#step 5 is to observe how long he takes to notice she’s messing with him. then she writes it down because she’s conducting an experiment | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

theroseceleste · 2 months ago

Text

Vampire Miguel - Part 6 - Now You See Me

The group of vampires work together to learn a new trick and there's trouble with the Daily Bugle, how will you negotiate it?

Minors DNI - Smut and descriptions of violence

Word count - 10,712

Contains - Confrontation with the boss. Smut - oral and penetrative sex

If you enjoy this work, please consider liking, commenting and re-blogging. Many thanks. xx

Enjoy xx

Pt 1 Pt 2 Pt 3 Pt 4 Pt 5

Miguel observes you as you lay in his bed, a content smile spreads across his face as he admires how comfortable you look. You’re sleeping soundly after another passionate evening shared between the both of you. He loves how your hair splays around your head on his pillow, how his sheets cover your naked body, accentuating your curves.

You turn on your side, facing him while you sleep.

He should get up soon; he has to contact Peter and tell him what’s been happening. Parts of him consider having the family of three stay in the shelter too, just to make sure everyone he knows and cares about is safe.

He leans over you as gently as possible so as to not wake you and tenderly plant kisses down your arm before climbing off the bed.

Clothes are all over the floor, making him chuckle slightly as he remembers how the pair of you tried to subtly enter his room without the others noticing. The moment his door was shut, you both were all over each other, ripping clothes off and kissing passionately.

He finds some new clothing to wear and puts his worn clothes in his washing hamper. This evening, he chooses a red, long-sleeved shirt which hugs him in all the right places. Once fully dressed, he quietly opens the door and shuts it, leaving you to sleep on in peace.

As usual, the youngsters have taken root at the communal area, all except one. Miguel steps out of his room and watches in a bemused manner as Miles figures out he can scale the walls.

“Hey, check this out. I’m like a spider!” he chuckles as he manages to get a little higher. The others all lazily turn their heads up to observe Miles.

“~Spider-Man, Spider-Man. Does whatever a spider can.

Spins a web, any size. Catches thieves just like flies.

Look out! Here comes Spider-Man,~”

Miles makes up a super hero theme tune on the spot as he keeps climbing while most of the other youngsters laugh. Hobie, on the other hand, lets out a friendly scoff. “Spider-Man? Sounds bonkers mate.”

Pavitr turns around fully on the couch, kneeling on the cushions to take a look at Miles. “Ohhh, imagine! Slinging webs, swinging between buildings; the sky’s the limit,” he speaks with wonder as he spreads his arms wide gesturing to the vastness of the city skyline.

A cushion goes soaring through the air and smacks the back of Pavitr’s head as Miles jumps back down to the floor.

“Hey! Who threw that?” he asks as he grabs the cushion and looks accusingly at Hobie, who then points at Peni idly playing on a handheld gaming device. “You could have messed up my amazing hair!” he tosses the cushion at Peni which flies directly into her face as she drops her game in her lap.

“ACK!” she yelps as she springs up onto the couch, ready to launch the cushion back at Pavitr. Unfortunately for her, Miguel intercepts by seizing it and raises it up in the air, making her dangle below, kicking wildly.

“Pav; it was Hobie. I saw him,” he says to intervene.

A light growl comes from Peni who wrenches the offending cushion out of Miguel’s grasp and takes a swing at Hobie.

“Tch; snitch!” he retorts as he takes cover from Peni’s onslaught of attacks. Miguel shrugs and heads into the kitchen, leaving them to it while all the others join in with the hilarity and chaos in the communal area.

Lyla turns around after loading the washing machine as she hears Miguel enter the kitchen. Then, she folds her arms and leans against the wall, observing Miguel as he grabs a blood pack out of the fridge. “So? Spill the beans,” she says as she raises an expectant eyebrow while a yelp followed by a crash is heard from outside in the communal area.

He looks at her quizzically as he tosses the pack on a glass plate and shuts it in the microwave. “What do you mean?” he asks as the drum in the washing machine starts to spin, joining in with the sound of the microwave heating his meal. A cushion flies past the kitchen door.

“What really happened at Y/N’s home? You sly dog,” she grins and wiggles her eyebrows.

Apart from the constant noise of the kitchen appliances and the hooliganism going on outside, silence falls between the pair. Miguel, too, folds his arms and sits on the counter. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he replies coolly, doing his damndest not to appear flustered by dragging his phone out of his pocket to type a message to Peter.

A small fist bumps into Miguel’s arm, giving him a friendly nudge. “I saw you and Y/N sneaking into your room earlier. What happened in her apartment?” she grins.

“You’re a smart girl, I’m sure you can work it out,” Miguel sighs in defeat - the secret wasn’t going to remain one for long…

A shrill squeak of excitement erupts from Lyla which fills the tiny room before the microwave beeps. “~Miggy’s got a girlfriend!~” she grins and claps her hands together with glee.

Yanking the microwave door open, he takes out the plate and places it on the countertop to cool. “We’re not official or anything. I just really like her,” he admits as he finishes up messaging Peter and putting his phone back in his pocket.

“You really really like her though,” she grins again as now what seems to be a flurry of cushion feathers start fluttering into the kitchen.

Miguel’s gaze lowers as he presses his fingers against the pack of blood to feel how hot it is. “Yes, I do. Happy now?” he asks as he picks up his meal. “Go on; go to bed while I try to drink in peace - ‘try’ being the operative word with that rowdy lot outside…” he continues as he nods his head towards the communal area.

Lyla eyes the feathers scattered around on the floor. “They’re getting restless; being cooped up in here all the time,” she comments, sounding sympathetic. A frown spreads across her lips.

The vampire lets out a tired sigh. “I know, but here’s the safest place for them at the moment. Morbius is trying everything he can to get to me,” he pauses for a moment as he also looks at the feathers that have wafted into the kitchen. “I’ve told Peter to come here tonight, and instructed MJ and Mayday to travel here tomorrow during the day. I want everyone here where I can keep tabs on you all.”

His business partner nods in response. “Probably the smartest move,” she says as she stands up and unfolds her arms. With a wave of her hand she wishes Miguel good night and leaves the kitchen. “Right, which one of you rascals is buying a new cushion?”

You wake to feeling something much warmer than a blanket covering you. Before you open your eyes, you can tell Miguel has re-entered the room and climbed onto the bed. He nuzzles you gently and holds you close. A soft moan leaves your lips as you slip back into consciousness and nuzzle him back.

His chest is already bare. You can feel the warmth of his skin radiating against yours. It’s clear that he has had some blood to drink recently.

“Time to get up, mi dulzura,” he whispers to you, making you grumble and snuggle him more tightly.

“No…” you nuzzle against his thick neck, “just five more minutes…”

A faint smile spreads across his face. He wants to enjoy his time with you, however there is the underlying stress of what the new day will be bringing. “Okay, but you should get up soon,” he replies before delivering a tender kiss to the top of your head.

Begrudgingly, after a few minutes, you finally leave the bed, but you make the mistake of looking back at the beautiful man you’re abandoning under the sheets. Your heart flutters when you two lock eyes, as you consider maybe you can squeeze in a quick intimate and passionate moment before starting work. His body is simply irresistible… However, you fear that once you start, you will not be able to stop.

After getting dressed, you send a message to your boss to notify him that you’ll be working out of the office again. Then you sit back down on the bed, to give your new vampire lover a kiss before finding a quiet spot to work.

“Sweet dreams,” you whisper to him as your lips brush against his. Long, tanned fingers thread through strands of your hair as you feel his mouth respond to your light kisses.

“Have a good day, Y/N,” he whispers back.

The blissful moment shared between you both is suddenly rudely interrupted by your phone ringing. Looking at the screen, it says your boss is calling you. Perhaps his patience is wearing thin and wants you in the office.

You pick up your phone and answer it, feeling a slight pounding in your heart. “Morning Mr. Jameson,” you say, doing your best not to stutter.

“Y/N; care to tell me why there is a video of you on the internet opening fire at what looks to be a vampire? What’s going on? Explain; now.”

Miguel can immediately see that something is wrong. Your hands tremble so much that you nearly drop the phone.

“W-what?” you manage to choke out in surprise.

Your boss scoffs. “I know it’s you. That much is clear in the video.”

There’s a video? You ask yourself. How the hell do you negotiate this situation? “Mr. Jameson, I don’t know what video you’re referring to,” you ask, doing your best to sound as ignorant and innocent as possible, but your concerned gaze lands on Miguel, who’s eyes widen. After standing up from the bed, you search for your laptop in your bag with one hand while holding your phone to your ear.

“Oh, please, Y/N-”

“Send it to me,” you reply, sounding a little more commanding than you intended. Your laptop clacks down on Miguel’s desk before you open it and turn it on. The sound of the bed creaking tells you that Miguel is coming to take a look too, gathering his sheets around his hips.

“Alright…” Mr. Jameson replies, humouring you as you hear him type your email address and click send.

After your laptop boots up, you log in and immediately open your emails. Your boss’ email is sitting tauntingly at the very top of your inbox in large, bold, black text. A warm hand rests on your shoulder as you take a seat at the desk and open the email. Miguel, too, is very eager to see what this is all about.

You click on the link in the email from Mr. Jameson and it takes you to a YouTube channel called V-Tube. At first glance, it looks like a place that displays supposed proof that the creatures of the night exist. Except, in this case, the video in front of you is in fact, definite proof.

Silence falls on the line as you play the video. Sure enough, there you are, clinging onto Miguel on the back of a bike shooting at a winged creature. Thankfully, the camera angle doesn’t reveal Miguel’s face, but this does land you slap bang in the middle of a whole lot of trouble with your boss and potentially your job. There must have been a car that wasn’t involved in the chase, but a passenger within it witnessed the entire event and recorded it.

“Shit…” you hear Miguel mutter quietly behind you, he steps away and paces the room as he tries to think. Then, he grabs his phone and opens up a news app to check what’s being said there.

“Something’s going on, Y/N, and what I want to know is why aren’t you writing about this?”

You gulp. A lump has formed in your throat and doesn’t seem to want to go away.

“You’re not denying it then? Your involvement in this?” Mr. Jameson probes. How can you deny it? Your face is right there, in that video…

“I- last night I was out with my boyfriend,” you begin conjuring a lie; hopefully a believable one. Miguel turns to face you as you continue, partially because you called him your boyfriend. “We were attacked. I acted in self defence and I know nothing more about what we saw last night than you do.”

“Why would they be attacking you?” he asks, making you pause and panic.

“I don’t know. As far as I could see it was unprovoked. Perhaps a case of mistaken identity?”

Mr. Jameson sighs as he considers your words. He guesses what you said could be the truth… The brief silence is broken once more as he speaks. “Well, at least you’ve got something to write about. A perfect opportunity and your first hand experience will make an interesting read to say the least.”

Your heart lurches, of course he’s going to make that suggestion. “But I-“

“Not buts; I want you to write about this,” he growls as you swear you hear him hit his desk in frustration. “You can do some digging into these beasts too for future articles. Civilians need to know who they are truly residing with,” you hear a series of beeps in your ear coming from your phone, telling you that your boss has hung up. Your hand holding your mobile lowers as your eyes remain fixed on your laptop screen. What are you going to do?

Miguel comes over to see you again, still clutching his bed sheet around his hips. “What did he say?” he asks, his expression full of concern, eyebrows knitted together.

You turn back to look at him, your expression almost mirroring his. “Mr. Jameson wants me to write about what happened last night. Claiming that Nueva York citizens need to know about who else lives in the city,” you reply as you watch Miguel shake his head and turn away to begin pacing again.

“No. You’re not going to - you can’t.”

Placing your cell phone down on his desk, you stand up to meet him across the room. “I could warn the Daily Bugle readers about Morbius?” you offer as a suggestion but he looks back at you, his expression now looking more serious than concerned.

“And cause mass panic? Because that’s what your article will do,” he pauses before adding: “Or make them think you’re mad.”

“So, I just sit and do nothing?” you ask before you point at your laptop. “If I don’t write, I’m out of a job. Jameson has told me I have to write about last night,” as you speak, your voice cracks with emotion, concern and stress, desperate to find a middle ground that everyone can be happy with.

Miguel just simply looks at you, obstinate and resolute.

“You’ve said it yourself: Morbius is getting reckless. He wants to stop you from getting in his way. How far will he go to do that? How many people might die as collateral damage? People need to know,” you argue with passion, although you notice standing your ground against Miguel is actually rather frightening.

He stands silently for a moment before he looks away. “You’ll find another job, I’m sure,” his voice is barely above a whisper.

Your jaw drops at his response and your heart pounds. “That’s it?” you ask incredulously. “I’ll be forced to find another job because you say so?”

Miguel advances on you suddenly. “What’s going on is so much bigger than the Daily fucking Bugle!” he yells as one hand clasps your shoulder while the other remains on the sheet around his hips. “If you write anything to do with the existence of vampires, I promise you there will be pitchforks and lit torches before the day is done,” he gestures to his bedroom door. “Those kids out there, are under my protection. They are my responsibility. Even MayDay would be at risk - an infant!”

His words echo uncomfortably in your mind. You remember how he was treated when a small village found out about him being a vampire. How would an entire city respond? Or even potentially the world? It’s clear Miguel still has trouble with trusting humanity, and you can understand that whole-heartedly.

“What if Morbius doesn’t like what you write about vampires? You could be a target for a different reason other than simply being delectable. What if he targets the employees of the Daily Bugle in response? You want to risk that?” as he speaks, his eyes are wide, desperate to get his point across and for you to understand.

There is a moment where you both stare into each other’s eyes, passion burning brightly between you. As your heart pounds, your breathing quickens and your mind processing what feels like thousands of thoughts a minute.

“You think I’d be the only one writing about this?” you eventually ask as you rest your hand on his which still grips your shoulder. “Others will be looking at that video and writing about this for other newspapers. Whereas I was actually there,” you pause as Miguel pulls his hand away from your shoulder and sits down on the edge of his bed, resting his head in his hands.

“That video is out there for all to see. People know now, regardless of me writing or not-” Miguel looks up at you.

“Then why even bother?” he interjects.

You kneel down in front of him and grip his arms. “Because I can use my voice - or my words, in this case - for good!” you’re so desperate for him to see things from your side, you could shake him. “You should trust me not to write about the kids. I will only report on what is important and necessary.”

“People are going to believe whatever they want. If they want to believe that every vampire is dangerous that’s what they’re going to do,” his voice is low and resentful, but not towards you. You can guess he’s still hurting from the way he was treated all those years ago.

“Then I will feel glad that I have written about my first hand experience being with good vampires like you, who saved my life. I may not be able to convince everyone, but I have gained trust over the years of working for the Daily Bugle,” your hands squeeze his wrists slightly. “Let me use my influence to help sway people in your favour.”

For the first time in a few minutes, Miguel’s furrowed brows relax as a breath he didn’t know he was holding finally leaves his parted lips. He can see the determination in your eyes and it’s getting harder to argue against. Tiredness from a long night is making him cranky and maybe more liable to be uncooperative.

Wrapping his arms around you, he pulls you into his embrace as he lays back on his bed. He kisses the top of your head before he speaks. “I’m sorry,” he begins as he tightens his grip on you. “Do what you need to do. All I ask is, can I see what you write before you submit it?”

That is a fair request. You are going to be writing about him after all. Supporting your weight with your hands on either side of his head, you look down at him. “Of course. I will start working on it right away,” you answer, before bending down slightly to kiss him back. “But you get some sleep first and I’ll show it to you when you wake up later before I email it to Mr. Jameson.”

“Okay, I’ll sleep,” he replies before pulling you in for another kiss.

He finally relinquishes you and gets under his covers, hiding his beautiful body away.

It’s hard, but you tear your eyes away from him and return to your laptop.

Giving it further thought, you decide to write an open letter as you worry sensationalising the situation might make it be taken less seriously. As you type, the sounds of your keys softly clicking on the keyboard lulls Miguel off into a deep and restful sleep.

Occasionally, you hear his soft snoring, sounding so peaceful and about the furthest away from being a threat to Nueva York as he can possibly get. You have to do him and most other vampires justice, for his sake and for the kids.

It takes a little while to compose everything you wish to say. Every word is carefully considered with the vampire’s best interests in mind.

In the afternoon, you take a break and speak with Lyla, who has spent most of the morning running errands and preparing the shelter for the arrival of MJ and MayDay.

It’s becoming abundantly clear that last night’s events scared Miguel. The fact he is calling in anyone who is associated with him shows that he thinks Morbius is a much bigger threat now than he ever was. If anything happens to anyone he has hidden away in this shelter, he most likely would never forgive himself. You know he holds himself responsible for not finishing Morbius off when he had the chance, and you suspect it eats away at him every single day.

During your break, you help set up a room for the family of three to share before MJ and MayDay arrive. You look forward to seeing that sweet little girl again; you’re certain she’s going to make living in the shelter much more entertaining.

By the time you are done with writing your open letter, Miguel stirs in his sleep, a soft groan comes out from a pile of pillows.

“Evening,” you call out as the mound under the blankets pillows wriggles. “I think I’m nearly done if you want to come and check it out.”

The sleepy monster finally rises from the land of slumber, stretching and yawning with dishevelled hair poking out in all angles. “Alright, I’m coming…” he replies, his voice sounding croaky as he emerges completely from under the blankets.

After getting some boxers and dark jeans on, he stands behind you, eager to read what you have written. The warmth of his chest beats down on you as he leans over to take a look.

“From The Horse's Mouth,

In the last twenty-four hours, a video has surfaced on the internet displaying winged creatures attacking me - yes, that’s right, me and a friend. I’m writing this to confirm that this is in fact true and not some kind of doctored footage. I am writing this to provide my story of what actually happened.

The truth is, I have very recently discovered that vampires do indeed exist. Just the other night, I found myself in the jaws - quite literally, of a vampire. That was until the man shown on the bike with me came to my rescue.

I went from living in complete ignorant bliss about vampires to being surrounded by them. Let me be crystal clear, I do not feel unsafe in their midst. In fact, they are simply humans who have recently been turned and wish to live in peace.

Just like humans, there are indeed bad vampires too. And I want to take this opportunity to warn as many as I can that there are several roaming the city. Following the orders of the one I was rescued from. His sights are set squarely on my hero, but I must stress that everyone must remain vigilant.

Do not engage with anyone you do not know more than you need to; no matter how charming they appear to be. If you have to be out at night, or travelling via the subway, be sure to have a trusted companion with you, or if that is not possible, stay away from quiet and secluded areas.

Stay safe.

Y/N, Daily Bugle”

As Miguel reads your open letter, a small smile spreads across his face. Relaxing over the fact you have written the vampires he is protecting in a good light. You are right. The cat is out of the bag, as he feared last night, and people will believe if this is real, or a hoax, or if vampires are good or bad. What you have written won’t make matters worse, but maybe help relieve the situation. And in doing so, you are keeping your boss happy too.

He pats your shoulder and then gives it a firm squeeze. “That sounds fine, Y/N. Thank you, and I’m sorry for being so stubborn with you this morning.”

Looking up at him, you spur him on to lean down and give you a kiss on the forehead. “It’s alright, I understand why you were reluctant,” you reply before looking back down at your screen and preparing it to be sent to Mr. Jameson.

The communal area has never looked so full. Twelve people are now living in the shelter and are in danger of completely cramming the couches. To allow people to spread out, Lyla and Miguel have dragged over some spare mattresses to provide extra sitting places.

On one sofa, you, Lyla and MJ all sit together eating a meal that was pre-prepared by MJ. On another couch, Gwen and Pavitr chat to one another animatedly, while Margo and Miles attempt to backseat game as they watch Peni play her gaming device on the third couch.

One of the mattresses in the communal area is littered with children’s toys as Peter plays with a wide-eyed MayDay. She giggles infectiously as her tower of stackable blocks falls down for the umpteenth time that evening.

In the corner, next to several crates, Hobie sits as he inspects the blades he acquired from the vampire he shot the night before. MJ had banished him there as she knew MayDay would likely want to get involved.

As he half unsheathes one of the swords, he hums the annoyingly catchy tune Miles came up with earlier as he scaled the walls.

The metal of the blade is indeed silver, and he makes a note to get hold of some leather gloves so he can handle them properly. For now though, they should be hidden away and out of reach from certain inquisitive little dhampirs…

As Miguel clears his throat to address the rest of the shelter’s occupants, Hobie struts past to put the weapons away in his shared room.

“Alright, listen up,” he starts as he speaks to everyone, but mostly the other vampires. He begins again when he has almost everyone’s attention. “In my recent run-ins with Morbius, his vampire-mist ability is proving killing him practically impossible. If I’m to learn how to do it and play him at his own game. I think you lot should too-”

“Vampire-mist?” Pavitr repeats in surprise, “we can do that?” he asks with intrigue and wonder as MayDay starts to fly away from Peter’s grasping hands.

Miguel nods. “If Morbius can do it, we can too. Just need to work out how,” he says, ducking out of the child’s flight path as her little wings carry her up to the ceiling behind him.

“Uh, MayDay, honey, come back down…” Peter calls out, his eyes fixed on his daughter as he gets up and scales the wall to reach her.

“What is it exactly?” Margo speaks up with interest as she nudges Peni to make her put her gaming device down.

Before Miguel answers, Hobie comes back out of his room and returns to the communal area, observing and smirking at the shenanigans between Peter and MayDay on the ceiling.

“It’s a form of teleportation. It’s an annoying habit of Morbius’s to use as a method of getting himself out of trouble. He’s engulfed by black mist before vanishing entirely,” he explains, trying hard not to sound too sore about his missed opportunity to kill Morbius two nights ago.

“Sounds neat. But why do you want us to learn it too?” Miles asks as Gwen and Margo nod in agreement to his question.

“It’ll be beneficial to us all, for self-defence…” Miguel’s voice drones on as he answers Miles’ question.

At the same time, Peter scrabbles about on the ceiling as MayDay slips between his arms, swooping left and right. MJ squeals as she peeps through the gaps of her fingers, no longer paying attention to Miguel.

Peter manages to catch MayDay and triumphantly holds her below his head as he stands upside down from the ceiling. “Gotcha!”

Simultaneously, Miguel turns around wondering what the fuss is all about. His eyes go wide as he walks right into Peter’s face and their lips connect in an unexpected kiss...

Time seems to have frozen in that moment of shock. Both you and MJ nearly choke on your food as Lyla bursts out laughing with the rest of the vampires.

Miguel tears his face away from Peter, spluttering and wiping his mouth with the back of his hands. His wide red eyes twitch as a chorus of laughter behind him fills the long hallway of the abandoned train station.

Peter chuckles as he finally gets himself back onto the floor. “What? I’m not that bad of a kisser, am I?” he asks as he holds an excitedly babbling MayDay in his arms while MJ facepalms with embarrassment on the couch.

With a heavy sigh, Miguel pinches the bridge of his nose as Peter returns to the mattress.

“MJ, you like my kisses, right?” he asks as he sits back down.

“I do, but not everybody does, I’d expect,” she answers wryly.

Once the hilarity has died down, you, Lyla and MJ head to bed. As you enter Miguel’s room, he follows you and wraps you up in his embrace. His lips brush against yours tenderly and sweetly before capturing them completely.

Your hands splayed across his chest as your fingertips traverse over his defined torso.

Reluctantly, Miguel pulls away, ending the kiss before resting his forehead against yours. “I just wanted my last kiss of the day to be with you, mi dulzura,” he whispers as he nuzzles you, rubbing his nose against yours.

His words and his actions are so sweet and loving. It makes your heart flutter and you’re amazed that so much has changed between the both of you in such a short amount of time. Perhaps the drama you both have gone through together over the last forty-eight hours have brought you together and strengthened your bond so quickly.

You nuzzle him back before stealing another quick kiss but a bright smile shines across your face. A chuckle fills the room before you speak. “You haven’t kissed someone for two hundred years and now you’ve kissed two people in as many days.”

His hand taps you lightly on your rear as if it was aimed to be a little spank. Then, he holds you closer. “But you’re the only one who makes me hard.”

A sudden deep, hot pulse radiates from your core at his words. And sure enough, as he holds you close, you can feel him throbbing against you through his clothes. You bite your lip as you look up at him, making him smirk.

Miguel presses a tender kiss against your forehead as his hands gently rest on your shoulders. “Hmm… food for thought before you fall asleep?” he chuckles as you pout slightly. “I’ve got to concentrate on learning Morbius’s little trick.”

You relent and relax the pleading puppy-dog expression and trembling pout, as you understand that Miguel has more important things to focus on. Anything he can learn to improve his abilities as a vampire could make a vast difference to the outcome of their next inevitable clash.

Before wishing you goodnight, he buries his face against the crook of your neck and takes a deep breath. A contented sigh leaves his lips as your scent gives him a buzz of determination.

“So, how are we going to try and learn this vampire-mist thing when nobody here knows how to do it?” Miles asks once all vampires congregate back in the communal area.

Gwen contemplates for a moment as she sits back on a couch. “Maybe it’s a mental thing? Turning into mist when calm?” she offers as a suggestion.

“Morbius can do it when he’s about to be killed, I don’t think he’s calm all the time when he does it,” Miguel replies as he rests his hands on his hips.

Pavitr sits up from lazing on another couch. “It’s an act of necessity,” he says as if a lightbulb has just been switched on in his mind. “The need for self-preservation or to avoid a situation Morbius doesn’t want to be in triggers the ability.”

Everyone falls silent, considering Pavitr’s thinking out loud. A faint rumble can be heard in a neighbouring tunnel as a train passes through.

Hobie shrugs with folded arms, leaning against a wall. “Makes sense,” he says as his lazy gaze wanders over to Miguel who is still thinking.

“Oh! Gwen; throw a cushion at me!” Pavitr exclaims with urgency.

Miguel looks up. “It’s not time to screw around, guys,” he retorts, but as he speaks, he watches Gwen expertly sling a cushion through the air, directly at Pavitr’s face. And to his absolute surprise, Pav vanishes in a cloud of black mist and the cushion flies cleanly through it, landing among some crates behind the couch.

Everyone but Miguel throws their arms up in the air in shock and disbelief that it worked for Pavitr first time round. A loud chorus of stunned laughter and cheers fill the room before the young vampire steps out of his room and rejoins the excited crowd.

“H-How did you…?” Miguel asks with a bewildered expression on his face, a very slight twitch evident in his eye.

“Easy!” Pavitr replies as Hobie gives him a celebratory pat on the back. “I didn’t want the cushion to mess up my hair,” he answers as he runs his fingers through his voluminous black locks.

“Look at you; being smart and fashionable while you do it.” It is now Peter’s turn to clap Pavitr on the back before he faces Miguel. “Looks like we have our answer,” he says as the other vampires start pairing up to try and make the other vanish.

Along the stretch of subway station that once had a constant flow of people all day every day stands pairings of vampires, teaming up to learn this interesting trick. Miles partners up with Gwen, Hobie, with Pavitr, Margo, with Peni and finally Miguel stands before Peter.

They try throwing punches or kicks at each other to see if they can trigger the vampire-mist response. For some, it isn’t quite so easy to do.

“Come on, Miles. You can throw a harder punch than that,” Gwen goads as she dodges a feeble attack.

