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megamindsecretlair · 9 months

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Mr. Black, Part 4

Pairing: Tre x Assistant!Black!Fem!/ Plus Size reader

Warnings: 18+, Minors DNI, You are in charge of your own reading experience. Intentional use of AAVE. FILTH. PWP, cursing, PIV, fingering (fem receiving), oral (male and fem receiving) dirty talk, praise kink, dumbass reader, power imbalance, Tre is a boss, all consensual.

Summary: Tre invited you to his place. After pampering yourself on his dime, you're still not sure that this is what you should be doing. However, he can be very persuasive.

Word Count: 6,439k

A/N: Lissen, don't look at me okay?! This story is scratching a deep fucking niche. Please, please consider commenting and reblogging to help support writers! And please put ages in bios! Or get blockt!

Taglist: @planetblaque @browngirldominion @notapradagurl7 @honeyoriginalz @blackerthings @sevikasblackgf @henneseyhoe @miyahmaraj @my1onlysenpai @darqchilddaydreamz @badassdoll @playgurlxoxo @eggnox @abeautifulmindexposed @theyscreamsannii @melaninpov @mcdesij @kholdkill @blowmymbackout @theunsweetenedtruth @monaeesstuff @cocoeffects @soft-persephone @duckiesfairy @slippinninque @westside-rot @prettypink-princesss @kawaiisadoglu @thadelightfulone @the-crystal-one

Getting pampered was exactly the remedy you needed. You got your nails and toes down in your favorite color. You couldn’t stop looking at the pretty color on your nails and squealing about it being on Tre’s dime. You felt slightly guilty, so you made sure to tip with your own money.

You went shopping for a sexy pair of black lingerie with all kinds of peek-a-boo straps that you imagined Tre uncovering. The front covered your boobs with an intricate flower design trailing down to the panties that covered your pussy. Straps connected to the underwire, middle, and over your hips. The back was a criss cross of straps ending up with a strip of fabric in your ass that was surprisingly comfortable.

You took your time getting dolled up. Running a shower to get the gunk off of you and then hopping in the bath to truly soak. You massaged your favorite lotion into your skin. You felt dirty over such a simple task but you knew that Tre would appreciate the extra care.

You felt downright naughty as you shimmied into the lingerie piece. You checked your ass in the mirror while you adjusted the straps and made sure that your body was banging. Tonight had to be the last night you two got together.

You couldn’t be held responsible for this thing between you. You had no idea what to call it. He wasn’t yours and you weren’t his, despite his proclamations otherwise. You didn’t need the extra headache of sleeping with your boss.

But how could you stop? When you got around him, you just wanted to hop to his every command. You loved the way he loved your body, playing it like a well tuned instrument in a prodigy’s hands. If you experienced such incomparable pleasure, who else could compete?

You had time to think about how you were going to tell him that tonight absolutely had to be the last time between you. It had to be. You chanted that in your head as you pulled up to Tre’s house.

You expected some huge mansion with fifteen bathrooms and a million bedrooms. His house was a modest two story that was picturesque in its simplicity. The house was white with black trim, clean lawn, and a wide brick front porch. There was even a tiny fence around the lawn, more decorative than anything else.

Ascending the stairs was not unlike walking to your death as you knocked on the door and rang the doorbell. Your nerves skittered along your spine, twisting your stomach into painful shapes.

Before long, Tre opened the door. You didn’t know why you kept expecting certain things about him. He defied expectations. Laughed in its face as he marched to the tune of his own drum.

He licked his lips as he took in your sexy little black dress and fuck me heels. He stepped to the side and held his hand out so that he could help you over the threshold. You took his warm hand with a smile, letting him pull you inside. He closed and locked the door behind you.

The foyer area was spacious with dark features. The furniture was dark wood, floors cherry, and the walls painted a velvety blue. He helped slip your coat off of your shoulders and sighed in appreciation.

“Good evening, beautiful,” he said.

You lifted an eyebrow and turned to look at him. He said nothing as he continued to look you over. Wait till he saw what you wore underneath.

You dug in your clutch purse and handed him his card. “You have to take this back,” you said.

He looked at the card in your hands. He placed his hands in his pockets and you pressed your lips together, preparing for a fight. You were a bit distracted by what he wore. He was in his signature black but pared way down. He wore a long-sleeved sweater with the sleeves rolled up three-quarters of the way up his muscled arms.

His pants were loose fitting, almost like lounge pants, but didn’t look to be so. He didn’t wear shoes in the house, opting instead for black house shoes. His glasses were perched on his nose and his beard looked just as soft as you remembered from earlier in the day.

You squared your shoulders and shoved the card against his chest. “You have to take this back,” you said once more.

He smirked at the card. “As much as I want you to keep them heels on, I will ask you to slip them off,” he said.

“Are you listening to me?”

“Keep the card. It’s yours now. Spend all my money,” he said.

You sputtered and gaped at him. “I-I can’t. That’s…”

The complete opposite to what you were trying to do tonight. Would it be completely wrong to wait till after you got dicked down to tell him that this was over? You wrestled with your morals. Yesss…

“Sir,” you said with a deep breath. Time to rip the band aid.

“I made us dinner and I want to discuss some things with you before you try to end this,” he said.

“How did you know?”

Tre only shook his head, nodding down at your shoes. You scoffed as you finally took off your heels. You bit back a moan as your feet hit the cold wood. You wiggled your toes and Tre caught the motion with an amused smile.

“We’re similar in a lot of ways. Stubborn to the point of obstinate,” he said.

He grabbed your hand and pulled you deeper into the house. You put the card up in your clutch one-handed. To your left, there was a small living room with a few couches and chairs. More like a receiving room than anything people actually lived in. Next to it, there was a formal dining room with dark tables and chairs, a cabinet with fancy glassware. It was like you stepped into a magazine. Everything was decorated and gorgeous.

Further down the hallway, a staircase led up to the second floor. It was a subtle spiral staircase and you wondered if the tour would continue up there. You supposed not.

The hallway opened up to a family room. Here, the furniture looked a little more lived in. The walls were paneled and matched the blue couches. The stone fireplace did not have a fire lit. There was a large screen TV on the wall with a wooden cabinet beneath it with game consoles, remotes, and DVDs stacked in the corner.

It seemed instantly cozy, like you just wanted to sink down onto one of the couches and sleep for five years. On the other side of the staircase, the kitchen had a half wall separating it from the main living room. There were three black bar stools that Tre led you to. He pulled it out for you and you sat down.

He entered the kitchen and pulled a top off of a boiling pot. The food smelled divine. Like creamy pasta.

The kitchen had stained cabinets with a stone backsplash. The countertops were a light shade of ash wood and he had every modern compliance on the market. You eyed everything warily.

Maybe he rented this place. There was no way he was this damn refined. Not with the way he acted most of the time. You felt like you were out of your depth here. You were used to dealing with well-meaning men who just…weren’t grown in the grand scheme of things.

Half the time, you had to do all the work. Sure, they said the right things and did the right things. But sometimes, little things would bother you. If it was their decision to go to the chocolate shop, you would pick out some candy. At the register, they would ask if you were going to buy it. It was incredibly awkward pulling your wallet out for an unexpected expense.

It was why you hated asking for things. Fuck ‘em. You made your own money and you didn’t need anyone to buy you things. Tre’s chain around your thigh rubbed against your other thigh as you settled fully on the bar stool. You still felt incredibly guilty wearing it but it added to how sexy you felt.

You were a conflicted ball of nerves and you hated your brain sometimes.

“You think that this is something I started on the spur of the moment. I’m not that spontaneous,” Tre said, breaking the silence.

You snapped your attention to him. He had his back to you while he stirred the pot. He tapped the wooden spoon against the pot and then picked up a metal one. He dipped it into the sauce, tasted it, and then rinsed it off.

He replaced the top and then turned to look at you, leaning his arms on the countertop. “I’ve never been a trees for the forest type of guy. I see the whole damn forest. I see beyond it. I see what I want and I go for it with a single-minded focus. It’s helped in business,” he continued.

Your heart thundered in your chest. You had no idea where this was going, but it seemed important.

“When you started, I knew I wanted you. You were so…good.”

“You say that like it’s a bad thing,” you said.

He shook his head. “Not bad. But it pissed me off. When you fire people for a living, you have to turn off that empathic part of yourself. You can’t see people, you can only see numbers. When you started, I wanted to stamp that goodness out if I could. Get you to quit on your own.”

You gasped. “Are you fuckin’ kidding me?”

Tre held up his hands. “Let me finish.”

You wanted to climb over the table top and strangle that thick neck of his. But this was the most you ever heard him speak in one sitting. He was very much an action type of man. So you bit your tongue and waved for him to continue.

“I needed you to quit because I couldn’t fire you. I promise you, you could have asked for all my life’s savings and I would’ve gladly handed it over. I didn’t need that shit if I was destroying people’s lives every twenty minutes.”

You licked your lips as you digested this. You still knew so little about this man. He constantly surprised you.

“I tried to resist you. I tried my hardest. I demanded shit. But the more you rose to the occasion, the more turned on I got. I don’t want to treat you like a sex doll, but half my day is spent bricked up just trying to get back in between your legs.”

Your pussy throbbed at his words. He shattered your world with these confessions. A world you carefully built brick by brick. Once you figured out how to interact with someone, you placed them in boxes. Tre was firmly in the asshole box, but now you weren’t so sure.

“I just knew that the more I demanded, the more you’d get fed up and quit. So I could get you out of my system. I could get an ugly assistant and move on with my life. But then you kept calling me Sir, kept doing great work despite the typos and the lollygagging, and…I lost. I lost to you.”

He stared at you with a crippling intensity. “When I called you into my office to address the typos, I didn’t know what would happen when I spanked you. I was ready for you to call HR or the police. But I had to know what your ass felt like in my hands. When you let me continue, it was like an early Christmas present. I had to see what else I could get away with.”

He slowly walked around the kitchen, exiting it, and walking closer to you. Your eyes tracked his movements, unsure what to do or say.

“The more you let me get away with, the more I want to try more and do more. Everyone else be damned. I’m not into feelings. But it’s clear that you need it to feel settled about this. I don’t know where this is going. But I know that I feel possessive already. You’ve been mine since you started and when I see you talking to another man, I want to kick his teeth in.”

He got closer to you but didn’t close that final gap. You were close enough for his clean soap and airy scent to hit you. But far enough away that you’d have to lean to touch him.

“I want to spoil you. I want to treasure you. I want to bend you like a pretzel and see if you break,” he said.

A laugh escaped you but there wasn’t a damn thing funny about the way he was looking at you. “You know how wild that sounds, right?”

He smiled slowly and cocked his head. He was so deliciously sexy and being honest about his feelings was only turning you on more. The lingerie was a mistake. You were going to soak right through the little scrap of material and leave a puddle all over his nice, faux leather stools.

“What I don’t know is how you feel. You’re either running away or trying to end this. But when you’re underneath me, I feel like you could feel something for me.”

You bit your lip. Shit. You weren’t expecting honesty hour. Your throat turned parched and scratchy and you looked away from his face.

“You scare me,” you said. You peeked at him and the only thing that changed was a raised eyebrow.

“I don’t think you’ll hurt me in that way. I just feel like…this is what a well-adjusted adult looks like and that’s so not me. Like…you could have anyone you want. Why me?” You asked. You weren’t putting yourself down. You just knew you had to do a lot of work on yourself and no one was perfect.

“Why not you?”

You giggled nervously. “Why me?”

“Why not you?”

Right. Stubborn to the point of obstinate.

“I’m starting to think this is about control. Do you feel out of control with me?”

You rubbed your forehead. “What are you, a therapist or something?”

Tre smiled and rocked back on his heels. “I had an interesting childhood. I had to be an asshole to survive. My bull in a china shop routine isn’t going to get me anywhere with you. And if I haven’t made that clear, that is my goal.”

“I never know what you’re feeling. Sex makes all the sense in the world. We’re both trying to get off. And you feel amazing. You know you do. But…me…” Was it about control? Did you hate that he made you unsettled, unmoored, and guessing for the first time in your life?

You made it your mission to be prepared. To make up for your shortcomings. Your strength was in anticipating people’s needs and ensuring that you were as helpful as possible. To have someone like him trying to look after someone like you…it didn’t compute. He didn’t need anything. And you felt useless.

Tre waited patiently while you worked through your emotions. You hated that you couldn’t pluck them from your brain and explain it in a coherent way.

“I’m scared that you’ll get bored with me. That this novelty will wear off and you’ll be fine while I’m jobless and embarrassed,” you admitted. There. You got that out.

Tre nodded. “I will not get bored with you. There is no novelty. I just want you,” he said calmly and plainly.

“You say that now–”

“And I mean it now. I’ll mean it tomorrow and the day after that,” he said.

“You can’t make that promise,” you said.

Tre smiled. Obstinate.

“What can I do to help you trust me?” He asked. He opened his hands. “I want to get to know you better.”

“Patience. I need patience. You…consume. You take up the whole room when you’re in it. It doesn’t leave any room for thinking,” you said.

“Maybe you need to think less.” Tre walked back into the kitchen to check on the sauce. He turned off the stove and grabbed two bowls. He scooped pasta noodles into it and then ladled the sauce over it.

He placed a bowl in front of you and on the place setting next to you. He fluffed salad in a bowl and then plated it on a smaller plate, placing it next to your bowl. He had different options for salad dressing so you pointed to your favorite one. He put some on your salad, some on his, and then he poured you some wine.

He rounded the kitchen and sat down next to you. He pointed for you to go first. The pasta both looked and smelled heavenly. Restaurant quality. You dug in, grabbing a big bite. You moaned around the taste.

“Good god, this is delicious,” you said.

Tre smirked. “Been working on this sauce since last night,” he said.

“You knew you were going to invite me here last night?” You asked.

“Beyond the forest,” he said. He dug into his own food.

Conversation turned to lighter topics. He spoke briefly about that interesting childhood of his. He was rowdy, combative, getting into fights left and right. His estranged uncle stepped in, trying to be a father to him where his own wasn’t. Showed him how to “be a man”.

It was beyond gender. It was how you carried yourself. How you spoke, how you dressed, how you interacted with others. If you were the biggest in the room, then it was your responsibility to protect those in the room.

“That sounds impossible to live up to,” you said.

“Not when you really think about it. A man’s job is to protect those in his care. Cherish the people in his circle. To move with respect. It’s as easy as breathing,” Tre shrugged. “I know I’m an asshole but I’m not going to go out of my way to make someone else’s life miserable.”

“No, just mine.” You playfully rolled your eyes and Tre smirked.

You told him about your family and how you always felt like you weren’t doing things right. You couldn’t compare to your siblings with amazing jobs and their heads on straight. The only thing in your life that made sense was school.

After it, you just felt adrift. You flitted from one thing to the next, not knowing what you wanted to do with your life. It was dangerous to compare your life to others. But it felt like they knew exactly where they were headed. You on the other hand? You just wanted a fucking break.

“You’re not doing anything wrong. Everybody is different,” Tre said.

“No, I know. I just…I don’t know what I want to do.”

“What gets you up in the morning?”

“Money?” You giggled. When it came down to it, you wanted enough money to not have to agonize over your bank account week to week. To get money, you had to work for others. And you hated working for others. You hated being told what to do, what to wear, when to show up.

“That’s a fair motivator. But what do you not mind doing for money?” He asked.

You shrugged. “There lies the rub,” you said. You finished up dinner, not able to eat another single bite. It had been one of the best dinners you had ever had.

You and Tre moved over to the couch with your wine. You continued your conversation there, moving on to silly topics like video games and movies. You discussed the books you’ve read and he seemed genuinely interested in what you were saying.

This was a set up. He was seducing you. You eyed him over the rim of your wine glass as you listened to him speak about his favorite author. He had made no move to touch you. It was all you could think about.

You shifted and placed one leg under you as you faced him. He copied your stance. You paid attention to his lips as he spoke. The way his voice played with sounds. You paid attention to his hands when he wanted to emphasize certain points. Hands that you had first hand knowledge could wring pleasure from you like wringing out a washcloth.

“Are you okay?” Tre asked.

“Huh?” You asked and blinked. The wine was making you feel airy and light. A light buzz. You felt good. Really good. And he was looking more good as you cataloged his movements.

Tre smiled. “I asked you if you wanted more wine,” he said.

“No, thank you.” The hell did he put in it? Because you were burning the fuck up. And you couldn’t stop thinking about his hands on you. His lips on yours. His dick sliding inside you.

You scooted closer to him and placed your wine glass on the coffee table. He drained his glass and scooted closer as well, until you were breathing the same air.

“Why haven’t you touched me?” You asked. The wine gave you a burst of boldness.

Tre smiled. “Do you want me to touch you?”

“Why haven’t you?”

“You can’t have it both ways. You either want patience or for me to steamroll ahead. I only work in absolutes,” he said.

You sighed. “Does that mean the sex stops?”

Tre chuckled. “Is that all I’m good for?”

“Will you stop answering my questions with questions?”

“Will you be honest with me?” Obstinate bastard.

“I want you to fuck me!” You squealed. You bit your lip after but didn’t take it back. He couldn’t get you feening for his touch and then yank it away when it was convenient for him.

Tre only watched you with an amused smile on his face. You wanted to smack it off of him.

“Tell me what you really want,” he said.

“I don’t want the sex to stop.” There, you said it. “I don’t want this to end. But you have to…let me adjust to it.”

He kept looking at you. “Do you want me to say I want you? Is that it?” You asked.

“Do you?”

You growled and Tre chuckled. “I want you,” you said.

Tre ran a finger across your jaw. He lifted your chin and leaned down for a soft kiss. “Show me you want me.”

You leaned back to look into his eyes. You should have known. Nothing about this man was easy.

You stood up and took the straps off your shoulders slowly. Tre adjusted his position to face forward as you moved to stand in front of him. You kept your eyes on his as you unzipped your dress and let it cascade down your body.

Tre hissed as he took in your lingerie set. “I buy that for you?”

“You did,” you said with a smile.

“Money well fuckin’ spent,” he said.

You stepped out of your dress and picked it up. You placed it on the couch so it wouldn’t wrinkle too badly. Then, you slowly sank to your knees in front of him, rubbing on his legs. You rubbed on his thighs, getting higher and higher. His pants began to tent as you got closer to the waistband. He didn’t help you as you unbuttoned his pants. You gripped his hard dick and moved the tip across your lips.

Precum painted your lips and you licked your lips around the tip of him. He took a deep breath, jaw flexing. You stared into his eyes as you slowly swallowed him down. You struggled to completely get him in your mouth, but soon you were drooling on his dick.

Tre adjusted his hips, pulling his pants down a bit more as you began to suck him down. Your hands gripped the rest of him and you rubbed his shaft while paying attention to the head of his dick. You licked and played with the velvety soft head of him, flicking your tongue across the tip.

He hissed and jerked as he moaned. He moved his arms to the back of the couch, relaxing into the blow job. You watched as he threw his head back so all you saw was his luscious beard. You bobbed your head faster, the way you knew he liked.

You were rewarded with his moans getting louder, deeper, with a rattle in his chest that had you clenching your thighs together.

“I’m about to bust,” he moaned.

You continued sucking him off, hollowing your cheeks. He tensed before he unloaded in your mouth. The salty musk of his cum splashed down your throat and you swallowed all of him down. You moaned and let him go with a wet pop.

Tre blew out a breath as he rubbed his face. “Thank you,” he said.

You smiled at him. His fingers traced the corners of your mouth where drool likely escaped you. You turned into a sex fiend where he was concerned.

“Get up here,” he said.

You stood up and moved to straddle his legs so you could finally get some dick. He shook his head, pointing towards the couch. He took off his glasses and put it on the coffee table. You laid down and Tre grabbed your ankle. He pushed it to the back of the couch, spreading you completely open for him.

His hand found the chain around your thigh and his eyes briefly flared looking at the tiny “T” dangling from it. He wrapped his hand around it while he brought his face down against your pussy.

He licked you over the fabric and you moaned, gyrating your hips against his face. He licked the crease of the set, capturing part of your skin and you shivered in the warm room.

“Please,” you whispered.

“Please, what?” He asked. His breath fanned over your damp pussy and you shivered again. You needed relief right this second.

“Please, Sir,” you begged.

He used his free hand to move your panties to the side and finally bring his lips to your pussy. He moaned when he discovered how wet you were and how much he got to lick up. You were dripping with your essence, right onto his face and the couch.

“Fuck,” you shuddered, the word shaky in your throat.

“Mhm, get louder for me. Just me and you here,” he whispered against your pussy. And then he really went to town, digging his face so far into your pussy, you felt the way his jaw flexed.

He was right. You were finally in an appropriate place to have sex. You could be as loud as you needed to be. You began to moan louder, encouraging him with a twist of your hips and roll of his tongue that he was eating you out exactly how you liked.

He paid more attention to your clit, sucking and slurping up your juices. You felt the burn in your thighs as you were nearing your peak. The tightening in your belly worsened until you were snapping your thighs together, screaming out your release.

Tre was right there to feel you cum on his tongue. He hummed in satisfaction as you shook against his face. When you calmed down, when your back came back down to rest on the blue couch, he straightened up. He had your juices trailing down his beard and he wiped a hand down the lower half of his jaw.

“Come on,” he said. He grabbed your hand and helped you sit up on the couch. Then, he headed towards the stairs.

The upstairs was just as well-decorated as the first floor. It was all a blur as he tugged you down the hall towards the master suite. You weren’t really surprised that his sheets and comforter were black. It suited him more so than the earthy tones throughout the rest of the house.

You moved to get on his bed, but he stopped you. He planted a wet kiss on your lips, taking his time to fully explore you. His hand wrapped around your throat, pulling you deeper into the kiss. The pressure on your neck made your eyes roll back in your head.

“Wait here,” he said. He placed one last kiss on your lips before moving away. You watched as he went into the bathroom.

You just came but it wasn’t enough. You wanted more. You wanted him. You wanted that dick between his legs to make you walk funny in the morning. Water turned on, sounded like the shower, and you wanted to walk in there to see what he was doing.

He came out of the bathroom, taking off his shirt. You gasped softly. Fuck. He was beautiful. You openly ogled his body. Thick, rippling muscles. A sexy layer of bulk that you could bounce a quarter off of.

He looked damn good in his suits. He looked damn good in casual wear. But shirtless? Your knees wobbled and you wondered if you were going to swoon.

He approached you slowly, like a predator stalking a prey. His hands reached out to run across your lingerie that suddenly felt too tight. He began to unsnap, kissing the parts of you that he revealed. Inch upon inch of you was uncovered, covered in his kisses.

He freed your breasts and rubbed sensation back into it. He plucked on your nipples and you moaned softly. “I need you to wear this again,” he said.

You giggled and turned in his arms so that you could face him. He bent down to suck one of your nipples into his mouth.

“Did you turn the shower on?” You asked.

“Mhm,” he moaned against your nipple.

You answered with a moan as well, biting your lip because it felt too damn good. “But…”

“I got a shower cap for you,” he said.

“There is no way I’m letting you fuck me with a shower cap on!” Oh god, how embarrassing.

“Do you think it would make you less sexy to me?” He straightened up and kissed you. “You are the sexiest creature I’ve ever laid eyes on. You could wear a sack and I’d want to fuck the coins out of you,” he continued.

You laughed, covering your mouth to keep from squawking like a chicken. Tre lowered your hands and looked into your eyes.

“I’m in it. Are you?”

Why couldn’t he make shit easy for once? You nodded. “I’m in it.”

He pulled you to the bathroom, leaving your lingerie on the floor. His bathroom was gorgeous. The floors were cream tile with big squares. He had plenty of rugs inside so you weren’t stepping on the cold floor for too long. He had a walk-in shower with clear glass doors. The sink was at a comfort height, two sinks, with soft gray towels hanging from a bar.

He had a long cabinet that stretched nearly to the ceiling and you longed to rub your hands over it. You only dreamed of bathrooms like these. You didn’t think they actually existed outside of supremely rich houses where they were wasted on people with no appreciation.

Steam filled the room, frosting over the glass doors and mirrors. Tre dropped his pants to the floor, picked them up, and threw them into a hamper you hadn’t seen. He handed you a shower cap.

You took a deep breath and put it on, tucking your hair inside. Welp, here you were in all your crazy glory.

He didn’t see you any differently. He pulled you in for a soft, tender kiss and then opened the shower door. You stepped inside and the warm water hit your back and you sighed. You usually liked it way hotter than this.

The devil himself needed to come out and lick your back in order for you to feel comfortable in a shower, but the point wasn’t to get clean at the moment. It was to get dirty.

You leaned forward, palming his dick and running your hands along his length. Tre moaned low in his throat before gripping your hips and pushing you against the wall of the shower. Your back hit the cold tile but you were saved by his warm, strong hands as they rubbed your back.

He rubbed his dick, getting slick from the water. He began to kiss you and you wrapped your arms around his broad shoulders. The shower cap crinkled and you had a brief stab of embarrassment.

It quickly dissipated as Tre lifted you up. You squealed, wrapping your legs around his hips. He grinned evilly while you clung to him for dear life. He was doing a whole lot in this slippery ass shower.

Panic and arousal drove your nerves through the roof. You took deep breaths, trying to focus on the water on your side.

“I got you,” he said. He pushed your back against the wall and spread your legs to accommodate his hips. He shifted as his dick found your entrance. With the water and your arousal, he was able to slide in easily.

You groaned, your jaw dropping open. “Never get sick of that,” he said.

He placed one hand on the wall behind you to brace himself. Then, he set to work thrusting into your wet heat. He groaned as he started to slide easier due to fresh arousal leaking out of you.

“Oh fuck,” you moaned.

“Mhm, feelin’ so good on this dick,” he groaned.

Your thighs shook as he thrust into you slow and deep. He set a relaxed pace, making sure to get as deep as possible on every stroke. You felt every inch of him. Every last smooth glide of his mushroom head against your inner walls.

Your hands gripped his smooth, deep onyx skin. Water droplets hit his head, beard, and arms. You gripped the back of his neck and held on as he grunted and hit you deep enough to bruise. You cried out, cumming immediately on his dick.

“Fuck, let me feel it,” he said. He stopped moving as you convulsed on his dick, unable to form a sentence or thought. You squeezed the hell out of him, feeling incredibly full.

“You can give me another,” he said.

“I can’t,” you moaned.

“Yes, you can. You can give me another before I bust all in this pretty pussy,” he moaned.

“S-Sir!” You whined. You didn’t have another one in you. It was impossible. Your lips sloppily found his as his tongue mimicked what his dick was doing. Both speared inside of you and you moaned, thighs shaking, toes curling.

He grunted and moaned in your ear, whispering filthy things. “Come on, I know you can do it. I know you got another one. I know you want to cum all over this dick again. You know you want me to feel how good I tear this shit up.”

You cried, a wailing keen that sounded loud. It was amplified in the shower due to the tile. You sounded needy. You sounded desperate.

“Give me another one. Let that pussy go,” he cooed.

“Sir, Sir, Sir,” you chanted. Somehow, that dick was able to pull another one out of you. You screamed as you came, growing deaf in one ear. A high, tinny ringing pierced your ear as you came once more on his dick.

He moaned and kissed your ear. “That’s it. Don’t that feel better? You did so good. So good lettin’ me feel that pussy creamin’ on this dick,” he moaned.

“Sheeit,” you moaned.

Tre sighed and screamed out his climax, pumping you with thick spurts of cum. You shook and twitched as you felt him pulsing inside of you. He slipped out, letting you down to stand on wobbly legs.

He lifted your leg so he could watch himself slip out of you. “Sheit,” you moaned as you felt his cum leaking out.

Tre used his fingers to fuck some of it back inside you. You squealed and twitched. Your clit was entirely too sensitive. “I can’t,” you cried.

“Okay, okay, I’m sorry,” he said. Not sounding the least bit sorry.

Who the hell was this man? You couldn’t figure him out. He cooked you dinner, ate you out, and delivered orgasms like some full service sex god. He unnerved you. He was an enigma. It was driving you crazy trying to puzzle him out.

Tre smirked as he grabbed a washcloth, soaped it up, and began to wash your body. His soap that you loved so much smelled even better up close and personal. He helped you flip over so he could get your back and ass. He was careful to clean your pussy, running the cloth back and forth over your clit.

You whined and shook as he did so and he planted kisses all over your face, enjoying your torment. Asshole. He helped rinse you off and then he stood under the shower. He grabbed a fresh washcloth and cleaned himself off.

You grew sleepy watching him soap up that sexy body of his. He watched you, smirking and throwing winks your way as he lowered the cloth to his dick. You watched with rapt attention.

You only wished you could suck him back down and make him scream and squirm like he had you doing. He rinsed off and then turned off the water. He left the shower first, grabbing thick, buttery towels. He wrapped one around his waist and then helped you out of the shower.

He wrapped the towel around your body and helped you to the room. He dried you off completely. He made sure every last droplet was wiped from you and then removed the shower crap. He fixed a few fly away hairs.

“Sexy,” he murmured.

You could only stare at him. You were out of your depth once more. Unable to sort through your emotions and give this a name. He leaned down for a kiss. His wet beard tickled your chin.

He lowered you into the bed and dried the rest of his body off. He peeled back the covers and let you slide in. You sighed. You felt so warm and comfortable. Tre slid in behind you, pulling your waist into his hips. His dick settled into the crook of your ass and he nuzzled into your neck.

“Night, beautiful.”

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queenie-avenue · 10 months

Text

Terms and Conditions Apply.

💌 ⤻ THE CEO, ADRIAN HOUDE

—> you're the sweet little intern, and he's the big bad wolf who wants to eat you up.

⤻ reader is written as a female, yandere male, age gap, power dynamic, toxic obsession, slightly suggestive, slight financial abuse, set in london, this is a drabble but full fics of him will be made in the future

🦋 ⤻ archives.

TOP TEN BACHELORS NEAR YOU!

1. Adrian Houde.

Tall, Handsome, Rich, Successful, Ambitious. Ask anyone with more than half a braincell and they will immediately tell you that all these traits are what Adrian Houde has! Born from the rich Houde Family known for their luxury fashion products, he had risen the ranks as CEO of his family's company a few years back.

And boy oh boy, has he made himself known. From various (fake) scandals of him dating various women, to his success in the market in revolutionising his family's industry in fast fashion but still remaining loyal to his grandmother's routes as a custom tailor who first gained traction in France.

Perhaps Mister Houde's only flaw is that he has been on this bachelor list for far too long! He's already in his mid-30s, can you believe this guy has been single for so long?

So, to the lady who catches his eye, good luck surviving all the jealous women who are going to come after you, sweetheart!

✧ Ƹ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄Ʒ ✧

Adrian Houde is a proud man. I mean, who wouldn't be, right? He was successful, and rich, and practically everyone — regardless of gender or age — wanted to be with him or be like him. He was the pinnacle of a great man, just like his father had said he would be.

So why was it that when you entered the office, looking like a lost little puppy dog, that you captured his interest immediately. Perhaps it was the coffee stains on your skirt and the way your eyes sparkled with desire for greatness. He had seen that spark many times before. In his own eyes, actually. From the moment he saw himself in the mirror as a teen who became aware of the legacy on his shoulders, he knew he was bound for greatness. And you, a simple woman, of all people, carried that same determination and ambition within those cute eyes of yours.

You couldn't blame him for being intrigued by you.

Especially when you looked at him with so much fear in your eyes he couldn't help but laugh.

"I am so sorry, sir- I had no idea anyone was in the meeting room this early." You apologised frantically, holding a bunch of papers and a small, slightly shabby notebook.

"No, no." Adrian voice was smooth and sweet, a mixture of his French accent and his London boy accent he had gotten from the years of being raised in London. "Don't apologise. I was a bit too early to the meeting room, it seems." He said, taking his hands out of the pockets of his suits, raising out his hand towards you.

"Adrian Houde." He introduced out of courtesy.

Hurriedly, you rushed to take his hand, firmly shaking it like you had been taught.

You touch sent shivers down his spine. Was it because your hands were cold or was it something else about you?

Either way, he liked it.

"[y/n] [l/n], sir. It's a pleasure to meet you." You smiled at him, that glow from your eyes never fading.

"[y/n] [l/n]," he repeated, allowing the syllables to roll down his tongue like something falling down the stairs, bouncing. "A pretty name, for a pretty girl." He chuckled cooly as he pulled his hand away.

