#please make sure to read the tags and trigger warnings on the stories
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I decided to make a list of actually really good (lgbtq) wattpad stories because i feel like its hard to come by a good one nowadays, and who knows maybe someone who sees this post is desperately looking for something
(All of these include very good to extraordinary writing, imo)
Catching Rainbows by FairlyLocalTreehouse
Luna falls for Chloe at first sight… literally, off a ladder. And it’s the beginning of a beautiful friendship, after Luna gets past the fact that Chloe doesn’t seem to be single
Sapphic, great autistic rep, really sweet and heartwarming
Vanilla by theCuppedCake
Julian White doesn’t say his real name in self-introductions. Hiding behind his middle name and a pair of overly round glasses, he tries to get through the tenacity of attending a competitive culinary school under his uncle’s influence. Amidst his learning of crust structures and the nutritional value of bananas, he meets an old friend
MLM, best writing I’ve seen in a while, cried for 30 minutes after reading, probably my favorite Wattpad book ever (strongly suggested autistic main character, but not confirmed) sequel is currently being written
The Kids Aren’t Alright by bee_mcd
The year is 1988, and Finn, Ronan, Becca and Jasper are spending the summer at a reformatory camp located deep in the Yukon. The camp, named Lightlake, is the last chance the teens have to get their lives back on track, but changing for the better isnt easy - and especially not at a place like Lightlake, where secrets outnumber the campers and myths have a way of coming to light
Amazing summer read, mainly focus on friendship but also MLM main character and a sapphic side character, sequel is also currently being written
When Shadows Rise (previously called When Queens Fall) by HeleySulich
A magic addicted spy trapped in the queen’s service must take a princess-turned-assassin in order to earn her freedom, but things get complicated when she falls for the princess she’s supposed to capture
Now a paid story, i wanted to include it regardless because its just so amazing, i wish i could reread it but i don’t have money lol. WLW, great world building, non binary rep, dark fantasy
Being Wrong by overlordpotatoe
When Charlie gets away from his drug dealing father and is sent to live with his grandparents, things aren’t suddenly okay. Charlie’s broken. He’s not sure he ever wasn’t broken. When things get unbearable, the only thing that helps Charlie feel grounded is music. What can he do when he runs out of battery for his walkman?
MLM, autistic main character, I’ve reread this book at least four times, its my ultimate comfort read, it actually contributed to me realizing i might be autistic, and look at me now, a formal diagnosis and all
The Gay Gatsby by mismatchedsockslife
When two high school boys find themselves being forced into partnership for a class project, things get interesting. With Callaway’s snarky remarks and hidden secrets, and Chance’s accidental girlfriend, their path to completing high school is anything but straight
MLM, if you’re looking for good angst, this one right here. Amazing writing, amazing characters, great overall
The Broken Song by NotJuliaChild
Elusia Vale is the most fabulous adventurer, swordswoman, thief and lover to ever grace Ishara, and she is always the first to say so. Her life has been filled with excitement and reckless abandon, but how long can she outrun the tempests she leaves in her wake?
If you’re bummed that When Shadows Rise is a paid story, read this instead, its just as fantastic and free. WLW, multiple main characters if I remember right, very long lmao, I’m still reading it
Conan The Dandelion by letsgohomehidee
Conan moves to the Big City for University, but he’s not like other boys. He doesn’t nt know how to interact with others. He’s socially awkward, and is often considered as “weird” or “strange”. He also cant touch people without feeling sick, but why? Parker is a sex addict. He’s wild, outgoing and loves to party. He’s known to be a playboy who changes women quicker than his socks. Not a day goes by when he’s not in bed with someone else. But what happens when he meets a boy who can’t be touched
MLM, autistic main character, extremely angsty, you’ll feel like an emty shell after reading, be warned (😭)
In Between Days: Raising Jordan by tristan2500
Jordan lives in his own world, or so that’s what it seems to the average person. No one, not even his brother, has ever given him a chance. That is until Tim’s best friend comes along
MLM, autistic main character, beautiful writing, Call Me By Your Name vibes
SEVENS by -crucible-
Alexei is drowning and he’s having a hard time staying afloat by himself. With a disappearing mother, unsympathetic social workers and hungry police not far off his trail, he is running out of ways to keep going. He’s desperate to find a foothold that will propel him into a secure future
MLM, angst with happy ending
Finally, my favorite author on Wattpad, I waited for last to introduce all their books (that I’ve read) into one
The Treehouse
The Lost Angel
Art For Art’s Sake
Oakleaf Academy For Boys
The Dutch Boy
By Pixie022
Go to their page for summaries
Honorable mentions: Knight by hipstateasee, All Is Found by findinglove9499, The Sound of Ice by MAndALaptop, Y.O.L.O by letsgohomehidee, Nathaniel Jean’s Senior Year by stayonbrand, Getting Wilder by booklored
And my current read that I love so far:
The Stars That Night by SkeneKidz
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There’s an overwhelming amount of MLM, and not enough WLM on this list, but thats because I’ve lost track of alot of the sapphic books on Wattpad that I read in the beginning before knowing that you can make reading lists (lmao im stupid ok) im definitely gonna update with more WLW stuff when i find it
Please trust my taste, I have high standards when it comes to Wattpad
#please make sure to read the tags and trigger warnings on the stories#wattpad#mlm#wlw#gxg#bxb#queer book recommendation#book reccs
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Cardinal
Pairing: Logan Howlett ("Worst" Wolverine) x f!reader
Rating: Explicit (for themes and smut).
Word count: 16.6k
Summary: At the edge of the world, someone from another keeps you from stepping off.
Tags/Warnings (Please, read the warnings!!): Post-Deadpool & Wolverine, female reader (female anatomy etc + 2 mentions of hair long enough to fall into your eyes), strangers-to-lovers, depression, suicidal ideations, suicide attempt and mentions thereof, addiction, drinking alcohol, drugs (mentioned not used), panic attacks, sobriety meetings, anxiety, recovery, co-dependency vibes, sprinkles of soulmateism, explicit smut (oral and unprotected PIV), happy ending (yay!!). If I forgot anything, please let me know!
Notes: Deadpool and Wolverine re-triggered my X-Men obsession and what started as a means to write some smut actually became this idea about two broken people who shouldn't even have met in the first place finding each other. There's a lot of me in this story, more than there's ever been I think. I'm sorry for this glimpse into my head, and I'm sorry if this isn't as Reader-insert as it should be, but... I'm not that sorry, you know. Huge thanks to @javier-pena , for not only reading this over and fixing so many embarrassing mistakes, but also for saying she'd read this even if it was 20k words and always believing in my abilities as a writer, even when I sometimes didn't.
If you want to read the smut as a standalone, you can! Just CTRL + F (or search in page) for 'Logan reaches for' and read away.
THE LOOKOUT
With closed eyes, you inhale the cool, December air, before looking down at your feet. Here, at the edge of the lookout, the grass has been trampled. You imagine friends taking bets on who dares get closest to the edge, lovers making memories, families taking pictures. It’s strangely soothing that maybe you’re not the first to stand here to do this.
Far below your feet, the water laps at the rocks. The force of it depends on the weather and tonight it’s violent, with big splashes and crashing sounds. The wind tugs at your coat, pulling you towards the water as if to help you along, making you look up again as you hold your balance. In front of you, the line of the horizon is dark but visible – it would have been impossible to make out if the moon hadn’t been as bright as it is.
It’s like you’re looking at the edge of the world.
During the weeks that fall had made way for winter, you scoped the place out a couple times. The first time you stood at this cliff’s edge, the place it took you to mentally scared you so much that you got back into your car and broke down in tears. The next couple times, things became more and more serious, as your life crumbled around you, and your feelings numbed, and nothing seemed to matter anymore.
Something had crept in while you weren’t looking, settling somewhere behind your eyes and spreading out to make a home behind your ribs, slowly but surely changing you. And once you realized it, it was already too late. It had grown large, became jilted and jealous, like it wanted all of you. It pushed away everyone and everything you held dear, until it was just you and that… something.
Especially during the quiet of the night, the lookout became soothing, a strange sense of familiarity enveloping you each time you were here. It was addictive and pretty soon, it became a daily routine to visit. But lately it’s been losing its shine, your feelings here dulling and darkening too. You’re exhausted, fed up, tired of giving it more of you.
Today you want it to be your last time here.
You’ve had countless hours to contemplate what it would be like, imagined – all but romanticised – how the cold water would paralyse your limbs if the impact wouldn't do the trick. You read somewhere that it’s apparently like falling asleep when the water finally fills your lungs. You’ll be gone, but the thing will be too.
The thought makes your eyes fill with tears, but not from fear. All you feel is relief, like it’s right, how it’s supposed to be. It makes you smile despite everything, and–
“Hey, stop!”
A voice behind you thunders through the silence and makes you shriek into the night, dirt toppling over the edge of the lookout below the shuffle of your foot. A string of curses follows, heavy footfalls behind you indicating that the intruder is approaching you.
“Fuck off!” you throw over your shoulder, your voice a roar with how it’s amplified by the wind.
After, your throat closes up, fighting the angry tears over the fact that you can’t even fucking kill yourself in peace. Never have you seen anyone here at night, never. What you hate even more is how it breaks your momentum. The haze that was surrounding you is pierced, and your body’s baser instincts kick in. Adrenaline suddenly pumps through your veins, making your legs tremble, your heart hammer, your body scream for you to step back from where you’re standing. Your anger, however, has you nailed to the floor.
You almost miss the much softer, “Hey,” as a man steps into your peripheral vision. You pretend like you don’t hear him, or see him – you simply pretend he isn’t there, focussing on getting back into your previous mindset.
But then he takes his hands out of his pockets.
“Don’t fucking touch me,” you warn, hating how your voice comes out trembling – weak.
“Easy.” He holds his hands up in surrender. “Wasn’t planning on it.”
You stand there together for what feels like hours. You will yourself to not let it affect you, setting your jaw to keep your teeth from clattering on account of the cold, allow the wind to blow your hair into your eyes without brushing it away. Even when it begins to rain, you don’t move, don’t blink even once more than you need to. From the corner of your eye you watch the man shove his hands back in the pockets of the brown leather jacket he’s wearing, and you quietly celebrate that your surroundings are fazing him more than they are you.
“You know–” he begins.
“I’m not really looking for a conversation.”
“Me neither,” he immediately counters, suddenly impatient, “so I’ll get right to it: You planning on jumping? Because if you think the water’s gonna be nice to you, you’ve got that wrong. You’ll end up in there feeling everything, that fall isn’t gonna do shit.”
Having expected a gentle approach, his bluntness and his tone knock the wind out of you. You cock your jaw, the shame creeping up your body the first bit of warmth you’ve felt in a while. Your cold fingers ball to fists as you will yourself not to care. Yes, his words and the way he's shatteríng your expectations with them sting, but you don’t even know this guy–
“And there’s nothing fuckin’ peaceful about it, it’s just panic. Right before you go too far…” He raises a fist and holds it against the center of his chest, “...there’s this burning right here that’s hell.”
“And what makes you such an expert?” you finally spit out.
“Died like that a couple times,” he says without waiting a beat.
The casual statement of something so bizarre beats your resolve before you know it, your head turning in his direction. “‘A couple times’?”
“I, uh…” You watch him hesitate, the moonlight illuminating the tick of his jaw, the bob of his throat as he swallows, the way his chest falls as he sighs, “Let’s just say I can’t die.”
Before you can stop yourself, you snort at that. “That must fucking suck.”
He barks out a laugh, “Got that right.” It startles you when his head suddenly turns to you, when he looks you in the eye for the first time. “But trust me, being down there isn’t much better.”
There’s something in the way he looks at you that makes you waver. You can’t really place it, or decipher why it makes you want to open up to him. Maybe it’s because you’re freezing and it’s your body betraying you, tricking you into moving so you can generate some warmth, moving your lips to keep them from going blue. Or maybe it’s simply because he’s a stranger and it’s so much easier to be honest when there are no consequences.
“Things just feel so…,” you begin, voice shaky. Every possible way to end the sentence crosses your mind, seemingly all wrong, before you settle on what’s closest to how you feel, “endless.”
To your relief, he doesn’t say anything. Doesn’t tell you to give it time that it will get better, or any of the other bullshit you’ve heard from all the other people that had been in your life and left a long time ago. You do find something else in the shift in his eyes, something you haven’t encountered before.
Understanding.
It might be worse. If anything, it’s overwhelming, making your eyes dart away from his as you sniff.
The wind still tugs at you, the waves still hit the rocks, but your moment seems to have passed. It’s a sobering conclusion, a twisted version of wrong place, wrong time. Or maybe it was him who was at the wrong place at the wrong time. Either way, the outcome is the same.
You take a step back, and another, but it takes considerable effort; you hadn’t taken your numb legs into consideration. You stumble, falling back on the dewy, cold grass, not quick enough to catch yourself on your hands. With a groan, you move to sit upright.
“Shit. Hey, you still with me?” The stranger kneels next to you, fingers lifting your chin to look into your eyes. “Jesus, you’re fucking freezing.”
“No s-sh-hit,” you retort.
He sighs, offering you a hand so he can pull you up. “C’mon, let's get you warmed up.”
– – – – –
Logan.
That’s his name.
It’s how he introduced himself, anyway, after he suggested you follow him. To his credit, he did offer to drive you, but you didn’t want to leave your car in the parking lot of the lookout. Logan waited 15 minutes for you while you put the blowers on the highest, warmest setting and waited for the feeling to return to your limbs. After, his brown truck led the way here – here being some hole in the wall, 24 hour diner. You could have not followed, but the drive was kind of mesmerizing; the night seemed darker than usual, and Logan’s tail lights served as a lighthouse.
Outside, the diner is all Christmas lights and flashing signs, but the interior is like something straight out of Twin Peaks; booths to the left, red barstools to the right, a girl that looks too pretty and too young to be here standing behind the counter. There were two other patrons you spotted along the way as Logan led you to one of the back booths. Once seated, Logan studied the pamphlets–or pretended to, more like, because as soon as the waitress came up he ordered two whiskeys and nothing else.
Between then and now, as you nursed your drink sip by careful sip, you hadn’t learned much more about him other than that he could knock back a glass of whiskey like he got paid to do so. And in truth, you like it this way; preferring silent company, the droning of the machinery behind the counter and the quiet hum of a song on the jukebox next to the entrance. The white noise helps to distract from the white noise in your head. Settling back into the leather cushions of the booth, you let some warmth seep back into your body. Opposite you, Logan does the same.
Some moments after you finish your drink, one of the waitresses walks up to your booth to ask you about a refill, like she’s asked Logan twice now. You’re handing her the glass when Logan says, “She’s had enough.”
Your head whips from her to him. “Excuse me?”
He doesn’t say anything, and from the corner of your eye, you see the girl leave. With your glass. Logan’s is on his lips, his eyes observing you over the rim, looking at you like he– Dammit. You sigh deeply, a sense of anger filling you. You don’t need this, least of all from him. When you stand from the booth, those eyes follow you, making you voice your observations,
“Quit pitying me, Logan.”
“I’m not,” he says before taking another sip. “You still have to drive.”
You quirk an eyebrow at him. “And you don’t?”
Logan shrugs. “It’s different for me.”
Anger is still prevalent in your voice when you ask, “Well, let me guess, it’s another case of ‘I died like that a couple times’?”
He hums.
“And how does that work?”
“Regenerative ability,” he sighs. Another sip before he elaborates, “X-Gene.”
The admission makes you plop back down in your seat. Well, that explains things – he’s a mutant. You’re not familiar with that world, but you know enough to know it meant that. It isn’t like you couldn’t have deduced it before, but truthfully, you kind of thought he was bullshiting you as part of some tactic. Now, his actions and words make more sense: He really knows what it’s like to... That’s why he had that look on his face. Suddenly, you see him in a different light–
“Now who’s pitying who, hmm?” Logan asks, giving you a thin-lipped smile that doesn't reach his eyes as he sets his glass down on the table.
“I’m not, I’m just… processing. So this...” you lift his glass, swirl the contents around, “...doesn’t even affect you?”
“It does. For a few seconds.” He plucks the glass back from your hand, and throws the whiskey back with one gulp. His pupils dilate, pushing the hazel of his irises out until his eyes are almost black for a second, two… before going back to normal. “But if I chugged the bottle, I’d pass out.”
“Well, so would I,” you say with a chuckle. “So maybe we’re not that different after all.”
Just as the corner of his mouth lifts, your smile falls, because… it isn’t true; you’re very different. You’re pretty sure you don’t have what it takes to do what he did tonight. To care enough to do it. To sit with a stranger and hear them bitch and moan about being denied a drink. A feeling creeps up on you, sticky and uncomfortable, like you’ve overstayed your welcome—burdened him.
“I should head home,” you say, standing again.
Lightning fast, Logan’s hand shoots out to close around your wrist. “That really where you’re going?”
“Yes,” you reply. When you pull your hand back, he doesn’t let up. You fish your car key out of your pocket with your free hand, voice tighter when you say, “Let me go.”
“Just promise me something,” he says, eyes as dark as they’d been earlier, yet his drink has gone untouched since. “Don’t go back there again.”
“Not making promises I can’t keep,” you say, giving him a wry smile. “To strangers, but least of all to myself.”
He sighs, and lets you pull yourself from his hold.
THE CRAVING
New Years comes and goes, and you quickly discover that it was foolish superstition to think that it might change how you feel.
You find yourself in some club, a drink in each hand. You hate to admit it, but Logan’s words scared you out of your original idea and the only time you can bear to think of how to move on from it is when alcohol soothes the embarrassing grief of your shattered, macabre fantasy. It’s not a good way to deal with things, but it works.
There’s a part of you that welcomes feeling anything at all, but that… something inside you is busy trying to squash it.
It’s getting somewhere, because you have no idea how much you’ve already had to drink, but you’re buzzing pleasantly. Adding to it, you knock both drinks back, slamming the glasses on the bar before spinning around and facing the crowd of dancing bodies. The music sucks, the dance floor is cramped, you’re tired… The truth is that you’re too old for this, but it’s easy to escape here, surrounded by strangers. You clumsily drag the back of your hand over your wet mouth, push your sweaty hair from your eyes, and join them.
The past couple weeks, you found yourself craving something. Contact. And here is where you can get your fill; a hand on your waist, lips on your ear, the music too loud and yourself too drunk to even comprehend what’s being said, but never more. You want them to get close, but never too close.
After some time – could be an hour, could be 10 minutes – you make your way to the bathroom. It’s quieter here, the dulled thump of the music making the time you spend there feel slow and syrupy.
When you exit the stall, you bump into someone.
It’s a man. The dark hood over his head obscures his eyes, but you can’t help but think he’s looking right at you when a bright, almost unnatural grin appears on his face. It draws you in like a magnet, more so when he says, “Need something to take the edge off?”
Curiously, you watch as he opens his palm, long fingers unfurling slowly until they reveal a small plastic bag in his hand.
“First time’s on the house.”
You have no idea what it is exactly, but your eyes widen. This is new territory for you, and all the possibilities it opens up are suddenly invading your mind. As if on auto-pilot, you reach for the place where you keep your money, the sound of the door opening completely lost on you.
A hand closes around your bicep, pulling you aside with a quick yank of an arm.
“She isn’t interested, pal.”
It’s another man, who effortlessly tucks you half behind him. Before you can protest beyond an indignant huff, there’s a sound, like a sword being unsheathed, and you catch a flash of red, and of knives. Frowning, you try to get a better look, but your view is obscured by the man’s shoulder. The hooded man seems undeterred, regarding the weapons with the same sickening grin, before leaving the bathroom, muttering something that you don’t understand on the way out. The sword sound returns, the man twists around, and–
“Logan?” you slur in disbelief.
Logan doesn’t reply, instead takes hold of your arm again, making you follow him out of the bathroom. There he stops the two of you to murmur something to a woman wearing the same clothes as him, before tugging you along again. You’re stumbling after him on account of his pace and the iron grip he has on you as he leads you to the back door. He pushes it open with enough force to make the hinges creak, a gust of wind blowing in your face. It’s a contrast to go from the crowded, sweaty club to the silent, cold back-alley where tall brick walls and employee cars cage you in. You shake your arm and Logan’s grip loosens – another and he lets you go.
“How did you even find–” You cut yourself off, eyes widening, “Oh, my god, are you following me?”
Logan scoffs, narrowing his eyes. “Oh, please, do you think I have time to follow you around all day?”
“You’re here, aren’t you? You and your fucking…,” you gesture wildly into the air at him, “savior complex.”
“I work here,” he growls. When you give him a look, he adds, “It’s temporary. ‘Sides, me and my savior complex are the reason that creep isn’t selling god knows what to you in that bathroom right now!” His voice is a roar, echoing off the walls around you.
“Maybe I wanted that creep to sell god knows what to me in that bathroom,” you say, doing a poor impression of his voice, before turning and walking away from him.
Logan sighs. “Where are you going?”
“I’m leaving.”
“And then what, huh?”
“I don’t fucking know, Logan,” you say, twisting around to face him again, arms spread out by your side. “Figure out a new way out of this.”
“Yeah? Third time’s the charm?”
“Why do you even care, huh? You don’t even know me,” you say. Almost immediately, you let out a bitter laugh as your own words hit your ears, a sad realization dawning on you. “But I guess that makes two of us.”
It’s not like you expected him to, but he doesn’t answer.
“You know I used to like myself? I used to smile, I used to have friends, I used to be more sober than drunk. But this feeling, it takes… everything.” You raise a fist, hold it to the center of your chest. “It takes everything I love, pushes away everyone I love, including myself. It eats me up, and wants more and more, until I’m something I’m not and until I’m so far away from that version of myself, my old self, that it feels easier to just fucking–” you pause with a wet gasp for air.
“Destroy yourself,” Logan finishes for you.
Your chest heaves, an unshed tear clings to your lash line. “Exactly.”
He takes a step closer to you. “Let me take you home,” he says, voice gentle.
You should hate the implications of that gentleness, but you don’t. In your drunk state of mind, it’s easier to admit it’s nice that someone understands, that someone’s there to stop you from going too far…
Tomorrow, when some of your pragmatism returns, you’ll deny this embarrassing thought ever occurred; if relying on other people worked, it would have worked a long time ago, and you wouldn’t be standing here with him. If you’re lucky, you might even forget this entirely, and wake up with a hangover that you’ll enjoy a little too much because it feels like a punishment–
“What about your job?” you ask with a sniff.
Logan’s palm finds the space between your shoulder blades with a gentle push, the warmth of it seeping in through your clothes, and he leads you to his truck. “They’ll manage without me.”
– – – – –
When you wake, your world is tilted sideways, a blanket is pulled up to your chin and there's a pillow under your head. They’re not your own; the blanket is itchy and the pillow’s too small. When you try to move your legs, they stick uncomfortably to the material below them, and you realize you’re on a leather couch. You squint at the light that comes in from a window across from you–
“Mornin’, sunshine.”
The voice startles you, eyes shifting to focus on the source: A man lying on his front on the floor, chin in his hands as he kicks his feet back and forth in the air.
“Wish I could say it’s a pleasure, but it hasn’t been very pleasurable. You’ve been barfing up the place since the moment you stepped inside. Kept poor Al up all night. Her ears are sensitive,” he adds with a whisper. “But don’t worry, she left about an hour ago.”
“Who are you?” you slur, blinking against the light.
“Logan.” He sighs when you frown. “I know, not how you remember. This is what I look like during the day; blessed with incredible good looks at night and, well,” he gestures at his face that’s covered in scars, "this, during the day. Bit of a reverse Princess Fiona situation–”
“Cut it out, Wade,” comes the sharp protest from next to you. With considerable effort, you turn your head and see the actual Logan, slumped back in a recliner next to the couch, rubbing some sleep out of his eyes while motioning for the other man to go.
“I’ll let you two talk.” Wade winks.
Logan stands when Wade does, walking from your field of view. Your head is scrambling to catch up, trying to piece together what happened last night, but only coming up with bits and pieces.
“How are you feeling?” Logan asks as he makes his way back to you, handing you a glass of water.
You flinch when the front door closes behind Wade with a bang, before taking the glass from Logan and taking a few thankful sips. “Like shit.”
“Yeah,” is all he says as he sits back down.
“What–”
“You fell asleep in the car. Didn’t know where to take you, figured the couch was the safest place.”
“Oh…,” you say, voice small.
You try not to think about being so wasted that you had to be carried out of Logan’s car, or about what Wade said earlier about the things that happened as soon as you stepped inside the apartment. During your silence, Logan’s fingers fiddle with the armrest, before his hand balls into a fist, and it unlocks something in your hazy memory.
“I have the weirdest memory of you having… a sword?”
You watch as Logan’s lips purse in amusement. His tongue rolls around in his mouth, seemingly contemplating something, before saying, “You probably saw these.” He holds up his fist, flexing his forearm before three blades shoot from between his knuckles like claws, accompanied by a shing!
“Jesus fucking Christ,” you startle, spilling some water on your blanket. Your head spins with your hangover and the bizarity of the situation. If it didn’t sound so much like how it did in your memory, you might think you were still drunk.
There’s so many things you want to ask, your intrigue almost winning out over your hangover until the sharp start of a headache gives you pause. Instead, you take another sip of water before rubbing your temple.
“It’s a story for another time,” Logan says, like he can read your mind, and you want to ask him that, too. His claws retreat, the cuts they leave between his knuckles immediately smoothing over until they’re gone. “I gotta go check if I still have a job.”
The words make you feel warm all over, the memory of your back-alley conversation coming back in full force. The thought of the things you admitted to him and that you put him in the position that he had to risk his job for you make you feel even warmer, your gaze no doubt laced with embarrassment and worry when you look at him.
“‘S not your fault,” Logan assures, standing and fishing his car key from the pocket of his jeans. “You don’t have to rush but um, make sure you close the door behind you on the way out. Gets jammed sometimes.”
“Yeah, okay,” you say, watching as he makes his way to the front door.
He takes a final glance at you over his shoulder, then leaves, accompanied by a bang.
THE PUZZLE
It takes you a little over a week to muster up the courage to go back. Admittedly, your courage is aided by another, foreign feeling. You don’t have a name for it yet, or maybe you’re afraid to call it what it is, but somewhere along the week, you became consumed with the thought that feeling like you did wasn’t all there was. That there is something beyond this.
Perhaps foreign wasn’t the right way to describe it, because it is something you’ve felt before – it’s just been long dormant. The last time, it lasted about a month before it all came crashing down, and you swore you wouldn’t fall for it again, but you can’t help it. The feeling’s too sweet, and the idea that there’s still some baser instinct willing you to keep fighting for yourself makes you feel like the sun is shining on you.
So yeah, maybe you’re just having one of your good weeks, where the thing sleeps – quiet while its presence still simmers. But you figured now’s your chance to take advantage of its unguarded moment.
Sneaking into the building is surprisingly easy. It helps that it isn’t anything fancy. You wanted to forego the humiliation of ringing the bell and him not letting you in, but standing in front of the door now, panting after climbing three flights of stairs, you don’t know if this is much better.
Just when you’re about to knock, the door swings open. In the opening, Logan has one arm in his jacket, head twisted to watch the other that’s caught halfway in the sleeve. It takes him almost bumping into you to realize your presence. “Shit, sorry.” He steadies himself with a hand on your arm, the touch leaving you as fast as it appeared.
“Hi,” you breathe, taking a step back to give him a little more space.
He nods in greeting. “Brings you here?”
It takes you a moment, caught off guard by him skipping over pleasantries and cutting right to the chase, despite your best intentions; it’s not that he’s ever been any different in his interactions with you.
“I came by because I, um, owe you an apology, for my behavior at your workplace and for, you know…,” you trail off, gesturing at the door.
“Barfing up the place!” comes a shout from inside the apartment.
Logan’s eyes close with a sigh, before he steps into the hallway with you and closes the door with a bang.
“That,” you finish sheepishly. “I’m really sorry.”
He nods in acknowledgement.
“I also wanted to ask, um, if you want to come with me to get a coffee. To make it up to you.”
Logan just looks at you, the leather of his jacket creaking as he crosses his thick arms in front of his chest. He raises an eyebrow at you expectantly. You hate how he somehow can see right through you, how he makes you elaborate, and honest.
“I want to quit drinking,” you say, fiddling with the sleeve of your coat. “It doesn’t make me better, and when I don’t do it I finally feel a little… normal. Maybe coffee’s technically just as bad, but it’s the only thing that’s currently acting like… like a reverse gateway drink? And I feel like you’re the only person I know that might get that feeling of–”
“I do,” Logan cuts in, voice softer than before – assuring. His arms drop from where they’re crossed and he starts making his way to the stairs. “Let’s go.”
– – – – –
You don’t know this coffee place, and from the way he looks around and shifts around in a chair that might be a bit too small for him, neither does Logan. Main reason you picked it is because the booths remind you a little too much of a bar – and you like the tall windows. The coffee’s pretty decent.
“Did they fire you?” you ask, picking at a loose corner of one of the laminated menus before setting it back in its holder.
“Boss commended me for helping a customer, but not so much for leaving before my shift ended,” Logan replies. “Got off with a warning.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Said that already, and I accepted,” he says. When he takes a sip of the coffee, he winces. “No need to worry about it anymore, okay? I would do it again.”
You nod, folding your hands around the warm cup in front of you.
“But, um, Wade hasn’t shut up about… the incident.” There’s a different tone to his voice, like he’s trying to lighten the mood. “His words.”
“You know, I kind of get the feeling that Wade doesn’t shut up about a lot of things.” It comes out a little meaner than you intend, but it makes Logan laugh and finally slump back in his chair a little.
“You’re a quick study.”
Offering him a short smile in return, you continue with the other real reason you came to see him, before you chicken out. “I also stopped by because I wanted to, uh… because I realized I never really… I never… I never thanked you, for um… And–”
With a shake of his head, Logan sits upright. “Y’don’t–”
To your horror, your eyes brim with tears, “Logan, I’m supposed to be dead–”
“So am I,” he counters. He lets the words hang between the two of you for a moment, until you look at him, before he continues, “I’ve been where you are. Past it, even.”
You don’t know what to say to that, if the lump in your throat will even permit you to speak, but it’s impossible to look away from him. Logan’s gaze is piercing, frown ever present, but it’s not from anger. Instead, it’s like he’s searching for something, the right thing, to say. The silence doesn’t bother you; if anything, it makes his words seem more genuine when he does speak,
“I had someone who was annoying enough to not give up on me when I could really use it. If getting a coffee with you that’s, frankly…,” he makes a face as he pauses, “a horrible excuse for a coffee, helps… I can do that. I want to do that.”
The corner of your mouth lifts as you blink away your tears. “Was it Wade?”
Logan lets out a chuckle, and it’s honest – fond. “Yeah.”
“Figured,” you say. “How did you meet him?”
Across from you, Logan stills. You swallow thickly, adjusting yourself in your chair. It’s an innocent question, but maybe it isn’t something he’d like to revisit right now. Logan’s mug squeaks when he grips it tighter, and he looks at you with something like defeat–
It makes you deflate. This must be what you looked like the night you met…
There’s no way to have prepared for what he tells you next: That he came from another timeline about three months ago, that he and Wade saved this one from being destroyed and almost got killed in the process, that he has nothing to go back to after the death of his team, so he stayed here.
There’s hesitation in it, like he isn’t telling you the whole story, though you don’t comment on it. He doesn’t owe you anything and you’re too busy putting all the pieces in the Logan-shaped puzzle in your mind together; his words and actions towards you are starting to make more and more sense.
“It’s a very brave thing the two of you did,” you say when he’s finished.
“Hmm, it was all Wade,” Logan muses. “He did it all for the people he cares about.”
“I’m sure you would have done the same if you were in his place.”
At that, he lets out a dry laugh with absolutely no joy behind it. “Do me a favor, don’t put me on a pedestal.”
You frown, but before you can comment, he stands. A knot forms in your stomach, worried you’ve offended him, but he clears up the uncertainty immediately.
“I gotta go but um, Wade’s friends–,” he stops himself, correcting, “our friends are coming over to watch a movie, next week, 7:30. I have no idea what crap they’re going to be watching but… it’s nice. It’ll be nice to be around good people.” Logan doesn’t wait for your answer, simply takes his wallet from his pocket and leaves enough money to cover the bill.
“Wait, no, I invited you,” you protest. “I should–”
“You can pay next time.”
When you nod, he says his goodbyes with a jerk of his head and makes his way to the door.
– – – – –
You see Logan two more times for coffee that week. He never lets you pay.
THE PANTRY
“–but it’s the best one!” Wade protests, DVD in hand.
“They fly a car into space, Wade,” Laura sighs.
“Launched off a jet,” he corrects. Like it helps.
You cover your mouth with the back of your hand, hiding the smile that appears at everyone’s babbling. Unbeknownst to you, you had found yourself invited to a double feature night, with Wade as the self proclaimed DVDJ. The credits had barely started rolling on A Good Day To Die Hard, or Wade had another DVD at the ready. It was met with the same amount of enthusiasm as when he presented the first.
It hadn’t been easy to make yourself go to this tonight. On your way, you’d thought of turning around at almost every step. Of course, that was all before you knew it would be this fun, and that you’d be relieved you hadn’t canceled last minute. Even meeting everyone hadn’t been as bad as you feared.
There’s Peter, Wade’s friend. Ellie, another one of Wade’s friends. Yukio, Ellie’s girlfriend. Laura, Logan’s daughter. Mary Puppins, Wade’s small, disgusting but adorable dog, who had greeted you with equal amounts saliva and enthusiasm, before falling asleep next to the TV, completely unbothered by the commotion. Unlike Althea, Logan and Wade’s blind roommate, who had taken one listen to the gaggle of voices and left. The elusive Vanessa, Wade’s ex-but-we-might-get-back-together you heard about a couple times, wasn’t there.
Logan had been right, it was nice to be surrounded by good people. Especially good people who were… unconventional. It made joining them less complicated, less performative, and as the evening progressed it made you a participant instead of a silent observer. Wade even called you, “good for the group dynamic,” and it made you beam with pride.
“Don’t they have like, rockets attached to the car?” Ellie questions, to which Yukio’s eyebrows knit together.
“Exactly!” Wade exclaims, mistaking her confusion for enthusiasm. “Citizen Kane wishes.”
There’s more grumbling from everyone when Wade pops the DVD into the player, and he grumbles something back about how Logan would back him up if he wasn’t in the bathroom because he, quote unquote, goes way back with some of these dudes.
You’re pretty sure he’s the only one who knows what he’s even talking about.
An empty bowl of popcorn rests in your lap, and as you put it on the table, you notice how sticky and greasy your fingers and palms are. When the opening credits begin to roll, you get up to wash your hands, assuring Wade he doesn’t need to pause the movie before you go.
The apartment’s small, so it isn’t far to the kitchen, but it’s nice to stretch your legs. You can still hear the sounds from movie night; tell-tale action movie music, comments of disbelief and Wade shutting them down. They’re more faint, though, more so when you turn the tap on and wash your hands.
Right as you’re finished, you hear a dull thud. You turn the water off, head tilted and at attention while you dry your hands. There’s another sound, like a muffled groan. It’s coming from the pantry, you realize, noting that the door is slightly ajar. There’s a shing! sound followed by a distressed grunt, and before you know it you’re walking over, wrapping your fingers around the door to pull it open–
You’re not sure what it was you were expecting, but it wasn’t this. Logan’s sitting on the floor, uncharacteristically small, curled up against one of the walls. His chest is heaving, shoulders all but going up to his ears with how he’s trying to draw in breaths. Next to him, his fist is balled against the hardwood, claws buried in the floor.
Fuck.
Dropping to your knees, you wedge yourself between his. “It’s okay, you’re having a panic attack,” you explain, your hands landing on his shoulders with a light shake. “You need to breathe. I’ll help you, just look at me.”
Logan’s head stays tipped down, a deep, rattling breath sailing from his mouth as he curls further in on himself.
“Hey!” you say sharply, cupping his jaw with two hands and tilting his face up, “Look at me.”
Logan’s eyes are wet when they meet yours, moving frantically as they search your face, tears spilling over when he blinks. Something changes in his gaze, like he finally sees it’s you, and his bottom lip begins to tremble. His hand lifts from where it’s buried in the floor, clutching onto your wrist like a lifeline.
“Breathe,” you instruct, trying not to flinch at the sharp claws in front of you. He doesn’t catch on immediately, so you overdo the purse of your lips when you blow out a breath before exaggerating an inhale through your nose, showing him what to do. It starts off shaky, a fresh set of tears falling from Logan’s eyes as he does as you instruct, but after a couple of times you find a rhythm together. The silver between his knuckles slowly disappears. “There you go, good job. Keep going.”
You sit like that, until the wild shift of his eyes stops, his pulse steadies beneath your fingertips, and eventually his eyes close with a deep exhale. His grip on you loosens and you take it as your cue to let go of him, slumping back against the wall opposite him with a sigh of relief. The both of you catch your breath, sitting together in silence until Logan breaks it.
“Came outta nowhere… suddenly I was back there… letting them down.”
“It caught you off guard, it happens–”
“I let them get killed,” he says, voice raw. “They were like– They were my family, they trusted me to be there for them and I… I was too caught up in my own bullshit. I should have been with them, I should be dead with them.”
Logan’s tears still come, but the words almost sound reverent; as if saying them out loud just to punish himself with his own shortcomings is a balm. He’s talking about his team from there, you realize, and something clicks. All this time, you thought this was about him being unable to die due to his mutation, but it’s more than that. It’s shame, remorse, grief, survivor’s guilt, all wrapped into one.
It’s the final piece of your mind puzzle that makes his picture appear.
“How– How can I ever atone for that?” he asks. “How can I ever–”
“Logan, you can't change your past,” you interrupt carefully. “You made your choices and they made theirs, and you honored them by– by…stepping up to the task, by doing what you did with Wade.”
“What if it wasn’t enough?”
“What if it was?” you counter. Your hand finds his knee with a squeeze, before adding, “You did what they would have done. And now you… you need to allow yourself to honor their memory without feeling like you have to destroy yourself to do it. You deserve that.”
Logan blinks at you, eyes still glossy. He looks devastated yet calmer than before, like the emotion is still there, but displaced. For a good while, you sit with him like that while his sniffles lessen and his breathing returns to normal… until there’s a loud explosion coming from the living room. It’s followed by cheers and hollers, and you’re both suddenly reminded of where you are.
“C’mon,” you say, patting Logan’s knee before using it as leverage to haul yourself up with a groan. You give him room by holding the door open for him. “Better get back before we miss the good stuff.”
Still on the floor, Logan exhales heavily. “Think this was the good stuff.”
– – – – –
Three weeks later, on your way to your third movie night, you catch Wade and Vanessa making out in the building hallway.
It stops you dead in your tracks and makes for an awkward meeting with Wade’s mystery woman, who is beautiful but very direct when she asks you what the fuck you’re staring at. Wade certainly has a type when it comes to the company he keeps… He quickly shushes the situation, introducing the two of you, and it immediately makes Vanessa’s expression twist into recognition.
“Nice to meet you,” she says, followed by an apologetic smile.
You respond in kind.
When Wade tugs at her jacket impatiently, they brush past you and make their way to the exit. “See you around!” she throws over her shoulder.
A grin forms on your lips, realizing what you just witnessed, and you race up the stairs. With Wade gone, you’re not sure if there will be a movie, but at least you have gossip to share with your friends.
THE MEETING
April flies by, rolls into May, and thing’s are… okay.
With some help, you find a therapist. It’s good, she’s good, but it’s difficult to be confronted with things that are painful, week after week, and to keep reminding yourself it’s all part of the process you’re going through.
Last week, after a particularly difficult session, you’d left her office being auto-piloted by dark feelings, like they knew exactly when to strike. You had turned corners and crossed streets, wandering as you stewed on everything you’d discussed – like your mind was playing a constant loop of your most painful moments. It was a small miracle you had heard your phone, and that you had the presence of mind to thumb the green button.
You’d answered without saying a word.
“Got any plans?” Logan had asked on the other side of the line.
“No,” you’d replied, coming back to yourself a little bit at the sound of his voice.
“Al’s making her meatballs – she and Wade can’t agree on if they’re famous or infamous. Thought you might like to come. If it tastes like shit, we’ll order in.”
You’d hummed, managing to ask, “What time?”
It had stayed quiet on the other end, and that’s how you’d known he was onto you, could picture the pinch of his brows, his lips forming a thin line. For the first time, you welcomed it—wanted so badly to reach through the phone, shake his shoulders, ask for his help and accept it, like he had done with you weeks ago.
“Sounds to me like now might be good.”
“Yeah,” you had agreed, the constricting tightness in your chest easing up. “Yeah, I’ll be there soon.” You’d released a shuddering breath, ear still pressed to the phone as you took in your surroundings before you auto-piloted yourself to a different destination.
“Logan?”
“Still here.”
“Thank you for calling.”
“‘course. Get here soon, I’ll stay on the phone.”
The afternoon had ended with Logan and yourself allowing Althea to boss you around in the small apartment’s kitchen, rolling meatballs, sharing stories — Althea’s recollection of something that happened to her in her 20s that involved her stealing a police horse while wearing nothing but a thong, made you cry from laughing.
The meatballs were the best you ever had, though you couldn’t be sure if they actually were, or if it was just the taste of the moment that was better than anything had been that day.
Sometime after dinner, Logan had nudged your shoulder to show you a little plastic chip. He flashed it at you long enough that you could read the words one month, before he pocketed it again. Then he suggested you come with him next week.
“I thought it was bullshit too, but it helps,” he’d explained. “Figured I couldn’t continue to drink whatever that stuff is you call coffee to… avoid my problems.”
You contemplated his suggestion. Things were going well for you in that regard, but your therapist had also recommended you go to one of these things, even if it was just for the community aspect of it. It just made it so… official. Your problems, but most of all, your recovery. You weren’t good at keeping promises to yourself, and this felt like a big commitment. Not to mention the speeches and other people’s problems...
But as Logan told you more about it, the location, how it had been for him, you sensed something else between the lines: He wasn’t just asking for you, he was also asking for himself. Maybe… this was his way of telling you he needed some support.
That’s how you find yourself inside a high school gymnasium a week later. It’s as gloomy as you expected. Slick floors, gray fold-out chairs set in neat rows, buzzing lights in a high ceiling, and a slightly raised podium with a whiteboard that reads a welcome message in capital letters.
Unsure of what to do, you follow Logan as he weaves through the crowd to find a seat. As you do, it strikes you that there’s a pretty even distribution of people, with many genders, ages and lifestyles represented. Eventually you take a seat; not quite in the back, but definitely not in the front.
The whole thing goes by in a blur, but where you expected to be overwhelmed, you feel… connected. Here you are, surrounded by people with different backgrounds, different lives, but all their stories have something you can relate to. Where you thought addiction was the common denominator, it’s actually the desire to turn your lives around that unites you the most.
“Before we end the night I want to circle back to last week, when we spoke about goals, or things we want to work towards,” says the woman leading the meeting – you’re ashamed to admit you already forgot her name. “Does anyone want to share something about that?”
It takes a lot to hide your surprise when Logan raises his hand.
“Logan! Come on up!” She sounds as surprised as you feel, beckoning him to her.
The plastic chair he sits on creaks when he stands and his boots squeak against the shiny floor as he does as she asks. He looks so out of place on a podium; both larger than life behind the lectern and lost to the space of the stage. He clears his throat as he retrieves a paper from his pocket and unfolds it while his eyes scan the room until they land on yours. You give him a little nod of encouragement, and it kicks him into gear.
“Not good at this stuff, so I’m going to keep it brief,” he starts.
It earns him a chuckle or two from the other attendees, and you can tell he doesn’t expect it when he looks up from his paper. Your hands clasp together with nerves as you watch him divide his weight from one leg to another, before focussing his gaze back down.
“My life has changed a lot over the past few months. For the first time in a long time, it’s not all bad. Coming here has been good. I’m starting to feel more like I did before–”
He stops his monotonous droning with a frustrated sigh, stuffing the piece of paper in his pocket and sounding considerably more lively after.
“I have people I care about again, and um, it scares me. ‘Cause I don’t want to let them down, and every day I feel like I will because of all of my… past shit.” He pauses and swallows hard before he continues, “They show me so much kindness and understanding, that… that even though it’s fucking hard, I want to be able to see myself the way they see me. And allow them to care about me without feeling like I… have to earn it all the time, without destroying myself to do it.”
You exhale for what feels like the first time in an eternity.
“So, that’s what I’m currently working on.” Logan sighs. “That’s it. Thank you.”
A small applause follows, and you quickly unclasp your hands to join in.
Your palms hurt after.
– – – – –
“It was really nice, what you said in there,” you say, fingers caressing a little plastic chip of your own that you keep safe in your coat pocket. You haven’t felt proud of yourself in a while, but tonight you do.
The evening is nice, the setting sun bathing the city in hues of orange and pink. Your pace is slow and comfortable, your arm occasionally brushing Logan’s when you make room for all the other pedestrians. You didn’t plan on him walking you home, but he insisted and you enjoy the company – it makes you a little sad when you turn onto your street.
Logan scoffs in reply.
��I’m being serious,” you say, knocking your elbow against his arm on purpose now. “It was nice for people to hear a guy like you say those things. I’m proud of you.”
You swear he blushes. “A guy like me, huh?” he asks, almost amused.
It’s your turn to scoff. “You know what I mean.”
“A mutant?” He looks at you from the corner of his eye.
“No,” you say, because it’s not what you meant, but the hint of seriousness in his voice and the fact he’s not entirely wrong make you track back. “Well, maybe that, too, but I meant someone who looks like you, allowing themselves to be vulnerable. Sets a nice example.”
Logan doesn’t shoot your comments down like you expect. Instead, he seems to consider your words, maybe he even silently accepts the compliment. “Think you have some things to say that could set a nice example, too.”
“Maybe next time.”
During the comfortable silence that follows, you’re reminded of something you’ve been considering for weeks now. You hadn’t paid much attention to it since that night, but as you worked through the feelings that got you to that point, the question kept coming back.
“I’ve been wondering something,” you begin. “The night we met... What were you doing at the lookout?”
Logan glances at you, contemplating the question. “When I had just, um, gotten here, it wasn’t always easy to adjust, you know? So I went to all these places that I knew from back there, to ground myself, to see that things may be different, but that they’re not that different.”
“You went there on your side?”
He hums.
“By yourself?”
He hums again.
“Did you…” You hesitate to finish your sentence, both because you’re not sure if you have any right to ask and because you’ve reached your building. You stop walking, and Logan follows your lead.
“No, no, no, I… I can’t explain it, it’s just one of those places I was always drawn to,” Logan says, shoving his hands in the pockets of his jeans with a shrug. His brows furrow suddenly, his mind seemingly lost in something before his eyes flick back to yours. “Think it took me coming over here to find reason in it.”
It’s a thought that’s equal parts sad and lovely.
The silence that follows hangs between you, thick with something you can’t place, but Logan doesn’t look away from you, eyes scanning your face before they land back on yours. You can’t help thinking that maybe this is how he does it, and the question comes out before you can help it,
“Is mind reading part of the X-Gene thing?”
His eyes widen – amusement or surprise, you can’t say. “It can be.”
“Can you do it?”
“No,” he says. “And it’s for the best, fucking hurts when you can’t control it.” Then the start of a smile begins to form on his lips. “‘sides, I don’t know if I would have a lot of… consideration for people’s boundaries.”
It makes you chuckle. “Right. Not to mention some minds are probably a lot – imagine reading Wade’s mind.”
“Hurts to even imagine,” Logan says, gesturing for you to be quiet as he winces, but a smile breaks through anyway. When your shared laughter dies down, he jerks his chin at the building behind you, “This your place?”
“Wha–?” Going home long forgotten in the moment, you glance over your shoulder. “Oh! Yes.”
“All right,” he nods. “See you next week?”
“Definitely,” you reply.
“Oh,” Logan says right before you turn around. “Bring coffee? You owe me.”
You make a face at him. “You don’t have to– I’ll get you something else, I know you don’t like it.”
“I like it when I drink it with you.”
It’s incredibly hard to hide your grin. “Okay, I’ll bring coffee. See you next week, Logan.”
“See you.”
He lingers, watching you climb the steps, waiting until the door opens after you turn your key in the lock. It’s not until you close the door, when you can only make out his silhouette through the patterned glass window in it, that he walks off.
THE SUMMER
Walking back from a very successful job interview, you find yourself on your way to your friends with a big, plastic bottle of coke under your arm. It’s a warm feeling to know that you’ll soon have a job that suits you and that you have people to celebrate with; you look forward to seeing them and sharing this with them.
You’re invited inside with open arms, tight hugs, exclaimed praise and congratulations, and it makes you giddy, a feeling so foreign that you wish you could bottle it up right this instant. With a grin, you shake the Coca Cola bottle, before twisting the cap off. You let out an excited shout as you watch the foam shoot out from the top, bubbles and dark liquid pulsing down the neck of the bottle as cheers surround you.
It’s not champagne, but Althea grumbles about the soda ruining her floors, Wade gets mismatched glasses from the cupboard, and Logan clinks his glass to yours and tells you he’s proud of you.
It’s way better than champagne.
– – – – –
You’re in serious, desperate need of a new place…
The August heat is relentless, and the entire building’s AC isn’t working. It’s with considerable effort that you manage to make your way to your friends’ place, the promise of a constant, cold stream of wind the only thing that keeps you going. But when the front door opens, it isn’t with the welcoming, cool waft of air you were hoping for. Instead, there’s no temperature change, only Wade in his underwear.
“No.” It’s a little embarrassing how you literally pout, but these are desperate times. “Here, too?”
“If it wasn’t this fucking hot I’d be offended by that greeting.” He sighs. “Come in.”
Slightly defeated, you shuffle past the threshold, while Wade lingers. Mary Puppins trots by, an ice-pack wrapped in a towel secured on her back, and you catch a glimpse of Logan exiting the bedroom. He’s in black shorts and a ribbed, sleeveless shirt, and with a desperate groan, he lets himself fall back into the recliner in the living room.
“Tried everything, there’s no fixing that fucking thing.”
Wade makes a face, “Listen, I know what you’re thinking: Wade’s in his underwear, Logan’s emerging from the bedroom… But we didn’t fuck, it’s not that kind of st–”
“Who are you talking to?” you ask from behind him, glancing over his shoulder into the empty hallway.
“No one–You!” The door closes with a bang.
Confused, you walk further into the apartment. “Well, telling me you didn’t is just going to make me think that you did.” Wade darts past you and takes a seat on the couch, but you hang back and lean against the kitchen table to avoid sitting on leather.
Wade suddenly turns to face you. “Did I ever tell you about our time in The Void?”
“Wade,” Logan warns.
Wade’s eyes are sparkling with mischief and you can’t deny how fun it is to indulge the way he pushes Logan’s buttons. It’s a good distraction from how you’re drenched in sweat. And you’re actually curious.
You play your part, letting out a faux-scandalised gasp. “Did you..?”
“Oh, yeah, baby. Wolverine goes both ways. All the ways, really.” He grins. “We’re so alike.”
“Shut up. Both of you.” Logan groans, lacking any real threat as he adjusts in his seat and wipes some sweat off his brow. “It’s too fucking hot to be annoyed.”
It isn’t lost on you he doesn’t deny a thing.
– – – – –
Apartments look weird with nothing in them.
It’s what crossed your mind after you finished packing up your place three days ago, and it crosses your mind now as you look into the open space of your new one from the doorway. It’s a pleasant, late summer day; perfect weather to move, which was on your schedule for today.
“Incoming!” comes from behind you, followed by quick, heavy steps.
You jump aside as Ellie sails through the door, carefully setting a big box marked “Kitchen” down in its designated area, followed by Logan who is balancing three boxes at once. After a beat, Yukio follows, holding a single table lamp in her hand. It takes some effort not to laugh, not just because of how funny it looks, but also because you relate; after all the exhausting late nights you pulled packing up, that’s also the kind of energy you’re bringing to this.
It’s nice of them to help, and instead of shoving that feeling away in fear, you allow yourself to bask in it. You don’t get long, however, because more help has just arrived.
Wade. With Vanessa. Hands interlocked.
It draws everyone’s eyes to the doorway. Wade looks almost bashful, and it baffles you how someone who can say the most insane things unprompted, all without batting an eye, could blush while holding hands with a girl he likes. To his credit, he shakes it off quickly.
“All right, all right,” he says. “Stop ogling me and my girlfriend and get back to work everyone!”
– – – – –
“So it was like an experiment?” you ask, stirring the pot on your stove before taking a careful bite of food off your wooden spoon.
Tonight’s your first night hosting at your new place – Family Dinner, Wade had dubbed it. With fall setting in, you had an idea of what to make, but it still made you nervous to have everyone in your space. Logan saw right through you, offering to come over early to help you prepare.
Once he had arrived, it hadn’t taken long for him to admit he wasn’t much of a cook, so he mainly chopped vegetables as you chatted; you about your new place, Logan about his new job as a boxing instructor, Laura going off to college. You don’t remember exactly how the subject of his adamantium came up, but he was telling you freely about it.
“They needed someone who could regenerate fast enough to bond with it,” he explains. “I was in a dark place. Figured I didn’t have anything to lose if it didn’t work.”
You nod in understanding. “Do you… remember much about it?” You put your spoon down, then put the lid back on the pan.
Logan’s knife stops hitting the cutting board. “Yeah, I… I remember every second of it.”
You look at him then. His eyes are still cast down at his task. Unsure of what to say, you think about what you’d want to hear, and you find it might be best to say nothing at all. Instead, your hand finds his shoulder. Logan’s head turns to you, and you feel like the look you share is more important than anything you could’ve told him. His hand covers yours with an appreciative squeeze.
“But I’m trying to leave that there so I can focus on remembering what happens to me here.” As soon as he’s said it, his hand quickly slips off yours, adding, in a rush, “Here in this timeline, I mean.”
You smile at him, but a strange feeling settles in the pit of your stomach. “That sounds like a great idea.”
– – – – –
“I need your help with something,” you say, balancing your phone between your ear and your shoulder while you turn a birthday card over in your hand. Deciding you don’t like it, you throw it back on the pile of cards and continue your grocery shopping.
“Just say the word,” comes Logan’s reply from the other end.
“I need you to steal something out of the apartment for me.” There’s a silence, and you purposely let the feeling of trepidation linger.
“Am gonna need you to say a little more than just that.”
You laugh, “Wade’s been talking about getting a little frame for his polaroid. You know, the polaroid that you held on to for him in The Void, after the two of you fu–”
“Yes, I know the one,” he interjects with a huff. He pauses, sighs, then says, “Consider it done.”
THE PARTY
“There you are!” Wade shouts after he opens the door. He pulls you into a hug that you return with a wide smile. Over his shoulder, you see that the apartment’s crowded, bustling with people who are there for his birthday party.
“I got you something,” you say, offering the small package to him after you step inside and hang up your coat.
“Wouldn’t have let you in if you hadn’t,” he admits as he closes the door behind you with a bang. Wade takes the package from your hand, shaking it next to his ear but hearing it make no sound in response. “Is it a cock ring?”
You can’t help but laugh at that. “Unfortunately, they were all sold out.”
“They always are,” he says, making a disappointed face. Bottom lip tucked between your teeth, you watch as he tears at the wrapping paper to reveal his gift. He makes another face when he sees it. “Well, now I feel like an asshole. This is really nice.”
“Logan helped me kidnap it,” you explain, pointing at the picture. “And the little red hearts on the frame, well, they’re your color, but they also reminded me of how much you care about people.”
When he looks at you after, it’s with genuine emotion… but Wade is Wade. “Never thought I’d say this, but I’m kind of happy you walked in here barfing up the place.”
A strange mix of embarrassment and gratitude claws its way up your neck. “Thank you.”
“We should take a new one,” he decides suddenly, pointing at the picture. “You both should be in it.” His head turns, watching as Logan approaches the two of you. “But let’s be realistic, his shoulders are so broad he wouldn’t even fit in the frame, much less his bul–”
“Stop talking about my dick, Wade,” Logan snaps.
“I was saying only good things! Jeez, so sensitive…” Wade turns, putting the picture on the kitchen table behind him where it joins all the other gifts.
“Did he like it?” Logan asks, voice low.
“Yeah,” you smile.
“Good,” he replies. “Was a nice idea.”
You eye all the other gifts, some clearer who they are from than others. “What did you get him?”
The corner of Logan’s mouth lifts as he points at a roll of silver duct tape with a small red bow on top, making you fix them both with a confused look.
“It’s an inside joke,” Logan shrugs.
Wade’s eyes sparkle, but in a rare turn of events, he doesn’t elaborate, only adds, “It’s classified. I could tell you, but then I'd have to kill you.”
“And I have top level clearance, lieutenant,” you reply. You exhale through your nose in an amused laugh when Wade makes a surprised face that indicates you’ve gotten the reference. “What, you thought a Tom Cruise impression could save you?”
“No,” he grins, and as if on cue, the doorbell rings, “but that can. Birthday Boy duty calls, but I want it on record that I could do Top Gun, easily, while Tom would never be able to pull off Deadpool.”
– – – – –
The party settles into something comfortable, soft music in the background of lively chatter. Yukio has just finished telling you about a Professor Layton cosplay she’s doing when you excuse yourself, both your glass and your social battery empty enough to look for a momentary out. Finding your way through the crowd, you make it to the kitchen, filling your glass with water and taking a few sips.
While you do, the music suddenly gets louder, taking over for the steady chatter. You turn around, leaning back against the kitchen counter, and watch as Wade drags Vanessa to the middle of the apartment. People make room for them, exchanging looks while Wade wraps his arm around her waist, takes her hand in his and begins dancing with her. With a laugh, she slaps him on the chest, before settling into his embrace anyway. Some follow their lead, but your eyes stay glued to them. Wade spins Vanessa under his arm, the smile on her face bright enough to light up the entire room. In return, he looks at her with so much adoration he’s almost glowing himself. It fills you with warmth to see the both of them so happy.
It hits you how you haven’t thought about this in a while. You’d decided long ago that the future wasn’t something you had to worry about, but suddenly you’ve arrived, like you’re in some alternate reality where your future is now, and that it would be nice to share it with someone. The sting behind your eyes catches you a little off guard; mixed feelings of time that has been taken from you, but also of time you’re getting back with the life you now have.
For a while now, you’ve suspected the thing inside you is gone, that there isn’t much to feed off of anymore. If it is, it would make sense that there’s room for something else.
Wade and Vanessa make it look easy, even though you know it’s been far from easy for them. You suppose that’s what it’s like, especially as you get older. It’s less about big gestures, more about small ones; someone to make you laugh, to spin you under their arm, who knows how to apologize, seeks you out during your quiet moments–
“Do you dance?”
You startle, head turning towards the voice next to you–
“Logan,” you breathe.
It’s like you’re seeing him for the very first time. He’s standing so close, almost touching you but not quite, heat radiating off of him nonetheless. The plaid shirt he’s wearing isn’t even buttoned and still the fabric is pulled taunt over his shoulders and the thick of his biceps. He’s grinning, his nose pulled up in an adorable scrunch, the corner of his eyes crinkling - you never noticed before, but there’s a hint of green between the hazel.
It hits you so suddenly that you have to grab the counter to keep your balance. Everything that’s been happening, that you’ve been feeling, all the times something happened between the two of you that you couldn’t put your finger on… it falls into place with a well-timed, completely unrelated question and a glance at him.
You like him.
All you can do is blink at him, dazed, unable to speak, even more so when he leans in a little closer, mistaking your silence for misunderstanding. “I mean, not that I– You and Wade were doing a bit earlier, it’s a reference to–” Logan straightens suddenly, his expression slipping into concern as he watches you, “Are you okay?”
You feel warm, so aware of all his attention on you that you’re afraid he might be able to see your pulse blink rapidly below the angle of your jaw. “Yeah,” you reply, voice hoarse, looking away from him to blink the leftover wetness from earlier out of your eyes.
Anxiety claws its way into your chest, your mind coming to terms with what it’s puzzled together at such a sickening pace that there’s an immediate knot in your stomach. The party has instantly lost its shine, and you look down at the glass in your hand, gulping down its contents. You need to be alone with your thoughts, you need to think about this before–
“I gotta go,” you say in such a rush that it almost sounds like one word while you set your glass on the kitchen counter.
Logan’s eyes follow you as you push past him, grab your coat and reach for the doorknob. “Wait–”
“Bye, Logan.”