“I don’t like the idea of hitting you,” he grunts as he takes another reluctant swing. “Besides, you’re not meant to be dodging them!” Frustration rises within him as Gwen steps aside once more.

“As Pav says, it’s an ability used out of necessity,” she says as she blocks Miles’ punch and raises her own fist. “I haven’t needed to use it.” Her clenched hand swings fast, aiming right towards Miles’ face giving him no time to duck. His eyes widen as he yelps before he disappears and reappears behind Gwen who’s now enveloped in mist.

“You nearly hit me!” Miles exclaims in shock before he realises what he’s just accomplished. He steps forward and shoves at Gwen, springing her forward and almost stumbling headlong into a wall. However, she never hits it as she, too, bursts into mist and reappears safely standing upright next to Miles. The pair of them stare at each other in silent surprise.

After already mastering the technique, Pav spends more time focusing on getting Hobie to work it out. He squints cheekily as he plans his next steps of action. Instead of trying to fight Hobie, he hounds him with questions and compliments about his appearance. “You have an impressive collection of badges my guy,” he says as he reaches out to touch a badge that’s pinned firmly in the leather of his sleeveless-jacket.

A hand swiftly swipes away Pavitr’s hand. “Nah-ah; hands off bruv,” Hobie warns as he corrects his badge, twisting it so it’s just how he likes it.

Pav grins widely. He’s spotted a weakness. In a flurry of fast movements, he reaches for the several shiny objects adorning Hobie’s clothing. “How many do you have? What does this one say? Where did you get this one from? Does that say, PM can suck my d-“ (PM = Prime Minister) Pavitr suddenly chokes on swirling black mist as Hobie vanishes before throwing his arms in the air with joy.

It isn’t long afterwards that Margo and Peni both learn how to do it too. Miguel growls with irritation as he sees the six youngsters work it out while he still struggles with Peter. It seems he has the chattiest partner, having almost a full-blown conversation with himself about how adorable MayDay is between throwing punches at Miguel.

Frustration builds gradually as he understands the concept of what’s needed but he realises he’s hardwired into acting with physical self defence, overriding any urge to vanish. “GAH! For fuck sake; what’s the use?” he lashes out and kicks a crate.

Peter’s shoulders slump with disappointment as it seems Miguel wasn’t exactly listening to his talk about his daughter. “Relax, Miguel. It’ll come to you. Just keep trying.”

“Forget it!” he huffs, turning his back on the rest of the room, pinching the bridge of his nose.

As an awkward silence descends upon the room, Pavitr waves to Peter to get his attention and leans in to whisper in his ear. His instruction is met with a grin and a definite nod.

An arm rests on top of Miguel’s broad shoulders as a hand pats him. “Maybe just take a breather,” Peter says softly, as he leans in to kiss him.

Miguel’s eyes widen in panic at the sudden invasion of personal space and to his surprise, he finds himself in his own room in a blink of an eye. He has done it. A yell of elation nearly erupts from his lips, but he sees you, sleeping peacefully in his bed. Instead, he hears the other vampires cheer outside.

“Well done,” Peter says as he pats Miguel’s shoulder after he re-emerges from his room. “Don’t worry. No more unsolicited kisses from me; I promise.”

Miguel huffs with a slight smile of disbelief over his achievement. “Thanks,” he says. “Probably for the best,” he looks down at Peter. “Your turn to learn, now.”

Peter pulls his hand away from Miguel. “Me?” he laughs suddenly. “I learned that trick ages ago. Back when MJ nearly caught me doing something I shouldn’t have been.”

Miguel’s smile drops. “What?” he asks as he tilts his head questioningly, almost like a confused dog. “Y-You’ve known how to do it all along?”

A wide grin forms on Peter’s face. “Yep. But making everyone learn it from scratch has got the younger ones busy and focused on something other than being bored hooligans.”

Looking around the shelter, Miguel observes everyone standing and talking; not lounging around lazily on the communal couches. They all look animated, bright-eyed and bushy-tailed.

A smile spreads across Miguel’s lips as he understands Peter’s logic. “Fair enough. Thanks.”

For peace and quiet, he enters the kitchen and pulls out his phone to take a look at the news. It has now been over twenty-four hours since the news broke out with the video showing you both fleeing and shooting at beastly creatures. His large thumb brushes up his phone’s screen, scrolling for any update until a headline catches his attention.

“Government Officials Claim the Video is Fake.”

Of course the government would say that, but he can’t deny feeling a little more at ease about it. He hopes it will quell any nervousness amongst the citizens of Nueva York.

A soft nuzzling feeling against your neck slowly awakens you. Miguel is back in the bed, being big-spoon and holding you close. The warmth of his bare chest pressing against your back makes you feel safe and relaxed. He sniffs you before leaning his head against yours, letting out a contented sigh.

You raise your hand to cup his face that is next to yours, your fingertips nestling in his silky hair. “Good morning,” you say huskily as your throat tries to wake up from a night of snoring and deep breathing.

Miguel’s body presses against yours again, completely flush as his arms snake around you. “Morning,” he almost coos back, his breath brushing hotly over your ear.

“I didn’t feel you climb into bed,” you reply, your voice sounding a little more clear.

The feeling of his body clinging onto you like a limpet stuck on a rock on a beach makes you smile, if not turning you on slightly. You find it hard to resist pushing your rear back against his naked pelvis to tease him.

“Because I didn’t, mi dulzura,” he whispers as he thrusts his hips forwards slightly like he can read your mind.

It takes you a minute to work it out - mostly because his hips distract you - but finally the penny drops. Suddenly you turn to face him, your eyes wide. “You worked it out?” Your question is met with a small smile, carrying a hint of pride.

“Yes. Helped by an unusual method by Pavitr, but it did the trick.”

You throw your arms around him and roll him onto his back - a position he rather gladly accepts, his large hands resting on your hips. “Well done! I’m so pleased for you,” you say as you smother him with kisses all over his face before his lips catch yours.

Silence descends upon the room, only being broken by the faint sounds of your intimate moment or sweet moans between the two of you. The way his hands move over your body as he gently pushes his hips up against yours, slowly grinding his growing erection along your unclothed entrance.

Your brows furrow as your need for him skyrockets, and you tilt your hips for him to have an easier angle to enter you.

Another moan leaves your lips when you feel the head of his shaft breaching your slicked folds, squeezing past the tight ring.

Just as you’re about to take the plunge and sink down on him completely, the heat of your passion instantly plummets to subzero temperatures when you hear your phone buzz with an incoming call. You hesitate for a moment, your hips stuttering over Miguel, making him groan needily.

“Ignore it,” he grunts as he grabs your hips.

Looking at the screen, you see it’s your boss, making you pull away. “It’s Jameson…” you mumble nervously as you crawl along the bed, leaving an exceedingly horny Miguel behind you. He rolls over to his front on the bed with a groan of indignant protest and proceeds to grind against the mattress to alleviate his building arousal.

“Mr. Jameson?” you answer the call with mounting curiosity as you sit on the side of the bed, the cool air of Miguel’s room embracing you now you’re out from the covers and away from his body.

“Uh, morning, Y/N,” your boss responds, his usual pushy and demanding demeanour now replaced with something similar to nervousness and uncertainty. With the way he sounds, you get a clear image in your mind of him looking rather pale, as if he has seen a ghost.

You’re not sure how you feel about this change. While you’re not fond of his normal behaviour, this new one doesn’t exactly fill you with confidence either.

“Listen; I’m going to have to ask you to step down from writing for the Daily Bugle - just for a little while,” Mr. Jameson begins to explain.

An uncomfortable pounding in your chest starts after he speaks. “What? Why?” The tone of your voice makes Miguel look up at you with concern, forgetting how you just unintentionally blue balled him.

“It’s not my decision exactly-“ he tries to continue but you interrupt.

“What do you mean?”

“The government has asked me to suspend you for writing your open letter yesterday,” Jameson blurts out at you in response.

Your blood runs cold. The government is involved now? However your blood doesn’t run cold for long as you remember who pushed you to write the now seemingly offensive piece. It now feels like fire burning within your veins as you try to gather the right words to speak. “This… This isn’t fair, you-“

“It’s out of my hands, Y/N.”

“You told me to write it! Did you fail to mention that nugget of information to the government?”

“No- I-“ Jameson splutters.

“Just as I thought,” you snap back.

Only listening to half of the conversation, Miguel can still tell something is wrong, and when you mention the government, he starts to worry. Quickly, he peels his body off of the mattress and shuffles his way over to you to put a comforting arm around your shoulders.

“I know you’re mad-“ Mr. Jameson tries to placate the situation, but you’re now feeling unstoppable.

“Damn right, I’m mad! You played a part in this open letter too, but you don’t face suspension? How convenient,” as you speak, you find yourself surprised that you’re able to do this. You’d never say boo to a goose, but at this moment, you’re ripping into your boss, letting him have a piece of your mind. Confrontation and you don’t usually mix, and it becomes rather apparent as your body starts to shudder. Miguel feels it under his arm, spurring him to wrap it around you tighter, keeping you warm and strengthening your resolve.

Mr. Jameson has always been a bully. You told yourself that he was under pressure from higher-ups to keep his division of the Daily Bugle running like a well-oiled machine to excuse his shitty attitude towards you. But now, you’ve finally had enough of how he makes you feel when you work for him. This is the last straw.

“Watch your tone, Y/N,” Jameson’s demeanour seems to be shifting back to how he usually is with you, only serving to fuel the roaring fire within.

“You know what, Jameson? Fuck you. Fuck you and the Daily Bugle,” with that, you rip your phone away from your ear and jab angrily at the end call button on the screen, making a loud tap.

A wave of cold seems to wash over you again for a moment as the fire dies down inside. But you feel relief as Miguel scoops you up and places you in his lap, wrapping his arms around you tightly.

There is no need to ask what happened, he understood the gist of it, and hearing you say ‘fuck you’ to your boss and the company you work for pretty much sounds like you’ve just quit. “It’s okay,” he whispers to you as he rocks you back and forth in his arms.

“Is it?” you ask, your voice shaking slightly with the stress of the confrontation. “I’ve just thrown my job away because of my boss being a monumental d-”

“Oooookay, mi dulzura,” he interjects as he tightens his grip around you. “I know. But you’ll get back up on your feet. I’m sure you will. The Daily Bugle doesn’t deserve you,” his voice is soft and calming as his fingers thread through your hair. Every gentle stroke he gives you soothes the furnace inside.

Eventually, he feels you relax into his embrace, producing a contented smile on his face. He thinks to himself that the cuddle he has you locked in will be so much better for the both of you if you’re ensconced under his covers with him. It’s not like you have work to do today.

Gently, he lifts you back into bed and lays next to you. The warmth of his body mixes in with the duvet that he pulls it over you both.

Miguel’s words echo in your mind as he hides you away from the world. He’s right. The Daily Bugle doesn’t deserve you. You have no idea what you’ll do instead, but at least your sanity will no longer be tested on a daily basis working for a man like Jameson.

You feel so warm in the cocoon that is his arms and his duvet. It’s impossible to hide the smile on your face as you feel him nuzzling and kissing your cheek. And soon, your troubles are temporarily forgotten about as you feel his hand slither its way down your body, the warm pads of his middle and fourth fingers gently running tight circles on your clit.

A gasp escapes your parted lips as his tender stroking re-awakens your core. The heat of mounting arousal spreads throughout your body in pulses with every revolution of his fingers.

Eventually, he feels moisture at the trough of every circular stroke, lubricating his touch, letting his digits slide over your sensitive bud.

You mewl needily for more as your inner walls start to clamp on nothing. Your body, begging to be filled, craving him.

Miguel licks his lips as a thought crosses his mind. “I want to taste you, mi dulzura,” he whispers to you, spurring you to obediently tilt your head to one side before you even really think about it properly.

He shakes his head with a smile. “Not there,” he mumbles with a smirk. “Here,” Miguel’s fingers slip down from your clit, making you moan louder as he halts that sweet stimulation and slides inside you. “Damn, you’re so wet. Please, let me have a taste.”

Just the thought of having his head down there between your legs makes your heart flutter. Then you add the feeling that your mind can conjure of his tongue lapping at your entrance and flicking around your clit. On top of that, you imagine his moans as he hopefully enjoys the taste of you. Of course you’re not going to deny him that experience. You nod to give him the go ahead and you’re met with a seductive grin.

“I can’t wait to see if your arousal tastes as sweet as your blood,” he coos as he begins his descent down your body. His plump lips plant tender kisses along the way.

Miguel’s hands grip you under your thighs and open your legs wide for him, revealing such an enticing sight.

In no time at all, his mouth is now lavishing attention to your tender inner-thigh. This sensation alone is enough to drive you wild.

“So soft…” he purrs with delight. “I’d like to try feeding from here sometime…” he murmurs against your supple flesh as his lips travel higher to the tendon between your thigh and your heat. Light and gentle nibbles are felt along it, making you moan and writhe. How can something feel so good but equally unbearable?

Fingers dig into your flesh as Miguel holds your legs apart before you feel the delicate teasing from his tongue flicking and circling around your sensitive bud. He instantly moans as soon as his taste buds register your essence. The vibrations of his appreciation only serve to heighten your arousal.

He pauses momentarily, making you think he’s about to compliment your taste, but he doesn’t waste his time. Diving in completely, his lips and tongue attack your drenched folds before letting out an incredible groan. No compliments necessary. There is fervour behind his actions, acting as though he is a man starved.

Your fingers clench the bed sheets as Miguel continues his onslaught between your legs, alternating between lapping at your entrance and teasing your clit while moaning. Every time you wriggle and writhe, he fights you to keep you still. “M-Miguel~” you moan urgently as his time on your sensitive bud is starting to feel particularly exquisite.

Knowing that you can feel that tightening in your lower abdomen, he chases your climax down by latching onto your clit and teases it mercilessly. His tongue flicks and swirls around it as he starts to suck, making your back arch and cry out his name again.

To make sure there is no danger of him moving away, you release one of your hands off the bed sheet and grasp the locks of his slicked-back, dark-brown hair. “Yes…” you hiss with pleasure. “Like that, mhmmm…” you encourage him to keep going.

He nods between your legs, only adding to the stimulation, driving you even closer to your release. He can tell you’re approaching the edge, your body’s reaction is indication enough.

Miguel re-captures your swollen bundle of nerves with his lips after flicking it wildly with his tongue and groans deeply into your flesh for his one last bid to push you over the edge.

Your eyes roll to the top of your head, the moment your orgasm hits. A loud moan erupts from your parted lips as your body writhes uncontrollably under the strong influence of your pleasure.

He pushes on, continuing to lavish your throbbing clit with attention through your climax until your mewls turn into high-pitched squeals. And when he can sense that it’s too much for you, he releases you before eating you out once more, coating his tongue in your fresh wave of arousal, languidly lapping between your soaked folds.

“I could eat you out,” Miguel begins before licking at you hungrily again for a few seconds and pulls away once more, “all day, mi dulzura.”

He glances up at you while you pant and look a little dazed from the mind-blowing orgasm he has just put you through. A smirk spreads across his face. “But I need to feel you wrapped tightly around me too,” he crawls up the bed, over the top of you and nestles himself between your legs. “Is that what you want, too? To take me deep inside?”

Once again, the image his words paint in your mind makes you ripple beneath him. Your hips bucking upwards slightly, seeking penetration, searching for the warmth of his hardened length. “Yes, please…” you moan for him as your need to be stretched around his cock increases exponentially.

After two recent nights of intimacy between the both of you, Miguel has already grown accustomed to the sensation of making love with someone again - not like it was ever a problem for you in the first place.

His hand travels down between the both of you to get himself positioned at your entrance. The tip of his member glistens as his pre-cum mixes with your arousal while he teases it up and down between your folds.

Another uncontrollable buck of your hips briefly pushes him in further, making the both of you gasp and moan.

The helping hand now returns to the side of your head before he begins to bury himself inside while he watches you dissolve with pleasure again. His breath dances across your face as he sinks deeper and deeper until he bottoms out.

“You feel so damn good, mi dulzura…” Miguel grunts as he draws his hips back again before starting a steady rhythm of thrusts.

Miguel is by far the biggest you’ve ever had, and you feel so full with him inside, taking up every inch and stretching your walls around him. Not only does he feel incredible, he also looks good on top of you. His perfectly defined form flexing with every movement, and his stunning face etched in pleasure is just the perfect picture to be looking up at while your head is swimming in a haze.

With every strong pump of his hips, he drags his pelvis against yours, generating lusty moans and groans between the both of you.

You feel the sheet either side of your head crumple as he screws his hands into fists.

While you pant heavily, your left hand rises up to the back of his head, tugging at his hair, while your right caresses from his red spider tattoo on his neck down his chest, abs and finally coming to a rest on the small of his back. You feel how his hips thrust that extra bit further forward at the peak of each pump, making your jaw drop as the sensation gets you closer to losing your mind.

“Mhmmm…” you mewl between heavy breaths. He’s so deep inside you that it feels like his tip is kissing your cervix, making you yelp slightly with a little bit of pain mixing in with your irresistible pleasure.

“You like that, mi dulzura? You like how deep I am inside?” Miguel huffs as he maintains his movements, his heavily-lidded red eyes gaze down upon you. He feels your hand pulling him in more with each thrust, and he adds more emphasis and grins widely when he watches you melt further into his mattress.

Every thrust is attentive and fluid in motion, his rhythm is steady and resolute while his movements drive you closer to a second climax.

“I want to feel you clench on me,” he growls into your ear as he lowers his body closer to yours, turning up the heat between you several notches. “Come undone for me again, mi dulzura.”

His words make you feel like they have control over you, or you just simply enjoy him talking dirty while balls deep inside you. Encouraging you to fall over the edge for him. Every word, every syllable sends tingles around your body and winds an invisible key that tightens your walls, building up your next orgasm.

A triumphant smile spreads across his face as he feels that sensation for himself inside you. He can tell you’re close. Your breathing has become quicker and more shallow. “That’s it,” he pants more heavily, his breath hot against your cheek. “Let go, mi dulzura.”

Your back arches tremendously as your body ignites with pleasure for a second time that morning. The combined noises of your moans and his groans fill the air as you release together. Your low spirits certainly feel lifted after Miguel’s skillful treatment.

The pair of you lay together, still intertwined as the remnants of your shared climaxes slowly ebb away and the afterglow begins.

He kisses you tenderly while keeping you trapped below him. His lips wander slowly around your face until they finally meet yours. After pulling away again, he begins to mumble to you. “You are a smart, intelligent woman. Any new workplace should consider themselves lucky having you. I’m sure you’ll find something soon to replace the Daily Bugle,” his voice is soft as his breath plays across your skin.

You pull him close, letting his head rest on your chest, allowing him that sweet treat of him listening to your heart. He settles against you a little more, but is mindful not to squash you.

Before he falls asleep, he lets you go. Allowing you to get up and enjoy your day. Being trapped underneath a weighty vampire is only fun for a little while. Although, he would love to have you around him all the time as his sweet smelling and tasting human. You nourish him in not only your blood sometimes, but with affection and indulge him with experiences he thought he’d never experience again. To say that he thinks of you as a keeper, is an understatement.

The following evening, the vampires have arisen once again while you, Lyla and MJ wind down before bed time.

In hushed tones, Miguel and Peter speak to one another in a quieter part of the shelter.

“I’m telling you Miguel, I want to be involved in bringing Morbius down-”

“No. It’s too dangerous. It’s my fault he’s still around,” Miguel interjects, desperately trying to close off the subject.

Now armed with the vampire-mist ability, he has a much better chance at catching Morbius off guard and destroying him. He wants it to be swift and as subtle as possible. But first he has to draw up a plan.

Miguel thought it was a good idea to involve Peter with gathering ideas, but now a minor argument is unfolding instead.

“You’re not alone this time, Miguel. Stop acting like you have to be the one to fix this mess. In fact, if I asked everyone here, I bet they’d want a piece of Morbius too-”

“No!” Miguel snaps while maintaining a relatively quiet voice. “Don’t you dare ask them,” he hisses while he fruitlessly reaches out to grab Peter as he steps away.

“Hey guys,” he calls out, gathering everyone’s attention in the communal part of the shelter. “Who’s up for taking Morbius down?” he continues as he receives a heavy nudge from Miguel.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” he growls subtly to Peter.

Silence falls upon the old subway station as everyone looks at the two men. Finally, Hobie stands and straightens his leather jacket, his badges glinting under the light above. “Thought you’d never ask.”

After seeing Hobie go first, Gwen stands with him, her face full of determination. To Miguel’s surprise, he watches the entire collection of vampires stand until Peni makes a move.

“No, absolutely not. You’re just a child. In fact most of you are, technically. I can’t allow this,” Miguel shakes his head and starts to pace the room.

“All of us want a go at taking him down, Miguel,” Peter continues his argument, however he speaks in a more calm tone.

An exasperated huff leaves Miguel’s lips as his shoulders slump, his resolve is weakening. It seems arguing with the entire group is going to be an uphill battle. “Morbius is my responsibility-”

“Says who?” Peter retorts.

“He’s fucked all our lives up, man. We should get a say if we want to take part in makin’ sure he can’t destroy anyone else’s,” Hobie joins in, folding his arms, his expression stern. His response is met with nods of agreement from the other younger vampires.

Feeling the pressure mounting on him, Miguel finally folds. “Fine!” he throws his hands up in the air. “Fine, okay. You guys win.” A large hand runs through his hair as he continues to think. “But we need to find out some things. Firstly, where to find him and secondly, how to lure him out.”

Hobie’s hand goes straight for his jeans pocket to fish out his phone. “I can ask my connection with the cops to give us some access to the CCTV network? See if we can spot him movin’ about the city?”

Miguel rests his hands on his hips, deep in thought. “We could start there. Once we get his rough location, we can work out the rest.”

With a nod, Hobie looks down at his phone and starts tapping away, composing a message to his police contact.

“Lyla, Y/N; I’m going to need you both to investigate the CCTV system during the day. It’ll be safer that way,” Miguel’s command is met with Lyla’s salute and your nod. Now that you don’t have a job to go to anymore, you can dedicate more time to helping your new vampire friends.

A buzzing sound fills the air as Hobie receives a response from his friend. “Got a meeting set up with my contact tomorrow. 10am sound good?”

Both you and Lyla agree to the time of the meeting and you notice Miguel seems to relax a little more. A plan is starting to come together. There is a look of determination in his eyes. A drive to put an end to the beast once and for all.

Since Morbius’s return, Miguel has dreamed of releasing Nueva York from his clutches, and he cannot wait for the red of his foe’s eyes to dim before his body is turned into nothing but ash by his hand.

Thank you for reading part 6 of Vampire Miguel. I hope you are enjoying it so far.

Another 'thank you' this week to my brother who came up with the upside-down kiss suggestion which managed to fit perfectly with a scene I had in mind.

I will be starting part 7 in the coming days. Of course I will release it as soon as I am able.

If you are interested in commissioning me, please click on the link below to find out more.

If you wish to follow me on Twitter, please click on the link below.

#fanfic #miguel o'hara #atsv miguel #miguel spiderverse #commisions open #smut #fem reader #female reader #reader x character #readerxmiguelohara #vampiremiguel

15 notes · View notes

moonlit-ocs · 3 days ago

Text

Sweethearts

The Story of Young Justice’s Leila al Ghūl

part 1 part 2 part 3 part 4 part 5 part 6 part 7

—————

STAR CITY

Sometime in 2007

Leila ran into Roy’s arms the moment she laid eyes on him. “I thought you were dead.” She mumbled into his shoulder as he hesitated to hug back—shocked that she had even gotten this close to embrace him. His arms wrapped tightly around her once he grasped reality once again.

“Should we be worried our sidekicks are…hugging?” Oliver asked Bruce, whose glare was enough to answer that question. “No?”

“Call yours what you want, but Leila has far too much experience on her to be referred to as my sidekick.” Bruce warned him as politely as he could possibly manage. “As for them hugging…” Ollie noticed a small smirk form on Bruce’s face, “this is the first time I’ve ever seen her act her age. They both should be able to do that, don’t you think?”

“I—uh—yes. Yes, I do. It’s just…” Ollie trailed off, watching as the assassin held onto his young ward and checked his wounds, grabbed his face, spoke to him so softly as he bounced back from something as traumatic as a kidnapping where he was missing for three months. “I think Leila is great.”

“You’re worried about her background.” Bruce replied. “She’s been with me for six years. There have been no issues. She’s privvy to almost all of of our intelligence within the Justice League. Why would you doubt her?” Oliver sighed, disappointed in his own racing thoughts.

“I don’t…I’m just worried I already messed the kid up. Bringing him into the Life and within months he was taken from me—I just want to protect him.” His admittance earned him a pat on the back from Bruce, a rare occurrence he’d never forget.

“You can’t protect him from growing up.” Bruce told him. “But right now, be glad it isn’t more complicated. Leila and Roy are in the Life, they understand each other better than anyone else ever could. Just like you and Dinah.” Ollie smiled at the thought, then looked at the two sweethearts who were completely ecstatic to be able to see each other again.

“This is really the first time you’ve seen her act her age?” Ollie had known Leila for about five years and he couldn’t recall a single time she acted her age as he combed through the memories. Maybe small glances here and there with Roy, but he’d never even considered she shared the feelings Roy did.

“She’s never been able to break out of the assassin mentality. She’s always on guard, she still views herself as a weapon. I didn’t know how to help her until you recruited Roy.” Bruce explained, his voice showing his frustration for being a parent.

“That sounds an awful lot like you’re playing a game with my sidekick.” Oliver retorted.

“No games. Just human nature.” Bruce corrected him. “I really didn’t know if Leila was capable of feeling that way for a person, but being around someone her own age—one who shares her struggles—made a huge difference in her quality of life. And odds are that it won’t work out since they’re young, but this is an improvement.”

“Bruce, I think this is the longest conversation we’ve ever had.” Oliver noted.

“That’s because it was an important one. Especially now that you have a kid to take care of.” Bruce told him.

“What about your new kid, Dick? Leila getting along with him?” Oliver continued the conversation, trying not to take offense to Bruce’s previous comment.

“She is. Being a ‘big sister’ is something I believe will be very important to her in the long run.” Bruce continued to observe Leila, feeling a weight lifting from his shoulders. “He’s still working through his issues, but she’s there for him every step of the way and he honestly adores her. Called her a ‘badass’ then asked if he was allowed to curse.” Oliver let out a good chuckle, glad to hear everything was going well for them. “Let’s give them some privacy while we discuss some matters for the Justice League.”

Leila grabbed Roy’s hand as they sat on the bench together, he felt this was scarier than being taken. “Are you messing with me?” Roy asked, a tad on edge as he was still decompressing from the rescue.

“No. Why would you say that?” Leila felt agitated as she had just let her guard down.

“I just…I thought you were all work and no play. Like Batman.” Roy’s explanation made her stifle a bit of laughter. “No, I didn’t mean—I just meant that I didn’t think you noticed me.”

“It’s good to have you back, Harper.” She kissed. him on the cheek. “Is that good enough for you?” He nodded swiftly and took this as a lesson that the Life was different than what most people view life as. For him, he might get to ask out an assassin princess.