"I've never seen you before, Miss [y/n]. Are you new?" He inquired.

"Ah, I'm an intern. I just- uh, got posted here recently." You smiled. "I'm a fashion design major."

He couldn't help but be a bit disappointed by that. You were a fashion design major, which meant that you and him would probably not see each other often unless he kept paying visits to the fashion department.

"Wonderful. It's nice to see such wonderful young minds in my company." The older man said as he adjusted the cuffs of his suit with a relaxed grin. "I just know you'll do great in this company."

That blush on your cheeks after he complimented you drove him crazy.

That was how your first meeting concluded.

✧ Ƹ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄Ʒ ✧

You were so intriguing that Adrian just couldn't keep his mind off you. The moment he returned to his office, he called up his secretary and immediately requested for your file.

When he got it, he couldn't help but obsess over it. Your portfolio was so perfect. From all your university extracurriculars to all your little quirks that the intreviewers had noted down, they were all there for him to overanalyse and understand. Your designs, he had to say, surpassed his grandmother's when she first started out the business.

His fingers traced past all the small details of the sketches of the dresses and suits you made and he wondered what you would look like as a model. Sure, you were the artist, but what if you were a muse?

He couldn't help but imagine you draped in fabrics, nothing else underneath.

He shook his head out of it.

Where was all this coming from? He was a gentleman, his grandmother had taught him to be one.

Brushing those thoughts aside, he went back to admiring your work with a smile.

Indeed, you were an asset he couldn't lose.

✧ Ƹ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄Ʒ ✧

Afterwards, he invested a lot of time into you. He would always drop by to the studio to talk to the head fashion designers then he would come find you, especially during your break where no one else would see you.

He disliked seeing you with others, terrified that someone else might steal his skilled intern away. No, he couldn't let any business rivals take you away from him.

Or at least, that was his justification.

Adrian would always watch you sketch your dresses behind you till you noticed and promptly let out a yelp. He enjoyed that fear in your eyes but what he enjoyed even more was the constant ambition sparkling in your pupils.

Right, you were his intern and his future designer. It was normal for him to be so invested in your growth.

After all, he was a gentleman. His grandmother had emphasised him to be in all his teachings, so this wasn't wrong. He wasn't preying on the cute intern because he wanted her. No, no, he was being a good boss by observing your actions and your growth.

Another defense as to why he began to nick your drawing pens away.

He would always replace them by gifting you more expensive pen though, a gift for you "allowing" him to have a close-up of the materials you use.

Plus, his future designer deserved the best.

You were his, after all.

"You lost another pen? No worries, I can gift you this one. Hm? Don't worry about it. Think of this as... an investment on your career."

#yandere male #yandere male x reader #yandere x reader #yandere imagines #yandere #yandere oc #yandere scenarios #yandere drabble #yandere fanfiction #female reader #yandere ceo #ceo

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djarincore · 8 months

Text

The Object of My Desire

SUMMARY: You're a hardworking scholar and the spoiled daughter of a corrupt nobleman.

The mercenary hired for your protection is more than willing to take your father's money, just not your bratty attitude. Luckily, he's got a few ways to deal with spoiled little girls like you.

PAIRING: fighter!price x wizard!reader

WORD COUNT: 5.1k

TAGS: DND!au, porn with some plot, f masturbation, dirty talk, cunnilingus, he bends you over a desk, PIV, rough sex, unprotected sex, slight breath play, creampie, slight jealously, reader gets called a bitch (not by Price but he does call you a brat whoops)

A/N: this is just a silly little idea that popped into my head while I tried learning more about DND! I actually rolled some dice to make some decisions/outcomes and it made the writing experience way more fun 10/10 recommend

Winter’s gray sky cast a torrent of rain against the cobblestone roads and blew frigid winds through the streets of Moongarde. Despite the relentless weather, citizens continued to migrate towards the town's center in attendance for the annual Heroes Feast.

You clutched your cloak tighter against your chest as you weaved through the crowds of people heading in the opposite direction. There were more important things to deal with than a stupid celebration—like the supposed danger you were in.

Having a father who enjoyed making enemies in high places certainly made your life interesting. Though, the threats on your life were, frankly, a nuisance. You had much better things to do than worry about silly threats from cowardly, old men. But, your father worried; he worried enough to hire a mercenary to guard you.

You hoped he wasn't old and boring like the last one you chased away. Any guard who succumbed to simple illustory spells like fear weren't worth the gold your father spent.

Ahead, a hanging sign swung forward in the wind. Carved into the wood was a crow perched on a branch, staring off beyond the borders of its design. The Ivory Crow—a dingy, little establishment you loathed to enter.

With a grimace, you made your way up the creaking wooden stairs. Already, you could hear rowdy, clamorous songs and bellowing voices seeping through the cracks of its shabby, wooden walls.

Before you could reach out to push open the swinging doors, they burst open and a man stumbled out, his weight nearly toppling onto you.

“S’rry ‘bout tha’, m’ss,” he slurred, hiccuping as he ended his sentence. He grabbed onto one of the doors to steady himself, though he still swayed.

“Move,” you demanded. His body blocked half the entrance and you weren’t interested in squeezing past him. He was covered in stains, presumably sweat and booze from the acrid smell of him.

He lifted his head towards you, eyes half-lidded. “Hey, don’ tell me wha’ ta do,” he hissed.

You rolled your eyes and raised a finger towards the man. The familiar warmth of magic pooled at your fingertip and was dispelled when you tapped his forehead.

He crumpled to the ground, eyes closed with his chest still rising and falling in a slow, steady rhythm.

You wiped your finger against your velvet cloak and stepped over the unconscious body into the tavern.

The inside was warmly lit by a large candle chandelier hanging from the tall rafters and more candles decorating tables. No one in the tavern seemed to have noticed your exchange. They were all absorbed in their own ideas of fun.

A dwarven bard strummed her lute on top of a table, singing an unfamiliar tune and absorbing the adoring applause of drunken patrons who chimed in off-key. Couples, locked in heated embraces, cozied themselves to dimly lit corners of the tavern.

If it wasn’t singing or lovers, there was plenty of conversation floating through the air to distract from anything outside.

Your eyes scanned the tavern’s edge, looking for a lone figure at one of the tables.

The mercenary gave your father instructions for you to find him at the Ivory Crow. Look for a bear on the pommel of his sword, your father had said.

In the far corner of the room, you finally spoted a vaguely familiar figure matching your idea of him, sitting on a stool with his back facing the wall and nursing a pint of ale between his hands. His eyes were downcast as he stared at the overflowing foam sliding down the metal pint.

He seemed to be the only lone figure in the tavern, everyone else was joined by at least one other companion.

His attire was shades of muted green and brown, darkened by grime and dirt. A sword tucked in its scabard leaned against the table. The pommel bore the crest of a roaring bear head.

You approached swiftly, maneuvering your way past the overflowing tables filled with patrons and stumbling drunks trying to get to the bar.

When you reached the mercenary, you stood at the edge of his table. His gaze lifted from his drink to you. Blue eyes met yours.

He wasn't as old as your last guard, and he certainly wasn't as boring to look at.

There was no surprise on his face as he looked at you, no glimmer of recognition; his stern countenance gave away nothing of his thoughts. His gaze was almost intense, discerning, and calculating.

You broke eye contact first to look down at the round stool opposite him. It had a spot of liquid on the edge that made you grimace.

All the other surrounding chairs looked occupied. So, you dug through your leather bag and pulled a purple cloth from it.

You wordlessly conjured up a spectral blue hand and offered up the cloth for it to wipe away the liquid. The hand dried up the liquid and deposited the cloth on the table before vanishing.

The mercenary had crossed his arms and leaned back against the wall to watch you, legs spread wide. Inquisitive eyes followed as you took a seat, back stiff with hands tucked into your cloak, clutching it tighter to your body as if it were shielding you.

“Ser Jonathan Price, correct?”

He nodded once and said nothing.

You fished a hefty pouch from your leather bag and tossed it towards him. The platinum pieces inside rattled as they hit the table.

His eyes fell to the bag for a moment, then slid back up to you, not attempting to reach for the pouch.

Maybe he was unimpressed.

“There's your payment for today—one hundred platinum pieces,” you stated and cleared your throat. “Now, the rules for this arrangement are simple: protect me and stay out of my way.”

You think he understood. He didn't say anything otherwise. There was a slight twitch in your eye when he tilted his head like he was looking at an amusing, little oddity.

After another moment his arms unfurled and a hand reached out for the pouch. He cradled it in his palm, hefting it for its weight. The coins rattled. When he pushed two fingers into the closed seam and spread it open, you scoffed.

“If you think I'm lying, don't. Your coin is there.” You crossed your arms, in an attempt to be as nonplussed as he was—it was a poor attempt. You couldn't help the frown that stuck to your lips.

He removed his fingers from the pouch and rapped his knuckles down hard against the wooden table twice, making you flinch and catching the attention of a passing barmaid.

Their exchange was quick. She turned her head toward him with a bright smile, flirty even as her eyes roamed down his figure. He pointed a finger down at his pint and flicked his wrist up to call for one more. She nodded and flitted back to the bar.

“Easy enough,” he said when he turned back to you. His voice was smoky, low. Probably caused by too many cigarettes and shouting. He rested his forearms on the table, one hand still gripped around the pouch. “But drop the ser, m’ not a knight.”

Your brows furrowed. You recalled the description your father gave you of him. A knight who served under the King’s banner for twenty years. “But you’re-”

“I was,” he interrupted firmly, leaving you with no room to argue.

Your mouth remained open, wanting to bite back, but when his brow raised slightly at the hint of a challenge, you clenched your jaw. Any attempt to delve further into the topic would only prove futile and a waste of time.

You took in a deep breath through your nose and exhaled through your mouth. “Fine,” you acquiesced. “How do I address you then?”

“John’s good enough for me."

“Okay, John,” you ground out and stood from your seat. “I want to leave before nightfall.”

He held his hand up, stopping you in your place. “We're not going anywhere yet, love.”

You bristled at both the nickname and his order. The arrangement was supposed to be the other way around. You give him orders and he follows.

“Sit, drink—I already bought you a mug.”

On cue, the barmaid returned to the table with another overflowing pint in her hand and set it down on your side. She wiped her hand down on her apron and looked at John, her charming smile returning. “Anythin’ else I can getcha?”

“No, thank you.” He returned her smile with a grin of his own. He dug into the pouch and pulled out a platinum piece, setting it in her outstretched hand.

Her eyes widened as she shook her head. “This is too much! The drinks are only ten silver!”

You crossed your arms and interjected, “I agree. That's far too much.”

“Keep it,” he assured, waving her off.

The barmaid scurried away with an even wider smile than you thought possible. Her hair and skirt bounced as she went.

With her gone, he turned his attention back to you and gestured back to your stool. “Drink with me.”

The foam dribbling down the sides of the metal pint made you grimace. You didn't drink ale; it wasn't to your taste. You preferred the rich, sweet taste of Evermead.

But, another part of you was tempted, not by cheap ale. It was the mercenary, the ex-knight, Jonathan Price. Stern to you, yet kind to the barmaid. Silent but still expressive. You felt the tug of curiosity, the desire to learn everything about this stranger and unfold his secrets.

You sat, watching as he took his ale and the bob of his throat as he drank.

He set down his drink, now half full, and nodded his head toward your mug. “Don't be shy, love. Go on.”

Your hand snuck out from your cloak and grasped the handle, cold and slightly sticky. Slowly, to not spill, you lifted the mug and took a sip. Cold liquid slid down your throat. The ale was bitter, watered down, and made your mouth twist with disgust.

“That bad, eh?” He chuckled. You were alarmed to find his low, raspy chuckle disarming. Surely, the ale hadn't got to your head already.

You set the mug down, pushing it further away with your fingers, and wiped your lips clean of any foam left behind with the back of your hand. “I can't believe you like this.”

“Oh, I don't like this garbage.” He laughed, grabbing his mug once more. His thumb idly ran down the handle, throwing a glance out to the crowded tavern. “Just drinking to pass the time.”

“Surely there are better taverns to drink in.” You glanced around at the rowdy patrons once more. Two men were standing toe to toe at the table across from you, exchanging heated words.

When he failed to respond, you tried following his eye. It led you to the opposite side of the room toward the barmaid who served you earlier tending to a group of adventurers. She pressed her hip against the table and chatted with them, laughing.

“So, it’s not the drinks that bring you back,” you muttered to yourself, moving your gaze back to him.

The small smile that tugged the corner of his lips as he watched her caused a strange feeling to stir in your chest. You clenched your hands together, forcing away the uncomfortable squeeze.

You stood abruptly from your seat, ignoring your chair tipping backwards and hitting the floor. His attention was on you again. The smile was gone.

“We’re going.”

“Haven't finished your drink,” he called as you stormed off.

You ignored him, pushing straight between the two quarreling men. Your hands pressed hard against both their chests to pry them out of your way.

The two men stumbled back, caught off guard.

“Hey!”

“Don't touch me, you little bitch,” the other snarled. His hand shot out to grab your wrist, narrowly latching on.

His movements were sloppy, most likely from all the ale he'd been drinking. You were quick enough to snatch your hand away before he could restrain you.

You were beginning to really hate this tavern.

More patrons were beginning to watch the exchange, sitting back like it was some spectacle.

But, you saw John rise from his stool. His hand grasping his sword as he approached the men from behind.

“Let's settle down, gentleman,” he said with a tired sigh.

The man who tried grabbing you turned his attention to John. “Stay outta this,” he hissed, clenching his fists and setting his shoulders back. He was much larger than John, towering at least a head taller.

You didn't want to find out how well a brawl between the two would end.

“Obtempero."

The spell sliped from your lips and the man stiffend. In that instance, your mind was linked with his as you forcibly erased any free will he had.

Shut up and sit down, you commanded.

The room went silent as the man lowered onto his seat. You clenched your jaw when your head began to throb, a sign of him fighting against your control.

“Quickly,” you beckoned to the mercenary. Your control over the man’s mind wouldn't last long and you didn't want to stick around to face his wrath.

You turned and dashed out the tavern doors, followed closely by John who was laughing to himself.

“Clearly you can handle yourself. Don't know what you need me for,” he said.

A light rainfall had started, coating you and the streets in water. You raised your hood over your head to shield yourself.

The street was still bustling with citizens with their umbrellas. A good cover in case the man tried following the two of you.

“I only agreed to a guard to appease father’s worries,” you muttered, sidestepping a pair of children running past you, chasing each other with wooden swords. “But, dealing with pea-brained oafs is easy compared to defending myself from someone with a dagger.”

He only hummed in reply, walking in stride with you up the cobblestone street. The rain was beginning to dampen his hair and clothes, but he didn't seem to mind.

You could feel your concentration on the spell waning the further you got until it snapped. You tensed and reached to grab John’s hand. His fingers wrapped around yours without question.

“We have to-”

“You bitch! I'm gonna tear you apart!”

Your head snapped around to find the man burst from the tavern door with a roar. Your heart jumped. The man almost seemed to burn with fury as he barreled up the street in search of you.

“This way.”

John tugged your hand and you allowed him to pull you through the street, weaving your way through throngs of people. He pulled you through unfamiliar streets that passed by in a blur before taking a sharp right into an alleyway, tugging you into the shadows.

Your back was against the stone walls and you heaved a sigh. Your heart raced with adrenaline. This certainly wasn't anything you'd experienced while nose-deep in a book. “Gods, I-”

“Shh,” he hushed, placing a hand over your mouth.

Your eyes widened. He was looking out towards the street and you realized how close he was standing, nearly pressed against your front. Your hand gripped his wrist; to pry it off or hold him close, you didn't know.

When he deemed the coast clear, his hand fell away.

“Don't do that again,” you said weakly.

He looked down at you, an amused smile forming. “Understood. Mind giving me my hand back then?”

You didn't realize your grip on his wrist remained. You released him and slipped away.

“I'll lead us home.”

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

The sun was just setting by the time you returned to the manor. John had followed you silently the whole way.

“Welcome back, ma'am,” Ann greeted once you entered the foyer. She was a maid you'd known since you were a child. Her warm smile was akin to that of a mother’s, though you'd never call her such.

“Ann will run you a bath and get you some new clothes.”

She was already moving up the left side of the split staircase to fulfill your request.

“What's wrong with my clothes?” John glanced down at his attire, smoothing his hand down the front of his doublet, now soaked with rain.

“They're filthy and soaked. Now go.” You used your hand to shoo him off and he followed Ann with a sigh, ascending the stairs.

You went off to another area of the manor where you could take your own bath and wash away the grime of that tavern.

When the bath was filled and ready, you shed your robes and stepped into the warmth, sighing as the warm water enveloped your body. You ran your hand up your arm, over your neck, and down your collarbone.

While you washed, your thoughts wandered back to John. A hand slipped down the valley of your breasts and between your thighs.

There was no question that he was attractive. The mercenary was new and surprisingly exciting—an experiment to toy with. You wanted to win him, have him in the palm of your hand and study what made him tick.

Your index finger brushed against your clit. The first hum of pleasure bolted through your body. Slow teasing circles were drawn over your clit until you ached for more. Two fingers parted your folds to allow your middle finger to dip in.

You sunk lower into the water, chin rippling the surface, and let your eyes fall shut to embrace your own touch while imagining it was someone else's.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

When you slipped out of the bath, satisfied, you redressed into a new robe. The loose low neck reached your abdomen, teasing the inner valley of your breasts.

As you made your way to your room, you noticed the door was left slightly ajar. When you pushed open the door, you found John standing at your bookshelf, his fingers running down the spine of a tome.

He was in a fresh set of clothes, loaned from a butler by the looks of it. The untucked, white dress shirt clung to the curves of his muscles, growing taut when he folded his arms. The black pants fit his form enough to show off the thickness of his thighs.

You shut the door and leaned against it, eyeing his form. The ache between your legs was growing again, wanting more than just your fingers this time.

John turned around at the noise and you could see the buttons of his shirt were halfway done, revealing his toned chest with a smattering of hair.

“Impressive collection,” he remarked. “I’d expect no less from a wizard.”

“I spent my entire life building this collection,” you replied absently. Your mind was wandering to other things—the veins on his arms, the bulge of his pectorals in the shirt. You were unashamedly staring through lowered eyelids, greedily taking in the sight.

He was just as interested in your low cut robes. It was obvious in the way his eyes roamed your chest.

You chose to close the gap until you were beside the bookcase, just a foot away from his side.

He leaned his shoulder against the shelves and looked at you with a sly smirk. “Trying to charm me?”

Magic would make your game too easy.

Your hand moved to caress his jaw, smoothing over the soft hairs of his beard. He didn't move away, choosing to lean further into your touch.

“I don't need to,” you hummed. Your fingers clawed up the slope of his neck and into the short strands of damp hair, drawing his face closer. “You're already mine.”

“That so?” His words fluttered along your lips in warm breaths. Strong hands fell to the curves of your waist, smoothing down to your ass and pulling you against his front.

You felt the growing stiffness of his cock, trapped in his pants, press against your abdomen which only made the throbbing of your cunt worse. Instead of responding, you leaned forward and sealed your lips tightly against his, tasting smoke and bitter ale on his tongue.

John was quick to respond, swiping his tongue over your bottom lip to get you to open up for him. His grip slid down your ass, roughly squeezing the soft flesh in his large palms.

You rubbed yourself against his bulge, trying to satisfy the need growing inside of you. There was a needy, animalistic frenzy in his low groan, vibrating in his chest.

He backed you up towards your desk. It was cluttered with more tomes you amassed over the years, threatening to spill at the slightest touch. Your prized spell book, a gift from your father, was also sitting open, flipped to the enchantment spell you used earlier at the tavern.

John didn't seem to care much for your precious collection as he swiped the books off your desk to make room to set you down. They scattered to the floor.

You pulled away, intent on telling him off. That spell book was one of a kind—

He didn't give you room to argue, much less breathe. His lips were already diving forward to capture yours again, dizzying you, driving any thought out of your head. Your legs spread around his to accommodate his body as he forced your attention back on him.

John’s hands pushed aside the fabric of your robe which easily fell around your waist, exposing your bare breasts to the cool room air. Your hardening nipples rubbed against the coarse fabric of his shirt.

Your hands roamed his chest in turn, running over the coarse hairs and clawing down his exposed sternum. You worked quickly to unbutton the rest of his shirt and pushed it off his broad shoulders.

Once revealed, you trailed your eyes over his chest and down to a nasty scar sliced from his upper torso across his stomach. It was old by the scaring. You briefly wondered if it was the reason he was no longer a knight as your hand reached out to brush over it.

John caught your wrist in an iron grip. When you looked back at his face, his stern expression told you enough to stay silent about it. With your short nod, the tension in the air lifted and he was back to work on you.

Another night then, you thought. You'd unravel his secrets eventually.

When he released your wrist and pulled away, he moved down to his knees, untying the knot at your waist and pushing aside the rest of the fabric to reveal the rest of your body. With your thighs spread, he could fit his hand between your thighs, feeling the arousal leaking from your cunt.

“So wet already?”

His middle finger parted your folds, dipping in ever so slightly, causing your hips to shift forward, but he pulled away before you could feel him any deeper. He got to his knees, grunting as his settled.

Your legs hooked over his shoulders, leaving him face to face with your cunt. His heavy breath fanned over your exposed cunt.

“What a sight,” he muttered to himself before leaning in to flick his tongue over your clit again and again.

Your body trembled with static after every stroke of his tongue. Your fingers locked through his brown hair, tugging sharply at the roots. He hissed through his teeth at the sting, but even that didn't stop him.

His hands gripped your thighs around his shoulders, digging into the soft flesh and then smoothing up until his hands cupped your ass to push you further into his mouth.

One of your hands rested on the table to give yourself leverage as you rode his face. The hair of his beard burned against your inner thigh.

The pleasure thruming through your veins forced your legs to lock around his head as your orgasm came to its peak.

“That's it,” he coaxed. “Come in my fuckin’ mouth, love.”

John kept his mouth on your fluttering cunt, refusing to pull away until he had taken every last drop of your cum. Your hands weakly pulled on his hair, but his fingers dug deeper into your thighs as he forced his head back in.

“Gods,” you panted, looking down at him between your thighs, devouring you like a starved man. “Fuck me already.”

“Patience,” he huffed, flicking his tongue languidly over your clit once again. Your body stiffened again. “You think you can take me after one little orgasm?”

As you clenched around nothing and his tongue continued to take long strokes over your cunt, you rolled your eyes and snapped back, “Don’t be so cocky.”

He rose quickly after your remark, yanking your body off the desk as he went and forcing you around. One of his palms met the back of your neck and pushed you flat against the desk. His cock pressed against your ass. The fabric of his pants were rough against your bare skin.

“Let-"

His other hand clamped over your mouth and he growled into your ear, “No—no more orders. I'll give you what you want, but don't start cryin’ when it doesn't fit.”

You ached, wanting to rub your thighs together but his legs were in the way. His hand moved from your mouth to the button of his pants to pull himself free.

You could feel his thick cock press against your ass. Even without looking, you could tell he was nothing like the other wizards you'd have meaningless flings with in school.

His cock notched at your entrance and he asked lowly, “Ready, love?”

The hand over your mouth moved to caress the valley of your knuckles as your hand clasped the edge of the desk. Such an intimate gesture you almost wanted to embrace by turning over your hand and intertwining fingers.

But, you didn't have time for much thought before he buried himself into you as deep as he could go without resistance. Which was only the tip of his cock.

Your walls clamped around him, refusing to let him bully his way deeper. You whimpered, white-knuckling the desk, and shut your eyes. Gods, he was too thick.

“Shh,” he cooed in your ear. His fingers slid across your temple and into your hair, keeping your head against the desk. “You wanted this, right? You can take more.”

And he did give you more—and more, and more. Your clawed at the desk, welled up tears spilling down the side of your face, as he stretched you around his cock. You didn't breathe, not until his hips met your ass and you were completely filled to the brim.

You gasped, filling your lungs with air. The edge of the desk pressing against your abdomen allowed you to feel him deeper.

He grunted as you clenched around his length. “So fuckin’ tight,” he muttered to himself as he slowly rocked into your fluttering heat.

The friction wasn't enough for you. As always, you wanted more. You wanted to be fucked, ravished, devoured completely and thrown into a sickening rapture.

“More,” you moaned as his cocked dragged against your walls. You were needy and hungry for him to take you harder.

“Does a brat like you even know how to say please?” He slipped out of you completely instead.

You whined in protest, moving your hips back to fill the empty ache he left behind. His hands moved to grip your waist, holding you in place. “No, don't.”

“Too good to beg for it?” His fingers prodded at your entrance before he slipped two inside. They weren't comparable to his cock though—not as thick, not as full. “Come on my fingers then.”

His fingers curled against the sensitive spongey spot inside of you.

“F-Fuck you,” you ground out between your teeth, biting back a moan.

“That’s not what I asked for.” His voice was stern; there was no room for arguments, no room for demands other than his own.

You bit your lip. You weren't the one who was supposed to be begging—he was. Having John wrapped around your finger, desperate to please you like everyone else, was the end goal. But this?

Strong, commanding, taking what he wants—that was who John was. And even you couldn't help but relent to that dominance.

“Please.”

“Speak up, love.” You could hear the smirk in his voice.

Bastard.

“Please,” you repeated with a little more desperation than intended.

“Good girl,” he praised. His fingers slipped from you, pulling a string of your arousal with them, and he licked them clean. With his hands back on your hips, he lined up his cock and thrust back into you.

Your mouth hung open as your back arched into the desk. The pace he set was relentless. It rocked your desk, sending any books and papers left on it to the floor. But you didn't care anymore, not when he found that perfect spot inside you again and again. Your toes curled as warmth pooled in your stomach and your core tightened.

A hand wrapped around your neck once again, wrenching your back against his chest and forcing your head to the side. The sweat of your bodies melded you together. John’s fingers pressed on your throat with enough pressure to make you see stars. His gruff pants burst along the shell of your ear. His lips grazed the back of your neck as another hand moved to toy with your clit.

You cursed as your body seized up and you came around him. You held onto the arm pressed against your chest as you rode out your orgasm.

With a few more sharp thrusts, he spilled inside of you, flooding you with warmth. As you caught your breaths, he cupped your jaw and turned your head towards his to pull you into a searing kiss, still full of passion just like the first.

You were almost boneless, sinking into the kiss and his arms. “Bed,” you murmured, resting your head against his shoulder when he released your jaw. “Now.”

John clicked his tongue as he slid out of you. A mix of your arousal begin to leak down your leg. You flinched when his hand cupped your sex to stop anymore from escaping.

The action felt more possessive than anything else—something you weren't used to. Interest stirred in you once again.

#john price x reader #john price smut #cod smut #cod x reader smut #cod fanfic #cod x reader #john price fanfiction #mw2 fanfic #captain john price #cod mwii

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thoughtsfromlayla · 7 months

Text

Love and Loss

Summary: Despite being married for centuries, the two lovers have yet to produce an heir. Desperate for a child, she makes a deal with Phanes, God of Life, unbeknownst to her that motherhood has its own complications much like love and marriage. Now she must find a way to save both her child and her love.

Notes: ~11k words, only lightly edited... so yeah. Also, this is my first time posting any of my writing so I'm nervous as fuuuuck. I keep switching between past and present tense but I think I caught them all but idk. Let me know if I miss any tags or warnings! (There's so many plot holes but shhhh)

Warnings: MDNI - 18+ content, one use of Y/N but written in 3rd person, Reader has a "name" that's only used twice, pregnancy, loss of pregnancy, metaphorical use of surrogation, usage of miscarriage themes, jealousy, P in V, oral (F! receiving), unprotected sex, jealous Dream but that's to be expected really, regency-esque, diverges from cannon

Main Masterlist || Series Masterlist

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Despite having been in the Dreaming for so long, its frigid air was something she could never get used to. The temperature always fixed itself somewhere between an unheated house on a winter’s day and a spring day in the shade. Despite her title in the realm, she always felt like a child walking to the kitchen late at night to grab a snack whenever she meanders into the great hall.

The castle of the Dreaming was her home, and she was the owner in every right as her husband. A small black cat accompanies her, its green collar and bell jingle with each step in its preppy trot. Her Lady wore simple garments, a dark green dress with slits to match her feline friend. Its light-weight fabric billows around her with a breeze that never seems to stop and some golden jewelry decorated her neck and arms, all gifts from his Lord. She opted to walk barefoot, skin to soil, so as not to hurt her feet necessarily before the upcoming dinner the Dreaming would host later today—the idea her own entirely that her husband agreed to for her sake.

Her legs move her toward the throne room, where she is certain her husband presides. Still, her feet are cold and thus she picks up the pace. Her steps are lighthearted as she prances on her tiptoes, heels dangling from her fingers.

Lord Morpheus, Dream of the Endless, King of the Nightmare Realms, Prince of Stories. She was sure there were more, but if she were to start listing them all in her head, she’d be stuck there all day. Morpheus was as old as humanity itself, perhaps even older. But as she sees him spread out on his throne, the air of authority is never questioned. Age has only made him more intimidating.

Morpheus commands any space he enters. His shadow fills each nook and cranny it seemed fit, aura chilling and distant. Yet he himself was a beautiful creature indeed. His modern form molded himself into a lean body, distinct muscle lines, and a strong jaw. His dark hair always looked tousled as if he had rolled out of bed a mere minute ago, and despite how often she would run her hair through the silky strands, they never behaved as they should have.

“Wife, mine,” Morpheus greets as she nears the bottom of the stairs. “What ails you to seek me out?”

The Lady smiles and gives a small curtsy before she ascends the curved stairs. “Nothing ails me, my lord. Must one have a reason to see her husband?”

Morpheus lets out an entertained breath before opening his arms in invitation. Another graceful smile appears on her lips as she sits comfortably in his lap, his arms encircling her.

“No, I suppose not,” He replies. He watches as she makes herself as comfortable as she can, leaning her head on his shoulder in a way that wouldn’t mess up her hair. The handmaidens would not stop fussing over it if a single strand was out of place from their original design.

“I simply wish to spend some time with you before our feast. I fear that I will be whisked away as I entertain guests for the evening.” She closes her eyes and steadies herself on the patterned breathing of her husband.

“I will stay by your side if you so command it,” Morpheus says. He runs his thumb in circles on her bare shoulder.

“And have everyone afraid to approach me? With your dark and brooding act?” She jests, her eyes opening briefly to look into his.

He can’t help his eyes rolling at her slight tease. “As you wish, my love.”

The two lovers sit for a moment. The sounds of her cat purring and their breaths mingling fill the air. But serenity such as this never lasts long in a castle like theirs. Lucienne comes from a hallway, presumably, the library’s, dressed up as well. Her coat was tailored to fit her body, her shoes freshly shined, and her glasses cleaned.

She gives a curt bow to the two sovereigns. “My lord, my lady,” She addresses. “The guests will be arriving soon.”

“Thank you, Lucienne,” Her lady says. She reluctantly releases herself from the warmth of her husband and uses the throne as a brace to put on her shoes. Her husband’s hand rests on the small of her back to further assist her.

“I will see you very soon, my king,” She says leaning down to peck his cheek before descending the stairs. She looks back once with another smile and then follows Lucienne to greet the arriving guests.

Morpheus’s eyes watch her figure until she turns a corner. He was still underdressed, his day previously preoccupied with trying to find a certain nightmare. He was simply idling on his throne in a simple black attire with his long coat. After all, a king need not worry about how he looks if he commands respect without golden bribes. With a wave of his hand, sand befalls him and covers him like ivy to a broken wall. When they recede he is dawning a tight button-up undershirt and vest, its fabric weaved with intrinsic cloud-like designs. His coat is now replaced with another of a similar shape and design but resembles cotton instead of the original felt. He fastens the raven cufflinks and smooths down his pants before rising from his throne and going to the Dreaming’s castle garden.

When Morpheus enters the gardens he immediately spots his wife at the entrance, standing underneath a pergola of purple wisterias and climbing hydrangeas. The flowers slowly lean towards the goddess as her presence fuels them by simple proximity. Her cat is nowhere to be seen and probably ran off into the gardens after a rodent caught his eye.