THE TABLE
Once at home, you change into something more comfortable, your mind racing while you peel your party clothes off, toss your bra aside, change into an oversized shirt and plop down on the couch after.
Despite having already established that your mind was occupied with other things for a very long time, it’s laughable in hindsight that you never noticed your feelings before. It’s not like you don’t know what Logan’s like; he’s kind, funny, supportive…
…broad, handsome.
Shit.
Why did you have to come to your senses? Things were better before that moment. Logan’s your friend, whom you met in the most unconventional way possible. It’s ridiculous to want more than what you have when what you have is good. Or to think that he would want more.
But he might.
Because you may have been occupied with depression, anxiety, recovery, and everything in between, but you were there; you remember the time you spent with him, the way he looks at you, drinks the coffee you like, laughs at your jokes, seems to know exactly when to call you, seeks you out in a crowd.
But it would change everyth–
Actually, not a whole lot would change, if you really think about it. You already see him all the time, you’ve seen the very worst of each other, overcome a great deal of hardship together, you make each other better, his friends are your…
friends.
You didn’t say goodbye to Wade.
The thought comes suddenly. It was his birthday party and you didn’t even say goodbye to him before you left. You’re a terrible friend. Dread sinks into your limbs, and you reach for your phone to type out a quick, apologetic message. Just as you hit send, there’s a series of loud knocks on the door, and it makes you freeze up where you’re seated.
“Are you in there?” a muffled voice calls out.
It’s Logan, you realize, and a plethora of fake excuses as to why you left the party early present themselves to your mind as you quickly make your way over to the door.
The first thing you notice when you open it is that he’s dripping wet from the rain, clothes soaked through and his hair flat. There’s a deep furrow in his brow, and it’s different from how he usually looks; he looks actually mad.
“Logan, is everything–” you begin, concerned, but he cuts you off by pushing past you and letting himself inside, boots stomping against the wooden floor.
“Jesus, here you are. Why’d you leave like that, huh? Saying goodbye, your eyes all wet. I went after you and you were fucking gone, it scared the shit out of me. Didn’t see the car at the lookout, but I went to look for you anyway, and you weren’t in the water, thank fuck–”
“Wait, you went–” you pause, the mental image of Logan running out into the rain to the cliffside making your eyes widen. “Did you think..?”
“Yeah,” he sighs, shoulders slumping.
“Shit.” Your heart is racing when you step closer to him. “No, I wasn’t… I don’t want that anymore.”
“Then what the fuck was that all about?”
The desperation and misunderstanding in his eyes is unmistakable, and you hate that you made him feel like that. “I was just… I needed a moment, after seeing Wade and Vanessa like that,” you say, trying to provide yourself with more time to think, unsure if you already want to broach the subject of why you really left.
“You… like Wade?” Logan asks, his frown deepening.
You can’t help the laugh that escapes you at the unexpected question. “No. I mean, I adore Wade, but not like that. He’s with Vanessa.”
The answer does nothing to change his expression. “And you want it to be different?”
His line of questioning confuses you. “I– No. Logan, this isn’t about Wade or Vanessa, but it’s about… what they have. Something that’s real, but imperfect, and that’s what actually makes it perfect, and I just… I was in a really bad place for such a long time, I didn’t give myself time to even think about… I haven’t felt myself wanting for so long,” your gaze flicks up to his. “Seeing them just made me realize there’s so much left that I still want.”
Internally, you curse the way he always makes you say too much, because you can see the understanding wash over his features. His expression softens, the balled fists by his side loosen, and his eyes search you, as if to see if that thing you want is him. There’s no doubt he finds his answer; you’re ever the open book when it comes to him, and your pulse quickens while he silently observes you.
Logan reaches for you so quickly that you can barely prepare for it, a hand on your waist to pull you in, another on your cheek to tip your face up and guide your mouth to his. A shaky breath sails out through your nose when your lips meet, your eyes fluttering shut and your palms sliding up his damp but warm chest to curl in the soaked fabric of his shirt. It’s eager, and the angle is off, but it’s quickly adjusted with a brief parting and a near in-sync tilt of your heads in the other direction.
Logan pulls away, but stays close, and you almost feel his words before hearing them, “Been… thinking about doing that.”
“Really?” you say, breathless and amused. “When did you, um, start wanting to do that?”
“Few weeks ago–Fuck, no, more than that. Almost did, that day after your first meeting, after you told me you were proud of me,” he admits. “But I wanted to give you time, space. Wasn’t sure if you felt–”
“I do. Didn’t realize it before, but I fucking do,” you assure him, another tug on his collar trying to pull him back to you. His admissions, knowing he wants you too, only make you want him more, like you have to make up for all the time you wasted not doing this sooner.
Logan’s hand on your waist holds you off. “I just don’t know how to… how to be this,” he confesses softly.
“That’s okay,” you say, your nose brushing against his. “I don’t either.”
He inches forward like he intends to kiss you again, but seems to reconsider, swallowing hard before saying, “Wouldn’t be the first time we figure it out together, huh?”
The words make you surge forward to close the gap between you, your brows creasing, attempting to convey everything you feel with one press of your lips to his. Logan’s hand slides from your cheek to the back of your head, pulling you to him in a way that seems to mirror your efforts. Something lights up inside you, something you lost long ago, and it makes you bold, opening your mouth under his to get a taste of him.
His grip on you tightens with a groan, spurring him into action and walking you backwards into the dark kitchen, the only illumination the slivers of moonlight that come through the kitchen window. You jolt when the back of your thighs hit the table, before you’re scrambling to get on top of it, two hands at your waist helping to hoist you up. Your thighs widen to make room for Logan’s while you push the green flannel shirt off his shoulders, struggling to peel it off his arms to the point you have to break away with a laugh to really get it right. It lands on the floor with a wet sound, before he reaches for the back of his shirt, curling his fingers around the collar and pulling it over his head.
Logan’s sturdy, warm to the touch and surprisingly pliant when you can’t help but let your fingers flit along the corded muscles and protruding veins while he toes off his shoes. His hand flies to the back of your head to fist the hair at the nape of your neck when your lips explore, find his jaw, and travel down his neck. A soft sound sails from his mouth, a barely audible moan that carries over into something deeper when your lips brush a spot just above his clavicle. Using the grip he has on you, he drags you back up to his mouth, doing some more of his own exploring when his warm tongue strokes against your own.
“You’re so good to me,” he murmurs with a buck of his hips against yours. The thrill of having him pushed up against you, half-hard, warm, full of promise, makes you moan, teeth clacking against his when you do. “Always so fucking good to me.”
It makes you want to protest, from the very moment you met, he’s the one always being that to you, but it dies on your tongue when Logan’s flicks over the tips of his fingers. His impatient hand finds its way between you, disappearing under the waistband of your underwear and stretching the material to make room. His name comes out as a whimper when his spit-slick fingers easily glide through the soft skin between your legs. He curses, another buck of his hips pressing his hand closer against you, and your kiss turns messy and uncoordinated when he dips one finger to touch your clit.
“This okay?” Logan asks when you gasp, drawing languid circles between your legs.
“Yeah, it’s just– Oh, god.” Two thick fingers find your entrance, swirling the wetness there around. “Been a while,” you manage to finish your sentence.
“I’ll make it good for you,” he promises. “You want that?”
All you can do is nod, and Logan presses a kiss to the corner of your mouth before he pulls his hand back. It’s paired with a wet sound that makes your cheeks heat, more so when you watch him get on his knees and yank you to the edge of the table, the quick turn of events and the casual display of his strength making you a little dizzy. Logan’s nose presses into the fabric between your legs with a sharp inhale, before quick, practiced moves work your underwear down your legs. One eager hand places a thigh on his shoulder as another holds you at the bend of your knee. You lie back, arching as you hurriedly pull your t-shirt over your head, leaning up on your elbows just in time to watch him bend down.
The feeling of Logan’s hot breath sailing out over your sensitive skin alone is enough to make you gasp. He drags his lips and nose across your folds, easing you into it as much as his lack of patience will allow before tasting you with a swipe of his tongue. It isn’t tentative or testing, but firm and sure, and clearly for his enjoyment as much as yours when he repeats his action and groans into you. The vibrations of it and the gentle scratch of his facial hair only add to the liquid feeling in the pit of your stomach. Letting go of your knee, he curls a strong arm around your thigh, spreading you open then pulling you flush against him while he sucks your clit into his mouth.
“Oh, that feels really good,” you spur him on, your heel digging in between his shoulder blades. You watch him with hooded eyes, shifting your weight to one elbow so you can cup your breast with a whine.
Logan’s eyes slip shut in focus, working his tongue up and down your clit and making you arch into his mouth. Reaching for you blindly, he slides a hand over yours on your chest, fingers fitting between your own and squeezing while his tongue slides lower to lick over where you’re dripping for him. He lets out an appreciative hum as he repeats the move until your thighs clench and shake around his ears. His tongue dips inside you, curling up against the slick walls of your cunt, and his name tumbles from your mouth, soft, pleading, making his eyes shoot open to meet yours.
The sight of him looking up at you like that from between your thighs, with dark eyes, the tip of his nose glistening with your wetness, will probably haunt you for the rest of your life.
Logan shushes your begging, pulling away and watching as your pussy clenches at the sudden lack of attention. “Let me give you something to come on,” he murmurs, before fitting a finger at your entrance. It meets absolutely no resistance, a second finger sliding inside with just as much ease, and he sets a steady, deep rhythm before his mouth returns to your clit.
“Oh, fuck, fuck, fuck–” Your head rolls back between your shoulder blades, mouth open on a silent gasp, but he draws your attention back to him with a curl of his fingers, finding a spot that makes you go rigid for a second. It all builds so fast, so suddenly. The hand on your chest shakes Logan’s off, finding the crown of his head and sliding your fingers into his hair. He’s too strong to really make purchase, but you try anyway, using your grip to roll your hips against him. The sound of his groans, every flick of his tongue and every squelching, delicious curl of his fingers all send you closer and closer, until his hand presses down on your belly, and…
“Logan,” you manage, voice sharp with a warning that comes too late when he makes you tumble over the edge.
It’s so much after so long, the force of it making you fall back against the table, something between a gasp and a shout tearing from your throat. He holds you tighter, to keep you in place and guide the desperate roll of your hips against his face. Your orgasm quickly slips into something bordering on oversensitivity, and you let out a dry sob that makes you slap a hand over your mouth when Logan’s tongue travels a path from where his stilled fingers disappear inside you, up to your clit. He stays there, gentle, uncharacteristically patient as you slowly come to a twitching halt.
He’s a blur when he comes back into your field of view after standing up, towering over you to watch as you come back down to earth. Becoming sharper with every heavy blink of your eyes, you notice the smile on his face is smug, that the hair surrounding it is a shade darker than the rest. You sigh softly when his fingers slip from you, the feeling of them sliding wetly over your clit making you tremble, but his touch doesn’t leave you completely when he moves to stroke the outside of your thigh.
“How’s that?” Logan dares to ask.
“Hmm, no speaking yet,” you protest.
Reaching for him, you slide both of your arms up over his broad shoulders, wrists crossed in the nape of his neck to pull him in for another kiss. It’s slow, and deep, the taste of yourself shared between the two of you as your tongue slides over his. The table protests with a creak when his hands land beside your head, more when his chest pushes down on yours and you wrap a leg around his waist to get him even closer. The hair scattered across his broad chest teases your nipples and the hard ridge of his cock strains against his jeans and presses up against your slick cunt. It makes your jaw go slack, stoking your desire and making you burn with the need to make him feel as good as he just made you feel.
With a push against his shoulders, you take him along as you sit upright again, accompanied by another creak of the table. Mouth still on his, you slide a hand down to cup him over his jeans, the weight of him against your wide open palm making you pulse. Logan grunts when your hand squeezes, and your mouth slides off his, kissing his jaw, sliding back down his neck. He cups your head, keeping you in place while watching your hand.
“Feels nice,” he husks, voice so deep it makes you want to push him aside and get on your knees for him, but then he asks, “Are you gonna let me fuck you?”
“God, yeah,” you say with a nod, watching as the mark you just sucked into his neck disappears far too soon while you continue rubbing him over the denim. “Want you inside of me.”
“Jesus–Then get it out,” he instructs, guiding your hand to his belt.
If you weren’t so turned on you might wince at how eager you are, at how quickly you tug the buckle open and pull the leather free. Logan groans when it relieves some of the pressure, letting his forehead rest against yours. Together, you watch your hands make quick work of his zipper, your fist closing around his cock while your other hand works his pants down until he can kick it off and under the table.
He fits nicely in your palm, heavy and ready, sticky at the tip. With a purse of your lips, you let your spit trickle down in a straight line, and he hisses when it hits him. Your free hand flattens against his stomach, sliding down along the hard planes of his body and following the vein just below his belly button down, until it meets your other hand that loosely strokes up to the root of his cock. Logan arches into you when you stroke back up with a tighter grip, all but getting on his toes to chase your touch. Using both of your hands to get all of him, you twist your fists in opposite directions once, twice, before circling his tip with one thumb. Your other hand curls around the underside of him, dragging some of your spit down to his balls with the tips of your fingers.
“F–fuck,” Logan stutters when you play with him there, cupping him in your hand as well as you can and squeezing his shaft when it twitches in response. His eyes slip shut as his palms land on the outside of your thighs with a smack, fingertips digging into your soft skin.
It makes you jolt, then grin, giddy from the sharp sting and the power you have over his pleasure. “How’s that?” you echo with a teasing lilt.
He does have the words to answer, albeit a little slurred, “‘S good, sweetheart.”
The nickname tacked on at the end takes root in your chest, blooms bright and makes you ache. You translate your appreciation into tightening your strokes and spreading more of the precome that steadily leaks from his tip around.
“C’mere,” Logan says softly, taking over for you with one hand, giving himself a few strokes before pushing your thighs further apart and shuffling closer to line himself up with you.
You’re so wet that the head of his cock is practically already slipping inside of you, but your hand clasps around his bicep when he really starts to breach you. After giving you a shallow little thrust, his hips draw back, before pushing a little further, gauging your reaction.
“Just like that,” you sigh, watching the careful slide of him in and out of you. “Keep going just like that.”
He gets you opened up like that, giving you a little more with each wind of his hips. Logan’s hand finds the back of your neck, his palm splaying out and keeping you close enough that you’re practically sharing air with each sigh and moan. Eventually, your knees have to draw up to his flanks in order for him to keep going and you wind a leg around his hip to close the final distance with a press of your heel into one of the firm cheeks of his ass. A long breath sails out from between your lips when you pulse around him, slowly adjusting to having all of him filling you up. You can tell he has to put considerable effort into letting you, wood groaning below you when he clutches onto the table.
“Fuck, it’s a lot,” you say, and when he grins against your mouth you can’t help but kiss him again – just a peck. The hand at the back of your neck squeezes in reassurance as he continues to let you lead, and it’s a small gesture, but it makes you feel warm all over. You melt into it his touch, your body relaxing as the pleasure of the stretch of him takes over.
“Can stay like this a little longer if you want,” he says, but the strain in his voice says something different.
“Hmm, no, you can move.” You’ve barely said it, or his hips are drawing back, and it would have made you laugh if it didn’t feel so fucking incredible. He almost slips from you completely, before sliding all the way back inside with a grunt. The table scrapes along the floor, and vaguely you register one of your chairs falling over in the process. When he repeats the action, the furniture squeaks again below you. “Just don’t break my table.”
The sound he makes in response is non-commital, and when he fucks back into you and nudges against something wonderful, you can’t say you disagree. Grabbing hold of his shoulder and using the leg you have wrapped around him, you roll your hips against his, and he begins to meet you halfway until you work up a rhythm together. The table protest further, a shrill sound filling the room after each slap of skin–
With a frustrated groan and accompanied by a startled squeal from yourself, Logan lifts you. The surprised laugh that threatens to bubble up your throat quickly morphs into something heavier that comes out with a rasp when he makes it all look unusually effortless. Attempting to brace yourself, you sling one arm over his shoulders, the other winding around his neck so you can rake your fingers through the hair at the back of his head. It’s a struggle to keep your balance, a helpless heel digging into the back of his thigh to keep yourself upright. Quick to aid, Logan slides an arm under you, fingers splayed across your ass as your knee hangs off the inside of his elbow. He turns a quarter, presses you up against the wall, and doesn’t miss a beat as he continues fucking you.
“Jesus, Logan,” you say, voice almost a growl and barely recognizable as your own.
With your new position, you can see him better, the both of you lit from the side with the window to your left. The moonlight paints him in a tapestry of light and shadows when the wind blows through the tree branches, momentarily amplifying the glint in his eyes and the flex of his chest and arms like a strobe light.
The different angle he finds with his cock is a little too good, the feeling of the thick base of him stretching you open with each thrust making you dazed and talkative, “It’s so deep like this, can–oh, my god–can feel you everywhere.”
Logan curses at your words, squeezing your waist and pushing you harder against the wall. There’s a deep-voiced appreciation of how good you feel in there too that doesn’t quite make it from your ears to your brain because somehow he’s still speeding up. His head ducks down to your chest, mouthing at the soft skin of your breast before closing his lips around a nipple.
You whine, using the grip you have on him to roll your hips against the piston of his while you pant into his crown. Though the sound he makes against you when you do it makes you beam with pride, it’s not something you can keep up for very long, your hold on him slacking after a few thrust until you slip back against the wall.
Logan pulls back when you do, tightening his hold on you while his eyes glide from the bounce of your tits that glisten with his spit to down between your bodies.
“Touch yourself,” he instructs, grunting when you immediately do as he says by bringing a hand down between where you’re joined. Your fingers spread in a V-shape around where he fucks into you, collecting some of your mixed arousal before using it to rub your clit. “That’s it, sweetheart, fuck, make yourself come.”
You nod, rapidly feeling everything zeroing in on the fingers that draw tight circles over your clit and that spot deep inside you that Logan’s finding with every thrust. “Yeah, fuck, I’m–Don’t stop, don’t stop, please–”
He’s coming before you are, tucking his head below your chin to let out a deep, drawn out moan against your neck that ends with his teeth grazing your skin. It’s so much, the pressure of him grinding himself into you with twitching, barely there thrusts, the heat of his release as it fills you where you’re gripping him like a vice, and as your fingers still twirl between your legs you come, and come, and come.
The leg you have wrapped around his hip slips off, but before your toes can even scrape the floor, he catches your thigh, cupping your ass with both hands now to keep you up, and close. With a soft, satisfied sound, you let your forehead fall against Logan’s shoulder, tasting the salt of his sweat with every light press of your lips there.
It takes you a moment to notice your back has come off the wall, that Logan is walking the both of you into your living room and to the couch. He bends his knees, dropping you between your pillows, where you land with as much grace as you can muster considering you feel like you’re made of lead. The soft couch is pleasant against your body, your sore limbs sinking into the cushions.
Logan fits himself between your legs again, widening them around his broad shoulders before his lips find your overstretched thighs, leaving marks and kisses up up up, until his tongue slips back into your pussy. Your back arches off the couch, hands shooting down to fist his hair with a whine while Logan’s hand fists his cock. As your eyes adjust to the darkness, you can tell he’s already getting hard again, and his tongue is making something swirl low in your belly that’s making you pant, and...
It’ll be a long night.
THE PEARL
It had taken a lot of convincing and downright groveling, but Wade had allowed you to bring a movie for movie night. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust your taste in movies, his main gripe with your choice was that it wasn’t a Christmas movie – mandatory for December. Wade’s right, but after you explained that it’s the movie you always watch at the end of the year (and after Logan and yourself conceded that yes, his birthday was technically also your anniversary) he’d agreed.
Now that you’re actually watching it, you suspect he’s genuinely invested, because after a handful of comments about The Hulk, he’s been quiet for longer than you’ve ever heard him be quiet.
In the scene on the screen, Mark Ruffalo’s character Dan and Keira Knightley’s character Gretta are taking an evening walk around New York City, dancing, singing and sharing music with each other as they do. Eventually, they stop and sit next to each other on some steps, watching as the city continues to move without them.
“...the most banal scenes are suddenly invested with so much meaning, ya know? All these banalities, they're suddenly turned into these… these beautiful, effervescent pearls,” Dan says, wistfully looking on as New York bustles around him. “I gotta say, as I've gotten older these pearls are just… becoming increasingly more and more rare to me.”
The arm Logan has slung around your shoulder tightens, and the couch creaks softly as you lean further into his side, your cheek squishing against his warm chest.
“More string than pearls?” Gretta inquires with a frown.
“Yeah. You got to travel over a lot more string to get to the pearls.” There’s a pause as he turns to look at her, “This moment is a pearl, Gretta.”
She gives him a hint of a smile. “It sort of is, isn't it?”
“All this has been a pearl,” he admits, sharing a look with her.
A finger curls under your chin, tipping your head up until your eyes meet Logan’s. He gives you the same look you just saw on the screen, his eyes soft as they take you in, the hint of green between the hazel illuminated by the light of the television. A thumb swipes over your bottom lip fondly, before he leans down to kiss you.
It takes a lot of string indeed.
Sometimes even interdimensional string.
– – – – –
(THE END)
If you made it all the way here, thanks for reading. Seriously. Please come say hi and/or share your thoughts via ask/messages/reblogs/whatever you feel comfortable with. I hope to share more writing soon - emphasis on hope, I'm not making promises, just an educated wish.
And lastly, if you're struggling with mental health problems, please don't wait for a handsome stranger to sweep you off your feet. I know from experience that it can be incredibly difficult to reach that hand out, but I also know from experience that things can get better. There are ways to get help and you deserve to get help 🫂
#dani writing#logan howlett x reader#wolverine x reader#logan howlett x you#wolverine x you#james logan howlett x reader#worst wolverine x reader#logan x reader#x men x reader#worst wolverine#wolverine fanfiction#wolverine smut
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ANOTHER WORD FOR HOMESICK (I WANT TO SAY YOUR NAME AGAIN) | M. BACHIRA
☼ tags ; omegaverse, afab + fem!omega!!reader, alpha!bachira, childhood friends to lovers, established reader backstory, coming-of-age, romance, mutual pining, implicit sexual content (virginity loss to an oc), explicit sexual content ft. bonding, knotting, penetration, oral (f!recieving), fingering, praise, lovey dovey dirty talk, petnames (mostly baby) 18+
++ notes: readers appearance is mostly non-descript but they are shorter than bachira and have several piercings and a tattoo which are explained in story.
☼ content warnings ; lore applicable sexism, sexual harassment of reader as a minor (details in authors note, explained further in extended authors note), lore applicable homophobia, implied bisexuality + referenced mutual queerness queerness, underage drinking, heat / estrus as a symptom of puberty
please thoroughly read content warnings and tags before clicking read more.
THIS IS PART ONE. CLICK HERE TO HERE PART TWO.
☼ ao3 link | extended authors note | fics for gaza
☼ wc ; 16.4k / 33.2k
☼ a/n ; sorry for the incredibly long wait. as always i got extremely carried away. but cheers for fujoneet reader coming after this! written as part of the @ficsforgaza intiative
as mentioned above, there is a scene in this part of the fic that has reader experiencing their first heat as a minor omega during their heat.
they are being sexually harassed underage. if you find this content may be too triggering to you - the scene starts at the the [ THIRTEEN ] subheader and ends indicated with ***.
☼ synopsis ; you can't decide on how you feel about alphas, but your resentment or discomfort around them grows stronger over time as an omega who presented particularly young
maybe that's why you feel so devastated upon hearing the news that bachira, your childhood best friend, had been hiding his alpha status from you your whole life.
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PART ONE: MAY THE BRIDGES I HAVE BURNED..
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[ NINE]
A car speeds past you when you turn the corner. Too fast, you watch it skid to a stop at a red light and feel your face grow flush. You tuck your chin into the collar of your coat, cold numbing your senses.
The mailman is at your door by the time you walk home. He smiles courteously and hands you the mail directly when you approach your front gate. You bow to him politely before taking it, the cold making your eyes water.
“I haven’t seen you in a while,” He says. Nakamura oji-chan has been running mail to this route since you were a little baby. Mama said he has a grandchild now so he works less hours. You’re glad to see him. “You’ve grown so big. What year are you in now?”
You hold up four fingers. “Fourth year. I’m nine,”
“You’re growing up well, then huh? That’s good.”
You’re not tall enough to reach the kitchen cabinets at the highest height and still losing baby teeth but other than that you think it’s pretty okay, so you nod. He laughs before turning to leave, and you make sure to stand in front of the door before he goes to be polite.
You shuffle through the mail as you walk inside. Warm air makes your face tingle. There’s two letters for you today. They’re addressed to your parents, but they’ve got your name on them so you think it’s okay to call them yours. One letter is from the hospital, but there’s another one too.
You don’t know what it is. It’s in a separate black envelope with a raised seal along and government postage. There’s some stuff for nii-chan and mama - plus some coupons that papa gets from a subscription service.
You announce yourself loudly once you’ve looked through it all. Only papa’s brown shoes are in the rack which means he’s the only one home.
Slipping your shoes off, you slide your feet into brand new Doraemon slippers and prop your bag up against the couch in the living room before finally hanging up your coat. Your tummy rumbles after you regain feeling in your fingers, and you decide the nap can be pushed back till after snack time making your way towards the kitchen.
You make sure to take the mail with you. Mama always tell you to leave it on the counter so she can take a look when she’s home. You’re good at remembering this.
Papa is working at the dining table when you come in. He works on a fancy computer from home some days. He smiles when he sees you, bright eyes pointed toward you. You decide to hand him the mail directly.
“Hey, sweetie.” His smile is soft. Ripe oranges sit for you on the counter, cut evenly on your favorite plate. Papa nudges them towards you with a smile. Quickly, you run to wash your hands and sit adjacent to him upon return. You start snacking on your oranges, wondering if he sliced them for you or just to eat. You sit folded up in the dining room chair as papa pats your head per routine. “How was school?”
You look down. “It was okay. We learned about praying mantis bugs. My friends thought they were scary but I thought they were cool, at least a little…”
Papa sits and waits for you to say more expectantly. You shrug, unable to think of anything more to say.
“They are, aren’t they? They’re really important to our eco-system.” Papa says. You nod. He starts to explain more to you about praying mantis bugs and you do your best to listen even as you feel your eyelids start to droop. You get sleepy early in winter because it’s dark so fast.
Even though you’re not listening too closely, you notice papa stops talking half-way through a sentence. You peek at him through your lashes. He’s holding the special envelope from before. Papa is very quiet when he reads it.
“What’re you reading?”
His eyes go wide. You wonder if papa is also tired, since he seems so surprised you’re there. His brows are furrow - putting the letter face down on the dining room table. He’s silent for a long time, though you don’t fuss to ask again.
“We got some important news in the mail,” Papa says quietly. He seems a little different somehow. “We’ll sit down when and talk about it when mama gets home, okay?”
“Am I in trouble?”
He smiles at you like normal this time but he still seems a little sad. “Not at all sweetheart. It’s just an important talk so I think we should be all together. Is that okay?”
“Yeah, that makes sense.” You tell him, looking down at your lap trying to figure out what to say so he stops seeming sad. “It’ll be okay, papa.”
Briefly surprised, he smiles again, using his hand on your face to pull you close to him wet kiss on your temple that you take in stride. You’re glad he seems to feel better.
“That’s right, I’m sure it’ll be fine.”
_
When mama comes home, her and papa sit and talk for a long time in the kitchen. They send you to nii-chans room. Predictably, he turns you away when you knock on his door and goes down to complain to your parents. You think that whatever happened must be more serious than you thought, since he comes back up and lets you sit in his room without complain upon return.
Nii-chan rarely invites you to do things with him by yourself, so you’re surprised when he invites you to his lap so you can watch him play games.
Mama always says he’s just going through a phase when he’s being mean. You think that makes sense. You’re happy when he’s nice, though.
After a while, papa comes to get you. Him and nii-chan talk in whispers about something and take not-so-subtle glances.
Papa starts to explain a little to you as you go down stairs, holding his hand. He squeezes it tighter than normal.
“Do you know what an omega is, sweetheart?”
You nod. You’ve got a vague understanding at least. Nii-chan is an alpha, papa is an omega and mama is a beta. It was hard for mama and papa to have you, so they consider you both miracles.
“Well, today, we got news about what you are,” Papa says. He tries to smile. “And you’re an omega like me.’
“Oh,” You say. You look up at him as you walk down the stairs. “Is that bad?”
He shakes his head when you ask, but strangely doesn’t end up saying no directly.
__
After you find out you’re an omega, nii-chan walks you to school for a few weeks.
You find this to be very strange for several reasons.
For one, nii-chan doesn’t really like school and he doesn’t seem to like spending time with you either. He started going this year, you think - something mama had said about getting his life sorted. Either way, he clearly doesn’t want to be going at all.
So, it doesn’t make sense when he starts accompanying you even a little.
“I can walk to school by myself,” You say, not really meaning anything by it. He stares down at you. You aren’t sure why he’s so mad. Nii-chan always seems a litle bit mad at everything. You wonder if all alphas are like that.
“Don’t be annoying,” He says, harsh. You bite your tongue and turn your gaze to the sidewalk under your feet.
“I’m not being annoying,” You clutch the straps of your bag, because you’re not. He’s the one who suddenly decided to walk you, which makes him the more annoying one. Plus, he’s always causing trouble at home anyway, not you.
“Didn’t they explain to you that you’re an omega?”
You look up at him confused wondering why it matters. He stares at you for a long time, and even gets angry again before scratching the back of his neck. His hand comes down to the top of your head and you flinch, expecting him to mess your hair up but he pats it instead.
“Stupid brat,” He sighs after that. You huff but try not to let it show. “Worry about yourself and shut up.”
__
[ TEN ]
There’s a playground near your house that’s a few minutes walk. It has a rusty swing set but a nice slide. Most importantly, there’s a patch of concrete you can jump rope and draw on. You like going there most of all with Miki-chan. Not today though. Miki-chan is out of town to visit her granny in Osaka.
Nii-chan offered to take you but you usually refuse him. It’s not to be mean, but just because doing things with nii-chan always makes you a little sad.
He’s moved from home now, but you still feel weird when you see him since he hasn’t liked you all this time. Mama tells you not to hold it against him - and that you’ll understand him better when you’re older. You hope that’s true. You try not to hold it against him.
But it doesn’t mean you want him with you at the park.
(You feel especially dejected when nii-chan acts cold to you but you can’t be sure why. Papa says it probably has something to do with your hormones, since nii-chan is an alpha. Something about packbonding. You don’t quite get it.
It’s starting to feel like every problem you have is because of being an omega, but you try to keep that thought to yourself so you don’t make papa sad.)
You bring your jump ropes and chalk along with you. The sky is half-blue, half-grey. You wonder if it might rain on your way there or if it’ll be blue and warm all over by then. You like the rain, but you’d prefer sunshine today so you can draw with chalk.
You think of things to do. You’ll sit on the swings first then jump rope, thenn draw. Or maybe it will rain and you’ll have to run home. You hope you didn’t jinx yourself.
Your neighborhood is small so you know the names and faces of all the kids there. Even the little ones who are in the grades beneath yours. Mama tells you it’s important to know your neighbors. You aren’t really trying to remember for that reason, though. It’s more like it bugs you not to know. You’re always like that.
Papa uses the word meticulous to describe you. Meh-tick-you-lus. It’s easy to say but hard to spell.
(Nii-chan says you’re just acting like an omega when you do things like that. This makes your parents upset, especially papa. You never take nii-chan seriously when he complains though. He complains about everything.)
When you arrive at the playground, there’s a boy on the grass playing with a soccer ball by himself. You’ve never seen him before. He’s got big wide-eyes and a shock of yellow hair underneath which is super cool. His hair is long, just a little shorter than yours and he even has bangs. You wonder if he’s an omega too, since you’ve only seen omega boys be that pretty.
Your heart beat fasts. It’d be nice to make a new friend, though you’re a bit unsure what to say. You’re a little nervous to approach him but you reason it’d be stranger not to.
“Hi,”
The boy stops playing with his ball, doing a trick to kick it up into his hands. He’s cool. Or at least very interesting. His eyes are bright, dark brown with a touch of yellow like his hair. You wonder if grows like that or if he’s allowed to dye it. He stares at you for a long time wordlessly. You shift your weight on your feet.
“Hi,” He says back.
You smile.
“What’s your name?”
“Bachira,”
He asks for yours and return and you give it to him.
“How old are you?”
“I’m ten,”
“Really? Me too,”
“Do you know how to play soccer?”
You shake your head. “My nii-chan plays it sometimes at his school, but I dunno how. I prefer jump rope. I can do some tricks with a jump rope.”
He lights up when you mention your nii-chan plays soccer, eager to ask you about it. “Is he good at it?”
“I think so,” You reply honestly. You ended up going to a lot of games when you were little. He used to practice lots in your backyard too and stayed after school. The memory makes you a little sad “He wanted to play it more but he got hurt. We went to a lot of matches when I was a baby. He has some trophies and stuff.”
“That’s so cool,” Bachira gushes. You shrug because you don’t really feel like agreeing. “Do you think he would play soccer with me?”
You shake your head dejectedly, eyes cast to the ground. “Probably not. He barely plays with me so I don’t think he’d play with you.”
You feel a little bad telling him that given he seems so excited, but it’s true. Soccer or not. It’d also be a little unfair if he played with Bachira, you think. Bachira visibly deflates.
“Oh,”
“It’s okay. I don’t think I’d be good at soccer but you can tell me about it.” You say, because Bachira seems fun to be around. He doesn’t seem interested but you go on. “The thing you did with your ball earlier was cool.”
He lights up again and you smile softly. “Really? I know a lot of other tricks, too. I’ll show them to you!”
You nod. “Okay. I’m gonna draw on the concrete while you play.”
You sit on the nearby patch of concrete and set your jump rope besides you as you open up your box of chalk - all brand new. You came in deciding to draw a cat or bunny, but decide to draw a soccer ball as a peace offering to your new companion.
“Okay! But you have to look up when I tell you or you’ll miss my tricks.”
“Sure,” You tell him.
As soon as you sit down down to draw, Bachira starts talking a mile a minute about soccer. He took your words to heart it seems like. You think he must really like soccer, maybe even more than you like jump rope and you really like jump rope. But you don’t mind listening to Bachira talk. He kind of reminds you of Miki-chan, who also talks a lot. It’s good since you prefer not to talk much.
“So the tricks and cool stuff you do with your feet is called dribbling?”
He brightens at the fact you put it together without him saying “Yeah!” following it up with “You’re really nice.”
Your brows raise in surprise as you shake your head. Embarrassed, you direct your gaze down towards your lap.
“Not really. I’m just normal.”
He doesn’t say anything else, just grins as he keeps going. You decide to keep drawing instead of talking, listening to Bachira ramble. He tells you to draw for a while he practices his tricks, so he can show you the best ones and you agree without any hassle.
You look through your plastic box of chalk, smiling as you choose a color. You decide to draw with dandelion yellow.
__
Bachira brings you home to meet his mom after he runs out of tricks to show you.
On the way there, he tells you more about her and himself. She’s his only parent, and she makes art so he thinks you’d like meeting her. Mama usually tells you not to follow strangers, but Bachira doesn’t feel like a stranger. He’s your friend and you find you really like him.
When you get there, Bachira’s mom seems very happy to meet you. She’s pretty and smells like paint. She asks you if you know your parents numbers, since they might be worried about you disappearing and you give it to her, even though you know you’ll get scolded.
It takes mama and papa twenty minutes to come over. Mama scolds you about doing something dangerous by yourself. You tell her it wasn’t dangerous because you were with Bachira and you really like Bachira.
They don’t scold you again after you say it.
__
(Bachira becomes apart of your daily life as easy as breathing. Despite going to different schools, you always walk to and from school together after meeting. You’re close friends, maybe even closer than you and Miki-chan who you’ve known since you were a baby.
Bachira always comes to pick you up anyway, and you walk home from school together every single day. He always has one hundred things to tell you but you like to listen to each and every one. You like how much Bachira has to say about everything.
On the way home, you play rock-paper-scissors on who’s house to go to. You like it best when Bachira comes over, but if nii-chan is home, you normally go over to his. Sometimes, you wish you went to the same school. Being with Bachira is always fun.
It’d be nice if you could be together all the time. You think if you were always with him, you’d never be bored. You wonder if it’s too much to hope Bachira feels the same. )
__
“So, you’re an omega?”
Bachira and you are playing in the yard today. Your room is getting renovated. According to otou-san, it should’ve been done a while ago to accommodate your nests but it’s getting done now instead. You’re in the backyard with a book, staring up at him as he joins you under the shade. It’s the end of summer break and everything is too hot.
You look at him. “Uh-huh. Otou-san is too.”
He stares at you for a long time before joining you in the grass. You feel weirdly self-conscious of the space he occupies next to you. You’ll be eleven soon enough. Bachira drapes his head in your lap as you sit, staring up at you. You don’t bother moving him. He’s always like that.
He puts his hands up and shades his face from the sun. His eyes glow yellow gold just like always.
“Does that mean you like alphas?”
The question is embarrassing somehow. Makes you feel weird because you can’t answer right away. You cast your gaze away and shrug, pretending to read your book but finding it hard to focus with Bachira’s eyes on you.
You read in a book that alpha and omegas fall in love most naturally. Sometimes they like betas. But you’ve always felt sure you like omegas, and you don’t want to lie to Bachira so you don’t.
“I don’t know,” You say truthfully. “I’m supposed too,”
“But do you?”
You can’t answer him right away. You scrunch your nose and think of nii-san, the only alpha you know personally. The idea of dating someone with any similarities to him troubles you, even though you know he’s not a bad guy. You shake your head.
“I don’t know. Alphas are too much,” You say after some time. That feels like the right choice. Sometimes, you see older kids and alphas and they all feel that way. “And they’re scary.”
“Then what about omegas?”
That feels easy to answer. Bachira stares at you intently and you flush, turning away and covering your face with your hand. “I like them…they’re pretty and smell nice.”
“Hm,” Bachira says. His expression is hard to read. You make a face at him, head tilted asking the same thing. “I think I might like alphas. I dunno though. I don’t know what I am,”
A pang of disappointment makes your chest ache but you bury it and smile at him. Just barely, corners of your lips lightly upturned. “That means we’re opposite.”
“But in a way it means we fit together right?” Bachira says, same as usual. Expectant. Content. Like it’s not a big deal at all. You nod and cast your gaze down to your lap again.
“Yeah. Right.”
__
[ ELEVEN ]
Fifth year students have special lessons for secondary sexes, before a secondary health examination.
In your fourth year, you learned about the characteristics of your primary sex which is most important for betas. Most people are betas, so you guess it makes sense they spend so much more time about it. Still, it’s a little surprising how little your teacher really discusses…anything at all.
You try to pay attention to the lesson but keep tuning out, finding it boring and most of all - not very useful. Otou-san had this conversation with you already. It’s not anything new.
You don’t mean to sound like a know-it-all of course, but with the way otou-san quizzes you on it, you’re pretty sure you know more than most of your classmates and maybe even your teacher.
You find your teacher leaves out a lot of important details about alphas and omegas, though you don’t feel you can or should correct her. During your lesson, you start to understand why Otou-san insisted on making you learn at home.
Reflecting on it, you think being an omega is a hassle. Sometimes it seems scary. Most times though, it just feels inconvenient. When people find it out about you, they always act like they know you. But they only know you’re an omega, so you doubt that’s true.
Your first heat hasn’t come yet since you’re on lots of medicines but you get all the same growing pains. New, tiny fangs are already forming in your mouth and your scent is stronger than most kids your age. Your body is already changing, growing and you have to get more check-ups than other people.
Okaa-san says that’s normal. That you’re normal. But it doesn’t really feel that way. You notice otou-san never uses the word normal, only says that you’re perfectly healthy.
You wonder if it’s something so strange that you’re teacher can’t discuss it. If your disposition is something so offputting. Omega’s are uncommon but not unheard of, right? So why does everyone seem so hush-hush?
You don’t know how to explain the feeling. It’s lonely. People know you’re an omega, but you don’t even know what that means. Don’t know what it means to feel like an omega either. But supposedly it dictates so much of your life.
You keep yourself from sighing as to not disturb your class. The led of your pencil snaps from pressure as you write in your work-book.
__
[ TWELVE ]
You return to the classroom early after health examinations.
It’s the start of the sixth year of your elementary. Most people are finding out their secondary sex for the first time today, but since you already know yours - you’re given a pass to go back and read quietly in the classroom until it’s over. Some people have already developed with strong, obvious scents but getting the official results require a medical check up.
You want to linger a little more so you can talk with all of your classmates but your P.E. teacher shoos you out of the room before long.
After you change out of your gym clothes and back into your uniform, you traverse down the hall and take the long way back. It’s April. The sun is out, peeking through the leaves as warm shades of spring bloom outside your schools windows.
The hallway is unusually quiet. You try to keep your steps light so the hall monitor doesn’t write you up for making noise and causing a disturbance.
You haven’t been able to shake the strange feeling since morning. Such an important day, met with anticipation - but you exist entirely outside of it. You almost feel noting towards it at all.
You’ve known you were an omega for nearly three years now and you’ve already heard rumors about you in relation.
It is isn’t all that important to you. But it is, at the same time since it seems important to other people.
Maybe it’s because you already know yours, but it makes you kind of uncomfortable to hear how your classmates talk about it.
You’ve never liked talking about being an omega, even though it’s not a secret. You pretend not to hear them when you’re in earshot but you always do.
Omegas are weaker, more annoying, too emotional. The only thing they have is attracting alphas, and most people want an alpha to take care of them. Alphas are bound to be successful, and they’re good at sports. It’s great that they have easier chances of seducing them and betas, too. They’re easy and weak so naturally an alpha will want to take care of them.
You’re used to hearing it, and rarely bother to correct them no matter how wrong they are. Sometimes, you want to point out to them you’re one of those things at all - but then, you wonder if that makes you weak and emotional so you never do. You’re not weak, nor annoying, and you rarely show your feelings to anyone.
You can’t make sense of whats expected of you and why your classmates laugh you off when you mention you like omegas, either. You’ve always preferred omegas and their company. They’re comfortable, understanding, easy to be with and smell nice.
There’s something exhausting about the idea you need to be with an alpha. All of it is tiresome. You can’t help but get the impression that from here on, it’ll only get harder to deal with and you don’t want that. You don’t want it to matter. You just want to be yourself.
Lost in thought, you arrive at the classroom. One of your friends seems to have arrived at the same time. Your heart skips a beat at the sight of her.
Akemi-chan is one of your good friends. She’s beautiful. She has long, straight hair and cut-across bangs and always smiles. There’s a mole under her eye and her scent is ripe and summery like peaches. She smiles when she sees you.
She’s so pretty and she stands to close to you - an arm around your waist with a comfortable laugh.
“Guess what!”
“Did you find out your secondary sex?”
She grins, brightening several degrees. “I’m an omega. And,” Her voice drops suddenly. “Chiyo-san is an alpha!”
“Ah,” Your voice drops.“Did you like Chiyo-san?”
She nods. “Now that I know she’s an alpha, I like her more, I guess?”
You try not to look sad, and try to quiet your heartbeat at the way she shows you affection she wouldn’t had you not both been omegas. She doesn’t pull away from you despite knowing you like omegas, so you still feel grateful. Akemi draws her cheek against yours gently. Scents you in the way friends do with her wrists.
You nod listen to her. The listless melancholy of whats forward draws your attention outside.
You notice storm clouds coming in as Akemi looks alongside you. It feels different.
It feels a little too early in spring for such stormy rain.
__
“I didn’t get the results of my secondary sex exam,”
You’re on your way home back from school when Bachira blurts this out to you. Your eyes widen slightly in surprise, turning to look at him so you can understand his feelings better. Given how quiet Bachira’s been today - you figured something was wrong.
You look at him, unsure of what to make of it.
“Does that bother you?”
Your question surprises him in return. It’s not unheard for people to present later. It manifests in everyone eventually, even betas. You don’t remember all the terminology though it has something to do with a specific hormone.
Bachira thinks on your question before looking down at his shoes. He shrugs. “Mm. Dunno. Guess it just makes me feel even more different.”
You think about what Bachira seems to go through at school and feel your heart tug. That makes sense you think.
You shake your head, with new and sudden resolve. “I think it’s fine. It kinda makes sense. I got mine early so you get yours late. We’re always like that, right?”
You hope the attempt to comfort him reaches him. When you look over and see him smiling, you feel unimaginable relief. The world feels more colorful when Bachira smiles. He pauses in the middle of the street, throwing an arm around your neck with a grin that feels like himself again.
“Yeah. Right.”
__
[ THIRTEEN ]
You can’t tell it’s your heat right away.
A fever breaks along your skin in a cramped train car. sweat clinging to your skin underneath your middle school uniform, a heat rash making your whole body itch. The noise around you becomes static, cottony as your heart starts thudding against your ribs.
Your ears are ringing. Time slows down around you as the speed of the subway seems to double underneath your feet. Your knees buckle as you try and hold yourself upright as the intense and unfamilar feeling of desire violates your senses. Too intense for your body. It doesn’t feel like you. You’re not in your right mind.
It’s too early. Most people’s heats don’t come for another year or two at least. You feel so unlucky as the pain flares, mixed with something burning between your legs.
You try to focus your thoughts elsewhere. You take the same train home every single day at the same time. Plenty of students take it, but clubs keep you later than most.
Bachira often comes with you just like he has today, so you focus on him. His middle school is a short-distance from yours so you try and walk home together when you can. A small promise that means the world to you. If you can’t go the full way, you always meet up at the intersection and walk the short distance together instead.
You focus on Bachira as he stands next to you. He’s watching a game of soccer on his new phone, turned sideways with a single headphone in. You watch it over his shoulder. You try too. Your skin scorches, hot like something crash-landing through the atmosphere as a tension grows between your legs. Sweat breaks out around your collar and the small of your spine. You feel out of your body - floating just outside of it. Your neck throbs, scent glands suddenly aching. Both wrist and neck, all of you—aching.
You can barely make any sense of your surroundings anymore. Your breathing is erratic as you grip onto the metal pole tight and try to make sense of your surroundings. You want to hold out until you can get to a stall. You’ve had a plan for this for as long as you can remember.
You just need to keep it together until the train stops.
There’s a man behind you. You don’t notice him until you do. You’re still wearing your uniform - short skirt rolled up to combat the heat of the season. A calloused hand reaches underneath the fabric. You think it’s an accident until it sticks between your inner thigh. It slides up slowly, getting closer to where it shouldn’t be. Your breath hitches. You shiver. Your body is hot.
“Are you an omega?” An older man, the one behind you murmurs. His voice is crass, grating and dark against your skin. Your stomach twists with fear as your gaze freezes you into place. Unable to find your voice as he touches you, you try not to recoil. Disgusted at your body reacts to the involuntary arousal that spikes in result of it. He’s an alpha. The acrid, overbearing nausea of an alphas scent drives itself into your center like a stake. You hate it so much it’s unbearable but every is so hot.
You have no control. Over anything. You’re terrified and barely there.
Fear makes you jump. Your conscious mind slowly loses its grip as you feel your skin dampen with increasing heat, skull throbbing. Your heat is coming and it’s coming fast. You breathe heavily in a pant, trying to ignore the sensation. Trying to ignore everything, just to drown out the oppressive scent of alpha invading your lungs as you tuck your chin.
“You’re a little young to be presenting like this. Having your heat on a train like this,” His voice weighs down on you oppresively. Your heart is so loud, clamoring noisily behind your ears as tears prick at your eyes. His hands go further and further and you flinch. Brushing where you don’t want to be touched you jolt.
our jolting makes Bachira look up from his phone.
“Are you trying to tempt an alpha?”
You’re not very conscious. You’re disgusted. You know this is normal but it feels wrong. You feel wrong. The horror is grounding in it’s own right. Fog clouds your mind, makes your senses sharp. You feel split at the seams. Fighting with your own consciousness, you can’t think of anything except trying to suppress your instincts. But it’s painful, so painful - and something sticky is running down your legs. It’s not you, it’s your body. It’s violating.
Your instincts want an alpha. Your body wants something you can’t understand to the point it aches inside of you, aches between your legs and makes you want to throw up.
Before the man behind you can get any further, your shaken awake by the sound of him practically shrieking. Bachira appears in the corners of your vision.
You’ve never seen him so angry.
You can see his hand reaching behind you. Your eyes gloss over as you stare at Bachira. The hand touching you is gone and you feel immediate comfort. You ground yourself in the warmth of his eyes. You try to find his face amidst your tears.
“Bachira-kun,” Your voice is a whimper. You tuck your head against his shoulder. “I’m scared, I’m so scared, it hurts,”
He stiffens and then his voice comes. It’s soothing, sounds just like him. High and soft. He hums a lullaby to you like nothings wrong. When his hand rests on your lower back, it doesn’t make you feel like crawling out of your own skin.
“It’s okay,” He whispers. “It’s safe. You’re safe. I’ll protect you, promise.”
It’s weird to see him this calm. The loud Bachira you know is never so poised, but he holds you steady. You whimper as he pushes you against his scent glands. He smells sweet. You huff it involuntarily. Bachira doesn’t tell you to stop.
When the train comes to a slow, you let him move you through the station and take you to the bathroom. Your knees are weak. He’s not the type to worry but you’ve made him so concerned.
He opens a stall and sets you gently on the toilet. The cool linoleum sobers you enough to look at Bachira. His worry, his concern, his care. You whimper.
“Hug me,” You practically beg. He hesitates, clicking himself into the stall alongside you as you let yourself drape around his waist. It’s not very different from how you usually are, is it? Bachira is always so affectionate, yet it feels so different.
He rubs the scent glands on his wrist on your neck.
Above you, Bachira is on his phone. Your brain is too hazy to make the details, but you think you hear your fathers voice on the other side of the line.
“Ji-chan will be here soon,” Bachira says. You clutch the back of Bachira’s uniform. It’s the first time he’s ever felt so broad. “Don’t worry.”
“Meguru. Thank you,” You say in a half-sob.
“Anytime,” He says, his voice small and high and so familiar. “I’ll always protect you. Promise. No alpha will touch you again.”
***
__
The reality of your first heat should be what you expect. You know these things happen. Otou-san has told you to be cautious everywhere you go for the last four years without fail.
But when it happens to you, it’s the first time you feel resentful about your secondary sex. Anger towards your body first, for not being able to control itself. Angry at the world next, for making you feel as if it’s your fault.
You grow averse to alphas in the after math. You try not to be. You try not to let your discomfort show and try not to become the sort of person who makes judgements on secondary sex - but for a long time, just the thought of being around them makes your bones chill.
The only thing that keeps you from being all negative is Bachira. His anger for you when discussing that day is enough to ease the burden. Bachira bears your hurt like its his.
You start calling Bachira, Meguru when you call him after he stays with you during your heat. It’s the last bridge of closeness to cross - the last barrier between you. He calls you by your first name too, sometimes a nickname if the mood suits him.
You find yourself so thankful to be his friend some days it makes you want to cry.
You find yourself even more grateful when he tells you he’s an omega. It comforts you. You think, he’s too good to be an alpha and too goo to be with one but you never tell him. It’ll happens someday and you think you’ll be sad.
But for now, you’re happy being by his side a little while longer.
__
[ FOURTEEN ]
Miki-chan invites you to celebrate her fourteenth birthday with a visit to the mall.
There’s a huge mall a little over half an hour away from Chiba that she’s been dying to visit since forever agp. Her nee-san takes all of you in her nice car, even letting you spend money on her card within reason. She’s a lot older than all of you, twice your age with a big girl job in Tokyo. She’s stylish and kind and always has fun nail designs because she works for a famous fashion magazine.
Otou-san has also given you an excessive amount of pocket money after you told him about your day-trip. You really weren’t planning on getting anything, but you’re glad to have something in case Bachira wants to make a purchase.
You’re stopped in for frozen yogurt, following Bachira as Miki-chan and another mutual friend, Sasaki-san wait for you to come up front. You watch amusedly as Bachira piles his frozen yogurt with more toppings. You’re pretty sure he’s not even going to finish it.
You peer at his cup from over his shoulder, watching him pile gummy bears onto his already loaded cup of frozen yogurt, wrinkling your nose in distaste.
“What flavor of froyo did you get this time?”
“Sea salt chocolate. For balance,” He says, dead seriously.
You smile involuntarily before brushing past him, spooning yogurt chips into your own cup. You get different things depending on your mood but always keep it simple. Since it’s hot and humid, you’re getting a coconut flavor with shaving, yogurt chips, fruit and strawberry sauce and sprinkles for good measure.
“You’re too much,” You move past him and wait for him to finish up at the counter. “But if you’re happy,”
“I’m always very happy. I have no place for sadness!” Bachira replies.
You give him another crooked smile, turning to where Miki and Sasaki are chatting.
“I’ll pay for Meguru-kun,” You announce. His frown is instant.
“Eh? No way, I brought money though? That’s why I put so much stuff,”
He’s pouting. You wonder if all omega boys are that cute naturally or if it’s just Bachira.
“Buy something with it later.”
He pouts, swallowing his complaint as he knows it’ll fall on deaf ears.
“Fine,” He huffs, placing his alongside yours on the weight. The cashier gives you two a knowing smile that you miss as she rings up, sticking a color-changing spoon in each before passing it back along with your change. “I’ll get you back for this.”
You don’t say anything as you watch the weight counter.
“Over one thousand yen…. you’re such a glutton,”
“I’ll split it with you as thanks,”
You make a face of disgust that makes him cackle as you both sit down and join your other friends. Bachira drags his chair to sit as close to you as possible, fully inserting himself into your personal space per usual. You eat a spoonful of your frozen yogurt, unconcerned. Sasaki stares at you for a bit. Your eyes meet and you tilt your head in confusion but she turns away.
“Miki-chan, is there anything else you want to look for?”
“New shoes, maybe.”
You glance at her then shake your head. “Pick something else.”
“…Okay. Thank you in advance, I guess,” Miki-says with a laugh. You smile a little.
You look over at Bachira who’s very enraptured in his fro-yo.. You lick your thumb as reach over and wipe the corners of his mouth - stained with chocolate.
“You eat like a kid,” Fondness unmistakable in your voice.
He shakes his head sagely. “Eating something delicious is supposed to make you eat like a kid, you know? And we are kids. This is what it means to be free citizens of the world! Of this great nation!”
“Uh-huh. I’ll take your word for it, but clean your mouth at least.”
Bachira looks at you with smeared mess of chocolate, worsened by another sugary bite. “Why should I worry about it when you’re here to do it for me?”
You give him flat look. Despite yourself though, you use a napkin from the middle of the table to wipe his mouth off. Miki scoffs at you both.
“If you’re too spoiled, she’ll get sick of you,” Miki-chan says bitterly.
“She’d never get sick of me. You on the other hand,”
You shake your head as the two of them hiss at each other. You’ve been friends for years and they still argue. It’s hard to say they’re oil and water. If anything, they’re so similar it baffles you why they don’t get along better then they do you. After a minute of glaring, she sighs and goes back to thinking of her shopping trip.
“Well if shoe’s are out of the question, maybe some new earrings. Oh! And we should get you some makeup you can wear at school.”
You shake your head. “I told you I’m not interested.”
“You’re wasting your beautiful omega looks. I won’t allow it,” Miki pouts at you even as you shake your head. “I promise it’ll be easy stuff. I just think it would look nice on you.”
Bachira doesn’t even look up. “You’re pretty the way you are.”
“Don’t say something that embarrassing,”
“It’s not embarrassing if it’s true,” He voices, sing-songy. His insistence only worsens your frown.
Sasaki glances between you again, you think. It’s too brief for you to catch but the weight of it lingers even when she pulls her gaze.
“Please? Just a little? I’m buying it for you so it’s fine right.”
“I know you said you want to practice on me but it’s not just that, right?”
Miki smiles at you, coy. “Eh… maybe? I want to max your potential more like. You’re not seeing my exquisite vision but I will make you.”
You shake your head, and sigh - pretending to be more troubled than you are. “Fine. We’ll go after. I want to go to another store too. For stationary,”
“You’re too much of a bookworm. Boring. Nerd!” Bachira says automatically.
“The one time we agree on something,” Miki replies.
You frown at both of them. “It’s important that the world has boring people. How else would we have laws?”
“Even you thinking about laws is so boring,”
You shake your head, displeased.
Conversation flows more steadily between you, Miki and Sasaki. Bachira tunes out, draping himself all over you once he’s done eating. He fidgets with your hands, resting his head on your shoulder. You adjust so you can eat while letting him.
“Pee,” Bachira announces abruptly. He stands up, arms over his head as his shirt slides over his belly, exposing skin. “Need to pee really bad. Pee time,”
“Do you want me to come with you?” You ask.
He looks down at you and smiles widely before shaking his head. “Mm, no. I’ll be fine. I can do it by myself. I’m no longer a kid!”
You give him a raise brow in reply to say can you? that makes him stick his tongue out. You chuckle at that. “Go pee then. Don’t get lost.”
“Yes, ma’am!”
Bachira does a salute before scurrying off to find the closest bathroom. Sure that’ll occupy his time, you smile to yourself as take a spoonfuls of your melty frozen yogurt - careful not to spill any as you put in your mouth and go back to conversation.
Sorry about that. What were you saying, Sasaki-san?”
She stares at you for a long time. “Are you two… like… together?”
You blink.
“Sorry?”
“You and him,” Sasaki reiterates. Besides her, Miki snorts.
“What a good question,”
You shoot her a unimpressed look. “Ignore her. No, we’re not.”
“What?” Sasaki says. The genuine disbelief shocks you a little. You’re used to Miki teasing you but not this. “Seriously? Even though he’s like that?”
“Oh, what? Like touchy?” You reply, starting to understand. Miki interrupts you.
“Don’t bother, Sasaki. It’s a lose cause.” She shakes her head.
“Again. Ignore her,” You emphasize, shooting her a glare. “Anyway no. We’re just childhood friends and he’s always been sort of clingy like that.”
“With everyone?” Sasaki says pointedly. “Or is it just because it’s you…?”
You pause.
You’ve never… considered that. You rarely have time to feel overly conscious about what Bachira does or doesn’t do with you. In the first place, he’s not the sort of person that’s easy to predict. He’s got more quirks than you can keep track of but all of it is Bachira. It makes no sense to question his idiosyncrasies this far in. There’s nothing he could do to make you think of him differently. Bachira doesn’t have many friends outside of you to begin with.
You blink a few times, considering it. “No, I’m…sure it’s just with anyone he feels very close too,”
“But to that extent? He was letting off his—“
Miki shoots her a look and shakes her head. You catch it but find yourself unable to ask, lost in thought. Too hung up on what feels like the edge of an epiphany.
There’s a long bout of silence until you shake your head.
Even if it’s only you, it doesn’t make a huge difference.
“Bachira is only interested in alphas,” You reply, remembering. Sasaki seems surprised by that for some strange reason. “It really doesn’t mean anything,”
Before long, Bachira returns to the table. He takes as long as you predicted, but you find you’re a little relieved to see him acting the same. He drops down and places his chin on your head, waiting for you to look up at him.
“Didja miss me?”
A sweet, familiar scent. A soft, high voice. A wild look. You look up at him, reassured by your own reminder of his sexuality. You grin mischievously.
“Not at all,” You say with fake nonchalance. He gasps.
“Rude!”
Yes, it’s fine. Still the same old Bachira.
__
[ FIFTEEN ]
“Oh,” You can’t mask the surprise in your voice as your older brother sits at the dining room table. “Nii-san.”
Your oldest brother has recently started at a real office job. It’s closer to your childhood home then his apartment, so some nights if he’s too exhausted - he’ll drop in and sleep in his old room. It’s rare you come across him though, since he’s usually home and asleep as soon as it’s night time.
He must’ve come from the office. He’s still wearing his dress shirt and tie, though he has the suit jacket he wears to the office laid over the back of a dining room chair. You try to get used to him looking like that, but the version of him most strongly in your head is all the years he spent as a delinquent.
His straightened out appearance is unusual for you no matter how often you come across it now. You mostly keep in touch through socials and sparse texts, and he sometimes calls you. His hair is dyed a natural color now and he only has his piercings in on days off. The few tattoos he used to show off are now well hidden under his clothes.
But his manor and demeanor are largely the same when he’s relaxed. The way he spreads out when he sits makes him look like the average delinquent. The familiarity of it is comfortable albeit funny.
