is called from across the lobby, over seating where Yefim and the others had waited for you not days prior—alive and well. If you weren’t too focused on not flailing over, you could have imagined their ghosts sitting there, ready to walk you home.

“Oh,” breathing out a slow response, you take a small step back and ignore the curious look from your ice-like guard.

“Seraph!” Alyona’s voice calls to you, and as you slowly pass Nikto, feeling a bit lightheaded, before her hands grab your arm and you’re pulled into a tight hold. “Солнышко.”

You take in the scent of clean clothes and warm fire and instinctually sag forward.

“Aly,” you sigh. The arms squeeze you tightly, slightly shaking you back and forth until a firm kiss is pressed into your temple.

Alyona pulls back after a few seconds, grabbing you by the cheeks and tilting your head to the side to stare at the tiny mark there—barely noticeable anymore.

“There, you see? Almost gone, Seraph, just like this entire situation will be.” She smiles as a way of reassurance, her hair straight as a line. “It is good to see you in person again. I missed my friend, and I apologize for being unable to come and see you. Nikifor was too worried about me.”

“And I’d never hold that against him,” you shook your head, feeling her hands fall from you softly. “You didn’t have to come over for me to know you were worried.”

“Ah,” she scoffs, eyes delicate along her angled features. “But it would have made me feel better, no? I’m selfish.”

Forcing a smile, you skip past the greetings and get to the point in a quick whisper of shock and fear.

“There isn’t a gift.” Her face goes concerned, stuttering without knowing what to say before her head swivels the open lobby. At the people who might be listening.

“That might not be bad,” Aly hurriedly says, only sending Nikto a strange glance before putting a hand on your back and moving you down one of the hallways to your changing rooms. “You do not know that it is a horrible thing, Little Солнышко, I promise you. Maybe the monster has finally come to his senses now that the authorities are opening a case on him.”

“It isn’t that simple,” you try to hold onto the thread of your sanity as your Russian dog follows at your heels, listening but not showing it behind his blank stare. “I-I’ve been reading up on it, stalkers just don’t stop especially after something like that—he’s already gone too far.”

“Shh,” Aly firmly hushes you, gripping you closer to her as men and women pass by, some pausing to try and speak before they’re gowled away by Nikto. “No, no, why would you look up things such as that? Seraph it’s not that simple—this cannot be explained away by papers or studies. This is a bad person, and that is the end of it. We need to have patience and keep steady.” She tries to tease you back to your soft malleability. “Come now, I know you have trouble with that, but I think your good friend here is well enough on her feet to hold you. I have no trouble with it, yes?”

You give a damp chuckle, licking your lips and looking anywhere but at her.

“I’m scared, Aly,” you admit, and you don’t see Nikto’s vision fully focused on you. “I don’t want to be in public right now I–”

Your breath hitches and you’re quickly reminded about your makeup, and how hideous you’ll look if you mess it up right now. A hand raises and covers your mouth, your shaky breath hitting the digits as you try to restrain your tears.

“Easy,” Alyona mutters, patting the back of your back softly as she takes a quick left, pulling you into a side room and closing it before Nikto can slip inside. He knocks on the door immediately, but with a heavy order in Russian, Aly has you alone in here with a flick of the light.

It’s a storage room, larger and holding mops and buckets.

“Explain,” the woman whispers. “Talk to me. No tears now, my Seraph.”

You suck down a deep breath, hands shaking violently, and even a bit painfully as the nerves pinch and tighten. Aly’s hands cover yours, squeezing them as you hiss.

“Speak,” she urges. “It will make you feel better.”

“I don’t know what to do,” your throat tightens. “I-I got a text last night and I haven't told Nikto about it.”

“Text? From…from the—”

“Yes.” Your eyes dig into hers. “I feel like I’m being hunted. Like…like every turn I make there’s something else around the corner; people's faces scare me, I don’t know what they’re thinking.”

“Seraph…” Aly’s face scrunches, pain etched in her expression.

“I can’t go to sleep without seeing their bodies,” you whimper, and the woman already knows who you’re talking about. “I can’t sleep, Alyona. I’m so tired, and my mom, she…she just…” You shut yourself off, moving back a step and waving your hands. “I want to be able to tell her things, but I can never get the words out—she’s,” the large shadow of boots from the crack in the door spread along the white floor. “I wish I could speak to her as I speak to you, I want to lean on her for support through this.”