Morpheus slides up beside his wife as she greets the last of the guests arriving. He turns his head towards the decorated table and can see a great spread of gods, goddesses, fairies, nymphs, and other mystical creatures that his wife had managed to befriend—the feeling of her arm wrapping around his redirects his attention.

“Shall we, lord husband?” She gives him another one of her smiles and he understands how the hanging flowers feel. How he had ever lived without her before was still a mystery to him. To be him without her, it is like the Earth without its Sun - and he wishes to always feel the gravitational pull of her love.

Morpheus leads them towards the aggregation of guests, all of whom devote their attention to them.

“Beloved guests,” His wife starts speaking in her nectar-like tone, “Despite what is currently happening in the waking world, we are pleased that you could make time and attend this wondrous dinner.”

The goddess pauses for a brief moment as her guests clap in agreement. When they stop, she continues. “The feast is served buffet style, please eat and enjoy yourself to the fullest content. The Dreaming is here for your convenience.”

With her open palm, a long table appears with dishes of all types. Wreaths and fresh flowers decorate any empty space, which is to say, not much. Lambs, beef, and several types of poultry and fish take centerpieces along the table. Fruits, vegetables, and freshly baked bread weave in between the large plates as palate cleansers and small plates appear on the very corners of the table. A satisfied smile appeared on Her Lady’s face as the guests began grabbing food.

As the dust settles and smaller niches of guests start grouping, Morpheus is displeased when his wife leaves his side to mingle amongst the other gods. He watches from the shadows, small fruit plate in hand, glooming as she smiles with her guests. A hand comes up to hide her mouth as she laughs at something Phanes, God of Life, said. Jealousy brews and grows bitter like spoiled milk.

Morpheus stands, ready to come to his wife’s side in hopes of deterring the god, but before he can a nymph comes forward and gives an exaggerated curtsy. He can’t help the slight roll of his eyes as she begins to talk him up. The nymph’s voice carries a small lithe to it and he becomes unfocused, only noticing the movement of his wife’s green dress and Phanes walking off into the hedge labyrinth.

A frown etches itself onto his face. The nymph choosing to ignore the frown finds the courage to lift a mossy hand to caress his coat’s lapel, to which the Endless notices. Morpheus looks down at the nymph, his hand tightly grabbing into her wrist and dropping it away from him.

“Do not presume you may touch me, insolent child.” His voice is deep and grave as his frown deepens.

The nymph’s face contorted into embarrassment as red poppies boom across her cheeks and ears. She briskly walks away, forgetting to curtsy, with her tail tucked between her legs. The forest nymph looks forward to the next time she meets the Dream King, but she does not know that this will be the last time the doors of the Dreaming will open to her.

Dream makes a beeline towards the hedge labyrinth, taking a right turn as he had witnessed his wife doing moments ago. But, as something as lucid as the Dreaming, the labyrinth path twists and turns in new ways each moment. Morpheus turns left and right based on where he could feel his wife’s presence, but seems that she does not want to be found.

As a deity in her own right, should she so command it, she would not be found. Something that the Endless found infuriating at the moment. What could she possibly be doing with Phanes? Did she invite him for a personal reason? Was the dinner event a ruse so she could speak with him without raising any questions? Well, Morpheus surely was starting to ask questions.

Jealously turned into guilt quickly like the crack of a lightning bolt. Has he not been a good husband? Was she getting bored of their marriage? It has been several centuries, after all. Guilt turned into sadness as the questions he asked started bringing down his spirit. Surely there is something he can do to make her happy again. Surely she is faithful, surely, surely, surely…

Morpheus stands still, the drive to find his wife lost. The hedge leaves shiver as the temperature grows colder from the king’s mood. The lovely sunset leaves the last of its warmth before disappearing, leaving the sky full of stars. He turns around and retraces his steps, if his wife does not want to be found, he will grant her this wish.

Morpheus would never admit to anyone that he mopes. But with his sluggish walk and downturned lips, he clearly was. He sees his wife had made it out of the labyrinth quite some time ago and is already waving her guests goodbye, Phanes nowhere in sight. When she sees him emerging from the hedges, she perks up and excuses herself from her conversation.

“Dear husband, where did you run off to? Too many people in your presence?” She jokes, latching herself onto his arm.

“I was merely looking for you,” Morpheous murmurs. He starts walking with her back to the castle.

He waits as his wife takes a pause, slowing down in step. “You followed me into the labyrinths?”

He wasn’t sure what he was expecting her to say, but it certainly wasn’t that.

“Yes…” He draws out, trying to tread lightly, hoping that she would open up without much prompting. “I saw you and Phanes entering together.”

An amused huff escapes her. “I see.”

The silence lingers like the plague: uncomfortable and heavy in the air.

“Will you not speak as to why?” He questions and he almost hates how desperate he sounds.

The lady takes a seat on his throne, only to lean down and take off her shoes with a satisfied sigh. She rubs the ankles of her foot when she speaks again. “I believe it to be a personal matter.”

The answer was vague, and Morpheous hated it. Angry, gray storm clouds formed overhead and the ice-cold rain started to hit the stained glass behind her.

“Am I not worth sharing with?” He asks again, but he doesn’t stop to let her answer. With her eyes wide in surprise, he continues. “Am I not good enough? Faithful enough? Am I not devoted enough to you, my love? Will you command me to beg on my knees, I shall if you so ask.”

He falls to his knees before her and runs his hands from her ankle to her knee, slowly, deliberately. His lips follow soon after, tracing the same path his fingers had. Her breath hitches and her hearts start beating faster.

“How can I show my devotion to you, my love?” He kisses.

“My wife?” He kisses again.

“My forever goddess?” And again.

“Morpheus,” She breathes out, and it’s all he ever wants to hear. She is all he ever wants to breathe and all he wants to taste.

“I pray to Daleena, Goddess of Husbandry, for forgiveness. I have left my wife unsatisfied and feel the crop of our love withered. I shall repent for my sins by your guidance.” Morpheus says in a hushed tone as he slowly inches higher on her leg.

The goddess feels power surge through her as the prayer leaves her husband's lips, and she craves the touch of them on her own. Heat pools between her legs as her husband’s breath fans across her lower regions. Her dress slits exposed her legs deliciously to Morpheous but there were still her undergarments, which he removed slowly, keeping contact with her silky skin as it slid down.

Her Lady looks down at him with uneven breaths and waits for him to give her what she wants. Morpheus, however, is patient. He traces his lips higher, he kisses all the spots she wants, but not where she needs it the most.

“Morpheus,” She pleads, and it is all he needs. One moment it is the cold air of the Dreaming and the next it is the warmth of his lips, tongue languishing the length of her slit.

She jerks in place, strong hands holding down her hips. Her own hands shoot out, desperate to grab onto anything. One, bear-clawed and desperate, on the arm of the throne and the other weaving itself into the silky strands of her husband. She gasps at the wet sensation and her head is thrown back in pleasure.

The Endless is unmovable, driven solely by the purpose of satisfying his wife. A low groan emits from deep in his throat at the unapologetic sounds she cries, babbling in a series of his name and other obscenities. He tilts his head higher until he finds her clit and relishes in the pain of her nails in his hair, lapping at her arousal with contentment until it drips down his chin. He is a starved man and she is his salvation.

Morpheus continues his demonstrations, alternating between her clit and her needy cunt. She clenches her thighs hard as she feels the impending rise of her orgasm. Her fingertips buzz with excitement as he continues to ravish her sensitive clit. His pace continues, and her eyes roll to the back of her head.

She calls out his name again, and a high-pitched whine leaves her lips as he easily adds two digits into her weeping hole. He moves them slowly, slightly curved to touch that delicious spot inside her that has her arching her back taught like a bow. From below, Morpheus looks at her through his lashes, and he can’t help the smirk that tugs on his lips as his wife tries to thrash from the sensations. She tightens around him, cunt pulsing sporadically, and he is flooded with her orgasm where he drinks greedily from the taste - sweet like a plentiful summer wine.

He places a final gentle kiss on her clit before looking at her again, the skin of her extremities glowing ethereally as she tries to control her ragged breaths. She is still in the midst of her orgasm, trying to calm herself from the high and he finds it the perfect time to leave a bruising hickey on the inside of her plush thighs. Morpheus gets up, dick painfully hard as it brushes against his pants. He takes hold of her hands to help her stand on wobbly legs and leans back.

He leans until he falls, through the throne room floor and then onto the plushness of their shared bed. His command dematerializes both of their clothes and he basks in the sticky warmth of his wife on top of him. He runs light fingers down her spine, shivers following behind like a loyal companion, whispering sweet nothings into her ears.

“Come back to me,” He murmurs, kissing her sweat-filled brow.

“Hmm,” The goddess exhales after a few more seconds of silence, eyes opening languishingly, lashes tickling the skin of her husband.

She looks around the dimly lit room for a moment before realizing that she is in their bed. Using her husband’s chest, she props herself up, effectively straddling him beneath her. Morpheus remains unmoving, ignoring the way his tip brushes against her lower lips, only messaging the meat of her hips with his thumb.

When she meets his eyes again, he speaks. “Have I proven myself, dear wife?”

It takes a moment for the goddess to remember what he was talking about and her feelings crash down again. “You had never needed to prove yourself to me, Morpheus. What happened between me and Phanes will remain between me and Phanes.”

She lifts herself on sore thighs, but can’t get far as gentle hands turn rough. The next moment, she is lying down with her husband looming over her. There was not enough light to illuminate his face, leaving only the impression of his merciless, mercury eyes. Deep down, she knows no harm will ever befall her, but in this moment, something primal presents itself.

Perhaps it is how his eyes bore into her very soul, to the very moment she was born several millennia ago. Or perhaps, she was just crazy about how his touch was driving her mad. She was very aware of the appendage that settled between the two of them and the way that her slick was coating it. His hands cup her cheek and slide down her neck and her head tilts back at the ticklish and yet pleasurable sensation. She swallows thickly and a broken sigh escapes her as his hand ghosts over her nipple.

Shivers bloom once more as his mouth incloses over the perk nipple, suckling at it in a way that has her legs wrapping around his waist. Her arms come up and snake over his shoulders, fingers gliding over the smooth marble-like skin, then resting behind his neck. One of her hands finds itself back into his hair, clenching as he gives continuous pleasure to her body.

Her hips buck up, her pussy clenching down on nothing. Cold fingers glide down the center of her stomach, going lower and lower until they cup her heat. A thumb gently circles her clit, understanding the overstimulation it recently received. They trace over her outer lips, downwards, then upwards again, coating themselves with a mixture of spit and arousal.

Morpheus removes himself from her breasts and presses his lips at the junction between her neck and shoulder. He licks at the sweat that accumulates on her collarbone and continues up her neck. When he faces her again, he speaks.

“Beg for it.” He commands.

Her Lady remains silent, slowly chewing on the inside of her lip, weighing the options in her head. Morpheus, as always, is patient and he continues running his fingers between her folds, keeping his pace but occasionally rubbing his pointer finger in circles around her clit. When she realizes that he really would just keep rubbing her and nothing else, she opens her mouth.

“P-please,” She stutters, the mere idea of begging or pleading foreign on her tongue. As a goddess, one would never allow such lowly behavior. Nevertheless how her husband will give her whatever she asks for.

Morpheus hums in approval, removing his hand to hold his dick instead. He rubs it this time in lieu of his fingers around her cunt and the goddess almost begs again. Before she can, a moan releases from both of them as he inserts himself into her and she whimpers at the familiar dull ache of being stretched out. Morpheus dips his head between her neck and shoulder again and remains stiff, feeling the warmth that only his wife can provide.

He pulls out and she mews beneath him in pleasure, ushering him to fill her up once again. Her cunt sucks him back and he wraps one of his arms underneath her waist to ground him. The other slams against the headboard of the bed, and he grabs on for all he is worth. His thrusts grow harder as her cries grow louder and he feels the way she clenches down on him.

“How divine you are, my love,” He says with a shaky breath, kissing more bruising hickeys that he hopes will last for millennia. He blows cold air over them and goosebumps rise in place, her back arching again and he can feel each perk nipple rubbing against his chest.

She moans his name again, losing herself in each drag of his cock, screaming curses when the head brushes against her sensitive spot, and whimpering when it kisses her cervix. Morpheus rises, looking down on his wife with half-lidded eyes, running a hand down between the valley of her breasts, feeling each desperate breath of air. He goes lower and groans when he sees how the two of them are connected.

Each thrust creates an unholy, slick noise and he can see the inflamed clit begging for attention. He presses his fingers on her lower stomach and she cries out for him.

“Can you feel me, my Queen?” He growls down at her, feeling the way his dick moves within her.

“Yes!” She cries back, her brows furrow and her cunt pulses around him, gripping him like a vice.

“Do you love me, my Queen?” He asks again.

“Yes!” She cries again. She starts begging again. Please, please, please, please. “Don’t stop, please my King. Please, don’t stop!”

“Will you tell me why you spoke with Phanes?” His last question.

Her eyes snap open, all the build up from her orgasm lost in the question. With her legs still around his waist, she twists her hips and topples Morpheus over until he is beneath her again.

“No,” She whispers, rocking her hips back and forth to regain the momentum they had lost.

This time, it is him who pleads. “Please,” He whispers back. His hands cup at the roundness of her ass cheeks, loving how soft they were.

She increases the ferocity of her grinds, looking down at her husband like he had just done with her. His head tosses back and she loves watching his Adam’s apple slide up and down his throat as he moans for her. His eyes are squeezed shut and his grip tightens but she doesn’t relent.

That familiar searing hot feeling appears again in her lower stomach and with one final grind she releases her orgasm all over him, falling onto his heaving chest. Morpheus cums right after, shooting his release into her in hot loads and she feels each jolt inside of her.

Her orgasm rocks through her body, feeling both too hot and too cold at the same time. It tingles in her fingers and toes and when she closes her eyes, she sees the stars of the Dreaming shinging back at her. When she comes back to her senses (again) she can feel her husband’s hand running through her bed hair, untangling it as much as he could with the one hand. The other hand holds her waist flush with his. The two lovers share a quiet moment after their throw of passion before she speaks again.

“Phanes and I…” She starts, and she can feel Morpheus stiffen under her. She groans as his cock is still deep in her, semi-hard and the only thing keeping them together.

She shifts a bit and some of their combined release pool down onto his abdomen. He would never admit to her how filthy he thought it was, nor the fact that he loved it all the same.

“Yes?” Morpheus urges, looking down at her on his chest with full attention.

“We made a deal.” She finishes her sentence.

Everything stops as Morpheus sits up. “What deal did you strike? I can do it instead, terminate the deal at once, my love.” He says with anxiety.

His wife grabs onto him as she is rocked back and a smile appears on her face. “Morpheus, my love, you have done your part.” Her smile turns sad and a forlorn look cloaks her face and she casts her gaze downwards. “We just needed some extra help.”

A confused look crosses Morpheus’s face. He brings a hand to lift her chin to look at him. With the raise of an eyebrow, he doesn’t have to say anything for his wife to know he wants a better explanation.

“I asked for a child, Morpheus.”

When her husband remains quiet, her lips start to tug downwards and his heart lurches at the sight. Her waterline soon floods with tears.

“We have not been able to produce an heir once.” She says, voice wavering. She dares not to blink for she is afraid if a single tear were to fall, all of them would.

“What in return?” He asks.

“I look after his pet snake for a weekend.” She replies simply. Morpheus has returned to his previous position.

The tears start to fall, each fat drop hitting his skin seemingly striking him directly in the heart. “You need not worry, wife. This time it will take, with Phanes’s help or not.” He whispers into the crown of her head.

She nods once, sniffling as her nose starts to run, too. The rhythmic breathing below her and the continued brushing of her hair rocks her to a dreamless sleep. Morpheus wraps his arms protectively around her frame and should he have known, he would’ve stayed longer. He would’ve held her tighter, kissed her longer, and promised her that he would be there when she woke. Alas, there was a missing nightmare, rampaging through the waking world, something that was his responsibility as king.

When she wakes up the next morning, with a satisfying ache throughout her body, the bed was cold and empty, and her husband was nowhere to be seen. To say that this was new behavior would be a lie, unfortunately. The number of times that a night of passionate love-making ended in a cold and lonely morning was more than she could count on her fingers and toes. That isn’t to say that Morpheus didn’t want to stay in bed with her, it’s simply a sovereign that understands his responsibilities, and she could never blame her husband for that.

Avoiding the difficult conversation the two lovers shared last night, her Lady avoids the locations her husband is most likely to reside in. Instead, she chooses to look towards her duties in the Dreaming. She finds herself amongst a simple dream from a small farmer who looks after sheep, who struggles with getting their weight to increase during the harsh winters. Carefully, she admits herself to him, dressed in a light yellow dress, sunflowers decorating the fabric and her hair. Her hands were covered in dirt, and she held a shepherd’s crook that had a bell attached to the end.

The farmer looks up from his rocking chair, prized sheep chewing lazily around him, and smoke from his pipe circles him. His face was rough - old and wrinkled from long days in the sun during his youth. But she smiles gently at him when his laugh lines appear around the edges of his eyes and mouth.

She stands next to him and they stare out on his flock together. He shares his life story. The story of a young boy whose father was also a farmer, and his father before him, and his father before him. He talks about his first puppy, named Barkly, his first love, whom he lost after he was drafted into the First World War, and how he now finds solitude with his late wife’s grave and his grandchildren.

He mentions that he needs to fatten his sheep up for the winter as he can’t lose any more stock so he may afford medicine for his sick grandson. He confesses that he has tried everything and nothing seems to have worked. He looks up at her now, tired, and slumped over, and realization dawns on his face as she smiles down at him.

She whispers at him a simple solution, one he can’t quite hear over the muddle of a dream. He stands abruptly as her figure distorts, the dawn is rising and a farmer’s body rises with it. He thanks her - he offers a sheep for her, which she nods at before he wakes from his dream.

The goddess visits a few more dreams, each giving her ethereal presence. Some were like the one she was just at, some needed comfort from the loss of animals, and some dreamed of a new pet to have. By the 5th dream, she realizes that several days had passed in the waking world, and her husband was nowhere to be found.

She admits to herself that she had been avoiding him longer than she intends, but perhaps it was time to face him again. She teleports to the castle, summoning herself before the drawbridge of the magnificent building. The ivory dragon perks up at her arrival, but otherwise pays no attention to her, going back to hoarding its gold coins, a few of them falling when she crosses the large doors.

As always, the castle is slightly colder than what she likes. A small sense of deja vu encapsulates her as she walks to the all-familiar throne room. This time, however, it was empty. No figure on the throne, nor the stairs as he sometimes preferrs it. Odd, she thinks, but not impossible. So she turns a corner to the library, she often finds him here as well, looking over the books of his dreamers. She searches high and low, through each aisle and reading spot, but still nothing. Anxiety and thoughts of doubt begin to fill her. Perhaps she did mess up, making that deal with Phanes.

Her last stop was Cain and Able’s homes. She finds the two brothers in front of their own homes, tending to their garden and playing with the gargoyle that Morpheus had given them. The two were of no help as they were unable to answer something worthy of even a hint of where her husband was.

She rolls her eyes as the walk away from their homes was accompanied by the sound of a scream and the resolute bang of a metal shovel hitting a skull.

As her last resort, she calls for Lucienne. Often, she hopes to never bother her, understanding that the work she puts into maintaining the Dreaming is never-ending. And, she knew that if she were to ask something of her, Lucienne would stop everything to help her.

“His Lord left several nights ago to fetch the Corinthian,” She spoke, pushing up her round glasses.

“And since then?” She questions, her hands wringing with themselves. She hopes for an answer she knows she won’t get.

Lucienne shakes her head no. “My Lady, Jessamy hasn’t returned either. Perhaps his Lord is simply taking longer than usual.”

“Let us hope,” She says defeated.

For the next few months, the goddess stays within the Dreaming. Each day that passes, more hope was lost for her husband's return. Doubt and anxiety cloud her mind at the uncertain future.

She looks down at her stomach, a distinguishable bump had made its appearance and she rubs it gently with her hand. The deal with Phanes went through, she is with child. She should be happy right? Except for the obvious fact that Morpheus still had not returned.

Her cat lounges at her feet where she sits and she pets its head. With a trill, it looks at her, similar mercury eyes of her husband stares back. She had no choice but to find him herself.

“Go,” She asks of it. “Go to the waking world, find Morpheus.”

The cat sits up and stretches, hind high in the air. Its claws grips into the plush carpet it rests on. With another stretch to its lower back, it trots off, the jingling sounds of its bell disappearing as it crosses over to the waking world.

All the goddess could do was wait and hope. She runs another anxious hand across her stomach and a tear escapes her.

Lucienne had mentioned it to her in passing a few days ago. The librarian stated that it probably was nothing to worry about, but the conversation had stuck with the goddess since.

The Dreaming is dying.

As much as the Dreaming is hers through marriage, it is suffering without its true ruler in the realm. She could see it in the dying leaves and small cracks of the castle. The ivory dragon that rests above the castle has gotten more restless in the past few weeks. And despite her best efforts to comfort the animal, the dragon did not listen to the Goddess of Husbandry.

This brings up a second concern of hers. The child she carries is as much a part of her as it is the Dreaming’s. It embodies a part of the Dream Lord and if the Dreaming is suffering, there stands to reason that her husband is suffering as well. If both of these entities are suffering, what is to happen to her child?

This child that she already loves until she is forgotten and nothing but stardust and she had been asking for centuries. This child that Morpheus is finally ready to love after the untimely death of his son. She must find Morpheus, and soon.

For the sake of the Dreaming and her child.

Several more weeks pass and her cat had yet to come back. She only hopes that it was due to the difficulty of finding an Endless and not because it got distracted with a family whose heart was big enough to take in a “stray” cat. Each day that passes, she grows significantly weaker. The prayers of her followers still ring in her ears, but she could not leave the Dreaming to help her devotees.

Another war broke out among the humans, the one they call World War II. Less and fewer people were crossing over into the dreaming and slowly, the once beautiful realm was losing its colors. The goddess couldn’t stop the residents of the realm from leaving its gates, the Dreaming was no longer a place they wished to stay. Furthermore, there weren’t enough dreamers for them to bother staying. She only remains thankful for those who decided to stay.

She sits on Morpheus’ throne, the castle colder than ever. Behind her, the once beautiful stained glass had shattered. The Corinthian had still not been captured, or else her husband would have been home and Fiddler’s Green had decided to leave. She runs a hand through her hair at the issues that seem to keep piling up. As she ignores her prayers, her powers start to wane. Fewer and fewer people were still believing in her.

And how could she blame them? She hasn’t made herself present in any of their prayers and with the war, people were less concerned about animals and more about themselves. She sighs.

A sharp pain yanks her out of her thoughts and a scream rips from her throat. She doubles over from the throne and kneels, hunching over on the floor. The pain spreads across her lower abdomen and a shaking hand holds her stomach. Immediately she knew something was wrong and it involved the safety of her child.

For a moment, she couldn’t breathe, too focused on staying conscious. The throne room was empty, her fall echoed around and bounced across the wide walls. When she thought the pain was over, she took in a large breath, inhaling shakily in gulps.

Salvation lasts a few seconds before another wave of pain overwhelms her. It wraps around her like a hot blanket on a sweltering day, sticking to her skin and making her overstimulated. Too much was happening at once and it was almost too hard to bear.

“Lucienne!” She screams between cramps. Tears fall in fat drops onto the floor and wets the hand propping her up.

Lucienne appears quickly, followed closely by Mervin. Hands grab at her weak body and hoist her back onto the throne. Where she had fallen, blood pooled and more fell from between her legs.

Her whole body shakes with shivers and a whimper leaves her.

“My Lady,” Lucienne says with concern. The librarian couldn’t stop from staring at the growing pool of blood below her.

“What do we do?” Mervin asks. Even though he was a glorified janitor, constructor, and destructor for the Dreaming, he didn’t know how to fix this.

“Call for Phanes,” Their Lady said weakly. Sweat begins to appear like morning dew across her forehead. For once, she was grateful for the cool temperature.

“Mervin, take her to his Lord’s chambers,” Lucienne instructs. She doesn’t stay to watch as she sprints to the library.

She flips through leather-bound books, old and new until she finds the correct summoning spell she was looking for. The loyal librarian could only hope that a god would listen to a dream like her.

She hauls the large book into the room her Lady lays in. Labored breathing came from both women, although for two vastly different reasons.

“Forgive me, my lady, but I require your assistance,” Lucienne said next to the goddess’ bed.

The goddess gives her a hand limply and Lucienne starts chanting the words on the page while holding her cold fingers. The wind whirls around them and Mervin holds onto his pumpkin head to not have it knocked off.

Lucienne finishes the spell and looks down. Her Lady was glowing with power but she could not have looked any more weak. Nothing happens for a few bated breaths, only the sound of howling wind around them. Then nothing, not even the sound of crickets could be heard.

Enters Phanes, golden and warm like the sun. He materializes in a cloud of golden dust. He slams his staff down, and his golden snake slithers up from under his robes.

“Who dares summon m-”

“Lord Phanes,” Lucienne interrupts, something she knows she would be punished for, if not for the more important matter at hand.

A glare is thrown her way and softens at the familiar face. Phanes’ eyes travel across the intertwined fingers and land on his friend.

Weak eyes open and meet his. The godly figure is almost too much to stare directly at.

As if understanding what was happening to his friend, he drops the golden light he had been shining. The Dreaming returns to its cold blue, and it was just two deities and two dreams in understanding.

“A new deal,” Phanes announces and the goddess wants to weep again. Judging by how her husband acted the last time she had done this, she was going to be doomed. But the decision was easily made.

“Anything,” she whispers. Her eyelids are starting to feel heavy. She had delivered countless calves, kittens, and cubs, but never another deity. Was she supposed to feel this weak?

Silky scales slide across her feverish skin and she is face to face with Phanes’ serpent.

“Give your child to him, he will keep them safe until they may come to fruition. Until then, you must look after the serpent as if it is of your blood.”

The goddess could barely pay attention but understood in a way without words. She nods in agreement and the relief begins almost immediately.

Pain seeps out of her body, slow, like molasses and her body starts to glow again. Lucienne shields her eyes and peeks through her fingers. The goddess’ stomach glows and deflates.

A small glowing ball releases itself from the warmth of her womb, its dim light is warm and lights the room like a lantern on a foggy night. A weak hand cups it and it sits in the palm of its mother.

“Hello, darling son,” She whispers. The ball stays still, a small high-pitched noise emitting from itself.

The goddess smiles. “Darling daughter, then?” This time, the ball bounces gently a few times in response but otherwise doesn’t do anything.

The golden serpent is slowly making its way up the arm that holds the glowing orb. A tongue flicks out and smells it. Then with a nod from the goddess, the serpent unhinges its mouth and swallows the child whole. The light shines through the crevices of its eyes and ears as it makes its way down the serpent's throat. Eventually, the light dissipates and the serpent looks all the same, save for the bulge in its stomach.

A sense of longing borrows itself into her chest where her heart lies. Quite literally, the light disappears right in front of her. Physically, her pain had been removed, only the dried blood between her legs reminded her of what had happened just moments prior. And yet, a dull pain resides. Something she couldn’t put her finger on, but she could feel it behind her eyes and how it lodges in her throat.

Her gaze is unfocused as she pets the golden snake, her golden snake now, her child. For the rest of the night, she rests and Phanes leaves without a word. Lucienne stays by her side the whole time, eyes only moving when the serpent shifts. Mervin went back to work after a few hours, the castle’s foundation still cracking under their feet. He left with a sorrowful look, well, as sorrowful as a pumpkin head could be.

As the sun rises the next day, the goddess wakes up to not only the snake by her side but the librarian and her long awaited cat. Lucienne wakes up at the first shift that her Lady makes and stands.

“Let me draw you a bath,” She said before any debate.

“Lucienne,” Her Lady calls after her anyway in rejection. All of her handmaidens had left. They were only there to help the goddess under the instruction of the Dream Lord who created them. Without him here, no one would punish them for leaving and not attending his wife.

Still, the librarian doesn’t listen and disappears into the joined bathroom. Meanwhile, the goddess looks down at her cat and raises an eyebrow. It has certainly gotten fatter. And a new name tag was attached to his collar next to his bell.

“Buttons,” She said out loud, reading the new name. At that, the cat perks up and stares back at her disappointed face. “You got distracted on your mission didn’t you?”

She pets his rounder stomach and scratches his head. “Well, they certainly loved you…” The hidden passive-aggressive message was evident.

The cat, now Buttons, doesn’t bother with a response. Instead, it lays back down, flicking its tail aggressively at her comment.

She rolls her eyes. “Did you locate his Lord?”

Buttons rolls onto his back and stretches, belly exposing to her, and opens his mouth in a yawn. “Burgess Manor,” He says and turns his body away from her.

Finally, an answer. She throws the blanket off her body and goes to stand. She looks at her closet, thinking of what to wear to the waking world to retrieve her husband.

“My Lady!” Lucienne exclaims as she walks out of the bathroom. The goddess looks over at her and notices her staring at her dress. She looks down as well and remembers all of the blood that she spilled last night. It had caked itself into the fabric and was still crusted on the inside of her legs.

The librarian’s shock was still on her face when she realizes that her Lady fully intends to go to the waking world looking like that, having overheard the conversation between her and the cat. Lucienne insists she take a bath first and that she would find something for her to wear.

Her Lady doesn’t disagree and disappears into the steaming bathtub that was made for her. She doesn’t regret it for a second the moment she steps in. The warmth was comforting like a mother huddling to keep its cub warm. The water washes away the filths of yesterday and within the embrace of the water, she finally cries.

It’s not a gentle cry, it is hiccups and gasping for breath. The pain of yesterday that she felt behind her eyes and in her throat spills out. Her bathwater which used to smell of apples and cinnamon now turns into a maroon as her blood washes out. It starts to smell of iron and salt and it reminds her of war.

Her hand runs over her stomach and a whimper leaves her again at the lack of the bump she had grown so accustomed to. Logically, she knows that her child, no her daughter, was safe. But, one would have to admit that having their daughter in the stomach of a serpent was a bit unnerving.

A golden head peaks at her over the side of the ceramic bathtub and flicks out its tongue.

She sniffs the last of her tears away and pets its head with her index finger. “I’m sorry for leaving you already, dear daughter.”

The serpent’s stomach had grown twice as large since last night and since this is new territory for her, she must make haste so she may be back in the dream to witness the birth of her daughter.

Before she left, though, she walks into the castle gardens and gets to work. From her fingertips she grows a birch tree, its white branches and muted green leaves fit right into the dying realm around them. She sprouts flowers and brushes for scenery and a bed made of straw under a tunnel that she dug out.

The golden serpent follows her and slithers up her body, wrapping around her curves. When its head was next to hers, it let out a rattling-like noise in agreement with the small open enclosure the goddess had made for it. It slides back down her body and makes it home in the tunnel.

“Mommy will be back,” She whispers to it when it settles in and gives it a quick peck on the top of its head. It flicks its tongue at her and moves further into its nest.

The goddess stands back up and dusts off any dirt that could have gotten on her dress. Lucienne helps her pick out an appropriate attire for the waking world. Something she wouldn’t personally wear, but it certainly helps to blend in with the mortals. She quickly had to locate her husband. After all, she has no idea how long it takes for a snake to incubate a child.

It was easy to find the Burgess Manor when she arrives in the waking world. Everyone who was anyone spoke about the grand magus who managed to capture the devil in his basement. That the devil had granted him eternal life and some other rumors. All she had to do was flaunt a smile and go where the fingers pointed.

The rumors, of course, were mere rumors. The devil? No. Without knowing it, Rodrick Burgess managed to capture something even more powerful. How he had managed to keep him captured was a different question entirely and the goddess had a sneaking suspicion that he had some help.

It was nightfall when she arrives at the gates of the manor. Thousands of people clamor in the front garden, talking amongst themselves. Suddenly, the clothing she had worn was not fit for the environment she was walking into. Using a little bit of her powers, she changes the outlook of her clothing into something else. It was a bit more formal, growing longer and softer to the touch. However, if someone were to squint and stare hard enough, they would be able to see the original dress she had worn.

She weaves her way to the front and listens carefully to the words around her.

“I had arrived this morning, my feet are killing me.”

“Ha, me as well. But anything to get into the manor. I want to see what the Great Magus is hiding.”