“You’re home late,”
“I had student council,”
He taps his fingers against the table, a silent gesture for you to sit.
“You’re in student council? Since when?”
You shrug, setting your bag down to join him in the kitchen. “Since school started. I was roped into it,”
“Then are you in other clubs?”
“I’m in a volunteering club. We help the elderly and read with younger classes and help out around school.”
He pinches the bridge of his nose, tipping his head back. “We’re complete opposites somehow…”
You purse your lips, faintly amused as you open your fridge up. There’s more pudding then when you left in the morning, but you decide against asking as you take one and open a drawer for a spoon. “You were already skipping class and stuff by then, right? I remembered because you and kaa-san used to argue while I was doing homework.”
“You heard all of that?”
You open the plastic peel off lid and dip into the flan-like texture, nodding indifferently as you sit in the dining room chair across from him. “Uh-huh. Kinda hard not too.”
“It didn’t scare you?”
“Nah,” You tilt your head. “You glaring at me whenever you saw me did though. A little.”
His eyes go wide before sighing. “Sorry. I was a knucklehead back then.”
“It was fine. It made me a bit sad but I’m fine now. And I hope you don’t hate me any more?”
He gives you a half-hearted laugh, still feeling guilty. You’re mostly teasing. Nii-san has only grown increasingly over protective, though you still don’t know what he’s thinking. He also gives you allowance now, which is nice.
He leans back. “Nah, course not. How could I hate such a good kid?”
He reaches over to pet your head as you eat your pudding, giving you a smile you can’t really read. “Your birthday is soon right?”
“Uh-huh.”
“Got any plans?”
“I’ll probably drag Meguru-kun around to the bookstore.”
He makes a face at you. “That brat,”
“Don’t call him that.” You frowb. “I don’t get why you hate him so much anyway.”
“Because he’s always hanging around you and he’s—“ He shakes his fist aimlessly, unable to find the words. They’ve had arguments with each other for as long as you can remember. “Whatever. Fine. Just. Don’t marry him,”
“He likes alphas,” You say with ease. He looks at you incredulous, before shaking his head.
“Sure. Even if that changes don’t marry him. Don’t date him either. Settle down with someone nice,”
“No offense, nii-san but that’s not really a lecture I wanna hear from you,”
“See? He’s already rubbing off on you.”
__
“Huh? The two of you already broke up?”
Bachira lays on your bed on his stomach while you sit at your desk, his legs swinging up in the air. Predictably, he’s watching videos about dribbling on his phone.
You haven’t seen him in a few days but it makes sense that he wouldn’t have heard about it. Your relationship with Inoue wasn’t very public to begin with, at least not on her end. Aside from that, you always got the impression that things would turn out this way.
You’re sure that your own pessimism and detachment is part of the reason.
You busy yourself with the derivatives taunting you on your graphing paper, making an affirmative noise. “A couple of days ago,”
“Ehhh? Wasn’t she totally clingy with you, though?”
You shrug indifferently.
Inoue-san was the only other omega in your grade who likes other omegas. There’s rumours about Suzuki-kun who’s a second year and some other third years you don’t really know. Of them, Inoue was the only one you knew personally. You sit next to each other in class and joined the same clubs coincidentally.
A conversation in the club room making flyers devolved into one about secondary sexes and sexuality. Eventually, you landed on the topic of being an omega. You commiserated about it then, shared some words of camaraderie about the social woes of being the perceived weaker sex and became a little more comfortable with each other. You aren’t sure what thread of conversation exactly led to the talk of you both mutually preferring omegas.
Inoue-san confessed too, that unlike you who couldn’t figure out what you felt towards alphas, she knew with some certainty she didn’t like them at all.
Another few weeks of friendship and the steadily closing distance between you, one thing led to another. Inoue-san confessed to you first in a sort of abrupt and out of the blue way. It was a semi-impulsive decision to date her, but you thought she was pretty and nice. A puppy crush worth something, a youthful love affair.
So after summer break, the two of you started dating.
It was a short lived relationship. A break in routine. You dated for three months and broke up just this last week. The first month of your relationship was nice. You ate lunch together and texted a lot. The second month you went on dates. The third month had been fine for a little before everything seemed to rip at the seams and fall apart.
Inoue-san was nice to be with when you were alone. In the sanctity of storage rooms or her childhood bedroom - where there were no eyes to leer at either of you, she was everything you liked about being with an omegas. Soft skin, pretty eyes, an intoxicating scent that made your brain go alight when you touched her. She was comfortable to be with during your pre-heat, easy to touch and hold and caress.
It made sense to be with her in the way you always thought it would.
Fundamental differences in your feelings about being omegas in a relationship would appear sooner rather than later though. You’re sympathetic, which is why you don’t think you’re as hurt as you should be.
“I kinda knew. In the back of my mind, I guess,” You click the end of your pencil to push out more led, scribbling out some more numbers. “She always avoided crowds. Seemed paranoid about people finding out in general. So I thought it might be something like that.”
“You don’t seem very sad,” Bachira points out. You give him an amused smile from the corner of your eye.
“What kind of best friend would want me to be sad?”
“Nooo,” He whines at you, tossing a stuffed toy at you that you reflexively duck a way from. “I was just worried about you, jeez. Plus, I didn’t really like her, you know?”
There’s no way you couldn’t have known. Bachira being hesitant towards people in your life isn’t anything new. He’s never been fond of any new friends you’ve made, always openly jealous and always asking for assurance that he’s still your number one. Sometimes he’d go as far as doing it in front of them, which you reprimanded him for.
Sometimes.
You roll your eyes. “Oh I know,”
He grins. “I was being so nice this time,” He pouts, rolling onto his back with his arms crossed over his chest. He turns his face to your bedroom wall instead of you. “You should praise me. I wasn’t even mean to her face! Not once,”
“Pfft,” You laugh behind your hands. “Yeah, good job. Still, I didn’t think Inoue-san was that bad. She didn’t do anything to me,”
“She was ashamed of you,” Bachira says. It’s weird. A strangely serious sentiment that makes your eyes go wide.
“Not of me,” You correct. “Of us, maybe. I think she was being sincere when she said she liked me but I mean. I get it. It’s not something I go around telling people either, though I’ve been out for a while,”
There’s some impulse he bites down. It’s not like you’re defending her, but Bachira takes it as such and takes it personally as he does most things. You give him a small smile as you notice, so attuned to his moods. Even his petulance doesn’t shake you. Selfishness comes as naturally to Bachira as breathing.
“I wouldn’t be ashamed to be with you in public,” He bites his tongue again and you want to ask what could be on his mind. He’s intending the words to be lighthearted, but there’s weight there. You aren’t sure how you’re meant to hold it. “If were ever to fall madly in love with each other, I would tell the entire world.”
You try not to let it mean anything. The numbers on your page blur together so much you have to start a problem over. It takes you a second to pull the shake out of your voice.
“If you like something, don’t you usually tell the whole world anyway?” You say sardonically. Bachira frowns, huffs, turns his head away. His ears are pink.
“Yeah,” He says back and leaves it there. “Usually keeping it in makes me feel like I’m gonna explode into a million little pieces. Bleh,”
He slumps back onto one side of your bed and keeps watching his game. The sound of your pencil scratching along the paper makes up for the empty space.
__
[ SIXTEEN ]
On the field, Bachira shines brighter than any star in the night-sky.
You’re the only one here for todays game. His mom usually comes to whichever one she can, but she has an important exhibition on the other side of the country today. Bachira didn’t show any disappointment about it. You’re not sure how he feels but you doubt it affected too much.
When it comes to soccer, he becomes completely single-minded.
The soccer Bachira plays is a reflection of him. Golden yellow and free, like a shade only he can color with, that touches everything and makes it shine in its path.
The Bachira you know—the Meguru you’ve known your whole life is different when it comes to soccer. Soccer is the precedence of his entire existence. For Bachira, who enjoys being completely and entirely uninhibited, there’s nothing as freeing as the square PVC frames of a net.
He splits his life in two ways. Soccer and everything else.
The field are still mildly damp today. It lingers in the air, cooling on your skin as you watch him from the stands in utter awe. Rays of light spill through gaps in the thick clouds over head, shining down on the field and making each move vibrant.
The game goes on around you bustling endlessly. Noise from all sides. Whether that be in the stands with people talking amongst themselves, the shouting of coaches, or the players talking to one another. It’s loud all around, blurry movements of team mates passing the fall back and forth make up the scene. Guarding and passing, taking each other into consideration as all team sports encourage.
The soccer that Bachira plays is different from the soccer everyone else plays on the field. Selfish, ego-centric, enigmatic - you find that you can’t take a single breath or you might miss something. It’s antithetical how team sports are played. Eye-catching and flashy as he dribbles the ball along with his feet in a movement like a dance.
He’s mesmerizing. Despite all the things happening around you all at once, your gaze is fixated completely and utterly on Bachira. So bright it outshines everything else, everyone else, without feeling apologetic. Without reason or rhyme, without strategy. A soccer that demands to be seen.
This is a game with many players, but to you - it is simply the stage in which Bachira shows off his talent in it’s rawest form. Even in a place not well suited for it, Bachira shines. You’ve never seen anything so brilliant. It’s been years since you last attended a game and seen this applied version of himself.
It’s the first time Bachira has ever felt so close while feeling so far. It’s the first time you can’t hide from him, pinned underneath the honey-viscous weight of his presence.
He dribbles the ball between his feet and kicks hard into center stage, scores a goal so beautifully unpredictable the whole crowd roars in cheers and Bachira laughs like he’s delighted.
You love Bachira. You realize this as he stands like a center piece in the field.
Like the moon loves the sun. Like the sand loves the tide. Like shadows love light. Bachira is more beautiful playing soccer than you’ve ever seen him, and it occurs to you it’s taken you sixteen years to find this out.
He’s so beautiful you can’t tear yourself away. Can’t run from the realization.
His eyes find yours in the crowds of people, elated with his brows raised. You can practically hear him where he stands, lips curled around the words. Did you see that? Did you see the goal I made?
You break the neutrality of your face and grin wide, uncharacteristic as you chant his name. “Go, Meguru!”
Bachira laughs again as the game goes on. Your shining star, your ego-centric sun. Your heart is beating loud enough to crush your ribs.
What an incredible view.
__
(Namikaze highschool wins that round of their inter-high bracket. The team goes to celebrate. They never invite Bachira.
Today, though, Bachira has you. After the game, Bachira wraps you in a hug so tight it could break you. You wonder when he got so strong. His scent, overwhelming and sweet, mixes with the scent of sweat and deodorant. You like it. You hug like that for a while, suddenly aware of your lack of proximity.
A comment Sasaki-san made about you two years ago pops back into your head but you still don’t think to let him go.
After he showers and changes back into his usual attire, you and Bachira walk to the 7/11 around the corner of his house.
You sit on the curb, legs out stretched. The sun is in full bloom, sky painted an pastel orange melting into pinks and blues. You hand Bachira his soda water from your bag, and split the melon flavored popsicle you bought in two halves.
You give him the bigger half. Unusually, it’s very quiet between you two.
“I’m going to become the best striker in the world,” He says. A repeat of a dream you’ve heard before, but said with amazing conviction. You look at him for a long time. Wet hair and brown eyes. You tuck a piece of hair behind his ear to look at him better then smile.
“I know you are,”
His grin brightens. “Right! Right, so when that happens,” His voice drops, feather soft. “When it happens, make sure you’re watching me. Don’t look away or you’ll miss it. ‘Kay? You gotta promise.”
He holds out his pinky for you. Were his hands always so calloused? Were they always so big, you wonder. You look at Bachira and suddenly he seems so much older. You nod your head.
“Wouldn’t miss it for the world, Meguru.” )
__
[ SEVENTEEN ]
“Come over,” Bachira demands on the other side of the line. His voice is nearly a screech. You don’t think you’ve ever heard him so excited in your entire life and that is saying a whole lot. “Come over, now. Like right now! You have too, you absolutely must,”
You pull your bag up on your shoulders as you pull the phone away from your ears. “Jeez, jeez - alright. I just got back from my supplementary lessons, so give me a second.”
“Are you on the street in front of my house?”
“Huh? Yeah, I am.”
The phone line cuts off, going completely silent as you stare at your phone in a mix of confusion and disbelief. Your fingers hover over the call back icon for a second before a tremendously loud shout and even louder footsteps sound in your ears.
You’re too surprised to laugh as Bachira comes barreling towards you in minutes flat. You steel yourself preparing to catch him if he lands face-first, but he manages to pull back in record speed skidding to a halt. You blink at him rapidly. He feels like an illusion.
“You ran here,”
“Yes. I did. Because,” He grabs both of your hands and starts to tug you into some kind of spinning dance in the middle of the sidewalk. “I. Have. News!”
“News? What about?”
His eyes widen and shine brilliantly. “Bluelock!”
__
The act of disappearing requires a lot more work than you could’ve imagined.
You’re being dramatic. Bachira isn’t disappearing. Not forever, at least. He’s just going away for a while, abruptly doing the thing that he would’ve done regardless because it’s not like he can become the best striker in the world in Japan alone. It’s something that was bound to happen eventually.
And, it’s not like you didn’t get any warning. The letter came months beforehand. Bachira was set to leave towards the end of November, which meant he about a month to prepare. Which means you’ve had about a month to be with him.
It’s not a big deal. You have other friends. Other people. It’s good that Bachira is going to be in a place that he can play the soccer he’s always dreamed. Even as his best friend, there’s some things you can’t do for him. It’s the happiest you’ve ever seen him, which is saying more than you ever could.
Rationally, you know there’s nothing to worry about. Emotionally, you’ve found out that you rely on Bachira more than you thought. Even the thought of him leaving temporarily is making your heart wrench. You’ve asked him a million questions.
It’s not like you to be so anxious about anything. You ere on the side of calm. But it’s Bachira. Your Meguru, so you can’t help but worry.
Bachira, dense as he is about other people, sympathizes with your concerns without asking and doesn’t get mad when you answer. It’s easy for you to forget that he understands you in his own way.
Bachira depends on you because he cares about you and you take care of Bachira because you are about him. It fulfills a mutual sense of purpose.
This is a normal part of growing up. You’ve been repeating it to yourself constantly. It’s not like you won’t see him ever again. You’ll see him afterwards, at least for a little while. You won’t be able to call or text him while he’s in the facility but that’s not forever. And even while he’s in there, he wants to hear about your boring life. So he says, anyways.
Rationally, you know it’s fine. Emotionally, you’re growing a keen sense of awareness about this being the end of your so-called youth. It’s not you’re adults, but you’re not kids either. You’re going to be eighteen next year. You have to think about entrance exams. You have to think about life and where Bachira will go without you.
Time is passing by you whenever you hesitate. Eventually, it’ll catch up to you and Bachira will be somewhere so far out of your reach. There’s no one you can think of more perfect for center stage. No one’s soccer will every shine as brilliantly as Bachira’s.
But it’s lonely. In it’s own right. To think about how far he’ll go. He’ll dribble himself to the ends of the Earth eventually.
At least for another week though, he’s within your reach. You have so many pictures together in your room per his request over the last few years, but looking at him now you kind of wish you had more.
“Aren’t you wanting to practice?”
“Ehh?” He frowns. “I can practice later. But I can’t be in your room all the time you know. I want to burn it into my brain. I thought we should do something special to commemorate but I couldn’t figure anything out.”
You hum. A thought strikes you. It’s incredibly out of character, but maybe that’s why it does. “We could drink together.”
Bachira laughs at first, definitely assuming it was a joke. When he realizes you’re dead serious though, he gasps, scandalized. Your lips quirk up at the corners.
“Who are you? An impostor? A shadow clone?” Bachira grabs your shoulders and shakes you lightly. “What did you do with my uptight best friend?!”
You laugh helplessly. “Don’t act like that. I just know where my parents keep bottles of shochu cold in the basement and thought maybe. I’ve never touched it before. It’s the weekend right? So if we get too drunk, you can sleep here.”
Bachira dramatically places a hand over his mouth in shock. “Have you really been replaced by alien clones…I can’t believe my ears.”
You shake your head. “Do you want to drink together or not?”
“Ehhhh?? Of course I do!” Bachira says, absolutely enthused at the idea. “We should get so drunk together.”
You consider it. “My parents are visiting relatives. I guess I can text and see if nii-san is coming home.”
“Are you saying it’s okay to get drunk if he isn’t planning on coming?”
You nod. “He’d probably be easy on me but I don’t want him to lecture you,”
Bachira squishes his face to yours, rubbing his cheek on yours with unabashed affection. You try not to laugh. You can feel him so close, smell him so close it makes you a little dizzy. Bachira doesn’t let out his scent more than necessary, but he is now just barely - scent glands brushing against your skin.
He smells sweet, but in a strange way. It was comforting and familiar. A little unusual for an omega given how strong it was but it’s not like Bachira is very usual in general.
It’s a little intimate for friends, but it’s Bachira and who knows when you’d see him next. You let him do as he pleases.
“Hurry and text your brother,” Bachira huffs, then brightens back up again. “Then lets drink! Yay!”
__
You bring the bottles of shochu back up to your bedroom as a pre-caution. Nii-san is is a couple hours away for a work trip, but you can’t get over the lingering paranoia of him appearing back home and trying to fight Bachira as a result so you figure it’s probably better to drink in your room.
You bring two glasses up with you along with juice and soda water, unsure about the taste. Bachira likes soda water as is so maybe he can use it as a chaser.
You sit across from each other at the small table close to the floor in the middle of your room. It took a while to get the bottles open.
You’ve smelled it before but it’s a little weird having it available to drink.
“I can’t believe you’re drinking with me. Underage. You, of all people.”
You pour a little shochu into each of your cups with a roll of your eyes. You’ll save the mix-ins for later, but you’re interested in tasting it on its own. You’re sure your parents have other stuff too, sake, beer and wine but you don’t know where they keep it. You read the labels of the bottle before drinking it.
You brush past what Bachira has said. “Fourty-three percent seems like a lot.”
“That’s basically half right? Doesn’t that mean this is gonna make us super drunk? Ohh, think I’m gonna throw up in your room? I haven’t done that since we were ten!”
“Please don’t throw up in my room.” You say, shaking your head. “I don’t know actually. It seems like a lot. Guess we’ll just have to drink and see.”
You shrug. You pick up your glass, signaling Bachira to do the same. He lets out a loud kanpai as you do, making you laugh a little as you bring the glass up to your lips. The scent itself sort of burns, you can’t imagine what drinking it is gonna be like.
You watch aghast as Bachira knocks the entire glass back and nearly hacks up his lungs coughing. His eyes are wet when he recovers with a fit of laughter that he can’t seem to get control of.
“Ahhh, it burns! It burns so much and it tastes weird. But it was easier to drink at once.” He says dramatically laughing, nearly retching in the process.
You stare at him in disbelief before taking a sip of your own drink refusing to partake in the same foolishness. He’s right that it burns. You always heard that but feeling the acidity in your mouth is different. It feels like all the moisture from your mouth is going along with it. You try it a few more times in short sips.
Are you some sort of masochist?
“I kind of…” You blink. Your eyes water as you look up at Bachira. “I kind of like it…?”
Bachira takes the bottle into his own hands that time and pours more of it straight into your glass and less into his. You’re sitting but you feel woozy. He pours soda and juice along his own before picking it up again, smiling with a friendly cheers.
__
Hours pass.
You and Bachira drink two entire bottles and talk to each other about nothing in particular. Mostly, it’s Bachira telling you how excited he is to go to Bluelock and you listening. You like listening to him. You love his voice.
You’re not sure when exactly the distance between you had disappeared entirely. You’re used to Bachira. To his body heat, to his presence, to his weight. You know how to carry him. Maybe it’s the alcohol. Maybe it’s the drawn out feeling of loneliness making you feel self-conscious.
You don’t know what it is exactly. But there’s something about him at this proximity you’re having a hard time with. Wrapped up together, tangled on your bedroom floor while you both reek of liquor. He smells like burnt honey and he’s… handsome. More than he is pretty, you think. Still pretty though too.
He’s so unusual in every way. Your love for him sort of simmers underneath you in a pleasant but difficult way. You blink. Your eyes are bleary. He talks so much, but it’s the first time you really think about kissing him. The first time you wonder about how it feels.
You’re staring. Bachira pauses halfway as you’re tucked against him and stares back, mouth curled into familiar chesire grin. He drops his voice down to a whisper.
“What?” He says. He’s being teasing. He does that occasionally.
“Nothing,” You say and want to shut your eyes. “Keep talking. ‘s fine.”
“It’s not nothing,” He whines petulantly. “You’re not listeninggggg,”
“Sorry.”
He hugs you, an arm slipping under you and squeezing you. Was he always so strong? You figured his legs might be but there’s muscle in his arms too. “I’m not actually mad, dummy.”
“I was sorry, though.” A beat of silence. A heartbeat. “I’m gonna miss you.”
“Really?”
You look at him incredulous. “Of course. Did you think I wouldn’t?”
“You’re hard to read sometimes! Even for me.”
You decide not to apologize again. Bachira would complain. You desperately want to tell him you love him. They’re the only words on you mind. But even this wasted, you can’t bring yourself to do something that pointless.
“You’re the most important person in my entire life,” You opt for instead. “And I hope you find someone who can play the kind of soccer that’s fun for you.”
Another minute of silence passes before you hear the familiar huff of Bachira crying. He cries often but he hasn’t done it in front of you for quite some time. He tucks himself against your neck and shoulder, shifting to press against your scent glands.
“I was doing a good job not trying before this,” He mutters. You rub his back soothingly, smiling a bit. “Gosh…don’t be so sappy like that randomly. It’s bad for my heart!”
Your own throat feels thick but you keep it down. Manage to swallow the tears away. You want to tell him so badly it’s making it hard to breathe.
Bachira looks up after a while. You do him the courtesy of wiping his tears away with your thumb, brushing them away from his face.
You don’t realize how close your faces have gotten until you nearly brush against his nose.
You think the alcohol is making you hallucinate when you feel a kiss.
Your eyes are still open for it. It’s not clumsy but it’s not smooth either. You blink. And you feel it again, and it lingers a little longer until you close your eyes and kiss back.
You kiss him so hard it feels like you forget how to breathe.
__
You don’t talk about it.
When Bachira wakes up the next day thoroughly hung-over and much in the same condition, treating you exactly the same - you assume he’s forgotten about it unlike you. You try not to let it weigh on you by writing it off as one of Bachira’s many quirks. Maybe you’ve gotten practice at repressing your emotions better than you thought since it works perfectly.
The week passes by easily. At the end of it, you see Bachira off along with his mom and the rest of your family who insisted on waving him off. The thought of not knowing the next time you’ll see him is painful but you manage it with the feeling you’ll see him eventually.
Though you don’t know how long it’ll be.
__
The next time you see Bachira’s face is on T.V.
It’s the first time you’ve ever sat in your living room to watch a game of soccer. You had wanted to attend, but tickets had only been alloted for family. You settled on watching at home, though Bachira’s mom had promised she would relay any messages she could from Bachira to you through text and otherwise.
You’ve never been into soccer. Despite your many years spent along side it for one reason or another, the sport itself has rarely ever been of any interest. You’re sure this is partly to blame on the fact you are hilariously unathletic albeit perfectly healthy.
When the U-2o match gets announced and you hear Bluelock will be playing, your ears perk up like a dog. You’re glad Bachira isn’t around to see how you announce to your entire house and tell them the T.V. and living room will be totally occupied during the duration of the match. You invite Miki-chan who pretends to want to refuse but comes over to watch anyway. Your nii-san joins you, which isn’t a surprise since he liked soccer to begin with.
You know whats happening well enough since you’ve had it explained to you hundreds of times.
You see several people on the screen during the match. Bachira’s team mates. Team mates he gets along with. There’s another player named Isagi on the field and him and Bachira have such tangible chemistry you feel a little jealous watching them.
In the short few months Bachira has been away at Bluelock, you can see how he’s changed. How much his soccer has transformed and improved in so little time.
Most of all, you can tell that Bachira is having the best time of his entire life. You can deal with the mild envy if only he gets to be that happy forever.
The U-20 games end in a victory for the Bluelock team and several interesting characters appearing. That guy, Isagi, announces to the world that he’s going to be the one to lead the team to victory. You think to yourself that you understand exactly why Bachira likes him.
The next time you see Bachira in person is not long after that. Apparently as a reward for their win, they’d been granted two weeks of free time.
It was only a few months, but it’s easy to tell how much Bachira has changed. It was all over him. He carried himself with more confidence, more electricity, more buzz.
He was still himself while being completely unrecognizable at the same time.
You were happy Bachira was happy, elated to hear all about his life and new friends. You couldn’t keep track of all of it, but you’ve been spending the last few days attached at the hip now that he was back in your hometown.
He’d had another day to visit friends already out in Shibuya that you couldn’t attend. Not that you really wanted too. You were happy he extended the invite but being around that many athletes and no doubt many alphas sounded like a nightmare.
You figured he would have another day or two like that as is, so when he texts you again that he’ll be meeting with some Bluelock friends, you’re content to let him go and not tag along despite yourself. As much some whiny part of you wanted to monopolize him completely (an omega part of you, you can admit) you feel it’s more important for Bachira to nurture his newer relationships on his own.
And again, being around that many alpha athlete teenage boys is mildly nightmarish to you in particular.
So you invited Sasaki to the mall to talk about this and that to keep your time occupied. She’d started dating some guy at school and you have yet to know the details.
You weren’t expecting to run into Bachira with his friends at the same mall.
You catch Bachira’s eye from across the way in the middle of the mall, along with a group of boys you know to be his new team mates. You honestly think it’d be better to avoid them for now. Not that you’re not happy to see Bachira, but there’s no way this won’t be incredibly awkward for you.
Sasaki nudges you though, not caring in the slightest at your visible distress. “Isn’t that Bachira-kun?”
“Yes,” You hiss, trying not to be obvious. “Let’s go the other way.”
“Huh? Why?”
“Because—“
You turn around to leave but don’t really get a chance as you hear a voice shout your name.
You flinch as you turn around. Sasaki gives you an amused look that you elbow her for immediately, feeling yourself jolt. After she makes fun of you, she holds your hand with an affirming squeeze and comforts you in a way only betas can - a soft citrus scent washing over you. You squeeze her hand back sighing, thankful as the group of boys stalk over to you.
Bachira runs more than he walks, skidding to a halt in front of you. “Ehhh? What are you doing here?”
“Came to gossip and walk around with Sasaki-chan,” You say with a shrug, pointedly ignoring the three pairs of eyes on you as you talk. “And buy books.”
“I thought you said you couldn’t come,” Bachira pouts at you, giving you a pointed look. You smile lightly.
“I didn’t say that,” You reply softly. “I didn’t want to intrude, that’s all.”
“You’re not intruding! Even if you were, I wouldn’t really care.”
“But you should,” You insist, shaking your head. You turn to his friends, getting a better look at them. Two alphas and one beta if your nose is right. You look at them apologetically. “Sorry about interrupting your outing.”
The one of them with pink hair and the prettiest features you’ve ever seen talks first. You’re sure people mistake him for an omega, but his scent is too alpha like for that to be the case. It’s strong enough and distinct enough for you to identify from this distance. “Not at all. I’m Chigiri. This is Nagi,” He says, introducing the other alpha next to him. “And I figure you already know of Isagi,”
You smile a little at that. “Ah, yeah. I do, actually.” You glance at Isagi. He’s a beta in the way he feels like the pinnacle of peace and safety off the field. It’s a little funny how different he seems. They all seem, really.
“Stop getting so buddy-buddy with them,” Bachira bemoans. You frown at him.
“Sorry about him,” You introduce your name first, then Sasaki. “We’re all childhood friends. It’s nice to meet all of you. Sorry to disturb your day off.”
“You’re not disturbing us,” Isagi says serenely. You think he seems a touch smug but can’t tell if you’re imagining it.
“You’re welcome to hang out,” Chigiri says next. He and Isagi share an unreadable but obviously conspiratorial look. Your eyes widen at the offer, shaking your head with your hands up.
“Ah. No, we don’t want to intrude seriously.”
“Why are you deciding for me?” Sasaki cuts in, making you shoot her a very sharp glare. “Shouldn’t you at least ask?”
“You’re not intruding,” Chigiri assures, an incredibly disarming smile on his face. “We’d be bound to see each other again if we’re both here anyways. May as well, right?”
You feel yourself sink, glancing at a very Bachira and thinking of the complaints you’re going to receive as soon as the two of you are alone. Your shoulders slump as you reluctantly smile, lips pressed into a flat line.
‘That’s true. If you’re sure you don’t mind, then alright.
__
For alphas, you think Bachira’s friends are pretty nice.
Nagi barely speaks, but he’s weirdly been engaged in conversation for the entire duration of you knowing him. He’s got the imposing looks and vibe of an alpha but precisely none of the aggression - at least from where you’re standing. He’s been considerate of you in his own way, especially after Bachira had announced the general discomfort you had felt towards alphas over all.
Chigiri is similarly nice. You can tell he grew up around omegas and are not surprised at all when he informs you he has omega sisters in his house. He’s extremely friendly for an alpha, and you’re sure another omega would be foaming at the mouth at how polite he is.
Of his friends though, you still take preference to Isagi. He is a beta through and through. Adaptable, friendly, easy going while having a sort of snark you find incredibly entertaining. Him and Bachira get along like a house on fire, but not in way that’s entire negative. You do feel a little envious seeing how close they’ve gotten in such a short period of time, but you’re mostly happy for him. Their bond is obviously special.
The rest of your group left a few moments ago, leaving you and Isagi to a much bedgrudging Bachira. You’d gotten food from the food court but it wouldn’t require so many people to go wait so you and Isagi have been securing a spot. You aren’t sure how to be alone with him, never been all that good with strangers.
Isagi is good at making conversation though, so you haven’t had to do much leg work.
You end up at the topic of Bluelock and Isagi practically beams at the chance to talk about it. It’s kind of cute in it’s own right. You know some stuff about it, but the logistics have been lost on you. Bachira tends to talk about these things more with onomatopoeias than with words.
You fiddle with something on the end of your bag as you engage in conversation.
“How does the facility manage like… having omegas and stuff in there?” You wonder. You voiced the concern to Bachira before leaving too but he had assured you it’d be fine. You kind of feel nosy asking.
Isagi shoots you a confused look. “Hm? Bluelock doesn’t have any omegas. It sucks but they considered it too high risk so only betas and alphas were admitted.”
Your turn to look confused. “Sorry? But Bachira is enrolled in it no…?”
Isagi stares at you. “Uh,” He scratches the back of his neck. “Bachira is an alpha, though? Like, a pretty strong one too. It’s hard to tell from his scent from what I hear but he’s prescribed the really high dose medications that the other alphas take. Part of the rut management and everything.”
You blink.
“…That’s…” And then you look up, completely unsure of what to say. “..Are you sure? Like… really sure?”
Isagi looks at you sympathetically. His voice is soft and comforting. “Yeah. I’m sure. Sorry,”
You shake your head. “No it’s,” You feel your eyes start to well up, chest feeling especially tight. “It’s okay. It’s not like you did anything wrong.”
“You’re a nice girl, huh?” Isagi says, voice tender and easily sensing your sudden distress. It makes your lip wobble. You want to cry into a strangers arms even though you absolutely can’t. “I’ll scold him for you.”
You give him a thankful look. “I’m gonna uh,” You swallow. “Go to the bathroom. When Sasaki comes back tell her to text me. And Bachira, uhm. I guess just tell him I went home.”
Isagi smiles. “Sure.”
You thank him again picking up your few things hastily and bolting in the opposite direction.
You don’t really know what you’re supposed to do or how you’re so suppose to receive the information. It’s not a sense of betrayal you feel welling up inside of you, but something closer to a sudden deep remorse and regret. And so much shock you can barely make sense of anything. You feel the sorry in your bones, and you feel the paved memories of your entire lifetime begging to shake under your feet.
Bachira is still Bachira.
But he’s an alpha. An alpha who likes other alphas, in the same way you’re an omega who likes other omegas. He’s like you. You shared this your entire life, but you never knew not once. You didn’t even have any idea.
What kind of friend does that make you? What kind of friend have you been to him all this time? Was it bad enough that he couldn’t share it? When you’ve depended on him so much?
You don’t know how you end up in a bathroom. It’s in such a far away part of the mall. You feel out of body, moving on autopilot as you shuffle into the empty stall and sit on the toliet with your bag and your things.
You’re reminded of your first heat on the train back from middle school. An old memory but not old enough you easily forget. Hesitance turned to frustration and disgust towards alphas. You’d avoided after that for years and still do now. Was it then?
Despondent, you aren’t sure what to do with yourself. The echo of stalls, the noise of people loudly outside, the forceful beat of your heart. A reminder that you’re really living through this realization so late. It’s weird. It hurts so much you can barely think through your thoughts and come upon any answers on how to go on.
It’s not hard to understand why. Bachira is selfish but he’s also loyal. You’re sure that sometime ago, to protect the vulnerable version of you who was already so distrusting of alphas, Bachira had kept it from you as to break your perception any further. You can’t blame him for that, especially when that distrust towards alphas yet to dissolve completely. Of course he wouldn’t be comfortable telling you.
You can’t bring yourself to hate him over it and never would. You’d spend the rest of your life trying to unglue the fused parts of yourself with him, the memories and you’d never see the end of it if you attempted.
What hurts you is that he never told you. Not ever. Not even when you voiced your worries about his heats in Bluelock. Not even as you drank together. Not even when he kissed you.
Was he never going to tell you?
Did he never trust you enough to tell you?
That hurts most. You only have yourself to blame. The thought makes your heart wrench. Your eyes water as you focus in on the ground and try to breathe.
The door of the bathroom itself opens and shuts all of a sudden, familiar footfall making hundreds of alarm bells go off at once. You already know it’s Bachira, but for the first time you don’t know what you’re meant to say to him. The feeling is so complex you can barely put it in words for yourself. How were you meant to face him?
“Meguru,”
You can hear him whimper on the other side of the stall door, fists hitting it in a dull thud.
“I’m sorry,” He’s crying. You want to open the door and comfort him so badly but shame stops you. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry - it’s all my fault. Don’t hate me, please don’t hate me.”
You hate hearing him cry. Squeezing your eyes shut, you try to keep your voice steady. “I don’t hate you at all.”
“You’re lying. You won’t even open the door to look at me.”
“I just can’t,” You say, not really know how else to explain it. “But nothing could make me hate you.”
“But you hate alphas, don’t you? You’re uncomfortable with me now. We can’t be close anymore, right?”
You don’t say anything to that. You want to deny it. You want to tell him nothing could make you want to stop being his friend.
But then, you remember that Bachira is destined for unimaginable greatness. Bright like the sun and even more interesting, more talented, more cool than you could ever be. He’s an alpha to boot. You think of the future of your life and how you’ve always pictured it to be quiet and functional, because that’s who you’ve always been. Bachira is—was a star crash landing in your life, anyhow. You think of all of that, along with everything else - and all the ways you’ve betrayed him unintentionally.
You’ve used up all of your luck. Inevitably. Eventually, it was always going to end with a gradually forming distance. You knew that before he left just like you know it now. And nows as good a time as any to put it to rest.
“Meguru,” He’s your first friend. You’re sure that’s why he’s so shaken up. Distance would be better. “You have to focus on becoming the best in the world, right? I’ll uh,” You try to breathe. “I’ll be watching from a distance no matter what,”
“Please don’t leave me,” He whimpers. You wince.
“It’s not like that. There’s a lot of people who are beside you now.” You say warily, trying to comfort him. If you were a more selfish person, you would want to be friends. You love Bachira. You’ve loved him your entire life. You probably always will. But you think if he’s had to keep this secret from you so long - you don’t deserve any of that. “It’s fine. You’ll be fine,”
Without me. You’ll be fine without me. You want to tell him that, but can’t bring yourself to say it.
You won’t be, you don’t think. Not for a while. But this is the least you can do for your relationship. For your best friend who you haven’t paid enough attention too.
“I’ll stay with you until you stop crying,” You offer. “And when your eyes aren’t red, we can both just go home. Okay?”
Bachira sniffles on the other side of the door and doesn’t reply.
__
[ EIGHTEEN ]
On your eighteenth birthday, Bachira’s mom calls you at midnight.
Yu-san is like a third parent to you, so you pick regardless for the reason she calls. She sounds relieved when you answer despite the sleep in your voice. You’re up late studying for your driving license exam which you’ll finally be eligible to take starting now.
“Ah. Hello?”
“Hey, kid. Thanks for picking my call,” She sounds like she’s doing something. It’s a Sunday so she’s probably painting. “Don’t sound too confused. I just called to wish you happy birthday. Meguru always called you at midnight, didn’t he?”
You look down at the papers on your desk, twirling pen in fingers. “Yeah, he did.”
“You two still aren’t talking, right? But knowing Meguru, he’ll feel sad later on when he realizes he didn’t wish you because he was upset,” She hums, nonplussed. You smile a little. Yu-san is just like that, you think. Even after being aware of you and Bachira’s fights, the way she’s treated you hasn’t changed. “So I thought I’d do in his place.”
“It’s alright, Yu-san. But thank you,”
“Of course,” She says. You hear the faucet running and the familiar clicking of paint brushes on the other side of the line. “Come over when you have some time. I brought ingredients for your favorite. We can go pick up a cake together, too. I bet you’re too busy studying and forgot to make plans, right?”
You flush. “…I did.”
She laughs good-naturedly. “Right? I thought so. I know it’s just you in the house, but feel free to invite Sasaki and Miki-chan, alright? And don’t stay up too late studying.”
You feel tears well up in the corners of your eyes. “Thank you for always taking care of me, Yu-obasan,”
“Oh, don’t be silly. That’s a given right?”
“Right,” You sniffle. “But still, thanks.”
“Of course. Oh! And, happy birthday.”
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#bachira x reader#bluelock x reader#bachira smut#bluelock smut#writing tag#fics for gaza#bllk x reader#bachira meguru x reader#omegaverse cw
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Hey there!
This month felt endless, am I right? Can’t believe it’s finally over.
This is a list of all the fics I read in January, I started writing it at the beginning of the month so they are in chronological order based on when I read them.
There’s a lot of stories but I still feel like I haven’t read enough lol
I loved every single work on this list so I highly recommend for you to read them and give some love to authors! They’re unbelievably talented and bring so much joy to this fandom, someone even in my life but this is another story.
I put the link to the Masterlist for series, so you can see all the chapters, some of them are ongoing and some are finished.
Please mind the tags and warnings to make sure a story doesn’t trigger you and makes you uncomfortable, I’m not responsible for what you choose to read, only you are.
Happy reading!
❋ Consume - @sunshineispunk
Stepdad!Joel x reader , DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT
❋ Liquid Gold - @gasolinerainbowpuddles
Joel Miller x f pregnant!reader x Tommy Miller
You are super pregnant and currently miserable after a third trimester issue crops up. You don’t know how to fix it, and Joel is determined to make you comfortable again. Will he come up with the right solution or are you going to spend the last few weeks of your pregnancy in awful pain? (Lactat!on kink)
❋ The First Time - @fettuccin-e
Frankie Morales x afab!reader
Size kink
❋ Mouthful - @pedgito
Joel miller x reader
Joel finds the perfect way to keep you quiet while he showers you with compliments.
❋ Holiday Heat - @baronessvonglitter
Joel Miller x f!reader
Only one bed trope, grumpy x sunshine, age gap, strangers to lovers
Sharing a hotel room with a grumpy (and handsome) stranger while a storm makes travel inaccessible. What could possibly go wrong?
❋ The Warden - @arcanefox207
Joel Miller x f!reader - DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT
Your hike into the woods doesn’t go as planned when a depraved Game Warden catches you breaking the rules.
❋ Quicksand - @javier-pena
Pedro's unnamed character in Materialists x f!reader
You meet a stranger at a party
❋ Borrowed Time - @aurorawritestoescape
Joel Miller x f!reader
Joel and you are enjoying an ideal vacation together. Warm ocean, white sand, soft kisses, and hot sex make it feel like paradise. But as your time here is running out, the thoughts that you‘ve been trying to keep at bay start eating at your soul.
❋ After hours - @mssalo
Sub!Joel x Dom f!reader
❋ Wandering Hands - @gothcsz
Javier Peña x f!reader
Javi can't keep his hands off you during a dinner with some friends.
❋ Strangers - @joelmillerisapunk
Stripper!Javier Peña x f!reader
you meet a sexy stripper at your bestie's bachelorette party and he tries his absolute hardest to get your number
❋ Law of Attraction - @baronessvonglitter (Series Masterlist link)
Dave York x f!reader - Romcom AU
Dealing with emotions is difficult when you and Dave realize how you really feel about each other. When a night in turns sour, you seek help from an unexpected source.
❋ Easy - @slowdivinqs
Joel Miller x f!reader
waking Joel up in the best way possible.
❋ Bad blood - @aurorawritestoescape (Series Masterlist link)
you want your stepdad and your step uncle offers to help
step uncle Joel Miller x f!reader x stepdad Tommy Miller
❋ Never have I ever - @wannab-urs
Dieter Bravo x afab!reader
You and Dieter play never have I ever and it gets spicy.
❋ My paramour, my evermore - A Joel Miller Story - @schnarfer (Knights and Kings AU)
Joel Miller x f!reader
Joel Miller is the loss of your life
❋ Let's Go - @thundermartini DBF!Joel x f!reader
you decide to channel your inner party girl on this Friday night. But things won’t go as planned. You’ll get even more from this night than a dance in a club and free drinks from strangers. (Or, I just wanted a pretext to imagine bouncer!joel railing me in the back room of a club.
❋ Yes ma’am - @sizzlingcloudmentality
Dave York x dominatrix!reader
life goes sideways and Dave is close to snapping. he needs professional help. aka let himself be dominated and be at the receiving end for once. good thing he has your number.
❋ Untitled - @aurorawritestoescape
Joel’s twin x f!reader || 500 words
❋ Girl Dinner - @slimybeth69 Dead dove do not eat (Series Masterlist link)
Joel Miller x f!reader
After the civilized world you once knew came to an end-- the men that survived... well they just take, take, take. Growing tired of having things taken from you-- you have a hankerin' to take somethin' for yourself... and make him perfect.
❋ Foxglove Downs - @whocaresstillthelouvre (Series Masterlist link)
Marcus Acacius x f!reader x Lucius Verus
In the exclusive realm of elite show jumping, where wealth stretches as far as the polished estates, Marcus Acacius and Lucius Verus are locked in a fierce competition that reaches far beyond the arena.
❋ No strings to hold me down - @baronessvonglitter
fwb!Joel Miller x f!Reader
Enjoying the freedom of being friends with benefits with Joel Miller, a new emotion flares when you see him out with someone much younger.
❋ What’s a Tomdaya? - @604to647
Modern!Pero Tovar x fem!reader
Pero regrets getting into a group chat with your friends
❋ Prisoner - @almostempty
f!reader x Din Djarin
this time our fav bounty hunter is the bounty and you're on a mission to capture him and claim your reward
❋ Final part of the neighbor series - Masterlist - @gothcsz
Javier Peña x f!reader
❋ All the good girls go to hell - Masterlist - @aurorawritestoescape
Stepdad!Joel Miller x f!reader
you can't stop thinking about your stepdad so you do something risky to have a little more of him. But Joel is not the "little more" kind of guy.
❋ Close-up - @milla-frenchy
Joel Miller x f!reader
Joel receives a script that takes him back to the memories of your love story. He realizes that out of protective instinct after the break up, he has not been honest neither with his own feelings nor with you
❋ El cumpleañero - @gothcsz
Javier Peña x f!reader
It's Javier's birthday, so you show up to his party and things get fun.
❋ Reincarnated - @joelmillerisapunk
Joel Miller x f!reader
A late-night text from an unknown number stirs up memories you thought you’d buried. It’s been years since Joel walked out of your life, but now he’s back. Old wounds resurface, boundaries blur, and the question lingers: is this a second chance or just another heartbreak waiting to happen?
❋ Leather and Lace - @probablyreadinsmut
Javier Peña x f!reader
Javier Peña is back in Loredo after retiring from the DEA. He's horny and looking for something new. That's when he finds you.
❋(Un)faithful - @probablyreadinsmut
Rbf!Javier x Married!Reader
Your marriage is lackluster, your sex life even more so. When your best friend Javier finds out, lines are crossed and lives are changed forever.
❋ some thoughts on hbf (husband's best friend) joel @baronessvonglitter / Drabble
❋ BDSMaid - @mountainsandmayhem (Series Masterlist link)
After recently graduating from university, your best friend offers you a job cleaning luxury homes for clients you’ll never know. It’s only temporary and a good way to save money for when you go back to get your law degree. That’s what you’re promised at least. Easy. Simple. Mundane. That is, until one of your clients is home and everything that you felt was missing in your life starts to fall into place. This goes against the NDA you signed and you could get fired. Or worse, you could fall in love.
#V Jan recs#pedro pascal#pedro pascal characters#ppcu#ppcu fanfiction#ppcu fics#ppcu fandom#joel miller#dave york#dieter bravo#pero tovar#marcus acacius#frankie morales#javier peña#lucius verus#din djarin
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Forbidden Reunion
Summary : You managed to escape from Loki after discovering his lies. Aware that both he and the TVA would be searching for you, you prayed they wouldn't succeed. However, now Loki stood in front of you and he had no intentions of letting you go.
Pairing : Loki Laufeyson x f!Reader
General tags : SMUT, 18+, Dark Fic, Obsessive, Yandere
Trigger Warnings: Strong Language, Violence, Stalking, Non-con, Dubious Consent, Forced Blowjob, Forced Orgasm, Fingering, P in V, Unprotected Sex, Breeding, Overstimulation (let me know if I missed any lol)
Word Count: 10k
A/N : Sorry it took me too long to post this, juggling this alongside my other story took some time. But as promised, I'm releasing this one first.
Before you continue, please read TW again. This is a dark!fic and explicit, strictly for readers 18+. Please, DO NOT PROCEED if these themes disturb you. I've warned you, this fic isn't for the faint-hearted.
This took in Loki season 2 based on that shadow play.
If you like my story, please go check out my other stories here
Exhausted from years of evading both Loki and the TVA. Tonight, you found yourself in a bar, a moment to escape the chaos for years and hoping for a chance encounter. Despite your past with Loki, you were eager to move forward and explore new relationships, you have your own needs, and the more time went on, you knew they could not be sated by yourself anymore.
You could use your power to manipulate them into sleeping with you, but you knew it was wrong, you were sure there was a natural progression you just needed to be patient, and maybe your powers were going to waste being used to keep you hidden from the TVA.
Your mind drifted back to Loki, the god of Mischief and how he lied to you, manipulated you.
Flashback
"I'm sorry to say this, but you have been deceived by him," the TVA agent asserted. You turned your back on her as you attempted to escape, your eyes scanning the surroundings for any sign of Loki. You had become separated during the chaotic chase within the TVA headquarters.
"No, I'm not. Loki wouldn't lie to me," you defended him, your voice laced with unwavering belief.
"Is he? Tell me, what did he say to you, the reason he got caught?" the agent probed, her tone challenging.
"He tried to rule Earth and failed," you replied, recalling the events that had led to his capture.
She seemed surprised that you knew. "Yes, and whose fault was that?" she pressed further.
“Yes, I know it was his.” You admitted, frustration seeping into your words, “But it stemmed from his deep-seated need for approval and love, especially from a father who resented him for being adopted." Despite the firmness in your tone, a flicker of doubt shadowed your eyes, making you question whether you were convincing the agent or merely grappling with your own uncertainties.
"Is that the whole story? Or just a part he wants you to believe?" Her words hung heavy in the air.
"He's the trickster god, the silvertongue," she continued, her voice steady, unwavering. "Manipulation is in his nature. Don't fall for his lies."
"Hello? Hey?" You heard a voice bringing you back from your daydream. "Can I buy you a drink?"
You looked up, it was a handsome man who had sat down beside you. You smiled, not wanting to appear rude. "Yes, please," you said.
He smiled, "I'm Mark."
"Y/N," you said.
"Nice to meet you, Y/N," he smiled.
You returned his smile. You enjoyed his company as you chatted and laughed, his eyes sparkled as he listened to you talk, you knew you were making him blush when you teased him, he was sweet, and you knew he liked you.
Conversation flowed easily between you two. You couldn't remember the last time you felt so at ease with a stranger, the feeling was new and exciting. He seemed so genuinely interested in what you had to say and you felt as if he actually understood what was going on in your life.
"Do you want to come to my place? I've got a bottle of whiskey that needs drinking," he smiled.
"Sure, why not?" you said, downing the rest of your drink. This was your chance to get what you've been craving, and what better way to start than with a handsome man inviting you to his place?
Then someone spilled his drink onto Mark, ruining his white shirt.
"What the hell? Are you kidding me?!" he yelled at the man. "Watch where you're going, asshole." He shouted in frustration.
"Oh, I am so sorry, man, I tripped," the other man said, his voice calmed.
You recognize the voice.
It was Mobius.
Your heart raced, and you couldn't believe that he had managed to track you down. Paralyzed with fear, you sat there, feeling the color drain from your face as you stared at him in disbelief. If Mobius was here then that meant that Loki wasn't far behind.
Mark was fuming, he stormed off to the bathroom, leaving you alone, and you wanted desperately to call out, to warn him not to leave you by yourself, but fear kept your words trapped in your throat.
"Hello, Y/N."
Your name was like poison on his lips.
"Loki," you hissed back, turning around to face him.
He looked exactly the same as the last time you'd seen him, his black hair was neatly styled, his green eyes were piercing, and his face was pale. His expression was serious, his jaw set and his eyes cold, he looked so different from the Loki you had known and fallen in love with.
"What the fuck are you two doing here?" Your heart pounded in your chest, your palms sweaty with anxiety, and you were suddenly very aware of how alone you were in the bar.
"I missed you, pet. I have been worried," his tone was mocking and his smirk didn't reach his eyes.
"Don't lie, Loki," you shot back, glaring at him.
"You know, you've always been so difficult."
"And you're an asshole."
Loki didn't say anything, instead he reached for your wrist and held it tight. "Let me go! You fucking liar, I trusted you, I loved you, and you betrayed me," you shouted, struggling against his grip.
"Little one, don't make a scene." he growled in your ear.
Your eyes pleaded with Mobius, who stood caught between the two of you. "Are you just going to stand there and let this happen?" you implored, your voice cracking with desperation.
Mobius sighed, a mixture of resignation and sadness in his eyes. "I'll leave you be for now then," he said, his tone heavy with regret. "I'll see you later." With that, he turned away, leaving you to face Loki's wrath alone.
"How about I give you a choice," he said, a sinister glint in his eyes. "Either you can come home willingly, or I can use my magic to knock you out and bring you home. Which do you prefer?" The weight of his words hung heavy in the air, leaving you trapped in a lose-lose situation.
"I'm not going anywhere with you, Loki!" you hissed, your voice laced with defiance as you struggled against his grip. Every fiber of your being screamed resistance, but you knew the sheer force of his magic could easily overpower you.
"Very well then," he purred, his lips twisted into a sadistic smile as he waived his hand, ready to use his magic.
"Wait!" You blurted, holding up your hands to stop him, your voice trembled as the weight of your decision bore down upon you.
"Yes, little one?" he asked, his tone condescending and smug.
"I'll come willingly," you said, the words tasting bitter on your tongue. It was a lie, a desperate attempt to buy some time.
"But can I go to the bathroom first?" You clung to the hope that a brief moment alone might offer a chance, your mind racing for an escape plan.
"Alright," Loki agreed, his tone oddly accommodating. "Go on, pet." He nodded towards the restroom.
You hurried into the bathroom and locked the door behind you, your heart pounding in your chest. Your frantic eyes searched for your tempad, only to realize it was gone. "Asshole!" you muttered under your breath, realizing that Loki must have taken it when he grabbed your arm.
You had no escape plan, and Loki was waiting for you. You looked for a way out, but the windows were too small for you to climb through, so you thought it would be best to just run through the door and run far away from the bar.
Gathering your courage, you unlocked the door and burst out, your footsteps echoing in the corridor. Behind you, you could hear Loki's enraged shout, "Y/N!" His voice boomed, fueling your determination to run as far and as fast as you could from the bar.
"Y/N! Y/N!" you could hear him getting closer and closer. His voice cut through the air like a sharp blade. "Y/N, stop now!"
"FUCK OFF!" you screamed, frustration and fear fueling your voice. You cast a desperate glance behind you and saw Loki hot on your heels. "Fuck!" you whispered under your breath.
You could feel the tears burning behind your eyes, the adrenaline coursing through your veins, and the fear of being caught was overwhelming. "Fuck, no! Not again!" you thought.
You were annoyed by the people "Move! Move! Please!" You screamed at the people that were blocking the road, but they wouldn't move.
"Fuck you!" One guy shouted back at you after you pushed him away.
You couldn't run anymore. You were too slow, and he was gaining on you, and you knew that you couldn't escape him. But you need to keep trying, you couldn't give up. You were running, and running, and running.
The pain was too much, your muscles ached, and your lungs burned. Your vision was blurred, and you couldn't focus. You were tired of running and out of breath, you leaned against a wall and rested, hoping Loki wouldn't see you.
However, your respite was short-lived. In a blink, Loki teleported right in front of you, his expression oddly calm. "Pet, we have been searching for you for a long time, you hid well." He said, his tone icy.
"You can't be fucking serious!" you hissed, "Why did you look for me? I left for a reason, you betrayed my trust. You used me, and I hate you."
"Little one, why are you angry at me?"
"Are you really asking that, you lying snake?" Pushing him away, you shouted, and sprinted away from him once more, your determination fueling your escape.
You didn't make it far, though, before you felt a familiar, freezing hand grasp your arm, tugging you backward and pulling you against a cold, solid form.
"I don't appreciate it you calling me that."
You gasped, and tried to pull away from him, but his grip was like steel, and no matter how hard you struggled, you couldn't free yourself from him. "I don't care! Let me go!"
He ignored your pleas, then you pulled out a knife from your pocket. You knew he could've easily taken the knife, but instead he let you go, "You think you can hurt me, little one? How adorable." he cooed, his voice silky smooth.
"I'll fucking kill you!"
He laughed again mocking you, "Do you want to try? Do you think you can stab me with that knife, pet?"
You didn't answer, instead you held the knife up, threatening him, "Loki, you don't want to make me angry." You knew that was stupid of you saying that.
He smirked, he wasn't afraid of you, and he wasn't intimidated by you. "You are so cute when you are mad," he mocked, his voice dripping with sarcasm, and his eyes were dark.
"Put the knife down, and we can go home, pet" he offered.
"Fuck you, Loki," you spat, your voice dripping with venom as you stood your ground, the knife still clutched tightly in your hand.
He grinned, "Oh, you will soon enough, pet." He let out a low chuckle and he snapped his finger and the knife flew from your hand to the wall. You watched in horror, you didn’t have anything else on you to defend yourself from him.
He began to advance toward you, a predator toying with his prey. Panic surged through you, urging you to flee. Yet, no matter how fast you ran, Loki always reappeared before you.
His voice dripped with amusement, "Come on, pet. Do you really think you can outrun me?" His grin widened, relishing the chase as if it were sort of a game to him.
"You won't ever escape me, pet. Even if you manage to get away from me, I will always find you again and again. You will be mine, whether you want to or not." He declared, his tone possessive and chilling. He stood before you, his presence looming over you like a dark cloud.
"I won't stop fighting you," you vowed, your voice filled with defiance, glaring at him as he advanced toward you. Desperation fueled your steps as you ran, but he always caught up to you, teleporting right in front of you, a relentless pursuit that seemed endless.
"You can't run forever, pet," he taunted, his eyes dark and menacing, his voice deep and husky. “Eventually, I’ll catch up to you.”
You were getting tired of running. "Come on, pet. Are we playing a game?" He chuckled, the sound echoing eerily through the empty street. The bastard was enjoying this twisted cat-and-mouse chase.
"Just stop!" you cried out, your frustration boiling over.
"Why would I stop? This is the most fun I've had in years, darling. I enjoy seeing you run, it's quite entertaining."
"Shut up." You tried to run away again, your breaths ragged. "Quit your magic, and fight fair!" Deep down, you knew if you were in a one-on-one combat with him, without his magic, you could win. "If you win, I'll come willingly."
"That's not how this works, little one," he chided, his tone laced with amusement.
You felt the anger boiling inside of you, but you continued to run. Each step echoed in the empty alley as you tried to escape his relentless pursuit. "Leave me alone then!" you shouted, desperation lacing your voice.
To your horror, your movements came to an abrupt stop. Loki stood in front of you, his mischievous grin sending shivers down your spine. Frantically, you turned around, only to find him there again, mocking your attempts to escape. Panic set in as you attempted to flee in the opposite direction, but there he was once more, his presence haunting you like a nightmare.
"What the fuck is going on?" you muttered, disbelief coloring your voice. How was he everywhere? How was he doing this? Your mind raced with questions as you stepped back, trying to distance yourself from the three identical Loki that surrounded you.
Were you tripping, or is there really three of them?
Loki's chuckle reverberated around you, a haunting sound that sent chills down your spine. Frustration boiled within you, and you screamed in exasperation, "How are you doing that?" Your voice wavered, trembling with a mixture of frustration and fear as you desperately demanded answers.
His grin widened as he continued to toy with your sanity. "Oh, come now, surely you know a trick or two, you being a witch and all," he taunted, the words laced with mocking arrogance.
You took slow steps backward as the three Loki remained in front of you, your resolve mingling with confusion and growing fear. "I'm not a witch, you... asshole," you retorted.
Suddenly, you felt his warm breath near your ear, and his voice sent a shiver down your spine. "It's called an illusion, little one," he whispered, the hot air tickling your earlobe. You jolted away from him, only to find another Loki standing in front of you, and you jumped yet again.
Fear gripped you, not of him, but of the overwhelming confusion and frustration that clouded your senses. The relentless onslaught of illusions left you feeling disoriented, unable to discern reality from the intricate tricks he was playing.
"Please stop," you pleaded.
"Stop what?" he asked, feigning innocence, his eyes glinting mischievously.
"Your tricks. I'm not stupid, stop," you demanded, your voice growing firmer despite the fear gripping your heart.
The three Loki slowly closed in on you, each step they took making your heart race faster. You retreated, trying to create distance, but soon your back met the unyielding wall. There was no escape. Your mind raced, your heart pounded, and you breathed heavily, trapped in a nightmare of your own making.
Suddenly, you felt an invisible force restraining your hands, pinning them against the wall. You looked around frantically, searching for the source, but there was no one in sight. Panic clawed at your throat as you realized you were immobilized.
"What the fuck are you doing?! Let me go."
"I don't think I will, my little pet," Loki said, his eyes gleaming with amusement.
Suddenly, Mobius reappeared beside Loki, seemingly out of thin air. "A little over the top, don’t you think, all the shadow play?" he commented, his tone disapproving.
Loki smirked, unrepentant. "I thought it was spot on."
Mobius turned his attention to you, his expression filled with concern. "What are you trying to do to the poor girl?" he asked.
"I'm merely making a point," Loki replied casually, as if discussing the weather and your distress was nothing more than a game.
Mobius shook his head and lightly chuckled, "Oh, I'm sure you are. That's why she looks like a frightened rabbit."
"I'm still here? Hello?” They were casually talking like you were invincible, despite being bound to a wall. Their attention shifted to you, and you erupted, "Mobius, what the hell? Arrest him! What are you doing!" Panic and anger laced your words, but it fell on deaf ears.
"Sorry, sweetheart, I can't do that. I made a deal with Loki," Mobius responded, his tone regretful yet resolute.
You felt a chill run down your spine. "What fucking deal?" You asked, your voice trembling. "What are you going to do with me?"
"I'm not going to do anything. But Loki, on the other hand..." he chuckled darkly. "Well, the deal is, we only need you alive. That's all I'm saying. My lips are sealed," Mobius replied with a cryptic smile.
You didn't have a chance to process his words before the Loki closest to you began circling you, a predatory gleam in his eyes. Your heartbeat wildly, fear coursing through your veins as he trailed his finger along your arm, his touch light and teasing in suspense.
"What the fuck is the matter with you, let me go!" you shrieked, your panic and anger rising. "Mobius you fucking bitch, you are nothing but a- MMM" abruptly, as the shadow silenced you, turning your pleas into incoherent whispers.