A tear leaks down from your cheek and you quickly wipe it away, stopping your rant for the final time.

“I’m sorry,” you breathe, tone changing. “No, I’m sorry, I can’t put that on you.”

Aly takes you into a hard hug, arms around your waist and holding firm.

“Lord, Солнышко. Do not apologize to me.” You both stay there, and it gets harder to hide your ragged breath. She sighs and rests her head above yours. “You are too good, Seraph. Too good for this.”

She holds you, harder than you can remember anyone doing since you were little. Staring at the door and Nikto’s shadow, the conversation shifts to him as if a piece of paper in the wind.

“And about the beast? I am not sure I like him yet.” A meaningful pause. “I know I said not to fuck him on the first day, but if the size of him is anything to go by…”

You laugh, taken aback by the shift in her tone. The woman smirks as if a plan had worked out.

“I’m not going to fuck him, Aly. Christ.”

“I am just being honest, yes?” Her eyes shift to the door. “I have Nikifor, of course, but even he isn’t as monstrous as that. If you do choose to get into bed with him,” you groan, mood lightning. “You’ll need a wheelchair after he’s done rutting into you like a—”

“Alyona!”

From the other side of the door, Nikto taps his foot on the floor slowly, his arms crossed and his glare stuck into the far wall as heavy laughter spills out from under. He growls, annoyed, and speaks to himself in his native tongue as he’s been doing a lot lately. Nikto watches people pass by without moving his head as if a toy as his eyes slide when a shadow darts one way.

His mind moves to the lack of a gift, and the Russian’s guarding form tries to figure out the next move while the two women hide away. No gift was a strange turn of events, but he wasn’t about to try and say he was an expert in stalkers—his only job was to keep you alive and let the authorities track the animal down.

Nikto’s brain remembers the sheer panic that had washed your features and grunts to himself, thighs tensing.

The only thing he could call you was strange, and already from only knowing you for less than two days, he had attributed that fact to you. Strange. Attractive, obviously, as there was no getting past that. But strange. Not like the women he’d been around in his life before—you apologized for things like asking about his mask. No one had ever done that before.

Nikto’s hidden throat bobs in a swallow as a large group of photographers walk through the hallways, speaking to one another about an upcoming photoshoot. Your name and your friends being mentioned make his attention shift back, his neck tilting to follow the group and listen in on the fast Russian conversation.

“...Explosion?”

“The two are popular…”

“—See how many shoots they have lined up, Fedorov says the calendar is booked!”

“He has them ready to ship out to parties as well…guess who’s going to get a raise now that the whores are even more famous? Us!”

The soldier’s eyes narrow violently, heart jerking to the pulse of disgust.

“Fools,” he scoffs, slicing his head away as the laughter spikes up from the group.

The door behind him opens, and his pale eyes blink as he casually steps to the side, his arms still crossed as his neck bends to you as your form walks through the entrance.

His chest slows at the sight of your red-rimmed eyes, the color hitting his pupils instantly. Still, he keeps his tongue, only studying you for a long moment as you sigh under your breath.

“Sorry about that, Nikto,” you spread a kind look over your face like butter. Again with the apologies.

“Who is this?” A finger is motioned to Alyona as she elegantly walks out, looping an arm through yours. Nikto already knew, of course, but he wants it from you.

Your friend surprises him and speaks first with a haughty tone, inspecting him as she speaks.

“Alyona Arkadyevna Solovyova,” an icy brow is raised. “You are?”

Nikto tenses, and the pair size the other up like bears. You elbow your friend in the side lightly, amusement hiding the still nervous lines along your forehead.

The soldier pushes out slowly, “...Nikto.”

Alyona huffs. “Just Nikto? Никто?”

A stiff grunt. You watch the Russian’s visible skin go tight with blatant irritation.

“Alright,” you mutter gradually, feeling the tension that had formed. “We all need to get going. We have to get our schedules, Aly.”

“Right,” the woman sighs. “Busy week.”

“Busy month,” you grumble, but you slide her a thankful look. Alyona hums and lets her expression soften.

“I will need floor plan,” Nikto interrupts, and you nod without a beat as Aly walks with you down the hall, unwittingly following the same path as the photographers that the masked man had seen not minutes prior.

“I’ll get my manager on it, you’ll have one by the end of the day.”

