#the one where she has black hair and the ponytail swirls at the end reminds me of metis' design. ohhhh | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

sapphicwhxre · 4 years ago

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your first time | HCs

what your first time having sex includes (for anon)

Г includes : hermione granger, draco malfoy, harry potter, ron weasley, ginny weasley, pansy parkinson, fred weasley, george weasley, luna lovegood, cho chang, fleur delacour, nymphadora tonks, bellatrix lestrange, and narcissa black

♡─

hermione granger

♡─

actually researches everything she can to make it good for you (which ends up working really well)

is such a nervous wreck about making it perfect that you have to remind her

"it's with you, it'll already be perfect"

uses terms like vagina until you straight up tell her you're comfortable with dirtier words

foreplay QUEEN

does absolutely everything in her power to get you as wet as possible before doing anything

to the point where you wonder if you'll cum before even fucking

is already asking you what kinks you wanna try at this point

doesn't shut up but she's complimenting you the whole time

gets really encouraged + turned on whenever you moan

clingy, grinning mess after

asks you immediately what you want her to do better next time

♡─

draco malfoy

♡─

cocky, cocky, cocky

secretly really nervous but still plays it up

will not let you top

returns anything you do

doesn't stand for you being quiet

he will do everything in his power to get you as loud as possible

also doesn't take his eyes off you at all ─ like he wants to memorise every second of it and every inch of your body

pretty rough but instantly softens if he thinks he hurt you or something

won't cum until you do

tells you how hot you were after

teases you for cumming for him like that wasn't the intended goal

acts non chalant instead of telling you how head over heels he is

♡─

harry potter

♡─

harry is CURIOUS and no one can tell me otherwise

you're the one that has to tell him it's ok to touch you and he goes all out once you do

wants to do everything, touch you everywhere

actually wouldn't be able to get over you or shift his focus from pleasing you

"these are so pretty", "i love this", "say my name again", etc.

you probably have to pull him away at some point if you want to actually touch him ─ or fuck

absolutely shook when do you touch him

tries to stay quiet until you tell him you wanna hear him

then he won't shut up with the babbling and the praises

wants a second round as soon as you finish

♡─

ron weasley

♡─

thanks to hbp, we know how inexperienced ron is

so don't expect him to get actually kinky the first time

sure, he wants to go all out with you but he's actually really gentle

accidentally tries something in the moment (like choking, degrading, basically any kink) and apologises

then can't believe the experience actually gets better when you roll with said kink (and enjoy it)

slows and asks if you're ok the whole time

and every time you say yes, he gets really encouraged

doesn't even want to pull away when you're done ─ basically never wants to take his hands off of you again

heavy breathing and huge grinning right on your skin when you're done

having a snack together after because it's cute and he's all worn out so

♡─

ginny weasley

♡─

effortlessly sexy

honestly gets you going without even knowing it (you're done for when she actually tries)

she's really casual but sweet

definitely confident

puts her hair in a ponytail so you can see her face but still grab her hair

can't stay serious for shit ─ she's so happy and makes sure you know it

absolutely teases you if you stare at her

"its like this is the first time you've seen me naked!"

voices how turned on she is and how hot she finds you

forces herself to keep her eyes open because she wants to see you come undone

gets as many orgasms out of you as she can

sits on your lap and plants all these little kisses on your face when you're finished

♡─

pansy parkinson

♡─

"y/n and i are going to fuck, you should all be jealous" "oh my gods pansy,"

only a little nervous ─ she's more excited than anything

starts to confidently tells you about her daydreams, fantasies, and wet dreams but ends up blushing really hard

gets to work immediately

assumes she's topping but is actually willing to let you if you'd like

cocky, teasing, and sweet the whole time

goes for dirty names right off the bat

doesn't miss a beat when you cum, "baby 'm gonna take you against the wall now"

keeps going even after she gets tired

finally stops once you're both mindblown and unable to walk

falls asleep naked with you, head in your hair, mumbling about how she has the best s/o

♡─

fred weasley

♡─

will pick you up/drag you/etc. to wherever you're doing this

excited as fuck but wants a safeword first and foremost

probably makes it something really stupid

you can barely get anything other than moans out once he starts touching you

gives you kisses, talks dirty, fucks you as hard as he can... he goes all out

just to make your first time the best you've ever had

focuses on giving unless you want more

softer during the second round but way kinkier ─ the boy likes trouble more than work but he's still a quick learner

slow, tired makeout when you're both worn out and him spooning you

♡─

george weasley

♡─

also really excited

has already figured out your kinks at this point through conversation cues and imagined making you cum with all of them

won't stop kissing you, saying stuff like, "ready to cum for me baby?"

SWOONING banter, "so long as you fill me up love"

confident + teasing about it

"fuck, how did you know i like that?" "a weasley is always prepared y/n," "didn't you forget to wear shoes to class last week?"

absolute gentleman

makes sure everything's ok with you

knows how to get you hot and bothered without being too rough

grunted i love yous

pulls out of you once you're all fucked out but keeps you close so he can give your forehead wet, praising kisses

♡─

luna lovegood

♡─

so ready to do this

tells you really non-chalantly how bad she wants you

also a queen of foreplay

undresses you so carefully and slowly, telling you how gorgeous you are

long kisses

open about her kinks, asks straight up what yours are

locking fingers while you fuck and agreeing to only let go if one of you wants to stop

spoiler, your hands may as well be fused together by the end of the night

coaxes you through her moans and checks on you

even though she knows ─ and trust me, she KNOWS ─ you're having the time of your life

wants you to lay on your back after you cum and plays with your hair + swirls her fingers on your skin from her comfy lil seat on your waist

♡─

cho chang

♡─

sweet over sexy first time

nervous at first that someone's going to walk in but once she starts touching you, the whole world disappears

lots of blushing and giggling

nothing too serious ─ your legs are tangled and you're just heart eyed

plants kisses all over you the whole time

actually loses herself with you

like eyes scrunched shut and looking like an angel

if she didn't want to see you all pretty and moaning so bad, she'd probably keep her eyes closed and just be happy with how good you feel

whispers the cutest but dirtiest shit

so smiley when you cum

gets pouty if you pull away or stand up after

wants to cuddle, skin to skin, and keep giving you kisses

♡─

fleur delacour

♡─

wants it to be perfect

wears the prettiest lingerie she owns

sets a romantic scene

physically and verbally

trust me when i say this girl is a romantic goddess when it comes to words

pulls out the french and tells you how beautiful she thinks you are

magic touch ─ her fingers are stroking and caressing you during everything and it feels magical

during this first time, actions > words

barely says anything

other than moaning your name

quietly praises you under her breath but says it louder if you tell her to

just really sensual and passionate

holds you in her arms and kisses all over your neck and shoulders when you finish

♡─

nymphadora tonks

♡─

"love, are you sure you want to do this together?"

the second she has your full comfort and consent?

she goes wild

fucks you a thousand different ways but is being so sweet with her words

respectful yet dirty, complimenting in the sexiest tone you've ever heard

wouldn't want to do anything too kinky the first time

only because she wants to leave you wanting more

(as if you won't already ─)

definitely loses control of her hair colour in the moment

it just feels so good that she can't help but go bright and vibrant

all bubbly and talkative when you finish + gets herself together and changes her hair back to your favourite colour

♡─

bellatrix lestrange

♡─

lays out all her kinks that first time

goes absolutely wild in bed

covers you in sloppy kisses and hickeys

moans shit like, "i have been thinking about this since the moment i laid eyes on you,"

loud the whole time

possessive pet names

my doll, my love, my pretty little thing

melts the first time your hands are in her hair

(whether they're pulling at it or running through it)

won't say anything about it but looks for cues that you're comfortable and enjoying it as much as she is

doesn't stop until you're completely worn out

lays on your chest when you're done

and falls asleep mumbling praises

♡─

narcissa black

♡─

tease

wants to stretch out your desire before you do anything for as long as she can

long kisses, hooked fingers, etc.

and when she does fuck you?

respectful queen, looks at you for consent before trying anything

stays serious but if you let out a little giggle, she indulges it because she's just as excited to finally be doing this with you

knows what she wants and expects it

she doesn't stop coming up to kiss you

tells you how good you're doing the whole time

makes you cum as many times as she possibly can before finally letting go

doesn't let go when you're done ─ she wants to stay close to you, hot breaths and juices mixing while she kisses the top of your head

─────

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thepremedthatwrites · 4 years ago

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Stranded

request: Finally putting a request in lol! I got this idea from this tv I watched. So can I request Peter and his siblings are in a plane which crashes on a deserted island with few other people. Peter gets close with this girl and they both secretly do it! But Peter has a gf back home that he wants to break up with and Lucy finds out and shames both Peter and the girl until Peter explains he doesn’t want his gf back home he also angers the girl. But they later get back together and are still on the island.

warning: smut below the cut

The black soon turned to a blinding white causing me to squint. “She’s up! Peter, she’s up!” As my eyes adjusted to the sunlight, I slowly got up only to feel a hand rest on my back to steady me.

“Be careful,” a voice said. The voice sounded like what a warm cup of hot chocolate felt like. It was smooth, warming my body from the harsh wind. I looked around to see a blond boy at my side, his face etched with concern. A young girl was at my other side, her hair pulled back in a ponytail and her wide eyes studying me. The boy spoke again, my mind comprehending his British accent this time. “Do you know your name?”

“(Y/n),” I said, only half interested in the conversation. My eyes wandered past the two people by my side to see pieces of metal scattered around the beach.

“I’m Peter,” he said slowly as if talking to a child. “The airplane we were on had crashed onto an island. Are you hurt? Can you walk?”

“I think so.” I slowly got to my feet, Peter helping to keep me steady. “Where is everyone else?” The two stayed silent for a moment. The girl looked to the ground as if avoiding eye contact with me.

“Not many people made it,” Peter said as we approached a small group of people. There were two more people around my age, a boy and a girl. Also in the group seemed to be a family consisting of a mom, dad, and little girl. An elderly couple stood next to them. The girl locked eyes with Peter before turning her gaze to me, a small smile forming on her lips.

“I was worried you were going to sleep forever,” the girl said as she met us halfway. “I’m Susan, Peter’s sister.”

“And I’m Edmund, their brother,” the boy who had been with the crowd said. I slightly jumped, having not noticed the boy making his way towards us.

“And I’m Lucy,” the girl who had been with me when I had awoken said. “I’m the youngest.”

“Is that all that survived?” I asked, my voice low as I gestured to the small group of people who had started to make conversation with each other.

“I’m afraid so,” Susan frowned. “Here, let me introduce you to them.”

The next few days, I helped set up a camp. Peter, Susan, Edmund, and Lucy had found themselves in leadership over the rest of us. It was a peculiar thing to watch. Even the adults found themselves following what they said, nobody daring to question their authority. An aura seemed to surround them as if they had been Kings and Queens of a prosperous nation once in their lifetimes.

“(Y/n), could you help me?” Peter called out. I turned to see he was carrying stacks of wood. I rushed over to him, quickly taking a few logs from his arms. “Thanks.”

“You do realize you can make more than one trip, right?” He chuckled.

“But then I wouldn’t be able to show off my strength.”

“You mean the same strength that required my help?”

“Ouch,” he replied, causing both of us to laugh. I set the wood down next to Susan who had already started to make a fire. As Peter and I stood next to each other, our fingers brushed. I couldn’t help but feel my face warm at the contact causing me to turn away to hide it. Surely someone as handsome as Peter had a girl back home waiting for him.

“Thanks,” Susan said as she grabbed some of the wood to feed the fire that had started to grow. “Edmund and Alex should be back from their hunt soon. And then we can eat.”

The dinner that night was wonderful. Edmund and Alex had gotten lucky hunting and we ended up having a surplus amount of food for the night. As people started to trickle into their small shelters we had made, sleep starting to pull at their eyelids after the large feast we had enjoyed, I stayed behind. I fell onto my back in the soft sand, looking up at the glimmering stars above.

“The night sky is quite beautiful, isn’t it,” a voice said. I started, raising my head to see who had spoken. My body relaxed as my eyes fell upon Peter. “May I join?” I nodded and he sat next to me. We sat in comfortable silence, Peter looking out at the sea. I tried to join him in watching the sea but my eyes couldn’t help wandering to the boy sitting next to me on the beach.

“Do you think we’ll be found?” he asked, turning to look at me. I would have been embarrassed for being caught watching him if the look in his eyes hadn’t surprised me. Written into his blue irises was pure, unadulterated fear.