Mobius sighed, shaking his head. "Now you're just showing off," he admonished.
"I can't help it, you bring out the worst in me."
Loki stepped in front of you and leaned in close, his lips brushing against your ear. "Now, where were we?" he whispered, his voice low and seductive. His fingers trailed along your jaw, his touch feather-light and tantalizing. You were struggling to break free from his hold, but your body remained paralyzed, at his mercy.
Loki, leaning casually against the wall, let out a low, amused chuckle at your futile struggles. "Oh, little one," he purred, his tone mocking and condescending. "There's no use in fighting. You won't be able to break free. Trust me."
"Now, be a good girl and remain still," Loki said, his smile cruel and unsettling as he locked eyes with you, a twisted affection glinting in his gaze.
"Loki, take it easy on her. She's just a young girl, after all." Mobius interjected, his voice laced with a hint of compassion, though his eyes conveyed a different story. "Make sure to control your pet, Loki.” Mobius emphasized before vanishing into thin air.
You screamed was incoherent since your mouth was being covered by the shadow, you tried to say "Help!" and "No" but nothing came out.
Loki grabbed a fistful of your hair, forcing your head up to meet his gaze. "Oh, darling. Don't try to speak, or scream, or fight. You can't escape, and no one is going to save you. No one will hear you, the only sound you will make is your moans."
Fear gripped you, the uncertainty of Loki's intentions leaving you paralyzed and vulnerable.
He advanced toward you, his steps deliberate and predatory. "Now," he whispered, his voice dripping with sadistic anticipation, "let the fun begin, pet."
With a snap of his fingers, Loki dispelled the shadow covering your mouth, granting you the ability to speak again. "Get off me, Laufeyson!" you exclaimed, your voice laced with defiance. You strained against your restraints, desperate to escape his grasp. "This is wrong. You're crazy psychopath."
"Oh, pet," he said, a twisted smile playing on his lips. "We've done far worse together."
Frustration and fear gripped you as you struggled against your bindings, pleading, " Why can't you just leave me alone?"
A dark chuckle escaped Loki's lips as he replied, "You know why."
"Please, just let me go." You pleaded, desperation creeping into your voice.
Loki's smirk deepened, his eyes glinting with possessiveness. "I'm afraid I can't do that, love. You belong to me."
"No, I don't! I'm not yours," you protested vehemently. You writhed against the magical restraints, a mixture of anger and fear fueling your struggles. His control over you felt like a violation, and you despised him for it, for using his magic against you in such a cruel manner.
"Oh, pet," Loki purred, his voice dripping with both mockery and desire. "You can fight all you want, but you'll never win, not when it comes to me." He leaned in, his lips grazing your neck in a chilling caress. You whimpered as he sucked on your skin, his teeth scraping lightly.
"Stop. Please," you begged, your voice trembling.
"But why would I stop," he replied, his tone silkier than ever, "when I'm having so much fun?" His words hung in the air, laden with sadistic pleasure.
"I hate you. I will never stop hating you," you spat out, your words laced with a fierce determination, even in the face of your vulnerability.
Loki's lips curled into a sly smile, "You don't truly hate me, little one. You merely pretend to. I see through the façade. I know what lies beneath."
"What the hell are you talking about, Loki?" you shot back.
"Stop being such a brat," he sneered. The shadow binding both your wrists kept you firmly against the wall, his control unyielding. "Do you like being restrained, hmm? Enjoy the feeling of someone else in control, knowing you can't escape, and no one will help you?" His face hovered dangerously close to yours, his breath ghosting over your skin.
“No! Stop that nonsense!” You lied, you were scared, and angry, but you also secretly enjoyed being under his control whether you wanted to admit it or not.
He hummed and kissed your neck and whispered in your ear, his breath tickled your ear and you felt shivers down your spine. “Fuck, how I miss you.” His voice was deep and commanding, sending tingles of pleasure throughout your body.
"Please, stop. Just leave me alone. Don't do this to me, please."
"Oh, little one. You know I can't do that." He said as his hands roamed all over your body, caressing every inch of you, making you feel so vulnerable. You felt the heat rise between your legs and your heart raced faster.
"I can smell your arousal, pet.” He lightly bit your neck. “Your body betrays you. It craves my touch, just as much as you do," he said, his voice laced with a sinister confidence. "You want me, even if you refuse to admit it."
You met his gaze with defiance, attempting to deny the truth he claimed. "You're delusional," you retorted, your words aimed at rejecting his manipulative influence.
"Am I?" Loki's eyes bore into yours, a predatory glint flickering in their depths. "Your heart, your mind, your body—they all long for me, even if you deny it. You can't escape this, no matter how hard you try. I will always find you, even if I have to tear the universe apart to get you back."
Loki was right. Your body was betraying you. The wetness was getting more intense by the minute, you could feel the pleasure building up, but you couldn't let yourself fall into temptation, he had hurt you, lied to you, manipulated you, used you, and now he was going to take you against your will.
You had to fight him.
You had to escape him.
You couldn't let him take you.
Not like this.
But you wanted more, and you knew that Loki would give you everything you wanted and more. You could feel the pleasure building up. You moaned softly as his hands roamed over your breasts. You felt a rush of anger, "What are you doing? You're using your magic to seduce me, aren't you?"
He met your accusation with a knowing grin. "I don't need magic to seduce you.” He countered, “Your body responds to me naturally, so beautifully. It's like a drug, and once I've had a taste, I'm hooked. I can't get enough of you."
You felt his lips on your neck. His kisses were soft and tender. You gasped as his tongue licked your neck, trailing down your collarbone. You couldn't stop the moan that escaped your lips as his fingers pinched your nipple.
You felt he smirked and you tried not to moan, biting your lip, trying not to give him the satisfaction of knowing he was affecting you. But he could read your mind, and he could hear your thoughts, and he knew what you were feeling. He was inside your head.
"Just stop."
"Not until I'm finished with you. Not until you're begging for more. Begging for my cock inside of you. Begging for me." He slammed your back against the wall, and you yelped as you hit it hard.
He had you caged, and your legs were starting to tremble. You didn't know if it was from the force or the intensity of his words. You tried to push him away but he was stronger than you. His body was pressed against yours. He then kissed you deeply, his tongue exploring your mouth. You couldn't breathe, couldn't think, couldn't do anything but feel his body against yours.
He was a good kisser, and he knew what he was doing. You were moaning into the kiss, and you were fighting to keep control. Then you felt his cock growing hard. You gasped and that was when you realized what was going on. In a desperate act of defiance, you bit down hard, drawing blood. You tasted it.
He pulled back momentarily caught off guard. He looked like a maniac, and you had to remind yourself not to be afraid of him. His lips curled into a sinister grin as he wiped the blood away with his fingers, his eyes never leaving yours. "I like that," he said, his voice low and dark, his grin widening.
You stared at him, and you felt your eyes widen in shock. You felt your heart race. You were still struggling against him, and you tried to pull your hand free from his restraints, but it was useless.
"Oh, pet," he sneered, his tone laced with malice. "I'll make you pay for that defiance."
"What are you planning? Torture me?" you challenged back.
"Torture is such a crude term," he replied, his words dripping with sadistic pleasure. "I prefer 'punish'. After all, you've been a naughty girl. And naughty girls must be disciplined."
Your eyes narrowed, a fierce glare aimed his way. "You can't do anything to break me. You can't force me to feel anything. You have no control over me."
He laughed, "Is that so? You know nothing about me, love. Nothing. If I had my way, I would've taken you to my bed, and kept you there, tied up, blindfolded, gagged, naked, helpless, at my mercy. But I can't do that, yet. However, that doesn't mean I can't have fun."
"You're insane. I despise you," you retorted, your words heavy with hatred.
"That's fine," he replied, his tone oddly calm. "I'm used to people hating me. It's just a matter of time before they change their minds. And I'll have you. One way or another, you're mine."
"Go to hell."
"Only if you come with me."
You felt a chill run down your spine, and you couldn't help but shiver. You couldn't stop thinking about the things he had said. About how you were his. You tried to shake the thoughts away, but they were persistent.
You accidentally clenched your pussy at his words, you hoped he didn't notice.
He chuckled, the sound sending chills down your spine. "Oh, pet, that's adorable," he taunted, his grin widening with malicious amusement. "Do you like the thought of that, pet?" Loki's eyes glittered with dark intent, sensing the conflict within you, and it only served to fuel his sadistic amusement.
"No!" You denied.
"Then why did you clench your pussy, hmm? Was it because you were imagining me taking you?"
"It was just a reflex," you stammered, attempting to deny the undeniable truth.
"Is that so?" he murmured, his voice a dark, taunting whisper. His smirk widened, and he moved his face closer to yours until there were mere inches between your lips. "You're lying, love."
"I won't let you slip away again," he whispered, his fingers tightening around your throat, making each breath a struggle. His eyes bore into yours. "I will make you mine."
He tightened his grip around your throat and slammed your back against the wall, your head hit the wall with a loud thud. You couldn't breathe. The pain was unbearable. Tears began streaming down your face as you struggled to breathe.
But this was making you turned on, despite how much you hated Loki, you couldn't deny that he was hot and the way he was being rough with you was making your pussy throb.
"You'll see. It's time to begin your training, pet." He whispered as his hands travelled lower, caressing your inner thigh. "Please, Loki."
"Shhh, shh." He pressed his finger against your lips, "Save your begging."
“Fuck you!”
He raised his eyebrows and smirked, "I would love to do that right now, but I think we should save it for later."
"You bastard!" you spat, your anger seething.
"Watch your language, pet," he sneered, his grip tightening as he grabbed your chin, his fingers digging into your jaw. "Now, be a good girl and open your mouth." He took a piece of cloth out of his pocket. It was green.
"Hell No! I won't do it. I won't cooperate." You retorted, like who in the world would agree to that?
He sighed. "You know, you really are a stubborn little thing. It's adorable. But, it won't get you anywhere. In fact, it'll just make things worse."
You stared at him. You couldn't believe what was happening. How could he be so cruel? So evil? He chuckled. "I told you. You're not in control here. I am. Now, open your mouth."
“Never.”
"Fine. Then I'll do it for you." He used his magic to force open your mouth, his magic was painful, and it burned. You could barely move. He put the cloth in your mouth and tied it around your head. You tried to scream but couldn't.
"So pretty," he said as he stroked your cheek. "You should be grateful that I'm even letting you use this, instead of forcing you to be silent. And remember, the gag stays on unless I say otherwise. Understand?"
You shook your head mumbling, "Mmff, no."
"That's too bad," he mused, his voice dripping with sadistic amusement. "Because if you try to remove the gag, I'll have to punish you. And you don't want that, do you?"
"Nnooo, I don't," you mumbled, your voice barely audible through the gag.
"Good girl," he purred. "You'll get used to it."
With a swift motion, he removed the shadow restraints from your arms, and you immediately attempted to fight back, you tried to hit him, but he easily dodged your blow. His grip iron-strong when he caught your hand. "Careful, pet," he cautioned, his voice a dangerous whisper. "My patience wears thin."
Using his powers, he summoned the shadow to immobilize you once more, pinning you against the wall, this time including your legs. You were rendered utterly helpless, trapped in his web of darkness.
"Now, let's begin," he said, his voice oozing with menace. You remained tied up, gagged, and entirely at his merciless mercy.
He took out a dagger from his belt and cut through your shirt and bra, leaving you exposed. "Oh my, that's a nice sight."
You let out a muffled scream, "You don't need clothes. They will only get in the way."
He began kissing your neck and sucking on your skin. "Mmf," You moaned softly as his lips trailed down your collarbone, leaving a trail of kisses and bites. He cupped your breast and teased your nipple.
"Mmff No..."
He ignored your protests and continued to play with your nipples.
"You like that, don't you? I can feel how wet you are, darling." He whispered into your ear.
"Mmmff." You tried to deny, but he could hear your thoughts.
He smirked. "I bet if I put my fingers inside you right now, they'd slide right in. I bet you're dripping wet for me, aren't you, my sweet?"
"Mmf."
"You don't need to speak, little one," he whispered, his voice a low, seductive murmur that sent shivers down your spine. "Just relax. I know what you want."
His hand glided down your thigh, his touch sending electric sparks through your skin, until he slipped his fingers under the hem of your dress and traced the edge of your panties. "And it seems that your body agrees with me," he continued, "It's telling me that it's ready to submit to me."
You closed your eyes and tried to block him out. But he could hear your thoughts, and he knew what you were thinking.
"Come on, pet. Open your eyes and look at me. I want to see your beautiful eyes."
Reluctantly, you opened your eyes and found him staring at you, his gaze darkened with hunger and desire.
"There you go. Such a good girl." He praised you.
He slid your panties to the side and his fingers found your pussy, already dripping wet. "Oh, you're so wet, pet. Do you want me that much? Do you want me to fuck you, hmm?"
He slid your panties to the side and cupped your pussy. "Fuck," he muttered as his fingers slipped between your folds, "You're already dripping for me."
You blushed furiously as he rubbed your clit in slow, gentle circles.
"Yes," he said, his voice deepening, "Your body wants me. It wants me to take you and make you mine."
His finger pressed against your entrance and then pushed into you, making you gasp. He curled it and began to massage your G-spot. You bit your lip and moaned, trying not to make too much noise. You tried to squirm away from him, but it was no use.
You clenched your fists, struggling to hold back the moan threatening to escape your lips. A soft whimper escaped your lips, and the Loki behind you laughed softly. "No. You're not getting away from me."
You whimpered as he thrust another finger into you, stretching you even further. He began pumping his fingers in and out of your pussy, making you gasp and moan under the gagged cloth. His fingers worked their magic, sliding in and out of you, rubbing your G-spot with each stroke. He kept a steady rhythm, keeping you on the edge.
You could feel your walls tightening around his fingers, the sensation driving you mad. The Loki in front of you watched intently as he continued to pleasure you, his gaze filled with a mix of lust and amusement as you struggled to keep control. "Oh, little one," he said, "I love seeing you like this. So desperate. So needy. So fucking sexy." His other hand gripped your hips, keeping you in place.
"You're so wet," he murmured, "You're practically begging me to fuck you."
"Mmfff." You tried to ignore him, but he curled his fingers and stroked you just right, and your hips bucked involuntarily. You were quickly approaching your orgasm, and it was impossible to stop yourself from moaning loudly.
Loki leaned in and nipped at your neck, and you shivered as his breath caressed your skin. "But I won't. Not yet. First, I want to watch you come. I want to see your face when you orgasm. I want to hear the sounds you make when you come."
His fingers thrusting into your pussy, his thumb rubbing your clit. You were so close, and you knew that he could sense it. "Ah, yes. That's it. You're doing so well. Now, tell me... do you want to cum?" He pumped them faster, deeper.
You shook your head. You didn't want to come, you tried to resist, but you were too far gone. You felt the pressure building in your core, the pleasure was too much.
He leaned down and whispered in your ear, "Then let's see how long you can last."
He pumped his fingers faster and harder, making you moan and cry out. He thrust a third finger into your pussy and continued his assault on your clit. He was fucking you with his fingers, and you were so close. You could feel the heat rising in your belly, and you knew you couldn't hold it back any longer. You shook your head at him begging him not to make you come.
"Come on pet, don't fight it, just let it happen. Give into the pleasure. Come for me."
He pumped his fingers faster and harder, making you moan and cry out. "Yes, that's it," he whispered, "Just a little bit longer, you're so close."
He was relentless, his fingers working your pussy expertly. "Nnnn." You tried to tell him that you weren't going to let him win, but you couldn't speak.
You could feel the pleasure building and you knew that he could sense it. He kept pumping his fingers and rubbing your clit, and you couldn't hold back any longer. Your pussy was so wet, his fingers were sliding in and out so easily. You felt the orgasm approaching, the pressure was building, and you knew you couldn't hold it back any longer.
"You're going to come, whether you want to or not. So, don't fight it, just let it happen."
"Mmmmmm"
"Yes. You can't stop it. I'm going to make you come."
He continued to thrust his fingers, his thumb circling your clit, the pressure building until you could take it no more. He removed the gagged from your mouth, "Let me hear your moans, pet."
You let out a loud cry, unable to contain it. "That's it. You're so close, I can feel it.” Your back arched and you cried out, his fingers and thumb pushing you over the edge. "Come for me, my sweet. Come for me. Now." He curled his fingers inside you and bit your neck.
You screamed and bucked as the orgasm took you, and he didn't let up. He continued to pump his fingers and rub your clit, pushing you further and further until you couldn't take it anymore. You thrashed about as the pleasure was too much, your orgasm overwhelming your senses.
Your body writhing against his fingers. Your release was so intense that it made your whole body shudder. He held you tightly, his fingers still moving in and out of your pussy, drawing out your orgasm.
"There we go," he said, smiling down at you. "Such a good girl. You're such a good girl for me, pet."
You were a panting, sweating, mess, and you were exhausted.
He kissed your forehead and pulled his fingers out of you. You were glad the shadow was there restraining you or you would collapse.
After you came down from your high, you realized what just happened. You spat at him, "Fuck you, Loki. You're disgusting."
"Disgusting?" He raised his eyebrows. "Now, why would you say that, little one? Was it not good for you? You certainly seemed to enjoy yourself."
"Get the fuck away from me." you spat, your voice filled with venom.
He laughed, "You don't get to tell me what to do, little one. I'm not done with you yet."
"You fucking monster," you screamed, "I'm not going to let you touch me."
He grinned and grabbed your hair, pulling you towards him. "Watch your mouth, pet. I don't like hearing you use foul language. Now, since I was so kind to give you such a nice orgasm, will you be a good girl and obey me without any fuss?"
You rolled your eyes. "Like hell I will!"
He smirked in response. "Since I've been rather kind to you," Loki began, his eyes roaming over your body, "I have a proposition for you."
Though you had little desire to hear anything he had to say, your curiosity got the best of you, compelling you to reluctantly listen.
"Do you want me to fuck you here, right now in this alley, or in our room where we will be alone, and no one will interrupt us." He said with a smirk.
Your throat tightened, both options he presented were equally horrifying. But, the last thing you wanted was for someone to find you two here, like this. "Neither.” you choked out.
"That wasn't an option, my sweet."
You glared at him, "You're vile," you hissed
He raised an eyebrow, seemingly unaffected by your words. "You say the most hurtful things, pet."
"I'm not going to choose," you declared, "I'm not choosing anything. I'd rather die than have sex with you."
He looked amused. "Fine, then I will choose. You have a few seconds to think about it." He said as he took his jacket off, and dropped it to the ground.
"You're going to take me right here? You're an animal."
"It's your fault for refusing. If you choose the other option, I was going to be nice. I'll be rough if you insist."
"If you touch me, I'll kill you." You growled.
He laughed. "Oh, little one. It's not me you have to worry about."
Ignoring your warning, he reached forward, his touch cold against your skin, and ran his thumb along your lower lip. "Shame that I have to punish you. I'm sure you'll be a good girl after today."
You gritted your teeth and move your face away from his touch, "Don't touch me."
He ignored your demand, and began undoing his pants. He pulled his cock out, and started stroking it. You stared at his member and he was already rock hard. You hesitated, not wanting to touch him.
"Are you afraid, my sweet?"
You remained silent, refusing to dignify his question with a response.
He laughed, “There's no need to be scared. I won't hurt you. Unless you disobey me."
He moved closer, his proximity suffocating. With a swift, unwelcome touch, he reached out and stroked your cheek. Despite your best efforts, you couldn't help but flinch away from his caress.
"Relax, darling. This will be pleasurable for the both of us." He said as he grabbed his cock and ran it against your slit.
You felt your wetness seep onto his cock.
"STOP!" you screamed, your voice breaking the tense atmosphere, forcing him to halt his actions and look up at you.
He smiled at you. "Do you want me to stop, pet?"
You nodded frantically, desperation clouding your eyes. "Yes, I do."
"Tell me," he purred, his tone dripping with cruelty, "why should I stop?"
You scrambled for an excuse, your mind racing. "Let's do it in your place then," you stammered, your words rushed. "Please? I don't want anyone to see." Desperation clung to your voice as you pleaded, hoping against hope that he would agree to your request.
He raised his eyebrows. "Oh, pet. You know that won't work."
He pressed his cock against your pussy again.
You felt his tip slip inside you. "PLEASE! I'll be good, just please stop."
He smiled. "I like the sound of that."
He sighed, "Very well, little one." He swiftly pulled up his pants, adjusted his shirt, and retrieved his jacket, freeing you in the process. You winced as you flexed your arms, the restraints having taken their toll.
With a snap of a finger, he put your clothes back on, and you felt like a weight has been lifted off your chest. You couldn't believe he stopped. He looked at you. "Remember what I said, pet. You don't speak about this to anyone. I'll know if you do. Understand?"
You nodded.
"Good girl," he affirmed.
"Come," he motioned for you to follow him, and for a moment, you considered fleeing again, knowing full well that it branded you a coward. But the terror of Loki's power held you in check.
You didn't get far before he seized you once more. "Enough!" he bellowed, sending you crashing to the ground. Your body felt numb, the pain overwhelming. You begged through the agony, "Please."
"You brought this on yourself, pet," Loki's tone was icy, disappointment etched in his features. "I was going to take care of you, give everything you desired, and all I asked in return was your love and trust. And you broke it."
"Please, Loki. I'm sorry, I'm so sorry," you pleaded, desperation lacing your words.
He shook his head, "No, pet. There is no going back. You have to pay the price for what you've done," he stated firmly, his grip unyielding.
Loki wrapped his arm around you and pulled you closer to him, "Sweet dreams my pet."
And then, everything faded into darkness.
When you woke up, you were on the bed, naked. The room was dark, and there was no sign of Loki. At least right now your arms and legs weren’t bounded. But still he had kidnapped you. "Fucking asshole!" You cursed inside your head.
Then you heard footsteps approaching outside, you pretended to fall asleep, hoping that he'd leave. "I know you're awake, my sweet." He chuckled, "Did you really think you could trick me, darling? You're such a naughty girl, aren't you? Tsk tsk. Such a bad girl."
You tried to fool the god of mischief, what an idiot you were. You opened your eyes and saw him staring at you. He sat down next to you and began caressing your body. He ran his hand up and down your legs.
You slapped his hand away, you hated him. How dare he touch you like that! Loki grabbed your wrist, "Don't try to stop me, little one." He threatened, his grip was tight. It hurt. "No, stop." You whimpered. You tried to struggle free, but he was too strong.
"Oh no, no, no, you're not going anywhere." He said as he pinned you down on the bed. "Are you ready to behave now, my sweet?"
You refused to respond, instead, you glared at him.
Loki shook his head and chuckled. "You are so beautiful, my sweet.”
You were getting tired of him calling you sweet and darling. "Shut up, Loki. Don’t fucking call me that, you bastard!"
He gave you a stern look. "Behave."
"Or what?" You challenged.
Loki leaned down and pressed his lips to your ear. "If you don't stop that right now, I'm going to have to punish you."
You glared up at him. "What, like you haven't already done that?"
Loki smirked, "Don't be a smartass, darling. I can make this a lot worse."
You rolled your eyes. "Yeah, sure."
Loki gripped your hair tightly and tugged your head back. "Are you sure you want to challenge me?"
You looked up at him defiantly. "Do your worst." You then saw him grinned, you realized you had made a big mistake.
"As you wish, little one." Loki said with a wicked grin. He got off the bed and started taking his clothes off. You knew what he was going to do, and it scared you.
He took off his shirt and threw it aside. You were confused at first, until Loki lifted his other hand and started waving it.
"What are you doing?"
"Just making sure you don't try to resist."
"What the fuck does that mean?"
"It means, I don't want you getting away." Loki smirked. He then started moving his hand up and down your body.
You squirmed and tried to push his hand away, but they felt frozen. "Let me go, you sick bastard!"
Loki gave you a wicked grin. "No, I don't think I will"
Loki forced his lips against yours, you tried to resist, but it was useless. You couldn't move. You tried to turn your head, but it was no use.
Loki forced his tongue into your mouth. He explored every inch of your mouth, tasting you. You could taste his breath. It was sweet, with a hint of mint. You tried to pull away, but he wouldn't let you.
"Stop!" You yelled, "Please stop, Loki! I don't want to do this!
Loki ignored you. He kept kissing you, forcing his tongue down your throat. "I know you like it, darling."
You shook your head. Loki broke the kiss and smiled. "You're such a stubborn little thing, aren't you?"
"Fuck you." You spat.
“Why are you so impatient, my little pet?” Loki laughed. "Don’t worry, I’ll do it in a moment. Right now, I'm more concerned with teaching you a lesson."
You glared at him, you were so pissed off. He laughed again, “Such a pretty face, too.” He traced his finger along your jawline.
Then you watched Loki removed his pants, revealing his fully erect cock. He stroked himself slowly. You felt your body heat up. You couldn't believe it. He was making you hot.
"See something you like?" He grinned.
You blushed. You looked away. It had been awhile since you had sex with him or anyone else. You missed being fucked by him. You needed to feel his cock deep inside of you. But you knew this was wrong, you looked away from him.
"Look at me." He ordered.
You turned and looked at him. You watched as he continued to stroke his cock. "You betrayed me, Y/N." He climbed over you and straddled your hips, trapping your wrists with his hands, and pinned them above your head. "You hurt me. You have to be punished."
“You are hurting me too.”
“I don’t think so, pet. Deep down, you want this. You want me to force myself to you, you don’t think I know? I know your deepest darkest desire. The desire you try to deny. The desire for me to make you mine again. You want to be my pet again, don't you?"
He was right. You were afraid to admit it but you missed Loki. But you didn't want to admit it. You shook your head, “No! I don’t have such thing.” You knew it was a lie, deep down you wanted him to use you and force himself on you, forced you into submission, make you his again, like he had done many times before.
"Keep lying to yourself, pet. I know you more than you know yourself. Now, open your mouth and let me fuck it.” He smirked and moved closer to you. His cock was inches away from your face. You moved your head away, but he grabbed your hair and pulled it. You winced in pain.
"Open up. Open wide and say ahh."
You refused to obey. "Don't be stubborn." You clenched your teeth together. "If you don't open your mouth, I'll fuck your throat. I'll make you gag and choke."
"You're sick."
"Maybe, but so are you, darling."
He grabbed your face, forced your mouth open. You kept them close together, "I'll fucking bite your dick off, I swear."
He was having none of it, he used his magic to make you couldn't move your jaw. Then he shoved his cock inside your mouth and forced his way in. He started to pump his hips and his cock went deep down your throat, hitting the back of your throat. He moaned, enjoying the feeling.
He pushed his cock deep into your throat, making you gag. You could feel his hard length against your tongue. His precum leaked onto your taste buds, sending shivers down your spine. He kept thrusting in and out of your mouth, deeper and deeper. Your eyes watered.
You coughed, trying to catch your breath, but he was relentless. His hands gripped your hair tightly, his hips moved faster and harder, his cock sliding in and out of your throat.
You felt your body relax, your heart rate quickened, and your clit throbbed. You were getting turned on by this. You whimpered and felt a surge of excitement flow through your body. You couldn't believe it. You were excited at the thought of him taking you, forcing you, fucking you.
You were sick.
"This is all your fault." He said as he looked at you, enjoying the way your throat was stretched around him. "Such a good pet. Take it all, pet."
He grabbed your hair and forced his cock deeper into your mouth. You were struggling to breathe. He moaned louder as he felt his cock going deeper into your throat. He held his cock in your throat, watching you struggle to breathe. "Such a pretty face. I wonder how many people you've sucked off.”
You whimpered, feeling your body reacting to his words.
"Did you plan to suck that guy you were flirting with?" He thrusted his hips. You gagged and tears filled your eyes. "He could never make you feel this good." He moaned. His thrust became harder and deeper. You choked and gagged on his cock.
You cried, your body trembled. You were about to pass out, when he suddenly pulled his cock out and allowed you to breathe. You gasped, sucking in as much air as possible. You couldn't move, you were frozen. He then proceed to grab his cock and stroke it.
"Such a pretty sight, you are. And the view of your lips wrapped around my cock." He said, grinning. "Don't worry, my pet. I'm almost there. You're doing a great job. You're going to be rewarded for being so good for me. I'm going to give you what you want. What you need."
He grabbed your hair and slammed his cock deep again into your throat. Then his hand reached to your pussy. He put his finger in your pussy, you moaned as he touched your pussy. He smirked. "That's a good girl, you are learning. Now, suck my cock."
You started sucking his cock. He started thrusting his cock deeper and harder into your throat. He moaned as you sucked his cock. He loved feeling your mouth on his cock.
"Mmmphh… stwop.” You tried to beg, but his cock was down your throat.
"Do not talk with your mouth full, darling. That is not polite."
You felt him tighten around your neck. His grip was firm.
"I am going to cum. Do not spit. Swallow every drop, and maybe I will reward you. But only if you're a good girl. Do you understand?"
"Mmmph." You tried to protest, but the god didn't listen. You couldn't do anything except suck his cock. Loki kept fucking your mouth until his seed spilled into your throat, you felt the warm liquid slide down your throat making you choke. Your eyes rolled back as you swallowed his seed. He pulled out and released your hands.
You coughed, and gasped for air. "Good girl. Very good girl." Loki patted your head.
You glared at him. You wanted him dead.
"Don't be like that, Y/N. You're supposed to be happy. This is what you wanted, remember? We're together again. Just like old times."
You looked away. "That was a long time ago."
Loki grabbed your chin and forced you to look at him. "But it's not too late. We can have it again. We can have everything. We just have to work together."
"Work together?" You scoffed, "How can we work together? You lied to me!”
“We can talk later, my love. Right now, I need to be inside you.” He stroked his cock, he was still hard even after he came earlier. He spread your legs apart and grabbed a hold of his cock, aiming it towards your wet pussy.
"Now I'm going to fuck you so hard until you pass out. Until I cum deep inside of you and make you mine again. Then when you wake up, I'll fuck you again, and again, and again."
You felt him press his cock against your pussy, his head slid between your folds and penetrated you. "No, Loki, please, I'm sorry."
"It's too late for that." He stroked down his hard cock even after he just came, he was hard again. He then forced himself inside of you. You screamed in agony. He was too big.
"Oh, stop your whining." Loki chuckled. "You're such a baby. It doesn't hurt that much."
His cock was big that it stretched your open, he didn’t give you time to adjust. You screamed, "You fucking asshole!"
"Watch your mouth, darling. I'm not a fan of that language." Loki slapped your pussy, it was red and swollen from his previous assault. He kept thrusting his hips, his cock pounded you over and over. Your whole body ached from him.
He was holding your waist down with one hand and pumping his hips in and out of your pussy. He continued to thrust in and out of you. He took his time and made sure he hit the spot that would make you scream and beg for more. He knew what you wanted, he knew your body and what made you tick.
You were biting your lip, trying not to give him the satisfaction of hearing you moan for him.
"Why don't you let me hear those beautiful moans, pet?" Loki purred, leaning his face in close to yours. "Don't hold back, you know you want to enjoy this."
"No..."
Loki grinned and snapped his hips hard against yours. "I know what you like, and I know you like this. It's why I keep doing this." He smiled wickedly. Loki picked up the pace. His cock hit the spot inside of you. "It’s okay. You don’t need to be embarrassed, just let it all out."
You bit your lip and gripped his sheets, trying not to make a sound. "Darling, you're so stubborn, you're going to hurt yourself." Loki grabbed a fistful of your hair and yanked on it, causing you to moan and look up at him.
"You're fucking psycho!"
Loki began pounding into you even harder. His hand gripped your throat, and you felt yourself grow weaker. fast. "Loki, please..." Your vision began to fade, and you started gasping for air. “Stop…” Loki's fingers wrapped around your neck, he choked you.
He squeezed them together and pounding his cock into you. You screamed and he slapped your pussy again. He fucked you harder than you'd ever been fucked before. You were sobbing, begging him to stop. Tears ran down your face but he didn't slow down. He kept fucking you harder than before. Your breasts were bouncing wildly as he pounded into you.
You felt him hit a spot inside of you that caused a surge of pleasure to flow through your body. "That's it, darling." Loki moaned, slamming his hips harder against yours. "Come on, you know you want to."
You felt your orgasm building. You tried to fight the urge, but you couldn't help yourself. He kept pounding into you, his cock rubbing against your g-spot.
"Don’t fight it. You can't resist, so just give in." Loki said thrusting harder and harder, until you were both a moaning, writhing mess. Your walls clenched around his cock, and you arched your back. You moaned loudly as he fucked you harder and faster.
You couldn't fight it anymore, you screamed in pleasure, feeling yourself reaching your peak.
"Fuck, yes! Come for me! Milk my cock, pet"
You cried out as your orgasm crashed over you. Loki didn't stop, he continued thrusting in and out of your pussy. Your body shook uncontrollably. You cried out again, screaming.
"Please, stop." You pleaded, panting.
Loki ignored you, he fucked you harder and harder, and you could feel his cock throbbing inside of you. "I'm going to fill you with my seed. You'll be leaking it out for days. Every time you sit down or move, you'll feel it dripping down your thighs. You'll be mine."
"Please, Loki! No! Pull out!" You begged, trying to push him off of you. But he was too strong. "Why are you doing this to me?" You cried.
"I'm not going to pull out." Loki's fingers wrapped around your neck, he choked you. "After you betrayed me, this is the least you deserve. I'm going to make you pregnant. You'll have a little monster running around. You won’t ever leave me again.”
"No! Loki, stop!" You sobbed, crying out. "I'll do anything! Please don't cum in me."
"It's too late, pet." Loki ignored your pleas, he continued thrusting hard. He rubbed your clit, "Cum with me, my sweet." He was rubbing it harder, making it hard for you to keep up with his thrusts.
You shook your head. Loki growled. "Now."
You gasped, "No! No!" You cried out, trying to pull away. You couldn't fight it anymore. You moaned loudly. Your whole body spasmed with your orgasm, your walls clenching tightly around him.
Loki groaned. You felt him got bigger inside you. He let out a long moan. "Take my cum." He spilled his hot seed inside you. It filled you, filling you up, some of it spilling out. You could feel it filling your womb, stretching your belly. It was so warm.
He continued to fuck you through his orgasm, pushing more of his cum into you. "No! Please stop!"
Loki laughed, his cock was still hard and pushed his cock back into your pussy. "Oh, but we're not done yet. I'm not finished with you yet." He pushed himself deeper inside you. He was still coming. "This is just the beginning."
"You're fucking insane."
"Yes, I know." Loki was still pumping his cock in and out of you. "I'm going to train your body. You're going to crave me, my cock, and my cum. And every time you see me, you're going to want me to fuck you. You'll need me."
"No!" You cried.
"Yes, yes, you will. Because I'm the only one who can satisfy you." He was thrusting harder, deeper, his pace increasing.
You were afraid he might never stop. And he never did.
It had felt like hours. You lost count on how many times you had orgasmed. It was too much. The room was spinning, the pain and pleasure becoming too much. You were so sensitive, every touch sending you over the edge.
“Loki, please stop. I’m begging you.” You were exhausted, spent, and sore. You couldn’t take it anymore. But you couldn’t stop him, he was too strong and too weak. He kept fucking you over and over again until you were almost at the point of passing out. But he made sure you never did by using his magic to keep you awake.
"Look at your beautiful, stretched pussy. My seed is already filling you."
You whimpered, you could feel it. You could feel the weight of his cum inside you. He never pull out. He kept coming, and his cock kept spurting more and more. You didn’t think it was possible for anyone to have so much cum. He was fucking you again and again.
"You'll learn to love me. You'll learn to beg for me. You'll learn to come on command. You'll learn to obey me. You'll learn to pleasure me. You'll learn to worship me. Because that is how we are, my sweet."
It seemed like an eternity, but finally, he was done. He collapsed onto you, panting heavily. His cock remained buried inside your pussy, and you felt him softening inside you. Your pussy ached from the rough pounding he had given you.
"You are mine, my sweet. Now and forever." He said, giving you a possessive look.
You felt his cum slowly trickle out of you. Your belly was still swollen from the amount he had pumped into you. You had never felt so full. It was like you were a water balloon, and he had been filling you with water.
Loki kissed you deeply. You could barely fight him back, you were too weak. He smiled and ran his hand through your hair. "Now get some sleep, I'll be back to check on you later." Loki got up from the bed and walked away.
The door shut. You laid there, stunned and exhausted. You were still trying to process what had happened, but there was one thing you knew for sure. You were trapped. You were his prisoner.
He was not going to let you go. Ever.
"I hate you, Loki." You whispered.
And you knew he heard it.
E/N : I intentionally made her emotion sway back and forth, torn between desiring him yet hating his actions. They're both twisted in their own ways, perhaps that's why they complement each other.
Honestly, I'm not entirely content with how the story is going; I might rewrite or delete it later, I'm not sure. Nevertheless, thank you for reading!
Let me know if you enjoy dark fics too! I adore them and plan to write more.
#loki laufesyon x reader#loki x reader#loki x reader smut#loki smut#loki season 2#dark fic#dark loki x reader#marvel x reader#marvel fic
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FRIENDS WITHIN TOUCHING DISTANCE
⊹ Summary: Jungkook and you, his childhood friend, live together in an apartment, sharing space as roommates. Your relationship, built on years of friendship, is gradually becoming strained by growing sexual tension. You decide to become friends with benefits, trying not to complicate your feelings. But Jungkook's world is not so simple. When you begin to realize that he is hiding something, you open the veil of his double life - a world of mafia, criminal activity, and risk that could ruin not only your deal, but everything you valued in each other.
⊹ Couple: Jeon Jungkook/ Fem!Reader
⊹ Characters: The Reader, Jeon Jungkook, Park Jimin, Kim Taehyung, Min Yoongi, Kim Seokjin, Kim Namjoon, Jeon Hoseok.
⊹ 🔞 Age restrictions: 18+
⊹ 👩🏼❤️👨🏻 Relationships: ⚤
⊹ 📘 Number of part: 25/?
⊹ 🖇️ Tags: best friends, friends with benefits, slow longing, sexual tension, protected sex, unprotected sex, alcohol, drunken sex, inexperienced main character, mafia au, illegal trade, deaths of minor characters, weapons, swear words.
⊹ 👩🏼💻From the author: ✊🏻✊🏻 Knock, knock… it's me again with my new chapter. I want to assure you right away that I'm not obsessed with sex in the car (after all, this is the third scene where they have sex in the car), it's just that this scene appeared in my head so suddenly, and they were in the car at that time... 🤭😁 Anyway, let me know if you liked this? And also, do you like the plot development?
⊹ 🫂 Dedication: For you, my love @myjungkookthighs. You are my favorite person 😘🥰 You know that I appreciate you so much and love you🥰💜
⊹ ⚠️ Warning: English is not my native language, so there may be mistakes in the text. Please don't get mad at me too much! Those under 18, please don't read this story!
⊹ 📋 Tag list: @myjungkookthighs, @notsevenwithyou, @nikkinikj, @lovelyyylunaa222, @jiminiemanura, @jalexad , @kelsyx33 (If anyone wants to be in my tag list let me know)
≣ Chapter Index ↓
Part 18. Dangerous.
Your eyes are closed, and there are thousands of thoughts in your head. All of them create chaos in your head and you can't understand what is important to think about now and what is not worth attention. This causes anxiety. You should be happy because you finally have a relationship. You have a loved one who is supposed to make you happy. Of course, you are sure that he will make you, but what is happening in your life right now makes you feel like you are in limbo.
Jungkook is your best friend who is now your boyfriend. He belongs to the mafia and does a pretty dangerous job. You imagine, just for a second, what he does and what he looks like, and you feel horror crawling through your body. You feel discomfort mixed with anxiety and open your eyes.
The Mercedes drives smoothly, but with its characteristic engine growl. The interior is warm and smells like unobtrusive citrus. Jungkook is watching the road, holding the steering wheel with one hand.
You look sideways at his profile without turning your head. His perfect face seems to be getting beautifully to you every day. You literally can't stop admiring him.
Jungkook looked calm, almost detached, focused on the road. His sharp features seemed to be carved by God himself: a strong jawline, a straight nose, perfect symmetry of his eyebrows, which moved slightly as he thought about something. His lips, slightly pursed but soft, beckoned to be touched and tasted.
His hand gripped the steering wheel. The tattoos were eye-catching. You looked at his long fingers and imagined them holding a gun. His index finger pulled the trigger and a shot rang out. Someone had died by his hand.
You shook your head slightly to clear away the horrific image you were sure had never happened. Jungkook would never kill a human. But you are saddened by the thought that you doubt. You can't say that you believe that Jungkook is not a murderer. But how can this gentle, caring person take someone's life? You are confused and completely disoriented. You just don't know what to believe.
Why are you thinking about all this while driving in the car? You know about the situation with the devices that Doohoon stole. You have a vague idea of what awaits Jungkook when you arrive in Seoul and he meets Namjoon. You're scared and nervous about revealing this to Jungkook so that he doesn't worry about you. Will Namjoon be really angry? Will he punish him in some mafia-style way or just tell you that another $50 million is added to the blog and let Jungkook go? What a lot of money!
Although everything is perfect between you and Jungkook right now, you can't keep thinking about who he really is. Knowing criminal world, the life will seem to you like a ticking time bomb. Sooner or later it will explode. However, your feelings for Jungkook are growing every day, and you think about how you can save him. What can you do to make him leave the mafia and finally live like a normal person?
You pick up your new phone and look at the time. It's eleven in the morning. It's only a thirty-minute drive to Seoul.
Jungkook notices that you are awake and looks over at you. A smile touches his lips and he reaches out to you. He places his hand on your thigh and squeezes it lightly.
"Did you doze off?" - He asks. His voice is hoarse and gentle at the same time. Your eyes instantly find his and you smile back. In fact, you were awake. You were trying to sort out the chaos in your head. But all you got were not clear thoughts but a headache.
"A little." - You lie. "I lost my sleep rhythm. It was hard for me to wake up at 7 a.m. to get ready for the trip." - You admit.
"How much sleep did you get?" - Jungkook asks looking ahead.
"Three hours." - You say. Jungkook's eyebrows fly up.
"Baby, you need to get more sleep. I'll take you home and you can go straight to bed." - Jungkook is worried. You struggle to smile.
"Okay." - You agree. After a moment, you speak again. "Your mom must have been sad that you had to leave in the morning, right? It would have been better if you hadn't stopped by your parents' house at all." - You say in a sad, slightly guilty voice. Jungkook could have stayed with his parents longer, but he spent a lot of time with you yesterday. And this morning he left because he had to meet Namjoon.
Jungkook heard what you said and laughed softly. He stroked your thigh as if to calm you down.
"That's what my mom said when I told my parents I was just passing through. I told my mother I was on business near Suwon so I came to see them because I was miss, even though I had important business in Seoul since morning. My mother was touched that I wasted time to coming to they and instantly melted." - Jungkook told you. You raised your eyebrows, unhappy that Jungkook was manipulating his mother's feelings with a lie.
"You lie to your mother and think it's okay?" - You asked, irritated. Jungkook gave you a quick glance and the smile disappeared from his lips.
"I wasn't lying. It was almost like that." - Jungkook defended himself. "If I had told her that I had come for a couple of days but had to leave in the morning, she would have been upset. Besides, I promised her I would come back after the new year."
"You've been lying a lot lately." - You complained, even though you knew Jungkook was right. The fact that he lied made sense. But he was really lying a lot, and you were nervous about it. He's the one who can lie to you easily!
"Only the last four years." - Jungkook says ironically, meaning that it started when he met Namjoon. You snort in displeasure.
"More. About six years." - You say. Jungkook raises his eyebrows, wondering why it took so long. He looks at you questioningly, and you stretch your lips into a luscious smile. "You wanted me all along and lied about me not being your type." - You explain. Jungkook smiles again, the smile of a man who has been exposed.
"Is it my fault that you didn't reciprocate for so long?" - Jungkook asks you. You're shocked. Meaning you didn't respond? Did he show any interest in you? He just liked to tease you and make you blush. He's been with a lot of girls, even though he says he's liked you since high school.
"Reciprocated on what? You never even hit on me like a normal guy." - Jungkook bursts out laughing.
"I'm sorry. I did it the best I could." - He says through his laughter.
"No. You didn’t do all the best that you could. You were just a playboy. Who thought, that his best friend wasn't going anywhere anyway." - You said it a little harshly. Jungkook didn't stop smiling, but he raised his eyebrows. It sounded like an accusation.
"Do you know me that well, baby?" - Jungkook jokes, trying to calm you down. Because he can already see you're getting annoyed.
"Yes. I know you very well. I just don't know why it took you so long to ask me out. Did you want to be free longer?" - You ask sharply, trying to be calm.
"I was in a relationship before you, so the 'free' theory isn't true, baby. I dated Minsoo at school for a year, and I dated Jayon for about a year too. And I dated Ha Young for a long time. But when I started working for Namjoon, it became difficult to have a girlfriend. I wasn't a playboy." - Jungkook explains indignantly. The mention of Jungkook's exes makes you even more irritated. You give him an angry look.
"You were!" - You growl. "Do you want me to recall all your passions that wrote to me to stay away from you? For some reason, your last one isn't there, although I'm sure she wanted to threaten me too. That's probably why you stopped talking to me during your first year at university." - Jungkook exhaled nervously. You were angry about this. You sat up straight and crossed your arms over your chest. Jungkook rubbed his palms on the steering wheel.
"Okay, if you think I'm a playboy, so be it. But what are we arguing about? You accuse me of not courted you well, but you've never even flirted with me as a joke. All I ever heard you say was, ‘I'm going to kill you, Jeon.’" - Jungkook imitated you. You choked on your anger and indignation.
"Did I have to do that? I thought you were my friend, and I didn't think it was necessary. But you were flirting with everyone, you didn't miss a skirt. And it spread to me too because I have boobs. That's why I didn't react." - You snapped back.
"You liked me, you could have reciprocated." - Jungkook says lightly.
"No, I didn't. I didn't like you!" - You shouted. Your pulse was pounding in your ears. Jungkook gave you a look full incredulous. "I only started to like you when we started living together." - You lied.
"Are you answering for your words?" - Jungkook asks you in a serious tone. You can hear your heart beating desperately against your ribcage, and you delay your answer for a long few seconds.
"Yes. I'm telling you the truth." - You say with determination, but you're afraid you don't sound confident. "If I would like you, how I was okay with you fucking every girl in town?" - The muscles in his jaw are pulsing. He's irritated. He flicks his tongue against his cheek, and you never miss this gesture.
"You've dreamed of being in those girls' shoes, and don't tell me you haven't, baby." - Jungkook says slyly. Although you expected a more angry reaction, judging by the look on his face.
"Never. You're the one who must have wanted me to be in their shoes, because you've been wanting to fuck me for so long." - You reply defiantly. Jungkook snorts. You approach him, leaning over the armrest. You can clearly see the shine of his perfect skin. "You should have just confess to me instead of sticking your dick in everyone's." - You smile. Jungkook pulls off the road and parks on the side of the road. You fall back on the seat. You stare dumbfounded at the road, trying to understand why Jungkook stopped. Before you can say anything, you feel Jungkook's hand squeezing your cheeks. His face is just a few centimeters away and his eyes radiate something devilish.
"Your big mouth is too big sometimes. I can put my cock in your mouth. That you'd stop saying stupid things." - Jungkook says thoughtfully. He looks at you with authority. You feel a piercing sensation between your thighs, and you think you just wet your panties.
"Try your luck, Jeon." - You say through clenched cheeks. You feel Jungkook's fingernails digging into your skin. Jungkook laughs, but it's a laugh that sounds like something between mocking and maniacal.
"Why do you like provoking me so much? Do you get off on me being rude to you?" - Jungkook asks, and you feel him already undoing the button on your jeans. You get wet in anticipation of Jungkook's fingers on your pussy. He's right that you like his roughness and power. But you can't admit it. Of course you love it when he's gentle and caring, but those eyes, those eyes in front of you, they set your whole being on fire.
"Don't even touch me!" - You scream when you feel his hand slowly slide down your pants. Jungkook's eyes darken even more when you don't let him. His cock instantly hardens. Jungkook captures your lips and his fingers are already touching your folds. You grab his hand, but your strength is not enough, because you can't resist your desire to have him touch you.
Jungkook terrorizes your lips, his tongue literally fills your entire mouth. You return the kiss with the same passion. He caresses your clit and you can't help but moan into Jungkook's mouth.
"Take off your pants quickly and get on my lap." - Jungkook orders you. You are flushed from his kiss and touch. Jungkook pushes his seat back as far as it will go. He notices that you are sitting still. You don't listen to him right away, and he gets mad. "Baby, don't try my patience. Otherwise I will punish you severely." - Jungkook asks you. Although it sounds like a pure threat. You smile slyly. You wonder how he can punish you severely?
"Make me, Jeon. I wasn't planning on sitting on your such promiscuous cock tonight." - You say as if you're testing Jungkook's patience. He's horny and eager to get satisfaction, and you won't bite your cheeky tongue. Jungkook slowly approaches you. He doesn't touch you, he just moves a short distance away. You unconsciously squeeze into the seat.
"You have half a minute to take off your clothes and climb on my lap. Otherwise I'll climb on top of you and you'll choke on my cock. Choose, baby." - He says gently. You look at him and realize that you are too excited. The wetness between your legs and the aching more screaming at you to listen to Jungkook and do as he says. Without looking away from your boyfriend's black eyes, you take off your jeans. Jungkook leaned back a little and smiled victoriously, one corner of his lips quirking up. "What a good girl." - He says and returns to his seat. Jungkook lifts his hips and pulls down his sweatpants along with his boxers. He lowers them to his knees so they don't get in the way.
You see Jungkook's erect cock, eager for attention. The thick vein that runs along its length attracts your attention and you want to feel it with your tongue.
You quickly get rid of your jeans and thong. You don't take off your turtleneck, thinking that you don't need to undress completely for a quick fuck.
Jungkook is waiting for you. He pumps his cock several times, smearing his pre-cum. When you climb onto his lap, he smiles evilly. You don't even expect the punishment you're going to get for your long tongue.
You press your pussy against his aroused cock and bite your lip. Jungkook grabs your hips and lifts you up to enter you right away. He won't stretch you this time. You have to be punished today.
You will feel the head of his cock running over your clit. Jungkook uses it to rub your wetness. When he presses his cock against your entrance, you sigh with anticipation. He plunges into you and you think he's going to go slowly, but his hands on your hips jerk you around and he enters you abruptly. A cry of pain escapes your mouth. Jungkook admires you, his lips curved in a cocky smile. Your eyes are closed, your eyebrows are drawn together, and your mouth is open. This expression could easily pass for pleasure, but your face is pure pain.
"You didn't think I'd be gentle, did you? As I remember, you like me to be rough." - Jungkook says with difficulty. His voice is low and husky. He's trying to withstand the way your tight pussy is squeezing his cock.
"It hurts..." - You whimper. Jungkook squeezes your thighs with his fingers and gives a deep thrust. You scream again, but less painfully. Now it's more pleasant than painful.
"You're being punished, not having lovemaking." - Jungkook tells you. You open your eyes and see his face radiating lust and anger at the same time.
"Why are you punishing me? For I telling that you fucked everyone?" - You say slyly. Jungkook looks at you defiantly and slams his hips into you again, plunging his cock into you as much as possible. It's as if he's knocking all the air out of you when he does this. You forget how to breathe when he starts fucking you intensely. You moan in pleasure, moving your hips to meet Jungkook's.
"You need to be punished for running your mouth. What business is it of yours how many I've fucked?" - Jungkook asks, breathing heavily.
"Business?" - You gasp. "It’s my business, because you could have fucked me a long time ago instead of all those whores." - You say indignantly. You talk as if you're not sitting naked on Jungkook in the car right now, filled to the brim with his cock.
"I'm fucking you right now, and I started doing it when we were friends. Aren't you also my slut too?" - Jungkook asks, smiling. You moan as you bounce on him. Are you his whore? Only he and you can't be compared to them.
"No. I'm not..." - You want to tell him not to put you on the same level as those girls. But his cock pounding into you, making you feel incredible, silences you.
"Oh, yeah. Just look at you. You're sitting on my cock and you can't get enough. You love it when I'm rough with you, like a real whore." - Jungkook's voice is hot. Your head is spinning.
Jungkook catches a glimpse of your erect nipples, visible through your black turtleneck. He takes one hand off your hip to free your breasts from your clothes. Your tits fall out and move in time with your movements.
Jungkook doesn't like the way your clothes are in the way. He stops you and takes off the last thing you're wearing, over your head. He throws the turtleneck elsewhere and pounces on your attractive nipples.
Jungkook grabs one in his hand, kisses it gently at first, then swirls his tongue around it several times. He suddenly sucks on the nipple so hard that almost tears barely appear in your eyes. You hiss, just sitting on his cock. Your pussy is throbbing and you wouldn't mind if Jungkook paid attention to your clit. He sucks on your nipples, and it hurts a lot more than all the other times.
"Does it hurt?" - Jungkook asks, pulling away from your breast. You bite your lip so hard that it hurts too. You nod that it hurts, but that's not the right answer. Jungkook smiles with satisfaction. Your punishment continues as he begins to pound you with his hips again, ruthlessly pushing his cock into you. You are as close together as possible, so you can feel his pubic bone with your clit.
Your knees are getting tired of holding onto the narrow seat on the sides of Jungkook's thighs. But Jungkook doesn't care.
He looks down at your pussy and thinks that you must be finally punished. You continue to ride Jungkook's cock and suddenly you feel a blow to your pussy. It doesn't hurt too much. But fuck, it's so unusual. You stop and watch Jungkook's cruel smile in puzzlement.
"This pussy is responsible for your long tongue. You can apologize to her for your impudence." - Jungkook says sweetly. You want to protest, but another stroke silences you, almost choking. Jungkook touches your clit, just as you wanted him to, and he massages it, making you feel euphoric. But when he pinches your clit, you scream. And Jungkook giggles in amusement. You squeeze his shoulder with all your strength, and if he wasn't wearing a sweatshirt, you would have scratched him.
"But you were right, baby. When I was fucking all those girls, I was imagining you." - Jungkook confesses. His voice is still brutal with no hint of sweetness. "Because all I ever wanted was you. You're my cherished dream come true." - You open your eyes and finally see his loving smile. You feel like everything inside you is on fire. He lights you up with a fire that spreads throughout your body. Your soul trembles at his words, as do you. You lean into him and kiss him, putting all your feelings into this kiss. Jungkook responds. Your lips tell each other that you are in love.
Jungkook squeezes your buttocks as he moves you around on his lap. You lean on the seat with one hand to keep your balance. You speed up your movements. You feel Jungkook's cock grinding against your walls. He touches your G-spot, building up your orgasm. A wave of pleasant pleasure slowly covers you. One moment and the knot in the bottom of your stomach breaks, engulfing your body in blissful pleasure.
You moan into Jungkook's ear and he can't get enough of the sound. He keeps fucking you so he can come himself. He hardens to the maximum and lifts your juicy hips to get out of you. You get up and instantly fall back on his lap. His hot cum paints your pussy and his stomach. You watch his cock twitch, spewing white liquid. When it softens, you finally look up at Jungkook. You see him smiling with satisfaction. You reflexively lift your lips in a smile.
"You didn't come in me, so that's a big success." - You joke. Jungkook grabs your neck and pulls you gently.
"Is that mouth ever going to stop being so big?" - He asks before kissing you one last time. You taste your boyfriend's lips and can't get enough.
"Never. I was given to you so that you would never relax in your life." - You answer, pulling away from Jungkook's lips. Jungkook laughs and you get off his lap. You have to clean yourself up. Before you can make it home.
Jungkook dropped you off at house. He wanted to help you carry your things upstairs, but you assured him that you could do it yourself. You argued for a long few minutes and you convinced him. He kissed you goodbye and left for the main office of «Mono Corp».
Jungkook was almost calm. He could have been nervous. After all, Namjoon had found out about everything. But Jungkook had everything under control. He was in Japan those days while you were away, and he was able to return all the devices. And they in Korea by now. Hayato texted he last night and told him that he and the devices were in the port of Busan.
Jungkook parks the Mercedes and goes up to the top floor of the building. He doesn't meet any of his friends on the way and it's a little strange. Where did they all go? He approaches Namjoon's office and greets the secretary. The woman nods and invites him inside. Jungkook crosses the threshold and finds himself in the sacred place for the boss of an influential mafia clan.
He felt heavy, like a mountain pressing down on his chest. This happens every time he finds himself in this place.
Namjoon's office wasn't just a workspace - it was a zone of authority that Jungkook hated and respected at the same time.
Dark wood on the walls, a large panoramic window overlooking the masterpiece lights of Seoul. A huge ebony desk with papers and documents on it reflected the very essence of this place: everything is under control. Namjoon was sitting at the desk, leaning slightly forward, focused, but his expression was not stern. There was an invisible warmth in him, but it was all deliberate.
"Jungkook." - He said quietly, without the usual pressure and threats that accompanied normal meetings in the mafia world. "Have a seat." - He pointed to the couch, which was located away from the table.
"Hello." - Jungkook greeted, bowing him and sat down on the designated seat. Namjoon put some papers aside. He ordered coffee from his secretary for the two of them and stood up from the table.
Jungkook didn't look at Namjoon, but he knew exactly what he was doing. The sound of his expensive shoes broke the silence. Namjoon sat down across from Jungkook and stared at his subordinate.
Jungkook looked up at the leader and stared intently at his expression.
"What's up, kid?" - Namjoon asked with an uncharacteristic warmth in his voice. Jungkook pressed his lips together, showing off his mole under his lower lip.
"All is right." - Jungkook didn't lie. Namjoon lazily turned his head to the side, his gaze remaining calm but studying. His whole appearance was like a challenge, but not aggressive. It was an intellectual strength, a strength that didn't need to be brutal. He looked at Jungkook, and his eyes reflected a patience that could end at any time.
"Why did you hide everything from me?" - Namjoon asks. Jungkook knows exactly what he's talking about.
"Jimin had nothing to do with it. It's completely my fault. So please don't punish him." - Jungkook says at first. This brings a faint smile to Namjoon's lips. He's always so noble.
"Jimin knows me well, he should have foreseen that I would find out about your affairs anyway." - Namjoon said more coldly, showing that Jimin would not escape punishment for covering up for Jungkook. "It's so funny, kid, that you thought I wouldn't know that 50 million dollars disappeared from under my nose." - Namjoon let out a shrill laugh. The laughter echoed in Jungkook's ears like an intrusive fly.
"I didn't think you wouldn't find out, I just wanted to solve it on my own. Without bothering you." - Jungkook said in his defense.
"Solved it?" - Namjoon asked mockingly, raising his eyebrows. Jungkook wanted to answer, but the secretary came into the office with two cups of espresso. She silently put the coffee tray down, clearly sensing the tension around, and left as quickly as she could. Namjoon took the white, small cup with the black drink and took a sip. The aroma of coffee teased Jungkook's receptors. But he didn't want to drink coffee right now.
"Yes." - Jungkook replied, more firmly than he wanted to. Namjoon tasted the coffee and nodded his head.
"I like how you decided. You took almost a month to find out where the devices were. Beat that asshole to a pulp in front of our Japanese partner. And because of you, I wasted 10 minutes of my life listening to his father complain and demand compensation from me for some reason." - Namjoon said. He put the cup of coffee on the table and adjusted his expensive Rolexes.
"I'll explain..." - Jungkook said. He regretted answering so quickly. How could he explain if everything was tied to you?
"What exactly do you want to explain?" - Namjoon clarified. "Why did Doohoon, as soon as he got to Korea, immediately start make trouble to you? Or why did you beat him up and leave his blood all over the hallway? Or how did you manage to lose my 50 million dollars so easily?" - Jungkook exhaled a long breath. There were no answers to these questions, specifically for Namjoon.
"I returned the devices." - Jungkook said, carefully avoiding the topic of Doohoon.
"So what? I don't want them, I want the money." - Namjoon says dryly, and now Jungkook hears the tone he's become accustomed to.
"I'll sell them personally, I already have a new client." - Jungkook says.
"Are you sure, that I have to give you another chance?" - Namjoon asks a rhetorical question. Jungkook looks him in the eye, not afraid of his boss for a second, even though he should be.
"I'll sell them for 100 million." - Jungkook replies, and a spark lights up in Namjoon's eyes.
"100 million." - Namjoon repeats. He is silent for a second and then answers. "Don't let me down, kid. If you don't sell it for 100 million, you know This amount will be added to your debt." - He says, and it's no surprise to Jungkook. It was expected.