“Not to mention the party of your lifetime!” They joke together.

Someone taps her on her shoulder. Another young man was waiting to be let in.

“You are a new face,” He comments and takes her hand. He presses his lips to the back of it. She takes her hand back and wipes it away on the back of her dress while keeping a smile.

“Yes, I wish to see the Great Magus himself.” She half-lies through her teeth. The young gentleman offers an arm to her which she reluctantly takes. Perhaps he will be the key to getting into the manor.

The doors of the manor open and people slowly trickle in. She peers over shoulders into the manor but couldn’t immediately find anything of note that would be dangerous. The warmth of the building fans over her as she enters through the large doors and a breath of relief escapes her.

“Isn’t it everything you could ever dream of?” The gentleman asks. He looks down at her with a smile.

She looks around, the manor was certainly lively. Foods of all kinds sprawl out on tables, fresh flowers almost too sweet to smell, and candlelight flickers and dances from the sudden wind. There were some party tricks as well, the flames seem to sparkle a bit more, bubbles were floating around in the air without popping, and the statues follows her with their eyes. But, they were all small party tricks, nothing to indicate this holier-than-thou man.

Through the buzz of it all, she could feel it. The string of fate that connects her to her husband. It was faint, but it was there and she knew she was in the right place. She just had to find out where.

A man emerges on the top of the stairs to the second floor and opens his arms in a flourish. She frowns at him because there he was, Rodrick Burgess, the man who took her husband. By the end of tonight, she promises herself, there will be no Rodrick Burgess.

“Ow, dang you’ve got a grip on you,” She breaks eye contact with Rodrick when her escort for the evening exclaims out. She releases the iron grip she had wrapped around his lower arm and apologizes.

“I am terribly sorry,” She apologizes. “Actually, I am parched, can you be a gentleman and fetch me some lemonade?” She bats her eyelashes and gives a smile. His face lights up in a blush and runs off to fetch her the lemonade she wants.

As soon as he was out of eyesight, the goddess began moving. She moves between bodies like wind on the beachfront - gracefully, wistfully, but with purpose. She uses her senses to locate where her husband could be. It was like an invisible dance.

When the sense weakens she backtracks, when it strengthens she moves forward. She was so lost in her quest that she almost did not register when she ran into a wool-covered chest. Surprise overtook her face as she looks up, ready to apologize and continue on her way. But she stops when she realizes that the man she bumps into is the very host of the party.

“Rodrick Burgess,” She says almost breathlessly. Oh, how she wants to commit a grievous crime to this mortal.

The old man chuckles above her and grabs onto her shoulders. His fingers are cold when they come into contact with her bare skin and she wants to cringe away from his touch, but he holds on strong.

“You seem like a curious creature, my little dove,” He comments and starts to walk. Without much room to budge, she is reluctant to follow him.

“Yes,” She drawls out much like how Morpheus tends to do. She suddenly acts with interest when she realizes that the bond strength between her and her husband increases. She holds on tighter and presses her body against his arm.

“I heard that the great Magus kept the devil in the basement of his manor. Can we see it?” She fakes a supple voice and looks up at him with an innocent smile.

“Oh, I don’t know. I don’t think a small thing such as yourself would want to see the devil.”

“No!” She belts out, a bit too quickly. But she recovers smoothly. “What I mean to say is, I am far too excited to see him. Please don’t deny me this one pleasure Great Magus.”

“How loathsome,” She thinks to herself.

“Very well, I can’t deny you anything if you keep looking at me like that.” He confirms.

Rodrick Burgess leads her away from the party, down a long and quiet hallway. It is decorated with antique and rare collectibles. The older man talks about each one, dragging on his time that leads to her husband, but she nods along anyway.

She had waited decades to be in the arms of her husband again, a few more minutes surely wouldn’t hurt. Soon, she is led to a dark and demanding set of double doors. Locks and bolts seal it from top to bottom. With a nod of Rodrick’s head, the guards stationed outside open the door slowly and a cold air seeps out and blows her hair back. The basement smells musty of old water and stale air. A cough emits from further down the stairs and she frowns.

“Scared yet, child?” Rodrick says to her mockingly.

She only shakes her head no as she continues down the steps.

The smell grows stronger as she gets closer and she can also make out a small portion of dirt and sand amidst it all. Despite it, the air was crisp and cold, suitable for a stone basement.

A light emits from the end of the long staircase downwards and she can’t stop her jaw unhinging as she finally sets her eyes on her husband. Tears well up in her eyes as they dart across the room.

Arches supported the basement throughout the floor and a moat still separates between her and her husband. A singular fluorescent light is cast on him in a glass prison as if he were some circus animal on display. Below the glass prison were some sort of gold runic markings and even from far away, she could feel the real magic emitting from them.

Rodrick releases her hold on him and turns to the two guards on duty that night. “You two may go,” He instructs, and the two leave without debate.

At the sound of his voice, Dream opens his eyes but remains in his laid position. His gaze pierces into his corrupt heart, if he even had one left, but quickly notices his wife by his side. With this, he sits up and gently places a hand on the glass barrier.

“Would you look at that!” Rodrick boasts. “He moves, he doesn’t do that much. Perhaps he has feelings for a pretty thing like you.”

The goddess doesn’t hear him and walks up to the glass cage in a trance. How does she free him? Tears fall restlessly down her face and her stature dejects. She snaps out of her trances on the small bridge above the stagnant water when a rough hand squeezes her upper arms.

“Stop, you must not get any closer. He is trying to seduce you into releasing him!” Rodrick hashes out between gritted teeth.

She opens her mouth to tell him something, anything, to release her husband but stops when she hears Dream’s voice again.

“Wife,” He calls simply and her body fills with all of the love and adoration she had been missing for decades.

Rodrick’s grip tightens at his voice, the first time he remembers hearing it. With a shocked face, he looks down at the woman in his grip. “Wife?!” He screams at her furiously.

She takes a deep breath and steels herself, ripping herself away from his bruising grip, and stands between him and her husband. The tears had dried and only anger left in its wake.

“The one before you is Daleena, Goddess of Husbandry, Mother of Agriculture and Protector of Animals, Saint of Farmers, Queen of the Dreaming, wife of Dream of the Endless. You face me now, mortal.”

Wind swirls, somehow, in the basement but it is the least of Rodrick’s worries. He plants himself firmly as the wind picks up and sand envelops the two of them in a vortex of anger.

“I have captured something more than a god! I have an Endless!” He points a finger at her, eyes scrutinizing. “What makes you think you can defeat me? The Great Magus Rodrick Burgess?”

Walking a few steps forward, her shepherd’s crook materializes in her hand, the bell jingling violently in the wind. Her extremities start to glow their familiar light as she musters power. She points the staff at Rodrick as billets of wheat start growing around his feet and crawl up his legs, the nice wool of his pants long forgotten against the harsh stalks of the plants. The plants bloom as it sucks the life away from the very thing they grew on.

Rodrick starts chanting in Greek.

“Prostasía,” He chokes out. “Prostasía.” He chants again and he breathes easier. “Prostasía.” He chants one more time and he’s back to standing at his full height. The plants that were wrapped around him wither away and fell into dust, sucked into the sand vortex around them.

The goddess frowns, she did not realize how much power she had lost until now when a simple protection chant could stave off her attacks. Rodrick lunges at her, hands open and clawed, ready to grab onto any piece of her clothing. In turn, she slams her crook into the ground and a fissure opens up, but not before he can shove her further and her body slams into the wall of the glass prison. The fissure separates the two opponents away from each other and Rodrick steps back before he falls into the Earth.

She braces herself on the glass wall at the impact and loses her breath for a moment. She could feel the warmth of her husband’s hand and she turns away from Rodrick to look at him. His hand was aligned with her own, so close, only inches apart.

“The runes, my love,” Morpheus tells her. She looks down at looks at the graphics that surround them, the sand had erased some of it through the abrasive nature of itself. The magic within the runes would still be strong if not for the defiant smudge she creates with her foot, just in time for the fissure to finish opening. With a final look at her husband, she walks closer to the fissure, pulling the sand vortex smaller so it was just her and Rodrick again.

From the fissure glows a golden light, soft and merciful but quickly overshadowed by the growing dust. The light expands as the golden serpent which holds her daughter emerges. It had grown in size since the last time she had seen it. Its length and mass have nearly tripled in size and the baby bulge it used to flaunt was now merely a small bump.

Rodrick’s stare grows higher and higher as the snake continues to emerge, it stares at the man, tongue flicking angrily at him for daring to harm the goddess. The snake lunges, all fangs and dripping venom, its large scales clattering against each other like gold coins. Rodrick moves to the side and the serpent misses. It hisses in retaliation and comes around again, this time wrapping its body around the legs of the Great Magus.

Panic sets in as the serpent starts to constrict around the man and he can feel his pulse pounding against his head and the blood circulation gets cut off. The bones in his knees pop as they press together.

“Father!” A young boy’s voice screams across the vortex and the goddess sees a glint of silver cross into the vortex arena.

The serpent is halfway up Rodrick’s body when the goddess notices the sharp dagger that Rodrick now possesses. He rises it high in the air and with a large gasp plunges it into the flesh of the serpent. The golden scales provide little to no protection against the artifact.

“No!” She screams and takes a step forward, only to be stopped by the protective tail of the serpent.

The metal hisses as it melts against the golden scales, melting the scales together until they become smooth around the wound. Rodrick slides again and again until the weapon becomes too slippery with blood and he loses grip. The snake is now a mosaic of gold and red as it tightens one last time.

“Curse… you…” Rodrick strains out, his face turning purple as the last bit of air leaves him. The serpent weakens and falls in a slump like an inanimate rope and the sand around them falls like rain.

The goddess leaps over the fissure and after making sure the man is dead runs to the head of the golden serpent. Its eyes were dim, mouth agape as its muscles weakens and she can no longer feel it breathing on her skin when she places a hand above its nostrils.

“No, no no,” She mumbles to herself. She grabs her dress up and away from her feet as she makes her way down the length of the serpent. When she reaches where she last saw the small baby bump, she runs her hand along its underside, soon becoming slick with cooling blood.

She finds a particular cut that was deeper than normal and when she sticks her hand in there, they grab around a small appendage. A cry of relief leaves her lips as she digs deeper. She pulls her baby from the dying body and cradles it to her body. Golden scale imprints are decorated across her arms and legs and a few more along the spine of her back.

Her breath hiccups as silence fills the air. She pats her daughter’s back and wipes her mouth clean and panic seeps into her bones when still she remains quiet.

Morpheus appears behind her, placing a hand on her shoulder. She turns to him, tears streaking down her neck.

“Crying, why-why isn’t she crying?!” She wails and clutches her child harder against her chest.

Morpheus hugs her from behind and holds the two of them to his chest.

“Y/N,” He calls her name, her real name. Not her titles, or what the mortals call her, but the name given to her since her creation.

She weeps into his form, salty tears mixing with blood and the amniotic fluid that covers her child. Her tears fall into her daughter’s mouth and feed into the child her grief, regret, and guilt as well as the hope she still had in her.

A soothing hand pets her and the silence disappears. Loud wailing comes from below and her eyes shoot open. Her daughter was finally crying, her hands in fists as they move around in the air.

“Praises,” She sobs again, this time tears of joy. Her child's eyes peel open and smiles as she grabs at her mother’s hair.

Morpheus smiles, a rare one, all teeth showing as he touches his daughter’s head gently. The three, now a family, return home to the Dreaming. There will be more to do, especially for Morpheus but for now, a small victory lies within the hope that is their daughter.

Extra:

“Well I’ll be baffled, bamboozled, and befuddled,” Phanes says, hands on his hip and his staff leaning against one of the walls of the basement.

He stares at his serpent covered in dried blood and dearly departed, lying alone on the cold basement floor.

“Look at how they massacred my boy!” He screams to no one in particular, arms out in disbelief.

He lets out a huff and crosses his arms. “I’ll let you borrow my snake, blah, blah, blah, take care of it like it’s your own, meh, meh, meh,” He mocks.

Phanes runs a hand across the top of the snake’s head and watches as the dried blood rehydrates and moves thickly back into the cuts. The gnashes done by the weapon stitch itself back close and the gold scales return to their original form.

The snake shrinks smaller and smaller until it is back to its original size. At which, it perks up and flicks a tongue out in thanks to its god.

“All right, let’s go,” Phanes says with a sigh as if this was a mundane chore. He extends out a hand for the serpent to slither up to.

“I am never making a deal with those two ever again, that was crazy.” He says to his snake.

The snake flicks its tongue again and rattles the scales on its back.

“Ohh, that’s nice that she made you an enclosure.” He responds, then remains silent as the snake says something else. “What do you mean she forgot to put mice in the enclosure for you to eat?!”

Main Masterlist || Series Masterlist

#morpheus #morpheus x reader #morpheus x reader smut #the sandman #the sandman x reader #dream of the endless #dream #dream x reader #dream x reader smut #angst with a happy ending #light angst #the sandman fanfic #morpheus x wife!reader #morpheus x wife reader #dream of the endless smut #dream of the endless x reader

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babiedemon · 1 year

Text

MISERABLE MAN . . . haymitch abernathy / reader

genre . . . fluff, post-war

warnings . . . age gap, mentions of war, swearing, sexual themes

inspired by miserable man — david kushner

haymitch was a drunk. he was a miserable old man with a bad temper and a lifetime worth of pent up trauma. even with the newfound peace, the end of the rebellion, the birth of a fair nation. you knew no matter the time, the level of freedom, he’d forever be a miserable old man.

you mulled over this as you approached his home, a looming tower of a house in the shambles of district twelve. you’d taken the train there, what was once a capitol luxury now a simple means of transportation. the gravel of the deserted district crunched beneath your designer boots, ricocheting off empty buildings of the desecrated town.

there was no response to the heavy knock you left on his door, or one of the side windows, or the back door. you’d almost given up hope, prepared to break the door off the hinges, muttering angry words to yourself as you rounded the side of the house, when you caught sight of a moving figure in the distance. you couldn’t mistake that mop of black hair for anything else in the world, the long hair of the former face of rebellion.

“hey, katniss!” you called over the wind rushing in the space between you. she brought her hand up to wave, a pair of squirrels dangling from her fingers, a slight smile on her softened face.

“hey, eagle eye!” she shouted in response, an echoing reminisce of your rebel nickname. “what brings you to twelve?” she was closer now, close enough for you to pinpoint where her eyes sat over her nose, the once hardened stone color softened to a plush storm cloud. she stopped a few feet before you, eyes giving you a onceover.

“here to see the drunk. any idea if he’s home?” you inquired, lifting your eyebrows. katniss tilted her head to the side, squinted against the piercing rays of the setting sun.

“knowing haymitch, he’s probably drunk off his ass right about now. he usually leaves a window cracked in the front if you wanna try getting in that way,” she suggested, switching the tails of the squirrels from one hand to the other in favor of scratching her eyebrow.

“thanks a bunch, kat. i’ll be sure to pay you a visit sometime before the week ends. lord knows i’ll have my hands full with mitch,” you hummed, slowly backing away as you spoke. she bid her silent goodbye the same way she’d bid her welcome, lifting a single hand as she parted ways toward her towering home.

you found the crack in the window almost as soon as you’d reached the top of haymitch’s stairs and pried it open, the metal frame squealing in protest as you forced the pane of glass wide enough for your body to fit through.

getting in was much harder, your body falling on the floor and taking out half the items displayed crudely on his windowsill. you were certain that you’d gained at least a few bruises from the tumble it took for you to reach the hardwood floor, a grimace on your face as you inspected your exposed, aching elbows.

“what the hell are you doing here?” haymitch sighed, his voice carrying over to the foyer from his place on the living room sofa. you couldn’t see him, and you doubted he could see you, but you guaranteed from your loud entrance he could deduce it wasn’t his usual visitor.

“is that how you greet all of your long distance girlfriends?” you asked dryly, pushing yourself up from the floor with a few grunts. you rounded the foyer into the living room, spotting haymitch’s salt and pepper curls from the entryway.

“‘s how i greet everyone, sweetheart. get used to it,” he muttered, making quick work of pouring himself another glass of liquor. his hands trembled violently, likely due to the withdrawal contorting his face, liquor splashing over the edge of his glass and pooling on the mahogany coffee table. you sighed as you seated yourself beside him, took the bottle from his hands, and shot him an unimpressed look out of the corner of your eye.

“how many have you had?” you asked, studying the hazy sheen over his stormy eyes. he tutted, lazily rolling his eyes, his body sinking into the cushions.

“only three today. woke up about six hours ago, so i’d say that’s pretty tame,” he remarked. you suppressed the agitated sigh and tipped the bottle, pouring a hefty amount of whiskey into his chosen cup.

“i thought for sure when you didn’t answer the door you were passed out in your own piss and vomit again,” you murmured, voice softened as you regarded him. he was aging, his stubble shining with a number of grey strands, the curls atop his head beginning to gain more of his eye color with every visit. he’d gained back a bit of weight in his cheeks and stomach since you’d last seen him, his face and gut now rounded out a bit more.

“i figured if it was important, whoever it was would find their way in,” he spoke, voice gruff, a pause interrupting his sentence. “i was right about both. it was important, and you did find your way. besides, i’ll have you know i happen to have cut back on my substance abuse, thank you.”

“you know i’ll always find a way to come pester you,” you mused, reclining next to him. you felt a bit of pride swelling in your chest, a smile growing on your lips as you processed his minor recovery from years of raging alcoholism. haymitch’s arm slid easily over your shoulders, an almost inaudible chuckle leaving his lips, the rim of his glass snuffing it at the source.

“you definitely are a pest,” he hummed, tongue lapping up the remnants of whiskey on his lips. “what brings you here anyways?”

“i was hoping we could spend some time together. i’ve missed you,” you spoke softly, your cheeks heating up with your admission. haymitch hummed, his nose brushing the top of your head, the smell of alcohol wafting off of him. you’d come to enjoy the bitter scent, associating it with the man you’d fallen for over the course of your teens and now early twenties.

“missed you too, doll face,” he muttered, letting his head loll against the back of the sofa. his fingertips, ever as tremorous, came to scratch at the itchy stubble spotting his chin. “got some geese around back if you wanna check ‘em out.”

“when the hell did you get geese?” you inquired, face lifted in amusement as your eyes traveled haymitch’s exposed windpipe. the skin there was red, flushed from his consistent substance abuse, and a few scratches laid about from his incessant scratching. your fingers reached to trace the raised lines, smoothing them over with your thumb.

“not that long ago. decided i needed a hobby. shit’s boring around here,” he grumbled, watching you curiously. he realized the source of your focus after a few seconds, clearing his throat embarrassedly. “my hands shake too much to shave now. can’t cut my hair either.” he gestured to the top of his head, where his curls fell unkempt to his chin. you tilted your head to the side, running your fingers through the knotted ends of his dark locks, a smile on your lips.

“i could always trim you up, mitch,” you muttered, picturing different cuts and styles framing his face. if only one thing benefited you from your days as a capitol stylist, it was the cosmetic knowledge. you got free cuts, free colors, free hemming. “i think you’d look pretty good with a shag. your curls would suit it nicely.”

“do whatever gets it out of my goddamned eyes,” he gruffed, grumpy as ever, prompting you to begin your search for his razors and scissors. for a reason you couldn’t place, you’d begun cleaning as you searched as well. you’d washed his clothes, polished the kitchen, dusted the paintings and tables, all whilst he lingered in every doorway with a bottle and glass in hand, eyes watching you with burning intensity.

“you look good cleaning,” he remarked, the devious smirk on his lips hardly hidden by his whiskey glass. he slunk towards you, footsteps slow and wobbly against the hardwood floor.

“you’re only saying that because i’m bent over scrubbing your toilet,” you muttered, standing straight up upon feeling his hips meet yours. he looped an arm around your middle, your heart beating out of your chest as you turned your face to let your gazes meet. his eyes, grey and clouded, held a heady desire you hadn’t seen in months. his body pushed yours partially forward as he leaned, settling his drink on the toilet lid in favor of taking full hold of both your hip bones.

you gulped, face red as you turned in his loose grasp, letting him back you until your hips met the bathroom counter. his hand settled beneath your chin, guiding your head up until your eyes settled back on his, his other palm settling on the marble beside your blushing body. his gaze was honed in on your parted lips, eyebrows furrowed and concentration painting his flushed face.

“haven’t seen you in ages,” he mumbled, voice breathy and depraved as a slight smirk quirked the corner of his lips. you let out a shaky laugh, looping your arms around his neck, toying with the greying curls jutting from the nape of his neck.

“i’m starting to think you missed me more than you let on,” you breathed, pupils dancing over the space between his eyes and mouth. his fingers slid, igniting a fire beneath your skin, thumb caressing your jaw and palm cupping the side of your neck. he let out a soft chuckle, leaning in just barely close enough for his chapped lips to brush the gloss from yours.

“that is the understatement of the century.” his eyes fluttered shut as he pressed a fleeting kiss to your buzzing lips, pulling away much too soon for your eager impatience. you sighed, breath fanning over his scruffy face, eyes squeezing shut as the smell of his musky body soap twisted with the stench of his preferred beverage.

“i’m supposed to be cutting your hair.” you chuckled airily, prying your eyes open to meet his lusted stare. he took a moment to process, no doubt distracted by the touch of your fingers to his exposed collarbone.

“you’ll have to wet my hair, right?” as he spoke, voice husky and eyes dropping to your body, he made agonizingly slow work of undoing the top few buttons of your dress shirt. you followed his train of thought, chest heaving against his fingers, eyes darting to the shower standing to your right.

“i like the way your pretty little head works.” you gripped the collar of his shirt, pulling him down to your level, lips taking his in a short lived, rough kiss. “strip, then.”

“you don’t have to tell me twice, sweetheart.”

you couldn’t help the boisterous laughter tumbling from your chest.

#the hunger games #haymitch abernathy x reader

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soaps-mohawk · 14 days

Text

The Cottage Part 4: The Upstairs

And finally we come to the upstairs portion of the build. This is the area the guys are staying in. Two bedrooms and a bathroom, much to their displeasure but we have to torture them as much as possible, ya know? Can't make their lives too easy. Got some awkward walls down shots in this because again, taking screenshots in small spaces is hard. I am so good at playing the Sims y'all have no idea lmaoo (that's a joke). Anyway, enjoy!

Also I can't remember if I said this or not but I used the move objects cheat. It's my pal. My sweet cheese. My good-time boy. My main squeeze. (if you get that reference I will kiss you on the mouth)

Sims Build Masterlist

Here's a view of the hallway and the stairs from John and Kyle's door since again, I am a master at taking screenshots lol. Very basic, very simple, very artsy.

And the guys' bathroom. Not much different from the bathroom downstairs, just smaller. I think everything is playable? I didn't test it so you might have to make some changes if you don't.

The first bedroom, the one John and Kyle are staying in. Very basic, very plain and simple. (Can you tell I was burning out with decorating by this point 😂) And a room that's not blue!!! amazing

And the room Johnny and Simon are staying in. Johnny gets the purple bed of course. I like to headcanon this is the room that Kyle and Ashley stayed in when they were growing up. I also headcanon they have an older sibling who got to stay downstairs in their own room. Part of me feels like Kyle is the youngest. He gives the vibe of two older sisters. I feel like I've discussed this before but...yeah. That's the feel I get. He and Ashley are close in age, though. Probably a year or so apart.

So that's the cottage, how I view it at least to a degree. Very classic but also with some modern twists because renovations. I hope you enjoyed my lovely (blue) interior design skills and now you have some mental imagery going forward since I suck at describing things.

#crcb builds #the cottage

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lightofthemoonglow · 11 months

Note

Dry humping

Two characters intertwining their fingers while making love

Stu Macher + Reader

Feel free tose interpretation and take control<3

Note: I wasn’t sure if you wanted everything to be Stu-focused, but that seemed like the best option, and it worked out that way once I got the idea!

“ I dare you to give Stu a lap dance.”

You roll your eyes, but you still put down your beer and get off the couch. “This is some high school shit and we’re adults now, for fuck’s sake,” you grumble as you stand in front of Stu, who pats his lap with a wide grin on his face. Your back is to Billy, so you don’t see his sly grin or the thumbs up he gives his best friend. Of course this had been a ruse designed to get you to this place, to you sitting on Stu’s lap.

The music shifts to some Nine Inch Nails, ‘Closer’ starting up as you began to gyrate on Stu’s lap. Your movements are awkward and your legs keep knocking against his, the brushes of skin on skin clearly doing someone for Stu because he gets a little harder every time. There’s a burst of noise from outside, someone is getting into a fight on the lawn and everyone in the room leaves but the two of you. And before you can get up, Stu grabs your arm.

“Song isn’t over yet,” he says, his voice quieter than you can ever remember it being. His grip isn’t that tight, it would be easy for you to pull away and go see what all the fuss was about. Only…you don’t want to. You can feel him against your ass, hard and throbbing even though your body is stone still. Slowly, you begin to rock your hips again, holding onto the arms of the chair just before Stu grabs your hips, this time his grip is firm.

Nothing comes off, he doesn’t even go to cop a feel. He just humps away, groaning praises in your ear. “Damn, your ass is perfect. Spent years beating off thinking about it.” He’s done before the song is even over. It feels like the moment went on forever, but it was only a few minutes. Afterwards, you go to watch the fight, which is only two guys shoving each other, and Stu goes to clean up, no one being any the wiser.

The party is over by one, but there are always stragglers. But it’s past two a.m now and you’re still in the living room, sprawled on the couch as Urban Legend comes to an end. In the distance, you can hear Bllly leaving and you know that means you’re the last one here. You pause the movie as the credits begin to roll, waiting for footsteps, waiting for Stu to be the one standing in front of you.

“Do you want to talk about it?” he asks.

“Is there anything to talk about?” You sit up so he can be next to you, drawing your legs up to your chest, wrapping your arms around them.

“I came in my pants because of you, so yeah.”

“A simple biological response to-“

“I came because of you.” The way he says the last word makes your heart stop, just for a moment. “It wouldn’t have been like that with anyone else.” He grabs your hand, playing with your fingers as he tells you that he meant it when he had said he jerked off to thoughts of your ass. And the rest of you. He revealed the whole plan, though the fight had not been a part of it. It wasn’t supposed to have gone that far, but he hadn’t been able to help himself and you had wanted it too.

“I just wish I had gotten to see your face when you came,” you say, looking at the semi that’s forming in his shorts. Stu laughs and looks at the same place because he knows what you’re hinting at.

A part of you had expected Stu would go at it on the couch. That he would pull your shorts off and just go to town. Much to your surprise, and delight, he carried you up the stairs and to his bedroom. Thankfully, there aren’t any stragglers lurking up there, so he can just throw you on the bed and get down to business.

Stu’s hands are bigger than you had thought. Which is illogical, considering you see them all the time. but they seem so much bigger when they’re covering your tits, when his fingers trail up your thigh and then press against your entrance so he can feel how wet you are.

And they’re an anchor for you when he’s finally inside of you. It’s not your first time, but it’s still overwhelming, you feel like the world is coming down on you and him holding your hands makes it feel so real and wonderful.

#stu macher x reader #ghostface x reader #slasher x reader #slashers x reader #slasher imagine

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klausysworld · 11 months

Note

would u be down to write Klaus x vampire hunter? I need that forbidden love angst and all that goodness!! I also may have seen a Buffy the vampire slayer post and couldn’t stop thinking about a Klaus x slayer relationship 🤔

Plot twist? She ends up getting pregnant!?!? I just need the juicy stuff loool

(this is gonna be a multiple part story FOR SURE! I can't lie I've had a very similar idea/scenario running through my head for the past few weeks so i'm really glad someone really wanted this too! The only reason it'll be multiple parts is so that it's easier to read and so that i'm able to add the build up how i imagined :))

Love is never simple

(Part 2 here)

Y/n was the first born daughter to Grayson and Miranda Gilbert.

When Y/n was born they had only very recently claimed Elena as their own, passing the two babies off as twins to those they knew. Fraternal of course for they were definitely not similar not for their looks nor their behaviour.

Elena was a mommy’s girl, she wanted to dress up and be the princess: have her hair and nails done, go shopping with her friends Caroline and Bonnie.

Meanwhile Y/n was more curious. She liked to follow her father, learn from his actions. She still spent time with the girls but given the choice to run around a field and swing a bat then she wouldn’t say no.

One day Miranda was unable to pick up the two girls from school, they were only young and couldn’t get a lift home. Grayson came straight from work and took the girls back there with him. Elena did as she was told, stayed in the designated room and wrote in her diary. Y/n decided to sneak after her father, wondering down a cold staircase to a dungeon of sorts. Men were walking with purpose in lab coats and barking orders at weak, pale beings in cells.

She could see card shot glasses filled with a deep red liquid laid out in rows on a tray. She held onto the railing of the stairs and watched as, who she assumed to be sick people, begged for the cups. Eventually they were given the small dosage, dark veins travelled down their eyes to their cheeks and sharp teeth poked into their lower lips.

A hint of fear swirled within her eyes, confusion and fascination. Something was wrong with these people. She peered closer, accidentally drawing the attention of one of the patients. His eyes narrowed before a small, cruel smile formed on his lips. It barely lasted a second before Y/n was harshly grabbed by the upper arm, causing a shriek to leave her as her head whipped round to see her fathers alarmed face staring back at her

“Y/n!” He yelled “you do not come down here!” Grayson hurriedly lifted her up the stairs and slammed the door shut behind him. “Where’s Elena? Is she still in the office?” He questioned in a panic and Y/n nodded quickly

“She stayed- I’m sorry Daddy- i just wanted to see” she whispered and he sighed, placing her down onto her feet and kissed her forehead.

“It’s not safe for you there” he warned

“What was wrong with those people?” She asked quietly and he clenched his jaw

“They’re not people Y/n…” he murmured “they’re…monsters…they just dress up as people”

They both looked at each-other trying to figure out what the other was thinking

“Dressed up?” She questioned curiously and he clicked his tongue

“Yes…see y/n, they aren’t humans. They just want you to believe that they are, they’re dangerous and it’s part of my job to stop them…to help real people be safe” he explained and she nodded

“You cure them?” She tilted her head, she knew her father was a doctor. Perhaps by stopping them he would make them people instead of monsters.

“If only that were a thing my little y/n….these beasts cannot be cured. Do you remember last summer when there was that…mountain lion on the loose?” He asked her and she nodded with a puzzled smile. “Well that creature hurt people, sent them to heaven…and because of that, the lion had to be put to rest” he told her and she nodded, viscous animals were put down, she knew that. “These beasts, they’re just like that lion. They’re viscous and they won’t ever be tame…they won’t ever feel love. They just want to hurt people.” He whispered, his eyes conveying passion as he spoke of the monsters.

“So you put them down?” She murmurs and he nods

“That’s right” he confirmed and she nodded back at him.

“Because they deserve it?” She utters and he smiled

“Exactly y/n, exactly”

And that was the start of a very twisted childhood.

Miranda was furious when she found out that Y/n had seen the Augustine vampires. They yelled all through the night, their angry voices sounding through the house which resulted in a frightened Elena and a crying Jeremy to climb into Y/n’s bed, all huddling together, looking to y/n for protection.

The next morning nobody spoke a word of the previous day. They ate breakfast, Grayson kissed the heads of each of his children and went of to work. Miranda got them all ready for school and dropped them off before going to work.

The system repeated itself until Y/n stepped out of line again. Tyler Lockwood had shoved Jeremy into a wall and called him names, Y/n wasn’t nearly as big as Tyler but threw punches just as hard. By the time the teacher had separated the two, both Grayson and Miranda were at the school beyond worried.

The school recommended Y/n went to a child’s psychologist to catch her anger management issues earlier rather than later. The same message was passed onto the Lockwoods.

But Grayson didn’t see a troubled little girl when he looked at his daughter, he saw someone strong, a fighter, a hunter.

With many disagreements and arguments, Miranda demanded that neither Y/n or Elena and Jeremy would ever be faced with the supernatural life as long as they were alive.

Grayson however didn’t listen. When Miranda took Elena out and Jeremy was at a friends, he would bring Y/n back to the vampires.

He showed her brain scans of a vampires brain vs a humans brain. He showed her a sociopaths and a psychopaths. He taught her what they had learnt, how a vampire thinks. How it behaves and why. He had her taking multiple self defence classes a week as well as personal training where she was allowed to used weapons, stakes.