“Copy.”

Aly utters into your ear as she guides you slightly faster. “He’s…”

You puff air. “Scary?”

Her eyes tell you all the answers you need and you let out a tiny, defeated sigh in response.

—

You wear a silk robe as you lounge in the studio's seat, your bare legs crossed over themselves as everyone waits for Alyona to change out of her previous clothes. Closing your eyes and letting them rest from the constant white light from above, the skimpy pajama set under the silk was nothing short of insulting.

But this was what you signed up for, after all.

You can’t even recall the brand that had paid for this, too caught up with your neck hairs constantly pointing up in caution. There were many people in the room, and you only took solace in the few that were familiar to you—certain photographers you’d seen around including your own, and the other women here with you for when the space was free.

But none even looked at you beyond a smirk and a quick whisper to their friends.

Well, none but Nikto.

He turns his gaze away only to scan the room, and then those orbs always rove back like a security camera; if you weren’t so on edge, you’d find it funny—cute even. Like a little robot of obsidian death. Across the divide, you send a quirk of your lips as the front door opens.

“Let us get this over with, yes?” Alyona’s outfit is the color opposite of yours, and you snicker at the fact she must have walked from the changing room without putting on her robe to get here.

Pajamas had been too nice of a word, the reality of it was tight lace and restraining straps along your thighs, making the skin move away and your ribs go inward. See-through tights and horrible little bows at your navel and in between your breasts.

Lingerie.

Your fiery friend's words from days before had been a prediction it seemed, because you had dates lined up for intimate apparel for an entire three days; today was the only joint photoshoot as well. You felt like a puppet.

Standing, you untie your robe and slip it off, folding it over your arm before placing it down on the chair. White, of course, is the color that was chosen for you, and black for Alyona. Padding over to the plain backdrop, carefully dodging the ring lights and the camera equipment, you speak easily as eyes dig into the both of you.

Envious or lustful, it didn’t matter to you. You just wanted this to be over so you could go home.

“This is the first thing that they put us into?” You have to ask, plucking at the line of elastic that pushes up your breasts uncomfortably as you grimace. “We almost get blown up and I’m getting shoved into lace?”

“Just think of the money, Little Seraph,” Aly reminds blandly and you frown. “Money, and then we can fill our days with whatever it is we choose after we get wrinkled and they finally let us go.”

Nikto no longer stares.

His head is stuck to the door, tilted away from the scene of you and the blonde, from the flashes of the camera. You wonder at his hulking shoulders before your photographer’s fingers snap for you to look at them, and you do so with a practiced face of no thoughts and curve your body to fit beside Alyona’s.

This continues for multiple hours, different sets, and the same dead mind that it takes to successfully pull the look off. No one wants you to think, to show real emotion—they want a manufactured image, and so you give it to them. It’s the only thing you can do right, and even then it had come down to a fifty-fifty draw with genetics; a brawl of metabolism and walking on nails.

A model tries to speak to Nikto, and you find your gaze slipping over as she does—her flapping lips moving but the man’s interest not shifting for a second. You tilt your head from where you sit on the floor, surrounded by soft fabrics like feathered blankets that tickle your open skin. A nest, nearly.

The soldier's body pivots, and he fully turns away from the model and faces you head-on. You furrow your brows as the woman’s face goes a deeper shade of gray—angry. She spits something at him before marching away like an angry cat.

You meet Nikto’s face and your lips part in question, one arm keeping you up as your legs are folded. Alyona is off on break, so at this point, it has come down to only the photographer, your guard, and the few other models in question. As you study each other, the man’s hard eyes never soften, never even ease away from a dead nothingness as they slide down—just like your ‘perfect’ face.

You feel his gaze caress you like he had his gun, and with a tingle in your flesh you can suddenly imagine him doing the same to you; taking you apart bit by corrupt bit until you’re left shaking for another reason.

Clearing your throat, you instantaneously tear your eyes off him and his seemingly widening stance before you can see him do the exact same. The camera ahead of you flashes, and the unimpressed Russian words that come your way make you hunch.

“Apologies, Fédor,” you ease, nodding. “I was distracted.”

The dark eyes of the photographer only soften slightly, but the professional knife returns. Yet, before the next burn of the flash into your retinas, there's a commotion from out in the hallway.