—————

STAR CITY

May 16, 17:43 PDT

2009

“Will you two please smile?” Alfred requested with his camera in position, aimed at Leila and Roy in their Prom getups. “I travelled all this way and I can’t even get a nice photo.” The pair cracked a smile upon hearing Alfred’s complaints and appeased him once he snapped a photo. “Bruce, stand with your daughter.” Bruce entered the frame to take a picture with Leila, Ollie and Dinah popped into a few, Dick photobombed phenomenally, Roy looked like he was about to burst a blood vessel, and the two of them went off to prom together—limousine included. Oliver and Bruce agreed on one thing alone.

“So are they calling each other boyfriend and girlfriend yet? It’s been years of this crap. For god’s sake, they’re going to his prom together!” Oliver began to rant. “They obviously love each other, I don’t know why they can’t commit.”

“Don’t get caught up in the kid’s love life, Oliver. They’re less than ordinary, this is what they’re comfortable with.” Bruce told him. “I try not to comment on it with Leila, I know she still feels…off when she does ‘normal’ things.”

“It’s been eight years, Bruce. Her ‘normal’ is always going to be putting the fight first.” Dinah interjected with her expertise. “You can’t change how she was raised, and she traded one burden for another. I’m just happy she’s able to express herself more freely these days.” The trio agreed and watched their kids leave for their party, feeling guilt for the loss of their childhoods.

—————

STAR CITY

May 16, 19:04 PDT

2009

Roy’s classmates were in awe of his date, jealous of the recognizable girl on his arm. “Is that Leila Wayne?” The whispers started. “She came all the way from the east coast to be Harper’s prom date? Rich people…” Roy and Leila ignored the gossip and cherished the night together, enjoying one another’s company.

“You look beautiful, you know.” Roy complimented as he slow danced with her.

“And you clean up nice.” She kissed him with a small peck and he was starting to get used to her gentler gaze. Almost like she forgot her anger and pain when she looked at him. “Weird, isn’t it?”

“What?” Roy asked.

“Being around people our age.” The room buzzed with noise. Dozens of teenagers with homework and parties and drama had no idea what the two had faced. “They have no idea who we really are.”

“Might be a good thing.” He brushed her hair from her cheek. “We deserve to have a normal day or two.”

“We barely even count as normal with the masks off, we’re trust fund kids.” Leila looked down at her very expensive green gown embellished with a necklace belonging to Martha Wayne. “Like, filthy rich trust fund kids.”

“Okay, you’ve got me there.” He smirked with a tilt of his head, spinning her around once and dipping her near the floor. “But just pretend.”

“I kind of want to get out of here.” She admitted with a devious glint of her eyes.

“Already?” He chuckled.

“A rooftop’s more romantic than this sweaty gym.” She pulled him by the hand and snuck out the back doors, and Roy heard her giggling in a way he’d heard few times before.

The two changed into their suits, then Speedy and Demonspawn took on the night. And it felt right being them, they could take on the world together. “You look beautiful dressed as a ninja, too.” Speedy commented with a wink.

“Yeah, you might need to work on your outfit a bit.” She playfully replied. “I still enjoyed your prom, don’t get me wrong. I just like this better.”

“I know.” Speedy and Demonspawn watched the lights of the Star City bridge from afar, both excited and nervous for the team up they’d snuck off for, but deep down they knew their mentors were watching from afar. “You still have your eyeshadow on.”

—————

#leila al ghul oc #dc comics oc #young justice oc #roy harper #will harper

0 notes

theotheroccassionalfanficwriter · 4 years ago

Note

I read your writings and... WHEW! THEY'RE REALLY GOOD! 💦💦💦💦 A✨M✨A✨Z✨I✨N✨G

Anyway, may I request NSFW/Explicit Zhongli x reader where y/n is a mage who requires constant archon energy to keep her life? Like, if she doesn't get archon's "energy", she'll die? Yknow, the usual hentai manga plot. 😏

Thank you for this first fuck and die request anon your mind is 👌✨👏👌🤯🤯🤯

In Pursuit of Knowledge

Summary: As one of his beloved citizen, it was only right for Zhongli to ensure your continued survival. He was after all quite fond of you.

If the people of Liyue spared a thought on the type of woman that the esteemed Wangsheng funeral parlor consultant would bed, you would not be on the list of their consideration. The stark contrast of Mr. Zhongli’s measured and composed manner, love for tradition and order completely clashed with your untamed and heretical thoughts that threw away tradition and order.

Though Liyue respected and moved towards the winds of change, it did so without forgetting its tradition unlike you who took tradition apart and reformed it into something completely unrecognizable. Your innovation borders the heresy of Khaenri’ah. Your acts of genius toeing the line between blasphemy and reverence for the holy.

Thus, no one would ever think that the esteemed Mr. Zhongli would take you to his bed, every night. Spreading your legs wide as his large cock slipped in and out of your pussy, firmly gripping your legs as he plowed you.

Each thrust calculated to bring you the most pleasure as he fed you his Geo energy, circulating it through the veins of your body as you sobbed with pleasure. Despite his calculated movements, Zhongli was a mess. His hair was flowing freely and some strands were sticking to his face and chest.

His neck and arms were littered with bites and scratches from the earlier round. Zhongli had wasted no time in removing your clothes from the moment you had entered his bedroom, weakly, at the end of the day. Your curse doing its duty of robbing you of life without an Archon’s energy. It was the price you paid for one of your pursuits of knowledge. And Zhongli, who had grown fond of you and your insane acts of genius, lent his help.

“Zhongli-” You moaned as he thrusted into you, “I-no more…” You cried as you came once more. Heedless of the fact that Zhongli had spilled his seed inside you countless of times.

“You’ll be exploring a ruin tomorrow,” He reminded you, voice gentle even as his thrusts were rough and his bite marks hard “And I can’t accompany you to provide you “energy” that you need.”

You blushed at the reminder that Zhongli would often accompany you on such trips and would shamelessly remove your clothes to provide you enough energy to sustain your life. Trial and error had led you both to the conclusion that other than his blood, his cum was the second best carrier of the energy you needed to keep on living.

Your vehement disgust at drinking his blood had led to this activity. Every night, as soon as the sun sets in the horizon, you would make your way into Zhongli’s home. Letting him shed his mortal form and spreading your legs to receive Rex Lapis’ archon energy.

It had been a long time since the first night and yet Zhongli never failed to make you feel shy.

Your continued silence coupled with your embarrassed face led Zhongli to a different conclusion, “Or perhaps, you would prefer to receive my energy while on your exploration?”

He leaned close to you, eyes shining like cor lapis and closer to a dragon than that of a human. Zhongli had removed his hand from your legs and instead placed it on your large and soft tits that bore the mark of his sharp teeth.

“That’s not-” You sucked in a breath as Zhongli pinched your nipple.

He hummed softly, before he moved away and then turned you over to lay on your stomach. Your ass and cum filled pussy presented before him. And he began your 10th round of sex, your pussy had easily accepted his large and fat cock, mouth opening to let loose sounds of pleasure as the sound of slapping echoud loudly in Zhongli’s room.

He held your waist tightly as he moved to and fro, sliding his cock back and forth inside your wet and cum filled pussy. His previous cum slipped out with each thrust and acted as a lube. The headrest of the bed banged on the wall in perfect rhythm as Zhongli fucked you hard in the bed.

You moaned and cried out, begging him for mercy as your overly stimulated pussy came once more, and again as you felt the pulse of Geo energy flowing through your body. Your lewd cries, however, where covered by the sudden formation of a jade dildo.

And Zhongli’s hand gripped your cheeks, forcing your mouth open as your body rocked with pleasure from Zhongli’s thrusts, the jade dildo entered your mouth and muffled your cries and moans. He was worthy of being the Geo Archon with his mastery of forging.

Your hands were now being held by chains of jade that appeared to be attached to the ceiling, pulsating with the geo energy you had come to recognize as uniquely Zhongli’s. You moaned once more as his thrust and the pulsating pleasure of the Geo Energy from the geo mark on the chains synced with each other.

Your body felt hot as Zhongli’s hand traveled down your hips and to your pussy, circling your clit and forcing another orgasm out of you. The jade dildo on your mouth pulsated with Geo energy, your drool fell onto Zhongli’s soft silk covers.

Even so it didn’t stop him from fucking you raw, cock slipping in and out of you with ease as he hit your g-spot again and again, driving you mad with pleasure as your cunt twitch and Zhongli came inside you again with a hard grunt just as you were shocked with the sudden thrust of the Jade dildo down your throat and the warm liquid geo energy that came down your throat and settled into the pit of your stomach.

Zhongli panted, “I’m sorry, my dear” He apologized without any sincerity, “I want to make sure you would be safe tomorrow.”

Drunk on the over abundance of his energy, you could only dumbly look at him in a haze of post coital orgasm. Your cunt twitching as Zhongli scooped up the excess cum and shoving it back into your pussy, your soft moans did nothing to lessen his desire for you. If anything it had only made him want to fuck you more, to spill his essence inside of you beyond what you required.

‘Everything must be taken into moderation’ Zhongli thought as he formed another Jade dildo, to plug your cunt and ensure that you would have enough energy to spare for tomorrow’s activities.

A casual observer would have long noticed that Zhongli’s particular attentiveness to prolonging your mortal lifespan had already exceeded that of a normal friend’s or an admirer of innovation. However, as most of Liyue and your acquaintances, both shared and not, spared no thought at the consequences of your inherent curiosity born of being a genius, and Zhongli’s fondness for your shenanigans.

And thus, with a gentleness only spared for lovers, Zhongli began to clean you up, paying no mind to his still erect cock. There was still tomorrow morning to release the rest of his seed inside you after all.

Come morning, you found yourself bended over the dining table, your shorts were dropped on the floor, as Zhongli’s cock slid in and out of your still sensitive pussy.

“Fontaine’s invention of this easy-access underwear truly helps us out,” Zhongli praised as his hand rested on the spread out cheeks of your ass, exposing your asshole and cum filled pussy to the cold morning air. Of course, the lacy black underwear with gold trim on the slit wonderfully showcased your dripping cunt, the edges of the golden trim stained with your pussy juice and Zhongli’s cum.

“Mnnn-why?” You moaned as Zhongli’s cock brushed over your g-spot, you angled your ass to ensure that his next thrust would hit it and give you the orgasm you were longing for, but a slap on your asscheeks signaled Zhongli’s want for your obedience.

“I reckon, you wouldn’t be pleased if I ruined one more pair of your underwear” He teased as he gave you hard thrust that had the table shaking and your cunt clenching, “a pity we don’t have enough time to make you drink straight from the source.”

You felt your heart spike at the thought and knew from the amused chuckle behind you that Zhongli clearly saw through your thoughts.

“Perhaps, I’ll visit you at lunch.”

Underneath his teasing tone, you clearly heard his intent to show up at the ruins. The mere thought of Zhongli fucking you relentlessly in the exposed ruins of Dunyu was enough to make you cum and as his hands tightly gripped your ass, you felt another splash of heat inside you. Zhongli didn’t move his cock outside of you, instead remaining for a few moments before he slowly slipped his cock out.

You made a move to stand but the firm hand on your back stopped you and you felt the familiar pulse of his dildo slip in. The cold jade contrasted to the warm heat of your cum filled pussy.

“Zhongli?”

“The Dunyu ruins are filled with Fatui members, this is just a precaution in case you need to fight...using your magic” He explained before grabbing your shorts and gently dressed you up.

His hand ghosted over your crotch, groping it and pushing the dildo further in, he whispered, “Just making sure it stays put.”

You blushed, not believing a single word as you shakily pushed him away and made your way to the front door. Each step you took made you keenly aware of the cum swishing inside your pussy, the dildo moving up and down with every step.

‘Today’s going to be a long day’ You thought with mild annoyance as you prayed that no one would figure out the reason for your flushed cheeks.

Zhongli smiled at your back, wondering how long it would take for you to realize that your hands were still stained with his cum after he had made you help him fill 5 glass bottles with his essence. The aforementioned bottles clinking noisily and audibly inside your satchel. The feel of your hand and mouth as it stroked and licked his cock was still fresh in his mind.

“Have a good day at work,” He smiled at your soft ‘yeah’ and found himself anticipating today’s lunch. He would afterall, have you for his main course.

#zhongli x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact zhongli x reader

417 notes · View notes

kissme-hs · 4 years ago

Text

𝒮𝒶𝓋𝑜𝓊𝓇𝓎 {𝒸.𝑒}

This concept has been on my mind from a long long time. I just get so fucking turned on seeing him in that gorgeous beard oh my sweet lord. I was going to post it tomorrow but oh well, also i didn’t proof read so pardon me for the mistakes. Hope you enjoy! Please reblog :))

Pairing: Chris Evans x Fem! Reader

Word count: 3.05k

Warning: 18+ smut, oral sex fem receiving and giving, filthy talk, fingering, unprotected sex etc.

.✽✦✽.◦.✽✦✽.°`,◦◦◦◦,`°.✽✦✽.◦.✽✦✽.

He looked breathtaking. Absolutely breathtaking. The way he was sprawled on his mother’s couch that was situated in front of the fire place made your mouth water whilehis other family members gathered around sitting comfortably on a spot that makes them warm.

His thick thighs looked so inviting and his arm that rested on the couch top, every flex made his veins move and his hands that ghosted over your neck made you shiver. He run his knuckles on the back of your neck as you turn your head to face him to see him smiling at you.

What a bastard.

And that beard that adorned his cheek, holy Christ only if you could push his head between your legs and let his mouth slurp on your aching throbbing core until your legs are trembling and shaking and you’re begging him to stop.

You found yourself ashamed of getting lost in your deep thoughts of wild fantasy—basically eye fucking the Lisa’s son while his whole family was around present in the room chatting with you two, well mostly him because you were way too tied up in yourself and your pressed together thighs that you were barely fathoming any word that they uttered.

But how could you not?

He looked like an absolute sex god, with his Andy Barber phase fluffy hair and that beard. That navy blue t-shirt that seemed a little tight on him showing you his ever muscle and highlighting his biceps.

And again there you were, thinking about how good it’s feel when his arms are around your waist while he pounds mercilessly into you, his face hidden in the crook of your neck while you clutch onto this biceps wanting to release.

But oh that beard.

Though you wanted to feel it in between your legs, there was no possible way to describe how bad you wanted to feel it against your lips. Your fingers ached to grab onto his cheeks as your tongue plays with his whilst his hand grabs onto your titties as they usually do.

Snapping out of your wild thinking you found your lower lip tucked between your teeth and a noticeable change in the pace of your breathing. You knew you need it, need to feel him.

“Um, excuse me?” You said out of nowhere cutting of Chris’s childhood story that he was busy telling Scott’s boyfriend. Your sudden action made him furrow his eyebrows as you felt his eyes follow you out of the living room disappearing in the corridor. He turned his head back to meet his mother’s worries facial expression.

“Is she okay chris? Go check on her”

He nods obliging his mother and his own worry towards you as to why you had to excuse yourself from the room full of people you adored. Maybe it was a little stomach bug, he thought.

His bare feet pads over the hardwood floor as he stops when comes across the bathroom far away from the people talking in living area, he knocks on the door twice.

“Baby, honey are you okay?”

“Yeah I’m fine” no you’re not. You need him.

“Baby let me in” he nudges the door gently only to be disappointed when he notices it’s locked. Sighing he faces close to the door.

“Cmon sweetie”

The concern that dripped down his voice made you feel guilty as you open the door, but as soon as you come across his beautifully handsome face, the brightest blue eyes, the perfect nose and the plumpest lips you couldn’t help but pull him inside with a strong tug and close the door behind him.

You did take him by surprise, but it wasn’t anything compared to when your fingers started fiddling with the buckle of his belt trying to get it lose open, your lips attaching to the veins on his neck as you press your body firmly against his.

He took the sign. After all he did know you like the back of his hand.

So when you finally succeeded in not only getting his pants down his legs but also managing to get him rock hard with just your feathery kisses on his delicate skin of neck your lips turned up in a little smirk until his fingers lifted your face up by your cheek to meet his eyes.

The dilated pupils burned into yours while he stared at you—now with lust, concern washed away long time back.

“What’s got you so worked up huh?” He spoked pulling your groin close to him, close enough for you to feel his growing bulge.

“I- this” you whispered biting your lips as your eyes shift’s their gaze from his eyes to his beard and then down to the swell in his pants, well aware of how intense effect it had on Chris. ‘Makes me lose my mind and bend you over until I fuck you like a slut’ says Chris. Your hand grabs over his jeans as you rubbed your palm against it making him shut his eyes close, lashed resting beautifully on the apple of his cheek as he leans his head back against the door, giving you a perfect access to his exposed neck.

Thanking the heels that you still had on it made it no difficult for you (which usually is due to the height difference) to bring your lips close to the veins popping on his neck and placing opened mouth kisses. You knew neck kisses drives him nuts, and you were in no shock when you felt his big hands grab your butt and giving it a rough squeeze causing you to moan which you quickly covered by biting down on his shoulder.

“fuck” that’s all he could manage to utter the minute you got down on your knees within a blink of an eye. With his belt already undone it made it easier for you to just slide his jeans down along with the boxers, too worked up to tease him now.

As soon as the cotton material of his boxers came down his thick thighs, his hard shaft sprung against his lower belly. Red tip, leaking and veins clearly visible due to the hardness watered your mouth.

“Go on baby, take that fucking cock in your little mouth” he said through gritted teeth trying to be as hushed as possible with his family only mere steps away. Collecting your hair in his hands he forced your face up to look at him and you did, in every filthy way possible. With your eyes staring at him through your lashes, you grabbed his thick shaft and gave it a good few pump which already trembled his whole body before licking it from the bottom all the way to the top, not breaking the eye contact. And once you reached his aching swollen tip, you licked the slit collected the salty juices and tapped his heavy cocked on your stuck out tongue.

It looked nothing less than a porn scene, with you on your knees sucking his cock in his mother’s bathroom while he’s leaning on the door holding your hair in his hand pushing your head further to feel the tip of his dick in the back of your throat, his face covered in the most satisfied expression. Swear could’ve had a million hits.

Your wrist moved around his base ever so lightly adding a little pressure even then so squeezing it making his body jump with pleasure. And your other hand rolled his balls in the palm of your hand while you drooled on his cock with his every thrust, gagging.

“That’s it, take my fucking cock like the slut you are” he moaned fucking your mouth as you continued deepthroating not caring about the tears that ran down your face smudging your mascara and his thick dick ruining your lipstick. Pulling him out of your hollowed cheek with a ‘pop’ you lowered your face to take his ball in your mouth.

With his dick held up with your hand you sucked on his balls, licking them with your tongue whilst his eyes stay fixed on you, observing your every move, you lips, the way you hollowed your cheek and suckled on his thick shaft effortlessly made his muscles clench and soon he was cumming down your throat.

Pulling away with strings of your saliva from your lips you wiped the mess with the back of your hand after gulping down every drop of his cum you stood up straight and the second after his lips were hot and heavy on your swollen ones.

Kissing you heard before biting down your lower lip he pulled away.

“Meet me out in 5 minutes, we’re leaving right now!” and with that he fixed his hair and left you alone in the bathroom to collect yourself, fix your look and follow him out where you were met by pair of questioning eyes.

“I’m good guys, just an upset stomach”

“yeah ma I am gonna take her home, she needs to rest. Thanks for the dinner and see you soon” kissing his mother’s head he hugged everyone goodbye as you did too before you guys collected your belongs with your coats and wallet and found your way to his black SUV.

Once seated inside you could feel the sexual tension rising between you two as you buckled yourself in, trying your best way possible to look innocent.

He does the same, buckling himself in and driving off his mother’s driveway onto the main road. Gaze fixed on the road, hand gripping the wheel tightly almost as if he’s trying to control another orgasm.

“you couldn’t wait could you” he asked head straight ahead.

“no”

“why”

“you looked hot”

“what made you so horny”

“your beard”

“what about it?” stopping at the red signal he finally turned his head to have a look at your face. Flushed up and looking ever red with the back lights of the cars in front. You bite your lip once again out of habit this time, something you do when you’re either nervous or just horny, which in this case you were to the extreme.

“i-I just can’t stop thinking about your face between m-“

“here?” he cut you off, when his hands pulled your legs apart in a swift motion and his fingers dipped down inside your panties. He could feel the wetness of your socked panties on the back of his hand as he slowly draws circle on your throbbing clit. Your hand gripping his wrist as you spread your legs further apart allowing him more access.

“Yes, fuck I wanna feel your beard on my skin while you eat me out baby. Wanna feel you so good in me tonight.” You moaned as the car stopped at another red signal, the one just before you exits the main road for you house and this time he couldn’t control his eagerness so leaning over he grabs the back of your neck and hides his face in it, kissing the gentle skin with roughness and impatience.

His teeth dug in your skin, biting and nipping gently causing you to let you head fall on the window as his hand rubs your pussy and lips kisses your neck.

Oh how amazing it felt feeling the scruffiness of his beard on your skin. Just like you wanted.

“shit” Chris muttered under his breath when he heard the car behind honk, probably because he didn’t pay attention when the red turned green and he raced the car down the room stopping straight at your big driveway. And the way from the porch of the house all the way to the bedroom was a complete rush. With clothes discarded on the floor and your mouth attached together not breaking apart to even breath he pushed you up against the wall of your bedroom.

Hands held on your either side his lips left yours leaving you breathless to make their way down from your jawline to the crook of your neck. His facial hair did tickle you ever so then but again the rubbing of it against your supple skin felt amazing and you could feel yourself dripping down a little with the arousal.

His hands that were holding yours now supported your bum as he lifted you up with you wrapping your legs around his waist. Your front rubbing against his belly probably smudging your wetness around his, you enjoyed the feeling of it while lasted before he threw you on the bed and his body hovered you the second within.

“Gonna eat that fucking pussy so good baby” he said as he eyed your body with those lusty eyes but soon he had to break his gaze when he felt you pull him down by his dangling necklace.

“I want you to eat me until I tell you to stop” You whispered against his ear and boy he felt his dick twitch. And your wish was his command, so his lips made their way down your neck to your perched up nipples. Grabbing your right titty in his hand he rolled it against his palm while his lips suckled on your left nipple. His eyes closed breathing heavy as he lets go of it and attacks the other pebble hard nipple.

His warm tongue felt amazing on your sensitive buds while it flicked and rolled your nipple around making your arch your back. Hands grabbing his soft brown hair pushing his head down to where you needed the most making him chuckle as he placed tinny kisses down the way to your pussy.

“eager little slut you are” he whispered and pushed your legs apart, your core glistened with the wetness that caused which made his mouth water to get a taste of that beauty. Throwing your leg over his shoulder he kissed your inner thighs softly and slowly making you roll your hips with growing impatience.

“please” you whined

“please what?”

“please tongue me, eat me out baby” you pushed his face down with any shame one your core.

Smiling to self he took a deep sniff of your aroused sex that drove him insane before laying his tongue flat against your lips, pushing through up and licking the juices up. The saliva that his tongue carried made it easier for him to glide it along your smooth skin stopping when it felt the bundle of nerve.

Knowing you and your body with like the back of his hand never failed him to find your clit. In fact he didn’t need to find it, after being together for all these years it would be shame if he didn’t.

“such a tasty cunt” he moaned against your pussy before sucking up on your clit and pulling on it until you squirmed beneath him. Pushing your hips down by his hand he held your waist as while his tongue flicks over and over against your aching core. His beard rubbing on your skin tickled it again but how could you complaint.

His lips on your cunt felt incredible. And your pussy tasted delicious on his tongue. If he could, he would eat you out every month which he possibly could.

Holding your tit in your hand you kept your eyes shut feeling the plump of his lips around your pussy until his tongue dipped inside your opening hitching your breath.

“shit baby oh my god, just like that. Tongue fuck this pussy of yours”

The words of appreciation boosted his ego like a rocket and his tongue paced up. Dipping in and out and then slurping the juices off your pussy soon to be replaced by long slender finger that stretch you out deliciously.

Feeling your tight silky walls against his fingers as he pumped them in keeping his mouth on your core he felt the growing neediness in himself, as much he wanted to taste your sweet cum on his tongue dripping down his chin and slurp every drop of it, he also wanted to put his hard dick inside you and fuck until you cannot walk.

So detaching himself from your cunt (which was a bit sad for him) he was once again pulled down by you attaching your lips on him, tasting your own sweet self. You knew he wanted to fuck you, you knew his dick was probably aching by now with hardness so you pumped his shaft from in between your bodies before lining himself in front of you.

“nuh huh, slut gets the rough way” and with that he flipped you over on your belly and held your hips up, basically face down ass up and without a further word he pushed himself inside of you.

Grabbing you by your waist he thrusted inside you moving your body to match his rhythm as you did. His every thrust outstretch you so gracefully as he licked his hand and across your thigh placed it on your clit so he could rub the nerve bud.

“You feel so good oh my god” he moaned rocking his hips forward into yours as you kept your face hidden in the pillow, your tits bouncing with ever push he gave you. It wasn’t later than that when you felt the coil in your stomach burning up, he did leave you before without a release so it was no shame that you felt yourself on the edge of within 15 minutes of his dick inside you.

And even Chris was close, the soft cushiony walls and the continuous clenches squeezed and warmed his cock making his toe curls as he lowered himself against your back kissing your shoulder. You knew he was close, the minute he starts softening up from all dom that’s the time he his about to cum.

So taking in the sign you gave him a one hard clench followed up by his rough push that hit your G-spot to the utter level of pleasure that your legs trembled and soon you were coming undone with him. His cum dripped down your thigh as he laid on top on your back not pulling out, enjoying the now innocent moment of intimacy with the person he loves.

“I’m never shaving again”

“Bold of you to assume you were even allowed to”

#AGHHH #SO #GOOD #chris evans #chris evans imagines #chris evans x reader #chris evans x female reader #chris evans x y/n #chris evans x you #chris evans fanfiction #Chris evans smut #chirs evans writings #cevans #marvel #steve rogers imagines #steve rogers

835 notes · View notes

autumn-writes · 4 years ago

Note

Can i get komeada with a Fem! S/o who willingly Claims they're a talentless recourse student, but when he reads her Files later, it turns out she purposely Lied, and is in fact non other than the ULTIMATE hope

certainly! i've been thinking of how to write this request for a while, and with a lot of changes of decision, i decided to make this a one shot. sorry this took a while, hope you're still with me nonnie.

Hidden Hope

Nagito Komaeda x Reader

﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏

Nagito had always thought you were suspicious, ever since the very first day he met you.

"My name is S/O S/N. I... Unfortunately do not have a talent, but I hope to work well with you all."

Confusion. That was all I he could feel about your presence. Why was a talentless person put with a group filled with symbols of hope? Sure, he didn't consider himself a part of the group but at least he had a talent, despite it being trashy.

The announcement of the killing school trip had been a shocker to everyone. Everyone was forced to live their lives on this trip on edge, in fear of the next second possibly being their final.

Nagito didn't know how to act, but he certainly wasn't going to treat you nice. I mean, what worth do you have, possessing no talent that could make you a harbinger of hope for the future? You don't deserve the kindness he would treat others with. Not at all.