On her 14th birthday, when everyone was getting ready for bed, Grayson came back into her room and gave her a box. Inside the box was a dagger, a very special dagger. One she had seen drawings of, heard stories of. And with it came the promise that one day she would get to use it.

Y/n was given weekly lessons on vampire history, all the way back to the originals.

By the age of 16 she was searching for them. For him. She wanted to see the one and only Niklaus Mikaelson. Supposedly the most ruthless, most dangerous and most powerful creature to walk the planet? The one who was supposed to kill her very very own sister.

Grayson didn’t approve of her wanting to seek him. He agreed with almost everything she did but not that. He couldn’t risk Klaus. Y/n could fight off a vampire, she was even able to kill a ripper while it was in a frenzy, but an original hybrid? At 16? He couldn’t guarantee that.

So she left in the night. She was gone four full days and nights before she returned. Miranda was in tears and begged her to never leave them again. Elena was angry and Jeremy felt betrayed. But Grayson could tell that Y/n had exactly what she wanted. She knew what Klaus Mikaelson looked like.

And when she placed a photograph of the beasts face on the table beside his glass, he knew he had successfully created a true vampire hunter.

Y/n had boards drawn, hidden from her siblings and mother and only accessible to herself. They held the locations of vampire nests, werewolf packs and witch covens all over the US. She began to form connections with witches. Shiela Bennet, Grams, was aware of Y/n’s involvement and although she wanted nothing more than to stay out of vampire business, she knew Y/n was in too deep to back out and she would protect that girl. She helped her get in touch with other witches, warned her of the witch trials that took place, where a hundred spirits would support her. In return Y/n promised to protect Bonnie, to never take advantage of her and to try her best to keep her away from vampires.

Everything was smooth for a while until that tragic night. One slip in the road and the car was in the water. Y/n had kicked and punched with everything in her to break the windows open, to save Elena, her mother and her father. But she watched as the life drained from their eyes, she watched as Elena tried to tell her how much she loved her. And then, in what she thought would be her last moment, she saw a figure force the door open with a supernatural strength. A vampire, Stefan Salvatore, saved both girls that night.

Y/n didn’t know what to think.

She understood that maybe he saved Elena because of the doppelgänger history that she had learnt of over the years. But she never understood why he would save her too.

Y/n had searched on Stefan before, the ripper. To say she was disgusted was an understatement, but now he was acting as though he was nothing more than a bunny muncher? Lies. There was darkness within him, waiting to be let free. He would kill them all. She was sure of it.

So sure that she broke into his house, only to find his brother Damon already there nursing a glass of bourbon. She observed the two brothers as they through each other from the window and hissed like feral cats. Like a mountain lion.

Damon didn’t even bother to hide his darkness, he was a monster in her eyes. Clear as the moon amongst the stars.

But before she could get her hands on the right stake, Grams was at her door

“Y/n, child, you mustn’t” she warned and Y/n frowned

“I will not have two vampires in our town, ruining my family.” She snapped back and Shiela shook her head

“Child, please” she begged “you have to trust me, trust me that you will need them” she whispered urgently

“Why would anyone need a vampire?” She sneered and Grams grabbed her hand

“Just believe” she uttered “they will not touch you, I can guarantee that not a hair on your head-“

“I don’t care if they hurt me, they will hurt Elena- Jeremy- Jenna-“ she listed, taking a pause before looking Grams in the eye “they will destroy Bonnie”

“You know I wouldn’t put her in danger, they will come and go. The older one of here for one thing, once he has it he will leave and the younger is nothing more than a nuisance” she tried to encourage but Y/n only shook her head

“You know that would be the easiest thing to believe. But they are not made to make friends, they are not here because they feel anything other than hunger. Hunger for blood and hunger for power. Your power, Bonnie’s power.” She threatened

“Y/n, you must trust me just this once. We will rid ourselves of these demons but we must do it right so that we do not become the monsters we fear”

And so with much reluctance, Y/n waited and watched.

She didn’t reveal any of her intentions, she just stayed quiet.

Even when the vampires escaped the tomb, she didn’t make herself known. When Grams died it broke something inside Y/n but it also made her stronger, she knew she had to protect her family, the Gilbert’s, the Bennett’s.

Not even the council knew she was in on it all. Grayson never told a soul outside of the Augustine community so that Miranda never found out. She helped of course, but at the end of the day when she watched Stefan and Elena beg for Bonnie to let them save Damon…Y/n just couldn’t decide where she stood. In that moment she froze, she watched Bonnie Bennet help a vampire and it confused her beyond belief.

And she witnessed it time and time again.

How could this happen? How could everyone in that godforsaken town so easily submit to those animals?

It was Damon who finally caught onto Y/n, noticing the pure disgust on her face when a vampire entered the room. The way she looked at Caroline after she turned, the inner battle she faced when Caroline cried like a child and begged Y/n to tell her everything would be okay.

He eavesdropped on Y/n’s conversation with Caroline’s mother, Liz. It was after Mason had outed the Salvatores and they were waiting for the vervain to leave her system.

“She isn’t my daughter anymore Y/n” she whispered and Y/n just stared back at the wall

“No?” She questioned slightly

“She’s a monster- my little girl is…my little girl is gone” she uttered, tears brimming in her eyes and Y/n’s thoughts stirred

“Gone” she repeated “it’s just a monster…dressed as Caroline?” She mused and Liz let out a sob

“How could this happen? They killed my baby” she cried over and over but Y/n remained emotionless. She wasn’t expecting Damon to be back yet, she wasn’t aware of the way he looked at her. The tilt of his head and the narrowing of his eyes. The shock he felt when he heard the question slip from her mouth

“Will you kill her?”

Liz looked up at Y/n, horrified to an extent as she slowly shook her head “I couldn’t…” she breathed and Y/n nodded in understanding

“Would you…would you have someone else kill her?” She asked quietly and Liz sat up a little straighter, looking at Y/n almost quizzically

“I…don’t know” she whispered “should I?”

That was the biggest question Y/n had. Where was the line drawn? The line between right and wrong, the line between human and monster.

Silence hung over them and Damon watched as Y/n pondered the idea, he could see the way her eyes glistened as she thought over the idea of tearing Caroline’s heart out and then he saw the guilt settle in and the confusion take over again.

“Maybe” she mumbled “maybe Caroline is truly gone. Maybe now she is just a hollow shell of who she is supposed to be and a violent, vicious animal” she stated unfazed “but then what if she’s still your baby girl? What if she’s everything she was and more? What if she’s…better” she whispered, a glint in her eye.

Liz couldn’t give and answer, neither of them could. Neither of them ever would.

By the time Y/n left, Liz was almost asleep.

Damon seized Y/n’s arm as she walked toward the front door and attempted to pin her to the wall only to be knocked off his feet and kicked straight in the gut. His hand automatically grabbed ahold of her ankle and twisted but nothing more than a grunt left her as she grabbed something, a glass, and smashed it against the side of his head. He let out a growl and lunged for her throat but her hand was in his chest in seconds. They both stayed completely still as she held is heart still inside his body, his fangs on display and pain clear in his expression.

A silent stare down happened before Y/n squeezed at his heart and forced a surrender out of him. Once she let go they both crawled away from the other and sat on the floor, facing the other with a contemplating look.

Eventually he spoke, “what are you?” He questioned and she scoffed

“Human” she stated as though he were stupid

“It isn’t human instinct to rip someone’s heart out” he raised a brow and she sighed

“Well maybe not every human but when we have things like you living in our town-“

“Things like me?” He laughed “oh you really aren’t who I thought you were” he grinned a grin of disbelief and stared up at the ceiling. “You think all vampires are monsters?” He murmured, glancing to her

“I’m not sure anymore” she mumbled and he hummed, his brows furrowing

“So…me…Stefan and Caroline are the demons and you? You’re a little angel?” He mocks and she rolls her eyes

“Nobody said or implied that” she sighed and he squinted his eyes

“So then what?”

“I don’t know.” She stated, angrier.

The both went quiet for a moment until Stefan walked in. His eyes were wide and confused. Both Damon and Y/n looked to each other, a look that said they needed to keep this quiet.

“What the-“

“Caroline thought I was gonna hurt Liz, she threatened me by grabbing my heart” Damon lied, a sarcastic smirk on his face which made the situation much more believable. “Y/n stayed to watch Liz, didn’t you?” He glared and she nodded

“Yeah, course, anything to help” she smiled and Stefan slowly nodded. Something wasn’t right but he knew he shouldn’t ask.

And from there stemmed an odd and twisted friendship.

Damon liked to purposefully annoy Y/n, see what made her angry enough to the point where she would hurt him. He wanted to know why she was so strongly against vampires. He wanted to know where she went when she disappeared.

Because disappearing wasn’t uncommon for Y/n, since those days when she hunted down Klaus Mikaelson. The beast who was supposed to be impossible to find but clearly wasn’t trying very hard to hide. Since then she would disappear for a week every couple of months, release her built up anger and hatred for the supernatural by going to a vampire nest and seeing how many she could take on at a time.

Between stakes, wooden bullets and enchanted blades she did very well.

She would return, any wounds wrapped in bandages and nobody would ask, Elena and Jeremy had come accustomed to it. They would hug her, thank her for coming back in one piece and she would promise to never leave without coming back.

Damon however would dance circles around her: “where were you?” “Why do you smell of blood” “what did you do?”

One day she snapped at him and told him she killing of leeches like him. She proceeded to stake him through the stomach and leave him on floor before going up to bed.

That was how Stefan found out. He witnessed the scene and very cautiously raised his hands in surrender when she stomped past him on the stairs.

Damon and Stefan had many conversations on it but nothing ever came of them.

Actually a sort of alliance was formed between the three, nobody tells Elena or anyone for that matter that Y/n is a vampire hunter and Y/n will help behind the scenes when needed.

It worked well.

When Elena and Caroline were taken by the wolves, Y/n killed more of those dogs than Stefan Damon combined.

When Elena was kidnapped by Rose and Trevor for Elijah, she had seen it happen and tracked them before anyone else realised they were missing. She waited patiently in the shadows for Elijah to arrive. She already knew so much about him and it was a dream of sorts to see him so close. She had the dagger of course but she wasn’t sure if that was the right thing to do. Looking at the situation, his tone and the look in his eyes, he didn’t seem to carry any untoward intentions with Elena and if Y/n were honest she wanted to take Elijah down to Augustine. She wanted to scan the originals brain, test his blood to see if he were different to the others.

But when Elijah continued to smack Trevors head clean off and grab Elena in a painful hold, she couldn’t just stand by. A stake was thrown strain into the top of his spine, temporarily paralysing the original and causing him to let out a sharp cry of pain and anger. Elena turned to face Y/n in shock, confusion and relief. Damon and Stefan moved as soon as Y/n did and tackled Elijah unto the others presumed him dead. Y/n however collected a small sample of his blood before they left.

She returned home with the others, explaining to Elena the best she could about how she got to be who she was. About their father’s secret vampire hunting job, leaving out the Augustine side to the story as she knew Elena would not approve and Damon, Stefan and Caroline would be appalled.

Everything was different from then, Elena seeked more support in Y/n like she used to do when they were younger and Y/n guarded Elena with her life. Even when Elena was determined to sacrifice herself, hand herself over to Klaus, Y/n was there.

Y/n could feel her heart in her throat when Elijah stood in-front of her, two hearts in his hands from the vampires that were here for the doppelgänger. He gave a her a strange looked, confused as to who she was before he noticed the way Elena hid behind her and Damon grabbed at her wrist. He vanished into thin air and Y/n went on edge.

She slept in Elena’s room or had Elena in her own. She dug back through her original’s knowledge and information, pages and pages worth of history and myths. Sketches of Klaus’s face and the daggers. A small figure, hand carved by Klaus himself and made of white oak which she had stolen and kept hidden away. But then she remembered what she had learnt from the witches she had conversed with.

Killing one original would wipe out every vampire of that sireline.

She wasn’t sure what to do. Kill Klaus and the Salvatores, kill Caroline? Her childhood friend? Destroy her bond with her sister and be left alone?

She hid the white oak away and decided on presenting Damon with the mystical dagger and white oak ash. He immediately took to the idea while Stefan was hesitant but after another week of Elijah proving to be nothing but a threat in their eyes, he found himself as close to death as he could be in the cellar of the Salvatore’s.

But then Klaus showed up, we’ll sort of.

He had taken over Alaric and assumed they would all be too stupid to notice.

But Y/n could sense something. And he didn’t like the way she was looking at him, a calculated and curious look. She knew he couldn’t question her, that would be confirming her theory. So she just waited and watched. Klaus couldn’t help but feel a little nervous when she narrowed her eyes and glanced toward Elena.

When he finally revealed himself and attacked the girls in the school, Y/n was already in the cellar and forcing Elijah up the stairs.

“You’re fucked up brother is here, wake the fuck up” she yelled as his fingers slowly twitched to life. She threw blood bags at him, watching him drain them in seconds through coughing and groaning.

Once he came to he tried to have her by the throat only to be smacked back by the invisible force of the doorway. She held the dagger threateningly at him until he calmed down and took a step back to compose himself.

They grabbed Elena ASAP and got to talking.

It was another couple days before she actually saw Klaus in his true form. Y/n had just stepped into the grill, ready to yell at Damon for force feeding her his blood when she noticed the dirty blonde, blue eyed vampire stood with a glass of scotch in his hand and a cruel smirk on his face. She swiftly weaved her way through the grill and to a booth in the corner to watch the interaction.

Klaus finished threatening Damon, walked all the way to the door and paused. He could feel himself being watched, his head turned in her direction, his eyes locked onto hers and his brows pulled together with a hint of confusion. He watched as Damon noticed Y/n and called her name, drawing her attention and beckoning her over. Klaus left with her on his mind.

She was soon forgotten when he completed his ritual, was faced with his brothers betrayal and then set free.

He then left with Stefan, unaware that Y/n knew exactly where they were all of the time. Following them, tracking them, hunting them.

She watched as they moved from the road to motels, to diners to hotels to dodgy alleyways to drain helpless humans, to houses to slaughter petrified people.

And while they slept she would break into their hotel rooms, seeing how long it would take to wake the beast. She rummaged through his duffle bag of clothes and papers. She flipped through his sketch books, seeing what new things he had added since the last time she looked. She made her own copies of his maps, marking the same places as he had to know where he would be going next to find the werewolves. It was amusing to her that the reason he struggled to find them was because she had helped kill a proportion of them over the past few years.

Klaus could always feel like someone was watching him but he wasn’t sure if it was actually there or just his paranoia so he never thought too much of it. She was always hidden when he looked over his shoulder anyway.

What he didn’t know was that sometimes she would slip a concentrated doses of ketamine into his and Stefan’s drinks when he wasn’t looking to ensure he would sleep through the night. What she wasn’t expecting was for him to have a nightmare.

She had been in Klaus’s room, transferring all the data from his phone over to her laptop so she could track is messaged and phone calls when he began muttering. She ignored him and waited for it to load but he began to get louder so she stood up, a little worried he would wake. But when his breathing turned rapid and his mumbled became cries for help in fear she started to understand. He was in the middle of a nightmare and the ketamine refused to let him wake.

Hesitantly she came over to his sleeping form, placing a hand on his shoulder which his shook off.

“Shhh” she hushed quietly, not wanting anyone else in the motel to wake. “It’s okay” she whispered but he wouldn’t shut up. He just wouldn’t stop screaming, begging for the wolves to let go of someone- Henrik.

Y/n pulled the covers off him, leaving him in only his boxers. His skin was covered in sweat as he struggled against his own mind. She gently rubbed her hands over his chest, trying to soothe him with physical touch. She whispered kind words to him as she smoothed her fingers over his skin to his face, petting him gently and calming him back to a more settled sleep. His face turned to press his cheek into her palm and she sighed, relieved.

Carefully she pulled away and grabbed her laptop which now had all of his information. She placed everything back when she found it and left, locking the door and moving into Stefan’s room.

Klaus could faintly remember the feel of hands on his body, such soft skin on his. He could remember her soothing voice as she told him to breath and relax. He could still feel her fingers in his hair when he closed his eyes.

Stefan almost always knew that Y/n had been there, he could always smell her perfume. Plus sometimes she would leave him little notes to let him know she was with him.

What wasn’t planned was for Klaus to actually find Ray. She was torn between staying with Klaus or following Stefan when Stefan promised to get rid of Damon, who was searching for him as he assumed Y/n was glad to be rid of the two monsters.

Y/n only stayed because Stefan had spotted her in the bar and mouthed for her to stay, that he would be back.

So she stayed and observed. Watched as Klaus threw vervain-dipped-darts into the man’s body with a smirk on his face. It was creatures like him that she reminded her of why she killed. Why she was apart of Augustine.

So she ordered a drink for him, had the waiter tell him a girl had gotten payed for it and watched as he grinned, flattered and looked around for her. He didn’t spot her as she hid herself behind the bar, he shrugged anyways and took the drink in one gulp. His eyes went wide instantly as the liquid quite literally burned through his throat, a mixture of vervain and wolvesbane in his system. He angrily looked around for the culprit but she was out the door in seconds and in her car.

Once he came back outside, Stefan was back and Ray was unconscious.

She followed them to the mountains and followed at a safe distance, stakes and wolvesbane grenades ready. She stayed low and far enough away, occasionally climbing into trees to watch as he snapped each wolves neck.

She watched in boredom as he failed, she already knew why he wasn’t successful. The witches had already told her Esther’s plan. The double curse.

Cruel but necessary.

She watched his tantrum and then she watched as they both dragged themselves back down to the car.

Following them to Chicago was a low point for her. She had dozens of cans of red bulls and protein bars in her car and had been listening to the same list of songs for months. Klaus’s messages were dryer than a dessert and Stefan was losing his spark. He was losing what made him special, the reason she began to trust a vampire. He was proving that all vampires were beasts.

Thankfully for Y/n, she had already met Gloria in the past. So when Y/n came into the bar after Klaus and Stefan had left and explained the situation, Gloria was happy to let Y/n stay with her in the apartment above the bar for a few days. Without Klaus’s knowledge of course.

She was also happy to let Y/n sit and watch the security cameras whilst Klaus and Stefan were downstairs. In return Y/n offered Gloria a favour, whether it be an ingredient to a spell or the death of another supernatural. Either way it didn't bother Y/n, she was just as happy to do either. if anything she craved to kill a vampire, it was her release and this trip was nothing but a bore for her so far.

It became slightly more interesting when Klaus woke his sister; Rebekah. watching them whine at each other was somewhat amusing but it also reminded her of Elena and Jeremy. She had never been away from home for more than two weeks and these past few months had been isolating and lonely.

What definitely sparked her attention however was when they began talking of Elena's necklace. She bit at her finger tips as she watched Stefan's dreadful attempt at behaving oblivious and the way Gloria's eyes darkened when she glanced toward him. y/n knew this would not end well. she was 100% certain that Klaus or Rebekah would figure out what was wrong and so she left with a head start.

She had Damon on the phone in minutes, bag packed and on the road.

"They know Elena's alive and by they i mean Klaus and his wacko sister, that's right another crazy original bloodsucker is coming to town! Get Elena, get Bonnie and get out!" she yelled down the phone as she drove way past the limit.

"woah woah woah, what? Y/n is this a joke? I'm not in town!" Damon whisper shouted back, clearly frustrated

"where the fuck are you?" she borderline growled

"I'm.... I'm with Katherine" he sighed, knowing the pissed off expression she would have on her face in that moment

"Well I'm in traffic! So get home, get Elena back ALIVE and then say goodbye to you dick because I'm gonna chop it off!" she screamed down the phone at him before abruptly ending the call and coming to a standstill as dozens of cars in front of her come to a halt. She clicked the radio on only to be told that a crash had happened a few miles ahead of her. Y/n smacked her head against the horn of her car and groaned loudly.

Klaus must've taken a diversion because she returned late into the night, Stefan was home with zero humanity and an angry blonde bitch. klaus was missing again and Elena was crying in her bed. Y/n laid with her until they both fell asleep.

The next morning Y/n, Elena, Jeremy, Caroline and Damon were piled into the Gilbert's kitchen. They figured out Tyler was sired/Y/n told them that it was obvious. Together they agreed that getting Mikael would be a good idea. Y/n didn't want him to kill Klaus, although it would have probably been the best thing for her. However she did want him to scare Klaus away at least for a while.

The problem was getting Rebekah to agree but Y/n already knew just the secret to spill to get her attention. It was pure luck that the creatures from 'the other side' were able to cross the barrier and that mason revealed the symbols. Y/n decided it would be better if Damon thought that Klaus killing his own mother was discovered by him instead of Y/n. And she thought it would be better if Elena spoke to Rebekah over herself. Y/n didn't really want to form any kind of relationship with the originals if they were going to be here any longer. Especially not Rebekah, she was too girly and obnoxious for Y/n.

So she let the plan fall out. She played her part, even let Caroline dress her up for homecoming just to make her happy. Afterall if Mikael did end up killing Klaus then Caroline would die too and Y/n would rather she went out on a high.

Everything was going fine, she even had a conversation with Mikael himself. He was rather impressed with her actually, he could recognise a vampire hunter within miles.

They then went to the gym, got redirected to the Tyler's, weird but whatever. And then Klaus made his appearance, reclaimed homecoming as a wake and effectively ruined everyone's night.

Y/n tried to cruise through the evening, keeping to herself and drinking shitty punch. She was pretty happy with just waiting until Katherine, posing as Elena pulled Y/n aside and let her in on what she and Stefan were gonna do. Well not everything they would do but that they planned to save Klaus because the hybrids would kill Damon. Y/n reluctantly agreed, much to Katherine's surprise if she were honest but she took the win.

Y/n then returned to the 'part' in annoyance and relief, that familiar confusion settling over her as she grabbed a real drink and stood to the side of the crowds.

Unfortunately for her, Klaus had spotted her and taken her loneliness as an invitation to approach her. and what was even more unfortunate was that Stefan was glaring straight at her, warning her not to fuck this up.

So she looked back to Klaus with an awkward smile. She knew her body was tense and she could feel her fingers twitch with the urge to defend herself. His power radiated like heat. She just knew Augustine would kill to have him in their facilities.

"Y/n, isn't it?" Klaus questioned knowingly.

"mhm" she mumbled, unsure how to behave.

"why are you all alone?" he asked, his eyes flicking up and down the length of her body, lingering on her cleavage without shame.

"I don't like people" she stated simply and he let out a chuckle.

"Ah I understand that" he smiled but she shifted a step away from him which he noticed but didn't comment on though his smile did drop, it was common for people to distance themselves from him. "you know things aren't going to end well tonight" he warned, his voice quiet but clear

"I'm aware" she mumbled, glancing to where Tyler was dragging an annoyed Caroline toward the house

"Then you should really make better decisions about who you side with, sweetheart. You're strong, and smart. I could tell that from the first time seeing you, it didn't take you 5 minutes to figure out that I wasn't Alaric" he murmured to her, his tone changing from threatening to proud though his face remained neutral.

She said nothing in response, she didn't know what he wanted her to do so she just stared back at him, watching his jaw clench and unclench as he watched and waited for her to come to some sort of answer. He knew that realistically he wouldn't received one but he hoped that she would be intelligent enough to at least take his words into consideration. Klaus liked her, he liked that she was observant and that she had the common sense that everyone else in the town didn't have, to stay out the way. If he were honest, he would have liked her to have been on his 'team', he imagined that she probably had a lot of untold knowledge just waiting to be put to use.

If he only knew the half of it.

Klaus was too buried in his thoughts to notice how Y/n's eyes focused on someone behind him, Damon, who mouthed that he needed 10 minutes before Mikael to get there and that Klaus needed to be occupied.

Y/n could have smacked him when she gave him a look as if to ask what to do and he acted out a dance scene. Her eyes flicked between Klaus and past his shoulder, and then just as Klaus let out a sigh and took a step back she cleared her throat and mentally stabbed herself

"Dance with me?" she offered, her hand very unwillingly lifting out for him to take. His brows shot up but he accepted with little hesitation.

She bit at her own tongue to keep her expressions at bay. Almost everything in her wanted to shove him off, stab him, stake him, behead him. She could feel the vervain syringe she had brought with her in the hidden pockets of her dress, she so desperately wanted to weaken him, kill him.

But no, instead she had a half vampire/half werewolf with his hand on her waist and the other holding her own. His werewolf side made his touch warm, almost like a human's. Slowly her hand went to his shoulder, lightly touching the expensive material of his suit jacket.

Her eyes found his awaiting blue ones, she didn't like how they seemed so deep, they reminded her of Damons. They were those obvious blue eyes, they could be beautiful some of the time and terrifying other times. They were the sort of eyes you could fall into, the kind you could swim in, the ones you would lose yourself in and never find a way out.

It was for that reason that she looked away from them and instead glanced around, taking in the music and the people. There were so many people, it didn't take a genius to guess that most of them were with Klaus, hybrids. She hoped this would be the last time she would touch him, be this close to him but deep down she knew better.

She could feel him pull her a little closer so that his cologne engulfed her, the scent was rich and her inhale for a second too long. She could sense Klaus's smirk in response but refused to acknowledge it. Hopefully someone would come get him soon.

Until then, however, she was to stay in the arms of the beast.

He wirled and twirled her around, doing whatever he could to entice a smile or a laugh from her. Klaus knew many dances from over the centuries, some slow and some fast. Some much more erotic than others and he took great pleasure and amusement in changing between them until a melodic laugh was buzzing through the air. His arms held her close as he brought them low and high, round and round. He spun her one last time before dipping her. Her breathing calmed and her laughs faded as she because aware of how his body pressed to hers, how his arms supported her and how close his face was to hers. The warm air from his mouth fanned over her face and the words she needed to say got trapped in her throat.

Thankfully a women cleared her throat which gained Klaus's attention.

"What is it, I'm busy?" he huffed as he lifted Y/n to stand by herself. He frowned when her touch left him and she moved away, a look of self disgust scrunching up her pretty face.

"Someone's here for you... he says his names Mikael" She told him, unbothered by his angry tone.

His demeanour changed in a second . That familiar coldness returning, it reminded Y/n of the vampires she'd seen with no humanity though it was a little different. She wasn't sure what was different about it but something was.

Either way she didn't like it.

And so by the time Klaus had turned around to apologise to Y/n for the interruption, she was out of sight. He sighed and shook his head before going to end his father.

Y/n proceeded to go sit in Katherine's car, turning the engine on and the radio as she waited for the inside to heat up. She was patiently waiting for the doppelgänger and Stefan to arrive and as soon as they were in the car, her foot was down and they were speeding into the night.

Ripper Stefan and Katherine Pierce were the two worst vampires for Y/n to be around. She wanted them dead, they deserved to die. She wished Klaus had died to his sireline went too. She really did...until she remembered that Elena would be broken. Family would always be more important than anything else.

So when Katherine and Stefan started talking about a way to get revenge on Klaus, she left. She went home and to bed so that she wasn't on 'the wrong side'.

Y/n didn't want to be on any of their sides. She didn't want to be in support of any supernaturals.

Which is why she hated to admit that she had some sort of weird friendship to Damon Salvatore who had been relentlessly teasing her on what he witnessed at the homecoming.

"Oh you should have seen them Elena, for a moment it was like I was in Spain watching salsa dancing and the next I was back in the 1800s" He laughed and Y/n lobbed a dart at him

"You wanted him distracted" she grumbled and he grinned while Elena rolled her eyes

"There's distracting and there's seducing" Damon chuckled

"Hey! He started the whole-"

"The whole what love?" Klaus's voice sounded from behind the trio. It was cold and sharp like the icy wind of the winter. He didn't appreciate being played with let alone mocked, especially when she had asked him too dance. Whether it were apart of a plan or not, she could have done something else for his attention. Throwing a drink on his would have taken him a good few minutes to rage about before changing his outfit but she chose a dance.

"Nothing" she answered, standing and walking away from them all, over to the farthest point of the bar so that she couldn't here what they were saying. 'No involvement' she would warm herself.

She knew they were talking about Stefan from the defensive stances the pair were taking but she didn't want to know why, not even for a second.

And she hoped and hoped that Klaus would just leave after his little threats but of course he had to hover.

A drink was placed infront of her and a hand spun her round on the bar stool forcing her to face the beast once again. "Afternoon sweetheart, lovely to see you again after our little moment. You could even call it a date" the sarcasm was clear but the words alone made her nose wrinkle up.

"I'd prefer you didn't" she mumbled and he hummed

"well I'd prefer a lot of things so I suppose we're all unhappy. Now, where's Stefan hm? I know you had something to do with last night, I witnessed you talking suspiciously quietly with Katerina." He placed a threatening hand on her upper arm and both Damon and Elena stood from their places, worry on their faces as they saw a darkness swirl inside Y/n's eyes. "Where is Stefan, and where had he put my family?"

Y/n let out a laugh, she couldn't help it.

"He took the originals?" she questioned, covering her mouth as hiccups of laughter threatened to escape. Damon headed over fast, muttering to Elena to get it the car. He quickly wrapped an arm around her waist and let out a nervous chuckle, looking to Y/n with wide eyes but she couldn't stop giggling.

"She's just...going through something right now" He smiled fakely and pulled her out of her seat, holding his own hand over her mouth making her shove him off out of reflex, her voice aggressive as she began to yell

"Get the fuck off you filthy-" she cut herself off when she noticed multiple people staring at her with surprised expressions. Damon simply chuckled and grabbed her elbow, pulling her toward the door

"don't hit me" he whispered quietly as he pushed her through the door and toward the car.

Klaus watched the two in confusion and interest. He certainly hadn't expected her to switch up so fast and he definitely wanted to know what the end of her insult was supposed to be.

His curiosity grew when he went to the Salvatore's to try and see if maybe Stefan was there only to find Damon and Y/n with a supernatural board, pictures and names written with strings running from the to different information.

"God if you and your fucked up brother just pissed off instead of following Elena around like the hungry mosquitoes you are then everything would be sunshine and daisies" Y/n complained and Damon rolled his eyes as he linked Stefan to the originals via some red wool.

"What and you would have carried on hunting and slaughtering vampires while Jeremy, Elena and Jenna would obliviously move on with their lives and eventually Elena would have settled down with good ol' Matt Donovon?" he mocked and Klaus's brows furrowed.

"Sounds better than my life right now" she mumbled and Damon rolled his eyes

"Surely this is every crazy vampire hunters dream?" he questioned "cmon think about it, you're surrounded by the oldest vampires, a famous ripper, hybrids and best of all...you got me?" he grinned and she groaned, dropping onto the couch.

"I know and it just makes me feel murderous all the time" she whined "and gross and contaminated" she gagged and he dramatically huffed.

"Come on, you can attack me" he offered with a playful glint and she let out a mocking 'ha ha'. "hey no come on, how about you get to stab me a few times and I get a shot of your blood?"

"Damon?"

"yes?"

"I would rather rip my own heart out then let a soulless , leech anywhere near my blood" she sneered and he laughed with a clap.

"How did it take me so long to realise you undying hatred for what was it?-my kind?" he raised his brows and she glared at him

"These past few months have done nothing but confirm my every belief. You and everyone like you are monsters" she whispered, enjoying how his expression faltered "unsavable, unloveable-"

"shut up" he uttered, veins appearing under his eyes making her lips curve up

"see? you can't even control yourself"

"says the girl who nearly lost it in the middle of the grill" he quipped before walking out and leaving her alone.

Klaus's mind was spinning with new knowledge. It made sense to him but he still wasn't exactly expecting it. Either way, he would find a way to put this to his advantage.

(Okay I'm going to make this part one and then from here Klaus and Y/n will have more time together and start to fall for one-another. I know this is a little different to my usual stories as I never usually give so much build up/back story but I had a lot of ideas and wanted to share those with you. So thanks for reading and I hope you loo forward to the next part/parts)

367 notes · View notes

itsmewillful · 3 months

Text

For Ever, and Ever {PART ONE}

Main Masterlist

Character Masterlist:

(Vox x fem!reader)

Word Count: 5725 (oh gosh, the prologue is gonna have a part two because i get too excited with leading the story on and on...*sobs*)

Outline: (PART ONE of the Prologue to I will Always Find You (IWAFY) This part introduces how Vox (Vincent Holland) and reader met. It includes a little bit of build-up, but most of all, FLUFF and your favourite ROMANCE! Vox and reader are two idiots in love fr.