Your head snaps to it, the pound of footsteps and the call of fast words, but arms are already grabbing you, the camera taking a shot involuntarily as the sudden slam of the door makes Fédor flinch.

Nikto carries you by your waist, and you yelp in shock at being so easily manhandled away. Your feet are set back down and your robe is tossed to you as you scramble to snatch it.

An immovable stone is leveled in front of you, and you gaze widely at the soldier’s back as the bulk of Nikto’s hand is placed on his M9.

“Keep behind me,” he grunts and you stutter out a rapid affirmative as you hurry into your robe, tying off the strap. Your head only slightly peaks out from behind him as your palm lays flat on his back.

Nikto tenses but says nothing at the action as the door opens quickly.

Your manager is pushing his way through the confused and annoyed employees, barking and snarling at anything before he can finally shift his body and find you. In his hands, he holds a large wrapped box.

“You!” He booms in loud English, and you take a swift inhale as your pulse soars.

Nikto’s body straightens as the man moves closer to you two, but the soldier doesn’t let him come any closer than three feet before he gives a cold, and firm word.

The raging manager tries to lock eyes with you, moving his legs back and forth and divulging into his native tongue. You wished that learning Russian had come easy to you because you would certainly be less scared and nervous than you are right now. Everyone watches, and people from the hallways even peek inside to listen.

Whatever it is the man is saying, it’s certainly interesting, because many cover their mouths with their hands and widen their eyes.

“Nikto?” You ask quietly.

“Hush,” is all he responds with, but his hand falls from his weapon and that alone makes your clenched digits on the back of his kevlar loosen a smidge.

You glance at all the searing eyes and look to the floor, confidence shriveling even at work. Your face burns with embarrassment as the barrage continues on, but inside of your chest, you enjoy how quick the Russian was in his actions to keep you safe—far faster than you could be with your internal injuries.

Nikto talks to your manager lowly, with no emotion in his tone as his mask tilts down. One last growled word and glare, and the finely dressed man points back at you before he shakes his head, shoving the parcel into Nikto’s hands. He turns and leaves, trailing smoke as he shoves through the crowd in the doorway.

Everything is deathly silent, and you feel entirely left out of the loop as dread grows.

There are so many eyes here.

Your body shivers, but you do the best you can to look collected—your hand dropping back down to your side as the whispering starts back up. Vision sneaking from one gray blob to another, your jaw clenches when the paranoia once more leaks into you, as if an old lover trying to claw its way back into your heart.

What’s going on? Your brain hurts.

Nikto utters to you, holding the package firmly in front of him. “Get dressed. We are leaving.”

“What’s in the box?” Your voice is tiny, face imploring him to answer even if you don’t exactly want one.

You know who it came from, and morbid curiosity would be the end of you. It should be burned, tossed away, and hidden. But how would you be able to catch him if you didn’t have evidence?

Nikto glances over his shoulder at you. He pauses. Repeats. “Get dressed.”

It doesn't take much convincing.

You’re trailed by him even for the short walk to the changing room, your voice kindly asking people to move out of the way. The only reason they do is because of the black void behind you, of course, but the important part is that they move regardless.

“Nikto,” you speak out in the hallway, the man corralling you so that his body is nearest to the foot traffic and your hand slides along the wall. “I-I can’t just leave, I still have appointments lined up until the end of my shift. There’s the dress fitting and the makeup change at two, before I have the—”

You continue on, but the soldier is back to his muteness; great walking form only holding the box in one hand while the other is resting securely on his M9—you guessed that would be a pattern like the use of ‘we’ in his sentences.

He stops you with a grunt. “We are getting you back to your property. I need to be in contact with security team.”

“Security?” You halt outside the changing room door, holding out a quivering hand. “Nikto, I need answers. What made my manager act like that? Why aren’t you showing me what’s inside that box?”

“You do not need to see it,” he explains blankly. “Unimportant.”

You flatten your lips, not speaking while a group passes by behind him. The both of you eye them, but you continue after they leave, dark shadows in the corner of your vision.

“If it’s about me, then it’s not unimportant—I will not be kept out of the loop. Not after Yefi—” Your voice fizzles, but you shake your head and slow your pulse. “More people are in danger than just me if there’s going to be another public attack. I need to know what’s going on at all times. My mom won’t let me know about the active investigation, but as long as you’re working under me,” you take a breath, “then I order you to.”