“I don’t know,” I answered honestly.

“I promised mother that I would keep them safe,” Peter said softly, looking down at the sand between us. “What if I fail?”

“You won’t,” I said, the sureness in my voice surprising even me. “You have done an amazing job taking care of everyone here. Don’t be too hard on yourself.”

“Thank you.” I inhaled sharply as Peter took my hands in his. “That means everything to me.” He pulled my hands towards his mouth before gently pressing his lips to my knuckles. He looked up at me momentarily, the light of the moon illuminating half of his face and leaving the other half in the shadows. He slowly let go of my hands before starting to get up. “Good night (y/n). I shall see you tomorrow.” I watched in awe as he turned around and made his way back to his makeshift tent.

I fell backward into the sand, my eyes studying the millions of stars above me. Not only did he look like a prince, but he acted like one too. And as I fell asleep, with the sound of the ocean’s waves crashing into the shore, I imagined Peter and I dancing together. Me a princess and him a prince.

The next day, I couldn’t help but notice Peter continually watching me. As I played with Lucy and the little girl Mary, I could feel his eyes on my back. As I helped Susan cook breakfast, my face burned as Peter stood just out of view, talking to his brother but watching me. It wasn’t until noon when he finally addressed me. “(Y/n), would you follow me? I would like to show you something.”

“Of course,” I replied, hoping the excitement in my voice wasn’t too noticeable. He smiled before grabbing my hand and leading me into the thick woods. We were almost running as he dragged me through foliage and under trees until we reached a clearing. He looked back at me, the smile on his face still there, before pulling me forward. I gasped at the sight before me. The roar of a waterfall could be heard, the water spraying my face. The waterfall emptied into a small lake, the water crystal clear. It was absolutely gorgeous.

“This isn’t even the best part,” Peter said. Before I could ask what he meant, he jumped into the lake causing me to shriek as he splashed me with water.

“Peter!” I exclaimed causing him to laugh.

“Come on in (y/n)!”

“I don’t know if I should trust you.”

“Of course you should trust me.” He swam to the edge of the lake, outstretching his arms. I crept closer to the edge, allowing him to wrap his arms around my waist before pulling me in. I gasped as the cold water wrapped around me. “Don’t worry, we won’t be in here for long.” I gave him a questioning look leading him to start to swim away. I followed until we were at the waterfall. He started to swim around it and I followed. A small cave was revealed to be sitting behind the waterfall. I watched as Peter pulled himself up before turning around to help me.

“All of that just to get into a cave?” I questioned, my wet clothes sticking to my body. The only thing that swim was worth was to see Peter’s full form, his clothes sticking to his body just as mine was, leaving very little to the imagination.

“Kiss me,” Peter said. Although the words were demanding, his voice was soft. I stood frozen for a moment, unsure of how to react. I shook off the shock before stepping closer to him and kissing him. His warm lips felt nice after being surrounded by the cold water. Peter’s hands desperately clung to my body, tracing my curves. I allowed my hands to wander his body as well, feeling his chest before discovering his shoulders and then finally making a home around his neck.

He pulled away before allowing his lips to discover more of me. I let my head roll back as he kissed down my neck. I had dreamt of this for so long and now that it was finally happening I felt as if I were in a daze. “Peter,” I quietly moaned as his lips traveled lower. He had now lowered himself to his knees, his face level with my clothed sex and his arms wrapped around my hips.

“Let me worship you, my Queen,” he said, looking up at me. My heart raced at his words and I frantically nodded.

“Yes,” I gasped, struggling to speak as Peter tore off my pants, my underwear soon following. He pushed my legs apart, his mouth almost immediately finding my clit. My head fell back, bumping into the stone cave wall. His hands gripped either thigh as his tongue swirled around the sensitive bud. “Peter,” I moaned, unable to say anything else. My hands ran through his hair, his eyes watching my every movement. His tongue had started to add more pressure and I could feel the pleasure growing.

I moaned his name over and over as I felt myself come undone, my back arched as Peter’s tongue wrote the spell needed to make me finish. My knees buckled, Peter’s hands now the only thing keeping me up as I let out one last moan. He slowed down his motions before stopping altogether. He pulled away, gently letting go of my legs which felt like jelly after the intense orgasm.

He got up, almost immediately meeting my lips with his. I could taste myself on him causing me to let out a low moan at the reminder of the sinful act that had just been committed. My hands traveled to his pants, frantically unbuttoning them. Peter assisted me and soon, I could feel his hard cock pressed against my thigh.

“Jump,” he commanded. I obeyed, Peter catching me and wrapping my legs around his waist. His lips played with my neck, the cave wall scratching my back as one of his fingers toyed with my sensitive clit. “Ready?” I nodded, not trusting my words. I let out a gasp as he pushed into me. I heard him let out a low groan, his face buried into my neck. His hands were holding me up as he started to move.

We weren’t worried about keeping quiet, both because we were deep in the words and because the roaring waterfall would drown out any noise we made. My body moved up and down with his thrusts, though I knew it would be moving even more if it weren’t for Peter’s hands holding me in place. Each thrust Peter made was strong and consistent, making me a moaning mess. We messily kissed each other, desperate to be connected in every possible way. I experimentally squeezed around him causing him to moan loudly.

“Fuck (y/n),” he gasped.

“Pete, I’m so close,” I moaned, my head leaning against the wall as Peter’s face rested in the crook of my neck, placing butterfly kisses on the exposed skin. My moans jumped an octave as I felt the first wave of pleasure crash over me. My entire body shook and at that moment, I was very grateful for Peter’s arms holding me up.

I didn’t have much time to relish in my orgasm as Peter let me down onto the ground. I immediately knew what to do, as if we had done this before. I took him in my mouth, my hand stroking what my mouth couldn’t reach. His moans had become louder, his hands pushing me to take as much as I could while he chased his orgasm. Soon enough, I felt his cum shoot down my throat. I swallowed the bitter liquid as Peter’s moans softened.

I pulled away, wiping off the saliva that had started to dribble down my chin. I stood up only to be immediately pulled into Peter’s arms, his lips kissing mine gently. I let out a small sigh as I kissed him back.

Peter and I spent the next few weeks sneaking off to the waterfall at night. While the night was surely filled with lustful kisses and sensual touches, it was also filled with cuddles and conversation Peter told me all about his home and I told him of mine. We would sometimes talk about the future, imagining our lives off of the island.

I awoke to the sound of birds chirping. “Fuck,” I said, shooting up. I turned to Peter whose chest I had been laying on. He was still fast asleep. I shook him awake, causing him to grumble about needing only five more minutes. “Pete, we fell asleep,” I said. His eyes shot open as he rushed to get up. I grabbed his hand as we both rushed from the cave and hoped that everyone was still asleep.

Luck seemed to be against us that day as we saw Lucy sitting on the beach, facing the woods. “Shit,” Peter said under his breath.

“Maybe she didn’t notice we were gone,” I whispered.

“You can stop hiding,” Lucy said loudly. I guess not. We both walked out of the woods like two teenagers caught making love in a car. “Are you going to tell me where you two were?”

“We were just…” I trailed off, trying to think of a lie.

“It’s not what it looks like Lu,” Peter said.

“Really? I’ve seen the way you two have been looking at each other. Not to mention this isn’t the first time I’ve noticed your disappearance.” We both looked at the ground in shame. “I can’t believe you could do this to Emily, Peter.” I curiously turned to Peter.

“Emily? Who’s Emily?” I questioned. Peter looked at me, a look of horror on his face.

“She’s nobody.”

“Is that what you call your girlfriend?” Lucy asked, her arms crossed.

“Lucy, I’ve been wanting to call it off with Emily for weeks.”

“Then why haven’t you?”

“Yeah Peter, why haven’t you?” I asked. I could feel tears starting to form in my eyes.

“(Y/n),” Peter started, his voice soft.

“Don’t talk to me,” I said, my voice breaking. “Please. I just,” I paused, feeling my throat start to get tight. “I need time alone.” I turned away from Peter and Lucy, quickly making my way into the woods. How could I have been so stupid? Of course, Peter had a girlfriend. I was just someone he could fuck around with until we got rescued and then he would leave me for Emily. All those conversations we had about the future were just lies he had told so that he could get into my pants. I felt like a fool as I sunk to the ground, the first of many tears falling down my cheek.

For the next week, I avoided Peter like the plague. In fact, I avoided everyone. Susan seemed concerned at my lack of conversation. I wanted to tell her everything that had happened but I already knew she would be upset with me. I emerged from the greenery of the forest to find myself back at the waterfall. I felt my chest get heavy as I thought of all the times Peter and I had spent here. I sat in front of the lake, staring at the water deep in thought.

“(Y/n)?” I didn’t turn around.

“Go away, Peter.”

“I know I don’t deserve it but please allow me a moment to explain myself. If you don’t find it satisfactory, I won’t ever bother you again.” I quickly wiped the tears that had fallen down my face.

“Fine.” I felt him sit down next to me.

“I’m sorry.”

“Is that all?”

“No.” We sat in silence for a moment. I could feel my breath quicken at the closeness of our bodies. “Emily and I had only been dating for a few months. At first, I thought that we were going to be a perfect match. Only, I was wrong. We apparently had nothing in common. Not a single thing. I was planning on ending things with her once I had gotten off the plane. The only reason I hadn’t ended things sooner was that I was in New York and she was in London. I wanted to do it in person.”

“What we had,” I started.

“Is real. What we have is real (y/n). When I’m with you, all my worries disappear. You remind me that life is supposed to be enjoyable. You remind me of a time where I had been a king.” I turned to him curiously. “When I had something I loved with all my heart and would happily die for her safety. And if I could, I would break up with Emily right here, right now. Unfortunately, I don’t think the island has the best service.” I let out a small chuckle despite my desire to keep an angry face. “I’m sorry (y/n),” he said, his tone now serious. He took my hands in his, just as he had that night on the beach. “Please, give me another chance. I promise I won’t hold any more secrets.”

“Okay,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper. “No more secrets.” He leaned in, our lips meeting for the first time in days. Pure joy flooded my brain, my body thankful for the drug that had been taken from it. He pulled away, his blue eyes looking into mine. “If we’re no longer keeping secrets,” he said, his voice a bit lower than before. “I must tell you something.”

“Of course,” I said, more interested than worried.

“It’s a long tale so you may want to get comfortable. It’s a story of a world dear to my heart. A world called Narnia.”

#peter pevensie #high king peter #King Peter the Magnificent #peter pevensie fanfic #peter pevensie smut #peter pevensie imagine #peter pevensie x reader #peter pevensie preference #peter x reader #narnia #narnia fanfiction #The Chronicles of Narnia #imagine #fanfic #Smut #preference

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lemonlushff-iy · 3 years ago

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What's the dirtiest thing you've written that you never expected to write?

WIP. I'll finish it one day. Warning - it may present as Dub Con at first...but if I ever finish it, you will see that it's actually NOT. But...It feels worth adding this disclaimer regardless.

“Password?”

“Irish car bomb.”

Inuyasha watched as the metal slot slammed shut and the heavy grey door swung open, revealing the dark interior beyond the snake demon guarding the entrance. The air was thick with cigarette smoke, and he could see it swirling in plumes from where he stood on the threshold.

The snake moved to the side, his yellow eyes narrowing when Inuyasha didn’t enter. He didn’t want to go in, but he didn’t have much of a fucking choice, did he? Thanks for that, Miroku and Sesshomaru.

“You coming or what, half breed?”

Not because he wanted to…

“Yeah,” he sighed, running his fingers through his shaggy hair before finally crossing the threshold into hell. It was dingy. Dirty. He was amazed he could smell the tang of sex in the air over all the cigarette smoke, but the further he walked down the barely lit hallway, the more that gave way to other scents.

Sex. Drugs. Alcohol.

It made his skin crawl.

“What am I getting myself into,” he sighed, slowly descending the stairs he found at the end of the hallway until he reached the club itself. Sweaty bodies ground together on the dance floor and lasers flashed down on the gyrating bodies from above, illuminating their flesh as they moved together.

He wasn’t interested in them, however. He was after something else.

His eyes swept over the crowd, and if he were self-conscious enough, he would have felt out of place there. His simple red button-down and jeans made him feel like a boy scout compared to the way the tight and short clothing fit all of these other patrons. If he wanted to blend in and find his adopted brother, he was going to have to change that a little.

He undid the first few buttons of his shirt and rolled up his sleeves, hoping that made him look a bit more like the typical clientele of the joint. No one was bothering him though, so he figured he was on the right path at least.