The first trial had arrived fast. The death of Byakuya Togami, the Ultimate Progeny has happened. Nagito, along with a certain someone was aware of all the things that happened. After all, the Progeny's death was caused by them.

Things seemed hopeless, the situation not going well at all. Clues could barely be scraped and as for the truth? Everyone seemed like they had been thrown into a sea with a metal weight around their leg as they desperately tried their best to swim upwards and survive. Everything was going terribly wrong. This trip wasn't supposed to—

And that's when you spoke up.

"You all can't fall into despair so easily! The truth, we're close. We have to be. Don't lose hope!"

There. The phrase "don't lose hope" left your lips.

Nagito sneered, basically mocking you of your words.

"And what exactly would talentless student know of hope? Please, you probably don't know what you're talking about."

Everyone fell silent at Nagito's words. It wasn't that they agreed with him, they just couldn't—

"If I know one thing, Komaeda, it's that I know hope better than anyone else."

Since that time, your words have been engraved in Nagito's mind.

"If I know one thing, Komaeda, it's that I know hope better than anyone else."

Something was up with you. The words that you spoke to him, they were filled with so much... Seriousness. It didn't seem like you were messing around when you said that.

Trial after trial had passed, classmates and friends slowly falling like flies. Until, the fourth.

Nekomaru Nidai, who had been turned into a robot, was murdered. And the culprit? One of the students, of course. That's how this game works.

To be of use, Nagito had decided to go through the Final Dead Room, a room where a game of life or death stay present. You either make it out alive, or your corpse rots inside.

The Final Dead Room was no match for the male's deduction. He had gone through the escape room as if it were a breeze.

The door of the room opened, revealing a revolver and some bullets. Ah, so he was supposed to play Russian Roulette.

Not wasting a second, the male loaded the gun with 5 bullets and pointed it to his head before pulling the trigger, despite Monomi's desperate claims for him to stop. Luckily for him, he survived.

Surviving the game at the highest difficulty, Nagito received two prizes from the bear. One being knowledge of funhouse's structure, and second being a file containing all of the students' information.

'This is it,' Nagito thought. He could finally learn the truth. He could finally learn what your talent was. He doubted your claims before, and he sure as hell still didn't believe in them now.

You were mysterious and suspicious from the get-go. There was just no way you could be talentless. The hope that shines in your eyes... It's even more remarkable than the symbols of hope he had come to worship. There was just some things about you that he knew he didn't know,

and he was determined to find out what they were, starting with your true talent.

He had opened the file, his eyes immediately scanning the pages littered with words that had been absorbed by his mind. Each new discovery only becoming worse and worse.

Leaving the Octagon, Nagito used the secret passage that had been one of his gifts and made his way to Grape House where you, as well as a few others resided for the time being.

Nagito was still flabbergasted from his discoveries. The fact that he and the rest were Remnants of Despair, that they had been using their talents for the despair of mankind, ruining the future. He had found out that Hajime was talentless from the Reserve Course, too.

But that wasn't the most surprising. When he had gotten to your information, he had made a pause before proceeding to read, the words inked on the papers burning into his mind.

'S/O S/N, also known as the Ultimate Hope. They were the only student who had managed to escape the brainwashing performed by the mastermind of it all. S/N, despite doing their best, had failed to pull their classmates out of the Ultimate Despair's hands. Up till today, they most certainly have not given up. They will not stop until Hope is restored within each and every student. At least, that was stated by them.'

Upon reading the information underneath your student profile, Nagito could only think of how he's gotten everything wrong.

He had treated the Ultimate Hope horribly, while the Remnants of Despair had been praised and held up high.

Worthless. Mere dirt on the bottom of your shoe. That was what he was. He'd do anything to make it up to the Ultimate Hope, anything. And that is when his mind had started to think craftily.

You had made observations on things that had changed noticably. You had made note of Nagito's change of attitude directed towards you.

He seemed to worship the air you breathe and the ground you walk on. He helped you during the fourth trial, disregarding everyone else and even throwing his malice at them.

What was up with him? Why the sudden change? You made another note to confront him about it soon.

So now here you are, resting on your bed. You were thinking of how to approach Nagito about what had happened when all of a sudden, a knock on your door disrupted your thoughts.

Looking up at the clock you had, it was 10:00 in the night. Nighttime, to be more precise.

Cautiously, you walked to the door and opened it, and on the other side, you saw the man that you were just thinking about.

Raising an eyebrow at him, he made a motion as if asking you if he could come in, to which you obliged. He had entered your cottage, clutching what seems to be a file.

He took a few steps in, before dropping down to his knees. The file in his arms opening conveniently to the page where your information is written.

Your eyes widened upon catching sight of what was written underneath your profile. So he knows...

"Why didn't you tell anyone? You didn't have to hide anything, S/N. If you had said you were the Ultimate Hope, I— I would've kissed your boots and let you kick dirt in my mouth-! Ha— AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA"

Insane. That was one word to describe him as of now. Nagito looked up at you, the swirling insanity in his green-gray eyes being something you were familiar with already.

He clutched onto your arm, as if he were steadying himself before hoisting himself off the ground. He was still wheezing, laughter not dying down at all.

"You are the Ultimate Hope. The person who I admire. For the Hope of mankind, you must- you must escape! But don't you worry sweet, precious hope. I'll be sure to get you out of here. I could let you kill me—! I'll take them all down with me! You'll get out of here, I'm sure of it.

Even if it's the last thing I do."

You are hope hidden from the rest. The one true hope that can save everyone from despair. It didn't matter to Nagito if he had to die. It didn't matter to him if he had to take them down with him. You were needed. After all, you were...

the hidden hope of mankind. you mustn't die. even if a few sacrifices are made, you must live on.

finally finished this. this took so long anon i'm so so sorry ;;-;; i wasn't contented with the previous endings i've written, so i kept re-writing this till i was finally satisfied with how this went.

i hope you enjoyed this! do tell me if this wasn't to your liking! i'll try my best to re-write it if it wasn't satisfactory. do take care of yourself and stay safe! eat your meals, stay hydrated, and refrain from overworking yourself.

#nagito komaeda x reader #sdr2 x reader #mod mahiru writes #mod mahiru

217 notes · View notes

elfwoodfae · 3 years ago

Text

Writing’s On The Wall

Skyfall Chapter 5

Author’s note: I hope you enjoy this chapter, you know the drill, let me know what you think, I enjoyed writing so much I actually like how it turned out.

Skyfall

The soft notes of a piano resonates through the house, filling his ears, the high keys of the melody making his skin tingle. Finally some peace finds him after the torment this day has been. He strolls further into the house, taking his time to appreciate the quietness that surrounds him. The door to your room slams open, angry footsteps coming his way, your fast approaching presence souring him inside.

“Did you kill her?” Your accusation finds his ears, he turns around, taking his time to observe the details on your face, his eyes trail down your form, taking in the way your arms fold over your chest.

“No.” He replies, moving his eyes back up your form until they land on yours. His ice cold irises burning into yours, igniting the need to look away, a need you refuse to act on.

“Did you pretend to love her?” Your voice breaks as it gets higher, rising with the anger inside of you. “Was it all a lie from the beginning?!” He can see the way your eyes try to hold back the tears, he sees the way your hands fist.

“I never met your sister, or whatever she was to you, I never loved her.” He says, looking away from you, silence consuming the both of you, only interrupted by piano notes surging through the air.

“Then how can you look like him? How can you be Harrison and not be Harrison at the same time! I demand to know!” Your patience is long gone, nothing makes sense anymore.

“First of all, you are in no position to make demands.” He says, snapping his head in your direction.

“I didn’t kill Tess Morgan. Or Harrison Wells. They were already dead when I got there.” He stops, looking like he is thinking something over.

“If it’s of any consolation, I tried to save her, but it was too late.” Lie after lie falls from his lips straight to your ears. He will tell you whatever he has to in order to ensure your behavior and cooperation, he doesn’t need to add more reasons to the list of things to murder him in his sleep for.

To his own surprise he is remaining calm through this whole interaction.

“If those are all of your concerns, I would appreciate if you could disappear from my line of sight, unless you feel the need to insult me or mock me.” He says, dismissingly jabbing at you for mocking his name the previous night.

He watches as you turn around and walk away, stomping your feet harder than necessary. Your sudden anger opens door to his curiosity as to why did you suddenly decided to question him, after all this days where he has barely see you, perhaps the shock of the moment has finally wore off.

He waits, his eyes fixated in your retreating form, watching you walk inside and the door closing behind you, only then he allows a breath to escape him and his eyes to look forward again. You are an insufferable woman he wishes he could despise more, but his body doesn’t cooperate with his mind. For a moment the thought of going after you crosses his mind, but it is so unlike him, he discards it immediately, he has no business being up your ass, no matter how much he wishes he was. He retreats to his office, there is some things he needs to over see, to work on.

Time passes in a flash, in between papers and notes, upgrades to his suit, his brain working on ways to help him hold onto his speed for longer, making sure his timetable remains intact, that your presence won’t affect anything in his plan. Lifting his head off the note he is looking over his eyes move over to the clock, it reads sometime after 10:30 pm, he can see the lights are mostly off from the crack under the door. His neck feels stiff as he gets up, stretching his back after hours of sitting down. With long strides his legs carry him to the door, silently making his way to the kitchen for a drink; he is quieter than death, almost floating through the air as he approaches the counter, stopping when he sees you, stretching up, kneeling in the counter trying to reach a glass sitting on the top shelf. He watches you, the smooth texture of your thigh, the white shirt you are wearing riding up, your hair messy, it reminds him of the first day you stayed here. Your delay in managing your objective is aggravating him; opting to help you sees like the fastest way he will get his own drink without much interaction. He doesn’t think too clearly what his action means when he silently moves behind you, his chest barely grazing your back, making your hand suddenly stop mid air, freezing in motion, his much bigger hand reaches the glass, your eyes following long fingers as they wrap themselves around the neck of the glass. He brings it down, his chest moving against your back at the action, his breath momentarily catching on your neck, his nose close to your skin, and time seems to stop passing him as he gets a whiff of your scent.

His eyes close, in that moment he decides that you smell like the sun, he is so sure of it as he is sure his name is Eobard. You smell like the sun, a sun that could burn him the moment he gets too close, the sun that burns the ocean into submission. It’s the only way he could describe it, the sun, the ocean, of life and wilderness. The wings of an angel, pure and sacred, gracious and divine, things he will never be. He feels the soft touch of feathers enveloping him, the same way your smell does, he feels the waves of an ocean crashing upon him, the warmth of the sun, his hands shake, his hair stands on end and his breathing quickens, he feels at home.

Time resumes its course, his hand connects with yours as he offers you the glass. Your fingers holding onto the glass as if your life depends on it, the reaction to a simple touch shouldn’t feel this exciting, his fingers brushing against yours shouldn’t feel this forbidden. Your breathing quickens, the warmth of his breath touching the curve of your neck warming up the skin, sending waves of excitement through your torso, down your stomach. The moment seems to be enchanted, Cupid seems to have shot a misguided arrow your way, as if by its own accord, your face turns, his lips inches away from yours, his eyes, bright and devious looking at you, engraving your expression, the pull of fate forcing the air to dissipate, the space to close and destiny to unite. But time isn’t kind to those who mess with it, and as fast as the spell felt upon you both, it dissipates, the hardness of reality falling at his feet.

Suddenly he steps away, leaving a breath stuck in your lungs. He clears his throat, his eyes averting yours as a quick “thank you” leaves your mouth, naked feet scrambling to the floor, glass in hand and with the other you grab the forgotten bottle you had previously found. The air is tense around you both; your eyes follow his arm as he grabs a drink for himself, the way his bicep flexes as he opens the top of the decanter, and momentarily his hand stops moving, your eyes move back to his face, he is looking straight at you.

Warmth attacks your cheeks at being caught looking, you look away, and he only raises an eyebrow your way, silently studying you, the feeling of the almost kiss still lingering in the air.

“I… I will go now, thank you for the glass Eobard.” He isn’t quite sure if his name falling off your lips was kindness or cruelty, and he only nods, following your movements. But in reality what he wants to do is to go after you, turn you around, push your body against the wall with his chest, he wants to bury your form in his, deposit butterfly kisses along your jaw, run his nose up your neck, his lips following close behind and his hand burying in your hair, pulling taunt, holding you to him, while he moves down, his nose grazing yours and his lips brushing your own before they connect, consuming him.

He is thankful for the counter he is standing behind, shielding what you do to him, shielding the desire he feels. The torturous pain of what he will never have makes his hand run to the back of his neck, gripping at his own hair before running his hand over the front of it, sighting and closing his eyes. Moments like this remind him that he is still a man, a man who has been alone for longer that he cares to admit; he knows he has had chances, but he had never cared, he is always busy, always running against time, or rather making sure time stays in track.

Eobard tries to stay out of the house for as long as he can, his patience is not the best today, he is in a bad mood. Walking through the door his eyes land on you, once again you seem to be the first thing he sees upon entering the only place that brings him some resemblance of peace. The tip of his tongue wets his lips, holding back the scoff he wants to release. Your back is facing him, forcing him to clear his throat to grab your attention.

“What are you doing?” His voice is rougher than what he had intended, the words sharp in his mouth. He observes you, your body turning around to face him, he curses any gods out there who decided to bring you to him, they are only flaunting the perfection of their creation to simple mortals.

“I…thought” you begin, the words trembling in your lips, dancing a firestorm neither of you are prepare to face, clearing your throat you try again.

“I thought … I thought maybe you would like to eat dinner with me.” You begin, noticing the way his eyes train on your form, making you feel as if you have irritated him, the feeling of daunting on dangerous territory becoming apparent. He rubs his fingers over his mouth, his eye brows raising in disbelief.

“No thank you.” His mouth sharply snaps at you.

His eyes lock on yours, the room feels colder, is growing darker. Suddenly it feels as if you are walking on the edge of a knife, ready to fall in the middle or fall off the edge.

“I just thought maybe we could talk, and you could tell me something about yourself.” You tell him, sweat accumulating in the palms of your hands.

“I don’t want to eat with you, and I don’t want you to know me.” He tries to leave, maybe ignoring you will get him the job done.

“Please, I just want to understand you.” Your tone borderlines on pleading, making him turn around.

“I don’t want your understanding y/n” he takes a step towards you, his body moving closer to yours.

“I don’t want your kindness, I don’t want your presence in my life and I for sure as hell don’t want you. If there has been a punishment in my life as greater as being stuck in this insufferable time it had to have been meeting you.” The words curse through his mouth, cutting sharper than a knife, anger boiling inside of him.

“Why do you hate me so much?” Your voice is soft, small, the way your eyes look at him are tearing him apart on the inside. He hasn’t meant that, but it was the first thing his mind had thought of.

Just as he is about to reply he feels the vibrations of his phone in his back pocket, the caller is a number he doesn’t recognize. He moves away from you, his eyes watching you intently, silently daring you to move. He answers the call, his telltale greeting being reciprocated by silence.

“We both know what you did.” The known voice behind the speaker replies, his eyebrows furrow, his mind connecting the dots just in time to look into the skylight, the skylight that is right above you. He sees the glass shattering, your unmoving form looking up as the pieces begin to decent upon you, and before he can think he is speeding in your direction, the words he had said before long forgotten at the threat of danger falling upon you.

His arms wrap around you, one of his hands tangling in the back of your head, near the base of your skull as the other wraps around your leg, feeling the soft skin give in under his touch. He pulls you to him, burying you in him; once he stops he can hear the gasp escaping your mouth, your hands moving to his chest trying to push him enough to allow you to see further away than his shoulder, but he refuses to move, to loosen his grip. The second wave hits, the glass behind you both shattering, and as much as he wishes he could just speed away, the first reaction he manages is throwing himself to the floor, holding you to him, shielding your fall with his arms and shielding your body with his own, his arms cradling your head, pushing your face to the crook of his neck, one of his hands sliding past your shoulders to the middle of your back.

Once he feels the danger has passed he gets up, long arms pulling you up with him, his hands moving to your arms, pushing you back and making you look at him.

“Are you hurt?” The concern behind his eyes seems so real, so genuine it takes you by surprise, only managing a nod in his direction you move your hands to rest on top of the ones he has on your arms.

Relief fills him, sighing he moves his arms, wrapping them over your shoulders, pulling you to him, your face on his chest and his chin on your hair. He doesn’t care if his actions don’t make sense, or if he can’t understand them, the only thing he cares right now is that even if he wants to keep telling himself he hates you, he knows the truth. He knows he is scared, he knows this is the first time his heart has speeded up when someone else has been in danger, he knows he won’t recover, he knows is okay, even if he is holding onto something that won’t last, holding onto you, holding the last piece of something that feels real, even if he knows he is bound to lose it.

@tacowells101

@mintchipcupcake

@steamjunk90

@twilightlover2007

@austarus

@harrisonwellsisdaddy

@wintersire

@reallystressedhoneybee

@fanfiction-and-fantasies

@saltykidcreation

@dumpeetintofyre

@yetanotherwells

@tammy-baker

@thecupcakevigilante

63 notes · View notes

wildingrose · 4 years ago

Text

the introduction

dark alley help part 4

part 3: his doll | part 5: diamond in the rough

word count: 1.8k

》 shower, overstimulation

- ✿ -

Your phone? Dead. And you couldn't care less to charge it. But you still did with Taeyong's charger laying around. Once rebooted, the screen lit up and were attacked by missed calls and screaming texts, all by your mother.

You huffed, knowing exactly what the reason would be. It was the first time that you were out all night without informing your family beforehand. It wasn't like you knew that was going to happen anyway. But more than you just being out all night, there was something else your mother was worried about.

Taeyong had went to take a shower first after placing a breakfast order for delivery while you waited on the bed. You chewed on your lip, thinking if it was better to just leave your mother hanging until you would show your face to her after leaving Taeyong's place.

Chucking your phone on the nightstand, you plopped down on the bed, arms sprawled and eyes closed. Your core was aching, not in need for more but from Taeyong's brutal attack just minutes prior. If you had to guess what he'd like to do all day, it would be him having to nonstop go in you and wouldn't stop until... no. He wouldn't even stop for anything.

Your ears focused on the distant sound of the shower running. After it turned off, you heard him shuffling into the room. The bed dipped as he crawled over you, and your eyes opened to see his eyes staring into you, dark wet strands falling over his head as he hovered over you, his body bare of anything except for a towel snugly wrapped around his hips. You cupped his face in your hands, caressing his smooth cheeks with your thumbs. "You're so much fun," you whispered.

Taeyong's eyes widened by a fraction, not expecting to hear that come out of anyone's mouth. "I am?"

You nodded and added, "On a whole nother level... unlike him."

Him? Taeyong thought but it didn't matter. You had already given your word to be his doll.

His hand reached for yours and to his satisfaction, there was no band on your ring finger. He brought your hand to his lips and placed a haste kiss on the back of it. "Go ahead. Take a shower before the food arrives."

In the bathroom, you observed the small surrounding, the shower was an old type that you had never used before. Taeyong walked in after with a spare towel and hung it on the rack. "Do you need anything else?" he asked.

Humming, you asked pointing to the shower, "How do I use this?"

"Mm, like this." He turned the knob around for temperature and then lifted a lever up to start the shower.

You played with your fingers anxiously, nervous about using the shower on your own. What if I messed up?

Taeyong noticed your fidgety form and hugged you from behind. His nose buried into your cheek when suggesting, "Do you want me to stay here, doll?" His hot breath dug into your skin and made you shiver.

"Yes please."

He watched you from the outside while you stepped into the tub. Your dress had to come off but you were feeling a little shy. It was easier to be naked in bed, occupied with sexual pleasures than having to stand bare with your mind on micro thoughts of insecurity. Taeyong merely stood, staring at your actions in silence and you slowly lifted your dress over your head, hearing a faint growl vibrate in the back of his throat as his eyes traveled up and down your beautiful form.

You repeated the same action of turning the shower on and felt the water too cold to your liking. Though Taeyong was enjoying your nipples hardening real quick. "Um can I get it a little hotter?" you asked timidly.

He licked his lips and leaned over, turning the knob. When the temperature was ideal, you took hold of the bar soap and lathered it along your arms. Taeyong was glad for once that he chose bar soaps over shower gels. Not only was it cheaper but also because from then on, he was going to enjoy running the bar over his skin that had explored over your body, especially when you lifted your breast to rub it under the skin there. He nearly creamed in his towel just from simply observing you clean yourself.

You grew nervous, debating whether you should use the bar to clean yourself down there. But one look over at Taeyong who had discarded his towel onto the floor and was stroking and rubbing his erect cock and pleasuring himself... you went for it.

Taeyong shuddered when he saw your pretty hand take the bar soap to your core and rubbed it there, making him groan hungrily as he eyed you with a predatory look. He could have picked up the pace along his length. He knew he was going to cum easily on his hand as long as his eyes were glued to your beauty. But he stopped as he didn't want to cum like that.

You dropped the soap when Taeyong barged in. His hand collected the falling water and roughly rubbed you clean of the foam. You whimpered from the quick movements, still aching from the overstimulation that Taeyong had given you recently. "P-please Tae... don't. It hurts," you whispered.

Dejected, he complied and had another idea. Once you were done with the shower, he wrapped you in the fresh towel and with his still laying on the tiles, he carried you bridal style to bed, placing you down carefully beside a neatly folded oversized shirt prepared for you.

Not so gently, Taeyong ripped the towel covering you, leaving you naked and pretty for him to pleasure himself on instead. Putting his weight on his forearms, he placed his crotch on your thigh and slowly dragged his cock along your skin, making you feel every inch of his hard erection. Your thigh burned with pleasure and a moan slipped itself out of your mouth. The sound fired him to roll his hips faster, all the hot rubbing exciting you greatly despite what your body was trying to tell you.

"Doll, I'm close. Let me cum inside you. Please," he pleaded. Taeyong needed to bury himself in you as he wasn't going to waste his seed when he had plans to knock you up.

You granted permission with your weak nod, thrilling him to shift in between your legs and rutted into you in one forceful move. You screamed from the pain, tears slipping from your shut eyes. He came inside you, not moving one bit so that he wouldn't have to hurt you more. To ease the discomfort, he distracted you by sucking on your nipple, his hot tongue circling around as you whimpered, your hand fisting in his wet hair.

Once he finished loading into you, he pulled out carefully. Taeyong stared with adoration in his sparkling eyes as they traveled down your entire body, your breast rising and falling when catching your breath. He picked up the folded shirt beside you and helped you sit up, putting the shirt over your head.

The two of you sat down at the table for the morning meal. It was quiet with the occasional sounds of spoon clinking against the plate. You placed a spoonful in your mouth and watched the man across. His eyes fixed to the dish, seeming lost in his thoughts. "Y/N?"

Your heart fluttered hearing your name fall from his lips for the first time. "Yeah?"

"Do you go to the library every night?"

Nodding, you explained why. "To getting away from reality. You know by reading books and diving into the fictional worlds. I just crave to feel something better than what my life gives me. Or more like my mom," you spoke the last part quietly.

Taeyong's brows creased. "Why your mom?"

Letting out a long sigh, you told him about your mother's constant nagging to look gorgeously feminine so that you could win the heart of the rich jerk to marry you off to. She refused you have a job as you would be living off your future-to-be's income and told you to simply worry about looking your best. Because of this, you never dared to dream of anything for an earning. "Good thing she at least let me finish high school," you deadpanned. "So that's why I go to the library at night."

Taeyong was silent for a moment, thinking through a particular set of words you spoke before diverting his mind. "Why night though? Don't you get scared all alone?"

You hummed. "Yeah I do. That's why I avoid taking shady routes."

His eyes narrowed on you with a playful glint. "But you took the alley."

You pursed your lips. "That's because I was hoping to find someone for... help...you know?"

Taeyong's lips curled up in amusement. "And how did you get yourself in that situation?"

You gulped. "I-I read some books. Erotic ones. I don't usually read them but I was feeling it and... well you know what happened," you chuckled sheepishly, embarrassed that you had gotten so turned on that you were desperate for help from a stranger.

He smirked, seeming proud of himself. "Good thing I was there to take care of you."

You smiled shyly and wondered about his life. "Taeyong?" you called for him softly.

"Hm?"

"What do you do?"

His spoon stilled by his lips and suddenly it was dead silent. You couldn't even tell if he was breathing or not. He slowly lowered his utensil and laid it down. "I..."

You waited patiently.

A sigh left his mouth before continuing, "...work as a construction worker."

You blinked. "Did you say construction worker? As in those people that build buildings?"

A hesitant nod. With the way you described your mother, he knew he was going to fall in the not acceptable category. His heart was pounding hard in his chest, worried that you would see him like that and never wish to see him again.

Your heartbeat sped up at the thought of Taeyong wearing his safety gear, sweaty and dirt covering his skin and clothes, his arms flexing muscles when carrying heavy items over his shoulder. And those very arms wrapped around you, or even better, those hardworking fingers plunging deep into you...

You nearly fell off your chair from swooning. "That sounds sexy."

He gaped at you incredulously. That was a response he had never heard in his life. "You think that's sexy?"

"Of course! You must be strong. Imagine having to brag to someone that they're standing inside a building that you built. That's so hot!" you gushed with bright eyes.

Taeyong chuckled and a warm smile formed on his face when seeing your animated self. He was pleased that you didn't see him like the way other people would when he'd mention his occupation.

What you thought about him was all that mattered.

tag list: @cosmiclatte28 @mel-yjh @johnnysuhisnotmyproblem

let me know if want to be added/removed for this series

#nct #nct 127 #nct smut #nct 127 smut #taeyong smut #lee taeyong #taeyong x reader #taeyong imagines #taeyong scenarios #nct imagines #nct scenarios

120 notes · View notes

lepusrufus · 3 years ago

Text

To bargain for immortality pt.5

Another few good weeks passed before they heard from their so-called goddess, gone who knows where. Not that anyone would ever question her absences, even the lords knew better than to stick their noses in her business.

When Nicole found herself once again following Emma through blue-lit underground corridors, there was an odd determination in her strides. She wanted to figure out what the hell was going on with her and Miranda, if nothing else, was a scientist who above all loved solving an equation. And what else could her situation be described as if not an intricate equation with a bit fat X as her missing factor.

She was right in thinking that Miranda would find her issue of interest, as when she finally brought it up the woman furrowed her brows and turned to face her, a clipboard grabbed from a nearby table.

“And there was nobody else?”

“No. Just me, Cassandra, the pharmacist and some guy that came for his medicine,” Nicole answered with a barely contained huff.

“What for?” Miranda tapped her pen against the paper in anticipation, a clear sign that she may be onto something and was only putting together some puzzle pieces that nobody but her could see.

Nicole had to dig through her memories for a moment. “An infection. At least that’s what the pharmacist mentioned.”

Miranda hummed and scribbled something else. There was no point in trying to decipher what exactly, the woman had the handwriting of two drunk doctors put together. How very fitting for her.

Without another word, she was on her feet, unbuttoned lab coat flowing after her the same way her black robes did when in goddess mode. “Follow me. I want to test something.”

And what else was she supposed to do really?