Nikto’s pupils tighten, lungs in his chest stilling. It’s a battle of wills that takes place, and you’re not exactly one to win those.

Before long you’re being pushed back into the room behind you with a growl, and you blink quickly as those who had been in the hallways all look on with wide and shocked expressions as the door shuts behind Nikto’s back. You’re left standing as you steady yourself when the Russian lets go.

“I do not take orders from you.” He spits, visible flesh swimming with irritability. “Remove that from your mind, Whelp. I am here to watch after you, nothing more.”

Again, outward confrontation was never your strong suit.

“And I’m trying to watch after myself,” you say in a low and even tone. “Three people are dead—I’m making sure that no one else is going to get injured because of me.”

Teeth snap, a hand waved in exasperation.

“That is brainless. Others would not care about you, given the same situation.” You're looked down at, and you can envision a sneer on his lips easily. You frown and cross your arms.

“You’re rude.”

Nikto blinks quickly.

“What?”

“You’re rude,” you say again, nose in the air. “Mean. Ill-mannered. Impudent, if you will.”

The lights of the room buzz over your head, white on every surface. It’s funny, really, how this building cloaks itself in a veil of perfection and purity when the complete opposite is going on. And no one seemed to be doing anything to make it easier.

“You do not know how to keep your tongue behind your teeth, Woman,” Nikto bites, hands over the box clenched tight. “I am doing you a favor, but you are intent on biting the hand that feeds.”

You don’t respond, glaring softly with a tapping finger over your robe.

Nikto’s eyes flash, chest rumbling. But he looks like he made up his mind with no real care at all for what this might do to you—if you were acting like this, fine, he would give you what you were asking for.

“So be it,” he snarls, accent harsh and brutal.

The box is shoved into your arms and the man turns on his heels and stalks out. You watch him go, licking your lips and sighing slowly as the door slams.

Your neck carefully bends downward, and you delicately run your fingers over the bare cardboard, feeling the bumps and the bends in the material. The interaction left a sour taste in your mouth, but you could worry about your people-pleasing nature later, this was far more important.

One more shaky breath, and you’re placing the package on the pale top of a vanity, sitting it in the middle between makeup brushes and a notepad. You used this room more than the others, so you supposed you could call it yours in a strange ‘I’m always seen here, so it’s mine’ way. Like an unassigned-assigned seat in a university.

“He wouldn’t give it to me unless it was safe, right?” Your voice echoes, but you know the answer. Nikto valued the mission above all else, anything to get there was wasted on him.

The wide eyes of the crowd were blooming in the back of your head, your brain pulsing. Unconsciously, one of your hands goes back to rub at the base of your skull, fingers lightly dragging up and down to itch at an irreversible scar hidden in your hair.

Shaking your head, you pull back and rub your digits into your sweaty palms. The hair on your arms stands up, and, hot in your robe, you undo the strap and let the garment hang open.

With a steadying breath and tingling nervousness, the back of your eyelids explodes with gray fire as you pull at the top of the box, the cardboard slipping away from one another. Now or never.

You see the dead-eyes first, and the feathers after.

A hand snapping to your mouth, you cover your sharp shock as the image of three dead doves lay mutilated in the confines of plastic bags. Across the front of the material lay three names in quivering English script.

Petya.

Aleksandr.

Your horrified gaze locks onto the last, its tiny wings broken and legs ripped from its body of white purity. Ripped in half. An angel of wind and clouds, stuffed into a cage with its dark blood sloshing around in a bag of murder.

Yefim.

The others had been burned, feathers curling and ashy beaks open wide.

Tears sting behind your eyelids, mouth perpetually open to the pure disgust you feel—the sword that pierces what little you’d built yourself back up.

You don’t know how long you stay there, staring, but while you’re trapped in your terror, Nikto has already called the investigators he’d been told would be heading your case and informed them of more evidence in curt sentences.

Maybe the cameras had picked up someone walking into your manager’s office, where the package had been left.

In his mind, he called you foolish, and he truly did mean it.

How pig-headed could you be? And yet at the same time, he knew from your interactions that you were unused to this harsh city’s climate. People here didn’t care about you, and they wouldn’t. Even the man he had just hung the phone up on seemed eager to get back to the cigarette that Nikto had heard being lit up instead of helping the Western Woman and her Consul mother.