Inuyasha’s eyes swept the crowd as he looked for the backroom or a VIP area...Anywhere this “gang leader” could be hanging out. He didn’t know much about him. Just that he needed to find “Silver” to work things out. He couldn’t lose Shippo.

The guys were dumb, but they didn’t deserve to be held captive here or forced into this gang.

He spotted something in the back of the club that looked like a VIP section - rope and curtains included. There was a small gathering of women...all dressed in club clothing and looking far too beautiful to be related to this gang as anything more than arm candy...but...He knew they were his destination. If he were looking to find someone named Silver, they just felt like the people to ask.

His ears pinned themselves down to his head as he began to weave his way through the throng of bodies on the dance floor. He felt hands trying to pull him into dancing - palming his chest and upper body as he walked, and he shrugged them off as best he could. He needed to stay focused - he couldn’t afford any distractions. He had come this far, and he wasn’t about to lose his way now.

A flash of silver hair out of the corner of his eye drew his attention to a shirtless waiter wearing a pair of black pants and matching suspenders. A white shirt collar hung around his neck, serving as the base for a black tie, and matching white cuffs stood out against his wrists.

Sesshomaru.

His golden eyes were nervous as he brought the women their drinks, placing it on the table before a woman with black, wavy hair and silver eyes. She wore a short, low cut, silver sequin dress, and a red smile on her face that made his heart skip a beat and his breath catch in his throat.

She was stunning. Mysterious. Sensual. He wanted to bend her over the table and fuck her raw then and there, but he couldn’t. He was on a mission and he couldn’t stray from his task. It was too important to him.

Now that he was closer, he could see the danger in her. The beauty that was nothing more than a front for the many mysteries she held within. He wanted to know what they were. She seemed powerful and not to be trifled with, but he didn’t care. He needed to know everything about her.

Was...he wrong?

Was she Silver?

He swallowed the thought, and his stomach dropped as she reached out and grabbed ahold of his brother’s tie, running her hands up it until she held the base at Sesshomaru’s throat. She gave it a sharp tug, making him fall forward and almost into her lap. He caught himself on the back of her chair, his palms slamming against it with what would have been a loud slap if the music wasn’t blaring overhead.

Inuyasha watched “Silver” smirk and tilt her head up, whispering something to Sesshomaru, and Inuyasha could see his brother’s Adam's apple bob at her words. He nodded his head, murmuring a response before she slid her fingers into his hair and brought his ear to her lips. He couldn’t discern what they were talking about, but it was making his stomach knot. He knew he needed to get to them, and now.

“SESSHOMARU!” He bellowed, cupping his hands around his mouth in an attempt to make his voice carry, but it was just drowned out. He wasn’t going to get their attention this way. He no longer cared about blending in. He shoved his way through the crowd, disgruntled patrons shooting him glares and yelling “hey!” and “Watch it asshole!” as he went until he was standing in front of the VIP area.

“Sesshomaru!” he yelled, and “Silver” broke away from his brother in annoyance, her eyes warming slightly as she took him in. He felt her gaze roam up his body, taking in every inch of him. Weighing him. Judging him. Calculating the situation.

“You know this man, Pet?” she demanded, and Inuyasha knew in that moment that he was right. This was “Silver”, alright.

“I’m his brother,” Inuyasha replied before Sesshomaru could. “I’m here for him, and I’m not leaving without him.”

Silver’s red lips widened into a smile as she reclined in her chair, propping her chin on a relaxed, curled fist.

“Really? The dog has a half breed for a brother?”

Inuyasha did his best to contain his growl, but Silver could still hear it, if the way her smile widened was any indicator.

“Do you know why he’s here, oh brother of his?”

“I do.”

“Then you know that he’s not just walking out of here,” she informed him curtly, her eyes roaming up and down his body again. He noticed that the other women beside her were doing the same, and he noticed for the first time that all of the women there were appraising him. One of the women beside her leaned in to whisper something to Silver, and he watched the long, thick lashes around her eyes lower as she listened.

“Mmmm...Already ahead of you, Kikyo,” he heard her reply, and this response seemed to please Kikyo greatly.

“I don’t care,” Inuyasha replied, trying to ignore the exchange between the women, but it was hard. He had a feeling it was about him, and it made him nervous. “He’s not staying here with you.”

“Sesshomaru has a debt to be paid,” she calmly informed him. “Now, I can’t just...overlook this, nor can I overlook his transgressions...Do you understand what I mean?”

Paid. Money. Alright. He could do this. It would be hard...but he’d figure out something.

“Ok. How much?”

The women around him laughed, and he suddenly got the impression that perhaps it wasn’t monetary.

“What is your name, ‘brother’,” Silver demanded, and he swallowed. She was far too calm for his taste.

He saw Sesshomaru open his mouth, perhaps to reply on his behalf, but a wind demoness with a high ponytail and magenta eyeshadow pulled him down to her seat. He watched his brother situate himself in her lap, allowing her to run her fingers down his suspenders. His chest. His pectorals. She circled his nipples, flicking them and scraping his nails against them, and all the while, Sesshomaru said nothing - allowing her to have her way with his body however she saw fit.

“Inuyasha,” he whispered, unable to remove his eyes from his brother. Sesshomaru wouldn’t meet his gaze. He looked like he actually enjoyed the demoness’s attention, but he wasn’t going to dwell on that now.

“Inuyasha,” Silver purred, her smile widening. “An interesting and yet fitting name,” she commented offhandedly as her eyes flicked to the top of his head, and he found himself looking away from her. He didn’t need or want the reminder right now.

“Parents had a sense of humor, but enough about me. I wanna talk money. What’s it gonna take, Silver?”

“He thinks I’m Silver,” she laughed, her head tilting back as she let out a full-bodied laugh. He didn’t get what was so fucking funny, and frankly, he was starting to get annoyed. “Oh Inuyasha,” she breathed. “I’m not Silver...but your brother is mine. You’re right about that.”

“Yeah? Then who has my brother?” he demanded as she leaned forward to take a glass of red liquid from the table. The movement lowered the neckline of her dress, allowing him to see more of her breasts than he previously could, and he felt his desire for her flare.

“Well. That depends...I’m inclined to release your brother to you, Inuyasha. But, seeing as his debt needs to be paid, what you call me depends on what you’re willing to do to obtain him. Now, there is an easy way and a hard way we can do this,” she informed him, lifting her hand and two other women stood - one with short, shoulder length hair and a sight black dress that clung to every curve of her body. The other wore a black mesh catsuit with solid black cut outs that prevented you from seeing anything, yet told you that she had forgone both a bra and panties that night. Her hair was pulled into a high ponytail that still reached her waist, and pink eyeshadow. They moved to the sides of the VIP area, drawing the curtains around them shut to give them some privacy as they spoke.

It muffled the music significantly, enough that his ears were able to rise up from his skull, but not enough that he could no longer hear it or feel the base in his chest. Or maybe that was just the pounding of his heart he felt. Nerves. It had to be nerves.

“Alright. What’s the easy way?” he pressed, and the women who had just closed the curtain came up behind him, running their hands up and down his chest and back in a way that allowed him to connect the dots even before the woman in silver purred.

“Satisfy my whims and desires for the night, and he’s yours.”

Her eyes were dark. Salacious. Filled with desires that were impossible to mistake.

“Just the night,” he demanded, shifting his eyes away from the silver clad vixen and back to his brother.

“Please me, and yes. Just the night. You’ll take his place and do everything that I ask, and obey me fully and completely. When I say jump, you say…”

He swallowed thickly.

“How high,” he finished, his voice a hoarse whisper.

“Very good...yes…” she approved, and a thousand images of her naked body entwined with his entered his mind at her praise. Images that left his heart racing and his blood heating in want. He could feel his cock twitch in excitement at the thought of bending her over the table and making her his.

“What’s the hard way?” he continued, trying to dispel the thoughts and refocus his attention. It was an obligatory ask, though he knew he had his answer.

“The hard way...Well...Let’s just say that it involves obtaining something not exactly...legally. Are you interested?”

Not particularly. No.

“Easy way it is,” he chuckled nervously, as the woman holding Sesshomaru leaned down to kiss him. At the same moment, one of the women holding Inuyasha slipped her hand inside his shirt, making his breath hitch as she palmed his pectoral muscle.

He hoped he wasn’t making a mistake.

“In that case...You may call me Mistress.”

He swallowed and felt the women on either side of him begin to unbutton his shirt. He could feel their fingers working each button through the holes in the fabric, the warm air of the club kissing his skin as the front of his chest was slowly exposed to Mistress and her friends. Despite the heat in the room, he could still feel his skin pucker and a shiver run through him as the woman with the shorter hair leaned forward and kissed his neck. His shoulder. Slid her fingers across his own nipples. He tried not to panic. This was what he had agreed to, and Mistress seemed to expect the way her friend was touching him.

It almost looked like she welcomed it and took pleasure in it. In watching the little show her friends were putting on.

“How does he taste, Yura?” she asked, and he felt Yura nip his shoulder before soothing the offended flesh with her tongue.

“Delicious. You’re lucky you get this one all to yourself.”

“Later,” Mistress mused as the other woman with the high ponytail pushed his open shirt down his shoulders before her mouth was on him as well. Licking, sucking, palming his flesh...He bit the inside of his cheek to keep himself focused.

“Sango?” Mistress pressed, and her friend reached down to the front of his pants, palming him.

“Very lucky indeed…”

“Sesshomaru,” Mistress, cooed, and Inuyasha watched his brother stand to kneel before her. “Give your brother your clothes,” she demanded, and Inuyasha felt the women’s hands working on his belt.

“Yes, Mistress,” he replied, rising once more and working on removing his own clothing, or lack thereof. He placed each item onto the table before the woman in silver, until he stood before them clad in nothing more than his birthday suit.

Inuyasha closed his eyes as he felt his boxer briefs being pushed down to his ankles, and he fought the urge to cover himself. What was the point? They’d all see him in all his “glory” before the night was over. He held his hands down to his side, clenching and unclenching his fists and watched as Mistress's smile widened as she took him in.

“Sesshomaru, perhaps I should have traded you a long time ago for your brother…”

Sesshomaru’s didn’t respond, nor did he.

He toed off his socks and shoes, not needing to be told to. He knew what was coming next. He didn’t need them to verbalize their demands. He bent down to pick up the cuffs first, knowing the women wanted a show, and Sango tilted her head to the side.

“He has a nice ass,” she commented, slapping it and making him straighten his back abruptly. “Nice and firm.”

“Really,” Kikyo drawled, shifting in her chair. “Do try and contain yourselves. The entertainment hasn’t even begun yet.”

“Mmmm…” Mistress agreed. “But...we have all night, ladies. Sango?” Mistress intoned, tilting her head to the side, and she begrudgingly returned to her seat. “You too,” she continued, narrowing her eyes at Yura and she reluctantly left his side as well.

He took that as his cue to keep dressing, and when he was finished, he stood at attention, waiting for her to tell him to do something.

“Pet...This area is a mess,” Mistress informed him. “Clean it and return...And while you’re there, ask the bartender for ‘Kagome’s Kit’. He will know what you mean.”

“Yes, Mistress,” he ground out picking up all of the empty bottles and glasses. When he slipped out behind the curtain he sighed, trying to wrap his head around what the hell had just happened to him in there.

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waatermelon-sugaar · 4 years ago

Text

Drunk Calling

Pairing = Santiago x reader

Words = 1.7k

Summary = A drunk call to Santi ends the night less than ideal

Warnings = drinking, angsty ending? quite open

A/N = Prompt no.37 requested by @writefightandflightclub as part of my 300 follower celebration, thanks so much, hope you like it! Prompt was “You are too drunk to be speaking right now” w/santi and bolded in text. Also this is not that great, but writers block sucks and I hope you like it Luna!

Masterlist

***

“Santiiiagoooo.” You stretch out his name as you hold onto the bar with one hand, speaking into your phone.

You can’t hear his voice so you pull the phone down, frowning in concentration as the black screen swims in front of you. You definitely called him, that’s his name on your phone.

You put the phone back to your ear, listening carefully, trying to block out the music playing in one corner. It’s still ringing, that’s good.

You can see your friends, a couple of them still dancing, the others smoking, visible through the window as they pretend that they’re not cold in the dark air.

And then you hear him. “Sweetheart?” His voice sounds slow, and muffled, like he’s underwater. “Are you alright?”

You grin. “Santi!” You wish he was here with you. “I wish you were here.”