(You don't need to read IWAFY to understand this story.)

Warning(s): Time-period typical sexism and racism (barely any but I'm still adding it just so you all are aware), bullying, and verbal abuse. Along with: Canon typical violence, language, etcetera. IF ANY OF THESE THINGS TRIGGER YOU, PLEASE DON'T READ. Also, it wasn't proofread, I stayed up too late trying to get this out so errors are possible!

A/N (PLEASE READ!): Reader is 16 in this story, and some things may not be time accurate. I also DO NOT CONDONE or SUPPORT to any kind of bad behaviour shown in this story, and any kind of possible mentioning acceptability of such things WILL BE BLOCKED from my account. Thank you, and I hope you respect this!

A/N 2:Also, don't feel shy to tell me what I can improve on! I love taking some criticism so I can work on my stories. And of course, feel free to share with me what you like most so I can get an idea what you all are looking forward to more.

Story below the cut:

It was the first day of High School.

Yes, High School.

You woke up rather early that morning all giddy and had a small bounce to your step when you descended your stairs after getting ready for school. Your mother and father smiled softly at your anticipation for beginning your next chapter in life, and you, of course, smiled back.

You felt happy all the way until you stepped into the building, and immediately fell victim to them.

Some people would call them the ‘Highschool Pretty Girls.’ You just mentally called them ‘The Rich-Stuck-Up Pricks.’ Because they were literally that–rich and stuck up.

You had felt rather confident that morning in your newly pressed sundress, that was rather expensive for your family’s minimum wage income. You loved it. A lot.

But now you wished you wore something else. All because the Rich Girls at the entrance of the school giggled at you and whispered to one-another not so discreetly about the new ‘fresh-meat’ that they were going to torment.

You held back some tears that were threatening to spill when you heard one of the girls giggling about how your complexion didn’t match your outfit at all, which of course was the needle that broke the camel's back and you began to feel tears fall slowly.

The ‘ring-leader’ of the group noticed your predicament, and began to wiggle her fingers at you in a faux wave, as if she was taunting you to continue crying. You huffed and turned hot on your heels and stomped away from the group.

No need to be crying over stupid brats.

You looked at your timetable, and noticed your first class was advanced literature, which brought your sullen mood up significantly. If there was one thing you loved, it was reading and writing books. I mean–you tried writing books, but you mostly read them. Opening the door to your designated classroom, you noticed that there were already quite a lot of students seated. You looked around to find a place to sit, and noticed that almost all the desks in the far back of the room were already taken. Figures.

You eventually settled for a desk closest to one of the middle-row windows, and smiled when you realised that the view was perfect to zone out to. You began to shift through all your belongings, and pulled out a simple-spiralled notebook and a pencil.

“Hello neighbour!”

You looked up from your notebook and noticed a girl with a dark-skin complexion smiling and waving at you with pearly-white teeth. You smiled weakly back, and attempted a wave. To say you were shy was an understatement.

The girl seemed to notice your quietness, and found that as an opportunity to scoot a bit closer to your desk to introduce herself.

“The name is Carly Burns. I’m new to the area and I’m trying to make friends. What’s your name?” She held her hand out to you, and you shook it gently. You felt your palms get clammy from nerves, and smiled awkwardly when she wiped her hands on her dress.

“Sorry,” you mumbled.

“‘Tis fine! It’s a collaborative effort. I’m sure my hands were the sweatiert ones. Not gonna lie, it’s really humid here. Most be all the boys.” She snickered.You smiled at her attempt to relieve some of the tension, and you said your name to which she repeated with a smirk.

“Nice name for a nice girl! Can’t wait to get to know ya. Say, are you doin’ anythin’ for lunch?”

You shook your head, and her smile seemed to get bigger.

“Great! My sister, her boyfriend and her boyfriend’s brother are all gonna be there. Which will be great for you since you seem to be a wee bit shy.”

“That’s a mouthful. Also, who is to say that I won’t shrink away when they try talking to me?” you asked meekly. Carly’s charming laugh rang in your ears, before she waved you off as if you said something ridiculous.

“I doubt it. You seem to handle me just fine. And I’m the most talkative.”

You nodded your head, and looked back up towards the front of the classroom when your teacher entered the room.

+++

“Yoohoo! Over here!”

You turned your head to your side and noticed your newly acquainted desk-buddy, Carly, and a couple of other teens you didn’t recognise. You smiled shyly and began to tread the short distance to their table.

“Hey, how was your third period?” you asked, mostly directed to Carly. She smirked, and held her hands up to give you a thumbs-up, to which you nodded.

“So, I already unofficially introduced you to my friends, but you are yet to know them!” She pointed to a girl that was sitting gracefully beside her. You knew that was Carly’s sister from noticing how similar their smiles were. It looked very mischievous.

“This is my twin sister, Ava.” She then pointed to a boy sitting across from her, and you learned that his name was Troy, and the lucky boyfriend of Ava. The last person to be introduced seemed to be too busy scribbling away in a notebook to care of your presence.

“And this wonderful fellow is Vincent. Who seems to be too preoccupied with writing ‘fanfiction’ to care about meeting you.”

As soon as the word ‘fanfiction’ fell from Carly’s lips, the teen immediately looked up from his book and glared at her.

“For the record, Miss Burns, it isn’t fanfiction. You wound me. It is my own, and completely original script.”

“Oh you’re right. Maybe an ‘adaptation’ to your favourite movie then. Anyway, don’t be a prude and ignore our new comrade. C’mon now, say ‘hello’ to her, Vinny.” Carly said, examining her nails as if she didn’t care for this ‘Vincent’s’ lame cover-up. (He actually was writing a fanfiction of his favourite murder-mystery by the way.)

Vincent rolled his eyes before he slammed his book shut and looked up to make eye-contact with you. His sapphire blue eyes seemed to pierce yours, and you felt tempted to look away to break his uncomfortable gaze. To say he was handsome was an understatement. This man was drop-dead gorgeous. Curly dark hair that framed his face perfectly, and he seemed to have a slight obsession with the colour blue since his outfit mostly consisted of the shade.

But, he's also kinda–scary? His eyes seemed to hold some sort of pent-up anger. Whether it was directed to you or not, you were hoping he wouldn’t lash out at you.

“Hey! I’m Vincent. What’s your name?” He said, rather too casually for a guy that looked ready to find the nearest wall and beat it up.

You awkwardly stared at him, for you knew your name was already passed around the table twice now. But Vincent took your hesitation for something else and rolled his eyes playfully.

“Not much for words, aren’t ya? That’s fine I guess. I sometimes end up doing all the talking anyway.”

His brother burst into laughter, followed by Ava. Vincent raised a brow at their sudden commotion.

“What’s so funny to you two?”

“Oh nothing Vinny, just that you’re so fucking stupid sometimes.”

“Excuse me? Who the hell are you calling stupid?” Vincent said, with a tone of malice laced in his voice. Carly (being the angel she is) noticed the tension arising between the two brothers, and attempted to change the conversation to prevent a fight from happening.

“Enough you two! And Troy, keep your mouth shut if you’re going to swear. I won’t have a sailor courting my sister.”

Troy immediately clamped his mouth shut, but his eyes still held intense eye-contact with his older brother. Vincent rolled his eyes at his sibling’s childish behaviour.

“So, to answer the question you asked earlier Vincent; the lady’s name is y/n.”

Vincent nodded his head and seemed to repeat the words under his breath, before he stood up hastily and snatched his notebook off the table.

“Nice. Cool. Great to meet you. Anyway, I have somewhere to be. I’ll be right back.” And like that, he quickly shuffled away towards the exit of the luncheon room. That was kind of rude.

You raised a brow, silently asking Carly why he abruptly abandoned the table. She shrugged and motioned with her hands that he was ‘crazy.’ You giggled before slapping her hands down and telling her to be ‘nice’.

+++

The clock finally struck 2 o’clock and you are sure you never abandoned a classroom so fast in your entire life. You would’ve kept up the pace if it weren’t for you running into a familiar group of giggling bullies.

You swear your soul momentarily left your body.

“Well, girls look! Isn’t it our beloved new freshmen!” a blonde girl with bright green eyes announced to her group, with an evil smirk gracing her freckled face. Well, you’ll be damned. You have never wished the ground to consume you so much right now.

“Hey dear, where did you get that dress? The donation box?” Another girl with a slightly darker complexion than the blonde girl. The three other girls of the group laughed obnoxiously, and you felt tempted to cover your ears to block out their shrill voices.

“No, actually. I bought it. Unlike you. I bet you spent all your ‘daddy’s’ money on your stupid lace and petticoats. Actually, I also bet that you have never even made your own money!” you spat out rather aggressively. Your eyes widened after the words spewed from your mouth. Nerves do marvellous things sometimes.

The blonde girl’s eyes widened when she realised you stood up for yourself. (Even though it was pretty much accidental) Her eyes narrowed down at you and she began to saunter up to you and practically forced you to take a few steps back.

“Listen here you little-”

“Aye! Got your wrinkled hands off my friend!”

You tilted your head to the side and noticed that Carly and Ava were both there standing with their arms crossed.

“Wrinkled hands? You filthy little brat, you better take that back or else-”

“Or else what? You’ll have your dear ol’ daddy call the school and report us? You don’t even know our names, bitch.” Carly confidently walked up to you, grabbed your hand, and tugged you along with her. You nearly tripped over your own feet from how strong she yanked you.

“You’ll regret this! I promise you will!” the blonde girl shrieked at the top of her lungs. Her group of friends circled around her to ‘calm their princess’ down. And to top off her dramatic display, she let a few fake tears trickle down her face. Ava made a gagging noise at their exaggerated emotions, and her sister chuckled at her theatrics.

When the warm air finally hit you, you let out a breath you had been holding in from the stress of the previous encounter.

“You alright there?” Carly asked, placing a gentle hand on your shoulder.

You nodded your head, even though you weren’t sure you were alright. Those girls sure do know how to make you feel insecure. And of course, they just had to nitpick about your lack of excessive flauntering of wealth.

Carly seemed to notice that you were in fact not alright, and she pulled you into a tight hug, which you reciprocated immediately.

“Hey sunshine, don’t let those girl’s words affect you. They always find something to call out about you.”

Ava eventually joined the hug, and you sighed happily, to which the other two girls giggled at.

“So, how about we three go out for some coffee or tea? I know I need some!” Carly announced with a beaming smile. Ava nodded at her sister’s idea, and you eventually joined in with the silent agreement.

“Great! I know just the place! I promise you, you’re gonna love it!”

+++

A few weeks later, you found yourself settling into a new schedule. You wake up, go to school and talk to Carly and Ava anytime there was a free period. Once in a while Troy was with his girlfriend, and you genuinely enjoyed his presence. However, you barely ever saw Vincent, but you didn’t care much since he was a junior with his own group of friends that he had.

But that doesn’t mean you didn’t wish he was around. When you first met him, he seemed genuinely interesting, and he appeared to share a similar passion with you for reading. Or in this case, writing.

Which is why it surprised you one day when he approached you. You were outside sitting in the school’s courtyard, enjoying one of your favourite books, The Hobbit, when a shadow fell over your form. You looked up and your eyes widened slightly at the sight of a certain junior you weren’t expecting to see.

“Hey there Miss Shyness! Haven’t talked to you in awhile. How’s school been for you so far?”

Your mouth hung open slightly at his simple words. Why was he suddenly interested in how school was for you? He chuckled when you seemed momentarily lost for words, and took that as an invitation to continue talking.

“Hey, we’re past the awkward introductions now! You don’t need to feel shy talking to me. Unless I scare you, then that is totally understandable. I mean–sorry?” He cringed at his sudden deplete in confidence, but lightened up a little when you giggled lightly at his words.

“You’re very funny, has anyone ever told you that?”

Vincent smirked at your words and placed his hands on his hips confidently.

“No, as a matter-of-fact. Most people tell me to ‘shut-up’ when I try to joke around. But alas, there is a first time for everything, am I right?” he wiggled his eye-brows suggestively, and you gasped at the hidden meaning of his words.

“Hey! You’re talking to a lady here!” you feigned disgust, to which he laughed at a little more.

“And a very pretty lady too. Mind if I join ya?” he asked casually. You felt your face redden a little bit, and you coughed to help relieve some of the tingly-ness from your stomach. His simple compliment for some reason made you feel as if your insides were turning into butterflies. You shrugged it off as lack of approval from people growing up.

“N-no, I don’t mind. But I’m not doing much, just reading.” You anxiously babbled. Where had your remaining confidence gone? Stupid butterflies. Vincent shrugged at your answer and basically plopped down on top of you.

“What book are you reading?”

“The Hobbit.” you answered, you felt the blush beginning to creep back into your face, and quickly turned your head away so he wouldn’t notice.

“I’ve heard lots of good stuff about it. What do you think of it?” he asked. Your face felt hot at this point, and hoped he didn’t notice it. Why was he interested in your opinion on a silly book? I mean, you were actually rather flattered by it, and not being teased for reading such things.

“I like it, which is why I’m re-reading it for the up-teenth time.” you said simply, hoping your wavering voice came across as confident to your friend. (Was he your friend? You weren’t entirely sure)

“Ah, well, can I read with you?”

“What?”

“Can I read with you?”

Your brows rose high into your hairline from his question. Was he asking for an invite to involuntarily spend more time with you? You were sure you were going to have a heart attack at this point.

“S-sure, why not.” You answered, swallowing thickly when he felt you pulse speed up slightly. You mentally scolded yourself for acting so silly. He only wanted to read along with you, so why are you getting all clammy from his simple gesture?

Maybe it’s because you truly have never had such an intimate moment with a boy before. You exhaled slowly to calm your nerves down, and nearly passed onto the next life when you felt warm hands graze against your back to pat you gently.

“There, there. No need to breath so hard. If me being close to you bothers you so you can just tell me to fuck off.”

You shook your head vigorously, and your hair almost wacked him in the face. He chuckled at your actions and decided that you were alright with the close-seating arrangement. A beat passed, and you eventually found the courage to open the book and continue the entertaining story of Bilbo Baggins and the Dwarves.

+++

“He did what?”

“He asked me if he could read along with me.” You replied to Carly once again. You both were currently in your bedroom, sitting on top of your newly dew-bleached blanket. It was a gift from your late grandmother for your eleventh birthday, and finally got around to unpacking it and bleaching it to safely wash. Carly absolutely loved it, and joked about taking it back home with her. And said female was currently staring at you as if you had grown a pair of wings and were flying.

“I heard you for the first time girl! I can’t believe he would do that though!” she practically beamed with excitement for your little ‘hang-out’ with Vincent earlier that day. You felt your ears turn pink from the memory, and Carly smirked when she noticed how hot and bothered you looked.

“Seems to me my little ‘princesa’ is in lovey-dovey with a certain Holland boy.” You groaned aloud in embarrassment, and instantly noticed your mistake when you didn’t immediately correct her of you not having a crush on him.

Well, damn.

Carly’s smirk turned into more like a wicked grin, and you shrank away into your pillows as if you could disappear into them.

“Ha! I knew it! You know, you were so obvious that you liked him when he first introduced himself. Hearts basically swirled in your eyes like one of those cartoon characters.”

Your face was basically red at this point, and you felt too called out to even come up with a witty come-back.

“So” she trailed off mischievously, before winking at you and continuing her teasing rant.

“Whatcha think I should tell Mr. Holland about a certain little freshman’s crush?”

You gasped and jumped on her to cover her mouth as if she was going to announce to the entire city your current darkest secret.

“You wouldn’t dare!” you cried. Carly laughed wickedly at your growing despair from the lack of control of the conversation.

“You’re right, I wouldn’t. I am a strict follower of ‘Girl’s Code.’ Good thing Ava isn’t here, she tends to babble everything to her beloved boyfriend of hers, who most certainly shares things with said crush of yours.”

You felt your eyes flutter shut in slight reassurance that your new little crush wasn’t going to be announced to anyone. Thank goodness Carly was a genuine friend.

“Anyway, speaking of the Holland’s, Troy’s turning 16 next week and we are both invited to his party he’s hosting. But just to make you aware, his parents are a little. . .intense.”

You raised a brow.

“What do you mean, ‘intense?’” you questioned, slight worry wavering in your tone of voice.

“Well, Mr. and Mrs. Holland are a bit of the ‘stuck-up’ upperclassmen, and don’t exactly appreciate their sons meddling with us ‘lesser-folk.’ Not saying you’re lesser than them! I just mean-”

“I understand.” you sighed heavily. “Please don’t tell me that-”

“Not to worry! Vincent and Troy are nothing like their parents. In fact, I betcha that their parents know little-to-nothing about their kids! They were both raised by nannies or somethin. Doesn’t matter though. What does is that they are both the sweetest, and not to mention, the most polite men I have ever met. Actually, Vincent seems to have a bit of an ego–but other than that, they’re both great!”

You nodded at her words, processing them slowly and thinking hard about the new information.

Should you try to get with a boy who has (from what you gathered) silly (as in biassed-opinionated, and possibly sexist,) , stuck-up parents? You sighed heavily at the mental war, and smiled thankfully when a warming hand was placed on your shoulder to ease your growing inner-conflict.

“Hey old sport! No need for a mental breakdown! You can have one of those romantic relationships where you run off into the sunset from fear of the parents' judgement. Now I’m getting ideas for my own relationship–and I’m single!” She exclaimed, pure and utter joy in her voice. You giggled quietly and shook your head at her playfulness. You sometimes wished you had her ‘sweet-imagination.’

But now, the idea of running away was locked away in your brain.

+++

The day of Troy’s birthday-party was finally here. You, Carly and Ava were busy in their bedroom getting ready for the big event. You had learned two days prior that the Holland’s birthday parties were more along the lines of ‘balls,’ which made your mouth drop in astonishment. How wealthy was this family?

The dress code wasn’t too complicated, but wasn’t too low-budget friendly either. But being the living angel like always, Carly had a spare gown for you to wear and you couldn’t be more thankful for. Some mending was required on the dress to make sure it would fit your form correctly, but other than that, it was perfect.

It was a flowy, white gown that had blue lace embroidered on the sleeves, neck and waist. To say you fell in love (a second time) with the dress was an understatement.

After your small trio felt ready to leave, you both admired each other lovingly and shared some supporting compliments to one another to share the ‘confidence.’

“Damn girl! Vincent is going to trip over himself when he sees you walking in! A literal goddess is among us!” Carly said teasingly, and her sister verbally agreed happily, to which you blushed at thankfully.

The drive to the Holland Home wasn’t too long, and you gasped aloud when you spotted how large the house was.

You knew the Hollands were rich, but not that rich.

“What does Mr. Holland even do to get this much money?” You asked, your eyes widened in disbelief of the large town-house that towered over you and your friends.

“Mostly inheritance I believe. But their father is a TV show host or something. A lot of money comes from that, I bet.” Ava answered nonchalantly, to which you nodded in response.

You eventually found yourself in a ballroom-like area, and found that there were many sophisticated looking couples already dancing around with each other. There was even a live orchestra? What the fuck?!

Your eyes were close to falling out of your skull from how wide they were, but your internal admiration for the fashionable house was interrupted when Ava announced she was going to look for her boyfriend. Carly waved her off with some sort of remark about how ‘love-sick’ she was, before kissing her cheek and joining your side.

“So, whatcha thinking so hard about? Your face tenses up when you're having a mental spiral.” Carly said rather casually. Your eyes widened a little when you realised how easy you were to read.

“I’m just admiring the view. It’s not often when you’re in an upperclassmen’s house.”

“Well, if all works out for you, you could be living in this house.”

You gasped at your friend's comment, and felt your cheeks redden instantly.

“Carly Burns! You can’t say things like that!”

She laughed loudly, and drew some attention from minglers that were standing near to you. You awkwardly smiled at one couple, when their eyes narrowed at you suspiciously.

“Sorry, I couldn’t help myself! It’s just too easy.”

“What’s too easy?” a familiar voice interrupts.

Well, speak of the devil and he shall appear.

“Hey, Vincent! How are you? Quite the party you have going on!” Carly said, forcing a more serious expression on her face, even though she was rather close to bursting into laughter.

You wished sometimes she wasn’t so ‘golden-retriever’ like in moments like this.

“I’m alright, Carly. And yes, it is a very extensive party, isn’t it?” He said, looking at you to see if you would agree with him.

Aww, he wanted your input on things, how cute.

Your cheeks were burning again.

You need to get a hold of yourself.

“Eh heh, hey.” you waved at him awkwardly, but smiled a bit more when he waved back with a smirk gracing his handsome face.

“Hey there, Miss Shyness! Glad to see you made it!” he practically beamed at you, and you felt your face burn even more from his soft gaze.

“I’ll leave you both to it! And Vincent,” Carly motioned him over to her, and he inched a bit closer to her side so she could whisper something in his ear. From the way his cheeks reddened a little, you could tell she said something that embarrassed him.

Eventually, she skipped off to find someone else to bother, and you were left all alone with (the love of your life) friend. A beat passed, and the silence was interrupted when he reached out a hand to you to take.

“May I have this dance, Miss Shyness?” He asked with a dramatic bow. Wow, how gentlemen like of him. You giggled mentally.

But you felt your blood run cold a bit when you fully processed his words. You didn’t know how to dance, especially for an event like this!

“What’s wrong? You don’t have to if you don’t want to.” He answered, sounding a little bit disappointed in your indirect ‘rejection.’

“It’s not that I don’t want to. I really do. I just don’t know how to dance.” you answered truthfully, waiting for the possible rejection of him learning of the inconvenience.

“Remember what I told you a week or so ago?”

You searched your brain, but couldn’t find anything from your past interactions involving dancing.

“I said,” he continued when he noticed your hesitation, “that there’s a first time for everything.”

Your eyes widened when the memory came back to you, and you felt your lips curl into a small smile.

“I’ll be honest with you, but I’m not that much of a good dancer myself, but we can still learn together. Please?” He held his hand out to you again to take, and you swore your heart was close to bursting out of your chest.

You took his outstretched hand, and shivered slightly at his warm and inviting touch. You looked up and noticed he was already looking at you and smiling brightly.

What a handsome young man.

“C’mon, let’s go to a more quiet area.” He began to lead you through the crowd, and you raised your brow when you realised he was leading you to double-doors, which you assumed led to a garden outside.

“When you said ‘more quiet,’ I thought you meant a less crowded area.” You stated when you ventured out into a very-well kept garden. Vincent smiled at your words but continued to lead you down a path that had roses planted on the sides.

“Nope. I meant it for real. Nobody can disturb our little ‘practise’ out here. Especially my…parents.” He trailed off a bit when he mentioned his overruling parents.

The butterflies were back, but this time, ten-fold.

Vincent once again noticed your hesitation, and took it as you being uncomfortable.

“Hey, if you don’t want to be outside with only me, we could go back-”

“No!” You cut him off, and your eyes widened at your own little outburst. Vincent didn’t seem fazed however, and took that as a que to grab onto your waist and pull you in closer to him.

Your blush intensified, and you were sure he noticed it now, and was thankful he didn’t call attention to it. He began to lead you in a simple two-step dance, and thankfully, no toes were stepped on yet.

After a small pause of silence, Vincent spoke up to you again.

“You look very lovely tonight.” He said softly. You looked up from the ground and made eye-contact with him. He had a soft smile etched onto his face, and you could feel your heart skip a beat from it.

“T-thank you. You look quite dashing yourself, Vincent.” You stumbled on your words bashfully, but he paid no mind to your shyness, and in fact, found it quite cute.

“Of course. I spare no compliments with people I think are worth receiving.”

Your brow raised in slight confusion of his words, and he seemed to take that as you not appreciating his choice of language and he immediately back-tracked on himself.

“Sorry! That came out more rude than I meant! What I meant to say was a lot of people etch for compliments even though they don’t exactly deserve them. You are different. I-I. . .” his confidence seemed to dissipate immediately and it was amusing to you how you made him get nervous just from a simple expression.

His hands dropped from his waist and he brought them up to his face to cover his eyes in embarrassment. He groaned in self-pity and was inwardly begging for you not to view him differently after his little ‘word mix-up’.

You brought your hands up to his and pulled them from his face slowly. His eyes widened a bit when you both made eye-contact again. You smiled shyly at him, and his familiar smirk returned back.

“You are such a dork, Vincent.” You said with a flirtatious tilt of your head. You batted your lashes at him and he visibly gulped at your action.

“O-only for you.” He said softly, to which your eyes widened in shock.

“W-what?” Your voice wavered with curiosity of his words.

Your question was answered when his hands reached up to your chin and pulled you into a deep kiss.

Your eyes widened in shock–you were kissing the Vincent Holland. Holy fucking shit.

Your eyes fluttered closed, and you reached your hands up into his hair and tangled them into his locks. He hummed lovingly into the kiss when you pulled on them lightly. Feeling a little too confident, he opened his mouth to leave an open mouth kiss on your lips, before he bit down a little too hard on your bottom lip. You groaned softly to the slight pain, but it was immediately forgotten when he sucked on your lip to ease the bite.

“Vincent Holland, what the hell are you doing?!” a female voice shrieked, causing you and Vincent to immediately pull away from one another.

You both turned around and noticed a middle-aged woman in a deep-green dress standing there with her arms on her hips. And what a face she was making.

“M-mother, what a pleasant surprise?” Vincent awkwardly asked. His mother apparently didn’t like the answer and stomped over to and pulled him away from you.

“Why are you here spoiling your innocence with what looks like a lower-class girl!? Are you out of your damn mind?!” His mother screeched. You felt tears weld up in your eyes from the lack of care for your presence. How the fuck dare she treat you AND her son like this?

“Mother! You can’t say things like that!” Vincent yelled back, before he grabbed your hand and protectively hid you behind him.

“You’re an absolute disgrace to our family name if you decide to defend the girl!”

“I. Don’t. Care! This girl has shown more appreciation for my existence than YOU have in the past 17 years of my life!”

His moms mouth hung open in shock of her son's blatant disrespect of her ‘views.’ After a very tense beat of silence, she raised a hand as if she was about to hit her son, before she decided against it and brought it back to her hips.

“You have two choices here, Vincent, and I hope you choose wisely.” Vincent’s eyes narrowed on his mother, before he nodded his head to urge her to continue.

“You either drop the girl and keep a good view on our family name, or you go with the girl, and you're disowned and no longer recognised as our son.” Her features darkened as if she knew he would choose the first option and get her way. But the evil smirk she had going on dropped instantly when he backed away from her towards you.

“Why would I ever choose to be associated with you? You’re a psychopathic freak, and I’ll be damned if you get in the way of who I wish to be with! So I choose the second option, and I’ll be on my way now. Good-bye, Bonnie Holland.”

And like that, he reached down and grabbed your hand securely, and led you out towards a back gate that led onto the busy streets of his neighbourhood.

What the fuck just happened?

Your face was still wet from your tears from the old hag’s ruthless insults and loveless verbal abuse towards her son. How does he deal with it?

You both continued to walk down the paved sidewalk that eventually led out to the busy streets, and you were sure Vincent could feel the sadness emanating from you in strong waves.

“I’m so sorry about that, doll. I wished you didn’t have to witness my psychotic mother’s temper.” He said, his voice wavering from equal dismay. You held back more tears from falling, and stopped walking to pull him into a loving embrace. He was stiff at first from the sudden intimate contact, but he eventually wrapped his own arms around you tightly. You raised yourself up a bit to give him a kiss on the cheek, to which he smiled at you for gratefully.

After your peaceful embrace ended, you attempted to lighten up the mood to invite him over to your own home.

“You hungry? I bet my mom has something we can chomp on left over at my ‘humble abode.’”

A small smile crept back on his face, and he nodded eagerly.

“I would love nothing more.”

Hand-in-hand, you both continued on your trek back to your home, giggling at each other happily.

Young love was truly magical.

#x reader #x y/n #vox x reader #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin vox x reader #fem!reader #hazbin hotel vox #hazbin hotel #vox hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin #IWAFY #IWAFY AU

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fetching-sketching · 3 months

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long-ass post ahead so i'll put it under a cut but basically this is a ninjago superhero au with drawings explaining stuff because i couldn't get it out of my head ok lets go

it's kind of a fusion between regular ninjago, movie ninjago and superhero elements. the ninja work as a protective force of ninjago city and are in some sort of superhero training program where the dr kids are the underclassmen and some of the other realms are basically rival training programs. the main six ninja are essentially on a work study (the costume designs are very first pass here, i just wanted to get ideas onto a page and i'll work on them from there).

we'll start with zane since he was the first one i drew. when he activates his power it slows time down for him and speeds up his cognition, so he's essentially moving at 2x speed and thinking at 4x speed compared to everyone else. he can't activate it for long, however, because it very rapidly drains his body heat. his costume is designed to keep him warm and there's heating pads in the coat he can turn on and off. he's the best guy for time-critical crisis situations, but he can hold his own in a fight, too.

next is nya! she can turn her body into water, fully or partially. when she's in full water mode, she can travel through regular water as well. one of her signature moves is turning a single arm into a water whip. she also uses her water form to evade attacks as well. her suit is pretty similar to that of a scuba suit for ease of transporting and getting back into her suit when she goes in and out of her water form. she can't control water that isn't 'her', but she can move it around if that makes sense? like how we can move water with are hands but if our hands were also water. anyways she mainly works around the shoreline but can help in a lot of other situations as well. her favorite trick is instead of taking the stairs, she'll jump from a roof and turn into water before she hits the ground so she doesn't get hurt. (i'm not the most pleased with her suit since it is basically just a scuba suit, so i'll revise it to something more interesting).

onto lloyd! he can draw energy from any living thing and turn it into an energy blast. it's really simple, almost a bit too simple so i'm more open to changing it in the future. idk, if it works it works i guess. he can draw energy from things other than himself but he's paranoid of hurting others so he strictly draws energy from himself. he can blast the energy like he does in the show or he pop it when he's still holding it to maneuver himself when he's in the air. with enough concentration he can even double jump. he's kind of a generalist, working wherever he's needed, acting as a sort of comfort figure for people whenever they see him. i felt that if any of the ninja could have a costume reminiscent of their show gi, it would be lloyd.

jay's turn! whenever he generates static electricity, he stores it in his body until he releases it as a single bolt. the amount of electricity he can store is theoretically infinite, but he can only release the electricity all at once, so if he stores up too much its no bueno. periodically throughout the day he has to release whatever he's built up, which is rather annoying. once he learns how to control his output it's over for everyone, he'll be unstoppable. he used to have his regular combover hair but when his powers came in it got all curly and wild. no amount of water, gel, or brushing can tame it. his powers come with a rather neat immunity to electricity. he's a generalist like lloyd, although he skews a little towards more fights than anything else. one time the local hospital lost power and he spent three hours powering the backup generators before they got the power up and running again. he hates it, but one of the fastest ways for him to build up a charge is to rub his hair with his gloves on. he thinks it makes him look stupid. he can have a stereotypical hero costume. as a treat.

kai's turn! his is pretty basic too, but i feel like it fits him. he can light himself on fire. that's pretty much it. once the fire catches on something that isn't him he can't control it anymore, so he has to be careful about it. he has a flamethrower he uses mainly for combat, so he doesn't always go out with it on. the most useful part of his power is his immunity to fire and heat, so he responds to a lot of fire calls. however, he's not immune to smoke, so he keeps a face mask in his pack with him to combat that. since breathing fire is more of a european dragon thing rather than an eastern dragon thing, he has some knight elements in his costuming as well. tbh i'm not sure if i'm gonna keep it, ninjago is obviously very eastern-inspired and there's probably other motifs i could explore rather than medieval knight, but it was the first idea that came to mind and my main goal, again, was just to put pen to paper and get stuff down.

last and most certainly not least is cole! he can cover himself in a rocky outer skin, where the strength and durability of whatever areas that are covered are boosted. currently, he can't cover much of his body, his maximum is just about enough to completely cover both of his arms, but he's working on upping the amount. he works a lot of disaster situations, such earhtquakes, building collapsses, and other similar situations. his costume is based a lot on early 20th century mining uniforms, and same as nya it doesn't offer a lot more, so i'll do more with it in further revisions. cole is the one i've thought the most about with the story. his mother was a very well-known hero who protected ninjago city as well, but she sustained and eventually succumbed to an injury she sustained on the field. cole wants to follow her footsteps, but lou is pretty opposed to him going into the same field that killed his mother. he's being allowed to do the work study, but just barely, and it's an unspoken rule that lou will pull him from the work study if he gets injured whatsoever.

obviously i'm still working out a lot of the kinks but the powers, which are the most interesting part to me, are pretty much done and dusted! i have so many characters thought out you wouldn't believe. pixal and morro should be next, but after that i'm not sure. lmk if there's any specific character you wanna see done next because chances are i've thought them through!