"I won't let you down." - Jungkook says. Namjoon finally smiles. It seems that the sum of 100 million dollars has lifted Namjoon's spirits quite a bit. He is relaxing, his posture shows it, and Jungkook is also relieved.
"But the question of Doohoon is still open." - The clan leader speaks up about him.
"I will deal with him as well. Please give me some time." - Jungkook asks. Namjoon stares at him again with a long, piercing gaze.
"Go ahead. But really deal with this brat, because I have enough problems from his father. I have more important things to do." - Namjoon says and finishes his espresso.
"I'll take care of it." - Jungkook promises. Namjoon nods in acknowledgment.
"Why does that guy Doohoon hate you so much? I remember he didn't like you in high school or something." - Namjoon says. Jungkook doesn't want to talk about this topic at all. So he keeps his mouth shut. "But thanks to him, you work for me." - The clan leader suddenly says, and Jungkook looks up at him.
"I'm only working off my debt, no more. Since Doohoon is back in Korea, you could demand your money from him. He's the one who owes you." - Jungkook says a little sharply. Namjoon's face radiates disappointment. He doesn't like the way Jungkook is talking. He would rather have Jungkook work for him voluntarily. He sees Jungkook's essence, and this job he's doing is perfect for him.
"You'll work off his debt because you're just as involved in this." - Namjoon says coldly.
"I didn't turn you in to the police, and I told you that many times. I'm not the reason you lost the money." - Jungkook defends himself.
"I don't care. Whether you were involved or not, the two of you brought him to my club." - Namjoon cuts him off, referring to the police officer's son. Jungkook stops talking and decides that the conversation is over. He gets up from the couch.
"I have to go. I have things to do." - Jungkook bows and is about to leave when Namjoon's words make him freeze in horror.
"So you two became enemies because of your girl friend?" - Namjoon asks. He said he knew everything, didn't he? Jungkook turns and glares at Namjoon. "She's really pretty, I understand why there's a war. How long have you two been living together? Jimin says she has a temper." - He pauses, enjoying Jungkook's look, and continues. "But kid, lets you make sure that your girlfriend doesn't affect my company's income. Really handle everything yourself, so I don't have to interfere personally."
Jungkook has left and you are standing on the street. There is even more snow in Seoul than in Suwon, but all the roads are well plowed. Your hands are freezing from the slight frost, and so you want to get inside as soon as possible.
To get into the building, you have to cross the parking lot, because that's where Jungkook dropped you off. You wrap your jacket tighter because there is a terrible draft in the yard and grab the handle of your suitcase. You walk away thinking about a hot bath. You don't notice the gray Volvo parked in the parking lot, not far from the high-rise building. When you pass by and hear the horn honking, you jump in surprise.
You want to scold the person who honked the horn, but you drop your suitcase, which falls on the snow compacted by cars. Doohoon stands with his car door open and smiles at you with difficulty. He can't do it normally because his face is so beaten up.
His right eyebrow is cut, and it looks like there might even be stitches because he has a large bandage on it. His lip is split in two places. There are severe bruises under both eyes, purple and burgundy in color, which suggests that they are slowly coming off. Doohoon's appearance is horrifying. Only brown eyes, the color of the whiskey, remain of his handsome face.
"Hello, candy." - He greets you, and you just want to run. You instantly remember everything you've been told Jungkook about Doohoon and you want to made him another bruise. You come to your senses. You pick up your suitcase and walk as fast as you can without saying hello to Doohoon. He catches up with you, grabbing your arm. You pull your hand away.
"Don't touch me!" - You shout. Doohoon presses his lips into a line and almost immediately grimaces in pain. His acting is Oscar-worthy.
"Let's talk, candy..." - Doohoon asks you. You feel a kind of growing anxiety. With Doohoon, you felt this all the time.
"We have nothing to talk about with you. Just like all the times before." - You say angrily.
"You came together and you return to his apartment. I can see that my words about Jungkook didn't impress you at all, although you had a slightly different reaction at the party." - Doohoon says. You pierce him with a look worth a hundred knife cuts.
"What's your business with me and my reaction? Stop following me." - You ask. Doohoon smiles, restrained and almost sweet.
"Do you remember what I said to you that night?" - Doohoon asks, but you don't answer. "I told you that I like you. That's why I can't stand aside while Jungkook is with you. It's not stalking, it's caring." - You raise your eyebrows and get even angrier.
"I don't need your concern. I don't like you for the life of me. And your behavior scares me." - You confess. Doohoon laughs heartily.
"Scares you?" - He repeats mockingly. "Does my caring scare you more than Jungkook whose hands are up to their elbows in blood?" - You freeze with a shadow of fear on your face.
"He didn't kill anyone..." - You say quietly, not believing yourself.
"Candy." - Doohoon calls you gently. "He did. You're a smart girl, you should know that people connected to the mafia are not saints. If you knew what he was doing, you'd change your mind." - You stare at each other for a while. You don't know what to say in defense of Jungkook. But Doohoon is wrong. Jungkook is still a very good person who has been trapped. And it's all thanks to Doohoon.
"Whose fault is that?" - You ask. "It's your fault that Jungkook is working for Namjoon." - Your voice is laced with venom. Doohoon takes a step toward you and you can hear your heart pounding, but you remain unmoved.
"Maybe so. But I'm not the one who pulls the trigger on a gun and beats people to death." - Doohoon says looking down at you. You look bravely into his cold eyes. "He is dangerous to you and you realize it. One day you might get hurt because of Jungkook." - Doohoon reaches out and touches your cheek. "That's why I'm here, to save you." - You're not impressed by his words. You knock his hand away.
"Who gave you permission to touch me?" - You ask harshly. "Get off me. Leave me and Jungkook alone. I don't need your concern because I know who you really are." - You jab your finger at Doohoon's chest. "You envious piece of shit." - Doohoon laughs. His anger has been growing as fast as a fire burning through dry grass. Your stance of resistance only strengthened his desire to possess you. Are you deliberately making him obsessed with you?
You walk away and Doohoon doesn't stop you. He looks at you and thinks you just signed your own warrant. He was trying to persuade you to distance yourself from Jungkook in a nice way. It looks like he need to move on to more effective ways.
You disappear from Doohoon's sight and he walks back to the car. Once behind the wheel, he dials the number he needs. Several long beeps reach his ear.
"Hello?" - Doohoon hears on the other end of the phone.
"I need to hire some guys. Remember when we talked about this?" - Doohoon asks. He starts the car and hears the sound of the engine.
"Kidnapp some girl?"
"Yeah. Find those guys who have a beef with Jungkook. I'll come to you right away and we'll talk about it in detail." - Doohoon doesn't wait for an answer and turns off the phone. His Samsung flies to the seat next to him. Doohoon steps on the gas pedal and leaves the parking lot of your and Jungkook's house.
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#jungkook x reader#jungkook#bts#bts jungkook#jungkook x f!reader#jungkook smut#jungkook friends with benefits#bts mafia au#bts fanfction
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The Devils Playpen
A Obsessive!QIMIR X BLACK!FEMALE OC STAR WARS SMUT FIC
NEXT
This is complete fiction, I do not own any characters of the star wars franchise however I own all characters of my own creation, as well as plot.
That being said, the themes will be dark, Qimir will have obsessive and possessive qualities. This story will be borderline grey morals, there will be trigger warnings in the beginning of every chapter that will be gruesome/sexual.
You’ve been warned little flower if you’d like to continue, please read forward, if not put this work of fiction down and go read the holy word…welcome to the Devils playpen…
Chapter 1) When The Predator Becomes Prey…
(Song: Obsession By Exo)
Warning: Mentions of suicide. Stalking, choking of non sexual nature. Oral sex, shibari, threats of r*pe, Light Saber play (don’t be dumb you know what that last tag means)
I walk past a woman with long and short locks but she brings no excitement to my inner beast.
How lucky she is.
I hiss internally as I walk inside of the apothecary. Once I’m inside I inhale deeply, letting the poison I desire call to my senses.
However I smell something else. Something sweet? Sticky? I let my eyes fall onto a man hunched over in a corner. I don’t bother with manners of averting my eyes.
My curiosity has a scratch and I want it itched.
“Hello?” I call out to him in a soft voice. The man appears to be sleeping and I walk closer but keep my distance. His scent still smells sticky and sweet. Like those man eating plants over on Plexart.
“Hello, sir? I’m here to buy some supplies.” I say as I stare at his sleeping form. I flick an empty bottle over and it shatters causing him to finally stir from his slumber.
“Oh, sorry.” He stretches and does a big yawn before he looks over at me. When our eyes meet, he runs his fingers through his mop like hair and gives me a lazy smile. “Oh, hello. And you are?” He asks as he stands fully.
I take note that we have a significant size difference. He looks to be 5’11 while I stand at 5’4.
“I’m here to buy supplies, unless you aren’t the owner of this shop.” I ask in a gentle yet bored tone. He clears his throat and nods. “I am, I am. So what can I get for you? Ah, pick your poison.” He jokes. I however don’t laugh or crack a smile.
“I just needs a few things on this list. Whatever you don’t have, I’m sure I can find on my travels.” I hand him a piece of paper and our fingers brush against each other. He feels cold to the touch.
Interesting…
“Hm, this is quite the list. Might I ask what are all of these for?” He asks as he looks at me.
No, he’s studying me. Which makes my inner beast stir.
“Just some tools on helping me hunt. Nothing major. I don’t mean to be rude but I do need to be on my way.”
“Right, I will get on this for you now.” He starts on my list and I decide to look around and figure out if I’m going to kill him or let him live since he brings a spark of something out of me.
“Can I ask you a question?” The man asks, which causes me to give an internal sigh. “What is your question sir?”
“Qimir, you can call me Qimir. Anyways my question for you is, what methods do you take to hunt your prey?” This question peaks my interest because the way he says prey I think he knows I hunt a different kind of species.
“There’s many ways to do that. Poisons, bare hands, even a simple isolation tactic. But the best method…is simply a mental attack. That works on any kind of prey.” I say with a hint of a smile on my lips. I look up and see Qimir staring at my lips.
I bite my plump bottom lip, which makes his Adam’s apple bob in his throat as he swallows.
“Forgive me for prying, but the items on your list, they are interesting. Bunta Root? That grows-”
“In one specific place I know, but I figured this place would have it here..” I look away from him and glance out the window.
In a matter of days, I will be at her door and I’ll she can’t escape me. I can’t wait to see her eyes widen by surprise. She’ll think how did a beast like me, hunt her down to the very last of her days.
Will she beg for her life?
Will she plead that I do it quickly?
The possibilities will be endless when I finally get my hands on Zen.
Zen…
She was once a great ally to my people at least until she got them killed.
Genocide, her and those moral less Jedi committed genocide to my people and I need to make sure they pay. She’s the final one and I just know, she knows I’m coming for her. Especially when the word went around on how her partner’s body was discovered.
I’ll never forget how his eyes had ballooned in his skull after I cracked his head open. I can almost picture his head hitting the concrete over and over and over. His brain matter was all over my hands, staining my nails with his blood.
If I close my eyes tonight will his ghost haunt me?
Will his soul ask me why I took him from his lover so soon?
I blink and I’m no longer in that glorious gruesome memory.
I turn and Qimir is standing close to me, almost making me flinch. “Excuse you.” I snap at him. He looks me up and down and cocks his head to the side.
“I’m sorry, it’s just…you remind me of someone I once knew. The resemblance is just uncanny. You look…exactly like her.” He whispers softly as he takes in my entire appearance.
Instead of stepping back, his scent makes my stomach grumble which makes me flick my split tongue against my inner cheek.
“Trust me Qi, if you knew me…you wouldn’t be standing so close.” I say to him letting my split tongue slither past my full lips. I notice his eyes darken from my movement for a split second.
“Why is that? I find you quite the interesting creature.” He says as he reaches out to touch my coiled curl. I jerk my head back not from his attempt to touch me, but from his scent.
I want to split my jaw open and take a chunk out of him. His scent had changed somehow. He smells like spiced sweet fruit.
I see a smirk on his lips and I want to bite him. I want to bite his flesh and rip i-
“Excuse me?” We break eye contact and I see a woman, she looks exactly like the woman I had passed when I came in here but her hair…it’s short. And she smells… sour.
I grow bored with her and move away from Qimir. But as I move away he grabs my wrist. I look down at his hand and then at him. “Don’t go anywhere. I’d like to finish this.” He lets my hand go and he moved away from me swiftly.
I narrow my eyes at his back as he talks to the woman. As I glance at her with boredom I can smell that she’s anxious? Scared?
Oh, maybe I can have some fun with her after all.
As Qimir talks to her, which tells me something is going on, I run my hand along the counter and ‘accidentally’ bump into her, causing her things to clatter to the floor.
“Oh I’m so sorry, Miss. Do forgive me I am not myself.” We lock eyes and in that moment, she’s frozen in place. Her pupils dilate. I can hear her pulse quicken. “I..it’s okay.” She stutters as I hand her her things.
“You are so pretty.” I say as I take in her whole face. I see her blink a few times and I study her presence.
She’s nervous, hmm her body is smart to be nervous, but is her brain?
“Oh! I’m sorry, I give compliments before I even give my name. I’m Akasha. And you are?” I see the apple of her cheeks deepen in color after I compliment her.
“I’m-” She looks away from me and at Qimir but I clear my throat and she looks back at me, trapped in my spell. “I’m Osha.” She whispers with a small smile. “Such a pretty name. I don’t mean to over step, but would you like some company on your travels?” Before she answers me, Qimir clears his throat.
I cut my eyes at him and he’s staring at me, in a way that makes me want to challenge him. “I thought you wanted your things in a hurry, Akasha.” He says my name as if he’s accusing me of something .
“Suddenly I am in no rush, especially when it comes to making new friends.” I stand as well as Osha and I step towards her. Inhaling her fear.
Her scent is starting to ripen, oh I need to sink my teeth into her, before she spoils. Before she-
“Mae, if you don’t mind. I’m just handling this customer and then I can get back to you.”
Mae?
I look back at the woman and she looks down at her fingers, fidgeting with them.
“Okay, Qimir.” She says with hesitation in her voice. She looks at me and I wink at her. “So, pretty one, might I ask, what brings you to an apothecary?” I ask as I lean against the counter, looking her up and down.
I wonder how her teeth taste.
“I’m just here to thank Qimir for the item he gave me. It helped me greatly.” I listen to her pulse and it quickens.
Oh you little liar.
Now I’m excited to know why she’s lying so much.
“You’re welcome. I hope I can help anyway I can to help you please your Master.” Qimir says as I feel him behind me. I look back and he was leaning forward, playing with one of my curls.
How did I not notice him this close to me?
I flick my hair from his touch and he sniffs his finger tips.
Did he just sniff his fingers?
“Akasha, since you’re making friends, how about being my friend?” Qimir asks as he stares me deep into my eyes.
Hmmm…
“I like being friends with girls, Qimir. They’re are nice and sweet….” I look at his lips and I can imagine biting them.
“But with boys? I tend to be a bit too rough with them. And you?” I look him over his slim athletic build. “You look like you break easily.”
I see him lick his bottom lip and I swear I hear a slight groan in his throat. He then lowers his voice so only I can hear.
“You shouldn’t judge a book by its cover, Akasha. I tend to play rough with my things. Sometimes they break and sometimes they…turn to ash in my clutch.”
Excitement licks my veins as I inhale his scent.
Mmm it’s mixed with sweet, spice and arousal.
“Sounds like a threat, and a fun time. Maybe…” I lean in close to his ear, as he leans in to hear me. “…I can teach you how to play with your toys nicely by making you my new toy. Would you like that, Qi?” I flick my tongue against his ear and I hear a deep groan vibrate from his chest.
He’s about to answer me but Osha/Mae clears her throat and I feel both Qi and myself glare at her.
I look away and take a deep breath. “How about you talk to her and I’ll be back for my things. I have something to grab on that list that I know you don’t have here.” Before he can stop me I leave the shop and place my hood back upon my head.
••••
“I need Daroon moss for my special powder. Maybe if I’m lucky I can find some on the outer banks of this place.” I mutter as I continue to walk further into a crowd but my muscles tense as I feel I’m being followed.
Who would be stupid enough to follow me?
I decide to cut the chase short and duck further into the crowd.
They continue to follow me and that’s when I notice his scent.
The sweet spicy arousal.
I slip into an alleyway and I stand there counting as his scent get closer. That smell. If I were an addict, I would beg for a hit of that scent on a daily.
As soon as he is in arms reach I snatch him in close then push him to the ground. I then quickly take my boot and press it firmly against his throat.
“I don’t know about your other customers but I don’t like to be followed around stores or crowds.” I press down with a bit more pressure, just so he can answer me.
He winces in pain. “S….sorry. But I did…tell you I wanted…to finish this.” I go to step down harder but he grabs my ankle and twists, causing me to lose my footing.
He then pins me under him and I feel his full weight on top of me. “Get off of me.” I hiss. “Not until we finish this, conversation.”
“This conversation is over!“ I scream at him. He looks deep into my eyes and he gives me a wicked grin. “I’m sorry, but you seem to still think you have control of this situation. When clearly I’m the one on top. But I’ll be nice. The conversation will end after I tell you this…I’ve decided that I want you to be my new toy. And when I want something I take it.” I see a flash of something wild in his eyes as I feel his hands go for my throat.
His strength takes me by surprise as he starts cutting off my air supply. “Let…me…go!” I scream knowing it’ll cause at least someone to come find out why I’m screaming.
But…
No one comes.
Not even a curious onlooker.
He squeezes tighter and I try my best to fight him off. But it’s like an animal is wearing his skin and attacking me. I can feel him clearly aroused as he chokes me out on the ground.
Wait no, it can’t end this way.
I can’t die this way underneath this sick son of a bitch.
My vision starts to blacken around the corners. Qimir slowly starts to fog up into darkness, and just when I’m about to pass out, I hear him say these haunting words to me.
“You’re exactly what I’ve been looking for, Akasha, why would I ever let you go?”
•••••
I jerk awake and cough to clear my throat. I go to move except my body is tied up. But in a way that makes me look spread out like some attraction.
I glance around and see I’m somewhere unknown. And I’m completely naked. The panic starts to set in but it stops as soon as I smell his scent.
“QIMIR!” I scream his name as my eyes try to look for him. “I know you’re near! I can smell you! Show yourself!” I scream, in hopes that someone will hear me.
Someone did…
He did…
“I see you’re awake. Good.” Qimir says with a soft smile on his face. “What the fuck is going on! Where am I? Why and I here!” I shout at him, ignoring the cutting sensation from the ropes.
He pulls up a chair and sits down right in front of me. He stares at me as if I didn’t just ask him a barrage of questions. “You know you are a heavy sleeper. It was like I was dragging a dead body in here. Oh! This is my place by the way. It’s on a remote island so no one can disturb us.” He smiles big as if kidnapping me was something to be proud of.
“Why am I here?” I spat at him. Qimir looks at me as if I’m a piece of art to be gawked at. The way the ropes bite into my skin, I know they’ll leave marks and burns.
“Isn’t it obvious? You’re here because I want you here.” He brushes his thumb against his bottom lip and continues to stare…study me. I begin to feel uncomfortable under his gaze.
“Why am I tied up like this? I’m not some prized piece of meat!” He leans forward and strokes his hand against the fatty flesh of my thigh. “Because you look pretty….You are a female Venus Fly. Rare even when your people were alive and thriving. What was the ratio? For every fifteen boys, only three girls would be born. And I do like to collect rare things. But you? You, Akasha not only are you rare but you’re deadly. I have great use for you.”
I give him a bewildered look. “You’re fucking craz-” He gets up knocking the chair over and he had his hand gripping my jaw. “Don’t call me that, I’m not crazy. I see we have to start some lessons on teaching you how to have manners and respect for others.”
“GET OFF OF ME YOU BASTARD!” I scream at him, but all he does is smile. “You know now you’re screaming and yelling but soon you’ll worship me like a God. And I’ll be sure to reward you.” He takes his other hand and he trails his three fingers down my bare flesh, slowly getting closer to my exposed pussy.
“Stop.” I say as I feel him near my pubic hairs. “Do you know how much restraint I had to have, tying you up like this? The temptation I had to open this pretty little thing and slide anything it in just to watch your reaction?” He parts my wet lips and I feel my clit spasm.
“You wanted to sodomize me? You’re no better than-“ He makes me eat my words when he slides his middle finger inside of me while he uses his other two fingers to rub my lips.
My body responds to his touch which makes me angry. “S…stop.” I stutter to him. He leans in close to my ear. “Your lips are telling me to stop but these sets of lips seem to be telling me another story. As a matter of fact, how about her and I get better acquainted.”
Qimir slides his finger out of me and my pussy misses the violation. I see him get on his knees for me and he looks up at me, as if I’m a deity of some sort and he’s is there to worship.
I watch him lean in close to inhale my sex and I want to shrink back from him but in my attempts the ropes dig deeper into my skin.
“You smell so sweet, I wonder if the taste is the same.” He leans in and I feel his tongue flicking across my clit.
I clamp my lips shut to keep from moaning but he makes it a challenge as he grips my roped hips and buries his face deep into my pussy.
My eyes roll back as I feel his tongue twirl and flick across my clit. He presses his tongue flat against my pussy and my body tries to rock to find more friction.
“Careful, one false move and you could cause more rope burn, Akasha. But you like a little pain and pleasure don’t you?” Qimir asks as he opens my lips wider and slides his tongue deep inside of me.
This time I let the moan slip out. I feel him smiling against my sex and I don’t care. I need a release. I need to use his face.
“P…please.” I moan out as I look down at him, eating me out. He shakes his head and now he’s only using the tip of his tongue. “If…you…want something…then…say…Master.” He says lazily twirling his tongue.
“Please Master.” I whine. “I need to come.” He gives a deep guttural chuckle. “Look at you, moaning like a bitch in heat. I won’t forgive you for calling me crazy. But I’m not that cruel of a master.” He gives a hard suck to my clit causing me to groan and then he gets up off of his knees.
I was breathing heavy as I watch him grab something from his table.
A light saber.
My body tenses from the memories in my past of how much damage something like that can cause.
He lights it and the hue is blood red. He brings it close to me and I fight the urge to flinch. The heat from the saber could melt even the finest hairs on a person or animals skin.
“Don’t worry, my little flower. I’ll never use this part on you…just this part.” He turns the saber off and flips it so the handle it near me.
“Tell me, will you let me be your master? Will you let me teach you how to be the perfect predator?” As he asks me, I feel him rub the handle of the saber against my swollen clit and I shudder as I stupidly nod.
I don’t say a word from the fear and in his eyes I can tell he knows I’m afraid of the saber. “Akasha…you had a lot to say earlier. Why aren’t you being so colorful with your words now?” He slides the handle in slowly causing my eyes to roll back but my body stiffens again.
“Does this scare you? Does this give you pleasure?” He strokes the handle against my entrance and I let a nod go. “Pl-”
“Ah, what do you say?”
“Master…please. Don’t do that.” I moan out as he slides the handle in slowly. “Don’t do what? Slide the handle of my saber inside of the needy plump pussy? You don’t want me to make you feel good?” He whispers against my ear as his hand finds my throat.
The fear I have gets clouded when starts to slowly fuck me with the saber. I feel the build up in my lower stomach as I moan.
“See? Your body likes to feel good. It likes when I do this, but imagine how it’s going to feel when I use the real thing. When my cock is penetrating deep into your walls.”
He goes faster and my moans become more lose my from lips. My thighs burn from the rope and from the tension I have in them.
You can hear the wet noises coming from my soaking wet slit and I don’t care. I want a release.
“You’re taking it so well, my little flower. I bet you want to come don’t you?” I nod quickly as he slows down the pace. I try to buck my hips but I can’t from my restricting position. He raises a brow at me then. “Yes! Yes I do Master. Please!” I beg and plead.
He loosens his grip on my throat and he fucks me harder with the saber making my climax about to hit the tipping point.
“I’m gonna come.” I breathe out as I feel the anticipated tingle. But he stops, he yanks the saber out and tosses it across the room and I give out a shriek of frustration.
“Now would a crazy person deny a creature such as yourself the pleasure of coming? Don’t answer that, you might tell me the wrong answer and piss me off-” He grabs me by my tangled curls and yanks my head back, causing the rope around my shoulders and shoulder blades to tighten.
“You belong to me now, Akasha. Your pleasure, your pain, your very existence is mine. And when I see fit to let you come, it will be on my cock, my mouth, or my fingers. Do you understand? You can speak.” He orders as he looks me in my eyes.
“Yes.” I say through clenched teeth. “Yes what?” He asks with a raised brow. “Yes master…”
“Good girl.” He lets me go and kisses my temple. “Get some rest, we have some training to do tomorrow.” He lets me go and simply walks away, leaving me strung up like some prize that’s been won.
The very second I get the chance, I’m going to kill Qimir. I should’ve known that his scent would lead me to the devils playpen…
#wattsittoyah#the devil’s playpen#qimir the acolyte#manny jacinto#Qimir#qimir x reader#star wars#Qimir x Black!female reader#Qimir x Akasha#star wars smut#qimir smut#manny Jacinto smut
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By your side.
Part 5
Summary: You are the CEO of a big company and hired Lycaon as your personal attendant, however it seems that your wolfish butler has developed a crush on you. So while you and him were on a business trip, both of you were forced to confront your growing feelings for eachother.
Tag: Red Letter (Nsfw)
Minors DNI
Pairing: Von Lycaon x fem!reader (afab)
Disclaimer: This story is completely fictional and is not canon. You are responsible for the content you consume, so if the following warnings trigger you, you may read at your own risk.
Warnings: Smut, oral (giving+receiving), deepthroating, face fucking, unprotected sex, pinning, biting(like a lot), a bit possesiveness, mating press, breeding kink, creampie, multiple rounds, reader and lycaon are dirty minded, lycaon is a service top, mentions of blood, shower sex, some small fluff.
(Please inform me if I have forgotten any)
Other warnings: lowkey my first fanfiction, so bare with me here. (T^T)
This part is once again a bit longer than the others.
This fic contains a lot of scenarios written in Lycaons pov cuz i eat this shit up for breakfast
I apologize for any mistakes you may find. Constructive criticism is always appreciated. Honestly i really gotta do some self-reflecting after this part. The fact that my mind was actually able to come up with something so grafic shocks me a bit.
Once again, this part contains explicit sexual themes. Minors DNI!!
Enjoy!
"Master, please allow me to make love to you" Lycaon was suprised by his own confidence.
He hoped he hadn't misjudged the situation. The seconds of silence between you two felt like hours, but he kept eye contact with you. Finally you spoke, barely above a whisper "please do" and he let out a sigh of relieve as he dove straight back to kissing you, unzipping your dress as he did so.
He felt immense satisfaction course through his veins like hot lava when he drank in the sight of you as his clawed fingers found the clasp of your bra. You put a hand on his shoulder, gently halting his actions, he looked concerned for a second, wondering if he had overstepped a line already "Is something the matter? We can stop if y-" he started but you interrupted him "no I want to continue it's just" you reached for his cheek again and he leaned into your touch "I just want to make sure this is what you want too, I don't wan't to preassure you into anything, to make you feel like you owe it to me" he chuckled as he gently grabbed your hand, slowly guiding it from his cheek down to his exposed chest.
His fur was as soft as silk as your fingers ran over his pecks, down to his abs, and stopped at his clothed crotch. You blushed as you felt his straining errection through his pants "I hope this is enough of an answer" he replied playfully, groaning as you gave his bulge a little squeeze.
He stood up suddenly, leaving you confused for a second, but when he pulled you to the edge of the sofa and got on his knees, his intentions became very clear to you. He hooked his fingers under the straps of your panties as he once again found your gaze, silently asking for permission to continue - to cross that line.
You nodded, and he pulled your panties off, gently spreading your legs. His mouth began to water when he looked at your pussy, his tail thumping against the ground to visualize his growing excitement as he licked your inner thigh. Slowly getting closer to where you needed him. You yelped a bit when he moved your legs up to your chest, gently holding them in place. Your eyes remained fixxed on him, shivering a bit when you felt his breath against your exposed sex.
He started slow, planting a tender kiss against your clit before licking a long stripe up your folds, immediately making you see stars, his groans of satisfaction turning you on even more. He circled your clit with his tongue before spredding your glistening folds, pushing his tongue inside. You let out a loud moan and it made his cock even harder as he ate you out like a beast starved, feeling the way your walls moved around his tongue. You tried to move your legs, wanting to wrap them around his face, but to no avail. There was no fighting his iron grip, all you could do was watch him as he tongue fucked you, sometimes pulling out to suck on your clit. He felt you twitch with every movement of his tongue inside your pussy, completely lost in the act of pleassuring you "Lycaon wait I'm close" you said but it didn't fully register to him. He pushed your legs down harder, practically immobilizing you as he picked up his pace.
He wanted you to cum, he wanted you to cum all over his tongue, he wanted to make you scream from pleassure. And so you did, as your orgasm hit you full force. You burried your fingers in Lycaon's hair, pulling him even closer to your pussy as he obidiently swallowed everything you gave him. You shook as he continued to lick your puffy folds, seemingly to pussy drunk to think straight "Lycaon wait" you almost sobbed, but he didn't seem to hear you, continuing to suck on your overstimulated clit. "its too much" you said, gently pulling on his hair to get his attention. Finally he seemed to return to reality, ceasing the assault on your poor cunt. "Apologies, it seems i got carried away" he responded and you pulled him up by his collar so he was ontop of you, crashing your lips against his and tasting the remnants of your climax on his tongue. "OK, your turn" you responded, motioning him to get up and sit down.
He felt nervousness bubble up again as you positioned yourself between his spread legs. His tail continued to thump excitedly against the sofa as you unbuckled his belt. "May I?" You ask and he swallowed "you may" he responded, giving you the permission you needed. You pulled his pants down, freeing his cock from its confines as it slapped against his lower abdomen. Your eyes widened as you took in his sheer size "please, don't force yourself to take it, i don't want you to hurt yourself" he replied, feeling a strange sense of pride as he watched you marvel at his cock. "Can I still try?" You asked him so innocently, carefully wrapping a hand around his shaft, and who was he to deny you what was yours "its all yours" he replied, gently caressing your head, hissing when your tongue made contact with the head of his cock. His gaze never left your form, carefully watching all of your movements as you tongue ran over his weeping tip. He let out a moan when you put it fully in your mouth, and that gave you the confidence boost you needed. Slowly you swallowed his full member, trying not to gag as he moved down your throat. Lycaon was in awe as he watched you, you actually managed to take him completely, his cock twitched in response to his suprise, and he thinks he has fallen even harder in love with you. Slowly you bopped you head, circling your tongue around his member "are you alright he asked?" Through heavy breathing "I'm ok don't worry" you replied and he gritted his teeth when you began pumping his cock with your hand. You knew he was close, and you were ready to get payback for earlier.
You picked up your pace, fondling his balls with one hand, while the other continued to stroke him as you sucked on the head of his cock. His moans got louder, and you could hear his claws tearing through the material of the sofa "wait master I'm- " he started, and you used the oppertunity to take the reigns "cum" you comanded and he threw his head back, obeying immediately. Thick ropes of cum shot out of his cock while you mercilessly continued to jerk him off, his moans only adding fuel to your fire. Slowly he came down from his orgasm, twitching a bit when you gave his cock an experimental squeeze, noting how hard he still was.
It seems your Wolf was not yet done for the night, the thought of which excited you.
He looked at you "how do you feel?" You asked him "amazing" he responded, still trying to catch his breath. You once again stradeled his lap, gently grinding on his still overstimulated cock. You yelped in suprise when he picked you up, carrying you bridal style to his bedroom. He carefully layed you down on the soft sheets before he got on top of you again. He looked at you with a pleading expression, and you raised an eyebrow. You knew exactly what he wanted, but you wanted to hear it out of his mouth "what do you need, tell me" you said, and he leaned foreward, whispering into your ear "please let me fuck you" you gripped the sheets as he gently nibbled on your ear. You summoned all the courage you could muster "go on then" you said, moving your head to the side to give him full access to your shoulder and neck. He looked at you for a moment, as if questioning if you ment what he was thinking. You gently carassed his jaw, cautiously sticking your thumb into his maw, tracing his bottom fangs as you confirmed his thoughts "make me yours."
It was as if a switch was turned in Lycaon's head as he once again pinned you down, licking over the tender flesh of your neck.
Words can't describe how badly he wanted this.
He carefully opened his mouth, and you shuddered when you felt his canines ghost over your skin, an apology left his lip before he dug them into your shoulder. You yelped as you felt him suck on your skin, the small sting of pain making you even more drenched than before. He licked over your fresh bite mark, the taste of iron strong on his tongue as he gently carassed your thigh as another small apology for biting you so hard. Even though he secretly hoped it would leave a permanent mark.
You got on your hands an knees as he carefully brought his cock to your pussy, his tip nudging at your entrance. Your hands twisted into the sheets in anticipation, something he seemed to notice "tell me if it hurts and I will stop immediately" he said and you nodded. Your mouth fell open as you felt him slowly penetrating you, inch by inch "half way in already, almost there" he spoke through gritted teeth, your pussy having his cock in a strangle hold already.
Finally he bottomed out inside you, hitting that spot that turned your vision to static. You felt so deliciously full, and were embarassed by how close you once again were, even though he just put it in. Lycaon, ever so attentive, seemed to realize without you having to voice it, keeping still to give you time to adjust to him. He felt like he was in heaven, your pussy felt so warm and soft around his throbbing member.
He wanted to make you cum on his cock, to pleasure you even better than earlier, better than how you've ever been pleasured before. He wanted to fuck you so good that you'd never desire anyone else but him.
You wiggled your hips, giving him the sign to start moving. Slowly he pulled out almost all the way before pushing back in, your eyes started to water at the corners. You couldn't believe your luck that this was actually happening, and neither could he.
Lycaon gently carassed your back as he picked up his pace a little. He reached one of his hands down, taking one of your breasts in his hand. He was messmerized by how soft it was as he started to play with your nipple. His hand continued to trail down your body, finding your clit as he rupped gentle circles against it. He stopped for a moment, carefully repositioning himself, as he pressed his chest to your back. He sucked on your other shoulder, finally giving you all the hickeys he wanted to give you for so long. He wanted to litter your body with hickeys, you'd look so pretty covered in them from head to toe.
He felt you clench around him, it seems you were getting close again. He picked up his pace again, the squelching sounds of your cunt filling the room, fully capturing his attention. Your grip on the sheets tightened "faster please, it feels so good" you called out to him, and he wouldn't make you ask twice "as you wish master." He laced his fingers with yours as he started plowing into you at a volatile pace, your voice filling the room as you screamed his name. He already loved the way it sounded on your tongue, but hearing you scream it drove him almost mad. "Your cock feels amazing oh my god!" You praised, and he felt your pussy squeeze his dick harder, you were about to cum. "Please bite me again" you pleaded brokenly, tilting your head to expose you other shoulder, and he obliged, plunging his teeth into your tender skin. His tail wagged violently as he thrived on you allowing him to freely mark you like this, mark you so everyone knew you belonged with him.
You brokenly cried out his name as you came again, soiling the bedsheets beneath you, and he halted his movement, moaning at how tightly your cunt was holding onto him as he gently rubbed your clit through your orgasm. Lapping on your shoulder, he waited for you to come down from your high before gently speaking up "are you ok? Do you need a break?" He asked you, carefully running his hands up and down your thigh "please don't stop, you haven't cum yet" you told him, you looked over your shoulder and met his gaze "fuck me more please" you asked him, and he smiled at you, pressing a loving kiss to your neck "anything for you master."
He pulled out of you and you wanted to object, but your words got stuck in your throat as he turned you on your back, and put you into a mating press before quickly entering you again "please scream my name some more" he asked politely before continuing his volatile pace. His cock was so deep inside you, you could feel the tip of his cock kiss your cervix with every punishing yet delicious thrust. It almost made you go insane, it didn't take long until you came again. You screamed out his name again as you came on his cock, your release squirting out, and drenching him. You could hear his balls slapping your ass while he continued to fuck you through your orgasm, and the impossible tightness of your cunt, sloppily kissing you to swallow all of your noises. He broke the kiss, and licked the tears off your face, thinking how pretty you were even when you were completely fucked out.
Lycaon couldn't tolerate a mess, but he started to love making a mess out of you.
He buried his face in your neck again, feeling himself slowly getting closer to his own climax. He felt his balls tighten as he started to moan louder, notifying you that he was going to finish soon "please let me cum in you y/n" he pleaded, and you let out an especially loud moan after you heared him call you by your name "let me breed your pussy please" he pleaded again, burying his head in your neck, desperate to fill you to the brim with his seed. You crossed your legs behind his back just above the base of his tail, catching his attention before you whispered in his ear "breed me Lycaon" which completely send him over the edge. After a few final strong thrusts, he pressed his cock as deep inside you as he could, drowning your womb with his cum, as your Name kept falling from his lips like a sinful chant. You felt the warmth of his seed as he throbbed and pulsed inside you. Your gaze landed on the Wolf thiren above you, mesmerized by his expression, by his half lidded eye, and his parted lips as he tried to catch his breath, revealing his pearl white fangs in a silent snarl. Clearly he enjoyed himself just as much if not even more than you did.
Lycaon himself was almost drooling from the sensation as he continued to pump his cum into your fluttering pussy. This was by far the most intense orgasm he has ever had in his entire life, nothing could ever compare to it. Especially not his hand when he would stroke himself to the thought of you underneath him like you were right now. You wrapped your arms around his neck while he came down from his high. You could feel his cock still throbbing inside your cunt, realizing that he was still painfully hard despite having cum twice already. He grabbed your hips before gently sitting both of you up, you brokenly moaned as his cock sank deeper inside you. You took in his disheveled appearence, it instantly reminded you of that night as you voiced out what you've been thinking the entire time "you're beautiful", your voice barely above a whisper. Lycaon let out a small whine as he started to slowly thrust up into you, kissing you apologetically as he tried to muffle your screams from being overstimulated. "I'm sorry, just one more load I promise" he told you, his cock squelching through the load he had already filled you with. He took one of your nipples in his fanged mouth, his canines gently tracing against the sensitive bud as he sucked on it "I'm close" you told him and he kissed you again. The kiss was sloppy and desperate, a mess of teeth and tongues as you both chased your final releases for the night. Your orgasm hit you like a truck, stronger than any other orgasm you had earlier, and you stopped thinking. Your head couldn't form a single coherent thought, and in the heat of the moment you opened your mouth, biting Lycaon's shoulder as hard as you could. It caught him off guard, and he grabbed your ass as he mercilessly impaled you on his length, his voice cutting through the fog in your mind as he repeated the same sentence over, and over "I love you y/n". Finally he let out a loud moan filling you once again to the brim with his release as you clamped down on his cock, milking him for all he's worth. But it was too much, and his cum slowly dripped out of your pussy as it ran down his pulsing shaft. Both of you breathed heavily as he looked at his shoulder, small red spots forming from your bite mark, and that was the moment he knew he had to marry you, no questions asked.
He gently layed your exhausted body down into the unsoiled sheets, wanting to get up in order to clean you both up, but you stopped him "stay" he turned his attention to you "we can clean up tomorrow" you said, your voice heavy with sleep, and exhaustion. He smiled lovingly, carefully lying down next to you as he pulled you into his soft embrace, his length however remained buried in you. He kissed your head, thanking you for letting him share this experience with you as the sensation of his soft fur slowly lulled you to sleep.
---~---
Sunlight found its way through the parted curtains. Slowly your eyes cracked open, still heavy with sleep as your eyes fell on Lycaon, the Wolf thiren himself was still fast asleep. You reached a hand up, first caressing his cheek, and then slowly moving up to his ears, gently petting them, and gushing over how incredibly soft they were. You moved your hand to scratch behind his ear, and he let out a satisfied little grumble as his hold on you tightened ever so slightly. You heared his tail thumping against the mattress as you intently listened to the little sounds he made, only to be interupted by a familiar stretch as you felt his cock harden again. You stopped for a moment unsure of what to do now. You didn't want to wake him, he deserved his rest after how well he had fucked your brains out last night. Your hand ran down his chest again, gently groping his peck as you moved lower, letting your hands run over his defined abs. You bit your lip, slowly moving your hips while your hand continued to roam his body. You looked at his expression, noting how he furrowed his brow to the sensation of you fucking yourself on his morning wood. He moaned quietly as you tried to take him even deeper, moving your hand around to first run down his back, and then mischeviously grabbed a handfull of his ass.
You eyes fell on his eyepatch, and his muzzle, as you realized that he hadn't taken them off before he fell asleep. You couldn't help your curiousity from invading your mind, wanting to once again see him without them. Only this time you wanted to look at him properly. You pondered if you should ask him about it once he woke up, not realizing that the moment you thought about was just upon you. You halted your hip's movement when you felt his hand grab your thigh, gently kneading it "I wish you a good morning as well" he spoke, his voice low and filled with sleep. "M-morning" you said, feeling a tad bit embarassed that he had caught you red handed like this, even though you've been playing a risky game from the start, knowing that the sensation of your velvet walls could always break his slumber. "Sorry" you apologized, and he huffed feeling like teasing you a bit "what are you apologizing for master?" He asked, kissing you on the crown of your head. "You know... for..." you said, hoping he would understand what you ment without you having to voice it. But he deleberately played dumb, something you noticed "I'm sorry it seems I don't quite follow" he said, and you shot him a little glare "I'm sorry for... grinding myself on you" your face now almost the same shade of red as his eye. Truth is, he had been awake for much longer than you, silently admiring you. As he felt you fucking yourself on his dick, he had no intention of stopping you, why would he? You were just so precious.
He lifted your head with his fingers, kissing you deeply. You moaned as your tongue moved against his, wanting to continue grinding against him, but his firm grip stopped you. You hoped that he'd once again fuck you stupid like last night, the fire in your stomach igniting, and setting your nerves ablaze. But Lycaon had other plans, as he broke the kiss, and slowly unseathed himself, you moaned at the sudden feeling of emptiness. You made him aware of your discontent, wanting to keep going but he just smiled, and pressed another kiss to your head before he got out of bed.
He was teasing you, you knew it. Sure, you were suprised that he had it in him, but you also knew that this was a game both of you could play. He scratched the back of his neck as he made his way towards the bathroom, he turned his head wanting to give you another glance. Instead, stopping dead in his tracks as his eye fell between your thighs again. He watched as his cum began to slowly leak from your core, and he could feel a tinge of discontent shoot through his brain, a feeling he could neither describe nor pinpoint. Its supposed to stay inside, he thought as he watched you reach down to your pussy, scooping up his release on your fingers, and pushing them back inside your heat. His mouth watered again as he watched you finger yourself, while you watched his hand gently stroking his once again erect cock. Suddenly you stopped, and he fought with himself not to pummel you, but instead he cleared his throat, realizing that he had totally fallen for your trick. "We should get cleaned up" you said, closing your legs and breaking his trance "right" he responded shortly, making his way over to you "one moment I'll help you" he picked you up gently, carrying you to the adjacent bathroom.
He put you down on your wobbly legs, as you held onto the sink in order not to fall over. Unfortunately neither his nor your bathroom had a bathtub, both having admittedly very spacious showers instead. He turned the shower on, holding his hand under the water to set it to the right temperature, hoping that it wasn't to hot for you. Against popular beliefe, Lycaon very much enjoyed hot showers and baths in contrast to the Ice he operated with in combat. You watched him as he got on one knee, reaching out one of his hands for you to take, patting his left thigh with the other as a silent invitation for you to sit on it. The warm water, and Lycaon's hands felt good as he gently massaged your sore body "last night was beyond amazing" you spoke, leaning your head against his shoulder "I'm very glad you enjoyed it" he replied, and you could hear the smile on his face.
You once again noticed that, dispite being in the shower, he was still wearing his eyepatch and muzzle. "Can I ask you something" you started, running your hands up and down his soaked back "of course, anything" he replied, rubbing your bodywash on your back. "Can you take your those off?" You asked, running a finger over the leather of his muzzle. He halted his movement for a moment, and your heart hammered against your rip cage. "Of course you don't have to if you don't want to, I didn't mean to pry" you rambled, thinking that your curiousity had offended him. Lycaon however thought that it was now well enough time that he would show you, to place the same trust in you that you placed in him. He put a finger to your lips, gently shushing you before he sat you down in front of him. His fingers moved to undo the clasps of his eyepatch - to remove the last wall he had build up.
He put both to the side, now being fully exposed to you, not just physically, but also emotionally. "Just be warned that it is rather... unpleasant to look at" he said. You gently took his hand in yours as you looked at him "May I?" You asked, and he nodded, understanding what you ment "please do" he replied as you moved your hand towards his face, gently brushing his hair to the side to take a proper look at him.
His left eye was rendered shut indefinetly as it was covered by a giant scar, another smaller cross shaped scar having its place on his right, atop his muzzle. He studied your expression, trying to discipher it, as your fingers traced over his scars. Normally he would have recoiled, not even he himself touched it often, the memory of its creation still too painful for him to fully confront. But your touch felt... nice, very nice. His voice broke the silence as it bounced of the shower walls "I want to tell you about me" he started "I love you, and you deserve to know..." he carassed your cheek "...to know who I was." You stayed silent while you listened to him, rubbing soothing circles on his hand as he spoke. He told you about his criminal past as a thief for Mockingbird, his then partner, the betrayal, and about how he chose to leave this life behind to change for the better. His gaze wandered down to his legs, and he swallowed thickly. It has been a long while since he had last talked with someone about this part of him. "I- uh... in regards to my legs" he stammered, his discomfort about the topic clearly written across his face. You reached out to him, giving him a peck on his nose, the sudden act of affection making him halt his explination "I'm so proud of you" you said, caressing over the small scar on his muzzle "and I'm grateful for the trust you place in me, I swear I'll honor it" you place a hand on his mechanical knee, the water had made it warm to the touch compared to the metallic coldness it normally displayed "if you're not ready to talk about it yet, that's absolutely alright" his ears dropped a little in dissapointment, less towards you and more towards himself "I'm sorry" he said quietly but you just caringly shook your head "there is no need, I feel very happy that you told me about yourself" you replied, and leaned in close, letting your lips ghost over his "I love you too Lycaon" your lips connected with his, a kiss so gentle and so full of love Lycaon feels all his worries melt away in the warmth of the moment, and your affection. He deepened the kiss his tongue finding its way once again into your mouth. You moaned into the kiss, a sound that he loved so much "you're eager" you said after breaking the kiss to catch your breath "is it alright if we continue where we last left of?" He asked, kneading your inner thigh with his hand. His cock once again stood at full attention, ready and eager to please you, just like him. You gently took his length in your hand, running your thumb over his, already precum leaking tip "i'd love to" you said giving it a few pumps "If you let me suck you off again" you told him, a mischievous smirk on your face, an expression he actually mirrors "if you let me eat you out again" he replies.
a few minutes later, Lycaon stood in the shower, leaning himself with his arm against the shower wall, shielding you from the downpour as you sucked on his cock. His free hand gently combed through your hair as your tongue ran over the head of his cock. He couldn't help but think of how you had sucked him off yesterday, the image of you taking his cock balls deep was still fresh, and remained so unbelievable hot to him. Would you do that again if he asked you? "Master wait a second" he placed a hand on the top of your head, gaining your attention "what's wrong?" You asked, and his hand returned to comb through your hair "everything is alright, I would just... like to try something if you're alright with that" you perked up at his proposal "absolutely! What did you have in mind" you asked him, teasingly slapping his dick against your cheek, enjoying his reaction as he watched you "can you do it like yesterday?" He asked, and you understood. Of course his reaction to you deepthroating him yesterday hadn't been lost on you, and you smiled up at him "of course" you said, rubing his stomach. Without further ado you took him back in your mouth, enjoying his moaning as you once again shoved his impressive length down your throat. You let out a little noise of surprise as he slowly started to move his hips back, and forth "I'm sorry, is this ok?" He asked, you giving him a playfull thumbs up as he gently facefucked you. He ever so slightly picked up his pace, and you knew he was gonna cum soon "I'm going to cum soon master" he warned you, originally wanting to pull out before he climaxed, but before he could you reached around him, grabbing the base of his tail. A little yelp escaped him as he looked down at you, understanding the look on your face instantly. He nodded in a little silent "ok" before he started moving again, his breathing becoming more rugged with every thrust "I'm coming" he said, flooding your mouth. He looked at you as you swallowed his load, completely starstruck and in awe.
You were beyond perfect.
He gently removed his still twitching member from your mouth, leaning down to capture you in a sloppy kiss. Tasting his release on your tongue just like you had done yesterday, and it drove him feral. "Your turn" He said, breaking the kiss, and made you stand up "wait, my legs are still weak" you said but he told you not to worry before he leaned you against the wall, putting your legs on either side of his head before diving between them without warning. He wasted no time lapping on your folds, and sucking on your clit, your moans only seeming to encourage him more. You were close, and grabbed a fistfull of his hair, grinding against him as you came closer, and closer to the edge. But before you could finish, he pulled away, giving your inner thigh a little bite. You looked down, making eyecontact with him. Originally you wanted to ask him why he stoped, but he spoke before you "please look at me when you cum" he said, licking your inner thigh. You nodded in agreement, and he dove back between your legs, continuing his assault. Finally you toppled over the edge as you came, once again grabbing a fistfull of his wet hair, grinding yourself against his face. You moaned loudly as you watched him swallow your release without breaking eyecontact. You let go of his hair, gently smoothing it down as a silent apology. He placed a small kiss against your clit, and you shuddered "May I continue please?" He asked you while he carassed your thighs "yes you may, but not in this position" you breathed out, and he obliged. Carefully laying you down in the shower. He gently took hold of your hips, elevating them to bring your pussy closer to his mouth before he started to once again pleasure you with it. In this lewd position you could see even more clearly what he did to you, as you watched him tonguefuck you again. Dispite all that, he kept eyecontact with you, gobbeling up all the expressions that your face made as he worked your body. You didn't last long "I-I'm gonna cum again!" You said, reaching for his hand to hold onto. He laced his fingers with yours as another orgasm hit you, some of your release dripping onto your chest. Lycaon carefully lowered your hips before getting on top of you. Your eyes remained fixed on him while he licked up the remnants of your cum from your titts, taking one of your nipples in his mouth to suck on it. He ran his tongue over your left nipple before he released it with a popp, and switched his attention to the other "do you wish to continue?" He asked, pumping his cock which you noticed "yes I do" you replied. He gave you a quick kiss before sitting back, making you straddle his lap, his cock twitching against your cunt "this way you can direct the pace" he told you. You grabbed behind you, taking his cock in your hand before guiding it to your entrance. Slowly you lowered yourself on him, his own eyes entranced by how your pussy swallowed his member "just a little bit more, you got this" he told you before your hips met his. His dick now fully sheathed inside you again.
You carefully started bouncing on his cock, holding onto his shoulders for support as you moaned in unison. You threw your head back in pleasure, and he found his attention once again drifting to your beautiful breasts. The way they bounced up and down seeming to hypnotize him, as he leaned foreward to once again suck on your left nipple, kneading the other one with his hand. Your pace slowly stagnated, and he looked up at you "do you need a break master?" He asked concerned, watching your chest rise and fall with every breath you took. You leaned foreward, brushing his hair to the side again before placing a gentle kiss on his scar "I ment what I said last night" you spoke through deep breaths "you're beautiful" you carassed his cheek, and he leaned into your touch. You then leaned foreward to whisper into his ear "so please, ravage me again like you did last night."
You yelped in surprise as Lycaon grabbed your ass before abruptly standing up, with you still impaled on his cock. He pressed you with your back against the shower wall, kissing your forehead before he spoke "your wish is my command" with that he fucked into you at a brutal, and demanding pace, the small drops of water that came out of the shower head bounced right off his back. "You make me feel so good, so happy" he babbled, already completely pussydrunk as he ground his cock against your cervix, wanting to make you scream his name again. And that you did, holding onto his shoulders for dear life, as if he would vanish if you let go. You burried your face in his neck, telling him over, and over how much you loved him, his tail wagging in pure ecstasy at your declaration. "I-I'm close, I'm close again!" You cried out to him "I'm close as well" he whsipered in your ear "do you want me to pull out?" He asked, licking over your neck, feeling how quick your pulse was "no, please don't pull out!" You said, his moaning getting louder at your pleading "please cum inside me again!" he picked up his pace even more, hammering his cock into you.
If you wanted him to fill you pretty pussy with his seed again, who was he to deny his perfect mate her wish.
He was ripped out of his thoughts by a familiar sensation on his shoulder, noticing you biting him again. His heart swelled at the act of you marking him - making him yours.
And this time he followed your lead, as he leaned in, and bit your shoulder again, his fangs punching right through your tender skin. The overwhelming satisfaction shooting like electric currents through his veins, as he fully indulged in his instincts. The little voice in his head repeating the same word over, and over.
Mine. Mine. Mine. Mine. Mine.
The sting of pain sending you over the edge, clawing you hands in the fur at the back of his neck as you clamped down on his dick. Lycaon moaned loudly, still needing a little push for his own climax. He felt his balls tighten again as he fucked you through your orgasm, finally arriving at his own. After one last final thrust, he fully burried his cock in you, filling your womb with pulse after pulse of warm cum. He felt a tad bit light headed as he kept filling you with so much cum, it oveflowed from your poor abused cunt and splashed against the tiles of the shower.
Both of you remained in this position for a while, breathing heavily while you slowly recovered from the intense orgasms that had ravaged your bodies. You held eachother close, as Lycaon ran his tongue over your bite mark, licking up the small pearls of red forming on it "I can't feel my legs" you chuckled, and he followed short. He slowly pulled out, sitting you down on the warm tiles of the shower before kneeling in front of you "I'm sorry, it seems I've bitten you to hard" he carefully ran his wet fingers over your wounded shoulder, still silently marveling at how it looked on you. You leaned your head against Lycaon's chest while he carefully cleaned you, apologetically kissing your bite mark. "Are you alright?" He asked you, his hand running up and down your back. More so to soothe his own concern. "It's quite alright" you respond, being cut off by the grumbling of your stomach "just very hungry" he chuckled again "I will prepare breakfast as soon as we're cleaned up."
After getting both of you, and the shower cleaned up, he turned off the water. He opened a window to rid the bathroom of the steam the hot shower had filled it with, wondering how much time had passed while you two had indulged in eachother. Looking around he noticed the small droplets of water clinging to the walls, the mirror, and the furniture. A small drop of water fell on his nose, sighing as he noticed the condensed water dripping from the ceiling lamp. He definetly had some cleaning to do before both of you departed tomorrow.
His eye fell on your tired form in his arms, and he smiled.
But that had time, right now he wanted to make sure you were alright. After drying both of you off he placed you back on the bed, scavenging the room for his boxers while you had once again drifted off to sleep. Lycaon made his way towards the living room to pick up his pants he had abandoned there yesterday, his eye falling on the stains on the sofa cushion, and the carpet. Those stains were by no means difficult to get rid off, the problem was the big claw shaped tear in it, the wadding starting to pool out of it. He cringed, running his hand through his hair as he wondered how he would explain the damage to the owner.
--~--
Part 4 ->
To be continued ->
I hope you enjoyed this part. It was definetly shocking to me that my mind was able to come up with something so grafic, but life is to short to think about if something is cringe or not. Lastly I want to inform you that I'll probably close this Story off with a shorter epilogue. After that I will upload a masterlist with all parts on my Blog for easy accessibility. In the coming days I will inform you about the projects I have planned for the future. I hope you stay tuned for that.
-Elio
#lycaon x reader#von lycaon#von lycaon x reader#zzz von lycaon#zzz x reader#zzz x you#smut#furry#x reader#werewolf x reader#werewolf x human
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One Shots:
please be sure to read the tags and author's note before reading. Some of my stories may contain triggering material. Always read the tags and the author's notes.
say (don't go) - Alex storms the castle, Henry doesn't tell him to stay 4.1K
if you don't know (let me go) - Alex leaves this time 2.1K
break up with your girlfriend (cause I'm bored) - Alex and Nora are Henry's new coworkers, but Henry is mistaken and jealous 3K
under the mistletoe - Henry's flight home is cancelled, so he spends Christmas in Austin with Alex's family, friends to lovers 2.2K
countdown to midnight - New Year's Eve at the shelter 1.2K
kiss me, and tell me that I'll see you again - Alex and Henry meet at a gay bar, and are each other's NYE kiss 2K
how would you feel if I told you I loved you? - Henry loves Alex, and confesses anonymously. Until it's no longer anonymous. 3.3K
I think I'm falling for you - Henry goes to singles night at the skating rink for Valentine's Day, where he meets Alex 2.8K
is it cool that I said all that? (is it chill that you're in my head?) - Alex admits his feelings for Henry, and it doesn't initially go how he planned 1.6K
pay attention (gyms are dangerous) - Henry sees Alex doing hip thrusts at the gym, based on THAT video 1.9K
(you can start) a family who will always show you love - Henry joins the Diaz family easter and experiences confetti eggs for the first time 2.1K
I promise that I'll love you for the rest of my life - based on Black and White by Niall Horan, friends to lovers 1.5K
there's a fire inside of you (that can't help but shine through) - Alex is a witch with a fire affinity, and he runs a metaphysical shop with June and Nora 10.1K
when it all melts down, I'll be there - based on meltdown by Niall Horan
easy for you to say (harder for me to take) - Henry tells Alex to leave, and their reunion 4 months later is not what either of them expected 3.3K
black box warning - based on the song Black Box Warning by Leanna Firestone 2.7K
all along there was some invisible string (tying you to me) - brownstone server summer switcharoo prompt: "the issue here is that you think I'm not head over heels in love with your dumb fucking ass." 2.3K
right place (at the right time) - former poetry author Henry writes his first novel and meets Alex at the book signing. 1.4K
(I'm scared I'm going to) wreck this - Alex and Henry have matching Wreck This journals 2.5K
so high school - Henry is dating the captain of the rival school's lacrosse team, but nobody believes he has a boyfriend. 5.2K
and if you're on fire, I'll be made of ashes too - Alex is a firefighter, Henry is a paramedic. Tragedy strikes. 11K
you can make me a drink - Alex is a bartender, Henry becomes a regular. 3.3K
#alex claremont-diaz#red white and royal blue#rwrb#henry fox mountchristen windsor#alex claremont diaz#firstprince#prince henry rwrb#rwrb fanfic#rwrb fanfiction#acd
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🌻 Actual tips for edtwt 🌻
🌻 Reblogs aren't the same thing as retweets. Post ''threads'' exist, but it's rare to have one person reblog their own post.
🌻 DMing people without asking is normally pretty rude, and not a lot of people are familiar with the DM system on here (called messaging) - there's been a lot of creeps on here in the past, so be cautious in messages.
🌻 People post their general thoughts in tags, so where you'd retweet and write your thoughts in the tweet then add hashtags - here it all happens in tags.
🌻 Most people have their intros and stats either in their bios or as their pinned post - the ''unpinning at x weight'' trend doesn't really exist here.
🌻 On desktop, you can customise your blog and add your own code, themes ect. it's really fun and a good time killer, but be aware all blogs look the same on mobile.
🌻 A bunch of features (search, post archiving ect.) have been broken for years. Don't worry, it isn't just you.
🌻 ED tags change every so often, but ''edblr'' has been the main tag for YEARS now. If you ever get lost, searching that and then clicking around will help you find active tags. The blue butterfly emoji has also been a backup tag for a while now, but the whole ''ricecaketwt'' ''lemonwatertwt'' thing doesn't have a tumblr equivalent.
🌻 If you click the three dots on the side of a post, you can see what date and time the post was made - it's perfectly normal here to reblog, like and respond to old posts.
🌻 Posting pictures of s/h is okay, but please make sure it's tagged properly. Tumblr has it's own tagging system, but it has to have a trigger warning for that to work.
🌻 If you're on desktop, downloading XKit rewritten is a massive time saver - it allows you to automatically add tags, blur out pics (eg thinspo) so you need to click on them, and a bunch of other useful things.
🌻 ''Thinspo imagines'' exist on here, which are basically short stories about what it would be like to be at your UGW in various situations. They're tagged as such, and some of them can be a little cheesy, but still really cute and often motivating.
🌻 For male anas and ftm/transmasc anas, the tags for that are as follows ''trans ana'' ''ftm ana'' ''male ana'' ''nb ana'' ''malespo/malesp0'' - pretty self explanatory.