There’s a mirror behind the bar, and you catch sight of your reflection, hair looser than when you left your house, a slight sheen of sweat on your skin from dancing.

You can’t hear him for a second, and you panic. “Santi?”

There’s a small grunt, and you can hear him moving. You sigh in response, waiting, and propping yourself up on the bar a little better. “Where are you?”

“I-,” you start, making a face at yourself in the mirror, “- am having fun. Where are you?”

You can hear him laugh, and you adjust the phone. “I’m in bed.”

“In bed?” You frown. “In boring land more like.”

“It’s 2am,” He reminds you, laughing. It’s scratchier than his normal laugh, deeper.

“Why do you sound different?”

There’s another pause, and it suddenly occurs to you that maybe 2am is a bad time to call, except you wish Santi were here and this is the next best thing, because really all you want is to give him a hug.

“This is what I sound like when I wake up sweetheart.” He clears his throat, and then his voice comes through, louder and clearer. “I’m in bed, remember?”

“I wish I was with you.”

You can practically hear his raised eyebrow. “Yeah? I thought I was in boring land?”

“Ahh, but it wouldn’t be boring if I was there.”

You register that the top of the bar is sticky so you try and stand a bit more independently.

“Careful, you’re starting to sound a bit like the fun police.” Santi’s voice is dry, and you suddenly can’t tell if he’s joking.

“I’m not the fun police,” you pout at your reflection. “I just… I bring the fun.”

Santi chuckles again, and your heart jumps. “I know-” the rest of his sentence is cut off when two of your friends suddenly appear at your side, whooping and laughing.

“Who are you on the phone too?” Silvia shouts as they wait for the bartender. She’s pulled her hair away from her face, curls now struggling to pull free from a ponytail, as she pulls the skirt of her dress further down her legs.

You twist the phone away so she can’t see, pushing into her side slightly. “Two, no sorry! Three jagerbombs please?” She hands her card over, even as you shake your head.

“I’m not drinking anymore.”

“No!” Silvia whines your name. Pulling on Mikki’s arm, she brings her into the debate. “Tell her she has to drink the jagerbomb, and then tell us who she’s on the phone too!”

Mikki nods, solemn. “You gotta do it.”

You sigh, even as the bartender returns with the three drinks, Silvia’s card, and a receipt.

“Come on, come on, come on.” Silvia’s handing you the shot, and you're holding the drink in your free hand, as the two of them start chanting. “Drink.”

“Drink.”

You roll your eyes, already knowing you’re going to do it. And then, with a fluid movement and a couple of swallows, the three of you are holding empty glasses.

You turn back to your phone, assuming they’re going to dance. “Santi?”

Unfortunately, that means you miss the knowing look they share between them.

“Silvia?” That’s Mikki’s voice.

“Yes Mikki?”

You turn back in mild horror, the phone now halfway to your face.

“How do you call your loverboy?”

“Come ‘ere, lover...boy!” The effect is ruined somewhat by Silvia’s attempt to control her laughter, hand covering her mouth.

“And if he doesn’t answer?” Mikki leans over as she talks, grasping the phone from you and pointing at the screen as she mouths the Santiago? eyes wide in excitement. You suddenly regret telling them about him.

Santi hasn’t hung up, the number under his name increasing steadily.

“Ohh loverboy!” Silvia’s talking dangerously close to your phone now, even as you try and take your phone back.

“And if he still doesn’t answer?”

There’s a glint in Mikki’s eye that you recognise and usually love, although you’re not normally on the receiving end.

“Santiago?” Mikki’s lifted the phone to her ear, and then she’s nodding. “Uh huh.” She looks at you. “Yeah she is.”

Oh no.

You grab Mikki’s wrist, trying to pull the phone away. “Yeah she is, what?” You hiss. “Mikki, yeah she is, what?”

Mikki ignores you, pushing your grabbing hands away. “You’re too drunk to be speaking right now.” She tells you happily, phone still to her ear and you groan, stomping your foot a little in frustration.

“She’s having fun, yeah.”

“Mikki!” You hiss again, unaware that Silvia’s phone is out and she’s recording the two of you.

“Kuckoo, do you know it?”

“Mikki!” You wail, collapsing dramatically onto the bar, grimacing when a coaster sticks to your cheek.

Mikki is still talking to him. “- and then you turn left, and it’s the one with the red light. You should come one day, they’ve got good music.”

You can only watch on in horror as she wraps up the call. “Bye Santiago!”

That’s her flirty voice, why is she using her flirty voice when she knows you li-

No.

She thinks you like him.

“Or should I say, bye Pope?” She asks, twirling a curl around her finger as though she’s stood in front of him.

She hangs up before you have a chance to tell her that he doesn’t like that nickname as a civi, that it’s only for the army, that he prefers Santi, he told you he likes Santi. Instead, you can only take your phone back with a huff.

“Ok, what?” Mikki’s arms are crossed now.

“Don't flirt with him,” you snap, irrationally annoyed. “He’s my friend and I don’t need you two…” you don’t find the words so you make a crude gesture.

“Jealous, much?” Mikki bites back. “If you fancy him, you just let me know, and I’ll step back. If you don’t, then as far as I’m concerned, I can flirt with him.”

You suddenly don’t know what’s happening to your stomach, something ugly roiling inside you. “But I wasn’t flirting,” Mikki continues, annoyed. “Look all he wanted to talk about was you and he’ll be here in a bit to take you home, ok?”

You don’t say anything, stunned. “Call me tomorrow when you’re sober, let’s have brunch or something?”

You nod, confused, but glad Mikki doesn’t seem to be holding a grudge, as she and Silvia make their way back to the dance floor.

10 minutes later, you’re waiting outside, shivering in the cold, admiring the stars, when Santi pulls up in his truck, window down, hat on.

When you climb in, he rolls the window up. The heater is on and you give another shiver, this time in delight.

And then, before you can stop yourself, you’re taking his hat, jamming it onto your head and admiring yourself in the mirror. Santi’s smiling, but he’s not looking at you. Good. You don’t think you could handle it if he smiled at you right now.

Neither of you talk, not even when you start fiddling with the radio, clumsy fingers pressing buttons until you find a song you like, humming under your breath as you twist the hat in your hands, suddenly nervous.

You don’t like Santi.

Do you?

No. You’re drunk, and gullible, and Mikki’s in your head.

Except he smells so good.

All the time. And he gives such good hugs. And he’s your best friend, your go to for… nearly everything.

You know you love him. That doesn’t mean you’re in love with him.

Does it?

You don’t realise at first when he’s parked outside your building, your swirling thoughts taking up your concentration until Santi turns the engine off. The sudden silence makes you stop, when Santi touches your leg.

“We’re here.”

It’s the first words he’s spoken to you in person, and suddenly, you’re tongue tied.

But he helps you in, pouring you a glass of water while you change, placing some paracetamol on your bedside table as you wipe your makeup off.

All in all, you manage, uttering small sentences as Santi tucks you into bed. And then he’s about to go when-

“I’m sorry for when my friends were on the phone.”

Santi turns to you, his figure shrouded in darkness, hat back on his head. He doesn’t say anything, and so you continue. “They, just… they think you’re good-looking or, I dunno, that I have a crush on you, and I just, I’m sorry, if that made you uncomfortable, or-“

Tears are beginning to pool in your eyes and you can’t be bothered to stop them, a deep sadness welling up in you, except you don’t know why. “-you’re just a really good friend to me Santi, and they know that and I do like you, but how can I tell you that-“

You sniff, and Santi moves towards you as your words slur together slightly. “-it’s not something you can tell your friend is it, I like what we have, I do, and I don’t want to ruin it.”

The bed dips and Santi’s there, pulling you into a hug as you sob into his shoulder. “You’re so nice Santiago.”

His arms are around your back. “You’ve always got me, and you make me laugh.” He just squeezes you tighter and you feel safe.

“Santi I think I-“

“You’re drunk.” He’s pulled back, and he’s not looking at you anymore. “You need to go to sleep.”

Weren’t you just crying into his shoulder? That man’s suddenly gone, and instead Santi’s twisting his hat in one hand, reaching up the other to mess with his curls as he stands.

“I don’t want you to say something you’re gonna regret.” You only dimly register the words, lying back onto your pillow, turning away from him.

Your sleep is fractured and teary, and when you wake, you can’t remember your dreams.

***

Thanks for reading! Reblogs and comments mean the world to me 🥰🥰🥰

Tags: @fantasticcopeaglepasta

Send an ask to be tagged!

#Santiago x reader #Santiago Garcia x reader #Santiago pope x reader #Santiago pope Garcia x reader #pope x reader #Santiago garcia #Santiago pope #Santiago pope garcia #triple frontier #fanfic

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horrorslashergirl · 4 years ago

Note

I really love your writing and I'm really happy that requests are open again!! 😭 Could you maybe write a part 2 to Strip Yourself (Hacker x reader fic) where the hacker and reader somehow meet again (like maybe the reader surprisingly tracks him down) and get together? Thank you!!

The Hacker x Reader- Strip Yourself Part 2

Part 1 HERE

Drinks were being passed on tables along with the money that flew on the stage by high heeled shoes, the girls dancing and twirling on the poles, music blasting accompanied by neon lights, creating the perfect nightlife atmosphere.

Night in New York never changed and neither did the masked man's life as he leaned on the bar, observing a brunette dressed in leopard lingerie. The Hacker bite his lower lip behind the mask as he ogled the woman, she had nice assets and eyes that he would love to see roll inside her head; by sex or murder, he could care less.

It was another Friday night, spending money on drinks and women because the next day he will get the cashback. Tonight he just finished another deal with a pretentious prick who wanted certain films.

The sick freak had some weird fetishes, but who was the Hacker to judge, after all, he wasn't any better.

"I see you looking at her. Gonna taker her in the back later?" the bartender, who the Hacker got pretty aquatinted with spoke with a chuckle.

"Maybe." The Hacker hummed, swirling the liquor in his glass.

He debated if he should just take her for a quick blowjob, when a happy cheer caught his attention, gaze moving from where the sound came. It was one of the veteran strippers, Vivian and she was hugging someone.

When she pulled away, grey eyes widened behind the blue neon lightened mask, gulping down as he took in your form.

It's been what? One year?

He had to admit you changed, but in a good way, hair and clothes are all nicely done and clean put together like a doll in his opinion. The bartender noticed the Hacker stare and nudged his shoulder.

"I never pictured you the type to go for business woman." the male snickered, but the Hacker didn't mind him that much, because all his attention was to you.

It's been a year since you left, quit the job as a stripper, and crawled your way up to be a respectable female in society, although you didn't saw yourself as some prize, never one to judge someone, because you knew what it meant to swallow your pride to get to where you were now.

Vivian felt like someone was starring at you two, so she turned around seeing the masked male, then moved her gaze back to you.

"You wanna talk to him?" she asked in your ear and you swallowed down.

You decided to visit Vivian since you two haven't talked for a long time, but you never pictured that you would meet him, after one year. The man who helped you the most.

"I kind of want to." you muttered, a little nervous, but you weren't going to act like you didn't notice him.

You weren't a coward and since you worked into the financial business you learned that cowardice is seen as a prime weakness and if the sharks in black suits notice, you will be most likely eaten alive.

So, take a deep breath you walked with her to the bar, ordering yourself a drink, while Vivian began to chat with the bartender.

"Hey." you finally said, your eyes looking at the Hacker, who has his mask turned to you.

"Hey, doll."

His voice was bitter like definitely not excited to see you after you left without a word or goodbye.

"Back again?" he broke the silence.

"More like visiting. I worked here almost all my life in college." you answered, taking a sip of your drink as it arrived.

"I know."

Of course, he knew, he was your top client, always tipping you the most, buying you gifts and attentions, showering you in compliments, and the only one who got privates shows with finalization, not that you were proud of it.

"I see you wormed yourself up on the scale in society. I guess all the hard work in college paid well." he spoke again, his tone arrogant and aggressive like.

"You want to talk about this now?" you spoke with confidence, not letting him get to you.

"What's the point? You left one year ago without a word, doll." he shot back, making you feel like you were the culprit here.

"You act like we were together. I told you from the beginning that when college is over so is this place." you clarified him, brows pushed into a frown.

He snorted behind the mask, then got up, walking away from you and towards the back door of the club where the alleyway was.

Before you would have let it go, forget about it, but you ended up being someone who wasn't going to take silence and walking away as an answer. You got up from the barstool and stalked after the male, getting out and catching his wrists before he could take another step.