#ninjago #lego ninjago #ninjago zane #ninjago nya #lloyd garmadon #jay walker #ninjago kai #ninjago cole #ninjago.supe.au #art #fetch's art

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bigfrozenfan · 7 months

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10-year-old mystery finally solved

One of the biggest riddles of Disney Frozen is how the choir gets up to the gallery. Nowhere in the movie is an entrance to the gallery or an access of any kind to be seen. All we see during Elsa's coronation scene is a completely open construction of the chapel, but there are twelve singers above the altar. How do they get there? Many fans have wondered how this is possible for ten years of Frozen's existence and everyone has puzzled over it. Even in books and comics, not a single clue is given and, stupidly, nowhere can you see the back of the chapel, i.e. from the west. Not even in Mindcraft designs is this side more clearly visible, which proves that the fans have no idea. However, there is Disney concept art and two, almost identical books about Arendelle Castle. The latter is clearly intended for children, but even there you can see the beginnings of a solution to the problem.

I myself was at a loss until yesterday, when I suddenly realised something while downloading screenshots and concept art. And tada!, suddenly everything was completely simple and logical. I could hardly believe it. You're probably asking yourselves now, "So how does that work? I don't believe anything without proof!" No problem. Let's go!

But first I'd like to show you my initial approach - until it turned out to be rubbish and couldn't work at all because of the open construction, no matter how you twist and turn it. Maybe you've already got there yourself.

Then I looked at the concept art of the chapel from the outside and the floor plan. Suddenly everything was clear to me and it made perfect sense. The only thing that didn't quite fit is the illustration in the book "All Around Arendelle" and the almost identical book "A Frozen World". There, the lower windows of the chapel are not shown, which can be seen in the concept art and round off the picture - also to the original model, St Olaf Church! But hey, it's a children's book and, in my opinion, the only incorrect depiction of the actual situation.

Here is the final proof:

Some side thoughts:

it makes no sense whatsoever to see a ladder or stairs in the church. It also makes no sense for something like this to be brought in from outside before every service.

a permanently installed staircase, but invisible to churchgoers, makes much more sense. But it must be easily accessible for the choir singers who a) want to rehearse independently of church services and b) do not enter the chapel at the same time as churchgoers. They arrive in their everyday clothes perhaps half an hour early and only need to put on their robes, which are c) always ready for them in a locked room behind the altar.

The entrance is well hidden behind the altar screen, and it is very likely that this door is even wallpapered in the style of the immediate surroundings, so it can withstand a casual glance from a curious person. In the room behind it, there is either a ladder to the gallery or - more likely - a permanently installed, narrow staircase leading to a hatch in the gallery. The singers' robes are always hanging ready for changing and the hatch at the top is there so that none of the singers accidentally tumble down the steps when closed. The stained glass windows around the small room also let in enough light for the singers to get changed in daylight without being seen, to talk face to face before the service and to get into the right mood with the coloured light from this type of window. There is another good reason for having a room separate from the church. The pastor or bishop can prepare there in peace, store things for the sermon and talk to the choristers undisturbed. I'm sure there are other reasons for such a room that I just can't think of right now, but you can certainly think of them yourselves.

This is how it would look like if the tapestry wall wouldn't be there:

PS: the only thing I haven't been able to solve yet is how to get up into the bell tower. There is a staircase that leads nowhere and no rope to ring the bell. Very strange… But on the real model, St Olaf's Church in Norway, you can see a ladder leading up to the bell tower.

Credits to: Art of Animation for the concept art images, and to GETTY images, David Nikel (for Forbes), Visitnorway.com for the images of St. Olaf Church in Balestrand, Norway.

Here are a few more pictures of St Olaf's Church in Balestrand, Norway, for those of you who are interested:

UPDATE 04/2024:

I stumbled upon a screencap from Frozen Fever where you can clearly see the rear left side of the chapel. And there are windows to be seen! I would say: because it's not only a part of the concept art but is seen in the Frozen Fever short too, my theory is confirmed now.

#frozen #analysis #choir mystery in the royal chapel #finally solved #my idea and edits

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lazydoodlesandfanfic · 2 years

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More Than An Intern (Tony Stark X Daughter!Reader) *PARENTAL

Characters: Tony Stark X Daughter!Reader

Universe: Marvel, Avengers

Warnings: Mention of drug addiction, child abandonment

Request: Imagine: Tony has a daughter in a one night stand when he's 21. He doesn't know of the kid's existence. Mom has post-partum depression, struggles financially, becomes an addict and sells the baby to random guy (he works for Hydra and knows that the kid is Tony's-It's an extension of Project Insight and they wanna train people with brilliant ppl DNA). Around Ironman 1 and 2, she gets inside Stark Industries as an intelligent intern and Natasha catches her spying and the rest is left to you. 😊

The silence in the stairway where you were sat against the wall between floors was deafening, so quiet that you were certain that if someone was to step into it they’d hear your heartbeat from the top floor. You could definitely hear it, so loud that it was like standing beside a speaker at a concert, but you tried to act calm and collected like any other day, hunched over your phone, a half eaten sandwich in hand, like you did every other day in this internship that you had been working for the past 3 months.

Nothing to raise suspicion. Nothing to make anyone think you were up to anything. Nothing to make anyone think you’re a spy.

You weren’t entirely sure why you were so nervous about this. You’d done similar things before in the past despite your age, but this was a much larger project for you. You were stealing weapon blueprints and plans from one of the greatest minds and also in one of the most secure buildings you’d ever seen. Normally you would be able to do a simple sneak in and out within an hour, but you quickly realised that this would be a case of sneaking in, hiding in plain sight, not raising suspicion, gaining their trust, gathering the intel, and then sticking around a while afterwards instead of booking it to maintain that trust and also to get them off your scent and tie up any loose ends if needs be. You couldn’t mess this up. They’d kill you.

After finishing your sandwich, you checked the clock on your phone, having memorised the routine of those who use the lab just down those stairs, and knew it would be empty now. You packed your things up, before heading down the steps, going through the door at the end and into the hallway. You tried not to look around too much, instead heading straight to the lab door, going on your phone, and after clicking a few buttons you glanced up at the camera in the corner of the room, seeing it power down, before you walked to the door, finding it unlocked and letting yourself in. You wasted no time in searching the space quickly for anything important, not wanting to focus your time on something and as your leaving realise you’d missed something even more valuable. You spotted Tony’s desk as well as some of his suits in the corner in the midsts of construction and repairs. Seeing no cabinets, you walked over to the desk looking over everything on the table- papers, blueprints, and the interface instead of computer. Unfortunately for you, you knew that to get in you’d have to temporarily disengage JARVIS to get inside unnoticed, so that was down, so you were relying on the physical copies, which luckily it seemed that Tony had out- usually to show to the ‘old people’ like Mr Rogers and the God who you kept away from. You looked over the papers, not moving any of them, just looking for anything of importance. You saw design ideas for his suits, suits that didn’t exist yet, designs for their unique abilities- notably weapons that fit in your hand. Bingo.

“What’cha doing?” The voice made you jump a little, eyes shooting up to the door of the lab, seeing a familiar red head leant against it with a smirk, arms crossed. You of course knew who she was- Natasha Romanoff, one of the most deadly assassins in the word, and she just caught you somewhere where you didn’t have clearance.

“Oh- I’m so sorry- I was looking for Mr Stark. My clearance pass keeps messing up and my supervisor didn’t know how to fix it so I hoped he’d be able to…” You switched to the personality you’d perfected the last 3 months, a shy, anxious, fly on the wall girl fresh out of college, eager to learn and a goody-two-shoes… okay some of those traits might have already been yours, but it just selled the character. “And now I’m saying it aloud I realise that’s… stupid. Sorry. I’ll go.” You tried to excuse, but as you went to rush out embarrassed, she stepped in front of you, making you halt. She glared down at you, and you shrunk into yourself. “I’m really sorry, I won’t come in here again, I promise.” She raised an eyebrow at you, before grabbing your arm, pulling it out, showing her your phone, and she plucked it from your hand. She removed the case off the back, turning it over, showing the small chip on the back- a small tracking device that also sent all info on the phone to another location. HYDRA. You were anxious before, but the second her eyes landed on the chip, it vanished. You’d failed your mission, and now it was a lose- lose situation, all options probably ending in you tortured or dead, or both. Now, you were terrified.

Her eyes came back up to meet yours, and it felt like she was reading you like a book, dissecting you piece by piece. She knew your name was fake, your background fake, your credentials fake.The person she’d seen around the tower didn’t exist, and now she was piecing together who you really were. A Hydra agent. A young one at that- she thought you looked a bit young for 23, but clearly had at least some decent skills to have snuck under her nose and get past Tony’s security checks for months. “Are you going to co-operate?” She inquired.

“I don’t have a choice.” You huffed, dropping the act. The red head grabbed your arm, leading you out of the lab and to the elevator, taking you up to the floor where the meeting rooms were (why Tony needed more than one you never knew), shoving you into one of them, sitting you down in one of the chairs. “JARVIS?” She called, hoping that the AI would still be working here.

“How may I be of assistance Miss Romanoff? I am aware that I seem to have lost connection to Mr Stark’s lab-”

“I’m also aware of that. Please let Mr Stark know immediately that I’ve caught an undercover agent in his lab- that was why you’ve been locked out.” Natasha interrupted the AI, not wanting to waste any time. “I’m keeping her in one of the meeting rooms.”

“Of course Miss Romanoff.” The AI responded. You slumped into your seat, chin resting on your chest as you kept your eyes on Natasha who guarded the door to ensure you didn’t make a run for it, and it wasn’t long till you could see Tony Stark through the glass walls of the room, and he looked back at you as he came into the room.

“So, who’s this little troublemaker, Romanoff?” Tony asked her as she shut the door behind him and locked the door.

“Undercover agent, probably HYDRA, it’s their usual style, though I think this one has been here a while… JARVIS?” Natasha called again.

“Our files say she’s been working here for 3 months. I’ve done a deeper background check on her files and it seems she does not exist, and is using a fake identity.” JARVIS answered. Your eyes were kept on Natasha after Tony entered the room- she was the deadly one, one of the main ones they had warned you about, and your eyes were focussed on her so closely you didn’t spot Tony stalking closer till he stepped in front of you, blocking your line of sight on the woman, and squatting down in front of you. In that moment, your fear of Natasha seemed to diminish as Tony looked at you like a disapproving parent or something. You felt almost ashamed. Almost.

“What’s your name? Your real name?” He asked you. You paused, not answering him. “Don’t make this difficult. If you cooperate then we-”

“Are you going to kill me?” You asked, interrupting him. Your question seemed to catch him off guard as he straightened his posture a little, blinking a bit.

“No. Of course not.” He spoke confidently, but also bewildered, which gave you some comfort that he was probably telling you the truth. “Is that what they told you? That if you failed this mission they put you on you’d be killed by us?”

“Or them… You caught me, if they find out they’ll kill me.” You spoke lowly and oddly calmly despite how terrifying that thought was.

“Were you in the Red Room?” Natasha inquired to you. It was something she remembered being told when she went on missions before she graduated, a way to control her and the others, and it seemed to line up with your age, but you shook your head. “How long have you worked for HYDRA?” She asked instead, and she caught you swallowing in response.

“Better question, how old are you?” Tony asked. “I’m not sure if you have a baby face or if you’re actually a child.”

“I’m not a kid.” You huffed.

“That’s something a kid would say. More specifically a teen.” He responded. “Especially a teen who’s close to no longer being one and wants to be seen as an adult. 16? 17?” He questioned, and when your eyes averted at the second guess, he knew he hit the jackpot. He knew from his own guessing that you were a kid, but to actually confirm it seemed to light something inside of him, a sort of despair and fury. You were a kid, a kid with training that would have taken years, and the brainwashing they’d ingrained in you to make you think they’d kill you is something they’d have to have put into your head at a young age. So young you knew nothing of the outside world. “Do you know anything other than HYDRA? Parents? Siblings?” He asked far more softly, tilting his head a little.

“...I had a mom. She gave me to them.” You answered him in barely a whisper.

“How old were you when she did that?” He asked, getting a shrug in response. “So young. Really young, probably younger than 4, maybe a baby or a toddler?” He asked, and you nodded. Your sudden willingness to respond to his questions didn’t go unnoticed, and Tony knew he had unlocked a way to get you to open up- softness and kindness, something you probably hadn’t seen… ever. “Do you know what her name was? Or what she called you?” He asked.

“I don’t know her name, but HYDRA called me Y/N, so I think that’s my name.” You answered him.

“Alright. I really want to find out more about you so I can help you, okay? Would you be okay if we get Dr Banner here so he can get a few swabs and maybe some blood to try and find out more about you? Who knows, maybe you have some siblings or some grandparents wondering where their granddaughter is and we can give you a fake name and you can start afresh, alright?” He suggested to you, and when he didn’t get a disagreement, he turned to Natasha, standing up. “Let’s up security to ensure she’s safe.”

The next couple of hours were admittedly quite boring. You were placed into a holding cell, searched for other weapons or technology, Dr Banner came, took some swabs from your mouth and some blood, and Natasha quizzed you about your entire time under HYDRA, what you had worked on prior, names you remembered and the sort of thing they put you through. Admittedly, you weren’t very talkative with her- she was quite stern and cold with you, and you were expecting that as soon as she got her answers she’d just put a bullet between your eyes, which was why you purposely kept some of your own information from her. Inevitably she gave up and left you be, and after another half an hour of boredom, you tried to get comfy, eventually finding yourself resting your head on the cold table in front of you, and closing your eyes, drifting uncomfortably between sleep and enough conscious to know when someone was walking by your cell, and it was enough to know when the door opened. Your eyes opened, your head already turned to see the door, letting you see it was Tony stepping in, stopping when he saw your eyes on him, before he shut the door behind him and moved to sit down as well, and only then you raised your head to look at him. You noted the slip of paper in front of him, which was odd since he usually liked to keep things digitalised, though he took one glance at it before placing it face down so you couldn’t read it.

“Did you find anything?” You asked him, his eyes looking up to meet yours, and you immediately knew from the emotions swimming in them, he had. There was a heavy feeling of guilt emitting from him, weighing his eyes down and making it hard for him to meet yours, and you knew it wasn’t good news. “If it makes you feel any better, I have no memories of my life before HYDRA, so I have no emotional ties. I’m not gonna cry.” You tried to assure him, mostly hoping he’d just spit it out. He cleared his throat finally, leaning on the table, resting his arms on the piece of paper.

“You had a mother.” He started, and your mind immediately noted the past tense.

“Dead?”

“Complications due to drug use. A few years ago.” He confirmed. “She formed the addiction a few weeks or months after your birth- I got records of your birth, they gave her a blood test then and she was clean and healthy. It was probably Postpartum Depression that led her there, and after your birth there’s no trace of you, so you weren’t taken by social services, or reported missing…”

“So she handed me over to them? Is that what you’ve established?” You inquired, sticking to your word and not showing emotion, remaining calm and collected and cold, and Tony nodded, his eyes dropping again, the guilt he was emitting seeming to only weigh heavier.

“I knew her… your mom.” He admitted after a pause, still not looking up. “Before she had you, before she… I knew her when we were in university together. She was studying something else in a different building, I don’t remember what, I never really got to know her despite the fact that…” He seemed to catch himself before he said anything, shuffling in his seat, and his nervousness was starting to rub off on you as you shuffled in your own seat, crossing your arms against your chest, not sure what he was getting at. Did HYDRA know he knew your mother? If so, why did they send you to do this mission? Why does that matter?

“How is this relevant?” You asked him blankly.

“We were…” He seemed to stumble over his words, before he rethought the, and spoke again. “We were able to track down a paternal line as well, and that proved that you’re… mine.” He confirmed, and it was like there was a flick of a switch, and you felt the change both in the room and in your body. Ah. That was why he was so anxious all of a sudden. His eyes stayed on you, but remained quiet, waiting for a reaction, though you weren’t giving him much. Your expression barely changed, with no signs of shock or joy or sadness or anything, other than confusion, judging by your eyebrows coming closer together.

“That doesn’t make sense. Why would HYDRA send me to do a mission involving you if they knew we were father and daughter?” You asked him.

“I don’t think they knew. We don’t know what kind of detail your mom gave about your background before handing you to them, or if she even knew I was your father to begin with. But that doesn’t matter right now- what matters now is that you’re here, you’re safe, and you’re my top priority right now. I need to keep you hidden to the best of my ability until we can even convince HYDRA it’s a lost cause to go after you, or think you’re dead.”

“So, a safe house?”

“Exactly. I’ve got this little cabin on the edge of a lake that surrounded by woodland, little to no internet connection, it’s practically hidden from a birds eye view. I’ll up security there, but I’ll have it excused by me also being there as a sort of getaway with me and Pepper. That’ll also let us get to properly know each other, see where we stand, what you’re comfortable with and how involved you’d like me to be. If at the end of the time there you decide you want to go and do your own thing I understand, I’ll support you with whatever you want to do. If you want to go live in a tiny town in Wyoming then I’ll find you a nice place there and I’ll just want to keep tabs on you to ensure you’re safe. If you want to make up for lost time, go to college and live with us until you’re ready to go, then I’m happy with that.” He explained, almost rambling in nature, but it brought a faint smile, but a smile none the less to your face.

“Thank you.” You interrupted him, making him stop, and relax a little and smile back.

Hope you like it! If you have any questions, please send them in!

*Not my gif

TAGS: @klanceiscannon14 @marvelhoeingismyhobby-blog @bellamyblakemorley @dummiesshort @freyathehuntress @abbybills22-blog @mutantjediavenger @theoraekensnotsosecretlover @alicedanganh @sleutherclaw @sleepy-coffee-bean @stawwpp @courtneychicken @graysonmalfoy @bellero @originalpottervengerlock @supernatural-pan @esoltis280 @lady-of-lies @lenaswritingandstuff @macbetheliza @mandywholock1980 @cdwmtjb8 @caswinchester2000 @determinedpines @huntheimpossible @automaticbakeryfreakshoe

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trashbag-baby666 · 4 months

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Your Blood is Washed Away and all you did will be Undone-Clegan Casper fd au

Dedicated to @umika :3

Summary: John knows exactly how to get Gale to relax after a long day.

WC: 1,060

C/W: Brief mentions of blood (Gale talking about his workday)

mota masterlist! | ao3 link

Gale’s glasses rested on the bridge of his nose, the laptop screen In front of him reflecting off. He stared blankly at the electricity bill to keep himself, to keep himself a reason to not go up to bed. John would fall asleep and he’d be left with his wandering thoughts, unable to catch a single moment of peaceful sleep.

Today, there had been multiple people airlifted to the hospital after a particularly nasty bus crash. The ER had been packed, every bed full. Gale ran rampant through the open space, swishing curtains back to ask questions or hold a bloodied wad of gauze to someone while they nearly bled out on him.

His thoughts came to a stop as he felt Scooby’s wet nose nuzzling at his elbow. It wasn’t just John who wanted to come to bed, even their great dance was pleading with his dad to come lay down.

“Will you come lay down if Scooby asks you?” John came down the stairs after reading Flynn her last bedtime story. Gale felt his warm hand rub a circle on the center of his back before resting on his shoulder, “What kinda business does the electricity bill have at nearly ten pm, Buck?”

“Just checking the finances.” Gale closed the tab and closed his laptop but remained seated at the breakfast bar. His head going down into his hands, his glasses being pushed up into his blonde locks as he rubbed his eyes.

“Your day still bothering you?” John rested his chin on the top of Gale's head wrapping his arms around him. Gale instinctively leaned into John’s warm touch, every part of him would never fail to provide comforting heat.

“No, I’m just tired.” Gale lied letting his glasses fall back into place, he crossed his arms over John’s holding the man’s muscular arms. His index finger begins to trace the winding vines and flowers down John’s left arm.

“Will you come up to bed?” He could feel the vibration of John’s voice against him. Scooby returns to nuzzling him and throwing in the occasional sigh and whine, “I’ll rub your back.”

That was enough for Gale to agree, he gingerly nodded. John set him free from his grasp, he stood up off the bar stool pushing it back in.

Gale folded the ear pieces of his glasses in and set them back in their designated case. He pulled off his shirt in one slick movement tossing it aside next to the bed. He tended to run cold at night and probably would put it back "Lay down," John instructed, grabbing their eucalyptus mint lotion from Gale's side of the vanity in the adjoining bathroom. Gale obeyed, letting Scooby find his spot sprawled at the end of the bed first. He stretched out horizontally, resting his cheek on his intertwined hands and closing his eyes. He felt John climb onto the bed, balancing his weight carefully on Gale's lower back and butt. "This alright, baby?"

Gale nodded silently, listening to the familiar sound of John squeezing the nearly empty lotion bottle. He made a mental note to watch for another sale at Bath and Body Works. As John’s warm hands began working circles into his lower back, Gale let his mind drift to the couples retreat they had attended last year. He had initially scoffed at the idea, but soon found himself in a beachside hut, lulled by the sound of waves and the salty breeze in his hair. The massage class had been particularly memorable. John's massages had always been pleasant but a little rough and karate choppy... Now, after the class, John’s touch was professional-grade, blending perfect pressure with soothing strokes.

As John’s hands moved up his back, Gale's tension melted away. He kept his breathing steady, savoring each moment, every touch, feeling an almost meditative peace wash over him. For a while, the harrowing events of the day faded, replaced by the simple, profound comfort of being loved.

“Talk to me, Buck,” John’s voice broke the silence, gentle yet insistent. “I know it was a rough day.”

Gale sighed, burying his face deeper into his hands. “It’s just… everything. The crash, the blood, the chaos. I can’t shake it off…feeling like my dads right.”

John's hands paused momentarily, then continued their soothing rhythm. “You don’t have to carry it all alone, you know. I’m here.”

Gale’s throat tightened, and he squeezed his eyes shut. “I know. It’s just hard. Sometimes it feels like if I let go for even a second, I’ll fall apart. Maybe he was right, John? I’ll end up just like him.”

John leaned down, his breath warm against Gale’s ear. “You know that’s not true, baby. You have so much to be proud of that you know he couldn’t even be bothered to do himself. You’re a doctor for pete's sake. So let me catch you. We’re a team, remember?”

The sincerity in John's words broke something open inside Gale. He turned his head slightly, looking up at John with glistening eyes. “I’m scared, John. Scared of what’s happening, scared of losing control.”

John’s face softened with understanding. He climbed off Gale’s back, lying down beside him and pulling him into a tight embrace. “It’s okay to be scared. But you don’t have to face it alone. I’ve got you.”

Gale felt the dam inside him break, tears spilling over as he clung to John. The weight of the day, the weeks, the months, seemed to pour out in those tears. John held him, whispering soothing words, his hands never ceasing their comforting touch. He knew it was healthy he was getting it out. It’s what he had worked on all these years in therapy.

“I love you,” John murmured, pressing a kiss to Gale’s temple. “And I’m not going anywhere and I assure you, you’re the best dad in the world.”

Gale nodded against John’s chest, his breathing slowly evening out. “I love you too,” he whispered back, the words a lifeline in the dark.

As they lay there, the room filled with a quiet, profound peace. Gale could feel the tension slipping away, replaced by the warmth of John’s presence and the steady beat of his heart. For the first time in what felt like forever, Gale allowed himself to truly relax, knowing he was safe, loved, and not alone.

- - Taglist: @austeenbootler @storysimp @executethyself35 @coastiewife465 @slowsweetlove Reply to be added to the Casper fd au tallest <3

#casper fd au #mota firehouse au #masters of the air #mota #john egan #gale cleven #bucky egan #buck cleven #clegan #theo writes #trashbag baby666 fics

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lili863 · 1 year

Text

HUNTED (PT 3)

DARK! Ominis (Dominis) x Y/N or MC

Warning: 18+, Mature, Nsfw, Minors DNI

An: Welp.. better late than never, I say.... ahaha...this is longest fic I ever fucking wrote Imma be honest. But! It has been an abosulute joy thanks to all the love it received ❤️ So whenever I write for Ominis (which is all the ducking time) I try to incorporate his personality as MUCH as possible. THIS is a Dominis fic. Meaning Ominis will NOT be a soft sub who whines..(not that there is anything wrong with that 😏) it's going to be this whole other side of him that I wanted to explore (he is a gaunt, after all). A side I know many people who write for him doesn't often like to incorporate maybe..because we all love him as the soft loveable boy who is a soft dom at best, so all I am saying its going to be a little different thats it.

Also, this fic is pure word vomit, and my pent-up sexual energy converted to a word doc. I am not nesseraliy a good smut writer, but I tried my best. I hope yall enjoy

MUCH LOVE ❤️

Part 1

Part 2

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The sound of your heavy breaths rung throughout the empty quiet halls as you ran harder then you ever did.

You didn't even have the energy to think about everything that just happened, including teaching paxton a lesson he wasn't going to forget. But that thought was certainly going to be revisited later.

As you raced through the empty corridors, your boots clacked loudly against the marble floors, and you could only hope you weren't causing too much commotion.

The urgency of this chase heightened with only 15 minutes left as you scrambled over flights of stairs, the passing halls blurring in your peripheral vision. When you reach a corner, a dead end loomed before you, with more stairs leading to a higher level on your right.

Your aching body turned to move towards the stairs when suddenly a mysterious brown, rusty door materialized at the end of the wall.

You froze, observing the door with wonder. You had walked these halls plenty of times, but you dont ever recall seeing a door like this.

Had you just missed it all this time?

The activities of your late night venture, however, soon caught up to you. Exausted, you had no choice but to seek refuge behind the door. As you approached, you noticed the intricate carving etched onto the knob, its design shrouded in mystery. Slowly turning the handle, you felt a sense of relief that it wasn’t locked. You couldn't run anymore. You needed to hide.

The creaking door opened, giving away to a dark, desolate room.

Your hands reached behind you, to feel for your wand when suddenly you pasued.

With a groan of frustration, you realized Ominis had took it which mean you were now wandless.

"Bollocks" you muttered.

As you looked upon the dark room once more, you quiekty debated if this was a good idea.

Especially in this castle-

Before you could finish the thought, your ears perked up at the sound of footsteps behind. Whipping around in a state of painc, your wide eyes faced a shadow moving towards you as it seemed to be heading fown the stairs you were about to go up to.

"Damn Sharp. Expecting me to patrol when those ungrateful brats can't even do a simple job-"

Your heart began to pick up at the sound of that voice.

It was the caretaker.

Well shit. Now you absolutely had no other choice.

You quietly stepped into the room before slowly closing the door, cringing at the slight creaks.

In the dark of the room, you waited behind the door, hearing his footsteps approach the door.

You held your breath,praying they go the other way and to your relief. All you heard were his grumbles of complaints before his footstpes became fainter down the hall.

A quiet sigh escaped your lips as you slowly turned around to face the room.

There had to be some torches here you could light up wandlessly.

To your relief, a circular window appeared at the end of the room, where the moonlit night graciously casted the room in an ominous glow.

Even if it did make the room look a little creepy, you were grateful for whatever light it provided.

Squinting your eyes, you scanned the room as best as you could when the edge of a table caught your eyes at your right where a bunch of books were stackted on top.

Perfect. There was probably a candle there you light up. You approached the table cautiously, feeling your way with your hands.

What you would give right now to have your wand with you.

As your fingers touched the wood, you noticed a collection of leather-bound books and some small candles besides them.

You took one of the metal holders, which supported the waxy stick, and proceeded to cast a small flame with the tip of your finger, instantly lighting up the dark little corner of the room.

The tall stack of books was the first thing that caught your eyes. It casted a shadow on the wall behind it, snatching your attention.

A singular book laid on the table besides the stacks as you held the candle near to it to give it some light. You ran your fingers over the carving on it which read, “A Muggle’s Guide to the Wizarding World.”

How intriguing.

A smile crossed your face at the sight of it. It seemed like it was written by someone who wasn’t a blood supremacist lunatic.

Perhaps youll take this book and read it later.

Turning around, the light began to touch other parts of the room as you walked in deeper.

With quiet steps you approached the other corner when suddenly, the light revealed what stood in front you.

Fuck"! You hollered in surprise.

Your body jumped back before your heart picked up again, seemingly getting no breaks today.

The candle you held almost spilled its hot waxy substance all over you before you steadied yourself.

The dim light revealed a horde of large statues shrouded in white, dusty cloths that looked like ghostly apparitions in the dark.

Shivers ran through you in waves at the chilling sight.

"Thats no creepy at all.."

Unfortunately, your sarcastic remark did nothing to lighten the mood as you stood still in their presence.

The faces of the statues were covered, but the sheet did nothing to mask their expressions, like a curse woven into the very fabric pressed upon their features, their horrifying expressions pierced through, most looking like they were stuck in constant torment, almost clawing at the sheets.

You could feel the air in the room take a turn to something much more sinister.

Your hand drew to press on your chest in an attempt to calm yourself as your mind urgently notified you to get out of this room this instant. Your eyes flew to the door, as it was your only exit out of here before rhey slowly made their way back to the unsettling visual in front of you.

There wasn't much time left to the game. If you could brave it out for 10 more minutes, all of this would be well worth it. At least that's what you tried to convince yourself with.

You inhaled a deep breath before turning around and walking away, opting to read that book you found earlier in an attempt to distrqct yourself when suddenly a creak behind you had you spinning around with a jolt.

Once again, your heart began to slam against your chest. Everything was still, and yet something just didn't feel right.

Furrowing your brows, you focused intently, trying to pinpoint the origin of that abrupt noise. Time seemed to stand still for a brief moment, a tense silence enveloping the surroundings.

You scoffed in disbelief and shut your eyes at the ridiculous situation. To say this night has been eventful would be the understatement of the century.

Another sigh forced its way out of your lips before you turned around without another look and began walking towards the table.

You grumbled now slightly annyoed at yourself. "Must you put yourself through this torture? Really? After everything you went through? And now here you are, scared of a couple of statues -"

Mid-sentence, your head snapped towards the object of your complaints, only to find the cloaked figure mere inches away from your face.

Time stood still for a fleeting second before a blood-curdling scream tore from your throat, echoing through the room as you stumbled backward, landing on the floor with a resounding thud.

The candle in your hand flew and shattered on the floor, your precious flame fizzing out immediately and shrouding you in the darkness of the room

“Fuck”! A curse unleased from your lips as you looked upom the looming figure standing over your body.

Panting violently, you crawled backward in desperation until your back collided with the table legs. Instinctively, your hand darted to your pocket, fumbling for the grip of your most precious object , before the blood drained from your face

Dread consumed you as you realized the bitter truth – you didn't have your wand. In the very moment of direst need, you found yourself utterly defenseless.

You wanted to curse Ominis, but your attention was consumed by the baffling proximity of the statue—how it had silently moved inches away from you."

Was this room enchanted? Were these statues sentient?!

Something was wrong here.

Amidst the rows of silent statues, a single figure emitted a bone-chilling groan, jolting you from your thoughts. Your eyes widened in terror as you watched the figure deliberately rotate towards you as if it were alive.

Your immediate thought was to flee, as your eyes darted between the door and the glostly figures seemingly waiting to just jump you, but it remained still and fixed its gaze on you, almost as if it was waiting for you to do something.

There was nothing in this room within your proximity or sight you could use to defend yourself with. You could only rely on the limited amount of wandless magic you knew but the only thing you could think of that could do some amount of damage was confringo, depulso or a bit of your ancient magic which you were still working on.

But even those spells weren't powerful enough without your wand. You weren't that advanced yet.

In a split moment of clarity, you huffed with vigor.

Fuck this!

Determined not to be trapped, you took a deep breath and hoisted yourself up wirh trembling legs and marched forward through the room, laser-focused on reaching the door.

But just as you neared your escape, it looked like your presence had bothered these figures more then they let on as all of them suddenly slid towards you, stopping abruptly in your path.