🌻 There's no word count, but if you're writing a really long post, it's normally good manners to put a ''read more'', just so it doesn't clog up people's dashboards.
🌻 The concept of moots doesn't really exist - there are mutuals, but it's a lot more casual and there's no expectation for you to actually interact with your mutuals personally, aside from liking and reblogging some of their posts.
Last of all, have fun guys! This is a terrible disorder but we're all trying to get through it as best we can. Stay away from people who try and be creeps, give dangerous advice, or condescend you for coming from a different platform. Be safe and feel free to ask any questions you might have 🌻
#Thinspo#tw ed#I wanna be weightless#edtwt#edblr#edblrr#ed no sheeran#thinsp0#ana#tw ana diary#ed diary#4na#4n4#malespo#male ana#ftm ana
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tasm!peter parker fic recs
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/30ff28b93125546caded7004190659d7/bb557612c6b6ee6c-4a/s540x810/b0e3b2ca8447fe8f84b684e91c5a14b07b268a44.jpg)
you are responsible for the content you consume‼️
✧*:·˚ hi everyone!! here is a list of all the fics that are my favs with tagged writers/authors ✧*:·˚
✧*:·˚ remember to like and reblog the works you enjoy in order to support each writer!! ✧*:·˚
✧*:·˚ however, make sure you read the information on each story themselves such as triggers & warnings ✧*:·˚
✧*:·˚ also, if you'd like me to remove your fic from this list, message me! ✧*:·˚
°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。
「❀」 earn it. by @3vergr3en fem!reader x tasm!peter parker | smut with little plot (public sex, unprotected sex (PLEASE WRAP IT), nipple play, orgasm control, peter has an obvious breeding kink, cream pie, choking, teasing, profanity, name-calling, humiliation, dirty talk, jealousy, established marriage.), 2.9K
-harry is hosting a birthday party for his best friend, peter. Everything runs smoothly until y/n’s best friend back in high school shows up and start flirting with the female. oblivious y/n doesn’t think much of it, being used to such playful manner. but peter can see through the man’s facade, and he doesn’t like it one bit.
「❀」 needy by @webslingingslasher tasm!peter parker x reader | angst
-peter parker and reader getting into an argument based off of peter parker saying something to his friends behind readers back about reader that hurts her feelings
「❀」 “stop it you’re being mean” by ^ tasm!peter parker x reader
-“If we’re really being honest here, honey, I don’t think that’s what it’s about, at all.”
「❀」 changed the wording around, still fits. by ^ tasm!peter parker x reader
-"why do you seem upset?" "why the hell do you think..."
「❀」 want you to be okay by @lovelyspooks tasm!peter parker x reader | fluff (at the start) but then angst with no comfort, uncommunicated feelings, 1.6k
-you're peter parkers main priority, he makes sure you know that but lately you feel second best to the city you both love
「❀」 smut blurb by @berrieluv peter parker x reader | mentions of sex
-peter and reader r having sex and he's really rough but at some point he hurts her bc of his powers he got after the spider bite. and then he just takes care of her and its cute and soft
「❀」 in the real world by @luveline tasm!peter parker x fem!reader | canon typical violence, bleeding, swearing, fluff, angst, hospitals, mutual pining, idiots in love, fem!reader, she/her pronouns used for reader, 5.4k
-you notice something about spider-man during a violent villain showdown, then you have to save his life.
「❀」 drunk!peter mini fic by ^ tasm!peter parker x reader
-drunk!peter and he’s all over reader telling her how he wants to marry her and being handsy
「❀」 honeybody by ^ tasm!peter parker x reader | fluff, friendship, idiots in love, falling in love, strangers to friends to lovers, slow burn, intimacy, the intangible breadth of the human experience or something similar, mentioned/implied past self-harm, 12k
-something about music makes you desperate to feel it. something about peter, pretty and magnetic and light, multiplies this immeasurably. or, you and peter want to try everything
「❀」 frat!peter by @withahappyrefrain frat!tasm!peter parker x reader | 18+
-frat!peter going from feral sex beast to passionate youre the only person that matter to me sex
「❀」 3 is the magic number by ^ tasm!peter parker x reader | smut (strong breeding kink, soft dom Peter, overstimulation, creampies, daddy kink, choking, did I mention breeding kink? also peter having baby fever.)
-you and peter decide it's time to start trying to expand your family
「❀」 peter mini fic by @bruisedboys tasm!peter x shy!fem!reader | 0.7k
-peter gets really excited for you when you do things for yourself like a dork. like ordering for yourself or asking for help at the stores finding something. it’s so basic but peter knows you struggle so he just gets really excited 4 u
「❀」 min peter fic by ^ tasm!peter x clumsy!reader | 0.7k
-you’re still in the process of patching yourself up when peter gets home, your knees scraped and a box of big band-aids waiting for you on the coffee table.
「❀」 tequila makes me sleepy by @cosmal tasm!peter parker x fem!afab!reader | drunk!reader, mentions of gross guys sexualizing reader
-pete comes to find you at a party after you call him.
「❀」 your girl by @lanadelreyscokewhor3 boyfriend! teter x girlfriend! reader | some swearing, and vomiting ofc. but petnames and lots of fluff:))
-“m’peter i’m done. no more.” you moaned, your body feeling weak and achey as you leaned against your forehead against the toilet seat.
「❀」 boyfriend! peter thoughts by ^ tasm!peter parker x reader
-always sitting on his lap. always. whenever you’re in his room and he’s at his desk doing work he pats his knee and you trot over and sit on his knee and he bounces it slightly while he explains his work while you just listen and nod
「❀」 ridiculous by @peterthepark tasm!peter parker x f!reader | 18+ graphic smut, not much plot, nsfw brainrot, blonde and fratboy peter parker, unprotected sex, kinda public sex, bathroom sex, mentions of smoking and party drugs, swearing as always
-peter parker was ridiculous, especially with that new hair of his. but deep down, you wanted nothing more than to experience one night with the douchebag of a blonde.
「❀」 extremely ridiculous by ^ tasm!peter parker x f!reader | smut (18+ graphic smut, rough sex, dirty talk, religious themes, partie, nsfw brainrot, blond peter parker, unprotected sex, mentions of smoking and alcohol consumption, swearing, sexualized halloween costumes, daddy kink, some roleplay, fingering, oral sex, slapping and pain kink, mentions of anal, just pure filth with 9k)
-ever since the bathroom incident, you’re the first person that peter parker looks for in every party. halloween is sinful, but so is the way you look at him from across the room. recommend reading the first part
「❀」 smut blurb by ^ tasm!peter parker x reader | graphic smut and stuff
-peter uses his webs to keep you still during sex
「❀」 peter parker imagine by @mareagirls tasm!peter parker x reader
-peter and reader are on a date, but reader feels nauseous. but, reader doesn’t want to tell peter because a: they’ve both been super busy lately between spider-man duties and college and/or work and b: because even if reader won’t admit it, being vulnerable and being taken care of kind of scares them. but peter finds out/figured it out and wants to help and fluff ensues.
「❀」 i say i hate you with a smile on my face by @stylesparker college!tasm!peter parker x fem!reader | 4k
-peter is fairly certain he should not have come to this party. the “friend” that he came with from one of his classes, he doesn’t exactly remember which one, ditched him as soon as they got to the door.
「❀」 kiss me more by @spidernerdsblog tasm!peter parker x reader | 18+, smut, minors dni, 69 (m & f receiving)
-your dad is the chief of NYPD and isn't fond of your boyfriend's secret alias spiderman but that doesn't stop him from sneaking into your room at night for a few kisses and a little more.
「❀」 morning after by ^ peter parker x stark!reader | 18+, smut, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it)
-last night after a drunk hookup you and peter aren't quite sure you used protection or not.
「❀」 size issues by ^ tasm!peter parker x reader
-you prank your husband by getting the wrong size of bra just to see his reaction.
「❀」 i'll crawl home to her by @embrassemoi tasm!peter parker x f!reader | 18+, fluff, nsfw, oral (m), light sub/dom, soft smut, mentions of violence, injuries + blood, thigh riding, cleaning wounds, bit of plot (?)
-After a long day, all Peter wants is a bit of love and someone to take care of him.
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/6ed230178d025ec90b851d90eddd3f54/bb557612c6b6ee6c-42/s540x810/e6d6d586ad09700e5b80e2382f1415a8880dfd78.jpg)
#peter parker x reader#peter parker#peter parker smut#tasm!peter x reader#tasm!peter parker#tasm!peter parker x reader#spiderman x reader#spiderman smut#smut#fic recs#peter parker imagine#tasm!peter imagine#tasm!spiderman x reader
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(Part Two)
This is part two of a multiple part series, please be sure to start from part one!
(Part One) | (Part Two)
2chopsticks2eyes - Masterlist
Pairing: Lee Minho/Lee Know x Fem Reader
Themes: Angst, (Smut), (Fluff)
Word Count (all parts): ~21.8k | AO3
Summary: You were penniless and working tirelessly at a seedy club when you were assaulted. As soon as you resigned yourself to your fate, Lee Minho saved you, albeit grudgingly. You received treatment and you didn’t have to pay them a dime under one condition: You must be confined to his home for the remainder of your recovery.
Author’s Note:
***IMPORTANT!!!*** THIS STORY IS FILLED WITH TRIGGER WARNINGS. THIS SECOND PART DOES NOT CONTAIN THOSE TRIGGERS, BUT IT IS IMPLIED AND REFERENCED. PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE READ TAGS AND WARNINGS AT BEGINNING OF PART ONE BEFORE PROCEEDING.
The overall plot line was based off a recommendation from @linoots from Tumblr (I received permission from them to write this type of content)
(I’ve missed you all dearly. So sorry it’s taken so long 🥺)
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__________________________________________
You silently watched as the doctor removed the IV that had been pumping fluids into your body for the past 48 hours and you rubbed the uncomfortable bandage he replaced it with.
You refused to make eye contact with him. In fact, you did not look or talk to anybody since you woke up in that same home-hospital room you had grown accustomed to. Not Chris, not Felix, and definitely not Minho.
You were a shell of your former self and you didn’t know if you were upset or relieved that you were revived. You didn’t know what to make of it. But now, there was one emotion you knew that burned brighter than your numbness.
Anger.
You couldn’t quite believe Felix’s words when he said that Minho was the one who came to your rescue… again…
But that was preposterous. The bastard probably told the younger man to say that to make himself look better… Whatever, fuck it all.
You allowed yourself to be led back to your room to get some rest. However, when Felix left and Minho walked in, you fortified your walls even further. You felt your face turn sour with each passing moment without even looking at the man and you rolled over in bed so your back was facing him.
There was a long pause of silence that seemed to drag on for hours.
You finally heard a long sigh and then the sound of him plopping down into the chair by your bed. “You know…” He started, and you squeezed your eyes shut. “There’s a reason I bothered to do all of this...”
You tried your hardest to ignore him, but you couldn’t control the fact that his words piqued your interest, your ears already tuned-in to his velvety voice.
“Not just this time, but… the reason I brought you here in the first place.” After a moment of silence, he realized you weren’t going to respond, so he huffed in frustration. “Forget it.”
You suddenly heard the door open and you peered over your shoulder. Without turning to face you, he blankly said, “You are now required to have 24/7 supervision, congratulations.”
And with that, the man walked out while Felix walked in, a meek smile on his face and hands full with baked goods.
“In the mood for cookies?” You sighed and just returned to your side as you balled up in a mess of frustration and confusion under the covers, mind still tingling with the thought of what Minho was going to say.
__________________________________________
“I don’t need a fucking babysitter, Felix. I’m a grown woman.”
Felix just huffed, obviously sick and tired of your complaints. “You know why it’s this way, sweetie. Don’t blame me for doing my job.”
The topic was a constant now. He was obviously there for your physical therapy, but he was also everywhere else. You loved the man, you did, but there is only so much time you could stand without a little alone time!
You wanted to watch TV? He was there. You wanted to nap? He was there. You couldn’t even go to the bathroom without having to leave the door open so he ‘has access to you at all times’. Thank god he stayed outside while you did your business…
After a week of this bullshit, you decided to do something about it…
Throughout your exploration of the house, you found some rooms with names on them. Evidently the ones that Minho once said were strictly prohibited. A couple of the rooms had names you were completely unfamiliar with, but others, you remembered well. Chan, Felix, Jisung, Seungmin, Jeongin, and finally some large double-doors with the initials L.M.
Lee Minho.
The man had supposedly been ‘out on business’ the entire week, but you knew for sure he had come back today with all of the ruckus of the house staff.
So, when you were positive that Felix had finally passed out on the sofa in your room for the night, you, as quietly as humanly possible, snuck out of the room and tip-toed down the hallway and downstairs to the doors you knew by heart now.
The room was surprisingly extremely secluded and you thanked the heavens because you knew for sure you wouldn’t be able to keep cool once he was in sight. You were fully prepared to bang your fist all the way through Minho’s door to meet the man himself if that’s what it took, but as you raised your fist to knock, the door suddenly opened.
Well… shit…
You really didn’t want to admit it, you really didn’t, but… the sight before you was absolutely, without a doubt, mouth watering. He looked just as surprised as you, but you found yourself focused on something other than his face for once…
The man was completely shirtless, pajama pants riding low on his hips and revealing the prominent V of his abdomen. Speaking of abdomen, the dude was of course ripped. Well, maybe not Dr. Chris (Or Christopher, or Chan, or what the fuck ever you want to call him) kind of ripped, but enough to make your eyes bulge out and glue themselves to every inch of impeccably toned abs and pecs.
And another thing that stood out in particular was the sleeve of tattoos twisting and swirling around the upper half of his right arm. You had only seen him in button-ups thus far and, even if he rolled up his sleeves, you somehow hadn’t ever noticed it. You were usually hyper-focused on his face, but at that moment, all you could see was the vast amount of skin on display.
You swallowed the lump in your throat.
“What are you doing here?” His stern words snapped you back to reality and you had to rapidly blink to regain a semblance of consciousness.
What am I doing? You shivered and grimaced at yourself for your intrusive thoughts before meeting his eyes.
“Uh-uhh I–” You halted your words when you noticed he was clutching something on his side. Curiosity got the better of you and you peered around his towering frame to see a soiled and basically useless bandage dripping with blood. “Holy shit! Are you alright?!” You said stepping towards him instinctively, catching yourself once he tensed and stepped back, correcting his posture as if to defend himself.
Psh, what could you possibly do to him? You couldn’t even defend yourself…
He glanced at the cloth he was currently pressing to his side and made a disgruntled noise. “I’m fine.” He said with a curt and slightly annoyed huff. “Why don’t you have anyone watching you right now?” He grumbled, obviously frustrated as he looked around behind you in search of your babysitter.
You furrowed your brows, still peeved but also worried about the still-bleeding wound on his side. “I had to sneak away because I don’t necessarily appreciate being babysat like a fucking child! Now you need to refresh that bandage before it gets infected!” You borderline shouted.
You could almost feel the daggers he shot at you with his eyes pierce through your flesh. “I said I’m fine! Now go back to be– Hey!”
You cut his sentence off short when you saw a first aid kit that looked like it had been through war and back on a small table behind him before you marched your way in, not giving two flying fucks that you were invading his room. “Get your ass in here, we need to clean you up first.” You demanded, collecting the kit and marching into what looked like the ensuite, completely ignoring his protests.
Jesus, is this much luxury even necessary? You thought as you passed through his behemoth of a room. Gray, white, and covered in smooth marble and chandeliers, it housed all of the amenities to be considered its own wing of the house. The gray material of the sofa and bed looked so soft and luxurious you were tempted to walk over and run your fingers along them. But that would have to wait.
He slammed his bedroom door shut with a huff and turned around. “You can’t just–!” You ignored him as you strolled into the bathroom (Still unnecessarily gorgeous).
“Just get your ass in here and sit!” You shouted from the bathroom. When you saw him stop in the doorway and glare at you, you just proceeded to open the first-aid kit and then pointed at the black and white marble countertop next to the sink. “Sit.”
He rolled his eyes before squeezing them shut and breathing out a slow sigh. “You… You’re a pain in my ass.” He groaned before dragging his feet over to you and hopping up to sit on the counter like you asked. If you hadn’t been right in front of him, you would have almost missed the slight hiss of pain he breathed through clenched teeth.
Why you had felt a pang of sympathy for the man, you had no clue.
He watched you apprehensively as you washed your hands and moved to face him. A brief moment of awkward silence had permeated the air before you tentatively raised your hands to remove the soiled bandage.
Minho visibly stiffened, but he made no move to stop you as your shaky fingers slowly peeled back the gauze.
Holy shit. That was 100% unmistakably a bullet wound.
Your mind was automatically transported back to that first night where you witnessed this guy casually gun down those men, effectively splattering five different brains on the fresh snow without even batting an eyelash. Who the fuck is Lee Minho? And what all was he capable of?
“If you’re going to just stand there and stare, then kindly leave me the fuck alone.” His gruff voice made you jump slightly as you were pulled from your thoughts.
You cleared your throat as you proceeded to throw away the red-stained dressing. You avoided his eyes as you grabbed the saline solution and a towel, still feeling his eyes bore into you with every movement.
However, you froze as you held the saline up to the mangled skin. “U-um… Did you take out—?”
“Yes, I already removed the bullet. Get on with it.”
Your stomach churned at his affirmation of the cause of injury, but you were getting sick and tired of his assholery as you glared up at his blackened eyes. “You know, a little gratitude goes a long way, shithead.”
He seemed stunned for a moment, looking at you as if you had gone crazy before returning to his deadly glower. “Look here, Tinkerbell—“ You bristled at that stupid-ass name again… “YOU’RE the one that barged in here. YOU’RE the one who has been a pain in my ass ever since you got here. So, no, I won’t give ‘gratitude’ where it’s not deserved. Plus, you’re the one to talk…” He murmured the last bit, but you still clearly heard him.
“Then why bother saving me in the first place?!” You basically screamed at him.
Silence and a shocked disposition was all you got in return.
“I had nothing to live for anyway, so why bother?! You could have just as easily ignored what was happening and went on your merry fucking way. Could have left me behind that dumpster to freeze and bleed to death so you wouldn’t have to deal with this ‘pain in the ass’. Could have also left me alone to OD and suffocate on my own vomit the other day. So what gives?” You finished with a seething remark while gesturing to yourself.
His face was stark blank. “You want to know why I saved you?” He said through gritted teeth. You just responded with a curt nod. He sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration before his expression morphed into something more solemn. It seemed like he was having an internal battle before he began to speak. He finally sighed and leaned his head back against the wall mirror with closed eyes. “I once… I had a cousin, one that was very close to me. I would always be overbearing and protective and she would always tell me to stop babying her.”
He chuckled fondly as he reminisced and you found yourself latching onto his every word. You chalked it up to the fact that you were finally learning something about this enigmatic man and this whole fucked up situation.
“Anyway, as we got older and I got busier, I began giving her more space. She was becoming a woman and I accepted the fact that she could begin to take care of herself.” He paused, but considering the faintest waver in his voice and his dry swallow, it didn’t sound like it was because he was waiting for a response… “I thought she was safe… but there were… others… vile pigs that knew how close she was to me…”
Another beat of silence and you watched his face slowly morph from sorrow to unbridled rage.
“I found her in almost the exact way I found you…” His words felt like a punch to the gut and painful images flooded your mind as you swallowed the bile that rose to your chest. “But, in her case, the scum that had… done that to her had already fled and I… I couldn’t save—” He squeezed his eyes tighter and his jaw clenched hard around the emotions before they could spill out.
You both knew he didn’t need to finish that sentence.
You felt the numbness that had taken over your soul begin to crack once again at the feeling of sympathy towards his cousin, and that shit scared you like none other.
“So, yeah. You might be a raging bitch and I might be a pretentious motherfucker. But even so, I couldn’t just leave you… I just couldn’t…” You felt something churn in your gut and you furrowed your brows in frustration as to what it was. You watched him take a deep breath and sit up a bit straighter. “So, with that being said, I can’t just allow you to throw away everything you’ve worked for so far.”
As if indicating that he had enough of the back-and-forth, he attempted to grab the saline bottle from your hand, only to be met with adamant resistance. You gently pushed his hand away (thankfully without any struggle) and brought the saline and towel up to his ever-bleeding wound that was dripping down to the puddle it created, causing a concerning amount of deep crimson to flood the marble countertop.
You silently flushed the deep cavern with the solution until you deemed it was properly cleaned before moving on to the peroxide. “This might sting a bit…” You warned as you watched his jaw clench. He closed his eyes as you disinfected it and you wondered how he could keep so cool after having a bullet plunged into his side.
Once he was properly cleaned and covered in antibiotic ointment, you picked up the gauze and searched for some tape. Your eyes widened as he wordlessly moved to hand you a long compression wrap.
You emitted a noise that sounded somewhat like a sputtering engine and your face flushed as you saw his suppressed smirk. To wrap that thing around him, you would have to run your hands all over his muscled torso… fuck.
“Something the matter?” He lilted in that nonchalant, annoying timbre. Teasing. “If you don–”
“It’s fine!” You cut him off, maybe a bit too loudly as you refused to make eye contact. “It’s just… just… don’t you have any dressing tape?” You said as you coincidentally eyed his well-defined pecs and abs.
He shrugged. “Nope. Not with me anyway. I just have this—“ He said while waving the fabric in front of your face again with a challenging brow lifted.
You nervously chuckled and squeaked out, “O-okay… Stand up…” You instantly felt goosebumps rise all over your flesh as he hopped off the counter, keeping the gauze pressed to his wound, and stepped a bit too close for a man you barely even knew. Deep breaths, you can do this…
“Hey…” You slowly raised your eyes to meet his own at the sound of the softer change in his tone. He took the tiniest step back to make it easier for him to look you in the eyes. “If you're uncomfortable… I mean… I’m not…” You don’t think you had ever seen him struggle so much with his words. He sighed and closed his eyes before sadly looking at you again. “You have nothing to be afraid of with me… I wouldn’t even think of…” He huffed and shook his head in disgust as he seemed to be thinking of the exact same thing that had plagued you day and night since arriving here.
Before he could even drive his point home, you gently laid your hand on his shoulder, causing his gaze to return to you. “I know…” You replied. “You hardly scare me, Lee Minho.” You teased with a wry smile that even surprised you.
His disturbed face was slowly replaced with a pleasantly surprised grin similar to your own. You watched with feigned mockery as he raised the wrapping once again. “Then prove it, Tink.” You just scoffed and rolled your eyes at the shortened version of his unrelenting name for you and snatched the elastic cloth from his hand.
“Fine.” You huffed defiantly before looking at his abdomen once again. You tentatively pressed the end of the wrap against his heated skin that made you blush. You could feel him watching you and you suddenly felt like hiding.
You wrapped the bandage over several times, feeling yourself tense up every time you touched his bare skin, and secured it tightly once you were finished. “O—“ Your voice cracked when you tried to speak and your face heated as you cleared your throat. “Okay, you’re finished…”
You wouldn’t look him in the eyes, how could you after you basically forced him to let you run your hands all over his tan, muscular, and absolutely gorgeous skin?
“W—“ He hesitated and, despite yourself, you found your eyes instinctively seeking his own out to somehow read the words through his dark irises. You found he was searching your eyes as well with pursed lips before he looked away and cleared his throat as well. “Thank you.”
Huh?
“Channie-hyung wasn’t available when I returned home so I tried to take care of it myself. I guess my half-assed effort didn’t do much, huh?” He chuckled and looked back at you with a meek smile.
Who the fuck is this man and where did Lee Minho go?
He nervously chuckled and you realized you’d been staring at the man far too long. You took a deep breath and stepped back. “Well, I kind of owed it to you now, didn’t I?” You said it lightheartedly, but he furrowed his brows.
“You don’t ever have to owe me anything.”
You arched a brow, but he just turned and began packing away the first aid kit again. You watched his back, trying to remember why you came to his room in the first place. “Minho?”
He stilled his movements.
“What do you even do?” He turned and arched a brow at you and you rolled your eyes, stepping forward next to him to lean against the counter. “Like, you are obviously loaded…” You said gesturing to your luxurious surroundings. “You have a full staff with a doctor to patch up nasty bullet holes like this and god knows what else…” You both looked at his bandage. “And not to mention the bullets you cleared through those guys’ heads without even blinking an eye that night…”
He bit his lip and you followed the action with your eyes. You instinctively wet your own lips. After he was done staring at the marble countertop for an unnecessarily lengthy amount of time, he hesitantly turned his body to face you.
“You could say I sort of run something like a… secret organization?” He said tentatively like it was a question unto himself and you furrowed your brows.
You squinted skeptically at him. “So… you're telling me—“ Is that worry on his face? “—that you're a secret agent? Like a spy?” You looked at him in disbelief.
He sputtered a restrained laugh and looked at you with a suppressed smile. “I suppose you could say I’m like a spy.”
“LIKE a spy?”
He looked up like he was deliberating. “Sure. Like a spy.”
“But not actually a spy?”
He groaned at your questioning and ran a hand through his messy hair. Come to think of it, this is the most dressed-down look you’d seen on him. Gone were the button-ups and slacks, now replaced by sweats and a compression wrap over his shirtless body.
He stood straight and crossed his arms, obviously ready for the conversation to be over. “Does it matter? Look, it’s already really late and Yongbok will panic if he realizes you ran off.”
Oh shit, that’s right. That’s the whole reason you were even there. In Minho’s bathroom. Standing closely to him. With the man half naked and you in your flimsy, silk nightwear. Your peaked nipples seemed suddenly way more apparent as you crossed your arms over your chest. You rapidly blinked as if suddenly waking up and quickly stepped back.
“I-I wanted to ask you something…” He arched his brow and you continued. “Can you please call off the reinforcements? I know I made a bad decision and all, but I will honestly go crazy if I have to use the bathroom with the door open one more time.” You found yourself begging rather than demanding like you had initially intended.
Why, though?
He looked hesitant and you quickly added, “I don’t even mean all of the time! Like, I’ll keep my bedroom door open so he can check up on me and he can even watch me secretly while I’m around the house, I just want at least a little sense of privacy!”
You knew you sounded like a pathetic child, but you had resigned yourself to that fate as soon as you had to take a massive, violent shit earlier that day and you knew Felix had heard everything from the other room. Without any doors to create that sweet, sweet sound barrier? Ugh… You were still mortified to look at him.
You silently watched him with imploring eyes as he tiredly rubbed his brow. “You…” You widened your eyes with a hopeful energy pulsing through them, hoping to portray as such as he looked into your pleading eyes. He sighed. “I suppose those terms are fair…” You lit up like a Christmas tree before he raised a finger. “BUT, if you are EVER alone ANYWHERE, you need to let him know where you are and give him regular updates on your whereabouts to let him know if you are okay. Okay?”
You vehemently nodded your head and perked up. “Thank GOD!”
He smirked and crossed his arms again. “I think I like you calling me a god. Have I upgraded from a narcissistic asshole?” He tilted his head with raised brows and you were, once again, reminded how gorgeous this man really was.
You rolled your eyes and went to shove his shoulder, but before you could even touch him, he grabbed your wrist in the blink of an eye. For some reason, you both looked surprised as he froze with your wrist in his hand from less than a foot away. Your heart was racing and you chalked it up to being from fear of someone grabbing you.
But why did that conclusion not feel quite right…?
Before you could ponder it, he dropped your arm and quickly stepped away. “Fuck. I-I’m sorry.” He shook his head and you watched worry swirl in his eyes.
No…
No, you weren’t afraid of this man. You don’t know why, but you knew he wouldn’t hurt you intentionally. Even after everything… “It was just instinct! I swear! I would never intend to—“
“I know, Minho.” You cut off his panicking, but his brows gave away his lingering concern. “I guess I’m just going to have to take your word for it on the whole spy thing, though, because those were super fast reflexes.” You chuckled to ease the tension and his face softened slightly.
It was silent for a moment and he cleared his throat again. “Well, I should walk you back to your room, it’s late and I’ve had… a very long few days.”
You took a large breath and promptly left the bathroom. “I’m perfectly fine on my own, you know?” There’s that twinge of irritation again…
”I know, I know. But if Yongbok is awake, I want to be able to ease his worries and update him on his role in taking care of you.
Taking care of…
Not treating, not monitoring. Taking care of. You supposed that’s what they were doing, huh? Felix was, in fact, doing much more than treating or monitoring. He waited on you hand and foot and you were being a bitch about it. You made a promise to yourself right then and there to let him know as soon as possible how much you appreciated his care and apologize for your behavior.
You nodded, both to yourself and to Minho’s reasoning before making your way back to your room with the mysterious and intriguing man just a few steps behind you.
__________________________________________
Felix was a saint. Not only did he forgive you when you apologized, but he went as far to say it was his fault for being overbearing. Which was obviously preposterous.
With your new parameters in effect, Felix decided to leave the estate shortly, before quickly returning with gifts for you. Among them were several jigsaw puzzles and you perked up at the sight of them. Over time, you had come to really appreciate those puzzles. So much so that you had already finished all of the ones currently at the estate, strangely enough. All kinds of different collections displayed on random tables throughout the mansion.
Felix was true to his word and gave you your space, only briefly giving you regular check-ups as you sat in one of the many living rooms that giant freaking place held and began the therapeutic work of putting together an adorable puzzle of a litter of kittens.
You would love to have cats…
When a sudden ruckus erupted down the hall, you furrowed your brows and looked behind you to the source. Down the corridor you saw the same seven men that you had seen regularly around the house (obviously minus Felix) dressed in what looked like active-wear gathering around the front entryway.
The men never approached you, but that was most likely because you tried to make yourself scarce once you saw one of them. Maybe Dr. Chris, Felix, and Minho you trusted, but you didn’t know those other men and it made you sick to your stomach thinking of being alone with a stranger without one of those three men accompanying you.
”Okay, guys, this is just routine training today, so no fire hazards, alright Hyunjin?” You heard Minho announce to the group.
Training? Like their super-secret-spy type training?
You felt yourself stand and march over to them without even formulating what you were doing. Who needs rational thought anyway?
If you were remembering correctly, the one named Jeongin spotted you first with a look of surprise. “Come. On. Hyuuung. We need to be prepared for anyth—“ Jeongin harshly elbowed the one who you assumed was Hyunjin and quickly spoke up.
’Hy-Mr. Lee, sir. I think someone is here for you…” He nodded a bow to you and you returned it, giving a meek smile to the group before meeting Minho’s gaze.
He looked slightly surprised before giving you… was that a smile? No, surely not…
You cleared your throat as Felix made his way over with hurried steps and a worried expression. You, then, glanced over at the other men who had become quiet as death upon you stepping up next to Minho. You scanned over them before slightly bowing. “Um… Good morning…” You introduced yourself before hearing a small ‘oh’ from the man beside you. You turned your head as he stepped forward and turned to face you again.
”I guess I haven’t really introduced them all to you yet… These are my… This is my inner circle.” He hesitated and turned to gesture to each of them. “Some I’m sure you already know. Like Channie-Hyung, Yongbok, and Jisung.” The three nodded politely with soft smiles. “But to formally introduce you to the others, this is Changbin…” The shorter, muscular man offered a shy smile. “Hyunjin…” Your eyebrows raise at the incredibly handsome man as his full lips formed a smile as well. “Seungmin…”
”Nice to formally meet you.” He said with an amused grin and you nervously chuckled as you informed him likewise.
”Then there’s our maknae, Jeonginnie.” Hyunjin cooed at the youngest when he also gave a shy smile and he received a death-glare in return.
All of the men remained incredibly polite, bowing their heads when introduced and maintaining their distance. Shit, they probably already know everything about you and your situation… especially considering the fact that no one asked you who you were or why you were there.
You guessed you understood and you were actually somewhat grateful. It saved you from having to explain it yourself and relive all of the pain again…
”It’s very nice to meet you all.” You gave the men a polite smile before turning to Minho again. You were on a mission. “Minho, can I please come train with you guys?”
You could hear a pin drop with how silent the room got. “You… you want to train?” You gave a determined nod before slumping your shoulders at his shake of the head. “No. No way.”
“What?! Why?!”
”Um, I think it’s best we head out first. We will meet you there sir.” The youngest quickly relayed before walking out the front door with the other men in tow, Felix quickly retreating to some other corner of the estate.
After watching the mass leave, you fixed your glare on Minho’s resolute expression. “Not only are you not employed by me, but you also have an injured arm—“
”It could be good therapy for me! And I can even raise it horizontally now!” You demonstrated the movement with gritted teeth, trying to hide the pain, and he responded with an unimpressed visage.
“You are already receiving therapy and you would just be a liability. So, no. End of discussion.”
A liability? Ouch.
You felt anger rise up in you and you took a step near him, his features remaining stone-cold. “You… You’re a… ugh!” You couldn’t even muster up the will to call him an asshole anymore. What the fuck was WRONG with you?
With the lack of anything better to say, you furiously stomped away up to your bedroom to fume in private, but not without flipping him off the entire way there.
__________________________________________
“Knock knock, love.” Felix announced before stepping through your open doorway. It hadn’t been long since you petulantly curled up on the plush armchair by your window to angrily watch the rain outside.
Of course it would rain. Apparently fate had decided to mock you as if you were an actress in some sort of sad music video. Surely Felix would agree.
You watched with hesitancy as he held out his hand to you. “Follow me.” He said calmly with a smile. “I want to show you a new room.” You perked up at that notion. You had been running out of places to explore recently and the prospect of seeing something new was like a kid going to a playground.
You took his hand and allowed him to lead you to one of the many locked double-doors on the estate. What you saw made you gasp in awe. Bookshelves upon bookshelves lined the walls of a massive, two-storied library that was stocked to max capacity with what looked like brand new books as well as older than hell pieces of literature. All surrounding a cozy living area with couches, armchairs, and even a fireplace.
”Minho-hyung must really trust you to let me show you this. These books mean a great deal to him and many of them are extremely fragile as well.” He trusts me? You thought as you watched Felix’s eyes widen. “I-I mean Mr. Lee…”
You furrowed your brows and turned to him. “Why do you do that?” You asked and he just blinked at you with worry written on his features.
”D-do what?”
Playing dumb, are we? “That! Those other guys do it too! Why don’t you just call him Hyung? You all are obviously close. Why try to hide it?”
Felix nervously rubbed the side of his neck and looked down. “It’s not like we are trying to hide it, necessarily. We are just trained to remain professional. It’s just much harder when we are all home and much more relaxed.”
You nodded your head in understanding. “But why do you try to hide it with me? I’m not exactly here on business.” You arched your brow and he smiled sweetly.
”It…” He seemed hesitant to speak until he sighed and lowered his head. “If we keep things professional with you, it might be easier when we have to see you go…” You were taken aback. Easier? Is he saying they would miss you? Why? You were a nobody, and you were honestly kind of a bitch. No, that can’t be it.
”What do you mean by easier?”
He seemed confused by your question. “When you spend so much time with someone, it’s easy to get attached. Even the coldest heart can find warmth in someone they find trustworthy and important.”
Trustworthy? Important? You? What in the world did you do to earn those titles?
Felix must have read the disbelief on your face because he continued. “You and I have spent a lot of time together over the past months. I’ve learned a lot about you and your habits.” You blushed. He most definitely knows a lot about you. He’s seen a lot too. “I know you are a good person. I have an eye for these things.”
He winked at you and you huffed a chuckle.
“And Minho-hyung knows you are a good person too. He just has a different way of… expressing his feelings.” You scoffed and rolled your eyes. “No, it’s true! We discuss you and your progress often and the kind of leniency he gives you in this place is unheard of for anyone other than our circle. Even some of the house staff haven’t been allowed in some of these rooms you’ve seen.”
What on god’s green earth did you say to them to trust you? I mean, of course they can trust you. You bear no ill will toward any of them, not seriously anyway. But why do they think so? Felix could definitely see the confusion on your face when he gently placed a hand on your upper back and guided you two further into the treasure-trove of books.
“Don’t think about it too much, love. Just know that everything we do, we do out of good and pure intentions.”
You definitely thought about it too much.
__________________________________________
You were determined.
You were going to get out of that damned house, even if just for a minute, whether he liked it or not. By exploring the house, you ended up finding a board room, like true business-official type shit. A long table surrounded by office chairs and even a projector screen. And with a small tip from Felix, you knew they all happened to have a meeting that morning.
An actual business meeting. Not the one including half-naked women this time.
So, after gearing up in some serious workout attire, you marched yourself to that exact room, not even bothering to knock. You were on a mission. ”Lee Minho, I demand to be included in your training. I won’t take no for an answer!”
His were the first eyes you seeked out when you entered the room and you willed yourself to not back down.
You, then, remembered the presence of the other seven men in the room and how silent everyone had become. It was as if they thought, if they move even slightly, all hell would break loose. And by looking at Minho’s facial expression, they might have good reason to think as such.
”I. Said. NO. Now please see your way out. As you can see, we are clearly busy.” You were pissed, no, more than pissed, but you squared your shoulders.
However, before you could utter a word, Jisung spoke up. “Hyung. I think we should let her. She is obviously passionate about it.” Minho glared at his friend and then back at you. He was silent for a moment, as if he was deliberating, before speaking again.
”No.”
”FUCKING HELL, MAN! I have been sitting on my ass here for months now for a reason I’m sure everyone here already knows about—!“ You watched guilty expressions color the room. “—and now that I’m getting better, you’re not going to help me defend myself if something like that happens again?” You witnessed his eyes widen as a traitorous tear fell down your cheek. “Fuck. You. Lee Minho!”
Resilience be damned, you were itching to escape that suffocating room and the problem within it. You stormed away once more with a harsh slam of the door and a burning fire inside you fueled by hate and anger.
Fuck this.
__________________________________________
You felt a plop on the couch next to you and you jolted in place with a tiny squeak.
After the meeting room fiasco, you had been spending all of your time in the library. You were so immersed in your book that you didn’t even realize there was another presence in the room.
With a quick whip of the head and an incredulous look on your face, you watched Minho smirk next to you in amusement. “For someone who is super quick with their tongue, you sure are slow with everything else.” He chuckled as you came down from your fright and you placed a hand on your rapidly beating heart.
That motherfucker just about killed you! Well, not literally, but still! You closed your eyes to collect yourself before opening them again to glare at him.
However, instead of that same annoying smirk, his face turned into one of regret. “Shit, I’m sorry… I didn’t even think if that would make you… fuck, I didn’t—“
”It’s fine!” You quickly cut him off, knowing where he was going with that statement. “I-I’m fine… you just startled me a bit.” You calmly placed your bookmark before turning back to him with narrowed eyes. He looked a bit more relieved.
”Still, I need to be more… considerate.” He looked down at his hands, avoiding your eyes. “In more ways than one…” You furrowed your brows in suspicion before he returned your gaze once more. “I’ve thought about it a lot and I realized that I haven’t necessarily been easy on you throughout all of this. I might have played a part in helping you physically, but I didn’t consider how this would all affect you mentally.”
You were speechless. Was this the same man? He’s actually being… remorseful…
“So, yeah. Sorry about all that…” He awkwardly rubbed the back of his neck while averting his eyes. He clearly wasn’t used to apologizing so much. “I, um… I wanted to ask you if we could, like, start over?”
You had never seen the man fumble so much since meeting him and it was quite a refreshing sight. “Why? Are you about to drop another ridiculous rule on me and you’re just saying this to lessen the blow?” You huffed a bitter chuckle.
You could see his temper start to rise before he closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “I’m saying this…” There was a slight edge to his voice before he opened his eyes again with a much more gentle demeanor. “—because I am tired of us butting heads.” He slumped into the backrest and you arched a brow. “And also because you were right.”
Okay. Something is seriously wrong.
”I thought it would be dangerous for you to train with professionals and be subjected to a room full of random men.” He limply turned his head your way while remaining melted into the cushions. “And yes, there will be other men there. All of my subordinates use this training center. It’s one of my most used gyms for my… industry.”
You scoffed. “Pft. ‘Industry’” You mocked with finger quotations.
He smirked. “Yes. Industry.” His face gradually returned to a more serious disposition. “There is also the matter of secrecy.” You nodded your head. Yeah, that made sense considering his occupation, but who were you going to tell? “Not saying I don’t trust you—“
”Why do you trust me?” You blurted, the question still buzzing around in your mind like an annoying pest. He furrowed his brows as if he didn’t understand. You continued. “Like, yeah, I get why you saved me now and all, but why do you trust ME?”
His brow slightly softened and he cleared his throat. “Y-you have given me no reason not to trust you. Why? Did you do something?” He said with a smirk.
You rolled your eyes. “No, asshole. It’s obvious to me that you should trust me, but you’re just going to take my word for it? You must be a really shitty spy.” He guffawed loudly, sitting up with a bright grin as he seemed like himself again.
”You haven’t seen what I can do, Tinkerbell.” You rolled your eyes, but you did find the notion intriguing.
”Oh yeah? What can you do?” You could see a spark light up in his eyes as he stared into your own and you had to gulp down the saliva that pooled in your mouth from the sight.
”Well…” He shifted to face you, elbow now propped up on the back of the couch. “You’ll get to see some of it when we train you.”
You felt your heart jolt. “When you train me?” You felt the corners of your mouth slowly lifting and his followed right behind.
”We leave at noon. Unless you’ve changed your mind?” He mused.
”No! No, I want to!” You looked at the clock. 11:30. Shit, he couldn’t have told you a little sooner? You sprang to your feet and he stood as well. “Just let me go change and I’ll meet you in the foyer.”
He just gave you a brief nod before turning on his heel and leaving you giddily buzzing in your skin.
__________________________________________
Somehow, you had plenty of options to choose from, but you opted for a simple T-shirt and joggers. Not the cutest, but who were you trying to impress?
A vision of Minho flashed in your mind and you reeled from the thought. Ugh. Why did my head think of HIM? In fact, why were you thinking so much about him in the first place? You chalked it up to it being from interacting more frequently nowadays. Yes. That must be it. You resolutely threw on a hoodie over your shirt and marched your way to the foyer.
“You ready? It won’t be easy.” He said from where he was leaned up against the staircase banister. You took in the sight of his workout attire, not really taking the time to fully appreciate it until now.
He wore a loose pair of sweatpants and an airy tank top that allowed you to gaze at his intricate sleeve of tattoos once more. He would almost look human if he hadn’t been blessed with his other-worldly beauty.
You blinked away the thoughts and gave a firm nod to him in response. “I don’t want easy. I want effective.”
He smirked and stood up straight when you approached. “We’ll see soon how confident you are in that statement.” You glared and he gestured his head. “C’mon, let’s go.”
Instead of heading out the front, he made his way further into the house. You furrowed your brows. “Where are the other guys? And where are you going?”
”Tsk. So many questions!” He mused and grinned at your responding scowl. “The guys are already there and, as to where we are going…” He stepped up to a large door located in the next room and opened the door for you to enter first, your face surely gawking at the luxury. You heard a chuckle from behind you. “Your reactions are always so adorable.” He smoothly teased.
EXCUSE ME?!
You whipped around and glared at him as he just continued walking past you. “Now…” He turned back to face you again. “Which one do you want to take?” He said plainly as he gestured to the plethora of extremely expensive cars.
The garage definitely looked like it belonged in a spy movie, but you were stumped. He said he was like a spy. Not a spy. Like a spy. You were still racking your brain as to what that meant.
Your eyes grazed over the fancy marble interior of the museum-like garage and the cars on display. How can someone have this much disposable income?
You didn’t know the first thing about cars, why did you have to pick?
When you just pointed to some random car, he raised his brows. “Really? The Rolls Royce?”
“Well, shit I dunno! Why do I need to pick? You obviously know more than I do when it comes to this!”
He cackled and led you closer to your chosen car. “Oh, I know waaay more than you, Tink.” You grumbled and he chuckled as he opened the door for you, letting you slide into the disgustingly luxurious vehicle.
”Why do you even have all of these cars? Don’t you have someone else to drive you?” He donned a cocky half-grin when he slipped into the driver seat.
”Sure, when I’m on business I do. But we are just going to train.”
In the blink of an eye, his face was directly in front of yours as he reached across you, eyes fixed on your seatbelt strap as he grasped the material. As soon as he stretched it across your body, he seemed to notice your surprise.
He froze, blinked at you rapidly, then quickly averted his gaze back down to the strap to buckle you in. He cleared his throat and gulped before starting the car. “Plus…” He added with a slightly strained voice. “It’s not nearly as fun riding as it is driving.”
__________________________________________
“Was the bag seriously necessary? Who would I even tell?!” You seethed as you threw the black, silky fabric at him.
Before you two even left the driveway, he forced you to shove your head in a stupid black hood so you “couldn’t know the location” once you left the estate later. You told him that it was unnecessary and stupid, but the man insisted.
You ripped the damned thing off as soon as he put the car in park.
”Have you forgotten what I told you? About my work? Why are you surprised with the secrecy?” He explained calm and composed as he discarded the bag in the car again.
”Well then blindfold me next time! I could barely breathe!” You were over exaggerating, of course. That material was extremely airy and breathable, you just wanted to feel superior to such treatment.
”Well excuse me, your highness…” He rolled his eyes as he pulled out his keys and walked up to the door of a large, nondescript, concrete building. Unlocking and opening the door for you, he gave you an exaggerated bow.
You narrowed your eyes at him as you passed the threshold, and marched into what looked like a massive gym complex of some sort.
However, the entire building was devoid of life. Of course that’s not including the seven familiar figures you saw fighting on the far end of the room. ”I thought you said all of your employees train here?” You said with an arched brow.
Minho passed you with a shrug. “Not today they don’t.” Well that answered nothing…
”Hey there, girly! Ready to get that blood pumping?”
”Calm down, Changbin. She is still going through therapy, remember?” Dr. Chris told the younger muscle man from where he was doing crazy heavy deadlifts off to the side.
”I know, I know, grandpa.” Changbin smirked at the doctor’s glare. “But just remember: ‘What hurts today makes you stronger tomorrow.��”
The other men groaned in tandem and you found yourself slightly smiling. “That’s a great motivational outlook, Changbin.” You said to the group as you watched Changbin’s face light up.
”Okay, enough, enough.” Minho declared. “Today’s training is obviously a bit different than usual.” He gestured vaguely at you. “We have a base level trainee and she needs to be trained from ground zero.” He gave you a side-eye and a cocky smirk. “Maybe even lower than that…”
”Hey!” You made a move to give him a lighthearted shove, and then was immediately reminded of what happened last time as his hand shot to your wrist to stop the action. You tried to free yourself, but his grip was like stone. “Let me go, asshole!”
”Make me.” He said as he suddenly faced you, pulling you closer. “Come on, show me. What would you do if you wanted to be released?”
You didn’t have an answer for him. Any move you could possibly make would be caught by his cat-like reflexes. You just challenged him with your eyes before his own softened, along with his grip on your wrist.
Just as your wrist was released he gave you a couple pats on the head. “Don’t worry Tinkerbell. I’m sure you will figure it out eventually.” You just about growled at him as he walked over to stand by Chris who was now seated on a bench nearby. “Channie-hyung and I are just here to observe and critique ALL of you, so do your best.” The man made an annoyed expression and waved the back of his hand in front of him. “Well? Get on with it!”
With that, you found yourself surrounded by six (frankly gorgeous) men looming over you.
“Hey! Back off! Don’t all go at her at once! I said ground zero you pabos!” Minho shouted from the sidelines before the others retreated and Changbin stepped in front of you.
”Calm down, Minho. This is what I’m here for.” You breathed in a resolute huff and nodded at Changbin. “I’m ready.”
__________________________________________
“Watch out for her arm!”
…
”Don’t actually try to hurt her, idiot!”
…
”That’s too rough!”
…
The entire training session Minho had shouted at each and every one of the men trying to teach me at least once and it was growing tiresome. “Why even let me train if I can’t even, I dunno, actually train???” You grumbled at the stubborn man as the group was taking a break. “I have legitimately learned nothing with the parameters you have set!”
”For real, hyung. You aren’t letting her show her full potential. She needs—“
Minho instantly cut Changbin off. “I will decide what is needed and I think that it would be better for her to just watch for now. It’s obvious that she is not ready.”
”WHA—?” You squealed with widened eyes and a disbelieving expression.
”Actually, I think she is doing quite well in her recovery…” Dr. Chris stated matter-of-factly where he stood next to the other six men drenched in sweat.
You watched Minho slowly turn his murderous expression to the doctor, but you stepped into his line of sight before he had the chance to retaliate. “Please let me continue… I promise I will take it easy, I just…” You looked down at your restless hands before returning your gaze to his blackened irises. “This is just really important to me…”
You watched as the man’s face minutely softened and glanced at the seven men around you that also awaited his instruction.
”Please?” You implored, not used to such pleading from your end. His eyes darted back to you before he moved to rub his temples with a sigh.
“Fine.” He groaned. “But base-line self defense only. We can move on to more advanced training once you have recovered a bit more.”
You don’t know why you felt such relief come over you. Maybe it was the satisfaction of even marginally getting through to him, but you let a wide grin escape as your body involuntarily moved to hug the man.
What the fuck?
Just as quickly as you embraced the man, you retreated just as fast with furiously heated cheeks. Why in the world did you do that? You were FAR from hugging terms with him! He probably just about shot you in the head from the unexpected touch!
However, you couldn’t help but notice the citrus and sandalwood scent emanating from his solid, warm body. His skin felt like flames against yours and you welcomed the heat. It didn’t last long, but the simple contact with him made your blood boil and quickly reddened your entire face.
When you pulled back and cleared your throat, you witnessed a millisecond of bewilderment on his stone-cold face before it was immediately schooled back into place (but that did nothing to cover up his bright red ears). “Th-thank you.” You mumbled before you escaped to the water fountain that was, blessedly, on the other side of the room. Never mind the fact you had a water bottle already with you by the group…
__________________________________________
By the time you and the rest of the boys finished (which was a very productive start if you do say so yourself), Minho had informed he was called in for an unexpected ‘business meeting’ across town and that training would finish early for the day as he needed to take a couple of his men with him.
You were a bit disappointed, but at least you got to do something. Which was more than you expected honestly.
As you requested, you were blindfolded for the car ride back instead of the stifling bag he donned you with on the way there, but you rode back with only five of his men instead.
You could feel all of their eyes on you as you rode in silence. Jeongin drove the unnecessarily expensive limousine, Changbin, and Hyunjin sat across from you, and Felix and Chan bracketed you on each side.
The silence was even more suffocating than the bag you wore earlier as you felt yourself start to become antsy. “For the love of god, please someone say something! I feel like I’m an exhibit in a museum right now.” You whined and buried your face in your hands (even though you couldn’t see anything anyway).
”And what a lovely piece of art you are, darling~” Hyunjin lilted before you heard a slap of skin and an over dramatic squawk from said man.
”Yah! Don’t be a creep!” You heard Changbin exclaim as the precious Felix giggled next to you.
”It was supposed to be a compliment!” You heard someone click their tongue before Chan decided to speak up.
”It’s interesting isn’t it…” He commanded the whole group’s attention with practiced ease and you quickly realized the hidden influence this man had over the lot of them. Which would make sense due to the fact that the doctor had probably saved most of, if not all of their lives at some point in time. “I haven’t seen or heard of Minho ever taking it easy on a trainee before… Most of them have to come see me even after their first session with him.”
”For real though, the man is ruthless with everyone else! He will even push them through the pain of broken bones!” Hyunjin exclaimed incredulously.
”He wants to make sure they are prepared through anything, even excruciating pain.” Jeongin stated simply from the driver’s seat.
Holy shit, these guys are no joke! “What the fuck? Why can’t he do the same with me?!” The entire car went dead silent in response. You could feel the annoyance creep into your bones. “Is it because I’m a girl? Seriously?!”
You heard Felix scoff next to you. “As if.” He sputtered in amusement. “The female trainees are some of the toughest among all of us.”
Then why?
”Maybe he just has a soft spot for you…” You heard Hyunjin mumble and you outright cackled at that one.
”Are you kidding?! Have you seen the way he treats me??” You question with an incredulous chuckle.
“You never knooow~” Hyunjin stated with a teasing lilt to his voice before you heard another smack.
And before another word could be said, your blindfold was removed and you were ushered into the estate once more.
A soft spot? What a joke.
__________________________________________
I hope you guys are happy with the turn-around. 😏
I’ve missed you all so dearly and I apologize for the wait. 🥺 I would say that the next part will come out sooner, but I don’t want to guarantee that if life decides to fuck with me some more. 🙃
As always, please like, follow, and share!
Thanks baby Stays! Love you and missed you guys! 💋😽💋
And of course my squad and tag list:
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@queenmea604
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MADNESS (Eddie Munson x American Horror Story: Asylum)
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/23900480436278c02307093bdd2fb028/2f82565030c6cf70-c3/s540x810/300208d56339401615c74d66329fd89222587262.jpg)
chapter one | chapter two | chapter three | chapter four
Summary: Three years after his disappearance, Eddie Munson is arrested for the murders of Chrissy Cunningham, Fred Benson, Patrick McKinney and others, but the truth is very different. Unable to convince anyone that Vecna exists and that he is innocent, he is locked up in an asylum. But the only way out is to prove to his psychiatrist that he is not insane. If he fails to convince the psychiatrist, he will be executed as a murderer. He must hurry to do so, because Vecna has returned to finish the bloody unfinished business and take revenge.
Warnings: Blood and Injury, Mentions of execution, Execution, Death, Mental Health Issues, Asylum, Mental Hospital, Horror, Psychological Horror, Survival Horror, Thriller, Claustrophobia, Prison, Doctor/Patient, Serial Killers, Hospitals, Pain, Depression, Violence, Blood and Violence, Suicidal Thoughts, death of a family member, Nudity, Smut, Sex, Slow Burn, Experiments, TraumaPost-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Psychological Disorders, Smoking.
Before you read:)
This fan fiction is inspired by American Horror Story: Asylum. It contains a lot of horror and thriller content. Since the story takes place in a mental hospital, there may be various triggers. Please check the tags first as there is a lot of violence, sexuality and depression contents. This story is for adults, so close the page if you are a minor.
Please let me know if there are any tags I forgot to add. ao3 link
Violet was waiting for Eddie in the common room. When the door opened, Brendon walked in first then Eddie came in. Eddie looked around with curious eyes and smiled when he saw Violet. She gave him an almost similarly warm smile as Eddie approached the table and sat down across from her. Violet looked around carefully to make sure no one was looking at them, then put her hands in her pockets and smiled. “I brought something for you.”
Eddie's eyes lit up. “Did you bring my walkman?” he asked, excitedly.
Violet gave him a slightly bitter smile. “No, but I think you'll like it anyway.”
She took a small chocolate bar out of her pocket, put it between her hands and handed it to Eddie. Eddie's eyes were brighter than ever. He looked around and surreptitiously took the chocolate from Violet's hand.
“Oh, my God! Violet... I don't know what to say. Thank you so much.”
He put it in his mouth and ate the whole chocolate bar in one bite. “It was the best thing I've eaten in days. In fact, it was the only thing I've eaten that looked like food for days. You'll go to heaven for this.”
It warmed Violet's heart to see Eddie happy. She wondered what it would be like if they had met in a world where he wasn't insane . Eddie liked the music Violet liked, he was always quoting Lord of the Rings . He even said that he played the guitar very well and claimed to have given the best concert in the world. A small note: This concert happened in an upside-down world.
She couldn't believe that Eddie had committed all these murders. Because Eddie seemed so smart and sane.
But there was a truth. Real psychopaths always know how to manipulate you. And most of them are very intelligent. When people think of a “psychopath”, they think of someone who walks around with an axe and terrorizes people, but this is only partly true. Most of the most famous serial killers are college graduates and well-placed.
But when Violet looked into Eddie's eyes, she saw nothing that made him dangerous. Eddie's gaze was different.
Violet looked at Eddie and thought, I promised him I would find out who reported him, and he would tell me what he had learned about this hospital. I was only coming here to talk to him, but he lives here. He had more information than me. And I need that information.
Some time ago, Robert the Prosecutor had moved into the guest house building where Violet was staying because he wanted to know as soon as possible what decision Violet would make. The guest building was very close to the main hospital building, three to five minutes on foot. That's why doctors and other hospital staff, who usually lived far away, sometimes used the rooms there.
As much as Robert staying there had annoyed Violet at first, now it was up to her to turn it into an opportunity. Robert had a business briefcase that he always carried with him, in which he kept all the files on this case. The first day Violet had come to the hospital, when he had bribed her to give him Eddie's verdict right away, Violet had realized that everything was in that briefcase. If she could get to that bag and the files, she could find out who had reported Eddie, the name was there somewhere. The only problem was how to get to the briefcase.
Violet turned to Eddie and asked gently, “What day is it?”
She asked this question every time they met, because she wanted to make sure Eddie hadn't lost his sense of time and space. Eddie leaned his elbows on the table and rested his head in his hands. He licked his lips and smiled.
“It's Wednesday.”
A smile appeared on his face, but it was quickly wiped away. “Violet, can I ask you something?”
“Yes,” Violet said, nodding her head.
Eddie took a deep breath and said, “What's your favorite music? I mean, something that when you listen to it, you say, 'This song was written for me.' ”
Such a question was unexpected for Violet. She thought for a while. “I think it's Dream On, ” she said. “Why do you ask?”
Eddie smiled. “Uh, well. I’m just curious.”
There was silence for a while. Then Eddie whispered, “I hope I never have to use it.”
After a few seconds of silence, Violet decided to go back to her routine questions. Time passed so fast when she was talking to him that sometimes she lost track of time. When their therapy session was over, Violet stood up and held out her hand.
Eddie shook it and gave her a wicked smile. “I think that's as close as I'm going to get to a woman during my stay here,” he said, unable to contain his laughter.
Violet could imagine that her face was as red as a tomato from blushing. She turned away, holding herself back from laughing.
When she walked out the hospital door and breathed in the gloomy air, she thought, “Jesus, Eddie, I hope you're crazy. Please be crazy. Because if you're not, you're going to die.”
As she entered the building she was staying in and started to go up the stairs, she stopped in front of Robert's room. Suddenly she had an idea and she rang the doorbell.
Robert opened the door without making any sense. It wasn't hard to guess that he wasn't expecting to see Violet.
“Violet... What are you doing here?” he said, with surprise in his eyes.
“I came to talk to you about what position I want to rise to,” Violet replied, placing a smile on her face that she thought was impressive.
Robert leaned against the doorway, crossing his arms skeptically. He was so tall that Violet had to look up when he spoke to her.
“The last time this came up, you said I was garbage and that you felt sorry for people like me. What changed your mind?”
Violet smiled, raising her hand in the air as if chasing imaginary dust. “I think after my conversations with Eddie Munson, I'm more and more convinced that he's not crazy. He could really be a brutal killer and he could be pretending to be crazy. So in that case I want to know what I stand to gain if I write a report saying that he is not crazy. If I hear what I want, maybe the paper you want will be on your desk tomorrow.”
The satisfied smile spread across Robert's face in a way he couldn't hide, maybe he didn't want to hide it. He stepped aside and motioned for Violet to come in.
When Violet came in, all she had to do was find that file. She was sure she could do it. She had to . Because she was risking her career and even her own life for Eddie. She didn't know why she was doing it. But she felt like she must.
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In the evening, Eddie was laying in his cell, staring at the ceiling, wondering how the time had passed. He had no choice anyway, there were so limited things to do here.
Suddenly there was the sound of the door creaking. He looked up to see John standing in the doorway and gesturing with his head for him to come in with him.
They walked together to the main hallway. He grabbed John's arm, pulled him a little and leaned into his ear. “How are we going to get upstairs with all these guards here?”
John put a finger to his lips, signaling him to be quiet. Thank God, this man always had a plan. He walked over to a huge patient standing in front of him. He went over and whispered something in the patient’s ear and patted him on the shoulder. Then he came back to Eddie, leaned against the stair railing and smiled. “Now watch,” he said.
The effect of what John whispered in his ear was immediate: The patient became enraged and suddenly attacked the nurse. Other nurses and guards rushed to the area, trying to pull the patient back. Other patients were screaming and running away, trying to find shelter in panic. Some acted as if nothing had happened and walked away, or continued to live in their own imaginary world.
John nudged Eddie with a tap on the shoulder. “Come on, hurry up, let's go now.”
As they hurried up the stairs, Eddie asked curiously, “What did you say to him?”
John chuckled and said laughing, “I just told him that nurse called him a chicken, he hates that word.”