"Will you stop acting so childish?" you snarked, making him stop.

"I am? Look who's talking. At last, you could have to say goodbye!" he shot back, tugging his wrist away, taking a step towards you, making you take one back.

Silence.

You had no comeback to that. Indeed, you had left, disappearing like a ghost, not even bothering to leave a message.

"That's what I thought. You know....You are no different from the sluts inside. You just have more clothes on, but you are all the same. Choking on my cock." he said in a calm and deadly voice, you could hear the smirk in his tone.

"I-I...Never..." you shuttered over your words, blushing at what he said.

"You never what?" he asked, backing you into the wall of an alleyway.

His masked face inched closer, the plastic brushing against your cheek and ear.

"Do I need to remind you of everything? That time you sucked my cock? When I fingered you? When I pounded you from behind like bitch? Each time I made you squirt?"

He was humiliating you, reminding you that you were no prude, you couldn't stick your nose in the air, because you were no better.

"It was the past." your replied, making him chuckle in amusement.

"That's your comeback?" he asked, grey eyes moving from your wide eyes and trembling lips down to your neck, noticing something underneath the white button-up blouse.

Gloved fingers moved to unbutton the first ones at the collar and you were ready to push him away, but his other hand pushed your shoulder roughly back against the wall.

"Don't fucking move." he snarled into your ear, now that your cleavage was exposed his eyes ranked over the pink diamond.

He recognized it, the one he gave you during your times together and he snickered, making you gulp down.

"You couldn't forget about me, huh....Dollface." he whispered, gloved hands moving over your collarbone.

"T-That's not-" you were interrupted by a finger on your lips.

"I'm not stupid. Can I ask you something and be honest with me, because I hate liars. How many men made you squirt?"

You wanted so badly to punch him in the mask, crack that plastic. He was so obscene and how dare he ask something like that.

"Come on. Answer." he growled into your ear.

You were so ready to throw a fist, but you were cut off as a hand grasped the waistband of your panties underneath the black skirt, tugging the cotton material up between your pussy-lips.

A squeak left your lips, a deep blush crossing your cheeks as you looked up at him.

"Heh...That's what I thought." he snorted, then just like that he left, leaving you to slump down against the brick wall behind you, the sound of the engine of his car could be heard in the distance.

------------------------------

"You should forget about him, girl." Vivian said, the two of you having coffee and breakfast.

You twirled the spoon into your cold coffee, looking lost in your thoughts.

"Are you even listening to me?!" Vivian said with an exasperated face, making you look up at her lazily.

"Yeah..." your reply was as empty as you looked.

"You can literally have any man you want and you are mourning over a hooligan....a criminal must I remind you?" your friend said, but her words went deaf for you.

"Don't tell me that you haven't been with anyone since him...." she assumed with an unbelievable look in her eyes.

"Oh God, [Name]...." she rubbed the bridge of her nose.

----------------------------

After one month, things didn't get better for you, hearing from Vivian how many gets the Hacker got in a year, and even after the incident in the alleyway he wasn't any subtle, coming to the strip-club as nothing happened.

One time you were there and seeing him with a redhead going into the back, you had a pretty good idea what happened, especially when the girl came out with money in her panties.

He had no shame!

Vivian told you like a mother would: 'Told you.'

She suggested that you should let it go and enjoy yourself, don't let someone get you down. That's how she managed to get you into a black cocktail-dress that reminded you of your types working as a stripper, black and silver heels, make-up done perfectly, and your usual ponytail hair now in wild curls.

Tonight, Vivian was off work, but you were hanging out at the club, full of people drinking and dancing. You were having a good time, joking with Vivian and some of the other girls, men coming and leaving to talk with you.

"Girl. Look at that piece of cake." Vivian whispered into your ear, pointing to a man who was giving you a look-over, his eyes ranking over your body and lips pulled into a cheeky smile.

You had to admit he was good-looking and just like the stars were aligned, he moved off the red couch and waltzed to you.

"Hey, sweetcheeks. Couldn't help but saw you looking at me. Care to dance?" well he sure was bold and you smiled.

Why not?

Taking his hand you two walked to the dancefloor, Vivian giving you thumbs up. A new song started and you began to move along, hips swaying to the beat, back turned towards him, his hands running up and down your waist.

"You look absolutely delectable." the man whispered into your ear, making you giggle.

Although you were having a good time, someone across the room wasn't on the same page, because the glass of vodka he was holding cracked lightly a little as he squeezed around it.

The Hacker was fuming behind the mask at the scenario and if he had a gun at him he would have shot the asshole who was holding you, brain splattering onto the dancefloor.

He should be there dancing with you, grinding against your body and making you giggle like a school-girl.

The last straw was when the jerks hand moved to brush his fingers onto the pink necklace that HE gave you, said jerk-fingers brushing against your breast.

That's when the bomb exploded because he took big steps towards the two of you, gloved hand grasping your wrist and tugging you away from the man's embrace. You were ready to give a piece of your mind to whoever it was, but a scream of pain torn through the music and a satisfying crack resounded.

The Hacker punched the man straight in the nose, breaking it, but the guy had to fight and just as that hell broke loose, glasses been thrown, chairs flying by and people fighting.

You were moving along the bodies fighting, going for the exit. The cold air of the night hit your sweaty face. Eyes wide open you couldn't believe what happened. Vivian came after you, making sure you weren't injured.

After one hour everything calmed down, but the mess was irremediable. You were leaning against Vivian's car when a masked face caught your attention.

Normally you would have gone and given him a piece of your mind, about how stupid he can be, but his dislocated shoulder, blood-covered clothes, and the cracked mask made you pity him.

You took a step towards him, but Vivian stopped you.

"I will be fine. You go home." you told her, making her sigh, telling you to be careful.

You walked towards him with your arms crossed, observing him.

"Give me your car keys." you told him, snatching the keys out of his pocket and helping him move towards his car.

He didn't say anything as you got him into the passager seat and you into the driver one. The ride towards your house was quiet, no comments have been exchanged. Getting in, you laid him on the couch and got a first-aid kit.

"Get your hoodie off." you told him and he chuckled dryly.

"So straight-forward, doll." he joked, making you roll your eyes, but alas you helped him get the piece of clothing off, noticing the bruises forming. You managed to put his shoulder back into place, with a deep groan of pain from him.

You noticed blood coming from underneath his mask and you grasped to pull it off, but he stopped you.

"You're hurt and bleeding." you told him and he sighed, leaving your wrists.

You didn't expect him to look so....Devilish like? Maybe a bit too young for his age. You could swear that if he didn't have the stubble on he would look like in his middle 20s.

"Like what ya see, sugar?" He asked with a smug smirk, his busted lip bleeding more, but you stopped him, whipping it away.

"You are an idiot, you know? What were you thinking?" you asked with a glare, still continuing to patch him up.

"That scumbag was touching you." he whispered, grey eyes looking at you with a slight glare.

"It was consensual. Don't tell me you're jealous....God....We are not together." you explained, exasperated.

"I don't like it when people touch what's mine." he responded, making your heart flutter a little.

"You heard me, doll.....Don't tell me the feelings aren't the same." he spoke with a bitter voice, coughing a little.

Yup, his ribs were bruised.

"Erron....I-I do care about you. I cannot lie, I mean you helped me through the bad for almost 3 years and I never once thanked you." you admitted, your eyes moving from his torso, noticing for the first time the dragon tattoo on one of his peeks, meeting his grey eyes.

He smiled a real genuine smile.

"Then why do we act like we're enemies because I sure don't see you that way." he whispered, his bruised lips inching closer to yours until they slightly touched.

He hissed at the pain, hating that he couldn't kiss you deeply, taking your breath away.

"You're hurt." you said, pulling away.

"Hey...I've been stabbed and shot in the past and still could get a hard-on after." he augmented with a smirk.

You chuckled and rolled your eyes.

"You're so despicable." you said with a smirk.

"That's why you love me." he winked, groaning at how sore his muscles were.

"Rest now. You look like shit....I'm gonna make you something to eat." you told him, walking to the kitchen.

"Well, aren't you the sweetest, [Name]? I didn't know we were married."

"I hate you!" you yelled from the kitchen and he laughed.

"Love ya too, sugar!"

#The Hacker #The Hacker x Reader #slasher x reader #slasher oc #Original Character #cyber killer #Cyber Killer x Reader #erron #erron x reader #error 666

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unholyplumpprincess · 4 years ago

Text

Clever Little Fox

For @hurtled-into-chaos-you-fight featuring his beautiful Bloodhound design that you can see on his pinned post! I have also written them in here for those who do better with Written descriptions! LOVE U BITCH

Summary: Mirage decides today is the day he will decide to get one on over Hound. He's always been their prey in the arena, but it wouldn't hurt to switch it up, right? Lure them in only to humiliate them in front of aaalll the cameras? Shouldn't hurt anything, right? Not like he's expecting to get punished or anything. Haha...ha....

Reblogs > Likes. Must have your age (18+ only) in your bio before interaction or you will be blocked.

Fandom: Apex Legends

Relationship: Mirage/Bloodhound

Warnings: R18+/NSFT, Bloodhound has a penis, Mirage has a vulva, gender fluid Mirage who goes by she/her and Ellie/Elliott, both have body mods, Bloodhound is briefly called Daddy as a title but NOT a daddy kink, biting, denial + overstimulation, aaaand Elliott in a cute collar and being called prey!

Words: 8.7k

_________

King’s Canyon had felt almost eerie with its adjustments these last seasons.

Bloodhound missed the Leviathans’ calls, their large feet stomping down creating craters across the lands and sweeping the area free of any greedy or bold enemy teams. More adjustments being made reminded them of the sight of their own home planet, being mangled now by Hammond. It could bring painful memories if they thought too hard about it.

Thankfully, with the coming season, Bloodhound had been able to focus more on the games. Namely because just a few seasons ago, they’d gotten into a relationship. Elliott had finally, bravely come up to them instead of looking from afar, his tongue tripping himself up as he rubbed the back of his head and said, “Would you maybe like to go to the afterparty? With uh- with me, I mean. Like. You know. Like we go together? Like as a...as a couple- or er, duo? You know? Two pals in a pod- er, peas? Peas in a pod.” While doing that little pretend two punch towards them with his face burning and clearly losing the bravery he must have built on the way over to them.

Cute.

Bloodhound couldn’t help but smile, towering over him by a good head as they peer down at him through their dark goggles. “I would love to accompany you.” To which Elliott’s beautiful hazel eyes had lit up, a bright smile crossing his face and dimples creasing his cheeks. It had been worth it alone just to agree to go to see him so delighted, but then along the way, they’d grown close.

~Rest under the cut~

Accompanying him to afterparties soon became accompanying him elsewhere. To get coffee, to just sitting in the lounge area to bring Elliott company. Sometimes, Bloodhound found that they’d fall asleep quite often with him, their head nodding off in the blissful quiet only to awaken frightened and confused at first. Elliott, who’d quickly gotten used to that, would always gently tell them that they were alright. Reminding them where they were and how they got there until the hunter had settled.

Bloodhound’s narcolepsy was...odd. In order to be triggered, they had to be completely calm- rather than when it would normally happen for others when a huge overwhelming emotion passed. It seemed to happen when they were at their calmest, happening more and more frequent the longer they were around Elliott. To the point that eventually Elliott had slyly offered his room instead so they could lie down ‘just in case’.

Ellie had been the one to make the first move for a kiss, and for that Bloodhound is eternally grateful. They had been longing to, going so far as to cup her cheek and smooth their thumb over her lower lip and hearing her breath hitch- but never proceeding. But one day, on a date where they were in the woods on a picnic (Ellie’s idea, Bloodhound had to stop from grinning at how sweet it was), she’d leaned over. Gently cupping their cheek and asking permission quietly, Bloodhound hadn’t trusted their voice so they had nodded, and then her glossy maroon lips had pressed to theirs. So softly, so gently that they thought they would lose their breath.

Bloodhound had ended up with their lips and cheeks covered in her makeup, dizzy and hungry all the same. Watching her clean up around her mouth and reapply the lip gloss had been a sin in itself. A divine temptation.

She was, in herself, a divine temptation. And together, they both looked so different next to each other- a small thing that brought Bloodhound joy. And even then, they were clearly an attractive couple.

Bloodhound stood at 6’4”, built broad and fit with a body looking almost to be carved from the gods- something they were particularly proud of. Their skin is a deep, warm olive tone, discolored from dark coolant scarring that’s prominent on their forehead down to their thick, sharp brows. More stretching from their shoulders, down towards their collar bones.