Quick steps took them down the hallways, black stone walls surrounding them and taking on an odd shine under the unnatural neon lights above. At least Nicole didn’t have to jog for once, Miranda not being that much taller than her.

The journey was short and they reached their destination quickly, which seemed to be a door not unlike the one belonging to the lab they had just vacated, except this one had the number 24 engraved on a small plaque on it. Miranda pushed it open to reveal a small hospital looking room, four beds divided by grey curtains but only one seemed to be occupied, a sleeping woman hooked to a heart monitor whose rhythmic beeping caused some memories to resurface in Nicole's mind.

Those memories however were quickly pushed down by a sudden burst of nausea at the decaying smell that seemed to forcefully crawl its way down her throat. Nicole all but slapped a hand to her face and turned around in a pathetic attempt to block out the overwhelming sensation. Some blood also started to trickle down her face and past trembling fingers, although thankfully not an ungodly amount like before.

By some mercy of well… herself, Miranda didn't stop her when she decided to do a wobbly turn and hastily exit the room. She followed Nicole out and observed as she slumped against a wall, pulling a tissue from a pocket to wipe at her face.

"What… the fuck," Nicole breathed out.

"Was that the same as before?" Miranda's eyes were full of a weird kind of glee that could only belong to a mad scientist. Not that that would be an inaccurate description for the woman.

Nicole only nodded, trying to get her face on a more presentable level before speaking again. "Is she-..."

Miranda scoffed. "Are you deaf? I can assure you the woman is quite alive," she responded with an eye roll.

The soft beeping monitoring the heartbeat could be heard faintly from behind the closed door, so her words had to hold some truth to them. Though her intentions were still shrouded in mystery.

"Then why the hell does she smell like that?"

"She doesn't," came the nonchalant reply and it had Nicole almost seething.

Is your ego stuffed up your nose, is what she wished she could snap and say, but she knew better.

If Miranda noticed the daggers in her eyes, she paid them no mind. Instead she noted something down on the paper precariously attached to the clipboard she got a hold of before exiting the lab they had been in previously. When she finished, she simply motioned for Nicole to follow and continued further down the hallway, without a second glance.

She only stopped once to exchange a few words with an unfamiliar assistant on the whereabouts of certain patients. Patiens. Why would Miranda keep any sort of patients down there?

Before she had time to dwell on it, Miranda pushed another door open, this time leading to another corridor dimly lit by strategically placed torches. Apparently nobody bothered to get electricity to this particular part of the underground maze of tunnels, the warm light so pleasant on the eyes as opposed to the harsh neons of the previous area. The tunnel was also long, way too long for it to be an often used path, especially given how awfully humid the air was becoming. Nicole tried to take a mental note of where they were heading, squinting her eyes in an effort to imagine what was above them, but with how convoluted the tunnels down there were, it was fruitless.

After maybe fifteen minutes of walking, awkward silence -at least awkward on her part, Miranda didn't seem to care- only broken by the echo of steps and the soft sounds of crackling fire from the torches, the tunnel ended in what looked to be a far too modern stairwell. Nicole had to pause for a second, looking at the unnerving contrast where dark ancient stone gave way suddenly to gray concrete and steel, going up in sharp angles and blocking the view to whatever laid above. The overall architecture did look vaguely familiar though, but Miranda didn't seem to have the patience for sightseeing as she quickly started walking up the stairs.

At the top of the staircase stood a steel door that was quickly unlocked to finally reveal a place that Nicole recognized. She blinked rapidly in surprise, all but freezing in the doorway at the sight of the hospital corridor she had walked down on so many times before, complete with a handful of nurses discussing in a corner. She shook her head and slowly followed the woman, not wanting to remain behind. It didn't take long before they came across the one person Miranda was apparently searching for.

"M- Mother Miranda," Salvatore's voice came in an oddly high pitch, at least for him, when he almost crashed with her in his hurry to get somewhere.

"Moreau," Miranda greeted with a nod and unreadable expression. "I need the documents on each of your patients and where they're staying." Straight to business apparently.

He simply nodded and moved his attention to one of the nurses standing nearby, instructing him to finish whatever task he was supposed to before their arrival. The man moved rigidly, painfully aware of Miranda's presence. Then, Moreau led them to his office, starting to pull out a consistent number of files from a large bookcase.

His office was, unsurprisingly, a mess aside from the one place he held the documents keeping track of all his current patients, complete with a few books and office supplies haphazardly placed on the desk. A few spare white coats were hanging just by the door, together with a long and worn leather jacket that he often times wore when outside the building. A familiar string of bones was also peeking from one of its pockets, nowadays worn as a necklace since, after the effects of his mutation were lessened, he found the crown quite unsightly.

"Are you coming by anytime soon," his voice came from behind, snapping her out of her exploration. "We could use a hand sometimes."

Nicole turned to give him a polite smile. "I may, but I have some things to get out of the way for now."

A glance in Miranda's direction revealed the woman hunched over the documents on the desk, writing down a list with the aid of whatever she was reading. They could do some small talk for the time being.

"How have you been," Nicole asked, turning to him again.

She and Salvatore were on quite friendly terms ever since she started occasionally helping out in the hospital that he was in charge of. Not that they had much time to ever hang out, but the few times they did, it's always been a pleasant interaction among colleagues.

"Some days are better than others," he responded with half a shrug.

Judging by the deep purplish circles under his eyes, today wasn't particularly stellar. He was slightly hunched, whether it was out of habit from a time when sitting straight was quite impossible or from tiredness, she couldn't tell.

"Any news from the castle?" He asked with a chuckle. He was rarely welcomed in Alcina's home so the curiosity wasn't unwarranted.

Nicole shrugged. "Same old same old. Bleeding out prisoners, stopping Daniela from breaking vases and all that boring pseudo nobility stuff."

He let out a quiet laugh. "Nobility? Should I start calling you my lady?"

Nicole snorthed, giving his shoulder a small shove that didn't make him move in the slightest.

Their joking banter was interrupted by Miranda all but shoving her way in between them and out the door, calling for her to follow. With a small wave, Nicole was quickly after her, falling in step just slightly behind the other woman. Though it was a small building after all, so it didn't take long to reach the first door on Miranda's list.

"I want you to tell me exactly what you feel," she flatly told Nicole while pushing the door open.

She frowned, eyes slightly narrowed in confusion and glued to Miranda's back as she stepped inside the small room after the woman.

Any incredulous question died on her tongue when she seemed to be yanked back in time, to the yearly family trips her father insisted they all go on. It was to a relative, or family friend, Nicole couldn't quite recall, who owned an old cabin near a lake. Problem was, the lake was always murky and full of algae, the water gaining an unpleasant scent under the August sun. She and Alex never tried swimming.

"Well?" Mirada raised an eyebrow, impatient.

Nicole scrunched up her nose, both wanting and desperately trying not to take a deeper breath. "Pond water? The kind of water that's stagnant and muddy in summer, full of dead fish and weeds."

She tried not to fidget, her mind running a thousand miles an hour. The so-called goddess seeming completely uninterested in shedding light on what the hell they were doing was not of much help either. A frustrated sigh threatened to escape when another person spoke up.

"Doctor?" A meek voice came from the only bed in the room, from a young woman who seemed asleep when they had walked in. She looked between the two of them confused and with squinted eyes.

Miranda simply raised a hand, not even sparing the girl a glance. "Pay us no mind, we're only here to check on something. We'll be on our way in a moment."

Nicole couldn't help the confused look she threw the girl's way. Was she not recognizing the woman this whole town worshipped? An amused snort almost escaped her but she knew better. Besides, who could really blame her? Mirada was wearing an oversized lab coat, blonde hair held back in a ponytail and there was no trace of the makeup that usually accompanied her ceremonial robes and mask.

Not that Nicole had time to appreciate the odd humanity of Miranda's outfit, as the woman turned on her heels and exited the room as soon as she was done writing. She was starting to grow annoyed with the uncooperative and know-it-all attitude, but decided against voicing any opinions and settled for following along to the next door.

It kept on being a rinse and repeat of the first room, only variables being the patients inside and her answers. Sometimes the change wasn't too obvious, maybe just a more metallic undertone or a new faint smell latching onto her senses, like the sickly sweet aroma of honey. A handful of times though she had to all but slap a hand over her face to not be overwhelmed by the enveloping stench. One room in particular made her almost stumbled backwards and out the door, when a strong metallic smell contrasting the accompanying one of decomposition hit her like a slap in the face. The man inside, who was evidently not doing particularly well, didn't seem appreciative of the apparently crazy woman coming in and rudely interrupting his rest.

Nicole didn't look forward to lingering around by that point, but there was one more room to check.

They pushed open the door, and the familiar stinging scent of decay immediately overtook her senses, seeming to latch on to the very inside of her throat. A small rivulet of blood also started dripping down her face, and Nicole quickly pulled out a paper tissue from her pants pocket to press against her nostrils. It was both to stop the bleeding and to shield her senses from the smell.

Once outside, Nicole was trying to catch her breath while Miranda was simply writing something down. Another set of steps approached them, who turned out to be Moreau coming to check on their findings. Upon being given the clipboard to read -he could actually decipher her chicken scratch, really?- he let out a curious hum.

"I need to go over John Abbott's file and compare them," Miranda started, clicking her pen and putting it back into her pocket. "I'll send an assistant after it later." Then she looked her way and waved a hand dismissively. "You're free to go, I'll send Emma after you when you're needed."

Nicole blinked, dumbfounded, her voice coming out harsher than she probably should've allowed it to be. "That's all? What did you find?"

The exasperated edge in her voice did not go unnoticed nor was it appreciated. Miranda rolled her eyes slightly and gave her an answer. "You can distinguish illnesses by smell. We'll do a more comprehensive test and list, but for now we have enough to say that's how the Mold manifested with you," Miranda explained, half turned away and ready to leave.

And she did turn to leave as soon as she was finished. With a nod towards Salvatore, she made her way back down the hospital corridor and presumably towards the passageway that led back to her lab.

Nicole wasn't particularly keen on going down there again if she could help it, so she instead stuck by Salvatore's side as they walked back to his office.

That day wasn't the first time Nicole had entered that room, so the fact that it also served as some kind of archive did not go past her. The office itself was decently sized, and even had a storage room attached to it with the sole purpose of keeping old files that may be important but Miranda didn't need at hand. Although, in all honesty, Salvatore wasn't particularly skilled in keeping everything organized. That's what my secretary is for, he would say, ignoring the fact that Miranda would gut anyone who touched those documents if they weren't part of the small group of people she deemed worthy. Therefore, the files were a mess, the only saving grace being that he at least had the foresight of organizing them by decade.

With a sigh, he started looking through the binders all but stuffed on one of the many shelves. Nicole sat down at his desk, occupying herself with a crayon that she started twisting around her fingers absent mindedly. There was some semblance of relief in finally figuring out what had so cruelly changed in her body, and what an ironic twist of fate said change was. To have spent years pouring over books learning about the illnesses that now were recognizable by something as simple as an acidic smell of blood. On the other hand though, the knowledge that Miranda had a tendency to find some kind of use for all her experiments left a sensation of dread slowly making its way into the deepest crannies of her chest, where a certain parasite had burrowed and made a nest for itself.

"Mind if I call the castle, I don't really feel like walking all the way back," she asked, eyes settling on the phone pushed to the side by a couple books and scattered pens.

"Sure," he responded without moving from where he was pulling out papers, only to shove them back inside their folders when they weren't the correct ones.

Her hands hovered over the keys for a moment. She wasn't about to call Alcina's personal phone to ask for a ride, heavens no. The phone in Carolina's study, where the Constable would spend her time when not in the stables, would be the best choice if only she could remember the number from memory. Nicole decided that the one in the main hall was the best next thing, where one of the guards at the entrance would probably hear the ringing and answer.

She dialed the number and listened to the typical ringing sound once, twice, until she thought nobody was actually around, but at last, a voice came from the other end.

"Alo?"

Nicole took a moment to recognize the voice as Dalia's, the head chambermaid.

"Hey, it's Nicole," she started toying with the pencil again. "I'm at the hospital, can you send Carolina with a horse to pick me up?" She sensed the slight hesitation on the other woman's side and thought to clarify. "I'm not injured, just with Moreau."

She heard a slight exhale from the other end of the line and had to entertain the thought of whether the woman was relieved due to genuine concern for her wellbeing, or she was well aware of how irritable her wife could be. Her being injured definitely made its way on the list of things that would bring out the anger and cruelty carefully crafted over almost a century.

Before hanging up the phone, she sighed and thought better of her request. "Actually, tell Cassandra to come."

She could almost feel the slight grimace from Dalia at being asked to go talk to the most sadist of the sisters, and with a request no less. Oh well, there's to hoping that Cassandra wouldn't be too peeved at said request coming from her wife.

She hung up after hearing an of course, my lady.

With a way to get back home without having to do the trek on foot assured, she leaned back in the chair, watching Salvatore continue on his search. He was standing with his hands on his hips, eyebrows pulled into a frown that slightly wrinkled the already rough skin of his forehead. He looked almost as if he resorted to glaring at the piles of papers, hoping that enough intimidation would scare the right file into jumping into his hands.

It almost made Nicole snort, were it not for the curiosity that both acted as a distraction and pleaded to get some more answers. "So, who's this… Jack Abbott?"

"John Abbott," he corrected without tearing his eyes from the shelf in front of him. He grimaced then. "He was one of Mother Miranda's earlier experiments, and had a very similar mutation to yours."

At that Nicole's eyebrows shot up past the low line of her fringe, interest successfully piqued. She turned in her seat to fully face him, one arm thrown over the back of the chair. When he didn't continue talking, instead pulling out one of the last binders on the shelf labeled 1930's, she impatiently prodded for more information. "And?"

Moreau pulled a face, probably wondering if he was even supposed to talk about it. It didn't take long for him to let out a defeated sigh, the demand to play dumb were Miranda to ever ask about this going unspoken, but more than understood. "Same thing as you really. He could tell what illness someone had by a specific smell, down to the nasty nose bleeds whenever it got too much," he started, noticing a few drops of blood that had dried on her upper lip.

He turned back to pulling out the very last binder dedicated to that decade and relaxed his posture ever so slightly when he saw JOHN ABBOTT written in big letters and black ink on one file. Another frown tugged his cracked lips downward, the information written in such a clinical way only mudding the memory of the frail man he had briefly met so many decades ago. "His body took well to the Cadou until… well ,until it didn't. I don't know what went wrong, but his body just rejected it at one point and he died being slowly consumed by the infection."

At that Nicole's face fell, dread now overtaking her usual curiosity. He must've noticed, for his next words came the slightest bit rushed and with a strained kind of reassurance that wasn't convincing to either of them.

"It may very well not be connected."

Nicole almost scoffed, not at him but at the situation at hand. The hand holding the pencil was tense and, had she not been as weak as she was, the wood would've probably cracked by then. "Did you know him?"

With a slight shake of his head, he answered, not a negation but more a gesture of pity. "Barely. I was brought here only after he started," he narrowed his eyes at a wall somewhere behind Nicole trying to find the right word. He didn't. "...deteriorating."

That was about as much as her brain wanted to know at the moment, letting a heavy silence fill the space for endlessly too long. She was caught in her own thoughts that started to twist and turn into countless what ifs. Thoughts that crashed to a halt when a nurse knocked on the half open door to announce her presence.

"Lady Cassandra is waiting outside," she told Nicole, expression pulled in a poker face that could only belong to someone who had to deal with her wife and tried to seem unbothered. Tried and failed.

Nicole sprung to her feet, circling the desk and about to make her exit when he called out. "Take care of yourself," Moreau told her, looking up from the papers he was reading.

Her lips turned slightly upwards into a smile. "You too." And then she left, rapid pace taking her through off-white hallways and slight smells that she was now painfully aware of.

Stepping outside was a breath of fresh air in more ways than one, the orange hue of the setting sun welcoming her after the hours passed under the harsh lab lights. How ironic was her hatred for the damned neon lights, when not too long ago she would've gladly spent her life under their bluish glow.

Even better than the warm sun on her skin, was the sight of Cassandra, dressed in her usual riding attire and absent mindedly scratching the furry muzzle of one of the castle's Clydesdale horses. A big beast of a horse, black and white with its feathery legs that, Nicole realized with an eye roll, she wouldn't dream of getting on without help.

Her pace quickened until she found herself embraced by a pair of strong arms, the stable smell mixed with Cassandra's cologne filling her senses with something finally pleasant. She didn't let go until she felt a gentle kiss placed on top of her auburn hair.

"Darling," Cassandra greeted her once she pulled back, gloved hand coming to rest on a pale cheek. "How are you?"

Nicole sighed and pushed into the touch, the kind of tiredness that could only be felt after a day spent bending over backwards to every one of Miranda's whims settling into her bones. "Ready to go back home."

Cassandra simply nodded once and moved her hands on her hips, getting a good enough grip before picking Nicole up to where her foot could reach the stirrup so she could pull herself up. Her wife decided that climbing in the saddle was below her at the moment, choosing instead to turn into a swarm, only to retake her human form a mere second later, on the horse's back, her front comfortably against Nicole's back. With a few taps of her boot against the stirrup still occupied by Nicole's foot in a silent demand to let her guide the horse, she took a hold of the reins and they finally started moving down the stone paved road.

There was no complaint on Nicole's part, taking it as a good opportunity to sit back and enjoy the ride, pressed to her wife's chest.

A few eternally long minutes were spent absentmindedly scratching the horse's muscular neck, where short black fur met the mane held in a beautifully done french braid, that only their Constable could pull so seamlessly. A few long minutes spent mulling over what she had found out, thoughts twisting cruelly with every worst case scenario her mind could conjure. Had she made a mistake? Was the infection a mistake to begin with? How cruel could fate be sometimes. Back in New York she had come to terms with a meaningless life, the only truly important thing she had amounted to at that point being choosing a career path to spite her father. But now, after finding a place to call home where she ached to stay to the point of seeking eternity for it, the very thing that could allow her to remain there forever could also take her life away, miserably so.

"What's wrong?"

Cassandra's voice snapped her back to reality, so much so that she even shook her head a couple times to chase away the lingering thoughts. She gave an inquisitive hum in an attempt to play dumb. The attempt was met with an incredulous eye roll.

"You're quiet," she simply responded.

"I'd think spending decades with Daniela would make you appreciate quiet people," Nicole jokingly threw back.

"Not you," came the reply, one hand leaving the reins and coming to rest on her thigh. "I love hearing you talk, even when you're blabbering about proper medical technique."

At that Nicole let out a light gasp, turning around with mild offence written in her eyes. She couldn't find anything to retaliate with for once, setting instead for giving her wife a slight shove with her elbow, that only elicited a laugh.

She shook her head and let out a sigh. "We did figure out what's with the damned nosebleeds." At a curious hum and Cassandra's chin coming to rest on top of her head, she went on. "Apparently I can distinguish illnesses by smell. Now that would've been useful during med school," she finished with a bitter laugh.

Her wife responded with a snort. "If I were Daniela, I'd say you're joking to hide how you really feel." She shrugged. "However I'm not her, and I'm assuming you'll simply tell me without the need of an impromptu psychoanalysis," she said almost smugly, the hand that was until then lazily placed on her leg finding its place around her waist.

The times when Nicole wished to curse her wife's apparently impeccable observation skills were rare, but this was one such occasion.

She almost let out a groan, pushing further back into Cassandra's form. "There was this other man, John Abbott, with the same mutation. Except his body rejected the Cadou and he died slowly and painfully," she explained, her voice quieting halfway through, but almost flinched when the arm around her went stiff with an almost vice-like grip. The realization of how long Cassandra has really been in the Village for slowly crept its way from Nicole's memory, having been filed away and almost forgotten in a metaphorical drawer of obvious things that however were rarely brought up. "Did you know him-"

"You won't end up like that sorry bastard."

The conviction behind that one simple sentence almost had Nicole letting out another short bitter laugh. Not out of bemusement of course. Irony perhaps, at how determined her wife was to double down on cheating death, not only for herself but her too. Even when death could be brought by the very thing keeping them alive.

"Not much we could do about that," she said in a small voice, one hand toying with the black fabric of Cassandra's sleeve.

"Don't think for one moment that I'm joking," she started, an edge of a warning behind her tone. Her hand came to rest more gently on the bottom of Nicole's sternum, where the skin had healed in a dark scar that seemed to send jagged cracks all the way to her stomach. "I'll pull the wretched little thing out of your chest myself if I have to."

At that Nicole actually let out a laugh. "Way to go with something morbidly romantic."

Cassandra chuckled close to her ear, bending down slightly to leave a peck where her neck and shoulder met. "You're not going to die. I won't allow it."

A silent possessiveness accompanied her words. An implication that she now belonged there, in her arms, and frivolous things such as death had no place to come between them. She should flinch at such implications, were it not for the fact that it was mutual and Cassandra knew better than to recklessly throw herself on death's path, knowing well that soon her wife would follow in her steps.

The soft kiss was returned when Nicole bent back again, until the angle between their bodies allowed for their lips to meet tenderly, in a way that anyone would believe was so utterly uncharacteristic to the both of them, ruthless in their own ways but soft like velvet running on smooth skin with each other.

They rode in comfortable silence up until the gates to the stable, where they dismounted and handed the reins to one of the servants waiting there. The sun had set by then, purple and dark blues reigning the skies as they entered the castle through one of the secondary doors.

She parted ways with her wife, saying that she would soon join the rest of their family as she headed up the stairs. A change of clothes was due. That and a request to their seamstress.

Oh her way back down, she stopped by the open door to the woman’s studio, busy with readjusting some garments for one of the ladies. A curt knock on the wooden frame of the entrance got her attention and had her pulling a face upon realizing that she had probably lost count of whatever she was mentally keeping track of. Nonetheless, she offered a polite smile when greeting Nicole.

“My lady, what can I do for you?”

“I need a facemask,” Nicole started.

The woman’s eyebrows pulled in a confused frown. “I thought a new batch of surgical masks just arrived the other day.”

Nicole raised a hand when she went to check on the shipments list. “I meant something I can wear for longer and outside the lab, surgical masks have a tendency to clash with an elegant gown, you know,” she explained with a chuckle. “Preferably that can filter out any smells?”

“Oh. Of course, I’ll just need to take your measures to make sure it’s fitted for you.”

“I’ll come by tomorrow,” she proposed and, after the seamstress gave her an hour, she continued on her way down the hallway to where the rest of the Dimitrescus were gathered.

Being home brought some peace of mind, thoughts of dying and being forcefully ripped away from her life momentarily placated in favor of enjoying a few hours by the fireplace with her family. Leaning against Cassandra as she draped an arm around her shoulders and listening to Daniela and Bela have a hilariously heated debate over the latest book they've read felt downright blissful in its mundane aspect.

Although no matter what, the little parasite that now called the inside of her chest its home, was quietly gnawing at her worried mind.

#unhinged maiden™ my beloved #cassandra dimitrescu x maiden #mother miranda #salvatore moreau #to bargain for immortality #fanfic #big reveal is big

61 notes · View notes

duskwood-legacies · 4 years ago

Text

"Summer Sunsets"

•Fandom: Duskwood

•Pairing/Character: Jake x fem!MC

•Word Count: 1,5k

•Genre: Romance, Fluff

•Summary: Jake and MC share a gentle moment underneath the setting sun neither of them wanted to end.

Before I start with the one shot, I wanted to thank all of you for the massive support on my last story, it was heart-warming!🥺💕 I hope you enjoy this story as much as the last one🌿💕

As the sun dipped down behind the horizon, the sky appeared in the most beautiful shades of orange and purple. Wind was slowly howling through the trees, slowly caressing the grass with its gentle melody.

Carefully, MC guided Jake through the fields. Her hands covered his eyes from behind, both their hearts beating a tad bit faster than usual.

“Where are you taking me?” Uncertainty lined Jake’s voice.

“We’re almost there” He could hear the smile on MC’s lips. It loosened his tightened nerve endings, at least by a little. It was dangerous out in the open, especially when the afternoon hours faded into the slow evening. His pursuers were still out there.

Of course MC noticed his discomfort. She knew danger was lurking everywhere around them, but that shouldn’t stop her from doing what she wished to do for so long. Tenderly, she rubbed her thumbs along Jake’s temples, hoping to get his anxiety to simmer down.

Her small act of compassion caused fireworks to explode in his chest.

They halted.

“Tada!” MC beamed as she removed her hands from Jake’s eyes.

A blanket, thoughtfully spread out on the ground, with a bottle of champagne and two suiting glasses lied ahead. A long chain of fairy lights was placed around, illuminating the scenery with a soft and cozy glow which made the setting sun appear like a joke.

“MC…” No words matched what Jake was feeling. Emotions overwhelmed his body. Not ever has he experienced something like that in those days he could remember.

MC walked over to the blanket. Her dress was weightlessly flowing in the wind and her slightly messed up hair only made her frame so much more breathtaking to him. She sat down and met Jake’s unbelieving gaze with a smile. Regarding all their conversations, all their late-night talks and all things told in-between their moments, she expected this kind of reaction.

She patted the free spot on the blanket. Jake couldn’t bring his body to move. He was lost in feelings and sensations, the bitter thoughts of his pursuers washing down into temporary oblivion.

“Jake?” MC’s humble voice brought his attention to her. Her love-lined smile, her oh so sweet eyes filled with kindness and patience. Nothing ever felt so real, yet so much like a cursed hallucination. He glanced down to her hand, still resting on the empty spot.

Slowly but surely Jake’s body stopped betraying him. One step after another, he approached the setting. MC’s eyes were set on him, cautiously observing every move and every bit of expression with curiosity until he finally sat down.

MC could feel how her lips carved into an even larger smile.

“You’re blushing”

“How could I not?” Jake responded with a display of shyness “MC, how long did this take you?”

“Not too long” She comforted him, “I feared you wouldn’t enjoy yourself as much when you knew, or at least had the feeling, this took me longer than 5 minutes”

There it was again. The cheeky tone that made his heart skip, the sound of her voice which made breathing impossible. Even if her words were accompanied by seriousness, her features still held the gentlest expression he had ever seen.

“Hey…”

“Apologies.” Jake quickly replied, “I don’t mean to disrespect you with my silence. This is a lot to take in.”

And… and he felt validated. MC took his feelings into consideration and treated them, treated him, with respect and understanding. It was more than he’ll ever be capable of returning to her.

“I understand” MC nodded. Her eyes lingered on Jake for far more than a few seconds. He sheepishly refused to look at her. She’s never been able to shake this damned, ever-so-tiny piece of worry off. No matter how many times she reassured herself, a small part of her was afraid she was going too far with this.

With all the courage she could gather, MC’s hand reached out and covered Jake’s. Jake flinched at the sudden action, but did nothing to rid of her hand. No, instead he prayed for time to stop, freeze everything but the warmth of her loving touch.

Loving… was her touch even meant to show affectionate feelings? How high was the possibility MC was only being friendly and not displaying romantic attraction?

After all, they still were nothing more than friends.

“Jake,” Her voice cut through his thoughts once again “please talk to me. There is a lot going on in your mind, I can see it. I’m worried about you. Do you want to go home? Am I going too far?”

“No!” Jake blurted out “I want to do anything but that. I enjoy my time with you. It’s bugging me that I will never be able to pay you back.”