While the soldier had his reservations as well, he cared little for semantics. He had a job, and he would see it through. Nikto didn’t concern himself about you or your feelings; he didn’t care about your fear. You were someone he needed to watch like a pet, and he would. What else would he do?

To keep you alive was the only priority, and alive was an easy thing to make happen. He knew alive very well, and the gray area in between it.

Nikto was born and bred for this, and he was nothing but a cliff-face with the dig of a climber’s hook stuck in the side, his own stubbornness butting heads with the mountain goat that was you and your melting eyes. That smile.

That body clothed in tight lace.

Nikto growls to himself and slams a hard fist to your door twice.

“Девушка! Hurry up!” His ears twitch to the sound of muffled sobs and his hand freezes above the door before a third strike can boom over the hallway.

He blinks slowly.

Arm lowering, he scoffs to himself before his hands cross his chest, the weight of his shoulders barring down as a janitor slinks past, pushing a cleaning bucket. Nikto picks up on the green of his eyes as they lock with his, and the two are locked in with one another until the soldier’s lids narrow dangerously.

The man pads on and turns a corner.

When your form graces him once more, the man has brushed his kevlar of nonexistent dust, eager to leave this place for a more secure area even for just the time being.

He does not mention the glossiness of your eyes or the panicked, and not well handled, swiping of your mascara streaks. You’re back in your normal clothes. Nikto only takes the box you wordlessly offer him, and the contents inside that he had been made aware of prior.

It was your decision—he’d tried to tell you.

“Good,” he utters, not glancing at your quick lungs. “Come.”

He walks, and after a swaying moment, you jerkily step after.

Your pulse is so loud it drowns out the comments people make as they look at you, no longer a kiss on your cheek or a pat on your shoulder—now it was distrust and caution. What if something happened to them while you were around?

I’m not infected, your brain tries to ease you, your vision a dark tunnel that stays stuck to Nikto’s wide back as he carves a path. This isn’t my fault.

Three dead little doves to call your own sit in a cardboard box, and the realization of no letter strikes you like a punch to the gut.

“No letter,” you mumble, arms crossing and fingers digging into your biceps. “Why wasn’t there a letter?”

Your body stumbles out of the front doors, the ladies at the desk calling to you in confusion, and Nikto unlocks the car; opening it. Without another word, you get in.

This isn’t my fault.

TAGS:

@anna-banana27, @random-thot-generator, @midwesternwitchery, @pumpkinwitchcrusade, @halfmoth-halfman, @alpineswinter, @blingblong55, @cryingnotcrying, @lxne20, @not-eclipse, @theecoffeebean, @phoenixhalliwell, @h3ll-guttz, @tiinkerbell, @genjilvr, @azush4rp, @escapefromrealitysm, @neelehksttr, @aeneanc, @finnigansxz, @cowboybaby2, @delaynew, @doggydale, @zapphir, @littlemisstrouble, @xxtmoe, @grizzersmamma, @andreas-river, @blogdddxx, @jade-jax, @emthegrace, @lovebugmsyd, @makariaspresence, @noisyprofessorhoundsalad-blog, @scythebot, @blueoorchid, @kra-rino4ka, @caramlizedtomatoes, @strawberymilk,@frazie99, @homicidal-slvt, @develised, @crispyhusband, @cathnoneofyourbusiness, @ghostslittlegf, @generalcloudtraveler, @azsteris, @rvjaa, @creminemisinthehizzyforshizzboy, @comsyki

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the-kr8tor · 5 months ago

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In Pursuit of Blood: Vampire or Cowboy?

A/N: just something silly that spawned in @pleaktale and I's dms lol enjoy!

Pairing: Vampire! Hobie Brown x fem! Reader

Word count: 1.8k

Synopsis: the camera crew finds something amiss.

Tags: No use of Y/N, no specific physical description of the reader, CW blood mention, Vampire! Hobie, Hobat 🦇, Vampire AU, mockumentary AU, set in the WWDITS universe, FLUFF

In Pursuit of Blood/vampire! Hobie Masterlist

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Buy me a ☕?

The camera enters Hobie's familiar abode. Red velvet curtains that drape along ceilings and windows greet the camera crew. There's a noticeable lack of dust and spiderwebs around the place, books properly shelved, and no evidence of blood on the now spick and span floors. There's even a fancy lavender scented candle sitting on the newly polished grand piano that's placed inside the interview room that was formerly known as the living room; or as you humorously called it when you moved in— the ‘undead room’.