Bloodhound’s face is just the same, seemingly carved from marble with a hooked nose. With age, now at 46, their age had slightly started to show with crow’s feet nearing their sharp eyes, as well as laugh lines on their cheeks, only really noticeable if they snarled or smiled. Their lips are full, split near the center across from five diagonal scars going across their face starting at the right side of their scalp, going through their ear and down to their left side jawline. Their sharp eyes are deep set, looking predatory near constantly. Ellie had called them out for having a ‘resting bitch face’ for it before. With their left eye a vibrant and unnatural deep crimson, and the right a blinded milky pink, both with diamond shaped pupils with their right being paler.

Their hair had to be another thing they were particularly proud of. Long, deep ginger hair in coiling, wild waves with a few gray streaks through their hair. The boldest streak of gray found at their bang and temple line. Falling well past their ass to about mid-thigh, normally pulled into a messy ponytail or varied braids throughout their hair. Their body hair is kept trimmed, save for their thick happy trail leading down below their pant line.

Bloodhound was also covered head to toe in body mods. Gauges in their ears appearing like large, swirled bones, their left ear having an industrial with varied hoops and two smaller gauges. Their right covered in the same hoops with a single stud at their helix with the same gauges. In their mouth, with their sharp upper and lower long canines, a tongue web piercing rested as well as a smiley piercing.

Nipple piercings, hip dermals , and a full jacob’s ladder with a prince albert through the head of their cock completed their piercings. Modifications done to their tongue to be split and forked at the tip, and their ears modified to be pointed. Tattoos covered up half of their flesh, a majority being black out tattoos. Swirling around their biceps and curling down their forearm partially, up to their neck where a helm of awe rested on their throat just above two ravens extending their talons out on their pecs.

Black out, swirled tattoos curl all the way down from their hips all the way to the center of their feet where the runes for Speed rested. Runes in a prayer for ‘the 13 th warrior prayer’ etched into their flesh through the areas the swirls did not cover on their legs. Over their hands they had runes on their left for justice, and on their right for death. Lines and black outs all along their hands as well.

And finally, along the base of their shaft encompassed black ink, a double band on either side are two runes for lovers/sacrificial sex. Both runes encompassing fertility.

They were huge, completely modded up behind that armor they wore. It had been a treat to see Elliott’s jaw drop open, entirely flattering them when he’d sputtered out and turned red, trying to find the words. It had been before they were in a relationship, Bloodhound having no shame in revealing their body to their fellow teammates. It had certainly been an ego booster to watch him trip over himself when they had removed their upper armor and helmet in the showers, making eye contact with the poor thing as he near tripped over his change of clothes he was dragging.

Such cute prey he made when he was flustered.

And yet, in turn, Elliott was similar yet different to their own self. Elliott had mentioned his adoration of Egyptian gods and the symbolism behind them whilst describing all his tattoos. Symbols in ink littered across his arms for Sobek, Osiris, and on both his shoulders being the eyes of Ra and Horus. On his torso being symbols for Isis as an underbust tattoo, an ankh over his left breast, a scarab over his throat and dual stars on the dips of his hips. And on his legs, symbols for Amun-Ra of a sun on his right thigh, the moon on his left, the bird-like head on his right calf, and Anubis on his left calf

His own mods were kept pretty hidden under his own uniform. More of piercings like gold barbells through his nipples, several ear piercings, a triple vertical tongue piercing, and a navel piercing.

His own body was fit, but he had a slight tummy that Bloodhound would admit they were obsessed with. His breasts were rounded, C cup they would assume and made him look rather broad in a compression bra in the arena, and his curves sharp and falling down to equally wide hips. He had a strong body, biceps well defined and his tummy equally defined, just with that small amount of softness to it that made Bloodhound want to squish it as much as his hips did. Without his boots, he stood at about 5’9”. Perfect chin resting height.

Oh, he was always such a taunting creature, wasn’t he? The tease of having Isis’ symbol upon his flesh, for fertility and motherhood. It wasn’t as if he had not had it before he had met Bloodhound, they knew that. But how their own runes on their shaft matched Her meaning- oh, he was so tempting to sink their teeth into at a constant. So inviting with his flirtatious remarks, his wits, and how beautifully he keened in their arms, murmuring their chosen name of ‘Rune’ with desperation in his voice.

That’s what had been running through Bloodhound’s head when they were in the arena today. Normally so focused and able to aid their teammates better, but something about Elliott was so distracting today.

Perhaps it was how he had smiled at them on the dropship, eyes bright and delighted at seeing them. Bloodhound had met his gaze from across the way through their goggles, watching as he held his index finger and thumbs together to form a heart and playfully blowing them a kiss. They had, in turn, delighted in seeing his pout when they drew their thumb across their throat in warning.

However, he had that look in his eye. As clever and as full of tricks as a fox, Bloodhound did not trust that look. His eyes had a gleam in them, his full lips quirking into a crooked grin before leaning back to the side to seemingly talk to Wraith, his partner in this duo match. Whilst Bloodhound found themself with a newbie, one who was talking a big game about how they were going to solo this, that they wanted to win a match on their own without a legend by their side. Bloodhound could respect that, in theory, but in practice of a blood sport that involved being in partnerships or trios? That was a mistake.

The newbie had been picked off early in the round, going so far as to split upon drop from them so Bloodhound couldn’t even respawn them and grab them by their collar like an idiotic kitten to scold. It had put them at a disadvantage- but the winds called them forward and they would answer those calls. They manage pretty well, at first, a duo is taken down by a stray spitfire they had picked up and their hatchet, another single person taken out with their longbow at a long-distance shot. A bit sloppy, but it got the job done.

They had been doing fairly well until they had caught sight of their beloved. At least, they thought they had, until they pulled the trigger on their longbow from afar and watched it crack clear through his head. Watching it dissipate with a robotic voice gleefully cackling, “Bamboozled!” But he must have been close by . He knew where they were looking. He was toying with them.

And so, the hunter becomes the hunted.

Bloodhound could grin at the idea. Their sweet little prey, always such an event with him. What would he be pulling out of his sleeve today? Would he roll over once caught and beg for their forgiveness? Bloodhound quite likes that idea, that he would bare his throat even in the arena if caught in their hands. Or would he perhaps have a new trick to pull, find a way to push their buttons until they thought of having him in the shower by his throat and sinking their teeth satisfyingly into the crook--

They’re shaken from their thoughts only when they catch that familiar yellow jumpsuit turning around a building. After quiet observation, it seems he’s alone. Perhaps a quick reminder what pretty prey he made was in order.

Their longbow shot hits next to his boot, watching through their scope as Elliott jumps and darts down into the valley left between The Cage and Market. Seeming to head towards the loot bunker below. Elliott is no fool, despite how he can come off, he should know that was a close quarters area. Bloodhound knew way better by now than to underestimate him, even if their instincts said to charge in. If not to secure a kill in their corner, but just to see what he had to say.

Wraith does not seem to be nearby; She doesn’t follow if that is the case. Bloodhound narrows their gaze, huffing to themself as they slide down from their position to edge the bunker’s mouth, slinging their mastiff from over their shoulder instead. Yet, when they drop down, they curiously note his footprints seem to be...not there?

Yet he is at the charge tower’s activation controls, his back turned to them. Their eyes narrow instantly as they approach, a hiss falling from their lips even before their fist makes contact with the hologram. “I am not playing your games today, Mirage.” They call out as the static voice fills the air with the same taunt. They know it would alert their location, draw him out of hiding of wherever he was. They expect him to follow the same path they did, drop down to their level with his hands up and that swagger in his step that his wide hips gave him.

What they don’t expect is to hear the sound of his ultimate being triggered and suddenly being surrounded by multiple of him aiming his wingman directly at them. Bloodhound is also acutely aware of the humming of two drone cameras circling the room to get in on the action of the two legends.

What a clever little trickster. They can’t help but be proud of his little parlor trick.

Bloodhound is quick to whip to the right, blasting their mastiff straight through what they hoped was the real Mirage. Only for it to dissipate into static with a taunt left behind gracing their ears of ‘bamboozled!’. Bloodhound hardly gets to take another guess when Elliott takes a well-aimed shot, shattering their armor with the loud crack of skullpiercer. Their second shot is incorrect, and their ultimate downfall when the real Mirage kicks the backs of their knees, sending them forward as another hologram kicks their chest to send them flat on their back and their mastiff skidding across the ground.

“Sooo, the hunter the gods have sent,” Elliott croons out in a sarcastic tone as he presses his boot to their chest to keep them down to the ground. Bloodhound grunts, snarling behind their respirator as he leans down on his thigh, applying more pressure. His wingman is tapping their helm, the only thing keeping them from lunging forward and tripping him up. “Tricked by lil ole me? Why, Houndie, I’m flattered ! Really, I am.”

His voice is a taunt and Bloodhound can’t help but look to his full lips quirking into that crooked grin they loved so much. Dimples crease his cheeks, his eyes sparkling with mischief in that way that always got Bloodhound to croon his fond nickname of ‘little fox’. But now, they bare their sharp teeth behind their respirator, fingers clenched into fists and their body starting to move to maybe lunge at him.

The click of his wingman cocking and those lips crooning, “Ah, ah, ah, ah! Not so fast, pup.” as if chiding a pet makes Bloodhound stay put, only propped up on their elbows and huffing at the humiliation. Elliott was playing a dangerous game, he knew that, always so clever and calculating. This taunt must have been for the last time Bloodhound had the upper hand and made that pretty little bird under them sing his pleads before they’d claimed Champion by a well-aimed hatchet.

A slight that Elliott did not seem to forget. Nor did videos scouring the various planets.

“Ah, well! Ya know, I won’t waste your time. Know you got better things to do than win like I do. Say hello to the ole’ chewing bone for me, will ya?” Elliott’s voice is that same crooning taunt, confidence rolling off him and each word another press into Bloodhound’s buttons. They go to lunge, and the last thing they hear is the loud crack. Placing Bloodhound third, with one last squad to go for Mirage and Wraith.

Elliott and Wraith claim champion not long after Bloodhound awakens in the medical bay with a frustrated growl. It doesn’t help that Elliott’s cockiness stirred something in them, something that hungered to see that look wiped off his face. Wanting to see that pretty face he made underneath them instead, except Bloodhound can’t find sympathy within them for what they have planned for him.

Humiliated. They were humiliated in front of the cameras. This would be talked about, Bloodhound could accept a loss, could accept even their beloved’s hand ending them in the arena. But, oh, they knew this would be talked about in interviews to come. That Ellie’s sweet smile would twist upon her features as she recalled the events, with that sparkle in her eye as she glanced at the camera’s lens and knew Bloodhound was watching not far.

No. Bloodhound does not find mercy within them for the thoughts that curl inside their mind. Predatory- hungry. Their little bird would sing until Bloodhound had their fill, until they felt that Elliott had accepted the punishment that he must have known was approaching. He should have, or else he wouldn’t have pressed and taunted like that. Normally if he caught the upper hand on them, he’d beam all proud of himself and Bloodhound’s heart would flutter at his pride.

This?

This was intentional. And Bloodhound would give him what he desired. Intensely.

Bloodhound considers this as they go to the showers, the sting of the humiliation lighter but not in the slightest eliminated. It still hangs fresh in their mind as they pull their respirator off to hang around their neck, about to start working on the rest of their heavier gear when humming reaches their ears. Cocking their head to the side, they turn towards the sound, watching Elliott joyfully humming to himself and swaying his body as he comes into the locker room area. Smelling strong of sweat and gun smoke.

Elliott must be high off his own win, not paying attention to his surroundings when he bumps right into Bloodhound. He jumps, taking a step back and his eyes landing on their chest where they must expect someone else, quickly flicking his gaze up to their face and offering a nervous smile.

“Elliott...” Bloodhound’s voice is a growl, that low rumble that makes Elliott bubble out a nervous laugh. He goes to take a step back, hands up and defensive and his back hitting a locker as they approach like a slinking predator. But at least he doesn’t look hurt, so they must have gotten the name correctly today. A male day, then.

Elliott gulps harshly when they come closer, another nervous laugh coming out. “H- Houndie ! Baby, I uh- I didn’t see you th --” He yelps when a hand fists into his curls, yanking his head back and their other gloved hand coming up to grip his jaw. Their thumb presses to his cheek, forcing his gaze to remain on them with a tight hold on his jaw. He can see the way their crimson eye glows behind their goggles, hungry and predatory.