“You don’t have t-“

“No MC. I mean everything. You could live a life full of joy, a safe life. By having you here, by my side, I have taken so many of your opportunities. I have stolen the potential of the person you could have become. I pulled you down from the heights you could have climbed, drowned you in the ocean you could have made run dry. I am sorry, MC. So incredibly sorry.” Every word poured out of him like a tide. With every word spoken, his chest ached a little more, with every word spoken guilt came creeping back into his eyes.

MC was silent. Her heart ached as much as his. Seeing the hurt on his face, hearing the distress in his voice pained her so much more than she ever thought was possible. Her hand tightened around Jake’s, afraid he’d slip from her grasp, disappear right in front of her the moment she’d let go.

“From the day I met you, you interested me. I wanted to be the person who protected you. I wanted to be the one who kept you safe and calm. And now here you are. Running from the same people as I am, facing danger every second of your life.”

The meaning of Jake’s words weighted in on MC. She always suspected Jake may beat himself up for a decision she has made, but hearing it from his mouth hurt so much more.

She brought Jake’s hand up to her face and placed a gentle kiss on its back, closing her eyes while doing so. Blood rushed into Jake’s cheeks as well as hers. Their skin burned with the heat of a thousand suns, hearts beating rapidly and air becoming thin inside their lungs.

MC opened her eyes and gave Jake the most heart-felt smile he had ever witnessed. Her free hand found its way to cup his warm cheek, thumb gently brushing over his skin. He could feel the light shiver in her hand.

There was a tension neither of them could explain, but both so dearly wanted to follow.

“It’s okay you’re not who you thought you’d be.” MC whispered with sympathy resting every part of her voice “Sometimes things don’t work out the way we want, and that’s okay. Besides, you’re still keeping me safe, no? You’re still sheltering me from harm and making me laugh every day, don’t you?”

"You laugh a lot." Jake admitted, or more likely realized, as he attempted to fathom what she told him. She resembled so much calmness, did the fact that he endangered her not bother MC at all? Or, even more so, how could she not blame him for the danger’s she’s facing? How can a person be so gentle and understanding with him?

For a moment, silence embraced the two of them. Nothing but the soft flow of the river and echoes of each other's voices in their head surrounded them.

Their eyes were still locked onto each other, no one daring to break the trance they both sent themselves into.

The tension got stronger.

MC gulped. She lightly pulled Jake's face closer, hoping he would know what she tried to initiate. He did. He wanted nothing more than this.

Both were hesitant. They knew what this meant for their future, what complications everything would bring.

No, right this second those thoughts carried no value.

It was their time to cave in, their time to finally release what's been held back for so long. And so they did. Jake freed his hand from underneath MC's and pulled her closer. He couldn't take it anymore, neither could she.

Their lips met and veins filled with passionate fires as fierce as a raging inferno. Jake's free hand cupped MC's one still resting on his face, longing for her touch, longing for this moment to never end.

They broke apart. Both trembling softly from the adrenaline rush, both taking their time to take in the feelings engulfing their bodies with an unforgettable memory.

This moment was magical. All their wishes and desires became true. Reality has barely been so blissfully comforting, especially for Jake.

A quiet chuckle emitted from MC's mouth, grabbing Jake's attention and automatically making him join in. All dangers aside, nothing ever felt so right. So perfect.

MC was the first one to speak up again, grinning as she held up the bottle of champagne that had lied next to them, untouched.

"Champagne?"

Jake could only smile and respond with a nod.

Truth is, none of them needed the alcohol. They were wasted on their feelings for one another, wishing nothing more than for those emotions, for this summer sunset, for this serenity to last for eternity.

-----

I'm not too confident in the ending of this story, but I'm really proud of the beginning!💕🍀

#duskwood #duswood jake x mc #duskwood jake x player #duskwood fanfiction #everbyte #duskwood fandom #duskwood everbyte #duskwood mc #duskwood player #everbyte studios

146 notes · View notes

mosswillow · 4 years ago

Text

Synonyms - Dark!Loki x Reader.

Warnings: Dark! 18+ adult content. Smut, noncon/dubcon, stalking, kidnapping, vaginal fingering.

Summary - You’re average in every way, Loki doesn’t think so though.

A/N: This is the last part of the Synonyms series. All of them can be read alone or together. I think it’s a little better when read with the rest, especially since this is the ending but I honestly don’t care if you read just one or all or none, you do you.

This is not my best work but you know sometimes you just have to let stuff go. I’ll shrug it off and keep writing. This is a hobby that I do for fun, I try not to take it too seriously.

Word count: 1.4k

You’ve always been an unexceptional person, average in everything - intelligence, looks, athleticism, creativity. You’re not good or bad at anything, always doing what’s expected of you, nothing more or less. You graduated highschool and went to a state college for a four year degree, graduating middle of your class and landing an entry level office position in the city.

Now you spend your days at your boring 9-5, answering emails and going to meetings. Your co-workers are nice and your boss is tolerable. You should be happy but something inside you tells you there’s more out there, a life waiting for you outside of the monotony. You’ve spent your whole life on a straight line and want desperately to know what it feels like for it to twist, taking you somewhere unexpected.

It rains outside your window and you observe a little boy jump in puddles, the pure joy that melts off the child makes you smile. You’re not sure exactly why the boy puts this thought into your head but you make a spontaneous decision to go camping. You’ve always wanted to go camping and even though it’s something small, the impulsiveness of the decision makes you giddy. You need to get out of this office and into nature. You need to jump in puddles and hike trails, to sit in a quiet place and sketch a river. You need something different. You send an email informing your boss that you will be taking the week off starting Monday and gather your things.

You’re in a hurry to get home, wanting to pick a campsite right away so that you can leave first thing in the morning. The elevator opens and you don’t see him standing in the lobby.

But he sees you.

“I haven’t seen you here before.” he steps in front of you, blocking your exit.

“I’ve worked here almost a year,” you say.

He paces around you, examining you in a way that makes your entire body tingle. He steps behind you, measuring his body against yours and brushes his hand over your cheek gently.

“How fortunate we ran into each other.”

You shudder, taking several steps away, “I should get going.”

“I’ve been looking for a very specific set of characteristics,” He takes a long stride towards you, closing the distance until there’s hardly an inch between you.

You don’t care if you’re being rude, you step away from him and book it home, locking the door as soon as it closes behind you.

You wake up early, packing your car and heading upstate. You take your time setting up your campsite and relax for a moment enjoying the quiet.

You hear something from the woods and for a few minutes you only see shadows before he saunters out of the trees.

“Why did you run off so fast yesterday?”

Your jaw drops.

“What the fuck are you doing here?”

The man strolls toward you lazily.

“I came to take you.”

You reach for your phone and he’s beside you in a second, grabbing your wrist and forcing you to drop it. He pulls you close and smells the crook of your neck and you respond by elbowing him.

“You’re a feisty one,” he coughs.

You sprint through the forest until you can’t run any longer. You’re pretty sure you lost him, You didn’t hear him behind you as you ran and don’t hear him now.

“Boo”

He puts his hand over your mouth before you can get a scream out.

“We’ll have to work on all of this baby, it’s ok though I’ll have fun breaking you in.”

You kick and squirm but he holds you tight, dragging you back to your tent with ease. He pushes you inside and gets on top of you, holding your hands over your head.

“Who are you?” you whisper.

“How rude of me, I never introduced myself.”

He leans down and kisses your nose and cheek before claiming your mouth, pushing his tongue in with a moan. Electricity moves through his body, leaving his extremities and dispersing into you. Your mind screams no but your body betrays you. Heat radiates from your pussy and you push your thighs together trying to tame the arousal. You relax into him and he lets go of your hands, feeling down your body. He rips your shirt open and kisses down to your breasts.

“Yes, you’ll do nicely,” he purrs.

You squirm as his mouth makes its way to your pussy. He slides a finger in you as he licks and sucks. You reach down and gather his hair into your hands, pushing him closer and grinding against his mouth, coming harder than you’ve ever come. the world fades away and you’re suspended in pure ecstasy. The straight line you’ve followed your whole life has twisted into something wonderful. You open your eyes and look down at the smirking man between your thighs.

The thing about twisting lines is that they never stay going the same trajectory, they curve back again suddenly forcing you to hold on while life crashes into another lane. You’re brought back to reality when he flips you over and enters you roughly. You cry out in pain but he doesn’t slow down. He slaps your ass and pushes on your back until your chest falls down.

“I’m Loki.” He says as he comes in you.

He gets off of you and you scramble up, covering yourself in a blanket and looking at him with wide eyes. He crouches in front of you, running a finger down your cheek.

“We’re going to have so much fun.”

You blink back tears.

“I don’t understand, why me? I’m so... average.”

Loki cocks his head to the side. You try to look away and he grabs your face and squeezes until you look at him.

“There’s no such thing darling, you’re perfect in every way.”

He reaches between your legs, cupping your pussy.

You think about running but the way he looks at you tells you that he knows exactly what you’re thinking. He silently communicates to you that running away from him again will only lead to pain.

“Sleep now.” He says.

“I’m no...” you black out.

When you wake up you’re in a car, hands bound together with Loki in the driver's seat. He takes you to Stark tower and leads you through a private entrance and up to the avengers private living quarters.

“Loki, what did you do?” Tony says.

“I found one that I liked so I took her.”

Loki pushes you onto the couch and you look around at the Avengers, all of whom sit with beautiful women. They give you sad looks and you hold back tears as you realize that nobody will help you.

“Fuck!” Tony says

“I thought we were kidnapping women?”

“You weren’t supposed to just snatch one. Now there’s a whole mess to clean up.”

“Thor just took his.” Loki says

“He has a point.” Sam says.

“Thor had that whole betrothal thing.” Tony holds the bridge of his nose.

“Touche.” Loki shrugs.

You make eye contact with a woman who stands at the entrance to the room, obviously shocked. She’s not part of this, you realize, she’s here by mistake. You mouth “run” and she takes off. Loki sits next to you and kisses your neck.

“It seems we’ve been noticed, a maid I think.” Loki yawns.

“I’ll have to send someone to take her out. It’s sad, I really liked her,” Tony sighs.

The room is silent for a moment while the weight of Tony's words flow through everyone.

“I’ll take her, I want to keep her,” Bucky announces.

“Really Buck?” Steve raises his eyebrows.

“He’s always had a thing for her, he’s just too shy to act on it.” Natasha says

“Okay, go now Bucky. I guess we have two disappearances to cover now. I'll be in my office if anyone needs me.”

Tony stands up to leave and you push gently against Loki’s suffocating embrace.

You’ve always been a fan of the Avengers, so grateful to them for everything they’ve done for humanity. You want to throw up now. You look around at the room full of beautiful women, all so different from each other and realize that Loki was right, there’s no such thing as average. All your life you’ve felt the same as every other person, unremarkable and boring. As you look around at the absolutely gorgeous women you recognize that they’re you and you’re them. You didn’t do anything to get here and neither did they but here you sit. You’re not average because everyone is, and if everyone is average then no one is.

You’re different from each other in a complex and mysterious way but also mirror each other like twins.

Synonyms.

#dark!loki #dark!loki x reader #dark!Avengers #dark!mcu

351 notes · View notes

petri808 · 3 years ago

Text

Nalu Yakuza Au *cover art by @jmoart214 💜

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 |

This chapter came out a little longer than usual. lemony teasing

Natsu’s secretary called her boss from the front office. “Mr. Dragneel, Mr. Avatar is here.”

“Thank you, Ms. Kinana. Send him in.”

Because no one in the organization was a computer whiz, he contracted with an independent IT person who was recommended by Yura. The guy, Jerome Avatar wasn’t skittish, didn’t care who he worked for as long as it paid well, and generally had a pleasant demeanor. As the accountant, Yura was in contact with Jerome the most, but for any major issues or changes, those had to be cleared with Natsu first. It was mostly quick, in and out of the office dealings.

Jerome shook Natsu’s hand over the desk before taking a seat.

“So,” Natsu questioned, “what brings you here today? Is there something I need to approve?”

“No, nothing new. I asked for this meeting because I came across some intelligence you might be interested in.”

“Oh?”

“I learned that your rival Heartfilia had been in contact with a new cyber security client, Mikage Kaishā who’s into a lot of shady dealings with government contacts.”

Natsu shrugged his shoulders. “Sounds like just a typical client for her, probably has her launder money for them. I don’t really pay attention to her clients because we deal with different things. But I do appreciate you telling me.”

“Should I keep an eye on them?”

“That’s fine if you believe it’s worth it. And if you learn about anything that could hurt us let me know immediately. By the way, how did you find out this information?”

“A friend in the field told me about it, then I hacked into Heartfilia’s computers to authenticate the information.”

Natsu sat forward in his chair. “You hacked into her computer? I’m surprised her employee didn’t catch that, cause I know she’s good at this stuff too.”

The man grinned. “Well, not as good as me.” He pointed to Natsu’s laptop. “If you’d like, I can set it up so you can access her system from your computer too.”

“Oh, I don’t want to tamper with her company—”

Jerome waved a hand nonchalantly to stop him. “I wouldn’t advise it either, if you touch things, that’s what’ll get attention, but you can watch what’s going on. Keep an eye on her calendar, meeting dates, whatever you want.”

Natsu sat back, rubbing his chin. The offer was a very tempting one indeed. A chance to stalk his ex through cyberspace… someone must have mentioned to this Jerome guy their history. It wasn’t exactly hidden, but not something talked about either amongst lower ranking employees. This wasn’t the first time Jerome had brought them intelligence info, so maybe he was looking to increase his usefulness, climb the ladder so to speak? Being connected to a powerful Yakuza house was certainly handy, and what better way than to tap into such a personal subject.

“That could be interesting,” Natsu finally responded. “Alright, what do you have to do to set it up? And make sure it’s nothing I could screw up accidentally cause I really don’t want her to find out.”

Jerome looked at his watch as if calculating his options. “I could do it now. Might take me about an hour if you can go without the laptop for that amount of time.”

“You have to take it back to your office or something?”

“No,” the man shook his head. “I can do it right here, so I can explain along the way.”

“Perfect.” Natsu then called his secretary and requested she double his lunch order due to an extended meeting.

While the computer tech fiddled, Natsu just sat back with his meal, watching him work. Math wasn’t his strong suit— nor academics for that matter. Growing up, his father had always told him he would be next in line as boss, so he only learned what he needed to for that world. One needed strength, cunning, street smarts, not book smarts. Though he had to admit the things these hackers could do was scary when you thought about it. Lucy was lucky in that her best friend was just a wiz at language— including computer languages. It all looked like gibberish, but the woman interpreted it almost like a savant. According to Jerome, from what he’d seen so far, Levy was not yet at his skill level, but that could easily change with time and experience like he’d been through.

“Natsu you—” Gray paused his knock on the doorframe. “Sorry, I thought the meeting would be done by now.”

“It’s fine, Jerome is hacking Lucy’s system for me right now.” Natsu responded with a grin. “Now I’ll see what she’s up to in real time.”

Gray groaned and ran a hand down his face in disgust. “I’m not even gonna respond to that. But I will tell you I told you so when it blows up in your face later.”

“Tch. She won’t know, right Jerome?”

“She shouldn’t unless you touch something.” The man answered while continuing to type.

“See. It’ll be fine.”

“You’re an idiot. Anyway,” Gray waved a hand nonchalantly as he left, “call me when your free to go over the new orders.”

“It will be fine, right?” Natsu asked Jerome a second time with a bit of anxiety in his tone.

Jerome stopped typing. “As long as you just observe they shouldn’t see you, just don’t get excited and touch something.”

“I don’t plan to; not like I’ll know how to do that anyways.”

“I’m almost finished, but do you want me to turn on her web camera so you can see through it?”

“But she won’t see me?”

“No, for you it’ll just be like watching a one-way video feed with image and audio.”

After a momentary pause, Natsu’s eyes narrowed with a mischievous grin. “Do it.”

Being able to see Lucy every day and feed his addiction was just too tempting, ‘I’m turning into a junky.’ But Gray’s words entered his mind. What if the man was right, could this bite him in the ass later? Probably… Though how bad could it really be? He really had no plans to interfere with Lucy’s business, just her personal life— and yes, he knew it sounded horrible. What right did he have to stalk his ex? None. ‘I just worry about her, is that so wrong?’ Lucy’s tough, but she’s just a woman and their world didn’t always treat women fairly. His desire to protect her bordered neuroticism, but could anyone blame him considering the underworld they worked in. ‘I’m just doing it to protect her,’ Natsu justified it to himself. Guys like Gray who haven’t fallen in love yet, ‘they just don’t understand.’ If anything were to happen to Lucy, he didn’t know what he would do. Probably move Heaven and earth and kill any in his way for what they’d done.

It took just over an hour before Jerome finished installing the spyware and making sure the systems were still secured. Just a one-way mirror that Levy shouldn’t catch unless really digging for it. Another 20 minutes were spent explaining to Natsu how to do the accessing part, including pulling up the webcam whenever he wanted to. “Or just leave it running,” Jerome noted. “It’ll just show up in this window,” he pointed towards the screen, “and as long as you don’t log out completely from your computer it’ll stay open.”

“Who turns off their computers?”

“Actually, it’s a good idea to turn them off now and then so any software updates can be completed, but since I manage your systems, there’s not really a need to.”

“Great.” The two men stood up and shook hands. “Thanks, Jerome.”

“It was my pleasure.”

When Natsu arrived each day at headquarters, the first thing and last thing he did was check to see if there was anything new or interesting going on Lucy’s side. It was like being hooked on one of their products, because the high it gave sucked him right in. But so far, he also stayed away from the video feed. Looking through her calendar or emails were cold and impersonal, but maybe the video was too close, too real, too much of a moral dilemma in crossing that line of a peeping Tom. That didn’t mean his addiction may one day require more feeding…

October had rolled around, and the air outside grew crisp and cold. It was a beautiful time of the year with the color changing leaves, reminding that winter was soon upon them. How quickly the time sure flew. The Dragneel Yakuza clan had already started preparing for their end of year Bonenkai to happen in mid-December. This plus the Shinnenkai in January were the two biggest parties the clan threw for all their members. The first is to forget the stresses of the past year, while the other was to welcome a successful new year. Natsu spared no expense on the food and drinks to take care of the loyalty and hard work their members contributed. From the emails, he knew that Lucy’s group had also started preparing for theirs. ‘Maybe I’ll crash her party,’ he mused to himself. ‘Oh, what’s this?’ His eyes fell on a new email of an appointment reminder for the next day. It was for Lucy’s monthly massage at an upscale spa. Natsu checked his own calendar and noticed he had nothing booked, no meetings, no shipments arriving— a perfect opportunity.

The next day, Natsu went to the spa early and spoke directly to the owner, paying them a nice chunk of change to allow him access and to play along. Lucy was scheduled for 2pm and arrived right on time. So, as he waited behind the scenes, the receptionist acted like normal and directed her inside. She had a regular masseuse, something Natsu knew he couldn’t fake upfront, so that person stood inside the room to greet her.

“Welcome, Ms. Heartfilia. I’ll step out while you get ready. Please lie on your stomach like normal.”

“Thank you, Kenji,” Lucy smiled. She’d been coming here for a couple years and was aware of the routine. The male masseuse had strong, but gentle hands and knew her body well by now.

Natsu had to admit he wasn’t happy to find out Lucy’s regular masseuse was a guy but held back from lashing out. He didn’t want to do anything to mess up this adventure— and oh, he planned to have his own revenge. It wouldn’t be as sexual as the soapland incident but knowing many of her trigger points meant he could do a bit of damage well enough. Now, Natsu had noted that Kenji’s voice was a bit deeper than his own, which would be difficult to fake, but the man explained he didn’t do much talking while working and played relaxing music during the session. Perfect. Natsu could just hit play and not talk at all.

“Ready, Ms. Heartfilia?” Kenji called out through the closed door.

The muffled yes was heard, and the man stepped away, leaving Natsu to his business. He entered the room and immediately turned on the pre-set music, a light instrumental with Asian undertones. It was quite pleasing to listen to. And there Lucy was under a silk sheet to cover her naked body, with her arms up and crossed, head perched on the relaxed hands, and hair up in a loose bun, revealing her beautiful neck. Natsu almost shuddered at the sight and knowledge he would get to touch her skin… it was the one thing she didn’t allow him to do at Soapland— touch. His grin grew as he rubbed his hands together to warm them before making the first move.

He moved the sheet to uncover Lucy’s lower half, up to the thighs, then applied a film of scented massage oils to his hands with a few drops over the taut muscles along her long legs, chasing the dripping liquid along her skin to smooth them over. His hands glide through several passes to the swell of her ass, then back down again all the way to the ankles, fingers applying pressure against the tendons and ligaments to gently work out any tension it encountered. Lucy sighed wispily as his hands massaged each foot, squeezing, smoothing, paying attention to each digit and every curve. His thumbs applied pressure at the arches, kneading the tight knots there from wearing heels all day long. He stayed focused on the area, her toes curling and flexing as the mewls leaching from her show their pleasure, until Natsu felt the knots give and relax away.

“Mmm, you’re getting good at that Kenji,” Lucy purred with a little huskiness in her tone.

Natsu grinned to himself as he lowered the sheet back down, so she stayed warm and moved onto her supple ass. Using both hands, he took his time to knead each cheek through the silken fabric, using his fingers to follow the gluteus muscles, starting near the leg, and following the swell of her curve upwards, slowly riding the fibers looking for any knots or tense areas. One cheek, then the other paying loving attention to and listening to the sounds Lucy made to clue him in on where to go. Every sigh a notch in his belt, each mewling purr a win. Natsu grew bolder, fanning out his thumb each time it got closer to her thighs to touch…

“Oh, Kenji,” Lucy whined, “you’re being a naughty boy today— keep it up.”

‘What?!’ Natsu’s hands paused and tensed for a split second before catching himself. Does Kenji mess with her too?! He shook his head and finished up in the area quickly trying not to let such thoughts stop him. ‘Just focus…’ Natsu grumbled in his head.

After applying more oil to his hands, he moved the sheet down to reveal Lucy’s back and for a second time, Natsu paused on what it contained. Her tattoo… It symbolized… he took a deep breath and dropped more oil on to the skin, willing away the memories breaching his mind. He didn’t want to think about it, not now. It was too painful.

“You okay, Kenji?” Lucy questioned as if noticing the slight pause or tremble in the man’s hands.

Natsu mumbled a soft Mmhmm and dived into the massage so Lucy wouldn’t grow more concerned, missing the uptick in the corners of her lips. He slowly smoothed along the skin using the base of his palms for pressure, each hand following the muscles, moving out from the waist, up the center of her back, and flaring out towards the sides just below the shoulder blades, repeating the same movement, each time increasing the speed while lessening the pressure. Next, he targeted the upper back and shoulder blades, an area he knew Lucy held a lot of tension from carrying the weight of her voluptuous bosoms. With precise ministrations, Natsu applied careful pressure with his thumbs and follows the curve of the blades up and around to the top of the shoulder. He then searched with the pads of his fingers for any knots along her trap muscles, moving up along the spine and fanning out to the top of her shoulders.

“Oh, yeah, right there,” Lucy mewled when he reached a specific spot.

The area around her spine, between the shoulder blades held the most tension and knots from constantly holding the upright, flexed posture that wearing heels will create. Her wispy sighs signaled the release of her tense muscles, bringing another wave of pride swelling in him. Natsu continued onto her neck, his strong hands kneaded the supple flesh, fingers palpating and soothing all the knots. Her neck too, held a few tense areas, especially around the base of the head, so he did his best to melt them away. He worked through Lucy’s mewls and moaning sighs, almost sexual in nature, aroused and a little heated in the face knowing his handiwork brought forth such sounds. Ugh, how he wanted to hear more of it! Lucy putty in his hands and spread between his thighs, calling out his name…

“You’ve gotten better at this… Natsu,” the cocky teasing tone, snapped him out of his dream.

“Natsu?” He tried failingly to disguise his voice. “I’m Kenji, Ms. Heartfilia.”

“Uh-huh. You think I can’t tell the difference Natsu?” Lucy quipped back with a chuckle. “Kenji’s routine is very different. Plus, I knew the moment I smelled your cologne.”

Busted.

“Tch. Well, if you knew it was me all along, why’d you let me do this?”

“Making you work is my payback.” She settled back down, relaxed on her arms. “Now, chop, chop, finish the job.”

This little minx! He was the one supposed to be torturing her this time, not the other way around! “Fine, kitten.” Natsu gritted out a smile and took hold of her neck again to placate and lull Lucy back into thinking he would go along. He massaged the sides with the tips of his fingers Both hands wrapped around, and his thumbs pushing up through her hair against the muscles on the back of her head.

“If only you’d taken care of me like this before,” Lucy mumbled.

Natsu paused and leaned over her ear. “Why not let me take care of you now?”

“You know the answer to that.”

“No, I don’t know the answer, that’s part of the problem!”

Lucy sighed. “Natsu, I don’t want to fight right now. I’m here to relax, not fight. If you’re done, then leave and send Kenji back in.”

“Oh, yeah. Why? Because he’s another one of your boy toys? He gonna be naughty again with you once I leave?!”

“Pfft, I said that knowing it was you, idiot.”

“I think you live to torture me, Angel. But you’re right. I don’t wanna fight right now either, so—” Natsu leaned down quick and latched his mouth onto the area between her shoulder blades, sucking hard.

Lucy squealed and reached back frantically trying to claw at his face, but he grabbed her hands, knowing if she struggled any harder, she risked completely exposing herself. He held her for a few seconds, and once satisfied he’d achieved his goal, let go.

“Natsu! Did you put a hickey on me?!”

“This Angel,” he trailed his fingers over Lucy’s tattoo as he spoke, “belongs to me. Will always be mine,” he whispered close to her ear. “You know it, I know it, and your boy toys will know it too.”

“I hate you.”

“Nah,” Natsu stood up and covered her back up with the sheet. “You hate that you don’t hate me. It’s okay. I still love you too. See ya around kitten.”

Natsu heard the woman’s sigh as the door closed behind him and smiled to himself. He knew she didn’t actually hate him, their relationship was just complicated at the moment, never love the actual problem between them… Though, it had been a dick move to give her a hickey, but that’s what Lucy gets for leading him on like that. She could’ve just stopped the massage immediately if she knew it was him all along, so to let him go through the entire process, it was tit for tat— and hey, at least it’s only temporary.

‘It’s your move next kitten…’

#nalu #nalu au #nalu fan fiction #nalu yakuza au #nalu fan fic #natsu dragneel #lucy hearfilia #ch 7 #we'll take back heaven #petri808 #lemony scented

43 notes · View notes

whats-rambled-rambled · 4 years ago

Text

Long Nights - part 5

Neil x Reader

Chapter 5: After rain

(see chapter 4, 3, 2, 1)

summary: you learn to cope with the new situation, but you aren't the only one struggling

warnings: 18+, angst and pain, explicit language and other things

author’s note: This part of the story's been with me for... oh, so long. I just hope I did it justice. ✨6,1k words.✨ I don't even know.

Hurt/Comfort.

The song for this part is Dermot Kennedy - After rain

Enjoy! All feedback is greatly appreciated, let me know what you think?