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Eddie and John hurried into the manager's office and closed the door. While John was checking the door, Eddie rushed to the phone on the desk. He started dialing the number and held the receiver to his ear.
“Hello?”
When he heard Steve's voice, Eddie felt something he hadn't felt in a long time: safety . Without wasting any more time, he quickly got to the point. “Steve, I don't have much time. I need you to come and pick me up tomorrow night. Meet me a few kilometers from the back door of the hospital around eight or nine o'clock at night. Okay? It's very important.”
Steve's voice was full of both surprise and concern, “Eddie? What are you talking about? How and where are you calling me? Listen, I need to tell you something very important.”
Eddie, keeping the conversation short, said, “I'll tell you everything, but I have to get out of here now. Will you come? Please tell me you're coming. My life is on the line.”
Steve took a deep breath on the phone. “Okay, I'll come, but listen to me - there's something you need to know -”
John suddenly gestured for Eddie to stop talking. Eddie hung up the phone without letting Steve finish his sentence.
They heard someone's footsteps approaching, John rushed over and they ducked under the table and hid. There was the sound of the door opening and Eddie gasped and used his hand to cover his mouth. The person who had entered the room took a few steps and then stopped. A few seconds later there were more footsteps and the door closed again.
Eddie finally let go of the breath he hadn't even realized he had been holding for how many minutes. He took a deep breath and stood up, but his head was spinning and he grabbed one of the shelves on the side for balance. A few files fell to the floor with the impact of his hand.
John quickly bent down to pick them up. “Wait a minute...” he said. He waved the file in his hand and showed it to Eddie. “Do you know what this is, Eddie?”
Eddie shook his head negatively.
“This is our ticket out of here,” John continued. “When they arrested me, all the evidence I found was left in my car. I was hoping maybe they'd find it and come and get me out of here. I've been waiting all this time for them to come and save me. But these files have been here all along, the bastards have been holding on to them all this time. Of course they did... what was I thinking?”
“But isn't this Manager Wilson's office?” Eddie asked in surprise.
John nodded his head in agreement and replied, “He's in on it. What do you think, Eddie? A doctor in his hospital is going to riddle his patients full of holes and inject who knows what into their bodies and the manager doesn't know about it? You're so clueless.”
What John said was true. Eddie scratched his head in thought and whispered, “You're right,” as he looked at the file in John's hand.
John continued to shake the file. “We need to keep this until tomorrow. After we escape from here tomorrow night, we can use it to shut this place down for good. Arthur will get the death row he deserves. And you and me, man - we'll be found innocent.’’
Eddie was silent for a moment, then looked at John and spoke. “John... Maybe I shouldn't come. No one would notice if you ran away, but the whole world knows me. They'll come after us. You can clear yourself, but when they catch me, they'll either bring me back here or buy me a one-way ticket to the death chair.”
John put a hand on Eddie's shoulder and said, “Let's get out of here first. We'll prove you're innocent too. I know that, Eddie.”
Eddie frowned and said, “You may know that. I know that too. But there's only one person who can prove my innocence, and she's been in a coma for three years. Even if she wakes up, it's impossible for her to remember what happened. Every day she doesn't wake up, she loses brain functions. The doctors say it will be a miracle if she can even remember her own name.”
John looked at Eddie with determination on his face and said, “I'll never let them kill you, Eddie. You're my only friend.''
For a moment Eddie did nothing but nod his head and smile.
They hurried back to their cell, without being seen by anyone, Eddie hiding the file in the cover of his pillow. But it wasn't long before a siren sounded. It was so loud that Eddie had to cover his ears with his hands. When the electric doors all opened automatically, the whole corridor was flooded with lights, the sounds from the patients' cells mingling together. Eddie nervously stepped out into the corridor. All the other patients were doing the same. When John, who was in the cell two doors down from Eddie, came out, he looked at him from where he was. Something was clearly wrong.
Manager Wilson and the guards behind him were walking briskly. One by one, the guards were going into the rooms, forcing out the patients who wouldn't come out of their rooms and putting them in line down the corridor. Each one was looking for something inside the cells.
Manager Wilson shouted, “There have been little thieves in my room. Pray that what they stole doesn't come out of one of your rooms.''
Dr. Arthur was there too. He pointed to Eddie and said, “Look in his cell.''
Two guards ran into Eddie's room. Eddie was shaking but he was trying to stay calm, he kept making eye contact with John - John was no different. He was scared too.
When the guard came out with the file, he said, “I think we found the thief,” and smiled slyly.
“Get him,” Manager Wilson ordered, breathing angrily.
The guards grabbed Eddie's hands roughly, clasped them behind his back and began handcuffing him. When Eddie tried to break free, he was kicked in the stomach.
As the guards started dragging him down the corridor, he barely looked up and looked at John, who was trying to get past the guards to get to Eddie, shouting, “Stop! He didn't do it! It was me! I stole them and I put them in Eddie's room so it wouldn't be found on me.''
Dr. Arthur nodded his head in satisfaction, as if he had expected this, and gestured to John, “Take this partner in crime to my operating room.’’ Then he turned to Eddie and said, “And this one, take him to the electroshock room.’’
Eddie's eyes widened in horror. 'Me?' he thought, 'God, help me,' he pleaded inwardly. But the God who could help him had long since left this hospital.
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Eddie was struggling, four people were trying to hold him still on the bed and they could hardly contain him. “Let me go! You won't get away with this!” but no one paid any attention to him.
On the bed were leather handcuffs used to bind his hands and feet. The nurses tied Eddie's hands and feet and squeezed them tight. He struggled, but he couldn't move. He began to watch the ceiling. The light from the fluorescent lamps blinded him. Dr. Arthur walked slowly to the head of the bed and looked at Eddie. Eddie could see him backwards, he couldn't hold back his tears.
Eddie said desperately, “Please let me go. I won't tell anyone what I saw. I swear I won't tell anyone,” he begged. Dr. Arthur put something gel-like on a wooden stick and began to rub it on Eddie's temples.
“We need to make sure you don't tell anyone, son,” he said, bringing his face closer to Eddie's. Then he gestured to the nurse and told them to hook up what looked like headphones to the machine next to him. But the machine had two iron balls the size of tennis balls where they were supposed to go in the ears. They placed them on Eddie's temples.
“I beg you,” Eddie moaned, ”please don't do this.''
But Dr. Arthur didn't seem to care, he shoved a cloth like a piece of tissue into Eddie's mouth and said, “You'd better bite down on this, Munson.''
Eddie's tears flowed and mingled with his hair. He closed his eyes tightly one last time, the last thing he saw before he closed them was the light from the fluorescent lamp on the ceiling.
“Let's start with 30 volts,” Arthur said, taking a deep breath.
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Violet put her coffee mug under the sink and turned on the water, she had a rough night.
Prosecutor Robert Hills was a smarter man than she thought. But he had his weaknesses. He loved winning and couldn't stand losing. He would do anything, even sell his soul, to get the “Eddie is not crazy report” he wanted from Violet. Violet had to have a long talk with him during the night.
Robert Hills didn't trust her at all, just as Violet didn't trust him.
Violet had asked him to show her the photos of the victims again. He had laid everything in his big brown bag on the coffee table in the center. All the files from the case were on the coffee table at that moment. Robert had even told her a few statements and details that had not been released to the public. This man really believed that Eddie wasn't crazy and that he was a murderer.
''First it starts with nightmares. He shows you your greatest fear. You think it's a simple nightmare, so you don't dwell on it. Then you start to see it when you're awake. As your death approaches, Vecna starts to show himself. He wants you to join him. Your soul will give him strength. That's why your greatest traumas feed him.''
That's what Eddie said in his statement. As she read the file in her hand, she couldn't understand how Robert could know all this crap and still insist that Eddie wasn't crazy. According to him, Eddie was a fraud and he was making it all up to avoid the execution. Later that long night she asked him to make her some coffee.
And while he was doing that, she found out what Eddie had asked her to do. She found out who had reported him . She was so excited she didn't even sleep until the morning.
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As soon as she woke up in the morning, she came to the hospital with great excitement. She wanted to talk to Eddie as soon as possible.
She walked down the grand hallway to the common room, she smiled at Brendon who was coming across. He noticed Brendon's agitated state. He came over and leaned into her ear “Something terrible happened last night, Violet. You must see Eddie.”
Violet looked fearfully into his eyes. Brendon nodded for her to follow him. They entered a long corridor lined with rows of rooms and came to a room labeled “1208”. Eddie was sitting on his bed. He was staring expressionlessly at the wall in front of him, mumbling something.
She took an uneasy step into the room and looked at Brendon. Brendon nodded, confirming Eddie's state. Violet called out, hiding her fear, “Eddie?’’ She took another step closer to him. Eddie wasn't looking at her, just staring at the blank wall in front of him, mumbling, “Ed?” she called again. She was in front of him now, but Eddie's eyes still hadn't turned to her. She leaned down, put her hands on his cheeks and said, “Can you hear me?’’
Eddie's eyes were still focused on the wall, but when Violet pushed his hair back, she realized that he had red bruises on both sides of his forehead, on his temples. She recoiled in horror, but grabbed his face in her hands again and said quickly, “Eddie, look at me. Look at me.'' This time Eddie's eyes were focused on her, but his gaze was meaningless. “Eddie, do you know who I am? Do you remember me?” Violet said, her voice shaking.
Eddie closed his eyes tightly and swallowed, then paused, “You…’’ There was silence for a moment, then he continued slowly, “You're Violet.’’
She sniffled her runny nose. Her throat was knotted with pain. “Come on, let's get you to bed, sweetheart, come on.’’ She held his head and rested it against the pillow, then she covered him with a blanket.
Eddie started watching the ceiling. When she turned her back and was about to leave, Eddie took her hand. He was whispering something. She bent her head and brought her ear close to his lips.
He whispered, “I gotta get out of here.''
The heart didn't need to be stabbed to shatter, because those words were enough to tear Violet's heart in two. She walked out the door and saw Brendon leaning against the wall in the hallway, waiting for her. She was panting. She spoke through clenched teeth. Because she knew that if she let it go, she would start crying.
“Who did this?” she asked angrily.
Brendon was as angry as Violet. “Manager Wilson and Dr Arthur,’’ he said.
Violet asked, confused, “Why?’’
Brendon took a deep breath and said, “Eddie and John took something from his room. I don't know what it was, they found it when they were searching the rooms.''
Violet had terror in her eyes. “John? Where is he? Did they do this barbaric thing to him too? My God!” she said, fear in her voice.
Brendon shook his head in the negative and said, “They have him in a cell. It's in the basement of the hospital, no light, no windows, a disgusting place used for punishment.’’
Violet took a pen and paper out of her purse and wrote the names of some medicines on them, “Take these and give them to Eddie. I have a little business.’’
Her eyes were burning with anger and she couldn't see anything else. The way Eddie looked at her shattered her heart. He didn't deserve this. No one deserved this. All along she had believed Eddie was innocent, that maybe the people who had committed the murders had framed him because Eddie was mentally unstable. Maybe Eddie was a scapegoat. But Eddie was innocent.
She came to Manager Wilson's office, opened the door hard and walked in. Wilson lowered his glasses in surprise as she slammed the door wide open.
Wilson said, “Mrs. George, you may not know the ethics of where you come from, but here you have to knock before you enter the room.’’
She slammed the bag in her hand hard on the table. “What is electroshock? What century are you living in? Do you realize that what you are doing is against the human rights of the world? I will report you. You are done, Mr. Wilson. You’re so done. Enjoy your last days here,” she roared.
“Watch your tone, little lady,” Wilson said, pointing a finger menacingly.
Just then the door opened and several guards came in, ready to take her out of the room. Violet was sure her voice could be heard throughout the hospital.
Wilson said, “I told you the day you came here that my hospital and my rules apply, and in some states electroshocking up to a certain volt is still allowed, and it's not against the law. Those little thieves should have paid for what they did. You are in no position to question my techniques.''
Violet was at the point of losing her profession. “If your fucking techniques cause someone to die, are you going to take responsibility because ‘my hospital, my rules’? He could have died! You turned an innocent man’s brain into mashed potatoes, you bastard!” she shouted.
Wilson stood up angrily and slammed his hands on the table. “The man you call innocent is 23 years old and the murderer of four people. His most recent victim was a 15-year-old little girl. He put her in a coma. If by some miracle she wakes up, she will never see again. She'll be blind for the rest of her life! It'll be a miracle if she even wakes up! When they told me they were sending you here, I was happy that a professional doctor was coming. But I see that your interest in your patient has taken precedence over a doctor-patient relationship . Since you're so defensive of a murderer!’’
Violet answered him with a sharp look. “This is not something I'm saying just for Eddie, Wilson. Listen to me carefully. When Eddie recovers, I'm going to take it to court that he's in danger here, that his life is at risk. I'm going to have him transferred to another hospital. And you won't be able to keep torturing any patient the way you tortured Eddie and John.''
Wilson scratched his head with a laugh. “As I remember, John Forest was not your patient. Did you know that he burned down a nursing home and killed 15 people, including babies?”
He turned around and took out a file and threw it across the table in front of her. “John Forest” was written on it. Violet picked up the file and began to shuffle through it quickly.
Wilson took a deep breath and sighed, “John Forest is a severe manic depressive. He lives with bipolar at its most extreme. He lives with an identity he made up in his own head. He has schizophrenia. He thinks he's a police officer who's trapped here. And he lives in a world where he says we trapped him to keep him here. He was making progress with his treatment, but since Eddie got here, he's relapsed. We expected it to progress once he found someone who believed what he said. They stole this file last night.’’ He walked to the door. ‘’Come with me.’’
Violet grabbed her purse, which she had thrown on the table, started to go after Manager Wilson and followed him. They entered a room that was used as an infirmary. A few patients were lying on stretchers, moaning in pain, others were asleep. A few nurses were giving some of them soup.
As they walked quickly past the beds, Violet saw John. He had an IV in his arm and was asleep. She had never spoken to him before but she knew who he was, he and Eddie spent a lot of time together.
Wilson raised his hands in the air as if in surrender. “As you can see, Mrs. George, we are not monsters. We've sedated him and we've restarted his medication. I'm sorry about what happened to Mr. Munson, but it had to be done. It's the only way we could keep him from getting confused. He will be fine in a day or two. None of his vital functions have been damaged anyway. He can eat, talk and go to the toilet on his own. The memories that are gone will come back in time. He will just remember some things faintly, that's all.’’
And then he walked away. Stupid bastard. Just because John was mentally ill didn't justify all the things they had done to John and Eddie, she thought. She went and sat down next to John. His eyes were closed but obviously he wasn't asleep, he was just pretending to be asleep. He had heard everything.
“What have they done to Eddie?” he asked quietly.
Violet picked up the file on the bedside table next to John's gurney, checked John's medical tests and answered briefly “Electroshock.’’
He opened his eyes, “Assholes. I'll make them pay for all this. They set me up. It's all lies. I was a policeman, Violet, I was trying to save Eddie and myself. You have to believe me, they're holding me captive here.’’
Violet could only nod. “I believe you,” she said, but she wasn't. Everything was written in the file she was holding in her hand. John felt his eyes grow heavy, unable to bear the effects of the drugs any longer. Violet looked at him sadly, poor man, she thought to herself. She put the files back on the table and left.
She didn't have the strength to deal or talk to anyone any more today, and apparently Eddie wasn't in any condition to talk either. So she thought it best to go back to her room. She was trying to digest and understand everything that had happened. When she heard a voice, which disgusted her even to hear it, she reluctantly stopped and turned around.
Dr Arthur was smiling at her with a satisfied look on his face. “Where are you going, Mrs. George? I thought you'd be attending our choir show tonight.’’
Violet looked him up and down with a look of contempt. “I'm not in the mood to listen to children dressed as angels babbling about how everything will be fine, doctor. But you should definitely go. You obviously need it. Maybe your conscience, which has been lost inside of you, will tingle a little and you will remember where your heart is.’’
She left him there and didn't even look back. Something made Violet feel uncomfortable, something about what the manager and John had said didn't make any sense. Separately it made sense, but put together it was a complicated maze. If John was an arsonist who thought he was a policeman and almost got treatment, and if the file he stole was his own patient file, then why did they electroshock Eddie ?
What were they afraid that Eddie would find out?
Violet had spent the day in her room at the guesthouse, going through the files she had received from Robert. It was almost four in the evening. After taking the last sip of her coffee, she got up and looked out the window at Chassell Hospital. Eddie was probably asleep now, probably from the drugs he was taking. She had prescribed him something to help him recover more quickly and take the pain away. Then she went into the room and threw herself on the bed.
She was dreaming. She knew it was a dream. She was in a beautiful house with a garden. She looked out of the kitchen window into the backyard. Two little children were running around in the grass, laughing. The joy between them was like pure joy piercing the sky. She called out to them as she continued to chop the vegetables in front of her: “Be careful!”
The older one turned to her and smiled. How much he looked like her. She felt a breath behind her. Then arms wrapped around her stomach from behind. She felt a small kiss on the back of her neck. His warm breath tickled her neck. He leaned down and whispered in her ear, “What's my darling wife cooking today?'' That was Eddie's voice.
He hugged her tighter as he smiled, he started kissing her neck. “Eddie, stop. The kids are outside. They'll see.” she said, giggling.
He laughed out loud. Eddie's laughter was full and deep, like a depth that made Violet's insides tremble for a moment. She put down the knife and put it on his hands that were holding her stomach.
She backed away quickly as she felt the wetness on her hand, blood on her hands.
She turned around in horror.
Eddie was gone.
She looked out the window. The children were gone.
She ran out into the yard. “Eddie! Where are you? Eddie!’’ The peaceful moment was suddenly swallowed by a deadly silence.
She was scared. Had she hurt them? She would never do that. She entered the house and ran through the rooms one by one. When she got to the basement, she came out into a hospital corridor.
She followed the blood stains on the walls. Someone who had been injured had left and grabbed onto the walls on the way out. It could be Eddie, she thought. Finally she found a room with a red door when all the other doors were white.
As Violet stepped through the doorway, the air seemed to shift, thickening around her like an invisible fog. It wasn’t just an ordinary room—it was something alive, something breathing.
The walls were drenched in crimson. Not the dull red of paint, but the slick, glistening red of fresh blood. Thick rivulets oozed down the surfaces, some congealing into dark clots, while others left sticky trails that glistened in the dim light. The metallic tang of iron hung heavy in the air, invading her nostrils, making her stomach turn.
The floor was tacky beneath her feet. Each step produced a faint, sickening squelch as her shoes clung to the viscous surface. It was as if the room itself sought to hold her in place, pulling her deeper into its trap.
The walls seemed to move. Violet blinked, uncertain if her eyes were betraying her. No, she was sure now— they were pulsing. Slow, rhythmic, like the steady breath of some unseen, grotesque creature. The walls expanded and contracted in a hypnotic cadence, as if the room itself were alive, feeding on her presence.
Her gaze lifted to the ceiling, where ancient, unreadable symbols had been etched in dark, drying blood. They formed a language that defied comprehension, twisting her thoughts into knots with every glance. The symbols seemed to shift when she tried to focus on them, as though they were aware of her gaze. The more she stared, the more they burned into her mind like searing hot knives.
A low hum vibrated in the air—a whisper just below the threshold of hearing. Voices, layered and interwoven: men, women, children—all speaking in a language that gnawed at her sanity. She couldn’t understand the words, but she felt them. They crawled inside her head, coiling around her thoughts like serpents.
She turned toward the door, her heart pounding. But the door… was gone. Where it had once stood, there was now only more of that blood-soaked wall. There was no way out.
It was as if someone was talking to her. She couldn't understand where the voice was coming from, but it seemed to be coming from inside her head. “Violet,” said a deep, stern voice.
“You have suffered so much. But it is over now. I'm here to give you the freedom you deserve.’’
She closed her eyes tightly. She thought of Eddie's face. His angelic face.
When she opened her eyes again, she was between the police cars. And her sister was crying and hugging her, saying, “I can't believe that bastard did this to you. It's over. It's over now.'' For a moment she looked away in surprise, she was remembering this day.
This was the day she feared the most and swore she would always forget. One of her patients had attacked her. He had grabbed her by the throat and choked her until her eyes went dark. She was the one who had gotten him out of the hospital and she was paying for the wrongest decision she had ever made. At the last moment, in a last ditch effort, she hit him on the head with the frame she was holding out her hand and the frame shattered, broke. She had hit him so hard that one of the shards of glass had cut a vein in his forehead. She looked as if she had taken a blood bath from the blood that poured on her. When she came out, the help she had already called for had just arrived. Her sister was getting out of one of the police cars, crying. “I can't believe that jerk did this to you. It's over. It's over now.''
She was reliving that damn day in her dream. She was reliving it over and over again. She was forcing herself to wake up, but it was no use. Eventually she was sitting in the back of the ambulance again, she had forgotten how many times this endless cycle had happened.
Suddenly she felt the crowd slow down. Someone came out of the building where she was staying, it wasn't a person. It was some kind of, something, a thing. His whole body seemed to be on fire, maybe wrapped in ivy. She couldn't understand what it was. It came towards her, slowly but surely. When he looked into her eyes, she felt her soul being pulled.
“Your time is coming, Violet,” the creature said. It was the same voice she heard in her head, “You will join me.''
The moment she opened her eyes, she jumped out of bed in fear. Someone was banging insistently on the door. She poured water from the pitcher on the nightstand into a glass. It could have been the worst and most realistic nightmare she had ever had. She was out of breath, her heart beating like it was going to pierce her chest. She was sweating like she had literally run hundreds of meters.
She took a deep breath, turned on the light and looked at the clock on the wall. It was almost ten o'clock at night. She wondered who had come at this hour. She slowly went and looked through the hole in the door. Someone with long brown hair was waiting in front of the door. It was not someone she recognized. She thought it was one of the nurses or security guards working at the hospital and opened the door.
’’How can I help you?’’
The man looked worried and said, “You are Violet George, aren't you?’’
She nodded her head. She looked at him with curious eyes, waiting for him to explain.
“Hi, I'm Steve Harrington.’’
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Violet poured the coffee into the cup and handed it to Steve. Then she walked over to the window and looked outside. Only a few lights were on in the hospital. They would turn them all off soon. The church choir's performance should have been over by now, she thought. After sighing, she pulled the curtain closed and sat on the couch. ’’Did Eddie tell you what he was going to talk about? At least, did he mention what it was about?’’
Steve shook his head. ’’He just told me to come and pick him up from the back door of the hospital. He sounded really scared, like his life depended on it. He said he’d explain everything after I got him. I’ve been waiting for him for a few hours, but no one came. I thought he might be in trouble.’’
She rubbed her forehead with her hand. So Eddie somehow knew what was going to happen to him, and that’s why he wanted to escape , she thought. But now she was even more curious—what did he learn that made him want to run away so urgently?
She sighed, ’’Actually, Eddie got into a bit of trouble because he trusted a friend. One of the other patients, his name is John. He's been receiving treatment at this hospital for some time—I just found out today. He told Eddie that he was a police officer who was lured into a trap and brought here. But in reality, he's an arsonist, though he doesn’t realize it. He tricked Eddie into trying to escape with him.’’
Steve gave a bitter smile. ’’Don't take this the wrong way, Doctor, but from your tone, it doesn't sound like you really believe that.’’
Violet nodded. ’’There's something that’s been bothering me. On my first day here, I met a patient at the door named Mitsy. It was obvious she had a mental illness, but physically, she looked healthy. Later that same day, I learned that another patient named Mitsy had died of severe pneumonia.’’
Steve was staring at her with curiosity.
Violet continued, ’’The patient who died had been bedridden for a long time, unable to walk. They told me it was just a coincidence of names.’’
’’But you didn’t believe them,’’ Steve said, narrowing his eyes as if waiting for her next sentence.
Violet nodded again. ’’I searched the records room where they keep files on all the patients, looking for someone named Mitsy. And what do you think I found? Nothing. There was no other patient named Mitsy. The woman I saw that day and the corpse were the same person. But that brings up another question. How did that woman end up in that condition within just a few hours?’’
Steve was nervously biting his lip. ’’Do you think Eddie wanted to escape because he figured out the reason behind all of this?’’
’’Most likely, yes. He was going to tell me everything anyway. He just made a deal with me—if I found out who reported him, he would explain everything. Now, I’m not even sure if he’ll remember everything clearly…’’ Violet sighed. ’’Right now, there's only one person who knows what really happened. And I’m not sure if I can trust him—John Forest.’’
Steve stared at her, his eyes wide with urgency. ’’Wait a minute. Did you find out? Did you tell Eddie?’’
She looked at him, confused. ’’Tell him what?’’
Steve leaned forward, his voice more intense now. ’’Who reported him to the police! Did you tell Eddie?’’
She shook her head. ’’No.’’ She didn’t understand why Steve was suddenly so nervous. Clearly, he knew the answer to that question too. But deep down, something told her that Steve didn’t want Eddie to find out.
Steve stood up anxiously and began pacing around the room. "Violet, listen to me… we need to get Eddie out of there. Because…" He trailed off, struggling to find the right words, running his fingers through his brown hair, scratching his head as if it would help.
"Steve, he's my responsibility. If you know something about him, you need to tell me. I wouldn’t do anything to put his life in danger." Violet’s voice was calm but firm, urging him to continue.
Steve took a deep breath, exhaling slowly. "If I tell you… you won’t believe me." He hesitated for a moment, then a smile flickered across his face, as if an idea had just struck him.
"But I can show you."
They started walking deeper into the forest. About seven minutes had passed since Violet first thought this was a bad idea, but it was already too late to turn back. She had known Steve for less than an hour, and yet here she was, following a stranger into the woods.
"There it is!" Steve said, pointing ahead.
Violet squinted through the trees and saw a narrow path. At the end of it, a yellow car was parked. "I didn’t know there was a road here," she murmured.
Steve smiled and ran toward the car. He knocked on the back window, and after a moment, the door opened. A few young people climbed out, all looking around 18 or 19 years old.
Steve introduced them briefly. "These are Dustin, Will, and Jane."
Violet smiled and greeted them, and they nodded in return. Then they all got into the car. The drive was quiet for the most part. Violet only asked how they had found her, and unsurprisingly, the answer was the newspapers. Ever since Eddie Munson had been caught and sent to the hospital, it had been the only topic in every news outlet and newspaper.
As the minutes passed, Violet's curiosity grew.
They eventually pulled up in front of the city’s 24-hour library. It was past midnight, so the place looked deserted, except for a lone clerk dozing at the front desk.
They made their way to one of the computers. Steve showed her some old newspaper clippings. A series of strange events that had happened in Hawkins.
"So, Eddie Munson isn’t the strangest thing to happen in this town," Violet thought.
Experiments on children, a closed-down factory, townspeople claiming to have seen a creature resembling a dog, people disappearing without a trace… One article even mentioned a girl rumored to have extraordinary powers.
Violet’s questioning gaze locked onto Dustin and asked.
“Alright, I’ve read all this, but do you have any actual proof that any of it is real?”
Dustin, calm and confident, smiled again as he repeated his words.
“The proof is sitting right in front of you.”
As the sentence echoed in her mind, Violet looked at him with a puzzled expression. What did he mean by that? Her eyes narrowed slightly as she tried to piece it together.
And then it happened. The chair... it started to move.
At first, she felt a faint tremor, then slowly, it began to rise off the ground. Her hands instinctively gripped the sides of the chair, as if clinging to the last remnants of stability. Fear climbed up her spine like a cold wave. Her mind split into two conflicting thoughts: This can’t be real. You’re imagining things. Stay rational, Violet!
But another voice challenged her logic: Are you stupid? You’re flying!
Her eyes darted to Jane. The young girl had her hand raised, fingers extended as if she were pulling invisible strings. Wherever her hand moved, the chair followed. Jane’s face was calm, devoid of any hesitation. It was as if she did this every day, as casually as breathing.
Violet’s heart pounded in her chest, each beat reverberating through her ribcage. Her breaths quickened, short and shallow, barely filling her lungs before rushing back out. Breathing wasn’t enough. The world around her seemed to defy gravity, the laws of reality bending before her eyes.
When the chair finally descended and her feet touched solid ground again, the trembling in her body didn’t stop. Her hands shook uncontrollably, her fingers feeling like they no longer belonged to her. Her knees felt weak, as if they might give out at any moment.
Fear wrapped around her mind like a suffocating fog. This wasn’t a simple fear. This was the sensation of reality itself cracking. She was witnessing the unraveling of the universe’s rules.
Will, moved quickly. He rushed to her side and offered a glass of water. “Are you okay?” he asked softly, his voice barely above a whisper.
Violet reached out to take the glass, but her fingers trembled so badly she feared she might drop it. She managed a small sip, the cold water sliding down her throat, but her breathing remained erratic.
As she tried to steady herself, Will’s file slipped from under his arm, scattering a few newspaper clippings and sheets of paper across the floor. But Violet’s eyes were still fixed on the empty space in front of her, on Jane, and on what had just happened.
Her mind raced toward an undeniable truth.
Eddie wasn’t crazy.
The stories he told, the ones everyone dismissed as paranoia, as nonsense… They were true. All of them were true .
The realization turned Violet’s thoughts upside down. A deep sense of helplessness echoed within her, like falling into a bottomless pit. Knowing that Eddie wasn’t insane was comforting in one sense, but that comfort was short-lived. Because it meant something far worse.
Eddie was trapped in a truth too big to explain.
And no one would believe him.
No one in court would listen to these stories. No one would believe in his innocence. The entire world would see him as guilty, and that would be Eddie’s death sentence.
Will and Dustin hurriedly gathered the scattered drawings and newspaper clippings from the floor.
"Stop!" Violet’s voice cracked, still trembling with fear. "Can you hand me that?"
Dustin grabbed the drawing she was pointing at and passed it to her. Steve was saying something about how Will had drawn all of them, but Violet's focus was locked on the creature staring back at her from the paper. The same creature that haunted her dreams.
When she had seen this monster in her nightmare, she had assumed it was just a figment of her imagination, influenced by the files she had read. Like how after watching a horror movie, you dream about being hunted by the killer. But she had never told anyone about that dream. And now, here it was—the creature, identical in every detail.
Jane noticed Violet studying the drawing intently. "Why are you looking at it like that? Did you see it?"
Violet nodded slowly. "Is this... Vecna?"
"Yes." Steve, leaning against one of the bookshelves, crossed his arms over his chest.
"But that's not even our biggest problem right now," Dustin added.
Violet’s brow furrowed in confusion. "What are you talking about? What could be worse than this ?"
Will, with that familiar expression of delivering bad news, spoke quietly. "Max woke up."
Violet looked at them, uncomprehending.
"Maxine Mayfield," Steve clarified.
Her blood ran cold. Was this some kind of contest to deliver the worst possible news one after the other?
"Max Mayfield?" Violet repeated, her voice barely above a whisper. "But... she’s the one who reported Eddie."
Steve stepped closer, kneeling in front of her, and took her trembling hands on his own, as if trying to steady them.
"Yes," he said softly. "Because that’s not Max. Vecna is using her as a host. We don’t know if he knows that we’re aware of it. That’s why we have to be extremely careful. Max is still in there somewhere, just like Will was years ago. Vecna was controlling him like a puppet, using him as a spy. Vecna lived in the mind of someone connected to this world, gathering strength. It was his mother and brother who pulled him out of Will. And now, Vecna is doing the same to Max. We’re waiting for the moment when she’s at her weakest."
Violet sighed in disappointment. "If Vecna inside Max is Vecna, that means... Vecna who reported him is Vecna. And that means... when the court asks Max who did this to her, Max will say Eddie ."
Dustin shook his head. "They'll execute him. That's why you need to get Eddie out of there."
Violet pointed to herself, stunned. "Do I need to get him out of there?"
Steve said, "We need to go back. We have to protect the town. Listen to me, Violet. Vecna is already after you. He'll eliminate anyone protecting Eddie. Take a walkman with you and put your favorite music in it. Never let it out of your sight. No matter the cost."
Violet now understood why Eddie had asked her for her favorite music. She had to pull herself together and accept what was happening as quickly as possible. There wasn’t even time to sit down and cry. Her and Eddie's lives were in danger.
Just as she was about to stand up, she turned back and sat at the computer. Everyone in the room was watching her with curious eyes. "I need to learn one more thing," she said. She typed "Fire at Sidney Nursing Home" into the search bar.
News about the fire popped up in front of her. She saw a photo taken by a journalist. Firefighters were trying to extinguish the flames. Police had put up yellow tape all around the Nursing Home. The public, waiting in fear for the fire to be put out, were watching the firefighters. And there he was . He was in the back, but she knew it was him. John Forest. He was wearing a police uniform. He was talking to the man next to him. She knew it. John was telling the truth. John was not lying, he was indeed working as a police officer at the time of the fire at the nursing home. But wait... Violet recognized the person he was talking to as well. He was also wearing a police uniform. It was none other than Brendon , the nurse from the hospital.
She printed out the article and stood up. "We can go now."
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Steve pulled the car into the entrance of the hospital. As Violet got out of the car with a heavy motion, Steve handed her the phone numbers, saying, “If anything goes wrong, you can reach these numbers.” Slowly, as he closed the car door, he looked at her one last time and continued, “Be careful.” For a few seconds, the sound of Steve’s car engine blended with the silence of the hospital, and then he quickly drove away.
Violet took a deep breath and entered the hospital. There was a faint chill in the air, as if the walls of this place always emitted a shiver. It was very quiet inside, as if everything had remained still on this night. She only occasionally heard the painful moans of patients coming from the corridors.
Every now and then, guards, nuns, and nurses appeared in the corridor, passing by quickly. But none of them seemed to notice Violet, or perhaps they preferred not to. After all, she was a doctor in this hospital.
As Violet walked toward Eddie's room, her heart beat a little faster with each step. At that moment, suddenly a hand grabbed her shoulder from behind, and the fingers swiftly and strongly covered her mouth. Violet was paralyzed with fear. She wanted to scream, but her voice only came out as a muffled gasp. Her hands were trembling as she tried to pull herself back, but the man's strength made every movement feel like a greater threat.
As he continued to pull her backward, Violet was being dragged quickly through a dark passage. The spaces between the rooms seemed to deepen her fear, as if each one was a hidden witness to her terror. At that moment, she felt the traces of the hospital’s cold, slick air on her hands, arms, and fingers.
As she was being dragged toward the janitor’s room, the person holding her turned her toward him. It was Brendon . He made a quiet "shh" gesture with his other hand. When she nodded in fear, he finally removed his hand from her mouth.
Violet yelled angrily, "What do you think you’re doing!?"
Brendon pulled a card from his pocket and then retrieved a file he had hidden on the side of his jacket and handed it to her.
He whispered, “This is my nurse card. It opens all the patient rooms except for the manager’s offices and the cells in the C block. With this, you can take Eddie out of his cell.’’ Then he handed her the file. ’’And you’ll protect this file like it’s everything. It contains all the filthy things Dr. Arthur has done. John and I were after this man. I was about to lose my job to get this file, so make sure it gets to its destination, Violet.”
Violet, filled with fear and adrenaline, listened intently to every word coming from his mouth, nodding her head to show she understood.
“How will I get Eddie out of here?” she asked.
Brendon gave her directions to a secret way leading from the C WARD . Violet didn’t want to go through the C WARD.
There were animal-like things there that had lost any trace of their humanity. She had been terrified the first time she saw it, and that was during the day. Now, it was well past midnight, and she was certain that Dr. Arthur kept his undead experiments locked up there. But there was no other way, she had to get Eddie out of here.
She ran to Eddie’s room. She showed Brendon’s card to the ID scanner next to the cell door and stormed inside. Eddie seemed surprised. He stood up. "Violet?" he murmured.
It was clear he couldn’t immediately tell who was coming through the darkness. His speech had improved, but his hands were still shaking from the effects of the electroshock. Violet ran to him and hugged him. She was there. In his arms.
Eddie stood still for a few seconds, still in shock. Then she felt Eddie’s arms wrap around her shoulders, pulling her toward him. He smelled her hair. Then he pulled back and held her face in his hands.
Eddie whispered, “What are you doing here? Someone will see you.”
Violet whispered back, “I know you’re innocent, Eddie. I’m getting you out of this hell.”
Eddie smiled and tightly squeezed Violet’s hand. Before they left the cell, Violet checked around to make sure no one was around. Once she was certain, they left together. They weren’t running, but they were walking quickly. Eddie held her hand and pulled her. “Wait!”
Violet turned to him, as if asking what was going on.
“We need to take John too. We can’t leave without him,” he said.
For a moment, she hesitated, feeling uneasy. Violet was already getting herself into enough trouble; she couldn’t take any more risks. “I’ll come back for him later. I promise. We have to go right now, ” she said.
But Eddie shook his head in disapproval. “He got you into trouble for me. When the files came out of my room, he took the blame. He could have said nothing, but he protected me. I owe him this.”
Violet reluctantly accepted it. It seemed Eddie wasn’t going to leave without John. She gripped Eddie’s hand tightly again, and they started running. Fortunately, the infirmary was on the ground floor. When they rushed inside, several patients started screaming. She was relieved that this was a mental hospital, because patients always screamed here, but they were rarely taken seriously.
They headed for the bed where John was. He was awake, sitting up, seemingly lost in thought. He was surprised when he saw them. “What are you doing here?”
“There’s no time for questions. We need to leave. Now!” Violet yelled.
They ran together and finally entered the corridor where the C WARD was. It literally smelled of death. They were running for their lives.
Violet only turned around for a second. Eddie and John were no longer there. The corridor seemed longer than it actually was.
She saw the creature - Vecna - coming toward her slowly from a distance.
Vecna's presence was emerging from the darkness like a shadow, and it was appearing at the end of the corridor. The sound of its footsteps was turning into a metallic, echoing growl. "Eddie?" she murmured in fear, unsure if Eddie and John could see her or Vecna anymore.
They were so close to the exit door. Eddie’s heart was about to jump out of his mouth from fear and running; his eyes were going dark as he ran. Sometimes, flashbacks of memories came and went in front of his eyes; the electroshock felt like it had reset his entire body. He couldn’t stop his hands from trembling, and there was an incredible pain in his head.
But the nightmare was now over. The only thing they needed to do to get out of this cursed asylum was take a few more steps, then they would be free. Eddie noticed for a moment that Violet had stopped. He called out to John, who was running ahead. "Wait!"
Eddie hurried toward Violet."Violet, come on. Why did you stop? We need to go. What are you waiting for?!"
She didn’t respond. She just kept staring down the corridor. Eddie waved his hand in front of Violet’s eyes.
"Can you hear me?! Violet, can you hear me?! Shit.. shit, I don’t like this. "
John came to them in a panic. "What’s wrong with her like this?!" he was saying.
Eddie didn’t know. No , it couldn’t be. He knew. This was exactly the same as what happened to Chrissy. Was Vecna taking her?
God, no. No.
Eddie quickly grabbed Violet by the shoulders and began shaking her violently. Then he cupped her face in his hands. "Violet! Can you hear me? Violet! Listen to me! You have to run from him! For God’s sake, you have to run from him!" Eddie was shouting in fear.
John timidly nudged Eddie; Eddie didn’t have a second to spare for him. "Wait, John!" he yelled, his tears fogging his eyes.
John was pointing down the corridor. The patients in the C ward were waking up, and there were sounds of banging on the doors of the cells. The patients in these cells were humanoid creatures who had survived Doctor Arthur’s experiments. Eddie thought, this can’t be happening now. Please, not now.
He turned back to Violet. He slapped his forehead a few times. "What was her favorite song? What was it?!" He couldn’t remember. He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to think, but it hurt so much. The places where they had electroshocked him were still aching.
"Dream on!" he said suddenly, with a brief expression of relief as he remembered the song, but… what were the lyrics? He squeezed his eyes shut again. He had to remember. He slapped his forehead a few more times.
He was shouting at himself, ’’Remember the lyrics, come on Eddie!’’
Then Violet suddenly began to rise slowly into the air. Eddie's eyes were focused on Violet's slowly levitating body and his pulse was getting faster and more erratic with each beat of his heart.
John was so terrified by the sight that he collapsed to the ground. He was screaming. ’’What the fuck is happening?!’’
Eddie swallowed hard, ’’No, no. Please don’t take her. I can’t lose her too.’’
taglist: @arabellagreenleaf @25bohemianmoons
#eddie munson x reader#eddie x fem!reader#eddie munson#eddie stranger things#stranger things fic#stranger things 4#stranger things#steve harrington#eddie munson x you#eddie munson x oc#eddie munson x female reader#eddie munson x y/n#eddie munson fanfic#eddie munson fandom#eddie munson fic#eddie munson fanfiction#eddie munson angst#american horror story
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He Comes Alive (Part 6)
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5
Summary: Your mother informs you that your father is missing and a search party is formed. You start to notice Leon's acting strange, too. In the weeks that follow, you start getting sick; it must just be stress, right?
Word Count: 5k
Pairing: vampire/plagas!Leon Kennedy x fem!reader (afab)
Disclaimer: This story is a work of fiction. Actions depicted in this story are not condoned in real life. You are responsible for your own content consumption. If any of the following warnings trigger you, please read at your own risk. Minors do not interact, this story is 18+ only.
Warnings: Biting, blood, gore, murder, unprotected p in v, masterbation, oral (m and f receiving), stalking, pet names, kidnapping, breeding kink, blood play/kink, age gap, dubcon, pregnancy, DEAD DOVE: DO NOT EAT [More warnings may be added in future entries]
A quick reminder that I no longer do tag lists
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Leon walks through the front door, glancing over at the kitchen clock as he walks through; it’s just past three in the morning. He takes a moment to toss the shirt clutched in his left hand into the washing machine. He then makes his way up the stairs, into the master bedroom and stopping in the threshold of the master bathroom, checking to make sure his angel is still asleep. He smirks upon seeing she is out like a light still; the sleeping drug he laced her drink with last night is working wonders. She was asleep by 8 last night.
Satisfied that she’s asleep, he walks into the bathroom, softly closing the door and turning on the light, revealing that from his head to just above his hips, with the exception of one spot on his pants where he had wiped his dominant hand off, he is covered in blood. He stares at himself in the mirror, his crimson eyes dilating at the sight of her father’s blood all over him.
Leon was surprised Mick had put up quite the fight, despite being unarmed; having chased him for a couple hours before finally wearing him down; he certainly had made it fun for Leon. When he had finally gotten him cornered, Leon made sure his death was slow and agonizing, after getting his fill of blood, of course. Fish and Game is going to have a really hard time finding what’s left of Mick.
Leon turns around, turning the shower on and letting it warm up, taking a moment to take off the rest of his clothing before stepping into the shower to clean himself up. After getting all the blood off and ensuring the shower is clean, he steps out, putting on a pair of sweatpants and retracing his steps to ensure he didn’t drip or get blood on anything. Once he’s satisfied that he left no trace of blood behind, he returns to the master bedroom, to his sleeping angel.
Upon entering the bedroom, he stands at the foot of the bed for a moment, admiring her sleeping form. He leans down, gently pulling the comforter off her. She’s lying on her back, wearing a thin white tank top and light pink underwear with lace on the hem, having a small pink bow in the middle. Leon can’t help but think how perfect that is. Beneath that little bow, he can sense that his seed is growing inside her; the larvae having successfully attached itself to the embryo.
Overcome with emotion, Leon gingerly climbs onto her, placing his lips onto her lower stomach and giving tender kisses as his hands rub up and down the sides of her thighs and hips. She stirs in her sleep, letting out a soft groan as she begins to awaken.
“Leon…? Your hair’s wet, did you take a shower?”
Leon lifts his head, giving her a gentle smile, “I did, I couldn’t sleep. Good morning, angel.”
He crawls over her before kissing her deeply, his fingers running through her hair as he slips his tongue into her mouth. She reciprocates without any hesitation, her arms draping around his shoulders to pull him closer. He brings his hand between their bodies, his fingers sliding across the soft fabric of her underwear, finding her clit and rubbing gentle circles into it, eliciting a soft moan from her as they continue to kiss.
The sound of the phone ringing downstairs instantly ruins the moment, Leon letting out a frustrated sigh as he glances over at the clock on the bedside table. It reads 5:42am.
“Let me get that, must be important if someone’s calling at this hour,” Leon says as he crawls off his angel.
He makes his way downstairs and into the kitchen, picking up the phone off the receiver, “hello?”
“Leon, it’s Sandi. I’m so sorry for calling this early. Is my daughter around?”
“It’s no trouble at all, no need to apologize,” he says before holding the phone away from his mouth to call out, “angel! It’s your mom!”
“I’m coming!” he hears her reply.
He listens intently at the soft sounds of her bare feet coming down the stairs. She comes into the kitchen, taking the phone from Leon.
“Hey Mom, what’s going on?” she asks.
Leon doesn’t need to hear what Sandi is saying to her, he knows exactly what she’s calling about. He watches as her face slowly transforms, filled with worry.
“No, neither of us have heard from Dad, why?”
Another pause, the worry on her face is then consumed by complete distress.
“What do you mean Dad’s missing?! Have you reported this to the police yet?”
It takes everything in Leon to not smile as an overwhelming sense of dominance and pride fills him, his eyes locked on his angel as she continues to talk on the phone.
“Alright, please keep us posted. If you need us, we’ll be there in a heartbeat. Take care Mom.”
She puts the phone on the receiver, letting out a heavy sigh.
“What was that all about, everything ok?” Leon asks, feigning concern.
She looks at him, “Mom woke up this morning and Dad wasn’t in bed. She thought maybe he had just fallen asleep in the recliner but when she went down to check, the TV was on but he was nowhere to be found.”
“Where the hell could he have gone?” Leon asks, shaking his head.
“That’s the weird part, I have no idea, unless…” he watches as she consumes herself in thought for a moment before continuing, “oh god… you don’t think he tried to go after the B.O.W. himself, do you?”
To be honest, Leon is impressed that she came to that conclusion, but knowing how much her father wanted to get Leon out of the picture, it shouldn’t have been a surprise. Still, her intellect just confirms to him that he picked the perfect mate, the perfect mother to his offspring.
Leon furrows his brows, rubbing them with his fingers before replying, “shit…”
She grabs the phone again, dialing her parents’ house.
“Mom it’s me, have you called the police to report Dad missing yet? I… I think I know where he went…”
You, your mother and Leon sit at your parents’ dining room in complete silence. Upon your arrival there, Chief Bob and several members of New Hampshire Fish and Game were there with your mother; you had let them know to search the woods behind the fairgrounds, suspecting that your father had gone out to take care of the B.O.W. himself. Or rather, as you told the officers, ‘the animal.’
What impresses you is how calm Leon is. There’s almost a strange aura of serenity surrounding him and it’s clearly having an effect on both you and your mother.
“Of course Mick would do something so stupid,” your mother says, breaking the silence as she stands up from the table, going over to the kitchen sink to do up the dishes from the impromptu breakfast she had made the three of you.
Leon then abruptly gets up, following your mother over to the sink, “Sandi, let me do these for you. You have enough to worry about right now.”
You watch as Leon gently moves your mother away from the sink, gesturing her to sit back down at the table, clearly not taking no for an answer. Your mother simply nods, sitting back down next to you as Leon begins washing the dishes.
“What was Mick hoping to accomplish, going out on his own like that?” Sandi asks as she sits back down next to you at the table, “he’s heard about what this animal has done to people!”
“I have no idea…” you lie.
But you do have an idea. Knowing your father, he wanted Leon out of the picture in any possible way he could get him out. No B.O.W.? No Leon. Mick’s dilemma was solved in his mind. A sudden knock at the door rips you from your thoughts and you watch as your mother immediately gets up to answer the door. You get up and follow her.
On the other side is Chief Bob and judging by the look on his face, he isn’t the bearer of good news; he clears his throat before he speaks, “we found… evidence of a struggle and this.”
Chief Bob lifts his clenched hand, opening it to reveal a ring caked in blood. You could recognize that plain titanium wedding band anywhere; it is your father’s.
“Sandi I’m so sorry… it’s likely that your husband is dead.”
The wailing sound your mother then begins to make is almost inhuman. She takes the ring from Chief Bob’s palm, clutching it in her own hands and falling to her knees. You feel tears form in your own eyes as well. Yeah, your father was a pain in the ass, yeah he was hard on you, but it was never from a place of malice. He always wanted what was best for you, being his only child.
You get on your knees, wrapping your arms around your mother in an attempt to comfort her. It’s then that the reality of your father being gone sinks in and you join your mother in sobbing. You look up to Leon, who’s still standing at the kitchen sink. You open your mouth to speak but you cut yourself short when you see Leon was looking at you, adverting his gaze away and back to the dishes. That in itself was strange, however what you had seen on his face unsettles you.
He had been smiling.
In the weeks that follow after your father’s death, you do everything in your power to distract yourself; not only of the fact that your father is gone but of Leon’s strange behavior that day. You try to brush it off as maybe his nerves getting the better of him, after all, everyone deals with grief and traumatic events differently. But the more you try not to think about it, the more you realize that each time another body had turned up, Leon was always weirdly calm.
Was your father right about him? Is he somehow involved?
“Don’t be stupid,” you say to yourself quietly as you climb out of bed to go into the bathroom, “he’s a government agent, he’s probably trained to be calm…”
You can hear Leon working in the living room downstairs as you go into the bathroom. A sudden wave of nausea had come over you, as it had the past few mornings. You close the bathroom door and barely make it to the sink when you retch up the contents of your stomach; granted it hadn’t been much. Your arms tremble as you prop yourself over the bathroom sink; at this point you’re dry heaving, your stomach in literal knots. After a few minutes, the nausea passes. You try to wrap your head around what has been making you sick the last few mornings, not recalling eating something that would make you this violently ill. One thought suddenly hits you like a ton of bricks: pregnancy.
It’s been a few weeks since that night when you came home from the Harvest Festival; when Leon had fucked you in this very spot and came in you. Your blood runs cold at the realization. Wrapping your arms around yourself, you go back into the bedroom and get dressed. You decide to go to the store, buy some pregnancy tests just to be sure. It could be something totally unrelated; how often do people get pregnant after having unprotected sex just once, right? You recall your parent’s had struggled to have you.
Once dressed, you head downstairs, smiling at Leon as you walk past him working, “Leon I’m going to head to the store real quick, I’ll be back.”
Leon stops what he’s working on, turning to you, “Oh? I’ll go with you,” he says as he puts down his tools.
You feel the color leave your face as you internally panic, “No Leon it’s fine! I don’t want to distract you from your work. I won’t be gone long, I promise.”
Leon’s eyes are locked on you as you figure he’s contemplating letting you go alone or not. You internally let out a sigh of relief when he picks his tools back up to continue working.
“Alright, but come right back, ok?” he says, focusing his attention back to what he was working on.
“I will,” you say, not wasting time walking into the kitchen to grab your purse and your jacket.
You go outside, the chill November air going straight to your bones despite having a jacket on. You climb into your car, turning the ignition. As soon as the car revs to life, you drive off.
You decide to go to the grocery store in Plymouth, not wanting to risk bumping into anyone you knew while buying pregnancy tests. Plus, it felt good to go for a ride alone; a chance to go through your thoughts and feelings.
Why hadn’t you made him pull out that night? Why had you been so completely lost in the moment? The words he growled into your ear that night were very much etched in your mind. Even so, would he even want a baby with you? Do you even want a baby?
You shake your head, doing your best to convince yourself you’re not pregnant and the sickness was just from all the stress; that the pregnancy tests were just a precaution, something to ease your mind. You pull your car into the grocery store, heading in and picking up some snacks so that you weren’t just buying the tests.
You go into the feminine hygiene aisle, locating the pregnancy tests. There were several brands, so you decide to pick a couple different ones, putting them into your cart and going to the check out to purchase everything. You feel like everyone’s eyes are on you as you go up to the cash register, even the cashier seems to give you a weird look as they ring up the pregnancy tests. You do your best not to make eye contact as you pay for your things and leave.
You drive back to Leon’s house, making sure the tests were buried beneath the snacks in the grocery bags as you walk inside.
“Leon I’m back!” you call out as you walk into the living room to go up the stairs.
You watch as Leon again stops what he’s doing, smiling over at you as you ascend the stairs, “welcome back, angel. Did you buy anything good?”
You swallow hard, stopping mid-way up the stairs and turn to him, “I got us some snacks, want some?”
“Sure!” Leon replies with a smile.
You pull out a bag of Doritos, tossing them gently to him, watching as he catches the bag with ease, “there you are, don’t eat the whole thing.”
Leon chuckles and gives you a playful wink before returning his focus to his work. You let out a sigh of relief, going back up the stairs to go into the bathroom. Upon entering, you quickly close the bathroom door and lock it, setting the grocery bag onto the bathroom counter, fishing the pregnancy tests out.
The actual tests proved to be more complicated than you ever imagined, requiring you to somehow get it so that you pee on them; easier said than done. After a few minutes of struggling, you manage to use all the tests you got, setting them face down onto the bathroom counter to process. You clean yourself up and sit on the toilet seat to anxiously wait.
After what seems like an eternity, you reluctantly stand up and walk over to the bathroom counter, you flip each test over, one by one. Each of them has the same result: Positive.
In that moment, every single swear word runs through your mind. Your eyes widen and your heart races. What if Leon gets mad? Are you even ready to raise a child? What will your mother think? What will the town think? Getting pregnant out of wedlock isn’t as uncommon as it used to be, but Oakvale is still a fairly religious community; you fear the worst.
You gather up the tests in your hand, opening the bathroom door to go back downstairs. When you reach the bottom, you simply stop and watch Leon work, your hand holding the tests trembling as you try to think of what to say to him.
As if sensing your presence, Leon once again stops, turning to you and seeing your pained expression, “angel, what’s wrong?”
“I…” you begin, a sob catching your voice as fear completely envelopes you, “I think I’m pregnant…”
You watch Leon’s mouth hang open for a second before a smile consumes it, “really?!”
Much to your surprise, Leon drops everything, walking over to you and wrapping his arms around you, his face burying itself in your hair and placing soft kisses onto the top of your head. He steps back, seeing the tests clutched in your hand. He takes them from you, looking at each, seeing how all of them say positive for pregnancy.
“You’re… not mad?” you ask, your voice still trembling.
“Why on Earth would I be mad?”
You shake your head, relief flooding over you now that you know Leon seems to be thrilled with the news.
“We can turn the spare bedroom into a nursery! Wait until we tell your Mom, she’s going to be so happy to have some good news for a change!”
“Th…Thanksgiving is in a few days, we should tell her then!” you say, your worry being replaced by enthusiasm.
You feel so much better now knowing that Leon’s not angry and clearly wants a family with you. The morning of Thanksgiving arrives and you and Leon are working on a green bean casserole to bring over to your mother’s house. Once that’s made up, you and Leon get it packed up in his Jeep and waste no time driving to your parents’ house.
Once there, your mother greets you enthusiastically, you can hear some of your extended family members already inside. You place the warm casserole by the other dishes before taking a seat at the dining table. Leon wastes no time getting to know your family, seated at the table is your uncle Dennis, who’s married to your Mom’s sister Donna, who’s helping your Mom with the turkey in the kitchen and your other aunt and uncle on your Dad’s side: Joel and his wife Marlene with their two young kids Adam and Mary-Ann, who are seated at a ‘kids table’ off to the side of the dining room.
Leon didn’t tell your family much about himself, giving them the same retired government agent story he had told you and your parents when you first met him. You remain quiet, becoming a bundle of nerves as the day wears on, scared of how your family is going to react to your pregnancy. Your Mom and your aunt coming in with the turkey snaps you out of your nervous thoughts and you take the opportunity to stand up and help them bring all the other food into the dining room.
You watch as Marlene helps her two children get their food, which isn't much because they are ridiculously picky. You on the other hand take a little bit of almost everything, especially the green bean casserole since that’s your favorite. Out of the corner of your eye, you see Leon doesn’t take that much either; mostly the dark meat of the turkey, potatoes and some stuffing.
Once everyone has their food, everyone at the ‘adults’ table engages in mindless small talk, meanwhile your focus is on eating and making sure you don’t throw up from your nerves. After a while, you hear Leon clear his throat to get everyone’s attention, putting a huge pit into your stomach.
“So… we have something really exciting to tell everyone,” Leon begins, placing his hand on the small of your back, rubbing it in small circles; he looks over to you, giving you a soft smile, “do you want to tell them the good news?”
You take a deep breath before giving him a slight nod; when you speak, your voice is just above a whisper, “I’m… um… we’re…”
At this point, everyone is staring at you. You feel yourself freeze up, your mind racing and your heart pounding.
“It’s alright, I’m right here,” you hear Leon encourage as he leans in to whisper in your ear.
“Sorry…” you say, swallowing hard, “we’re expecting…”
You watch your aunt Donna blink a few times before widening her eyes, “I’m sorry… you’re what?”
“I’m… I’m pregnant.” you finally say, cutting to the chase.
Your uncle Dennis practically spits out the beer he had been sipping on and your uncle Joel nearly chokes on the food he was eating. Your mother simply stares at you, seemingly dumbfounded. You immediately feel embarrassed.
“Was this… intentional?” your aunt Marlene asks, the concern evident in her voice.
“Well, no--”
“Yes. We love each other so much, so we’re very eager to start a family together, isn’t that right angel?” Leon says, cutting you off as he looks over to you, smiling and rubbing your back.
You look at him for a second, raising an eyebrow. The realization that his every intention that night after coming home from the festival was to get you pregnant sends chills through your entire body. You didn’t know how to feel about that at all.
Not wanting to cause a scene, you nod, addressing your family, “yes, it just felt right to start a family together. With all the sadness lately, we thought bringing a new life into the world would raise our family’s spirits.”
Your Mom then smiles, a single tear running down her cheek, “honey that’s wonderful news. When are you due?”
“We figured out it's around the end of July, give or take," Leon replies, a proud smirk spreading across his lips.
The mood in the room immediately shifts, your family now seemingly excited for you and Leon. Everyone is throwing out name suggestions, making bets on whether it’ll be a boy or a girl. All the while, you can’t seem to shake the uneasiness growing inside you. You unconsciously place a hand on your lower stomach. After a moment, you flinch your hand away, surprise overwhelming you.
You felt it move, that’s not possible, right?
The weeks that follow feel like a blur. When Christmas comes around, you and Leon are overwhelmed with gifts for the baby: clothes, toys and even furniture for the nursery. With each day, your pregnancy is beginning to show more and more, so much so that you had to go out and buy new clothes. Sleeping is also becoming a challenge, as you can’t seem to find a comfortable position with your swollen belly.
It’s New Year’s Eve and you are awoken to Leon touching, kissing and talking to your belly. It’s his daily ritual now. Your eyes slowly flutter open and you smile when you see Leon kissing and rubbing your belly. You would even say that Leon is more excited about this baby than you are, not that you’re not, of course. The baby always seems to react to him, becoming especially mobile in your belly when he talks to it, but you knew that had to be a coincidence. He notices you awake, propping himself on top of you and crawling up to you, kissing you deeply.
“How’s my favorite Momma doing?” he asks before kissing along your jawline.
“Very tired,” you admit, shifting yourself so that you’re sitting up in bed, “this big belly makes it hard to get comfortable.”
Leon sits down on the bed next to you, his concern written on his face as he caresses your belly with the back of his fingers, “I know. I can’t imagine how difficult it must be for you. Our little one is growing like a weed.”
“I wasn’t expecting my belly to get this big so soon, everyone in town thinks we’re having twins,” you reply with a laugh as you rub your belly.
Leon lets out a chuckle, “we’re definitely not. Just one very healthy baby.”
Leon’s hand moves from your belly, across your thigh and settling between your legs, his fingers caressing your clit through your underwear. A soft gasp escapes you, your legs unconsciously spreading open as you lean your head back against the headboard of the bed.
“That’s it, angel, make yourself comfortable. I’ll take care of you,” Leon coos as his fingers push your underwear aside, his middle and ring fingers slipping into your leaking hole with ease as his thumb continues to rub your throbbing clit.
His fingers caress your g-spot just right every time, causing you to arch your back and let out soft moans as you close your eyes, enjoying the moment. You feel his hand gently grasp one of your breasts, wincing a moment as they had become extremely sensitive since you had fallen pregnant. With each thrust of his fingers you are brought closer to your release, your fingers gripping onto the sheets in the bed as your legs begin to tremble.
Then, Leon pushes his fingers as deep inside you as he possibly can, causing you to cry out as you come all over his fingers. Leon rests his head on your shoulder as he gently massages your breast, pulling his fingers out but still rubbing gentle circles into your clit.