“Quiet.” Bloodhound’s voice is a low snarl to stop his words and Elliott clicks his mouth shut. His breath hitches as they come closer, pressing their bodies together and Elliott can’t help but reach up. His hands land on both their forearms, squeezing them lightly but without intent to move them. He’s rewarded with a thick thigh shoving its way between his own, forcing them apart as a shaky breath inhales past his full lips. You really can’t blame the way his eyes flutter with anticipation, honeyed eyes flickering down to Bloodhound’s full lips and the sharpness of their teeth. So pretty.

Yeah. He was such a lucky person.

“You know what you have done, lítill refur.”

Maaaybe not that lucky.

“Who- me? Why, what did lil ole’ me d— ah !”

Not Elliott’s smartest move to back talk and play innocent when he’s being held by them. Their thigh comes up against him through the thin fabric of his holosuit, making sure to put enough pressure to make him stand on his tiptoes. They force him still, forcing his body to rock across their thigh until his hips start to do it automatically with a faint whimper building up from his throat.

“Do not play a fool, Elliott Witt. You knew exactly what you were doing to get what you wanted- and what is it that you want, hm?” Bloodhound’s voice is low, leaning close to his face until Elliott can see the reflection of his eyes in their goggles. How widely blown his pupils are and how he’s already got his lips parted and facial expression wanting. “Do you wish for me to take you here where anyone can find you? Where the cameras shall pick up on your pathetic whining?”

As if on cue, Elliott whines when Bloodhound’s hand moves from his jaw, keeping his hair still firmly in their grip as they trace down his body with their free hand. Their hand goes straight downwards, moving their thigh to cup his crotch and running their thumb over the seam of his cunt through his holosuit. Applying just the right amount of pressure to make his hips twitch into their grasp with a harsh gasp leaving his lips. They keep that pressure, rubbing across him until they feel wetness start to seep through the fabric. And only then does Bloodhound draw their hand way much to his dismay.

In fact, they let him go, getting completely off him as they swipe their split tongue over their thumb with a satisfied hum just to watch Elliott tremble. “Get cleaned up. Come to your room when you are finished.” Their eyes sweep over his frame, watching as he nods quickly as if all that fight and trickery has left his body. Bloodhound can’t help the smirk that graces their lips.

“Oh, and Elliott?” They call as Elliott starts to gather his civilian clothing, only able to get around the corner when they speak. They get the pleasure of watching him stop near instantly, shooting a look over his shoulder with those big puppy dog eyes of his as if begging them not to be too cruel. ”Be sure not to touch yourself. I will know. I do so hate when someone else touches my meal.”

Bloodhound does not miss the quiet ‘fuck’ Elliott whines out when he turns the corner, his feet hurrying across the floor.

Poor thing. However, Bloodhound has no sympathy for him. Not today.

Bloodhound had set up in Elliott’s room while he showered. They had recently gotten him a collar that they hoped he would enjoy- it was meant to be a gift, but now was as good of a time as any. A yellow and black lace, thick ribbon collar with a black and yellow bow on the front. A small silver O-ring was on the front with a little silver raven charm hanging off, the collar itself able to be tied in the back with a thin black ribbon. It wasn’t made to be tugged or yanked, but it was certainly a quiet marking of what they intended. Possessive. Theirs.

Lubrication was set to the side on his nightstand, his bed made politely to be comfortable for him. It was tempting to lie out rope, to be able to bind him and use him like a toy until he sobbed out. But, they knew that’s what he wanted, to be able to be fucked until he was made to not think.

However, Elliott was notoriously whiny when it came to edging. That was a true punishment for him.

Speaking of the devilish fox, they hear the beep of the lock before the door slides open. Elliott sneaks in quietly, refusing to lift his head and look at Bloodhound. How cute. His curls are freshly styled, fluffy and cleaned. A loose gray t-shirt is on his frame with matching sweatpants and his striped black and white socks, his shoes toed off at the door. Bloodhound had taken the time to strip in Elliott’s room. Their uniform gone sans for their tactical pants now hanging low on their hips without a belt, revealing their fit upper torso and all of their mods. Their long, long hair was pulled up into a ponytail, a few braids framing their face.

“Bloodh--”

“My name, little one. We are safe alone.”

“Rune -” Elliott breathes out as if he’d been holding it in all day. Finally raising his gaze from the floor to see them. He’s always shameless in the way he looks over their form, making Bloodhound’s chest swell with pride as they sit up taller for him to take in their form. They beckon him closer with their finger, watching that earlier fighting look in his eyes melt away as he approaches. “Is. ..Is it too late to say sorry?”

“Very.” Bloodhound replies, a smirk on their lips once he reaches them. Elliott whines low in his throat, but quickly stops when Bloodhound begins to stand. Towering over him, but they twirl their finger for him to turn around. He quickly obeys, making their heart swell, but they must keep their mind focused. He had humiliated them in the arena and had done so without abandon, that shall not be forgotten.

At first, they gently tug at the bottom of his shirt, waiting to hear him protest. But his arms go up, allowing them to pull off the shirt with ease. Running their hands down his curves and down to his hips with a sigh. “To hide such a beautiful form is a crying shame, my love. The gods have blessed you with their beauty, and yet tonight you try to hide that from me?” They can’t help but tut their tongue, their voice playful, yet honest.

They lean down to nuzzle into his hair to inhale his scent only briefly, moving to his sports bra, once again checking before they pull it up and over his head. They understood what dysphoria could do, thankfully Elliott had explained most days he didn’t experience it, whilst Bloodhound had the blessing of confidence in their own form.

The entire time, Elliott’s breathing is getting heavier as their heated hands slide down his form, taking the time to feel up his chest like he likes. Bloodhound leans their head down to trail their split tongue down his neck, pressing a heated kiss to the crook of his neck as their hand slides under his pants’ waistband. They growl when they find no underwear, feeling the trimmed hair between his thighs as they tuck their hand between his parted thighs. Tracing over his already wet cunt and sliding two fingers through his lower lips, tracing upwards towards his clit to part his lower lips just to make him whine out, “Rune, baby, please-”

Bloodhound helps him out of his pants then. Leaving Elliott in his socks only before they reach back to grab the collar. They pull it around Elliott’s neck, tying it in the back and checking to make sure they could fit two fingers underneath so he could wear it comfortably. It’s worth the reveal just to hear how Elliott whimpers, his hips twitching into nothing and his head tipping back on their shoulder to look up at them. “You got me a collar, pup?” Spoken in a shaky, almost amused tone that makes Bloodhound smirk.

“It is to mark what is mine. You complained the last time I tried to mark you and said a collar would be easier- I merely took your advice.”

“Because you left me BLOODY and covered in BITE MARKS!” Elliott stresses out as if he didn’t enjoy every second of it, moving with Bloodhound as they spin him around. They walk back until they can sit back on the edge of the bed, guiding Elliott onto one of their thighs. He straddles it with ease, momentarily focused more on proving his point as he tips his head to the side, showing the pink scar on the crook of his neck and jutting an accusing finger at it. It’s partially hidden by the collar, and Bloodhound can’t help but groan at the sight, whilst Elliott whines. “Look! You’ve bitten me so many times it’s scarred!”

Calloused hands slide up Elliott’s curves, squeezing his breasts and teasing his nipples with their thumbs just to make his mouth shut. Feeling his hips jerk as his hands grip their broad shoulders with a low sound leaving his throat. “Mmh. I believe your last words to that was ‘you can bite harder than that’.” Bloodhound cheekily replies, being sure to show off their sharp teeth as they tug one of his pierced nipples, making his hips twitch again. Able to flick their gaze down to see the wet spot he’s put on their pants.

Bloodhound abandons his sensitive nipples to grip his hips instead in a bruising embrace. Pressing their nails to his flesh just as he liked and tugging him forward to make his hips twitch backwards, forcing his large clit to peek out from his lower lips. Their mouth waters at the thought of getting their mouth on him, but they had to pace their actions. Elliott would easily get over excited and cum if they weren’t careful at monitoring his body.

With the goal easily in mind, they allow Elliott to cling to them as they grab his hips and start rocking him, forcing him to hump their thigh. His breathing is quick to pick up, pressing his face into their neck and clinging around them with a soft swear exhaling from his lips. Bloodhound releases his hips, getting joy in the fact that he’s already canting his own hips against their thigh and whimpering into their neck. “Fuck, baby, I could probably c-cum like this.”

“You won’t.” Bloodhound assures, curling one hand into the back of Elliott’s curls, the other gripping his hip to set the pace to something quicker when Elliott slows down with that sputtering little ‘wait wha -’ coming out of his mouth. It’s as if he realizes their plans, his nails pressing into their back and a whine erupting past his soft panting.

“God, Rune- sweetheart, that- that isn’t fair.” He tries to whine out, rolling his hips into their thigh and leaving a bigger wet mark. His fat clit that Bloodhound loved so much made it easy to grind against any object. Some days Bloodhound couldn’t help but wonder what else he could just get off on. If he liked humping them like a dog so much.

“Not fair?” Bloodhound parrots back in the same whine he does, mocking him. They steady their thigh, setting his pace harsher until his body is rocking quicker, trembling with more swears tumbling from his lips into their shoulder. “Oh, my love, this is justice. To humiliate me in the arena is one thing, but to humiliate me in front of the gods?” They tut their tongue, yanking his hips forward to force him harder against them to make him sob out.

Elliott can’t even come up with a response, his breathing already so heavy and his hips grinding downwards on their own accord. But the second his breathing hitches and he whimpers out a ‘fuck!’, Bloodhound drops their thigh, their hand leaving his curls and both hands grabbing his hips. Forcing him to hover just above their lap without him tumbling to the floor. Elliott still tries to grind into nothing, his mouth moving and singing out just like they thought he would. “Fuck- baby, sweetheart —Rune- Rune, come on, that isn’t- ah - funny! Can’t you just overs—overt—make me cum until I cry?!”

All the while they can smell him. That deep, musky scent that makes them want to growl, so they do, low in their throat and causing Elliott to sob into their neck from his own denial. It was one of his most hated things, so he claimed, and yet he always was a mess after. Dripping and drooling and begging for them. Bloodhound certainly enjoyed it. Especially with how he whines into their neck and his hips twitch in their hands as if he humping air could solve his problems.

“Perhaps if you were a good little pup, I would make use of your fertile little cunt right now,” They pause there to hold him up with one hand under his ass, the other tucking between his trembling, spread thighs to run their thumb from his hole to his clit. Delighting in the breathy noise he releases, watching Elliott lean back with heavy eyes to watch Bloodhound’s promising tongue lick over the slick with a low groan. “Instead, you had to be bratty and cocky.”

Elliott, however, has always been a good persuader to get what he wanted.

Bloodhound lets his hips drop back down to their thigh that they pull back up to give him pressure. Elliott looks so pretty already, completely bare, a flush edging over his chest and face, that pretty collar around his throat, and not to mention when their eyes drop they can see the way his clit sits on their thigh. They almost want to drag their thumb down to touch him again, but judging by his half-lidded eyes and his hitched breath, that might just set him off too early.

However, Elliott was ever quick with his silver tongue, licking over his lips with his own pierced tongue that made Bloodhound’s breath catch, knowing just the dangers of how it could work their cock. “Please,” He whines out, low in his throat as their hands flex on his hips, a growl building in their own throat in warning when Elliott’s hands slide down their chest. “Please, please, I’ll be so good, baby, I’ll be your good dog. Any way you want me, I’ll do it- you wanna breed me? I know you do, I’ll be so good for you, you’ll see, come on just bend me over, forget this whole thing and we can--”

He’s cut off when one of their hands comes up to grab his hair again, causing a cry to erupt from his lips mid-sentence as his head is yanked back. Bloodhound would be the first to admit that they were hard- the whole situation with him could drive them to this point of hunger. Only this clever little fox could make them want to lose control so badly, their plan almost swayed by the idea of bending him over and taking him raw and hard how he liked.

“You will take your punishment with honor, Elliott. Do not babble and beg, you deserve this and you know it. I dare say you wanted this to happen. Such a masochist.” Bloodhound near about snarls out, raising their lips to show their sharp teeth, their other hand on his hip starting to force him to move again. But this time, they keep the hold on his hair, tugging it until his throat is bare and they can see the way his eyes flutter and try to roll into the back of his head.