——————

Tag list: @cxnnienikas @neutron-stars-collision @ergunbilge @invertedneil @wanderedaway @mellifluous-cosmos @wonderwoman292 @buckysgoldenheart @townmoondaltwistle @theriverbeneaththeriver (please let me know if you want to be added/removed from the list)

-----

Your hands clenched on the bed’s frame, its coldness felt like the only real thing your drugged mind could process.

Doctor’s words were filling the room, but they were muffled as if they were coming from behind a barrier. Falling from such height...extreme luck...no broken bones…head trauma...internal bruising....

Was all that talking really necessary? Yeah, you were battered, all right. And it seems that even with painkillers the weird throbbing, like a morse code from your bruised cells, was about to stay with you for a little while.

...just like the darkness.

The more the doctor spoke, the more it became clear that they didn’t have any definite answers for you. Seemed like the day spent on being prodded, stabbed with needles, and tossed into various machines resulted in nothing more than a verdict: optic nerve injury.

As for what were you supposed to do now--

“Let me get this straight, doctor,” you said, slowly losing patience. “Your only solution now is: let’s wait and see what happens?”

Drumming fingers against a piece of plastic, followed by a sigh.

“Yes. There is no effective treatment, we could try a high dosage of corticosteroids, but there is no evidence that it’s gonna make any difference, really. And as some recovery may spontaneously occur within days or weeks--”

Weeks.

A cold shiver ran down your spine and you swallowed with effort.

And that was a maybe.

You just wanted to go home.

“Grand,” you cut in, “please tell me I can wait for that possible joyful occurrence anywhere else but here.” You aimed for a lighter tone, but every word coming out of your mouth was dripping with bitterness. Grimacing at your own attitude, you forced a weak smile to appear on your face. “No offense, doc.”

“None taken,” the doctor said with a snicker. “I get it.” A short pause filled with a rustling of paper. “With all the tests done, I don’t think we need to keep you here for observation any longer, but I’d recommend you weren’t alone for the next few days. Do you have anyone to take care of you after we discharge you?”

“I don’t need--”

Neil’s firm voice overlapped with yours.

“Yes, she has.”

You huffed, startled. And a bit annoyed.

You almost forgot Neil was in the room, but to be fair, you were quite sure he’d never left your side since you woke up. His initial nervous chatter got replaced by a silent presence, always ready to jump in should you needed anything - no matter if it was a glass of water or an arm to lean on. It was all comforting, endearing even, and you were so grateful to have him around, but the thought of having Neil in your apartment triggered an irrational panic.

Instead of dwelling on the roots of the anxiety, you decided to over-talk it.

“Neil, I appreciate the offer, but I’ll be okay, and you surely have better things to do than babysitting me.”

“I don’t.” Was that a hint of hurt in his voice? “Doctor, can you discharge her even if she is gonna be alone out there?”

“I’d rather she spent at least one more day here then.”

Unbelievable. You rolled your eyes, hoping it would make the same effect as always, and groaned. “Fine, you win, only because I want nothing else but to sleep in my own bed tonight.”

“Excellent,” said the doctor cheerfully, “I’ll get the forms and come back to you soon.”

“Thank you, doc,” you sighed, hanging your head in defeat.

After spending enough time with a person, it was always easy to recognize them by the way they walk. That’s how you knew it was Neil who approached you, ever so hesitantly.

And only because of a brush of his fingers against your hand you realized you were still clinging onto the bed frame.

“Hey, I’ll just help you set up everything you need there, all right?” he said quietly and you felt him sitting down next to you. “You’re gonna have all the space you want, and as soon as you decide it’s too much, I’ll get out of your hair, I promise.”

He must have noticed that little panic of yours, huh?

“I didn’t mean it like that.” You squeezed your eyes shut, trying to form a coherent thought. “It sounds good though, thank you.”

“Sure thing.” Neil shifted slightly. “How are you feeling?”

You shrugged and grimaced. “I don’t know, but either I’ve slept through the best high or these drugs they gave me are kinda lame.” Hearing Neil’s light chuckle, you cracked a small smile. “Honestly? I’m knackered.”

He hummed with sympathy.

“Is there anything I can do for you now?”

The softness in his voice was more than your tired and dazed mind could handle. You leaned to the side and rested your head on his shoulder.

“Just… take me home,” you asked, forcing the words past your clenched throat.

Neil exhaled sharply and carefully wrapped an arm around you, pressing a cheek to the top of your head.

“Of course.”

------

“Welcome to my crib.”

“Thank you, it’s...” - Neil hesitated as he closed the door behind you - “...cosy.”

Patting the wall to your right, you located a small hook and hung the keys on it.

“That is certainly one word for it,” you snorted. “Why, what did you expect?”

“Frankly? Considering you’re such an... acclaimed locksmith, I imagined something… well, bigger, for starters.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at the way he stumbled on words, trying so hard not to sound offensive in any way.

Grinning, you put on your most snobbish tone. “Ah, sorry to disappoint, all my gold, glitter, and general pizzaz got moved to one of my many summer houses as my spacious lair worthy of the most infamous thief is under renovation, so I was forced to retreat to my humble family place in this ghastly neighborhood.”

“Such a shame,” he said and a smile brightened his words. “I like it, though. Matches your vibe, somehow.”

“Because it’s small, detached, empty, yet somehow messy?”

Neil sighed in a way you were absolutely sure he was rolling eyes at you, then helped you with the coat. “It’s gonna take more than putting words in my mouth to make me want to leave you here all by yourself, you know.”

You were quite sure a dirty joke was hiding in there, but it eluded your tired brain.

“Damn, need to up my game then,” you giggled, leaning against the wall to take the shoes off without losing your balance. “Nah, I’m messing with you, I’m grateful you got me out of there. Can’t wait to rinse that hospital stench off of me.”

“Do you want me to run a bath for you?”

You mused over the idea for a moment, “Thanks, I’ll take a shower - two minutes tops and I’d end up asleep in the ‘tub.” Probably even faster, considering that you already were running on fumes. “Anyway, make yourself at home, gonna grab some fresh clothes.”

Neil was not willing to give up.

“I’ll get you--”

“I’ve got this,” you uttered, instantly hating yourself for how harsh it came out, so you quickly added, “But would you please put the kettle on?” sending an apologetic grimace along with your words.

“On it.”

He seemed happy to have something to do. Or at least sounded like it as he took the crackling grocery and takeaway bags to the kitchenette.

You walked across the room with confidence, your hand reluctantly extended ahead on your waist level just in case you miscalculated the route to the bedroom. When you reached the door frame, you smiled to yourself. It wasn’t that hard, was it? Almost like going to the bathroom at night, not willing to put the light on to avoid waking up, right?

And exactly then, your shin hit the edge of the bed footboard, the impact sending a searing wave of pain up your whole leg. You bit your knuckle to stifle a groan and a curse that was bound to follow. Every. Goddamn. Time.

The noises coming from the other room stopped, but luckily there was no question. Nor a hero coming to rescue you from the sudden and vicious attacks of furniture.

Finally, the closet. Your fingers ran through the folded clothes. Clean underwear. A soft t-shirt. Comfy pj pants. The fatigue was so severe that the term dress to impress didn’t even cross your mind. Not that Neil cared, right? But before you stepped back from the wardrobe, you hesitated, sliding your hands down to one of the bottom drawers. All that boring into nothingness was straining, and keeping your eyes closed all the time felt wrong, somehow. Might as well, you shrugged, pulling out a silky blindfold. Maybe this would trick your brain into thinking it was just a game. A temporary thing. Nothing serious.

...but what if--

You took a shaky breath and slammed the closet shut. Swallowing with effort, you took the clothes and limped out of the room, then followed the wall to the bathroom.

Neil’s concerned voice reached you halfway there.

“You okay?”

“Peachy,” you said and flashed your teeth in a strained grin.

“Let me know if you need anything, all right?”

A change of strategy, then. You certainly didn’t mind, at least this way it didn’t trigger the unnecessarily rude reaction. And you had a feeling that you were going to need a pair of eyes to take care of those bruises of yours.

...or you could just follow the radiating ache and slap some gel where it hurts most, but at this point, as the painkillers were slowly wearing off, it would probably be easier to just pour the whole tube on the tiles and roll over in it.

“Will do, thanks.”

You closed the door behind you and sighed. The undressing required an accompaniment of grunts, hisses and curses, and when you finally got into the shower (hitting yourself only once while doing so) you were all sweaty and panting as if you’d run up twenty flights of stairs.

You winced as the warm water poured over your body, but you couldn’t wait to get rid of the lingering smell of antiseptics. Using soap uncovered the injured spots with a burning precision, but you gritted your teeth and soldiered through it, changing position slightly so you wouldn’t cause more damage with shampoo and conditioner. Condemning your past self for choosing a matching set of hair products, you were forced to guess and pick one to pour a little bit of it on your hand to judge which is which based on the texture of the fluid. Why did you even bother…?

When you were done and more or less dry, you put on the panties and wrapped another towel around yourself. A slow thumping in your head was growing stronger by the minute, but it was still bearable. As for taking care of the bruises… you realized you didn’t even know where the arnica ointment was. You’d bought one on your way just in case, but that meant--

You groaned and rubbed an eye with the back of your hand. Help it was, then.

“Neil?” you called out, cracking open the door.

A sudden rumble of a chair made you cringe, but a corner of your mouth twitched.

“What is it?” he asked as his rushed steps carried him closer.

“Could you help me with putting something on the most banged-up spots, please?” - a sheepish smile crept on your lips - “I thought about just mixing some cream with my lotion and rubbing it all over, but--”

He scoffed as if the idea personally offended him. “Jesus, please don’t. I’ll be right back.”

Your legs seemed to weigh a tonne, but also started to shake as though they were about to give in any moment, so you sat back on the edge of a bathtub with relief.

Neil came back after a while and muffled clanking suggested he brought a full medkit with him. You waited as he washed his hands thoroughly, and you stifled an amused giggle at the dedication, even though it was nothing more but common sense.

Neil’s soft voice broke the silence. “I’m gonna take a look at those wounds first, but for that, I need to touch you, is it okay?”

“Yeah, of course,” you shrugged. “I imagine you can’t do plenty without that, huh?”

A light chuckle. “Fair enough.” And featherlike touches that followed.

Careful fingers examining every bruised inch of skin, starting from the freshly hurt shin, scraped knees, going up your thighs until they met the edge of the towel. Then, ghosting over your hands, unhurriedly moving up the forearms…

You realized your breath got shaky.

He tucked a still quite damp strand of hair behind your ear and his fingertips glided over your forehead and down your temple, traced your jawline up to your chin. His knuckles grazed your neck, then moved across your collarbones, but when they met the towel again, Neil hesitated.

“Nothing you haven’t seen before, right?” you joked playfully and untucked the corner of the towel, letting it slide down your body.

A sharp inhale and a slipped-out curse.

“Christ…” uttered Neil, and you were quite sure what he was referring to. Your hip pulsated with dull pain in the place where the oxygen container had been, or rather where it must have moved to during the escape, bruising the hip bone and surrounding area at the impact.

You forced a crooked smile to your face. “And here I was hoping it looked better than it felt.”

“I can always lie to you if you want,” he offered, aiming for a lighter tone.

Shaking your head, you nibbled on your bottom lip. Somehow, the sole thought of him lying to you seemed like a certain heartache.

“No.” Your voice sounded weak, but maybe that was understandable, given how powerless you felt overall. Or maybe you could stop being so pathetic any moment now.

You closed your eyes, and while you tried to parley with your brain to give you a break, Neil started meticulously treating your wounds, focused on not causing any more discomfort than it was needed. You switched all your attention to his ministrations, grimacing slightly from time to time as he was tending particularly sore spots. Neil’s warm fingers contrasted with the cold ointment, all the different sensations fought a merciless battle to take precedence over one another, making even more of a mess in your tired head.

You heard Neil shifting in front of you as he was about to move to your injured face. Acting on an impulse, you spread your legs to allow him to come closer, and so he did, positioning himself on his knees between your thighs without a word. Quite a concentration, you thought and smiled fondly to your memories of the times you’d seen him so committed to a task. Slightly furrowed brows, blonde strands falling into shining blue eyes, with a bottom lip tugged between the teeth...

A brief touch on your temple brought you back to reality and you gasped, reaching out to hold on to Neil to keep your balance. As you rested your hands on his sides, he gently cupped your face and continued with taking care of the bruises. It felt as if the warmth radiating from him was mending you whole, even more so when it got combined with tender, soothing brushes of Neil’s thumb against your cheek. You melted into his palm and exhaled slowly, dropping your shoulders and relaxing.

Before you could stop the words from spilling out, you said under your breath, “It was just a fall, I don’t know how it got that bad,” voicing the thought that’s been on your head all day.

Neil pulled back abruptly and the tranquil moment shattered like glass against the bathroom tiles.

“Are you being serious right now? Just a fall? You’re lucky you’re alive, goddamnit, let alone able to walk!” Disbelief mixed with anger in his tone, taking you aback. And to your surprise, it felt like yet another wound, inflicted right at your chest. “Y-you hit the wall before you crashed on the ground, you--” his voice broke and Neil sighed. You heard him packing the medkit, simply tossing things inside before he moved away.

“Oh,” was all you could say, reaching for the abandoned towel to wrap it over your shoulders, in a sudden and desperate need to cover yourself. In every way possible. “Remind me to tie a cat and a buttered slice of bread to myself the next time we do this.”

He didn’t respond to your poor attempt at lighting up the mood, instead, you heard the door handle, a deadpanned “I’ll heat up the food” and he was gone.

You had no idea where his reaction had come from. Normally, you’d have followed him straight away to confront him, but right then you felt so exhausted and helpless you just slouched in your spot, with your hands fisted on the towel, and sat like that for a while, leveling your breath. You mustered all the strength you had left, found your clothes and put them on. Then, you tied the blindfold, letting a piece of sleek material bring a shred of comfort and hide a pitiful glimmer in the corners of your eyes.

You joined Neil in the other room and sat at the table. He didn’t comment on your attire nor the choice of accessories, hell, he barely even spoke to you when he put the plate in front of you, as well as through the whole meal.

Even though you’d picked up your favourite comfort food on the way, it tasted bland, and with your stomach tied into a knot, you couldn’t force more than a few bites into your system. Judging by the sounds - or rather the lack thereof - coming from across the table, Neil’d lost his appetite too.

Finally, you cleared your throat, breaking the heavy silence. “I think I’m full,” you said and stood up, grimacing slightly.

“I’ll do the dishes, go lie down,” he said quietly. “Please.”

As if he anticipated an argument. You really had no energy for that.

“Thank you. Are you--...” you stumbled on the question, but Neil chimed in.

“I’ll be on the couch.”

...maybe it was for the best.

You nodded and turned on your heel to fetch a spare pillow and a blanket while Neil was occupied with the dishes. The ever-growing headache was becoming unbearable, but you hoped that the sweet arms of Morpheus would bring a much-needed release soon. You brushed your teeth quickly and mumbling “‘night,” you disappeared into the bedroom, leaving the door half open for god knows what reasons. Perhaps to make you feel less alone.

The plan of sleeping off the worst pain looked good on paper but proved to be too hard to execute. That bloody awful feeling of being tired beyond comprehension and still unable to doze off, right? You tossed and turned (although carefully), trying to find the most comfortable position. After a while, you took the blindfold off and curled on your side, staring into the nothingness again. Listening to the sound of running water coming from the bathroom. Forcing every breath through your clenched chest. Trying to focus on anything other than neverending soreness.

You heard Neil’s footsteps and how they stopped right at your door. Stalling.

And you didn’t even try pretending you were asleep. Waiting.

“Hey... I wanted to check if you need anything before I turn in for the night.”

The softness of his voice was tainted by something as if he was holding back. But you were so glad to hear it anyway.

“Actually,” you said, propping yourself on the elbow and wincing, “could you bring me one of those fancy painkillers, please? I thought I might do without for a little while but-- ...yeah, not quite.”

“Of course, coming right up.”

When Neil was back, you sat on the bed, allowing him to hand you a glass and ...a shot glass? You shook the latter slightly and something rattled inside.

“Ah, okay, smart,” you smiled with recognition. “Thanks.”

“Don’t tell me you thought it was vodka?”

A hint of amusement in his tone made you snort.

“I can’t say I would mind,” - shrugging, you swallowed the pill and washed it down with cool water - “but this is gonna be more efficient, I guess.”

You shifted in your spot to put down both glasses on a bedside table. Neil was there to make sure you actually placed them on top of it, pushing your forearm gently when you were about to create a mess.

That light touch brought a lump back to your throat. As if the awkward silence wasn’t suffocating you enough.

“If that’s all…” said Neil quietly, taking a step towards the door.

But you reached out into the darkness and found his hand.

“Neil…” you squeezed his fingers, desperately trying to convey words that eluded you. Your plea was barely a whisper. “...stay?”

The pulse pounded in your ears as the stillness that followed seemed to last forever.

Then, Neil squeezed your hand back.

“I will,” he choked out, and his thumb grazed over your knuckles. “Be right back.”

You nodded and let go of his hand, not even sure that he could see your gesture, then moved to the other side of the bed. The held-back breath escaped in a shudder as another wave of pain overrode your senses, leaving a trail of cold sweat down your spine.

A faint tock of the light switch in the other room, then footsteps and a pillow landing next to yours. Neil snuggled down, keeping his distance, and you curled again in your spot, hoping that his proximity will calm you down enough to fall asleep. But as you said your goodnights and Neil’s breath leveled and got deeper, you still waited on the pills to start working, getting more and more lost in your own head and thoughts you’d managed to keep lidded on until now.

Because if only you’d cracked that safe faster. Or maybe if you’d discussed that escape route beforehand, somebody would have found a better path through the roofs. No, scratch that, the plan was tight, and it was your goddamn fault that you’d gotten distracted by a sodding rain, of all things. And that jump? Bloody amateur hour. Should have seen that coming, stepped to the side, or caught onto anything. You’d been granted a second chance at that wall. But no, you’d had to panic like a bush-leaguer, as if it had been your first fall in your life. And now you were lying there, feeling sorry for yourself. Abso-fucking-lutely pathetic.

What if Madame Karma finally decided to make you pay? What if you were never going to get your sight back? A warm tear trickled down your face slowly. No more free runs and adrenaline rushes while taking shortcuts through the most obscure places. No more lying on the rooftops to observe how the sky changes colours through the night. No more sitting on the hill and watching how the sun reflected in the river. How it danced on that messy blonde hair. You would never see his blue eyes lighting up again--

Your chin trembled as the tears stained your pillow. It felt as if you were nothing but pain, fear, and heartbreak. Pressing your lips together, you stifled a sob that shook your body mercilessly. You were nothing.

“What’s wrong?”

You wanted to brush it off, to tell him you were okay and he could go back to sleep. But instead, you sniffled and whimpered, unable to pass any word through your tightened throat.

Neil gasped and placed a hand on your shoulder.

“Hey, hey, come here,” he said softly as his fingers pressed lightly onto your back, urging you to move and you shifted into his embrace, clenching your fists on his t-shirt, struggling for every breath. “I’ve got you, it’s okay, it’s gonna be okay,” he cooed, wrapping the arms around you gingerly. A much-needed reassurance whispered over and over again like a plea to anyone who could be listening.

Weeping quietly into Neil’s chest, you sought refuge in his closeness, clinging onto him as he held you and stroked your hair, waiting for the worst to pass. Soon, you ran out of tears, and there were just sobs, convulsing you whole like a heart-wrenching hiccup. Neil hugged you a little tighter, placed a small kiss on top of your head, and started humming, a melody barely more than a murmur. It felt familiar, but why?

By and by, the song and a steady heartbeat against your cheek weaved together and calmed your racing mind. Enough to finally let you drift off, with Neil’s soothing voice and warmth enveloping you, bringing comfort and hope for a better tomorrow.

-----

You should have known better than to expect something to be different when you woke up. Swallowing down the disappointment and resignation, you dug yourself up from under the covers. The pain dialed down, but was very much there, especially during sudden moves.

Maybe you would feel better if you washed your face, still a bit puffed after all that--

…oh shit.

Your brain halted, torn between making you cringe and spreading the warmth through your chest. If you were to survive the day, the key was not to think about what happened last night. At least you didn’t have to look him in the eyes, huh? Armed with a smile, albeit a bit sour, you grabbed some clothes on your way out and ventured into the quiet living room.

“Neil?”

For a split second you were sure he was gone, but--

“Over here.” Judging by the sound of it, here was somewhere near the couch. “How are you feeling?”

Concern. Obviously. He’d seen you at your worst, so there was no point in hiding your state.

“Like I’ve spent some time inside a cement mixer,” you sighed. “But better, thanks. What time is it?”

“Almost 3 o’clock.” A faint thud of a book being put down. “Are you hungry? I was about to fix something.”

It was a good moment for your insides to growl in confirmation, but at least this time your body decided to spare you. Although your stomach was pretty much cleaving to your backbone, all right.

“Oh yes, please.” You smiled with appreciation and raised a hand with a bundle of clothes. “I’ll join you in a minute.”

That minute took a little longer, as your mobility was still pretty lacking, but fresh as a (beaten-up) daisy, in a comfortable outfit and a blindfold, you followed your nose to the kitchenette.

“Smells delicious.”

A soft chuckle came through the sizzling. “Hope it tastes good as well, wanna try?” When you nodded, you heard Neil walking up to you. “Open your mouth, careful - it’s hot.”

You recognized the rich flavor as some variation of the Napoli sauce, perfectly balanced, and you could only hum in approval. Where the hell had he gotten those herbs from?

“It’s amazing,” you said, but couldn’t resist a little smirk, “or I’m just starving.”

Neil scoffed lightly. “Might be that.” There was a smile and a hint of pride in his tone, and it made you beam a little wider. “Come sit down.”

When you did, and a bowl of pasta landed in front of you on the table, your mind involuntarily went back to last evening. That tension. Sudden distance. Everything after that. What was worse, it seemed like you weren’t the only one thinking about it, because the silence that fell between you now grew heavy with unresolved issues lingering in the air.

But maybe you were misreading the room and you were fine.

“Listen, about yesterday--”

...or not.

Instead of letting Neil finish, you panicked, and before you could stop yourself, you used his moment of hesitation to blurt out, “Oh god, I’m so sorry, I was exhausted and everything hurt and--” you frowned and hid the face in your palm. The shame felt like a tightening ring around your chest, making it hard to breathe. ”I’m sorry you had to see that.”

“Wait, what?” huffed Neil, his voice filled with consternation. ”Jesus, no, that’s not what I meant, I--” he faltered and groaned, then added more softly, “Why are you even apologizing for that?” And when you shook your head, unable to find the right words, Neil gently touched your arm, rubbing it up and down slowly. “I’m glad you weren’t alone.”

Your heart clenched with fondness as you palmed over his hand.

“Thank you for being there for me.”

A twist of the wrist and a light squeeze on your fingers.

“Of course.”

Like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

After a moment, you asked quietly, “If it isn’t about that, then what?”

A loud buzz cut through the air, the unexpected noise almost making you jump in your seat. Impeccable timing.

Neil picked the vibrating phone from the table. “It’s work, I have to get that.” His hand was still holding yours, reluctant to let go. “If I’m not done by the time you finish eating, two words: bed rest.”

“May I make it a couch rest, doc?” you grinned, and by the resigned sigh you could tell Neil definitely rolled his eyes at you.

“Just make yourself comfy and horizontal, all right?” A final brush of his thumb against your fingers and he was up, walking off from the table. “Hi, what’s up?”

Whatever they needed him for, it took so much time that you finished your meal and obediently moved to the couch. That unfinished talk left you anxious enough to nervously pick at the edge of the blanket, but as Neil was still lost in a hushed conversation, and the aforementioned blanket was way too cosy, you slowly drifted off into a dreamless nap.

You weren’t sure what woke you up - a shift on the other side of the couch, or a heavy sigh, one of those signaling the weight of the whole world on somebody’s shoulders. Hearing the latter was enough to wipe the remains of sleep from your system and you sat up, grunting slightly.

“What is it?”

Another sigh.

“I’m an idiot.”

You puffed your cheeks and shrugged, a corner of your mouth twitching in a nervous smile.

“Before I let out a purposeful no and kick you - why are you saying that?” Silence. “...Neil?” When the answer was not coming for too long, you moved to your knees, reaching out until you touched his shoulder. No reaction. Trying to keep a rising worry at bay, you urged him quietly, “Talk to me, please.”

Neil inhaled slowly and he finally spoke, his voice barely there.

“I’m so sorry.”

“For what?” you asked, knitting your brows together as you brushed your hand down his arm only to find his clenched fist, tightening even further under your touch.

“For yesterday, for letting it out on you, when you were just--” he paused to swallow audibly, and then continued, blurting out one strained word after another, “and all of that while this whole mess is my goddamn fault because if I hadn’t hesitated out there, we both would have made it in time--”

“No, no, no, you can’t do that to yourself,” you said, crawling into his lap and nestling between his legs, wrapping yours around his waist. “It was a perfectly normal reaction.” The pulse thumped in your ears when you placed one hand on Neil’s chest and the other one travelled up along his neck to cup his face. Then your thumb glided over a wet trail on his cheek and it felt as if your heart shattered into a million pieces. Oh please, no. “My darling...” you whispered, but it was as if Neil barely acknowledged you were there, trembling and lost.

He pressed his forehead to yours and continued, traces of dread ringing in his hollow tone more and more with every choked-out sentence.

“When I turned back and I saw that--….at first, I thought you’d been shot, then you fell and-- suddenly all I could think was if your oxygen container was intact, or--... I called the Cavalry on the way down but I was so scared I was too late, I thought--” his voice broke and you felt him frowning as he shuddered, struggling to carry on. “I thought that you were gone, and I didn’t--”

His heart raced under your palm while you kept stroking his cheek, consoling him softly, “Neil, I’m here, it’s all right, I’m here.” But when that didn’t seem like enough to bring him back to you, you reached to his neck to pull him closer and kissed him, desperate to make him stop spiralling down. To make him stop hurting.

A muffled whine against your lips. But then you felt him melt and he kissed you back, still helpless, wrapping his arms around you carefully as if he expected you to fall apart under his touch. Not quite there. You deepened the kiss purposefully, burying your hands in his hair, tugging at the strands as you pressed yourself to him as much as you could in your position. You didn’t care about your own pain or discomfort. If any of you were meant to be lost in any way, it might as well be this. Neil gasped and lifted you up so you properly straddled him, then tightened the embrace, clinging on to you for dear life as he captured you in another kiss, and this time it was his turn to try to convey the unbearable mixture of despair, relief, and immense longing. All of that poured into this simple act of devotion until there was nothing but pure need. To touch and to be touched. To hold and to be held. To be close. To be wanted. To be found.

A breathless moan escaped your mouth and Neil pulled back ever so slightly.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” he said softly, his fingertips gliding over your features.

Oh, how much you missed looking into his eyes.

The fact that he cared, without simply going ahead with it, made your chest clench with fondness. At this point, you trusted him beyond reason, although it was still nice to hear it.