“Such a good Momma you are,” he praises, kissing the crook of your neck as he starts to pull down his sweatpants.
A loud banging on the front door interrupts him; he lets out an audible growl in annoyance. He waits a moment, hoping the person would go away, but the banging resumes, making the whole house shake.
“Better see who that is,” Leon says, his tone flat as he climbs out of the bed.
As Leon makes his way downstairs, you decide to get up and throw some clothes on yourself, grabbing a pair of maternity jeans and one of Leon’s t-shirts to put on.
“What the fuck?!” you hear Leon shout, followed by what sounds like a struggle.
“Leon!” you call out, rushing yourself down the stairs to the front door.
What greets you outside is like something out of a movie. Several armored trucks are in the driveway, men with guns and full tactical gear surround the house. One of the men has Leon pinned onto the ground, seemingly injecting some kind of liquid into his neck.
“What are you doing to him?!” you cry out, bursting out the front door to come to Leon’s aid, “stop it!”
As soon as you’re outside, two men grab each of your arms, holding you back. Looking around, you also see that there are large light panels on the armored trucks, emitting a strange, purple light, piercing the darkness of the early morning.
“Ma’am you need to come with us, it’s not safe here,” one of the men commands.
“What on Earth are you talking about?! Let me go!” you protest, desperately trying to pull yourself away from the men's grasp.
“We’re gonna have to tranq her,” you hear the other man say.
“Let me go! I’m fucking pregnan--!”
You feel something pierce your neck and in that next moment, the whole world is spinning, your eyes rolling into the back of your head as you lose consciousness.
You awake to the most massive headache you have ever experienced in your life, your eyes open and promptly closing when you find you’re laying in a bed in a completely white room with bright, blinding lights. You slowly sit up, rubbing your neck where you had gotten injected with the tranquilizer; it’s very sore and tender there. You look around at your surroundings. The walls are covered in a white padding, much like you’d find at a mental hospital with what you assume is a locked door on the other side. After a few minutes, a man with a white lab coat comes into the room, stating your name with a questioning inflection in his voice.
“Yeah…” you reply, your voice still groggy from having been drugged, “that’s me.”
“Come with me, the director would like to see you.”
The man helps you stand up, holding you gently by the arm as he leads you out of the room. Going down a hallway, he then turns and brings you into another room, this one has the same white walls, but this time there is a table with two chairs on either side. The man sits you down in the chair farthest from the door.
“The director will be with you shortly,” the man says before leaving the room, the door audibly locking upon his exit.
You wrap your arms around yourself, pinching your arm to make sure you’re not dreaming. Your thoughts are immediately on Leon, wondering where he is and hoping that he’s ok. You then focus your attention on your belly, rubbing it softly, hoping the tranquilizer didn’t hurt your baby. The sound of the door unlocking breaks you out of your thoughts and you look up to the door and watch a different man wearing a dark green jacket with salt and pepper dark hair walk in. He reminds you of the character Columbo, the bumbling detective from a murder mystery show that your mother enjoyed watching when you were growing up.
The man walks up to the opposite chair, pulling it out before taking a seat, “my name is Clive R. O’Brian and I imagine you have a lot of questions for me.”
Part 7
#leon kennedy#leon s kennedy#leon kennedy x reader#leon s kennedy x reader#leon kennedy smut#leon kennedy x reader smut#vampire!leon kennedy#plagas!leon kennedy#gigabyte writes#he comes alive
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Dexter :: Masterlist
Welcome to my Masterlist for all things I've created regarding the TV Show “Dexter”! I will try to keep this as updated as possible.
Click here for my Main Masterlist
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× Contents ×
Last Updated On
Requests
🌶️ ☔ 💥 🧸 🕳️ 🎭 🔞
Writing Masterlist
Gifs Masterlist
Tag List
━╍═══════════════╍━
﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏
1. Last Updated On
September 23, 2024
﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏
2. Requests
Requests are OPEN for the following characters:
Dexter Morgan
Brian Moser/Rudy Cooper
You can try to request something for characters that aren't on this list as well, however it's much less likely that I'll actually write for them.
On how or what to request, please check out My Main Post About Requesting!
3. 🌶️ ☔ 💥 🧸 🕳️ 🎭 🔞
I use one or more of the 7 emojis to give you a better understanding of what the content involves. Here's a guide on what they mean:
🌶️ ➞ Smut, usually contains sexual content and/or physical intimacy
☔ ➞ Angst, usually contains emotional pain of some kind and/or evokes sadness/melancholy
💥 ➞ Action/Violence, usually contains fast-paced events and/or physical conflict, often with graphic descriptions
🧸 ➞ Fluff, usually contains feel-good situations with a focus on comfort and/or affection
🕳️ ➞ Dark Stuff, usually contains heavy, disturbing, and potentially triggering topics (Mental illness, (sexual) abuse, trauma, etc.)
🎭 ➞ Drama, usually contains intense emotional shifts and/or emotional turmoil, with moments of tension, conflict, and/or resolution
🔞 ➞ Mature Content, usually contains explicit content that is not suitable for minors (Graphic sexual scenes, extreme violence, mature themes, and/or other adult-oriented material)
‼️ These emojis are only to give you a quick overview, please still read the warnings on each story to make sure they're suitable for you ‼️
4. Writing Masterlist
Brian Moser/Rudy Cooper:
✒ Haunted Reflections
☔💥🔞(🕳️🎭)
Summary: You head to your routine appointment for a readjustment of your prosthetic leg at the Miami prosthetics clinic. This time, however, you are met with Rudy Cooper instead of your usual doctor. Unbeknownst to you, his dark secrets lie hidden beneath the surface, and you’ve unwittingly captured his undivided attention and care.
Warnings: References to Violence and Murder, mentions of Stalking, Trauma (related to losing a limb & violent incidents), Obsessive Thoughts, Unhealthy Behavior, graphic descriptions in thoughts of Gore (Violence, Bloodshed, a bit of Body Mutilation), Moral Ambiguity (we're talking about Brian Moser here, hello?), Insults (like a single word lol), mentions of Drugs (two sentences, nothing about taking them), mentions of Death
Word Count: 3.271
×
✒ Shape Of You
🌶️ 🕳️🔞(☔)
Summary: Brian takes care of your injury after you've taken a nasty fall, however you can't help but feel like something's off about the situation. Unaware of his dark thoughts and oblivious to the deeper manipulation at play, you clear your mind by focussing on his comforting presence, and things quickly get heated.
Warnings: Mentions of an injury and that it's being taken care of (nothing too graphic), Depictions of Sexual Content (Minors DNI!), Rough/Intense Sexual Content, could be considered Dubcon by coercion (not really imo, but just to be on the safe side), Themes of Possession and Objectification
Word Count: 3.271
⊸
Dexter Morgan:
✒ Nothing yet
5. Gifs Masterlist
⏯ Nothing yet
6. Tag List
I don't have a tag list yet. If you want to be tagged in the future for anything specifically (all writings for a specific character for example), feel free to let me know and I'll create one and put you on it!🙏🏼💞
#Dexter#Dexter TV Show#Dexter TV Series#Dexter TV#Dexter Netflix#Dexter Masterlist#Viin's Dexter Masterlist#Dexter Fanfiction#Dexter Fanfic#Dexter Gifs#Dexter x Reader#Dexter Morgan x Reader#Brian Moser x Reader#Rudy Cooper x Reader
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Arbiter's Solstice; Part Three
Fandom: Resident Evil: Village
Pairing: Eventual Karl Heisenberg/AFAB!Reader
Rating: Holy shit M.
Summary: Karl was either going to spontaneously combust out of boredom, or spontaneously combust out of having to watch you working in the fields. Oh sure, he didn't have to watch you work. But he did. Sometimes. Most of the time.
A/N: Thank you all so much for reading and enjoying what I do! Hopefully I'll see you soon, but if not, stay safe. 💚 Enjoy!
Tag List: @stargazerofgoldenwords @cookiethewriter @crookedmoonsaultpunk @colesterstrudel @spoopyredacted @velvet-paradox @kotall-ohh @calwitch @katreneebug @missjasmine98 @sunflowers-and-swear-words @savage-rhi @nova-ivy541 @xyaswrlldd @the-videodame @luvley-shadow @akashiiiiii @spook0 @leediavhs @wysterias-not-so-secret-diary @alldevilsmaycry @writtennotsaid @mulcivert @cedarsmokesrandoms @smallestsnarkestgirl @buttons-beads-lace @vodkafolie @theplagueworm @holydreamerpastadragon @story-chaotic-brain @ohlookapan @topgirl17 @fyufox @immajojoreference @that-thangiling @n-o-r-4 @hauntedadagium @redjahxfox
[If you were tagged in error, please let me know and I’ll remove you!]
Part One: Chosen
Part Two: Struggles
[!TRIGGER WARNING!: This installment contains gore, mentions of death, canon-typical violence, depictions of mental and physical duress and unprotected sexual activities between two consenting adults. Stay safe!]
Karl stared aimlessly up at the smoke wafting overhead from the stubbed-out cigar in his ashtray, his fingers tapping the surface of his work bench. The bench was littered with scrap, bits and pieces he'd been attempting to make sense of all morning.
When Donna had sent a request for all able-bodied villagers to assist with the salvaging of the fields and the planting of the autumn harvest, he had assumed you would wish to be exempted from such a tedious task. Instead, you leaped at the opportunity eagerly. Had he kept you cooped up for too long and you just needed to stretch your legs? Or was there something more sinister at work? Had Donna gotten to you with her damn spores?
Heisenberg groaned, rubbing his hand across his face.
The phone above the workbench began ringing, a dull clicking noise that Karl barely registered at first. He drew a circle with his finger, mentally trying to fit several pieces on the table in front of him together. If that goes to here, maybe I can–
Wait, the phone?
The man bolted upright, seizing the receiver and nearly yanking the whole unit off the wall in the process. Through the buzzing hum of poorly-insulated lines came the sound of howling, snarling, and-
“Karl?”
“What the hell is happening, Donna?!” Heisenberg barked, already halfway into his coat. He could almost feel her mustering up the strength to say something through her obviously-crippling anxiety, but he stifled his pity for the woman. Something was clearly wrong. “Donna, what the fuck do you need?” He asked finally, trying to prod her to respond.
There was a choked gasp for air and then she exhaled, “the lycans won't listen.”
The lycans. Fuck. He hadn't spared a thought for them since well before he’d torn Alcina's throat out. They'd been on the same level as humans, annoying, useless.
Heisenberg slammed the phone down into the cradle, certain he'd broken the rotary dial with the motion. It didn't matter.
He grabbed his hat, shoving it onto his head as he headed for the first of many doors to reach the outside. He'd have to muster up some kind of weapon as he went, unwilling to trust the durability of his old hammer. Worst came to worst, he could make something out of the salvaged tractor. He would be fine, it was the birds that unnerved him when he went outside but he would be fine–
Why the hell was his heart beating so fast?!
…
You swung the heavy bucket, clobbering the creature in front of you grimly. The momentum carried you in a circle, almost toppling you, but you managed to catch yourself before you fell.
The lycans had fallen upon the fields without warning, much fewer in number than they had been before the Lady's demise but no less ferocious for their lack of numbers. The villagers, armed with nothing but spades and rakes for turning the earth, quickly rallied and fought back. You had been returning from the well with a fresh bucket of water for the workers to drink, so you didn't even have the benefit of a long-handled tool to defend yourself!
Lycans didn't terrify you like the Soldat had. If anything, you were used to seeing creatures like lycans or Dimitrescu's Moroaică. You weren't thrilled about seeing them, but they didn't necessarily unnerve you, especially since you weren't dealing with them alone. Outside, under the cheery sunlight of midday, they weren't quite so imposing.
You brought the bottom of the water bucket down on the head of another lycan, water flying everywhere as the beast snapped and yelped in response. One of the other villagers swung his rake into the beast's ribs, scoring several deep wounds in the lycan's side.
Where is Donna? you wondered frantically, glancing around for the unwilling leader of the village. The black-veiled woman seemed to have vanished into thin air, however. You and the rest of the laborers were evidently on your own. You set your jaw, working with the other villager to batter the downed lycan with your implements until it stopped moving.
The brutality of the action was shocking, yet you felt nearly nothing about it. Pragmatism, maybe a new gift from your service under Karl? The Lady had always weaponized fear and anticipation in equal measure, where Lord Heisenberg was quick to make a choice and carry it out. If something was threatening you, be it Soldat or despot, end it.
Simple.
You straightened up, wiping the sweat from your brow and squinting through the gritty dust. The fields would be ruined (well, more ruined) if this fight went on for much longer. Someone would need to be decisive to put a stop to the lycans marauding behavior.
That someone turned out to be one Lord Karl Heisenberg, the Iron Horse seeming to materialize out of the dust of the field like an apparition. The large man snapped his fingers, ancient shrapnel rising from the disturbed dirt to do his bidding. Without a word, without so much as a sound, he merely gestured with his hand and every lycan dropped.
You were certain you weren't the only one standing there stunned by the speed of the whole endeavor, but you may have been the only one to notice how hard Karl's chest was heaving. That, combined with the way his eyes darted across the fields until they met yours and his shoulders visibly relaxed–
Gods, his eyes. You were suddenly breathless for an entirely different reason, feeling your body flush with heat as his gaze burned straight through you. To think, you had jumped at the chance to perform some labor away from Heisenberg's factory, just to give yourself the opportunity to have a little space, only to be rendered useless once more the moment his glance landed on you. So much for your noble attempt!
What was less surprising than his reaction was, unfortunately, the way he stormed across the dusty ground, the large man clearly making a beeline for you. You braced for his approach, mentally trying to remind yourself that he still had yet to be cruel to you. Sure, he could be more than a little terrifying, but that came with his demeanor! That came with just being who he was, it wasn't as though he was making a deliberate effort to be so…scary.
The man kicked a dead lycan aside, the limp body leaving a fresh furrow in the ground from the force of Karl's blow. A jagged piece of metal jutted proudly upwards from the base of the creature's neck, black ichor staining the dark hair darker still.
You swallowed hard.
“You,” Karl hissed, but…but he wasn't even looking in your direction? You cautiously glanced around, quickly spying Donna standing next to the field with Angie. “Don't you know anythin’?! You need to turn the soil first, get all the big rocks and metal out of the way before you try to plant! Imagine if one of-” There was a sickening squelching noise as a deadly sharp bit of metal pulled itself free of another lycan's head, the object rising to hover beside Karl's shoulder. “-your villagers ended up losing a hand from something like this?!” The metal shard darted through the air at Donna's head and you flinched, exhaling hard when it dropped harmlessly to the ground at her feet. “You need to think like a goddamn leader!” Heisenberg roared. “You're not some helpless stupid child, Beneviento, so act like it!”
“This reaction seems a bit overblown, Heisenberg.” That may have been the longest sentence you'd ever heard out of Lady Beneviento. Karl halted, obviously surprised as well. Donna's hands were clasped in front of her around Angie, her already-pale knuckles further whitened by the force of her grip, but her voice was steady when next she spoke. “Everyone, please take a short rest. We will return to work in half an hour.”
“Not you,” Karl growled when you attempted to slink off with the rest of the villagers. “You're staying where I can see you.” He then raised his voice to address Lady Beneviento once the villagers departed, “Why the hell did you call me? It's your damn village to manage.” The man griped, shoving his hands into his pockets as you sheepishly moved to stand beside him.
Donna wavered, clutching at a nearby trellis for support. You stepped forward, instinctively looking around for something for her to sit down on, but Karl moved past you and took her arm.
“Have you had anything to eat today? Drink?” He enquired gruffly, clicking his tongue when she shook her head. “Infuriating. It's hot and you're out here wrapped in black fabric. Did your gift eat your brain?”
“I am not so blessed as you.” Donna retorted dryly, gripping his arm. “It is difficult.”
“I'll go draw more water! Uh, can you…?” You held out the metal pail to Heisenberg, who flicked a hand at it and removed the fresh dents. “Thank you!”
…
“Your pet is so dutiful.” Donna remarked after Karl had settled her onto the tailgate of a nearby wagon. “They must be a great help.”
The lord gritted his teeth. “Don't call them that.” He couldn't read her expression beneath the veil, but he could certainly guess. “I'm not fucking Miranda, I don't keep these things around as pets.”
“‘These things’,” Lady Beneviento chuckled, the noise as dry as parchment. “You still want to sound like her. Very well. Not a pet. What, then?”
He gave the frail woman an incredulous look. “None of your goddamn business, that's what. Since when do you care about my affairs? I feel like you've got much more important shit to consider.”
“Indulge me.”
“I'd sooner chop off my own dick,” was the man's uncouth retort. “You've got enough fires to put out, don't go sticking your nose where it doesn't belong.”
“So vulgar.” The veiled woman leaned back, Angie kicking her heels rhythmically against the tailgate as she did. “I was only curious.”
“Don't act like we're friends just because I agreed to rebuild your crap, woman. I'm not here to facilitate your entertainment. And neither are they, for that matter.”
“Understood.” Lady Beneviento sighed, actually sounding disappointed.
Karl bit his tongue, both literally and figuratively as he kept himself from chiding her anew on her childish behavior. “Where did the lycans come from? Which direction?” He eventually asked.
Donna indicated towards what was left of Moreau's reservoir. “It has been so dry recently. Have they run out of food?”
The large man offered no response, instead kneeling to examine one of the quickly-dissolving bodies. The creature's ribs were plainly visible, pressing against the thin, ashen skin in unhealthy juts.
“What will I have to offer you for your continued assistance as we plow and plant?” Donna called, interrupting his amateur investigation. Karl grumbled to himself, dusting his knees off when he rose.
“Scarecrows.” He watched her head tilt upwards beneath her thick veil, the woman obviously confused. “You heard me. Build scarecrows. You do that and I'll make sure the rest of the lycans don't get your precious villagers.” Heisenberg paused, a wolfish grin creasing his face. “At least, not while they work in the fields. Deal?”
“More than fair, especially from you!” Angie chirped before Donna could answer. “Maybe you're not so bad.”
“Keep your inane observations to yourself, you little creepshow.”
…
The heavy pail banged against your leg with every step. You weren't certain how much water the Lady Beneviento could drink, but if her appetite was anything like her deceased sister's, you may need another bucket!
Flagging down one of the other women on your way by the resting band of villagers, you requested that she bring some bread and fruit to Lady Beneviento. No doubt the sugar would help to raise her spirits somewhat. To your surprise, however, the woman quickly shook her head.
“I'm not going anywhere near that…man.” She said, her voice just loud enough for the rest of the laborers to hear. “That's Lord Heisenberg.”
You squinted at her, a little baffled. But then, you recalled you had been much the same before everything that had transpired. Her apprehension was incredibly understandable. “Oh, of course! Just bring it to me then, I can bring it to them.”
“Are you certain? What if he…does something to you?” The woman asked fearfully.
“Don't you recognize them?” another woman scoffed from her place at the fenceline, giving you a disdainful look. “They were his handmaiden, of course they're not scared of him. They're the reason we're in this mess, if they had just-!”
“The bread and some fruit, please.” To your credit, your voice didn't shake as badly as you feared. The first woman skittered off towards one of the houses and you set the bucket on the ground to wait for her return, intent on ignoring the daggers you could feel being glared at you. The snide remarks were a bit more difficult to tune out, though.
“No wonder the lord showed up so quickly-”
“What have they been doing in that factory? Can't be anything good.”
“We're only in such a bad state because they refused to follow the orders of their betters!”
“Imagine willingly working for something like that! And with Lady Dimitrescu hardly cold in the ground-”
A covered basket was pressed into your arms, the woman giving you a sorrowful look. “Take care, little one.” She murmured softly.
“Naturally!” You replied with an air of extreme cheer, determined not to let the rest of the gossips know how their words had affected you. Hefting the bucket once more, you listed slightly to the side before adjusting to the combined weight. “Thank you for your hospitality!”
Perfectly willing to accept my help when I'm smacking a lycan with a bucket, but bringing some provisions to their leader is a bridge too far, you groused uncharitably to yourself as you made your way back to the other edge of the field. Ridiculous. If Karl had wanted to do something bad, I doubt Lady Beneviento would be able to stop him.
You hoped the rest of the villagers would be able to observe the lord and lady interacting. Maybe they would be able to comprehend that Heisenberg wasn't…
Well, wasn't as much of a threat as they wanted to believe. You sighed heavily, then straightened back up and pasted on a smile. “Some refreshments, Lady Beneviento!” You announced upon your arrival, waiting respectfully until the woman shifted Angie aside so you could place the basket on the tailgate of the wagon. Karl took the bucket himself without a word, filling the ladle and then passing it to Donna so she could drink. In the meantime you unwrapped the basket, surprised to see a jar of pickled vegetables as well as your requested rolls and a small bowl of raspberries.
“What will you sample first, my lady?” The way you slid back into your more formal manners felt like putting on an itchy sweater. It fit, certainly, it was your place, but that didn't make it comfortable or desirable. You hadn't realized how much more casual you were with Lord Heisenberg until this moment.
“You're eating.” Heisenberg growled, interrupting the woman midway through shaking her head. “You'll do none of those idiots any good if you're dead. You need to be alive if you expect me to keep showing up to deter the lycans. Now eat.”
“Perhaps just a few pieces of carrot?” You bargained, using the provided fork to spear a sliced carrot from the jar of vegetables. “And this bread looks fresh! Hours old, if that. You and Miss Angie are bound to enjoy it, especially with these raspberries.”
“Ah…I suppose. Perhaps you are right.” Lady Beneviento murmured, gamely accepting the fork from you. “The carrots are very bright this year.”
“They are!” you agreed, stunned but delighted. Was this an actual conversation?
Karl refilled the ladle, his expression unreadable as he waited for Beneviento to finish chewing the carrot. “Drink. Small bites.” He instructed her, and you heard a snort from beneath the veil.
“Such a doting brother.”
“Do it, you ungrateful little shit.” Heisenberg snarled. “You want me to protect your sheep? Take care of yourself because after the planting is done, I'm not coming back to your flock.” His eyes wandered to you momentarily before he seemed to snap back to attention, continuing, “you've put enough people in danger today. You need to be able to handle it yourself the next time it comes to your doorstep.”
“There is no need to scold me like an unruly child, Lord Heisenberg.”
Karl tensed up and you quickly replaced the ladle in his hand with an herbed piece of bread, knowing all too well his weakness for the soft rolls. “Please eat, my lord.” You insisted, your cheeks tingling with the effort of maintaining your pleasant smile. “I can assist Lady Beneviento, I imagine you have more important things to tend to. To er, ensure the safety of the villagers?”
The man tore a bite out of the roll, sharp teeth easily ripping the bread apart. “Oh absolutely. You know me, I'm a real…humanitarian.” He doffed his hat lazily at the two of you, then turned on his heel and headed for the small rise of land bordering the fields.
“It is curious how familiar you are with dear Karl.” Lady Beneviento commented once she seemed to believe the man was out of earshot. You froze, panic gripping your throat. “You were his…handmaiden, correct?”
“Y-Yes, my lady.”
“How very strange.” After that, Lady Beneviento didn't say another word, the frail woman seeming, frankly, exhausted from the morning's excitement. The villagers returned to their toil soon after Karl took his position on the rise, the lord pacing back and forth aimlessly as the ground was broken and dirt was sifted. You returned to your labor as well, continuing to haul water or break apart the larger chunks of loam to be sifted, and you did your best to ignore the broadening gulf of distance between yourself, the rest of the village denizens and Lord Heisenberg.
Karl would occasionally pause in his pacing to lift whatever shrapnel was picked from the earth, the man clearly collecting it with the intent to form some new weapon. He had a relatively sizable stack by supper time, when all labor stopped in order for folk to prepare their evening meal. Wearily the group of you trudged off the field, and force of habit led your footsteps towards what was left of Castle Dimitrescu. You were only brought out of your reverie by Heisenberg's voice, nearly jumping out of your skin when he spoke up behind you, “going somewhere, sweetheart?”
“N-No, not at all!” You denied, once more out of habit, turning to face him. “I was just…I was lost in thought.” Karl nodded as though he accepted your explanation, his own brow furrowed. “What are you doing following me, anyway?!” You sputtered.
The man shrugged. “The lycans. You never know where they might come from next.” He then straightened up, lighting a cigar. He hadn't smoked the entire time he was on guard duty, you realized belatedly. Just paced, back and forth, back and forth-
“Thank you.” You blurted out before you could think it through, dissolving into a stammer when he gave you a look of confusion. Something about his eyes tied your tongue in knots, but eventually you managed to explain yourself. “Thank you f-for coming today. I know you don't really like Lady Beneviento, so I really appreciate you–”
“It's not that I don't like her,” Karl interjected, his expression darkening. “It's…it's more than that. Look, don't worry about it. We made a deal, and I'm going to honor my side of it. That's all there is to it.”
It's more than that.
A thought came to you as Karl fell into step alongside you, of Lord Heisenberg and Lady Beneviento…you flinched, shaking your head to ward off that mental image even as your brain pragmatically reminded you well they're not actually siblings, there's no harm in it. Perhaps they had simply found solace in one another due to their unique upbringing, it didn't have to be more complex than that. It would explain a bit of the animosity Karl seemed to harbor for her, especially after his binding–
You had to keep yourself from slapping your forehead in annoyance at your own stupidity, of course that's why Karl was on less than good terms with her! From the looks of things she had been in no position to challenge the Lady Dimitrescu when it came to Heisenberg's imprisonment. Alcina had been…well, a bit of a brute, really. You couldn't imagine Donna defying her in any sense, least of all regarding someone who, in theory, was the only one who threatened Lady Dimitrescu's total dominion over the region.
To think that your misplaced jealousy (and it was extremely misplaced, why on earth would you believe Lord Heisenberg even thought of you like that?!) had led to you immediately assuming to know the hearts and minds of two individuals who were absolutely your betters in every sense of the word. You were ashamed of yourself, feeling small and foolish in your insecurity.
You were a handmaiden, nothing more, and that was how things had to be.
…
Karl was either going to spontaneously combust out of boredom, or spontaneously combust out of having to watch you working in the fields.
Oh sure, he didn't have to watch you work. But he did. Sometimes.
Most of the time.
He'd rest his arm on the handle of his new hammer, rest his chin on that and just let his eyes drift where they wanted. At least you seemed oblivious to his stare, too intent on your chores to bother to remain aware of your surroundings. Good thing Karl was there to ward off anything dangerous that may have approached.
And he had absolutely had his hands full for the first few days. The lycans had tried every which way to get past him in order to attack the vulnerable villagers, but it always ended the same: dissolving bodies pushed off to the side, a few grudging thank-yous, maybe an extra bit of bread and cheese thrown his way during the communal lunch. You'd think he would get a bit more recognition; not a single villager had died yet on his watch.
A distant yell roused him from his staring match with the area you had occupied, the man finding to his silent dismay that you had vanished while he wasn't paying attention.
The shout had come from the direction of the well. Heisenberg straightened up and the other laborers in the field seemed to take notice, their work pausing while they watched him shift his posture. Heisenberg ignored them, one hand reaching out towards the well. He closed his eyes to aid his concentration, the range of his power dependant on his focus–
Lycans. Multiple, his attention leaping from one to the next. A filling here, a screw in the knee there, bodies lighting up with hotspots of metal that he could turn to his advantage even at this distance.
Wait. He had needed to fix you after Alcina, a screw in the knee, what if he'd left something behind–
Another scream, this time from the other end of the field. The lycans had split what few numbers they had left, attempting to pick off outliers before Karl could reach them. The man growled, irritated, then stripped two pieces of metal off his hammer and sent them spiraling across the field. He barely waited to see if they had hit their mark before he bolted towards the well.
Karl reached out again, mentally straining to find something-
There! Bullet, lodged in a ribcage. He doubted you'd ever been shot in your life, so he took the gamble and latched onto the piece of metal, slamming it upwards until it tore free of whatever body it had resided in.
Heisenberg finally crested the hill before the square, taking in the sight beneath him momentarily before he sprinted forward.
It wasn't you. It wasn't you. Where the hell were you?! It was some man from the village, some useless man who was doing his best to defend himself by dashing back and forth around the well.
Heisenberg gritted his teeth and brought the hammer down on the head of one of the frail lycans, spotting another one already dead. That must have been the bullet bearer. The last lycan whirled, snarling and howling at his intrusion. Karl bared his teeth at the creature, seeing Moreau pandering and groveling to Miranda every time he looked at the piscean lord's creations. “What's the matter? Were you expecting someone else?” Heisenberg sneered, watching the beast quail in real time as it seemed to recognize him. “Donna isn't here, little mutt. But you're going to wish she was.”
…
You turned out the loaf from its pan, exhaling in relief when it held strong and didn't collapse. The crust was a little darker than you'd like, but it would be edible enough! People were always hungry at the noon meal, so you had taken it upon yourself to bake extra loaves of the herbed bread. You had the time for it, after all, since Heisenberg took care of most of the chores in his factory! All you had really needed to do was prepare the dough in advance and transport it in the morning, then briefly break away to put it in a borrowed oven so it would be fresh for the communal meal. A simple enough task.
You wiped your hands off on your apron, wrapping the loaves in a clean towel and then tucking them into a basket so you could tote them to the mishmash of tables that had been set up outdoors in the shade of the gnarled orchard. The weather had continued to hold, a blessing and a curse for the backbreaking work that needed to be accomplished, but after such a long time cooped up in Castle Dimitrescu, the sunlight was wonderful and you cherished every moment you could get.
A commotion outside caught your attention and you headed for the door, your basket safely slung over your arm. Perhaps everyone had decided to take the break a little early? It was warmer than usual today, it would certainly make sense-
Karl was in the middle of the field, surrounded by the rest of the villagers. “-want them found now, nothing gets done until they're located!” He was shouting, gesturing down at two more lycan corpses. Your heart leaped into your throat, you hadn't even known there was an attack! Had someone gone missing in the confusion?
“Sir?” One of the men spoke up, visibly shrinking when Karl glared his way and then raising a hand to hesitantly point in your direction. Heisenberg glanced up, paused, and then began shoving his way through the crowd.
You had a ludicrous thought for a moment of fleeing, but you dismissed it immediately. Lord Heisenberg would be on you in an instant. It would be better to just take your punishment on the chin, so to speak.
That might have been easier to accept if Karl didn't look so exceedingly angry. He had even gone a bit red in the face, the color unfamiliar compared to his usual pallor. He towered over you, the large hammer landing haft up in the dirt as he mutely reached for your shoulders. You couldn't help the shudder that ran through your body when he grabbed you, bracing yourself for some terrible beating.
A moment passed. Then two. Your eyes welled up and you blinked rapidly at the ground.
“Look at me.” His voice was deceptively even. You wavered uncertainly, then managed to shake your head. “Why not?”
“I am afraid.” You admitted. “I know I should be able to look at you, but you seem furious. I…I am afraid.”
“You're afraid?” Heisenberg barked that strange, coarse laugh and then embraced you. “I was terrified.” He confessed, low enough that only you would hear. “I…I couldn't find you. I thought-”
Your heart was hammering so loudly in your ears you could barely make out his words. Terrified. He had been afraid…for you? “I don't understand.” You whispered.
“I know.” Heisenberg muttered. Then, “neither do I.”
…
The fields were finally all in order three days later. Donna was hoping (perhaps futilely) to have a bumper crop of corn to carry the village through the winter. The mended tractor had sped up the process considerably, but it was still an immense undertaking to cut back the dead crops and overturn them in the fields that Beneviento did want to use. Obviously she didn't exactly have the manpower that the village had enjoyed during Lady Dimitrescu's tyrannical reign, so she had to make several hard decisions to ensure the survival of the people she did have.
Heisenberg didn't envy her. Of course, that was nothing new, but now he really didn't envy her. It was no small feat managing a village. Hell, he'd had his hands full with his Soldats, and they couldn't even talk back! He knew himself too well, knew he didn't have the patience or the restraint for it.
His eyes wandered to you at your comically oversized stove and he had to snort at himself. Maybe he did have patience and restraint, but only in very…specific scenarios. Speaking of which. “Is it done yet?” He called for the fifth time, your little laugh warming him down to his core.
“Almost!” You answered, turning to give him a quick smile. “I'm sorry, I know you're hungry.”
“You have no idea.” Karl muttered half to himself, watching the sway of your hips as you resumed your task. Starving.
“Are you helping to restore the barn tomorrow? Those that can't are stuffing the scarecrows, so I'll probably be doing that. I'm not much one for lumber.”
Truthfully Karl had forgotten about that next chore. Now technically Donna hadn't asked for his help regarding that anyway, so technically he didn't have to. But the thought of you sitting alone amongst the rest of the villagers was…irritating.
He had heard what they said, he always heard what they said and they were hardly kinder now that his imprisonment had ended. If anything, much of their vitriol seemed to have found a new target in you. Where they wouldn't say anything to his face, they were more than willing to say terrible things to you. He had watched you grin and bear it, but it didn't exactly brighten his day to know that you were enduring bullshit because of him. Add to that the fact that you hadn't ever brought it up to him so that the two of you could do something about it…
It was noble, in an exasperating and unfamiliar way, that you wanted to take on his woes or even shield him from them. As if you cared about him.
You were just some silly human.
Several fresh flatbread on a cutting board landed in front of him, and you carefully placed down a trivet on the table before managing to haul over a heavy skillet full of several eggs cooked in a molten hot tomato sauce. “Please be careful, it's extremely hot,” you warned, but Karl was already midway through digging a large spoon (more of a shovel, really) into the delicious-smelling mixture.
“Do you have time to eat?” He asked gruffly as you moved to return to the stove. “With me, I mean.”
You paused, giving him a surprised look before answering, “of course, if that is your wish.” Karl made a small motion with the spoon and you practically glowed, your smile was so brilliant. You rushed to pick up a small bowl and then you attempted to serve Karl, which the lord immediately brushed off. He instead placed a substantial amount of the tomato mixture into your bowl, topping it with one of the eggs like a garnish.
How much did you even eat? He wasn't usually in the habit of watching you consume your meals, too busy with his work to bother. The man tore one of the flatbreads in half to share, unable to fight his smile when you shyly accepted your piece. “Enjoy.”
…
You were hopelessly in love, despite your best intentions. Absolutely smitten, entirely entranced, mired in juvenile infatuation. You stuffed more leaves into the patchworked shirt that would eventually become the body of a scarecrow and you did your best not to let your eyes wander to where Lord Heisenberg was working on the barn. It was a futile effort, of course, but you really did try!
It wasn't exactly fair that he had abandoned his shirt hours ago, the other villagers laboring alongside him in a similar state of undress. He was just so incredibly strong, and so casual about his strength. Carrying beams of lumber with ease to shore up the collapsing roof, using his strange power to tighten otherwise unreachable bolts or to wrestle with problematic nails…you knew you ought to have been paying more attention to your own task, but you also knew you weren't the only one looking at Lord Heisenberg.
Indeed, several individuals around you who were also busying themselves cramming dried cornstalks into old pillowcases would occasionally pause, hands going still while they watched Karl do something particularly impressive. Something in your chest tightened when you noticed the amount of attention fixed on Lord Heisenberg, but Karl tilted his head at that moment and caught your gaze. The man smirked, throwing you a wink, and you frantically ducked your head to avoid further humiliation amidst the tittering laughter of your peers.
Honestly, you had shared breakfast with Lord Heisenberg, not any of these other individuals. You had been Chosen for him at first, but after everything was said and done, he had chosen you. Perhaps…perhaps it wasn't so bad to have a little pride in such things.
You dared to sneak another look and when Karl met your eyes again, you gave him a soft, fond smile before returning to your task. There was still work to be done, regardless of your own internal discourse, and certain things couldn't wait.
…
Heisenberg sought you out at the noon meal, the man having taken note of the furtive glances you'd been shooting his way all damn morning. He had to admit, it was…flattering, but also oddly sweet.
He posted up alongside you on the bench, a trencher of excessively-cooked fish balanced on his leg. You passed him a slice of bread with some pork drippings while apologizing for the lack of salt, but the man waved you off, gesturing down at the fish. “Help y'self,” he mumbled through his first bite, “watch f’ the li'l bones.”
“I suppose-” you began, tugging at the still-attached tail and then making a quiet noise of surprise when the spine snapped, dropping the rest of the backbone onto the plate. “Oh dear. Well, that makes it easier.” You delicately placed the tail off to the side. “The Lady only ever had us prepare red meat or poultry.” You said, half to yourself while you frowned doubtfully down at the remains of the fish. “I'm not quite…sure how to do this.”
Before he could think better of it, Karl picked up a piece of the fish and easily stripped several sections off the ribs, offering them to you wordlessly. You accepted with a grateful smile, placing your portion onto your own slice of bread and then taking a large bite. The man continued to prepare his own smaller portion, pretending not to notice the way you gulped water with every bite.
“It's a bit, er, dry.” You mumbled when Karl finally asked how you liked the fish. “I'm afraid I don't understand the appeal. Maybe some seasonings would improve the flavor?”
Karl cleared his throat, stifling a laugh. The fish was as dry as a bone; he was more impressed that it had stuck together this long instead of just evaporating outright. “You're drinking more water than the fish did.” He remarked, making you sputter. “Don't worry, it's edible. Whatever you don't want, I'll finish.”
“I'm sorry, I don't mean to be ungrateful.” You apologized guiltily, ducking your head.
“We'll eat good tonight.” Karl crunched a needle-like bone, feeling it pierce the side of his cheek. “Let the rabble burn their fish and gawk at their betters.”
“Oh, you noticed.” Your voice had gone thin.
“‘Course I noticed. I'm not goddamn blind.” Heisenberg growled, “they're terrified of me but they'll stare like slack-jawed idiots as soon as I show some skin.” He turned to the side, leaning in just a little and lowering his voice. “You're the only one I want gawkin’ at me, sweetheart.”
You stared up at him, gawking in every sense of the word. Karl could feel his smirk making a triumphant return and he dared to slip a finger beneath your chin, feeling the way your pulse beat wildly at his touch.
“Don't get all shy on me now, sweetheart,” he teased, tapping his thumb against your lips and then pulling away once more. “We can discuss further, when we have some…privacy.”
You blinked hazily before jolting, your back going poker straight as you focused your attention pointedly on the remains of the fish.
…
“It's not hard to notice the way you treat me.”
Karl turned from his workbench to look at you, the lord obviously surprised by your words. Your whole body was trembling but you did your best to maintain some level of eye contact. You already knew he could sense your fear, but hopefully he wouldn't misinterpret your apprehension.
What you truly feared was rejection, or even disposal after brief fascination. The Lady had been so changeable in her moods and while Karl hadn't displayed quite that same level of vacillation, he did have a temper which seemed to burn hot. You weren't sure if you would be able to endure being disposed of, being ignored for the rest of your days once the shine wore off.
“You treat me differently than the rest of the villagers.” You did your best to gentle your tone. This wasn't an accusation, after all, but an observation.
Karl stood. “You make it sound like I shouldn't!” He half-laughed, but there was no humor in his tone. “Why wouldn't I treat you differently? You're the only one worth a damn in this entire village. You're the only one who treated me like a person, it's only natural that I'd treat you right.”
“You're a lord, though.” You pointed out. “You shouldn't display favoritism.”
“Have I ever given you the impression that I care about what I should or shouldn't do?” Heisenberg asked incredulously. “I killed Alcina. You of all people can understand that's something that I technically shouldn't have done and yet here we are, sans one noble House Dimitrescu.”
You shook your head, wishing you could just get him to understand. “It's not like that, it's just that…I mean, the rest of the villagers, they…” You trailed off, frustrated. What would you even say? ‘They're being rude to me’? Oh surely, what a change in behavior. “They just treat me differently.”
“Do you want me to stop?”
“No!” You were both startled by the speed and volume of your denial, Karl snorting in apparent disbelief at the outburst. You glared at the floor, making a futile attempt at hiding from the man.
“Then what's the problem?” He asked brusquely, one ankle tucked behind the other as he leaned against his workbench. “I'm offering even more than what I've already done, and I don't want anything more in return. I'm offering what you know you want, sweetheart.”
“You know what I want, now?” You shot back, a little irritated at how easy everything seemed to be for him.
“Of course.” Karl replied with a cocky little tilt of his head. “You want me over you, or maybe under you. Behind you? Choices, choices.”
Your dream from the other night raged to the forefront of your mind once more and you buried your face in your hands with a frustrated little scream. “I didn't want to be like this.” You mumbled through your fingers, oblivious to how stiff Karl's posture went at your confession. “It's not my place to be like this, surely someone else-”
“No one.” The lord said curtly. “Not a soul. They can look at me all they want, but it'll be you I'm coming back to every night.” His expression softened ever so slightly. “If you'll have me, sweetheart.”
Sweetheart.
“If…if I agree to this,” you swallowed hard, trying to keep your voice steady. “If I agree to this, you have to promise me that you won't…I mean, that if you get bored of me or you grow tired of my company, you'll state it plainly. Don't lie to me to spare my feelings, just tell me outright. I couldn't bear continuing to…engage with you if you no longer found my company pleasant.”
“It won't come to that.” Karl stated firmly. “Promise me you'll do the same, though. If you decide you'd rather move on, let me know so I can send you off.”
“I doubt it will happen!” You rushed to assure him, “but I will acquiesce, of course. Neither of us are obliged to stay if we are unhappy!”
“Good.” Heisenberg fidgeted for a moment. “Can we…” He made an odd gesture at your pallet, “discuss further?”
“What else is there to discuss?” You queried, genuinely confused. Karl rolled his eyes with a groan, scooping you up into his arms and carrying you to your pallet. “Lord Heisenberg, I-”
“Karl.” He breathed in your ear, his voice sending an entirely different shiver down your spine. “Call me Karl when we're alone.”
“O-Of course.” Lord Heisenberg looked down at you expectantly and you bit your lip, hesitant even now. “Karl.”
“Sweetheart,” he practically purred the endearment, the gentle tone of his voice and the adoration in his eyes leaving you breathless.
“I will meet you however I can.” You offered, propping yourself up on your elbows beneath him. “I am, however, not overly experienced in these matters.”
“Do you want me inside you at some point tonight?” Karl asked bluntly, smirking when you sputtered. “Don't worry about your experience. Whatever you've had, I'll make you forget about it.”
“Oh.” You wheezed, more than a little frazzled. “Surely it would be better for you if I knew what I was doing?”
Karl ran his tongue over his teeth in that odd, nervous gesture. “Not really. I don't want you to be self-conscious.” He murmured, pressing his lips to the side of your neck. The man began unbuttoning your shirt, shoving the fabric off to the side so he could kiss your collarbone.
The feeling of his facial hair on your bare skin had you trembling beneath him, your hands feebly gripping his shoulders in an effort to ground yourself. Oh certainly, there had been juvenile fumblings under the stairs in the kitchen, but you had never engaged in anything so…all-encompassing. Karl seemed ready to undo you entirely, the man taking his time with every button and hook that he encountered.
He finally untied your breast band, slipping the cloth out from beneath you with a soft rustle. “I'm going to put my mouth here,” Karl warned you, his expression serious.
Unsure of where here was, you still nodded your head, crying out when Karl roughly laved his tongue over your right nipple. The man coaxed the bud into his mouth, humming while you bucked and squirmed under his ministrations. No one had ever-!
His free hand sought out your other breast, fingers teasing and fondling you to stiffness as you whimpered and bit down on your knuckles in an effort to keep quiet. The man growled something against your skin and then his knee dug beneath your thigh, hooking your leg up over his own and pressing his pelvis to yours through the layers of clothing. His skin was so hot, and the way his intense eyes watched your every move as you reacted helplessly to him…it was all too much and not enough at the same time.
“Karl,” you half-sobbed, fingers fumbling at the open throat of his shirt. “Please, please Karl-”
“You don't even know what you want,” the man gently teased you, undoing the laces on your skirt and splaying the homespun weave open on either side of your hips, leaving you wholly exposed aside from your underthings. Karl shoved your legs up over his thighs, leaning his body forward to return to your breasts. As he did however, he rutted against your pelvis firmly, making you whine without intending to. You flushed hot, avoiding his eyes as he cautiously shifted his weight. “Mm, what's wrong sweetheart? You're so quiet all of a sudden,” the lord breathed, grinding his body down in an abrupt motion that startled another whine out of you. “Is this what you want, hmm?”
He didn't wait for whatever reply might have been forthcoming, the man busying himself at your breasts again. You arched your back, feeling his canines scrape your sensitive skin in a delicious tingle of sensation. “Karl-”
“I know, sweetheart.” He whispered, slipping a hand into the band of your underwear and tugging them off, then unbuttoning the placket of his pants. “Look, look at me.”
You managed to raise your head to stare down the length of your body at whatever he was trying to show you, your half-lidded eyes widening and the flush rising on your cheeks once more. Karl huffed out a breath, stroking his cock and pressing the heated skin against your wet cunt. You were so slippery that he ended up sliding over your entrance, the head of his cock nudging your clit with a harsh little bump that had you whimpering.
“Too much?” Karl asked through gritted teeth, forcing out a laugh when you vigorously shook your head. “Good, right? Feels good?”
You could barely get a word out, your voice dissolving into a moan when he reached up to toy with one of your nipples again. “Yes, yes, please…”
“Alright, I'll keep goin’.” Karl assured, using his hand to spread the lips of your cunt a little wider so he could slot himself against you more firmly. His low rumble when he rutted his cock between his hand and your cunt fanned the ache deep in your stomach, making your hips jolt up of their own accord. “Oh, easy, easy,” the man gasped, obviously startled. “I know you want more, sweetheart, but I don't want to hurt you.” He held up his hand and you realized dimly that it was trembling. “Inside, yeah?”
You nodded wildly, propping yourself up on your elbows again in an effort to watch what he was about to do. Karl shot you a wink, making you let out a nervous giggle. The sound quickly turned into a gasp as he tapped his thumb to your clit and pressed his middle finger against your entrance, the rough pads of his digits rasping along your skin briefly. Then he breached your cunt, his finger experimentally stroking at your insides while his thumb rolled over your clit.
“Say my name, sweetheart.” Karl instructed you softly.
“Karl, I-” your voice cracked and broke when the man pressed his index finger into you, spreading you wider and making lewd, wet noises with your cunt.
“I know,” he crooned, “I know sweetheart, you're already so wet for me but we need to make sure. Show me what you like.”
You squeezed your eyes shut, embarrassed. “I don't–I don't know.” You admitted softly, arching your back when he flicked over one of your nipples again.
“Mmm, I think you do.” Karl growled, tormenting your nipple with firm strokes that he echoed on your clit, making you squirm and cry out. “How do you make yourself feel good?”
“I haven't!” you denied desperately. “I wasn't allowed, I-I–”
“No?” Karl interrupted you, raising an eyebrow. “You never found something that made you feel nice? Never took advantage of…oh, I dunno’, a certain angle, maybe a pillow?”
“Wasn't allowed.” You reiterated, practically babbling while his fingers curled and thrust into you. “Wasn't allowed wasn't allowed-”
“But did you?”
“No!” You sobbed, caught off-guard when he twisted his wrist and did–something with his fingers that made an explosion happen behind your eyes. Your whole body went tense and then a warm sensation flooded your groin, pulling a bone-deep groan out of you as you sank into the pallet once more.
“Coming so soon? Guess you were serious.” Karl sounded surprised, but also like he was talking to you from down a hallway. You whimpered instead of replying, making him laugh.
His cock slid along your pussy again, sending a lance of heat into your belly. Your cunt was still riddled with aftershocks from whatever Karl had done to you, the man panting softly as he rolled his cock over your twitching entrance. Back and forth, back and forth, every motion inspiring that same heat to build in your stomach and causing you to moan in response.
“Spread your legs, sweetheart.” He requested, clapping a hand to your shaking calf. “Let's get these nice and wide for me, loosen everything up so you're comfortable.” Broad palms kneaded at the insides of your thighs, the man helping to warm up the spasming muscles with careful strokes. His fingers were still wet from being inside you, leaving cool trails along your inner thigh when he moved his hand. “I…I can't promise this is going to be good at first.” Karl warned, his expression slightly pained. “We can stop now.”
“No, I want it. I–” you hesitated, still not certain of what exactly you were hoping for. “I want everything.” You finished instead, hoping you sounded firmer than you felt. “I can endure it.”
Karl chewed on his lower lip. “If it's too much, you'd better tell me.” His voice dropped into a lower, more grave register. “Understand, sweetheart?”
You swallowed hard, nodding. “Yes, Karl.”
“Good.”
…
It still took Heisenberg a few minutes to work up the courage to start. He justified the delay by continuing to work you over with his fingers, mentally warring with himself while you sighed and panted under him.
He could stop. He wasn't an animal. He could be careful, and you had given your word that you would tell him if it was too much.
It would be enough. It had to be. Damn it all, if he couldn't trust himself to manage this now, he never would. Karl grimaced, tucking his fingers beneath your chin to hold your gaze. “I'm going to start.” He said quietly, “it may be uncomfortable.”
“I understand.” So brave, always so brave, staring up at him with a hazy sort of determination that sent a hot rush down his spine.
The lord barely refrained from nervously laughing, choosing instead to spread you wide and rest the head of his cock against your entrance. He didn't move for a moment, giving you the opportunity to say no, but in a surprising twist you wrapped your fingers around your own thighs, clumsily helping him to hold you open.
Karl slowly, slowly pressed his dick into you, the man finding himself having to adjust multiple times in order to keep the motion relatively smooth. Gods, you were so soft and warm, it was incredible. If it wasn't for the guilt he felt welling up inside him, it would be perfect. But despite your natural lubrication and warmup this was still obviously a massive undertaking, your voice cracking when you exhaled a moan of what seemed to be discomfort as he bottomed out. “Oh, Karl, oh God–” you whimpered, fingernails digging into your own thighs. “Can I–can you hold still? I need-I need a minute t-to…”
“Of course.” Karl muttered before you could finish, settling you carefully into the cradle of his hips. “Let me know when you're ready.” He rested his thumb on your clit, the digit sweeping softly back and forth while you breathed deep and adjusted to his size. “Take as long as you need, sweetheart.” He continued, hanging his head when you inadvertently clenched down on his cock. “As long as you need, I can wait.” Truthfully, being inside you at all was undoing him, but he wasn't particularly concerned about his own stamina. He doubted you'd care either.
Speaking of which, you tilted your hips upwards slightly and Karl watched your eyes fly open, the man biting back a smirk as you all but fucked yourself onto his cock for a breath. Heisenberg pressed a hand to your chest, easing you flat once more.
“I can take it from here, sweetheart.” He murmured, “do you mind if I finish inside you? Promise it won't do anythin’ but make a mess.” The cadou, the gift from Miranda, had given many things to him, but it had also taken much away. Humanity, normalcy, the promise of a simple life with someone else…
In response your heels dug into the small of his back, sheathing him impossibly deeper into you. “Please,” you begged, your eyes teary and cheeks wet. “Need you, need all of you.”
Heisenberg snarled, fucking down into you. He tugged your legs up off his hips, bending them at the knees and forcing you wide open, vulnerable for what he knew would be an insatiable event. “Take it then, sweetheart, take what's yours.” He crooned, certain deep down that he was being at least a little mean. After all, you were giving him this precious gift, the least he could do was behave himself. Easier said than done with your nails scraping tiny crescents between his shoulder blades though, easier said than done when your mouth was right next to his ear and you were sobbing his name while he fucked the sense out of you. Maybe you didn't mind him being a little less gentle?
Karl pulled out and rutted against you for another moment, enjoying the way your clit pulsed when he tapped it with his cock and the way your body went tense with the pressure. Evidently you were wound even tighter than he was, despite your lack of experience. You cried out when he reached up and teased one of your nipples, your back bowing in response.
“You close again? Want to come on my cock?” Karl asked, laughing outright when you nodded desperately. “Anything for you sweetheart. Hurt a little less?”
“It's not–it doesn't hurt, you just…” your fingers tangled in the sheets as you fidgeted, obviously trying to explain what it was that you felt. “You're so deep. It's not a…not a hurt, it's more of an ache.”
“Too deep?” The man queried, already considering what he needed to adjust posture-wise to keep you comfortable.
“No, I–” Karl felt the heated flush that spread across your skin, the man patiently waiting until you admitted, “I enjoy it, Karl. It's…I like it.”
“You like me deep inside you?” Heisenberg rolled his hips, sheathing his dick once more and thrusting hard enough to knock the breath out of you for a moment. “As deep as I can get?”
“Please-” you begged, “you fill me up so well–”
“Well I'm sure as hell going to,” Karl grunted. “I want to keep doing this forever, if you're amenable.”
“I'd like that.” You smiled tearily up at him and Karl's breath hitched, hips stuttering as he lost his battle against the urge to spill into you.
“Sweetheart-” he gasped in your ear, the thunder of his own pulse nearly drowning out your whimpering. “Fuck, sweetheart, you're everything, you're all I want, you…I love you.”
The man froze, realizing what he'd just blurted out (and the way your body had reacted to it). You tilted your head back, panting and moaning while your soaked little cunt throbbed around him and fucking hell–
Maybe it was alright. Maybe you hadn't heard him.
“‘Love you too-” you managed to say, your voice weak and tremulous.
Something inside Karl snapped (snapped more?) and the man buried his face in your neck, growling swears and entreaties in equal measure as he fucked you through your climax. Your answer was to wrap your arms around his neck and beg for more, threading your fingers through his hair and tugging until his scalp ached hotly. Karl wanted to scream, he wanted to fight something, but more than even those most primal urges, he just wanted to fuck you until you forgot your own name.
A combination of your come and his own began to sluggishly drip from your cunt onto the sheets, clearly not helped by Karl’s relentless rhythm. The man absently slid a hand beneath the small of your back to adjust you and his fingers passed over the raised area of the multiple cursive Ds branded into your flesh. Again speaking before he thought, driven entirely by base instinct and possessive rage, the lord bared his teeth and seethed, “You are mine. Nobody else gets to touch you ever again.” Not Alcina, not fucking Moreau, never again.
“I'm y-yours, I'm yours Karl…” was your stilted, hiccuping reply, not that he'd even needed (or deserved) an answer. Heisenberg felt his expression soften, felt the fight-ready tension in his shoulders unwind, and the man placed apologetic kisses along your breasts and collarbone. You were so impossibly good to him, it was evident he would be repaying you for the rest of your time together.
“I dreamed about doing this.” The confession was soft, rasping in his dry throat. “Stuck in my cell, I-I'd think about it. You were so damn nice to me, I just…” Karl hesitated, well aware of your half-lidded stare boring a hole through him. “I wasn't used to humans being kind. Hell, anyone being kind. Guess I'm a little fucked up.” ‘A little’, fuck's sake.
“I would have let you.”
Fuck's sake.
Karl closed his eyes, resting his forehead on your collarbone and exhaling raggedly. “I wouldn't have been good to you.” He admitted. “I was still too angry, too mean. I don't…it wouldn't have gone well. Trust me, it's better this way.”
You pressed your face into his neck, inhaling deeply and pressing kisses to the sweaty skin there. “I'm sorry.”
“Not your fault, sweetheart. I was fucked up before you were born.” The man shook his head, rolling his shoulders absently. “Fucked up, stuck in the cycle of being bitter and hateful, helpless to do anything but wallow and further other people's ambitions…it really got to me.” He nudged his nose into your cheek teasingly. “And then you came along.”
“The Lady chose me for you, she said it was a great honor.” You rolled your eyes, huffing out a breath. “She didn't mention the part where I would be sacrificed at the solstice, of course.”
“Well yeah, you wouldn't have agreed to it otherwise,” Karl allowed, his smirk fading slightly. “But then you chose me. A hard road to walk, sweetheart, and I don't take it for granted. I…thank you. For–well, for everything.”
You sniffled, burying your face in his neck once more.
Karl hummed in contentment, continuing to fuck you at a leisurely pace. “What do you say–” he panted when you clenched down on him again, “we do something special for the winter solstice?”
You squinted up at him, your brow furrowed in confusion. Karl just pressed a kiss to your forehead and smiled his usual, self-satisfied grin.
…
“I'm not certain that I-” you paused, excusing yourself as you yawned broadly. Karl continued wrapping a patched scarf around your neck, patiently waiting for the rest of your question. “-understand what the whole point of this is, Karl.”
“Have some cider.” He insisted instead of answering you, pressing a warm, chipped mug into your hands. “It's almost time.”
You grumbled a little to yourself but obediently sipped on the mulled beverage while Karl banked the fire in the stove and put on his own coat. Several days before the winter solstice, the man had gone out and constructed a small shelter on the rise of land the Duke normally inhabited, and it was from this shelter that the two of you emerged into the frigid blue of dawn. The Duke, parked nearby in his cart as ever, offered a wave but no further commentary, for which you were immensely grateful. It was still a bit early to be cordial, nevermind carry on a full conversation.
The air was breathtakingly cold; you could feel the rush of wind whipping past your nose and biting at any exposed skin it could find. The hot cider was now a lifeline and you kept your mittened hands tightly wrapped around it, taking a more hearty sip.
“Not long now.” Karl murmured, embracing you from behind and resting his chin on the crown of your head.
“Are you going to explain to me what the point of all of this is?” You grumbled, slouching back against him.
It was several minutes before Karl spoke again, the man seemingly content to sit in silence. “It's…I don't know, it's like the opposite of the binding ritual.” He fidgeted with your coat for a moment (well, it was one of his coats, but you'd sewed an extra thick lining into it to keep yourself warm), eventually tucking his hands into the pockets.
You hummed, not overly certain you understood what he was getting at, but also no longer cold.
The sun slowly rose over the horizon, burning through the tall pines and setting the morning mist alight with prismatic eddies in its wake. You squinted against the brilliant beams, every inch of your body suddenly tingling. It felt a bit like waking up after a long, long sleep in an awkward position, disoriented and rumpled. Sometimes in Heisenberg's factory you could go days without seeing the outside world, so perhaps your reaction was to be expected. It was a beautiful sunrise, all things considered.
Karl sounded a little faint when he said, “I think…I think there might have been something to that old witch after all.” He shook himself bodily, as if he was a dog that had just been given an unwanted bath. “Granted, nothing she can do about me now. But it does feel sort of–mystical.” He muttered something you couldn't make out under his breath, then raised his voice again. “Shortest day, longest night, rebirth, blah blah blah. We'll have to have a huge bonfire tonight, I guess.”
“Oh?” You tilted your head back to look at him. “Why?”
“Burning away the old, in with the new.” Karl sucked in a deep breath. “I'm…I'm happy you're still here with me.” He said gruffly.
“I'm happy to be here.” You assured him, your voice soft.
“...I haven't told Donna I'll be building a massive fire next to her shitty little village.” Heisenberg mentioned casually moments later, as though it had only just occurred to him. Judging from the incredibly smug grin on his face, however, that had been his plan from the start.
With Karl animatedly explaining about the Wild Hunt and the connections between someone named Freyja and the winter ‘rebirth’ of the sun, the two of you set off into the woods to search for dead trees and other dry kindling, his hand in your own. His grin eventually softened into a genuine smile as he answered your questions, and you found yourself falling silent just to hear him expand upon what was clearly a favored subject to him. He had a strange light in his eyes, but not necessarily an unwelcome one. It seemed more like he was returning to life.
The arbiter that was the solstice appeared to have once more come to bear, the cycle beginning anew. You had broken the previous cycle of course, so you hadn't the faintest idea of what this new one could have in store for you, but you knew for a fact that whatever the future held, you and Lord Heisenberg would face it together.
Karl, you thought privately, a content little smile on your face.
“Why are you starin’ at me like that?”
You started, realizing belatedly that yes, you had been staring at the large man currently giving you a sideways look. “I–you seem happy, that's all. And I'm glad that you are.”
Karl blew out a raspberry, the steam from his breath swirling into the air. “‘Course I am. You're here.” You started beaming and he groaned, rumpling your hair while teasing, “don't get any ideas, sweetheart. Just because I want to keep you around forever…”
A terrifying lord, a ferocious fighter, The Iron Horse…and lastly, your love.
#karl heisenberg#lord karl heisenberg#eventual romance#fix it fic#au#resident evil#re 8#re 8 village#resident evil village#resident evil karl heisenberg#karl heisenberg x reader#karl heisenberg imagine#re 8 karl heisenberg#loyal mad dog trope#happy ending#it is a good day#enjoy!
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