You gasped in terror, once again trapped as tears threatened to spill down your face. Quickly, you retreated yet again.

Maybe you had use these spells after all. You had no choice.

With adrenaline coursing through your veins, your hands shot forward, poised to unleash any magic you can conjure at anything obstructing your path. Every fiber of your being was focused on reaching that door, even if it meant fighting tooth and nail. Just as your incantation formed on your lips, three of the statues sprang to life and lunged at you agreesivly. Their unexpected movement left you with scant seconds to react, no time to conjure the protection you desperately needed.

As your body recoiled backward, on the verge of another embarrassing fall, a powerful force suddenly enveloped your waist, swiftly pulling you back while a protective arm flew to shield your eyes from the object of your fear. You jolted violently, your hands flying to grip the arms around you as a shriek tore from your throat.

Upon being trapped by this sudden presence, your mind instantly whipped up in a frenzy of panic and fear as you writhed violently against the figure with a sob.

Without your wand, you felt helpless, and this kind of surprise was hardly what you ever encountered in a fight.

"Arresto momentum."

Suddenly, all the chaos in the room seized before compelte silence ensued.

Your body froze after hearing the incantation before realization struck you like a bolt of lightening.

The figure shielding your eyes proceeded to push you head back against their shoulders, leaving you vulnerable and at their mercy.

With a heaving chest, your shaky hands drew up to your eyes feeling the long, cold fingers pressed against them gently.

At the touch, the figure leaned down, their warm breath caressed your neck.

"Game over".

You gasped. "...Ominis"?

"Did I scare you darling?"

His taunting voice cut through the air, a striking contrast to the chilling atmosphere of the room, eliciting a whimper from your trembling lips..

Both of you knew that question didn't need an answer because it was painfully obvious.

With a small chuckle, you felt his soft lips press a gentle kiss at the side of your neck before murmering into your skin. "They're not real love."

You slumped against the figure with heaving gasps as relief washed over you at the quick comprehension of what was going on.

The atmosphere seemed less haunting now, but that was likely because you swiftly grasped the identity of the mastermind behind the hell you just went through.

With a sharp intake, you twirled around in his arms and threw your arms around in his hold, hiding your cowardly face in the crook of his neck, relishing his comforting scent.

It was Ominis all along, just having a good fucking laugh, probably because you ditched him earlier with that deranged jerk.

But how he even managed to find you or sneak into this room was something you couldnt even comprehend.

Irregardless... you lost. Miserably.

You wanted to unleash your wrath, but right now, you had half a mind to scold Ominis for this rather cruel prank as the fear still gripped your body in a paralyzing hold.

He felt your trembling body pressed against his, a visceral realization that you sought his embrace after all that happened.

A few moments passed by as everything sunk in.

You came to him.

The young Gaunt eagerly encircled your waist, pulling you into him with as much restraint as possible while his other hand cradled the back of your head.

As dark as it was, Ominis couldn't help but feel a sinister pride swell within his chest at the choice of your actions.

At the end of the day, you belonged to him. Even if you didnt know it yet

Ominis felt the dark locs of your hair tickle his face before he inhaled your alluring scent, becoming comsumed by an overwhelming possessiveness.

He was aware of how popular you were at this school.

With a constant stream of admirers vying for your attention, it was hard to control the unhinged emotions clawing at his chest as the days went by.It took all his remaining control, not hurt Alexander Paxton

He got off way too easy. And what's worse was the fact that Ominis knew that there were others like him, scattered throughout the school, all harboring the hope of one day claiming you as their own.

But this time, he wasn't just going to listen to people talk about you as if they could have you.

They can't.

Perhaps next time, he'd blast them through a window or snap their wands in half. But one things for sure, they weren't going to get away with just a simple threat of explusion anymore.

And merlin he knew..he knew how wrong it was to think like this.

Yet, no matter how fervently Ominis tried to convince himself otherwise, he couldn't ignore the undeniable truth that he would stop at nothing, going beyond boundaries, to protect what was rightfully his.

The thought of anyone calling you their girlfriend or in the future - their wife somehow made him sick to his stomach.

The two of you held each other in silence in the dark of the room before his hands, once encircling your waist, ventured lower, their grip tightening on the bony contours of your hips.

A faint whimper slipped from your parted lips, stirred by the delicate sensation. The small knowing smile that tugged at the corner of his mouth was a response reserved solely for you, effortlessly coaxed forth by the mere sound of your voice.

Thats right.

Only he could hear you like this.

With a deft flick of his other hand, the statues began to move again, but this time out of your sight showcasing Ominis wandless prowess.

You tried not to gape at the effortlessness of his gesture, but it was quite hard not to be impressed, even if you knew Ominis had a an understated talent in magical capabilities that he so cleverly concealed behind a veil of modesty.

You felt the young gaunt's nimble fingers travel lower, coiling around the back of your neck and encircling your pulse point beneath your jugular.

He observed your pulse silently as a way to check if you were truly alright, which seemed to have calmed down a bit.

You sniffled before muttering "How are you even here? How did you find me"?

Ominis smiled softly, "I gave you my word, did I not?"

"So you just decided on a whim to scare the living lights out of me?" You frowned.

A breathy laugh escaped his lips. "All in good fun, dove. I must admit, I didn't anticipate you being so utterly terrified by a bunch of statues"

The embarrassment crawled at you yet again.

"Yeah, well, how would you feel if you were trapped in a dark room with these abominable looking creatures all out to suddenly get you"?! you exclaimed, feeling a surge of annyonace rising in you.

Ominis pressed his lips, almost looking like he was trying to suppress his amusement, which still shined through his cloudy eyes.

"Yeah, yeah, go on and have a good laugh. I cant believe you find this funny when you were the one who snatched my wand! In front of a prefect"!

You pulled away from him, glaring softly.

"You mean to tell me that an ancient magic weilder like you are completely defenless without a wand"? Ominis smiles, tugging a stray hair behind your ears.

"Darling, however, did you manage to defeat a whole rebellion?"

You frowned, ready to retort a response, but really..it was a valid question. Even without your wand, you should have been able to destroy that statue with the range of the magic you were capable of. But in the heat of the moment, your mind just drew a complete blank, which wasnt an excuse you were about to give to Ominis, with him knowing you have won hard fought battles with worst odds.

"Y-yeah well.."..

You sighed, your head falling on his chest in defeat.

"Not everyone is a master at wandless magic like Gaunt. Just...please dont tell Sebastian"..

Ominis couldn't help the playful smirk that appeared on his lips highly amused before sputtering out a laugh that echoed through the room.

With a scoff of disbelief, you rubbed your temples with a sigh, trying to suppress the small grin that eventually made its way to your lips.

Your heart throbbed at the melodic sound that dissolved your pissy mood in an instant.

"I am serious, okay, please?! Sebastian would never let me live this down-YOU are never going to let me live this down, are you"?! Your hands flew to his collars, rocking him with sob like groan. The highly amused slytherin chuckled as you whined desperately. "Ominis please"!

"I just find it fascinating how you're able to ram through dark wizards and goblins on a daily basis, and yet a bunch of statues managed to get the jump on you."

Rolling your eyes, you remark, "You will be surprised to know that fighting dark wizards and goblins is much easier since you can actually see them and not have them pop out of the dark at you"

The teasing grin on his face widened, "Well, I dont have that luxuary, and yet finding you wasn't really much of a challenge darling".

Ouch.

You grab him by the collars again with a glare, tugging him closer to your face.

"If I knew what an arrogant arse you were, I wouldn't have underestimated you like this"

With a breathy scoff, Ominis licked his lips as darted down to them.

"And yet it seems that's exactly what you did"

His retort silenced you, the truth of his words sinking in and extinguishing your anger as quickly as it had flared.

Gradually, you started to grasp the reality of your situation.

Ominis, ever observant, noticed your sudden quietude and playfully tapped his fingers against your hip, a smile playing on his lips, entertained by the gears that he can practically hear spinning in your head, trying to make sense of his unexpected presence here.

"You knew I had found you back there. Didnt you".

His sudden question hung in the air, catching you off guard.

Momentarily silent, you responded after, "....Yes. It was pretty hard to ignore how your unseeing eyes practically zeroed in on me. "

"And yet you went out of your to avoid me. We both knew I'd won your challenege already".

"I wasn't trying to avoid you" you muttered under your breath, which Ominis no doubt heard.

You felt a finger lift your chin to face him fully, a taunting smile on his lips.

"Liar".

You pulled away from his hold with a huff. Nothing was going right for this evening.

Ominis stood up straighter, now practically towering over you.

"Game wasnt over yet Gaunt. You still had to catch me".

Ominis didn't reply immediately. With a momentary pause, he stepped back and leisurely leaned against the table behind him, emitting a thoughtful hum.

"You know, perhaps I would have shown a bit more kindness tonight if you hadn't ditched me with that insuffeable twit before turning this torturous game of yours into a wild chase around the castle. But alas, it seems you enjoy testing my patience."

You chuckled quietly, making your way over to him with a smirk. "Ahhh.. I see you're still hung up on that"

Ominis scowled, a dangerous glint in his eyes as his features hardened at your teasing remark "You would be wise not to test me like this, even when it comes to you, my paitence still has its limits."

A finger smoothed over his silk green tie before grabbing it with a small tug.

Ominis seized you in response, pulling you forcefully towards him until your bodies collided.

Oh, how you loved this.

Times like this are the only chances you get to take peak at the manifestation of his other side. He always tried to hide, especially from you.

"And you should know...I would do it all over again just to see every little vein pop out of your pretty little neck".

The air surrounding the two of you dropped several degrees at your bold statment as you observed his face drop to something darker. It was the type of face Ominis had never shown even when the two fo fought. Suddenly, being so close his overwhelming presence started to suffocate you.

A throaty chuckle resonated in the air, but you knew he found this moment far from amusing.

"My suspicions are correct then. You love nothing more than to get on my nerves and see how I react. Is that it"?

Inhaling sharply, you instinctively pulled your face away, creating as much space as possible between you and Ominis. The sheer intensity of his gaze made you shrink back making you second-guess the wisdom of provoking him in such a way.

"You have some nerve darling..."

A chill of anticipation coursed down your back as Ominis leaned in.

Oh, you were really in for it now...

With a firm grasp on the back of your head, he pulled it back, exposing your neck for his view. The sensation wasn't painful, but it didn't feel gentle either.

Ominis leaned down, leaving open mouth kisses along the center of your throat, feeling the vibrations of the faint moans escaping your lips.

You hissed sharply, feeling the pinch of his sharp canines grazing your delicate skin before nipping it.

Ominis moaned lowly, feeling the small finches that racked your body with each each bite. His stomach turned in anticipation as your reqctions spurred him on.

You gripped his neck in retaliation, trying to endure the sweet pain as the flat part of his velvety tongue laved over the bruise with precision, soothing the ache. Ominis began to suck lightly, delighted in the way you squivered beneath him.

Forget a scarf... you might as well just not go to class tomorrow with how purple your neck probably looked.

In a swift motion, he seized the back of your thighs, effortlessly lifting you up.

You wrapped your thighs around his waist instinctively as he expertly maneuvered both of you, flipping you around until you found yourself seated on the table behind him.

As you held his shoulders for support, he took the opportunity to tug your core closer to where he needed you before delving deeper, his hips skillfully rolling against your drenched panties in a breathtaking rhythm.

A broken cry left your lips as you tried to clench your legs.

"W-wait.." You sighed breathlessly at the way his dominanating gestures had you at his mercy

Gripping your jaws, he bought your face closer to his until his soft lips were just ghosting over yours.

"Are you sure? You're the one who practically begged for this. "

You shivered, breathing him in not at all used to this kind of intimidating deamenor from him.

Those cloudy eyes pierced into you with a scrutinizing glare as his bulge pressed more forcefully against your core, grinding on it over and over again until you were shaking in his arms, a string of broken cries pushing past your lips.

"Ahhh...Ominis..please"..

You weren't even sure what you were pleading for. Your mind had turned to mush, consumed by the numbing pleasure Ominis relentlessly bestowed upon you.

The young gaunt released a throaty chuckle at you incoherent words as he pressed a kiss on your cheek, absolutely adoring the way you melted under him.

"Isn't this what you were hoping for all along?" Ominis murmerd into your cheek.

Any last shred of dignity left in you was far gone at this point as you nodded hopelessly.

You felt him smile into your cheeks before laughing softly "Your such a brat."

Your mouth agape, your eyes started to flutter at the dizzying rythm Ominis set, not even registering his words properly.

The wet, sticky substance drenching your panties smeared all over your thighs and onto his trousers.

Ominis could smell you already, his dick twitching and straining from the confinment.

For a moment, his fingers explored your face. Gliding over your cheeks before feeling your soft warm lips.

Hr didnt waste a second after before he surged forward and collided with them. Both of you instantly sighing at the sensation of one another

The kiss was firm and unyielding as his lips slid across yours to get a better feel of them as the world around soon faded into a blur.

You felt so soft and inviting, Ominis could practically feel the way your magical aura vibrated in air and dance around his.

Tilting your head, you deepened the kiss, urging your head further in his direction. It was as if Ominis had been patiently waiting for that final confirmation, and with a deliberate swipe of his tongue against your bottom lip, he claimed his dominance. A gasp escaped your lips as he invaded your mouth, pushing you back, leaving you no choice but to surrender.

You fought for control for a fleeting moment but soon lost to his vigor, allowing him to take complete possession.

His fingers drew up and pulled your chin down, widening your mouth to accommodate him fully, devouring you.

With ragged breaths, he tilted to get a better angle, exploring your mouth before brushing your tongue and flicking it with his.

You gasped as he sensually sucked on the tip of your tongue, eliciting a soft whimper that escaped into his mouth, which he eagerly swallowed.

The strange dominanating sensation had you tugging his hair hard, squeezing your eyes shut

Ominis grunted, inhaling you in as his fingers felt his way down to your bare thighs, giving the plump fles a firm squeeze.

You were quickly running out of air as you desperately tried to draw breath through your nose, yet Ominis showed no sign of relenting.

You tightened your grip on his hair, desperately yearning for a breath of air as you tried to pull away A pleading moan escaped you, and with one more harsh suck Reluctantly, Ominis withdrew, a primal groan rumbling from his throat, leaving a delicate thread of saliva briefly connecting your lips before it snapped, leaving you both gasping for air.

It wasn't long before Ominis leaned in to give you one more peck as his hand felt along the table where you sat and grabbed his wand.

Ominis abruptly turned around and casted a confringo spell at the fireplace behind you, catching you off guard. It became apparent that Ominis was more acquainted with the room than you, effortlessly knowing the precise location to direct his spell.

The fireplace flickered to life, illuminating the space, painting the walls with a soft, golden hue.The crackling flames burst forth its radiant heat, spreading like a comforting embrace.

"Stand up, my love," Ominis offered you a hand as you hopped off the table curiously.

With another flick of his wand, Ominis conjured the table into a huge soft mattress, levitating the stray books here and there to the other corner of the room.

You gaped before smiling softly, facing the syltherin, a devilish smile gracing his lips "Oh..you've thought about this, didn't you? Us. Entangled in bed"?

Ominis tossed his wand to the far side of the mattress with a mischevious glint to match running his hands along your hips, "Allow me to demonstrate exactly what I had in mind."

The shirt tucked in the waist band of your skirt flew out, with his deft hands quickly unbuttoning your shirt. The fabric slipped off your shoulders as the soft pressure of his hands guided you down onto the mattress.

Ominis couldn't wait another second. He wanted to feel you. He wanted to taste you.

The pale skinned male knelt on his knees in front of your form before tracing his hands up to your thighs to your knees, pleased to feel your legs spread apart for him obediently.

You watched him crawl and settle in between your legs, feeling your heart ram against your chest violently.

His fingers traced down your collarbone over the soft mound of your breast before clicking his to tongue in dispeleasure at the article of clothing covering them.

"I want these off".

You didnt miss the command evident in his tone.

Long pale fingers traced up the strap of your bra before hooking underneath and tugging them down your chest, relasing your perked nipples from their confinment.

Quickly figuring out the mechanism, he snapped the metal clasp at the back and tossed it somewhere in the room.

Finally, he felt the soft flesh your breasts, a sigh of content escaping his lips.

They're softer then Ominis had imagined. And so smooth.

You grabbed his wrists, flinching when the palms of his hand rubbed your peaks.

Ever observant, Ominis paused before grabbing your breasts and flicking the peaks with his thumbs repeatedly, smirking at the small noises escaping your lips.

"Merlin..your so soft...promise me you'll let me sleep on them after this"

His teasing remark had you giggle shyly, struggling not to cover your face in embarrassment.

Ominis couldnt wait for your reply as his hot, warm mouth encased your nipple brushing it his tongue, rolling the senerive nub between his teeth.

"Ooh..." your head rolled back as Ominis sucked with enough pressure that had sent waves of pleasure washing over you.

He kneaded your other breast as the throaty groan vibrated on your skin.

You nearly lost it. Hands shooting up to his disheveled hair. A string of moans left your lips after your legs quickly wrapped around his midsection.

Ominis quickly unlatched before giving your other mound the same love. His hot tongue pressed flatly against the other hard nub before giving it a gentle tug with his teeth. You gasped with jolt, feeling Ominis smile onto your skin before yanking off your breast with an audible pop.

If he could, he would just be buried between your breast all day, just kissing and worshipping to his hearts desire.

The fair skinned male interrwined your fingers with his, moving down and planting sweet, soft kisses down your sterum, following to your stomach.

You blushed, realizing your skirt was nowhere near decent anymore and had ridden up to pool at your pelvis.

Your eyes only widened after feeling his fingers hook under the hem of the bunched up skirt, including you panties, which Ominis proceeded to tug off with no hesitation.

A deep sigh escaped his lips as the sweet, musky scent invaded Ominis senses.

His hands smoothed over the back of your thighs before lifting them up, your bare cunt now fully exposed.

Your hands flew to your face, feeling extremely shy even though you knew he couldn't see you.

"Ominis.."

He planted small kisses down the side of your knees, a desperatkon clinging to his actions.

"All mine" he murmered onto your skin.

"You know you belong to me now..dont you love"? The restraint Ominis had on saying his true feelings completely vanished in this moment as your breath hitched. A sincerity shining in his eyes, he gazed down in your direction. Your eyes oftened at his declaration. Somehow, you knew he was finally speaking the truth about his feelings. And his words weren't just driven by lust.

"Yes," you whispered. "Yes, I do."

With one final tender kiss, he trailed his lips along the curve of your navel with a renewed vigor, planting soft kisses down the expanse of your inner thighs.

You were literally soaking at this point. Ominis felt the juices collecting on his lips as his tongue.

"All this for me, love? I didn't even do anything yet. " The young gaunt playfully gave you quick nips, causing you to buck your hips in response.

"Didn't do anything? Who's the liar now? " You replied breathlessly.

You couldn't help but let out an embarrassed squeak as he placed a teasing kiss just above your clit.

Oh, he was going to enjoy this thoroughly. As much as you loved your delicate whimpers, Ominis needed to know how you sounded when you screamed his name drowning in the ecstacy he provided with you.

The long lashes you always envied tickled your skin before you observed the beautiful male hover over your heat.

You ran your fingers through his disheveled hair, moving them out of his face before his tongue flattened against your folds and applied pressure dragging upwards and flicking across your clit.

"Ah fuck-" !

The obsencity that flew out of your mouth ignited a primal hunger within Ominis as he savored his first taste of you.

Your head rolled back and fell to the mattress as your hand flew to grip the sheet besides your head. Your legs instantly went to clamp shut from the sentivity, but Ominis firmly held the back of your thighs with an unyielding grip, raising them higher and causing them to brush against your stomach.

Your sopping cunt was on full display and there was nothing you could do, completely at his mercy.

He dove down and repeated the action, but this time paused to close his lips around clit and suck harshly.

Your back rounded with another strangled cry as tears pricked your eyes.

Ominis slurped your juices with a deep groan before his tongue swirled around the hard pearl, flicking it over and over.

"Oh fuck Ominis"!

Your ecstatic cries reverberated through the room, filling the air as you bucked against his face, jolting with each suction of the hard nub on your core.

Ominis growled letting your thighs fall beside each side of his face before wrapping his hands around naval to keep you grounded as he continued his assault on your cunt.

Shamlessly licking and bitting alternating between you clit and folds.

Ominis let out a guttaral moan that vibrated against pussy, his grip on you stomach tightening.

Fuck you tasted good. He had imagined eating you out many times, but his fantasies couldn't hold a candle to how you actually felt.

The sounds of slurps, kisses, and groans filled the room as you felt a knot tighten harshly in your stomach, almost to the brink of being painful. You were so close, and Ominis sensed it.

He brought one of his fingers and dragged them down your folds until he found a slit.

The long appendage slid across the entrance back and forth as if to determine this was where he could push it in.

Cautiously, as to not hurt you, one finger pushed into you as you gazed down at Ominis nervously. The unfamiliar feeling didn’t hurt at with how wet you were. That is until Ominis decided to put a second finger, and that’s when you felt the sting.

You hissed arching your back, ready to ask him to take it out, but Ominis anticipated it.

His lips flew to your clit, giving another mind numbing suck causing to you contract around his fingers, effectively distracting you from the pain.

Your gummy walls felt otherworldy to him. How wondered how you would feel with dick penetrating you instead of his fingers.

Slowly, he began to pump harder, picking up speed as you helplessly writhed in hsi embrace

His other hand swiftly reached up, firmly gripping the hand on top of his head, pinning it down by your side, and intertwining your fingers.

Your hips began to stutter as his fingers began curling inside, dragging out against your walls and plunging back in before you got a chance to breathe.

Ominis groaned, his face buried onto your pussy, drowning in his own ecstacy with how tasted before feeling another gush of your lqiuids burst onto his lips as he pumped harder.

Your eyes fluttered shut as your chest heaved rapidly feeling the oncoming orgasm.

With one last snap of his fingers, white hot waves drowned your entire body as you convulsed violently against his face, mouth ajar and eyes rolling to the back of your head before shutting tightly.

Ominis had never felt so turned on in his life feeling you getting lost in the pleasure he provided.

His aching dick demanded to be taken care of as Ominis rutted into the mattress to give it some friction.

"I cant anymore..ahh-Ominis"!

He was still eating you through the orgasm as it faded after a while, and you started to whine from the sensitivity.

The young slytherin finally unlatched from your core with a smirk, licking the glistening juices dripping down his chin after giving you the most earth-shattering orgasm.

You slumped against the mattress, somehow more exhausted than him, watching him crawl over you.

"Merlin, you tasted heavenly"

You shook your head, bring his face closer to yours. "Oh my goodness Ominis...I dont think I can feel my legs".

The young gaunt laughed, giving your thighs a light smack.

"That's too bad, I was just getting started, love."

Before you could react, his hand seized your hips, forcefully flipping you over to lie on your stomach. A surprised squeak escaped your lips as you felt his strong hands pulling your hips closer, bringing the tip of his eager bulge to press against your wet core.

Ominis glided his hands over the spine of you back before his palms rounded the smooth flesh of your ass, salivating how pleasnt they felt.

"Fuck dove, how can you be so perfect".

He couldn't help but give your cheeks a sharp smack with a wicked grin, delighted with the way he felt them move, as the lust clouded bis mind.

You yelped, just knowing there was going to be a visible print back there. It seemed he was adamant about marking you in every way possible tonight.

Perhaps Sebastian was truly the innocent one in your group with the way Ominis claiming you.

Blind to the unfolding scene, your senses were heightened, feeling the scorching press of kisses trailing along your spine. One hand skillfully parted your thighs, granting more access to your heated core, while the other gently swept your hair aside, revealing your neck in all its glory.

Ominis hovered over you, his breath fanning over your ears. "Dont think you're forgiven just yet, Dove. I'll make you cum around my cock so hard you wont even be able to take a step out of this room tommrow".

His low husky words caused your breath to catch in your throat, sending a shiver down your spine. You knew, without a doubt, that he intended to fulfill that promise.

With your cheeks pressed against the mattress, you stuttered, "H-have you always been this wicked Ominis"?

His nose pressed against your cheeks as you felt the mischeivious grin on his lips.

"Only because of you, love. Dont worry, this way we can spend the day together, and I can help make you feel all better".

"Yeah? And exactly how would you help when you're, the one who caused it the first place, " you whispered back breathlessly.

Thr fingers that laid on your thigh trailed up before gliding through your slick folds, earning a deep moan from you.

"Like this"

His fingers plunged into your sex yet again as you cried into the sheets gripping it tightly.

Ominis bit your ears dragging it out with small grin before pressing soft kisses on your neck, contrasting the way he roughly fucked you with his fingers.

"That's it. Cry for me... just. Like. that".

A broken sob of pleasure rung in ears as you arched your back, tears streaming down your from the brutal pace Ominis set.

The young gaunt gritted his teeth, losing his mind with how your core sucked his fingers in, shivering at the wet squelching noises echoing through the room.

But you were still painfully tight. And as eager as he was to stuff you to the brim, the last thing he wanted was for you to be in too much pain.

A thought suddenly entered his mind before his fingers experimentally began to spread apart within your wet walls, sissoring you as gently as he could.

You grunted, gripping the sheets tightly, writhing in his hold.

"I know.. I know, just a little more love. Then I'll make you feel good"

You let out deep breath, instinctively rutting against his fingers in an attempt to accommodate

Once he felt you were okay, he pulled his fingers out, now kneeling back from your shaking form, unbuckling the belt on his trousers. You bit your lips, turning head around, watching nervously before you see a pale prick spring out of its confinment with an angry red leaking tip

Gripping your hips, Ominis lifted your rear to align with his pelvis, where his erection eagerly awaited.

A wavering sigh pushed past your lips as Ominis glided his leaking tip over your slit before finally, he gently pushed the tip in.

....Oh fuck.

The stretch was already getting to you.

Ominis grunted at the tightness, more worried about how you felt before he heard small noises of pain escape your lips.

"Breathe darling..."

Sucking in deep breaths, you allowed yourself to try and relax, reminding yourself that this is was Ominis. The person you truly loved.

After a couple of moments, the stinging subsided before you took control and pushed you hips back further, allowing him to slide deeper into you.

Ominis tightened his grip on your curve, your hips, a concentrated look, etching his face.

"Are you sure your okay"?

The worried voice had you smile before licking your lips, feeling the tinge of pleasure slowly washing over you as the outline of his erections dragged past you twitching walls.

You pushed your hips further, filled to the hilt feeling the tip touch a deep part of you that made you gasp.

"Omi..please start moving- ahh this feels s-so good".

Your heart throbbing pleads had Ominis lightly scoff, a dark grin appearing on his lips.

"Look at you...feeling brave already"?

You bit your lips, trying to suppress the cocky smile as Ominis smirked, pumping in and out slowly.

A shaky breath left his lips at the sensation of your soft wet walls sucking him in every time before he pulled away. It was unlike anything Ominis has ever felt. Now he was afraid rutting himself into his hands at the thought of you just wasn't going to cut it anymore.

You gasped, breathing heavier, feeling his dick plunge into your harder and faster. And soon you turnee into a crying mess again, feeling the tip of his dick kiss you deep. Ominis sensed it as soon as he touched it. The spongy little wall at the end thay made you flinch every time.

Licking his lips, a dark smile tugged at the corner of his lips as he began to pound deeper, your ass bouncing against his pelvis violently.

A loud whimper escaped your lips as you felt Ominis's other hand caress your backside, the touch followed by a sharp and resounding smack as he rammed into you balls deep, drowning in how delicious good you felt.

One particular snap of his thrust had you squeeze your walls around him tightly, causing the young slytherin to stutter in his thrusts with a gasp.

Your walls began to contract, and you couldn't help but tighten around him harder as Ominis groaned at the mind-numbing sensation.

Before you expected, Ominis grabbed the back of your neck, pushing you face down into the mattress, fucking into you at an angle that allowed the dick to hit your g spot.

Your voice cracked with the yelp that pushed past your lips, back arching further, allowing him better access.

Ominis head rolled back, his mouth ajar at the new postion, your head down and ass up in the air.

He kept hitting your cervix repeatedly as your eyes rolled back. Ominis may not be able to see the sweet sight of your wrecked out pussy fluttering around his cock, but just the thought it had him double over you, waves of hot pleasure racking him.

Leaning down, he encased your entire back, hovering over your trembling figure before slowing down his pace to deliberately grind into you, sensing the way you jumped slightly.

"Your doing so good love" he pressed a kiss to your temple before wrapping an arm beneath you, taking a hold of your jaw.

He lifted your face, tilting it gently to the side, granting him access to plant tender kisses on your bruised neck.

"Do you want to come darling" ? Ominis murmered.

You whine lightly, leaning into his touch "Please"...

The young Gaunt chuckled lightly amused but more so happy that you were enjoying this as much as he did.

"Very well".

The curt words hung in the air for just a second when suddenly, his hand swiped underneath to reach your gushing core before gliding over to your clit.

Simultaneously, Ominis pulled back before thrusting into you hard, rubbing your pearl viciously.

A scream tore from your throat as your white knuckles clenched the sheets tightly under you.

Ominis grunted, sensing he was close, but he was a man of his word. When he said he would make you cum hard. He meant it.

With deep, forcful thrusts, he felt the tip of your cervix again, a smirk appearing on his lips at the rediscovery.

The young slytherin attacked your clit mercilessly as he pounded into you with a strength that kncoked the air out of your lungs.

You thought you were going to pass out with the stars that began to appear at the corners of your vision, your orgasm hitting with a force you almsot couldn't take.

Your mouth ajar, the sounds stuck in your throat, you spasmed fierecly against him, letting the high take you over. The way you pulsated and clenched around his cock had Ominis falling into his own orgasm releasing spurts of his white milky seeds into you. He bit your shoulder as your contracting walls milked him for everything he had.

You groaned, feeling the hot substance fill you up before dripping out of your hole.

Both if your moans filled the room as you both experienced a high that was now burned into your memories.

Ominis had finally claimed you in every way possible.

After a fleeting pause, Ominis mustered the strength to lift himself up, the weight of exhaustion tugging at his every move. Determination fueled his actions, overpowering the weariness. With a gentle yet firm grip on your waist, he rolled you over to face him, his touch evoking a tingling sensation across your skin. As your eyes met his glistening, sweat-drenched form, you couldn't help but be captivated, a lump forming in your throat. Ominis leaned in once more, his forehead gently resting against yours.

"Thank you".

You shook your head "For what...your one the who did all the work here".

Ominis pressed a tender kiss to your forhead with a smile, "No. I meant thank you... for agreeing to be mine"

Oh...

You couldn't help but feel your heart swell at his words, staring up at him adoration. Your hands reached up to cup his jaw, warching him lean into your touch.

"I was always yours Ominis".

Your lover flashed a soft grin, leaning down to capture your lips in a deep kiss, and you eagerly reciprocated. After a few blissful moments, you both pulled away, and you noticed his arms tremble slightly, indicating fatigue and a desire not to overwhelm you with his weight.

Without a moment's hesitation, you firmly grasped the back of his neck, pulling him down towards your chest. Ominis emitted a sound of surprise at the sudden movement, now fully positioned on top of you.

"Just rest, love. Werent you the one telling me how you wanted sleep on top of me like this" you giggled.

"But-"

"No buts, you're not hurting me just just relax."

Ominis let out a soft chuckle, settling in with ease as he felt the warmth of your soft skin beneath his face. A contented sigh escaped his lips as both of you shifted to find comfort in your new positions.

You summoned one of the sheets from the surrounding area, conjuring it into a soft blanket and draping it over the two of you. The blissful aftermath of your intimacy combined with the cozy warmth of the crackling fire enveloped you, creating a sense of comforting contentment like never before in your life.

Ominis couldn't have been happier at how this evening ended, grateful that you even bought up this game to him in the first place.

He imagined in the near future, he could tell this story to his kids about how he and their mother had confessed their love for each other after playing an exciting game of chase throughout the dark castle.

Minus the rough mind blowing sex of course.

Ominis felt your fingers rake through his hair, your calm even breaths already lulling him to a sleep. As he teetered on the edge of sleep, a resolute determination welled up within him. He made a solemn vow to himself to create a future where he would wake up every day to the comforting presence of you by his side. And it was promise he intended to keep. After all, he was a man of his word.

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