“I’m not made of glass,” you huffed, nuzzling his nose.

A low hum and a trail of kisses along your jawline. You shivered when his lips reached a spot just below your ear and then smiled against your skin.

“Are you sure?” his husky voice was playful, but you knew he was double-checking.

“Try me.”

That moment was not about chasing the high. It was about feeling each other. Being with one another. As close as possible. That couldn’t wait, and neither could any of you, tugging at the clothes in random order with urgency.

Neil looped his arm around your shoulders, settling you on your side in his embrace. Keeping you steady. Safe. Close. And even though his kisses were desperate and leaving you winded, his touch was gentle, and you knew the blue eyes were watching you attentively, ready to react to the smallest sign of discomfort. But also to any encouragement to go further.

A hitched breath. A leg hooked on his hip. Fingers dragged across his back.

He was ready to give you everything and take whatever you were willing to offer. And you wanted to do the same for him until everything else lost its meaning and it was just you and him, and the fire that burned inside you. Searing every nerve. Cleansing the doubts. Numbing the pain. Lighting up the darkness. And, in the end, bringing resolution as you both came undone, moaning and gasping for air only to be comforted by hands cupping cheeks and yet another kiss. Slow. Tender. Full of admiration.

When Neil drew back and shifted slightly, you whined in protest, wrapping your leg around him tighter to keep him in place.

“Where are you going?”

A quiet chuckle, followed by a feeling of a soft blanket sliding over your naked body. And a kiss on the tip of your nose.

“I’m not going anywhere.”

You sighed with content as Neil pulled you closer again. The light stubble scratched your fingers as they studied the impossible angles of his face unhurriedly.

“Good.”

(next chapter ->)

#neil tenet #neil tenet x reader #neil x reader #neil tenet fanfiction #robert pattinson #tenet #tenet fanfiction #neil tenet imagine #long nights

59 notes · View notes

leftonraed · 4 years ago

Text

The Night We Met - Prologue

pairing : Taehyung x OC genre : bodyguard!au, singleparent!au, idol!au word count : 1.7k Prologue | ep.1 | ep.2 | ep.3 | ep.4 | ep.5 | ep.6 | ep.7

The show was a great success. A chant of his name resonates in the huge stadium, crowded out as he’s bowing a second time to the thousands of lightsticks shaking in the darkness like fireflies dancing and set to burn down the starry night they composed.

Moved, he raises his arm to wave to those luminous spots so precious to him, making sure not to miss any while his heart is swelling with pure bliss and his throat grows tight. He reluctantly ends up walking towards the back of the stage and positions himself on a squared shape platform which slowly takes him down at the same time the lights dimmed one last time tonight.

Members of the crew who’ve been waiting for him begin surrounding him as soon as he steps off the small platform and heads to the dressing room. Signs of fatigue are showing but he doesn’t forget to give smiles and thank yous when they congratulate him while removing his microphone set, handing him a water bottle and wiping his sweat.

He blindly reaches the hall leading to his backstage room secured by a couple of bodyguards present, it isn’t his first time in this concert venue but he’s obliged to halt when he notices his manager staring back, displaying not the slightest sign of pride or gladness.

He picks up his march towards her with a hint of confusion. Her frowning is looking less threatening now that he’s a few inches from her but her body seems to tense when he reaches for the handle.

“What’s wrong?” He drops first, eying her back while she uncrosses her arms.

“There’s a woman inside with a child who’s been begging the whole staff to get to talk to you.”

“What?” Not quite the reception he was expecting from her to say the least.

Her brow twitches at his lighthearted tone. He instantly grasps she’s not messing with him and doing her best to keep her voice low. “If you have something to tell me, I suggest you do it now, Taehyung.”

“Hwiin, I-” He chuckles not believing what he’s hearing. His frowning deepens when she still doesn’t flinch. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. And I really don’t have the energy to argue right now. Did you talk to her?” He suggests, trying to reason.

“No, I don’t want to have anything to do with her.” She spits, offended. “How can you not- recall her when she clearly claims to know you?” She snaps gesturing towards the door. “Now’s not the time for a scandal of any type. Far too many people know about the issue she caused already.”

People are busy around them, coming and going to get everything cleaned up while they both seem stuck in this silent staring game. He remains awfully quiet, not having quite a clue as to what to say back to have her not doubting him or assuaging her and it makes her this close to losing it.

“Maybe we should go inside?” He offers in a soft voice, clueless about the reason she’s so adamant to stew over it. She rolls up her eyes while brushing past him to get inside the room first.

He barely has had the time to catch sight of the said woman that Hwiin reminds him of her presence and even more so of her annoyance.

His puzzlement is all the more unmistakable, especially after he’s noted the toddler’s likeness to someone close to him. His gaze returns to the female stranger. She surely isn’t past her mid-twenties. She looks lost and her eyes are filled with so much hopelessness, it becomes disturbing.

“Hi,” he smiles invitingly, not allowing any tension to build. “I’m Taehyung. I heard you were looking for me?”

She nods carefully, not moving an inch on the couch where she’s sitting as if not to hinder the child in her arms while looking back and forth between him and his manager’s dark look.

“How can I help you?”

“I-I’m sorry I disturbed you and caused so much trouble,” she eventually says. “But-,” she fetches for something in her bag at her feet and the little girl stirs in her slumber, revealing her face.

“Hina?” Taehyung feels his heartbeat picking up and any previous sign of fatigue that has seemed to gain him are now long forgotten at her sight. He walks closer to her.

Hwiin furrows her brows at his back. The woman displays relief upon hearing the girl’s name, satisfied to finally see one thing go right.

“Whe- where’re her parents?” His eyes can’t look away from her tiny face nestled against her chest.

The stranger opens her hand to show a piece of paper. “They went out earlier in the evening. They should have been home an hour ago. I was asked to call this number in case they wouldn’t answer their phone, and or go to these addresses.”

He takes it from her and Hwiin shortens the space between her and them to peek past his shoulder. There are his personal phone number, the concert venue and his penthouse addresses.

Her gaze moves to study the child’s face and her expression shifts to a worried one. After a few seconds, she looks up at him. “Who is she, Taehyung?”

The last bits of euphoria have vanished in the blink of an eye and left behind, instead, heavy presumptions.

“My niece,” he answers gravely.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

The pleasant purring of the black range rover running is the sole disruption in the quietness of the empty streets. Inside, the drive back home is uncomfortably silent for Hwiin. She feels terrible about her outburst. She knows he’d never be angry with her for that. She still wants to apologize but everytime she glances in the rear-view mirror, Taehyung still looks lost in thought.

As much as Hwiin values family bonds, she’d rather do without. Everything has been going perfectly great for her artist and now it all seems uncertain. How could he combine a demanding career and a very young child? How is she supposed to support him? She’d never ask him directly to somehow resolve this issue because she knows what he’d do. If he were to choose between the two, he’d opt for his niece in a heartbeat as painful as that reality comes off. The past seven years they spent together wouldn’t stand a chance when it comes to Taehyung.

His stare is glued on the night scenery. He doesn’t know what to think. His life’s just been shaken up by the tiny being cradled in his arms. That woman, who claimed to be Hina’s babysitter, had resorted to him as her solution like her employer, his brother, had instructed her to. His heart which has just been full of sheer happiness and gratefulness is now weighed down by so many questions and an unsettling foreboding.

He feels his shirt bunching and being pulled on; he looks down, weary.

“Dad-dy...”

Prickly tears blur his vision at the innocent call Hina makes in her sleep, unaware. He tightens his hold around her as a way to comfort himself.

“We’re here,” his manager softly announces while turning the wheel in the building parking lot. She pulls over near the elevator. Taehyung does his best to open the door, grab his back while safely carrying his niece before getting out. Hwiin hurries to give him a hand only to be politely refused.

She observes him quietly with mixed feelings as he simply stands there, gently brushing the little girl’s strands out of her face. She’s never taken the time before imagining what he’d look like as a father. It hasn’t been part of her plan. His greasy hair falls in his eyes, hiding his face. The man facing her seems somewhat unfamiliar.

She feels guilt creeping within her chest. “Taehyung I-”

“Don’t bother coming here unless I say so,” he cuts off looking at her with a weak smile. “I think I need some time to sort it all out.”

“Of course,” she pauses, fleeing his gaze. He’s always trying to lighten up the mood, she thinks. “I was wondering if you’d need me up there.”

“Go home. You should rest.”

She pouts a little, she’s already got her hooks into him and she hasn’t even awakened yet. Taehyung rarely rejected her for anything in the past. She innately feels the need to argue but relinquishes. It’s different now, she accepts.

He’s appreciative of her comprehension. He doesn’t like telling her he prefers to be alone for now. He’ll need every bit of his energy.

“You know you just have to call.”

They quietly pull apart. He gets in the elevator and she starts the engine once the doors come together.

His mind is empty the whole time it takes for the elevator to bring him to his apartment. He drops his bag on the floor, biting his lip when a curse wants to slip out because of the noise it makes. He suddenly realizes he doesn’t have somewhere appropriate for her to sleep in. Taehyung naturally settles for his bedroom and wonders how he should arrange the beddings to make it as safe and comfortable as possible for a two year-old.

He manages to undo the sheets and grab a pillow with one hand before he gently lays her in. it’s a miracle she hasn’t woken up already. Standing still beside the bed, Taehyung stares at her in the darkness; he wants to do more when he’s done what is needed. He wonders whether he should get her nearer the middle of the mattress, he can’t think of anything to keep her from falling off.

After long minutes, he eventually thinks there’s nothing more left to do and leaves to shower. He lets the door open and makes it as quick as possible. He comes back to find her curled up on herself. It’s only once he’s under the sheets, right next to her side that he remembers his phone. The thought of joining the outside world again seems unappealing and he thinks it would only make him anxious.

He brings his focus back on Hina, blinking slowly until he gets pulled in a dreamless sleep as well.

////////////////////!\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\

Feedback greatly appreciated :B Reblog if you wish to read more

#taehyung smut #taehyung scenarios #Taehyung fluff #taehyung angst #bts smut #bts scenarios #taehyung x reader #bts fanfic #taehyung x oc #bts reactions #bts imagines

291 notes · View notes

official-weasley · 4 years ago

Text

Love, William (Bill Weasley x OC) - Chapter 6

WARNINGS: minor angst (because I can't help myself), some crying, Charlie being a sweet bean, Bill's wrath

Chapter 6 - George's Plan

Theodora woke up with a headache. She needs to stop sneaking into Fred and George’s room and stay there – working on products – until 4 in the morning. It was a good distraction, it made her forget about how painful it was to be friends with Bill.

Only a few more days until the end of summer and they can return to Hogwarts. She couldn’t wait if she was completely honest. Not only because it’s going to be easier for them to test the products but also because being around Bill was getting harder and harder each day.

A few more days and he’ll go back to Egypt and she can forget about him again – as much as she possibly can.

Working with the twins – being so busy – made her summer go by so fast and with everything that has been going on between her and Bill, she was happy it was going to be over. Next time, she will just decline the twins’ invitation to come to the Burrow. They will see each other plenty while running a shop together anyway.

She was surprised that there was no commotion this morning. Nobody was running down the stairs, nobody was making Mrs. Weasley mad. It was peaceful and rather nice.

Theodora put on a pair of shorts and a tank top and made her way downstairs. She couldn’t wait to eat some breakfast.

The second she got to the lower floor she heard Bill talking to Molly. She stopped, stretched her arms out, and took a deep breath. A few more days of hearing his sweet voice – the voice that gave her butterflies.

“Good morning, dear. What would you like for breakfast?” Mrs. Weasley greeted her with the warmest smile.

“Some eggs and bacon if it’s not much trouble.” Theodora yawned and walked toward the cupboard with plates.

She took one out, stood next to Molly, and waited for her eggs. She could feel a pair of eyes on her and when she looked over her shoulder she saw Bill leaning on his elbow, watching her. He quickly got back to his food when she caught him and she turned around to see if her eggs were done.

The gesture usually made her giggle as she often saw Bill observing her like that but at this point, it was just painful. That didn’t mean she could stop her cheeks from turning red. She wanted to sigh but held it in her mouth because she didn’t want Mrs. Weasley to ask any questions – especially not in front of her children.

Molly put the food on her plate and Theodora took some bread out of the basket and made her way toward the table. She giggled when she saw Fred snoozing on his arm, extended on the table.

Because her hands were full, she tried to pull out a chair with her foot but before she could do so, Bill stood up and pulled it out for her. Then he took her plate, placed it down for her, and gestured for her to sit.

She did without saying anything and Bill brought the chair – along with her – closer to the table. She didn’t know what to say. She was speechless. What was he doing?

“You look tired, I thought you could use some help.” He whispered to her and smiled sheepishly.

“Th-thank you.” She replied in a rusty voice, still amazed by his gesture.

She took a sip of the orange juice Mrs. Weasley poured for her and looked at Charlie who rolled his eyes at Bill and looked rather annoyed. Perhaps he and the twins finally gave up on teasing Bill.

It was about time.

Not that Theodora minded it – she found it amusing – and she couldn’t deny that she appreciated the boys trying to bring Bill’s attention to her. The twins knew she fancied Bill and Charlie probably wasn’t far behind but it was more than obvious that Bill wasn’t interested in her in that way no matter how much they teased him and she didn’t blame him. She understood that you can’t force attraction and it was for the best anyway.

She sighed in her glass, hoping nobody would notice, and started eating her food.

Charlie glanced at Fred who gently snored, his head next to his empty plate. He tried hard not to lean toward him and push him off the chair – they had such a peaceful morning, he wouldn’t want to make mum mad.

He then looked at George who was switching looks between Theodora and Bill and looked like he was about to throw a tantrum. Charlie nudged him with his elbow and when George looked at him, he raised his eyebrows in question what got him so agitated. George just shook his head, rolled his eyes, and stood up, taking his and Ginny’s empty plates to the sink.

Without saying a word, he left the kitchen. Charlie turned to Theodora and Bill. The former was more pushing her food around the plate, looking miserable and the latter kept sneaking looks at her.

He wanted to walk to them and just press their heads together but thought of a better idea at the last second. He nudged Fred, who woke up with a jolt and glared at Charlie for disturbing his slumber.

Charlie nodded his head, indicating that he should follow him out of the kitchen, and without asking questions, Fred did.

They found George in his room, aggressively trying to open a box of fireworks, sitting on the floor. Charlie pushed Fred inside the room and closed the door behind them.

“What did I miss? What is going on?” Fred asked, sitting on his bed.

“Did Theo tell you anything about what is happening between her and Bill?” Charlie asked bluntly.

“No,” George said in a huff.

“We tried asking her about it but she either changes the subject or punches us in the shoulder, her face turning red.” Fred pouted.

“Why? What do you know?” The twins said together.

“Nothing,” Charlie said through his teeth, “I have about enough of them sneaking looks at each other being miserable.”

“What should we do about it?” Gasped George.

“Do you have a plan?” Fred followed.

“I was hoping that you might come up with something.” Charlie rubbed his chin, leaned on Fred’s desk.

“Didn’t we try everything already?” Fred sighed, trying hard to think of anything.

“The teasing isn’t working, we have to get them to talk to each other.” Charlie thought out loud.

They were all staring at the half-opened fireworks on which George gave up opening before. They didn’t say a word to each other for 5 minutes, trying to come up with anything at all to help their brother and their friend get together.

They hated seeing them struggle like this and they didn’t care about their stupid excuses why they couldn’t be together. They were a perfect fit and the summer won’t end with their longing for each other if there is anything they can do about it.

“I think I might just have an idea that could work!” George stood up.

Fred and Charlie exchanged looks and stepped closer to George to hear his plan.

—

Theodora was sitting on the sofa reading a book with Ginny reading over her shoulder. She found it amusing since her book was about finances and she knew that Ginny didn’t have any interest in that but wanted to read anyway.

She turned the page. Only a chapter to go! She has been so busy this summer that she couldn’t finish one book. What a disaster. Usually, she read the most during summer but she has to get used to the fact that she’ll be busy studying for N.E.W.T.s and looking for a location for their shop.

“Theo!” She lifted her head automatically, hearing her name.

She looked at her watch. An hour and a half of nobody bothering her – that was definitely a record. She waited for Fred to speak further.

“Come here for a sec, will you?” George spoke now.

She marked her book and giggled as Ginny groaned, knowing she will leave her alone on the sofa.

“I’ll leave you the book, okay.” Theodora winked at Ginny, making her grin.

She shook her head and stood up. Why Ginny wanted to read about finances was beyond her.

She walked to where she presumed the voices of the twins were coming from. It led her to the broom closet just behind the house.

“What are you two up to?” She smirked at them.

“Oh, nothing. Don’t be afraid, you can step inside.” Fred gestured for her to join them in the small room.

Theodora stood there, her eyes narrowed. She knew her two best friends well enough to know that they were up to something but she figured that the sooner she joins them the sooner she can go back to reading her book.

She squeezed inside – it already being crowded with the twins standing there. They rotated so that she was against the wall and the second that happened Fred and George got the biggest smug expression on their faces.

“Charlie, now!”

The twins ran out and before Theodora could open her mouth to ask what was happening, Charlie showed up, holding Bill tight around his wrists. He pushed him inside, closed the door, and locked it.

“Charlie, what in the bloody hell are you doing?!” Bill shouted, banging on the door.

“You two need to talk!” Charlie replied, the twins laughing behind him.

“Unlock this door now, Charles!” Bill kept slamming his fist against it.

Theodora was leaning against the brooms behind her, her eyes wide and her heart beating faster and faster with each second.

“We are not letting you out until you two confess your feelings to each other,” Fred explained.

“Wha-” Bill stopped banging on the door and turned around, mortified.

Theodora wanted to die of embarrassment. She didn’t know what to do. She was sure that her facial expression matched that of Bill’s and this was probably the first time she was angry with the twins.

She understood that they wanted to do something about it but they took it too far this time and she wanted to strangle them. She can’t tell Bill how she feels, were they mental! She swore to herself that she will keep her feelings for herself and if she ought to ever do it she would want to do it in a more romantic way. And there was nothing romantic about being forced to share your feelings in a broom closet.

“I...” Bill tried speaking but the words just disappeared from his head. “I’m so sorry, Theodora. They, they are just messing around and...and I...” He started to stutter.

Theodora wanted to stop him but didn’t know how. She could see that he was just as uncomfortable as she was and she couldn’t think of anything to say to make the situation better.

“You know they are just messing around and they are being idiots.” Bill let out a nervous chuckle.

Theodora kept staring at him, her mouth slightly opened, nodding her head.

“They are just bored and...and they don’t know what to do with themselves so they...they keep messing with us and teasing us...but...but it doesn’t mean anything. You have to know that...” Bill took a deep breath.

For a second there, Theodora thought he was going to faint.

“...you have to know that I am aware of the age difference between us and...and I don’t condone this at all and...”

Theodora nodded again, not sure what to do. She opened her mouth a few times to say something but thought better of it. For a split second she thought that her telling him she has feelings for him wouldn’t be the worst idea in the world but seeing the panic in Bill’s eyes, him going on and on about their age difference made her shut her mouth for good.

“I...I know...that I...that you...you’re...” Bill’s stuttering was getting worse and he seemed seconds away from having a panic attack.

He stopped talking, closed his eyes, and took a deep breath.

“I know you’re too young for me and this,” he pointed at her and then at himself, “can never happen.”

“Uh-huh.” Was all Theodora could muster.

Why didn’t she bring her wand with her? Hasn’t she been friends with the twins long enough to know that she should never follow them without her wand? She could unlock the door and avoid this painful conversation.

“I...I agree with you.” Theodora breathed, swinging her hand as if she’s on board with what Bill was saying.

She wanted to laugh, letting him know that they should just brush this off but she couldn’t get anything out – not even a silent chuckle.

Bill sighed wistfully, his gaze lingering on her just for one more second before turning around and starting to bang on the door again.

“Charles, let us out. Now!” He roared.

Theodora heard the boys’ disappointing groans outside and someone unlocking the door. The second it opened, she rushed past Bill and squeezed through the door before Fred could fully open it.

While getting out, her eyes glistening with tears, she looked at Charlie whose disappointing face changed into an apologetic one the second he saw how upset she was.

“Theo, we’re sorry.” Fred tried grabbing her hand.

“I...just leave me alone, Fred.” She lifted her hand to his face and ran towards the nearby forest.

“Have you gits completely lost it?!” Bill stepped out of the broom closet, his face red with rage.

He has never reminded the twins more of their mum.

“What is wrong with you?” Bill shouted. “The teasing was fine but this...” Bill took a deep breath. “...you took it too far!”

“And you,” he turned to Charlie, “I told you to stop with this madness and you go and pull this off? How immature are you?”

“Haven’t you learned that your actions have consequences? Life isn’t a game and we are not your puppets!” He kept screaming in their faces.

Bill never lost his temper. He was always so collected and cool about everything. He scolded them on many occasions through the years and made them admit their mistakes and learn from them but this was something else.

They have never seen Bill so mad. They definitely took it too far and they already wished that they would just stay out of Bill and Theodora’s business.

“Bill...” Charlie gathered the courage to speak.

“Don’t you Bill me! I am warning you, if you step out of line again or mention me or Theodora again, I will break all of your noses! Got it?” He spat out and rushed to the door that led inside the house.

He slammed it after him, making the whole house shake.

Charlie, Fred, and George just stood there in complete shock, looking at the door.

“We have to go after her, George,” Fred said in a panic.

It was a bad idea. They didn’t think it through properly at all. They never thought it would upset her so much or that Bill would yell as he did or that it would end so badly.

“Don’t.” Charlie stopped them, extending his arm to prevent them from running after her. “I’ll go.”

“But she’s our best friend.” Fred and George said in unison.

“That’s exactly why it’s a bad idea.” Charlie frowned at them. “Let me do it.”

Before they could start arguing with him, Charlie already started in the direction Theodora ran off to.

—

Charlie was wandering by the edge of the forest for 15 minutes before finding Theodora, sitting on a stump, facing away from him. He slowly approached her, careful not to startle her, getting more nervous with each step.

To say that their plan went south was an understatement. Charlie never meant it to get this far and his intention was far from hurting either of them. He was disappointed in himself for acting like a child and not thinking their plan through. Bill should’ve broken their noses without a warning.

He was now standing a few steps away from Theodora, whose shoulders were rising and falling slightly due to her sobs. Charlie’s shoulders sank when he realized she was crying. He couldn’t believe he hurt his friend like this.

He took another step forward, stepping on a twig. The sound of it breaking made Theodora start brushing her eyes with her hands before turning around.

She exhaled loudly, relieved to see Charlie’s face.

“I know you said you wanted to be left alone but can I join you?” Charlie spoke softly.

Theodora sniffed, nodded, and moved over on the stump to give space for Charlie to sit down.

“I’m here to apologize. I am sorry for what we’ve done.”

The sincereness in his voice made Theodora look him in the eyes. She could see how much it pained him and that he truly was sorry for what they’ve pulled.

“It’s okay,” she hiccuped, “it was...funny.”

She didn’t know how else to describe it. She was madder with the twins than Charlie. It was obvious this wasn’t his idea and she appreciated that he came after her to apologize.

“Yeah, I can see how funny it is to you,” Charlie said with pain in his voice.

“Oh, this?” Theodora forced a chuckle, pointing at her eyes. “That’s just allergies.”

“Sure.”

Charlie put his hand on Theodora’s back and swallowed the nerves.

“I know you fancy Bill, Theo.” He said gently.

“It hurt...” Theodora shook her head.

She wanted to hold in the tears but couldn’t. Charlie pulled her in a half hug and pressed her tight against his chest.

“...him saying that out loud. I mean, of course, I knew that I am too young for him but hearing him say it...”

Charlie pushed her away slightly, took a handkerchief out of his left pocket, and gave it to her. Theodora wiped her cheeks with it.

“It’s not like that. Bill’s just...old-fashioned.” Charlie tried finding the right words.

“Oh, don’t give me that, Charlie. You’ve heard what he said – he doesn’t think of me that way. I’m just a kid, his brothers’ friend.” Theodora blew her nose in the handkerchief.

“I wouldn’t say that.” Charlie tilted his head, hoping Theodora would look at him.

“Right. Don’t give me false hope.” She sniffed.

“Alright,” Charlie lifted his hands in defeat, “I’m just saying it’s not like that at all.”

Theodora finally looked at him, her nose red and her eyes puffy.

“It doesn’t matter. At least it’s over with.” She sighed.

She buried her head into Charlie’s shoulder and started crying again.

“Sometimes I wish I was like you, Charlie. Then I wouldn’t have to get my heart broken.” Theodora said after a few minutes of silence.

Charlie put his hands on her shoulders and pushed her away.

“Trust me, you don’t mean that.” He said gently.

“Isn’t it better to feel no attraction toward anyone and you don’t have to deal with all these thoughts and emotions?”

“Yeah, it’s really fun at family gatherings when relatives start asking you why are you still single, why don’t you ever bring a girl home, what is wrong with you,” Charlie said sarcastically.

“And then you try to explain that you simply don’t experience romantic and sexual attraction, being proud of who you are, saying it out loud and then seeing their faces of disgust, rolling their eyes, patting your shoulder and telling you you’ll grow out of it and that they can’t wait to get your wedding invitation.” He sighed.

“Charlie...I...I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said anything.” Theodora bit her lip.

“I’m not emotionless. It doesn’t mean I can’t get hurt by friends or family.”

Charlie came out to her in one of his letters last year and she supported him fully. Unfortunately, she couldn’t say the same about some of his family members. Even though his closest family understood, some of the others had a hard time doing so and brushed it off as a phase. For her, nothing changed. He was still Charlie, her former Quidditch captain, her friend and she regretted saying what she did.

“I didn’t mean it that way at all.” A tear ran down her cheek. “You know I support you.”

“Theo, relax, I know what you meant and I know you didn’t mean it in a bad way.” Charlie bestowed her with a warm smile. “I guess being me has its perks.”

Charlie lifted his chin proudly and made Theodora chuckle. She felt relief that Charlie wasn’t offended by what she said even though she still felt guilty about it. She just wanted to express the desire of not getting her heart broken and comparing that to his sexuality was wrong.

“There you go!” Charlie shook her shoulders, happy to make her smile. “You’re going to be okay, Theo.”

“I just can’t stop thinking if things would be different if I was older.” She glanced at him but looked away when she saw a smirk appear on his face.

“You’ll be 18 soon.” He winked at her.

“Oh, stop being such a hopeless romantic, Charles.” She nudged him with her shoulder. “Bill and I will never happen.”

“Okay, whatever you say.” Charlie made a kissy face. “But I’ll stay a hopeless romantic just so that I can tell you ‘I told you so’ when you two finally get together.”

Theodora couldn’t stop a smile spreading across her face as she playfully rolled her eyes at her friend, wishing she could share his optimism.

#harry potter fanfiction #the weasleys #weasley family #hp imagine #the burrow #harry potter imagine #weasley fanfiction #bill weasley #harry potter #wizarding world #bill weasley fluff #bill weasley fanfiction #bill weasley x oc #bill weasley imagine #summer at the burrow #bill weasley romance #fred weasley #george weasley #charlie weasley

30 notes · View notes