Even with the mansion clean of any grime since the last time the crew visited, there's a lack of you or Hobie lingering around the vast corridors. The flame on the candle flickers, the producer expects Hobie to jump out at them any second now with his fangs out to scare them. After a beat, there's still no trace of a vampire telling them to fuck off.

There's a sigh behind the camera, the lenses zoom in and out of the opened supply closet that was left open where buckets of murky water sits. Used cloths are hanging from the shelves, jugs of soap and bleach sit half empty next to the dusty fabric. The entire place is like a ghost town where the occupants hurriedly left their dinner on the table, but this time they're cleaning supplies. The crew is left scratching their heads, not even a sound can be heard except for their footsteps against wood, and wires dragging across the floor. The camera whips around the quiet place, paintings upon paintings are the only sign of life left hanging on the walls.

The camera enters Hobie's record room where portraits and things full of sentimental value from your ancestors lie. There's no one in the room, not even a lone spider is left on the ceiling. A whispered “where the fuck are they?” Can be heard from the boom mic guy. The front doors were left unlocked for the crew to enter so that means that you and Hobie were expecting them.

The crew continued on, they passed by the front gates and the porch when they first entered so that means you weren't there doing your afternoon stretching. And with the sun still up, Hobie cannot be caught outside lest he crumples into dust. So there's only one place they need to check, Hobie's mysterious bedroom. The crew hasn't stepped foot in the room just yet, or even seen it for that matter. There was just no need for them to enter, until now. If he's missing, he could be sleeping inside his coffin, and where Hobie is, you'd be there.

Sure enough, when they climbed up the stairs and into the long hallway, the crew sees ripped packages scattered on the floor. Plastic packaging and boxes from an online shop are left like bread crumbs that lead towards the bedroom door that's left ajar.

Every person on the crew quietly makes their way to the door, an almost impossible feat considering there's seven of them lagging behind the main camera. The hallway grows dimmer, as they walk, the light left inside the room acts as a lighthouse to the stalking documentary crew. The cameraman is the first person who made it in front of the door, he kneels down silently despite the heavy camera on his shoulder. He turns the lenses inside the ajar door, peeking inside. With an adjustment of his lens, he zeroes in on your giddy face, grin wide and happy, hands occupied with what looks like a bat doll in front of you.

“So. Fucking. Cute!” You squeal, fists shaking from the adorable sight. You sit on a comfortable chair with Hobie's desk in front of you, already taking hundreds of pictures with your phone.

While you were too occupied with your dress up bat, the camera zooms in on the toy bat. Meanwhile, the other crew members peek overhead, trying not to make a peep whilst they look for Hobie inside the room. His coffin is wide open, red plush velvet lining around the strong oak resting place. The producer is sure that she saw a polaroid of you tucked inside the velvet, and an extra pink pillow with a matching blanket inside. Her thoughts are interrupted by Jared the cameraman, who's currently tugging at her sleeves. She follows where the camera points, failing to see anything except for the unmoving bat, she taps her tablet awake to see what the camera sees more clearly.

She almost gasps at the sight. The camera has fully zoomed in on the bat’s face where a dozen or so piercings lie, the same piercings a certain vampire has. The said bat/vampire has a cowboy hat on, complete with a tiny feather decorating it. Instead of Hobie's black leather vest, a brown fringed vest has replaced it. There's even a gun belt around his tiny waist that has a very miniscule gun that glints in the yellow lamp of his desk.

Bat Hobie's eyes just stare at you, slowly blinking, nose twitching but not from annoyance. The crew can see that he's staying still for you, something they've never thought was possible in their six months of filming him and you. The camera lenses zoom out, showing the vast costumes on the floor next to the desk. There's the classic vampire cloak that's laying on a red chiffon dress, (oh Jared would kill to see bat Hobie in that) a chef hat next to dozens of plastic toy shoes that they're not sure would even fit a bat’s feet. But of course they're proven wrong when you carefully lift up bat Hobie's foot to place the cutest (most accurate) cowboy boots on each of his tiny feet.

You squeal again, Hobie puffs up his chest, posing for the camera. “Hell yeah! Just like that and you're on the cover of Vogue, Hobie!” They can all tell that the cowboy outfit is his favourite from the way he poses.

There's more unopened packages next to you, but you're still not satisfied with his look. In between your fingers, you hold a gilded sheriff badge. The crew watches as Hobie rejects the badge with a screech. He bares his fangs, for a moment, the crew is afraid that he'd bite you, forgetting that he's not an actual bat but an actual vampire that could drain you of your blood within a minute. You're not phased about it, not one bit. The pout on your lips and your puppy dog eyes can be seen from the camera. Hobie shakes his tiny head, large floppy ears swaying around as he moves.

You sigh, relenting. Hobie waddles his way towards your hand, taking it in his claws gently, and then he does what the crew would never expect from the most powerful vampire they've ever known. Hobie leans into your palm, giving you a little kitten lick across the pad of your finger. And then you do the unexpected, even in the entire crew's wildest dreams they could never think of it; based on how you, a vampire hunter from a renowned vampire hunting family could interact with a vampire you were tasked to kill three years ago. You lean down to kiss his fluffy cheek, he even has his eyes closed the entire time, savouring your affection yet chaste kiss. Chuckling, you're still not satisfied, you peck him once again to his delight. Hobie makes a purring sound from the kiss, the crew is sure that they cannot air whatever they're seeing.

“Aww, okay, no badge.” You shift in your seat, talking softly at bat Hobie. Ducking down towards the boxes to take a plastic horse, Hobie now has the perfect view of the peeping camera crew.

His stare freezes them in place, they don't know if he's embarrassed by the whole ordeal they caught him in, or Hobie's trying to intimidate him with a look. Either way, the camera crew is petrified.

“Horsey?” You ask, still oblivious to the danger that lies behind Hobie's red beady eyes. “Or no horsey?” You poke his fluffy side, sweetly calling his name. “You okay? What's wrong? We can stop if you're not having fun anymore.” The crew can barely recognize how sweet you're talking to him. Especially just last week you threw a knife at his head because he watched an episode without you.

Hobie flicks his eyes away from the crew, they sigh audibly, feeling their blood rush through their veins once again. They've seen what true fear was like, and you don't envy them when you turn around towards the sound.

“You guys are early. Again.” You nonchalantly say. “We're not done yet. Do you guys mind closing the door?” The crew is still frozen behind the door, some are gasping for air, some are just flat out terrified.

A puff of black smoke appears, and Hobie in all his glory, comes into view behind the fog like a theater curtain opening for him. He's in his regular clothes, but for some reason, the cowboy costume you've put on him also grew with him. The fringe vest fits perfectly on him, the spurs on his cowboy boots shine in the yellow lamp as he sits on the desk, one leg up on the table as you continue to sit in front of him while you're taking more photos of him.

“I don't understand the logic but holy shit this is the hottest thing ever.” You gasp, the shutters of your phone camera clicking relentlessly. Hobie glances at you, face hidden behind the brim of his hat, shadows covering his face. You smile at him, eyes roaming over him, fingers tugging at the hem of his vest. “Goddamn.” You sigh.

“Later, love. I need to get rid of pests.” He says with a nudge of his boot on your leg, there's tenderness hidden underneath it. But his eyes tell the opposite, with a flick of his hat, the crew has the perfect view of his eyes. The pupils of his wine red eyes move about, shaking in anger. “Get out.”

There's a gust of wind as he quickly moves to the door, crouching down, eye to eye with the camera, he stares at the lenses until the glass cracks. With a glance towards their terrified faces, they all run away for their lives. As if Hobie would actually kill them, especially if he can just tell them to delete the footage. Worst case scenario, he can delete the memory from their minds. It will be like dragging a file towards the trash bin icon but instead of a file it's their brains. They'll just get a headache for a few days, even so, he doesn't want to do that. Maybe he can reason with them by telling them (in front of their camera) a story during his time in the 1920s. Or maybe just pay for the lenses he broke.

As the entire crew runs, the mics capture your muffled yet loud laughter behind the door when Hobie slams the door shut.

Support banner by @/cafekitsune

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muiitoloko · 18 days ago

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Daddy’s Little Shopper

Summary: Frank, the doting shopkeeper, learns the art of compromise as Emma turns her pretend purchases into a heartwarming family memory.

Pairing: Frank Benson × Fem! Reader & OC

Warnings: None