The second he’s close, they stop him again, much to his dismay judging by how he sobs out. They wait for him to settle down again, letting him frantically hump their thigh this time, until they pull him away a third time. Elliott reacts with a sob, tears welling in his eyes and his body trembling. His hands ball into fists at his sides, his hips squirming in a way that tells Bloodhound he’d probably be stomping for not being able to get his way by now, if his feet could touch the ground.

“You may cum this time, little one.” Bloodhound assures him, setting him gently back down on their lap once his breathing settles. They ease on his hair, grabbing his jaw and tilting his blurry gaze up to them, swiping their thumb on his lower lip sweetly. “What is your color?”

“Green! Green, so green, very green.” Elliott breathily replies quickly, earning a small smile from Bloodhound as they lean to kiss his forehead softly with a ‘good’.

It’s a break in the scene, they both know it, but it was to ensure both of their safety. Bloodhound feared of crossing a line despite Elliott constantly telling them that they could ‘fuck him up’ and he’d be happy, and Elliott liked the pause to know that they weren’t actually angry with him but it was more of a scene to play.

There’s that brief moment shared where they go from his forehead, to his nose in a peck, and then to his lips the same way before they’re moving back into their role. Keeping a grip on his jaw to make sure that their eyes meet as Elliott starts humping their thigh again. More frantic and earnest in his desires, like a dog humping a leg. Soaking through their pants as repetitive moans leave his lips of ‘ah, ah, ah’ the closer he gets.

“Say thank you.” Bloodhound reminds him, pressing their thigh up harder against him.

It takes not five seconds after before his body is seizing beautiful, muscles taut and tears spilling down his cheeks finally as Elliott cries out, “ Thankyouthankyouthankyou - hnnh —thank you, fuck , oh thank you, Daddy -” Like the good boy he was, each twitch of his hips making a shuddery breath leave him and a spasm rock his frame from his orgasm.

However, he doesn’t get a break. Not when he uses that title. It’s like a band snaps within Bloodhound and they need their tongue on him. Now.

Near instantly, while he’s still twitching and contracting, Bloodhound moves their position. Slamming Elliott down onto the bed to crawl between his thighs like they were starving for him this entire time. And they were. His legs go over their shoulders, their hands clasping his inked thighs tightly and forcing them apart so their tongue could lick up his drooling mess.

They moan at the same time Elliott sobs out, his hands slamming down into their beautiful mess of amber waves to clutch tightly at the root and pulling just like they liked. It only drives them to quicken their tongue, licking up his mess and wetly getting their mouth around his clit to suckle and trace over the shape of it in eager licks.

Bloodhound can’t help but rut into the bed when they finally get his taste and smell on their tongue and nose. Slick smears across their lips, down their chin and over their nose from how wet he is, but they never minded a messy meal. Elliott’s so delirious and still riding that high of his orgasm, over sensitive from his denial as his back arches off the bed and he’s making such pretty sounds.

Bloodhound lets their gaze look up to him, seeing his head thrown back and exposing the collar around his throat. How his chest rises and falls quick with each pant and his body twitches and trembles to each lick over his clit. When they introduce two fingers into his pliant pussy to work in tandem, it doesn’t take long before his mouth is going a mile a minute, “Yes, yes, yes- God your tongue is my favorite—f-favorite thing. Ah - wish you’d just fuck me— hhh ! Just fuck me already! Oh - you sounded so angry in the arena- fuck, you looked so good, wanted to- to just shove my wingman in your fucking mouth and make you my dog right there-”

Bloodhound can only growl against him, rutting their hips harder against the bed at the mental image he’s providing. Elliott was always better at the dirty talk, not even thinking as his mouth ran. Twisting his fingers into their amber locks to press their head down and they follow so eagerly, burying their face between his thighs with a deeper hunger at the idea of Elliott making them his dog.

Another time, they tell themself, because tonight they needed inside him.

When Elliott cums again with a loud cry, Bloodhound moans against him, messily licking up the mess he’s spilling onto their tongue. They pull back to pant heavily against him, their fingers still pounding into him and curling upwards, keeping him still on that high. They get the pleasure of seeing him arch off the bed, his hips trying to thrust upwards and dropping back down in little twitches like his body can’t decide to get away from their fingers or fuck himself on them.

“Is this not what you wanted?” Bloodhound can’t help but tease, fucking their fingers upwards and introducing a third. “To cum until you cry, little one? You were just begging for it earlier.”

Their point is driven home by their lips sealing back over his clit. Elliott screams out, twisting his fingers back into their hair and slamming them down against them. Bucking up against their face as they curl all three fingers into him and let him hump their face desperately. A string of ‘yes, yes, yes’ falling from his lips until a third orgasm rocks his body.

That should be plenty of prep.

It’s a bit of a move to get Elliott’s hands out of their hair, especially when Bloodhound could spend hours just licking him clean and feeling their hair pulled. Gently, they manage to move his twitching body, whimpers erupting from his lips and his headspace long gone.

So cute when he was just a little doll for them. Little prey all caught up in their arms.

Bloodhound sits back on the edge of the bed, dropping Elliott into their lap and undoing their pants. Hardly having the patience to remove them as they tug them down enough to pull out their pierced cock. They catch the way Elliott looks down at their own hand stroking themself to pull back the foreskin. Pausing to slide fingers between his lower lips to gather the slick and cheekily, lightly pinching his clit to make his hips jerk with a yelp. Smearing his slick over their own cock as lubricant and letting their own groan bubble from their lips, one that Elliott matches.

“Come here, litli kanína, spread your legs.” Bloodhound encourages him, watching just how Elliott splays across their lap, arms dropping around Bloodhound’s shoulders as he pulls himself up. They can’t help the growl that leaves them, dragging their cock through his lower lips, letting the head catch over his hole and up to his clit with each slide. “This is mine. You are mine. You are my prey to do with as I please, am I understood?”

“Y-yes, Boss.” Elliott chokes out, his clit giving an obvious jerk and his cunt contracting with his own arousal and drooling more slick onto them. Bloodhound swears under their breath when their eyes meet, Elliott’s honeyed gaze half lidded and tears pricking his eyes. He had to be so sensitive, and yet still was oh so willing to spread his legs and do as they wished. That was as good of an apology as any.

Bloodhound eases Elliott down onto their cock, a swear erupting from their own lips at how tight and wet he is. They can feel each barbell on their cock slip into him, like a milestone marker with each inch added. Their cock wasn’t exactly small either, thick enough you couldn’t wrap your fingers around to meet each other on it, uncut and seven inches. There was nothing to be ashamed of on their body, they were very confident in it, and even more so when Elliott seemed to appreciate every inch of them.

They can still feel how he squeezes down on them, probably still sensitive and every twitch making Elliott clench down. He looks every bit the role he plays of prey, so sweet with his eyes fluttering and his arms clinging around them. They brush their hands up his sides, squeezing the soft bit of abdomen he had and causing him to squirm with a whimpered, “H-hey-”

“I plan to fill your womb with my pups, little one,” Bloodhound starts, smoothing their hand over the front of Elliott’s abdomen, dropping their hand down so they could use their thumb to swirl over his clit. Elliott gasps out, hips twitching over them and making Bloodhound grunt softly. “Such a pretty mama you shall make. Swollen with our child, and these,” They pause there, bringing their hands up to squeeze his chest and thumbing his nipples. ”So full and swollen. How beautiful you will be.”

Elliott’s moans of agreement could be enough to make them spill inside of him. Sounding so sweet when he whimpers out, “Yes, yes, yes-” Like he can’t get enough of the idea. It was something they had talked about- both kink wise and a future. Ellie had mentioned wanting to be a stay at home parent, proudly saying she would play the role of papa and mama with glee in her eyes. That she wanted a little homestead, a dog, a few kiddos running around. The look on her face when Bloodhound had agreed and said that was something they wished as well stayed in their mind for ages. Her big dimpled smile, the tears in her eyes in excitement. So sweet.

And in turn, it became a discussion where Bloodhound had mentioned their little kink with a red face and playing with their hair to avoid eye contact. Ellie had been eager to agree- despite birth control being very well in place, it was still a little thing they indulged in. The terminology never bothered her either, whether it was an Ellie or Elliott day, though it did seem she gravitated towards Mama the most rather than Papa.

Elliott’s hips have started to move now on their own, eager to ride Bloodhound it seems, and they don’t mind. Not when they can focus on wrapping their arms around him in turn, holding him close and tucking their head down to his neck. They lick and suck at the flesh there, teasing over the pink scar they had left ages ago. Their own noises are limited, soft grunts and pants with each slide and squeeze of Elliott’s cunt around them.

Elliott’s mouth isn’t helping either, crooning into their ear absolute filth. “Want you to cum in me, baby, want to feel how your cock empties in me. C-cum in me as many times as you like until I’m full for you and- a-ah-” His mouth can only do so much when one of their hands reaches down, cupping his mound and working his clit with their thumb. It’s a distraction when their teeth sink into his neck, delighting in how his pussy contracts and a pained ’nghk!’ leaves him.

They don’t stop there, leaving bruises and bite marks over his neck and shoulders, their other hand pressing to his lower back to press every time his hips come down to force him to grind forward into their hand. Bloodhound can’t help their own hips from thrusting up into him, his moans and whines like music to their ears.

It’s only when his body tenses and another orgasm comes crashing down through his body do their teeth sink into that familiar scar, their arms tightening around him and holding him still on their cock.

Elliott’s body jerks, swears tumbling from his lips as his hands fist into their hair. A symphony of, “Fuck, fuck, fuck-” Whining from his throat as Bloodhound growls when they cum. Exhaling from their nose shakily and parting from his neck to pant against him with each jerk of their cock spilling their cum deep within him.

“Fuck, Rune.” Elliott breathes out, his voice hoarse and tears having spilled down his face at some point. Bloodhound takes a moment to blink their own haziness away, sitting up with a tremble in their movement as they cup his cheeks. Swiping their thumbs over his tear stained cheeks but Elliott only laughs softly, breathless. ”Yeah , yeah, don’t whine about it, pup, I’m okay. Would have told you if I was hurt, yeah?”

Bloodhound can’t even find their voice at first, just drawing him close to rest their foreheads together in a comforting gesture. It’s with utter care and gentleness they help Elliott off their lap to lie in the bed they had made earlier. Murmuring that they’d be right back as they slide out of bed, tucking their cock away and fixing their pants- much to Elliott’s disappointment.

They leave the room and return with a few wet wash cloths, salve, and water for him. Seeing the sight of him elevating his hips, legs pulled up to either side of his head and exposing himself entirely. Bloodhound can’t help the groan when Elliott only grins up at them cheekily. “Hey, baby. Just wanted to make sure it takes.”

“Elliott Witt you are a menace.” They can’t help but whine out, their mouth watering at the tempting sight of his cunt, still swollen from sex and some cum leaking down towards his ass. They almost lick it up, but refrain and bat his arms to let his legs go. Cleaning him up first with one wash cloth over his cunt, resting the coldness of it over him to help reduce the swelling in his clit. The other is taken gently to his neck, cleaning up the blood from their bite marks and cooling salve applied.

Bloodhound then goes to the floor to find his clean clothes. Helping him back into his shirt and sweatpants with a little help from Elliott. Bloodhound works out of the rest of their gear, grabbing a pair of their own lounge pants they’d left here before. Elliott’s already got his arms up, eagerly bringing them into an embrace until they both can arrange in bed, facing each other and legs tangled, Bloodhound’s hands cupping his cheeks softly. They admire him, eyes flickering down to his lips that are pulled into a small smile.

Light of their life. They would kill for him, die for him, they would do anything he asked if it meant he would still stay smiling like he is. How they loved to have him in their arms, safe and warmed, knowing he was comfortable and at peace. The gods have gifted him to them, and they would not quell that flame within them ever for him. How they compared his eyes to the sun and his smile to--

“Hey, does this mean you aren’t mad about earlier?”

Bloodhound huffs through their nose, squishing his face to make his lips push out and making his brows furrow in a pout. “You are a menace.” They repeat. Laughing at his face softly when he tries to grin and it ends up smooshed in their hands.

“So that’s a yes?”

They can only groan at him, pushing a pillow into his face instead to muffle his teasing of them being ‘whipped’ and ‘wrapped around his finger’. Perhaps they were.

But, wouldn’t you if you were sent such a beautiful gift as him?

#miragehound #mirage #bloodhound #apex lemons #apex legends #genderfluid mirage #nsft #lemon #commissions #princess writing

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blue---rose · 4 years ago

Text

White Widow - Chapter Six

Fanfiction.net | AO3

Title: White Widow Chapter: Six Author: Blue Rose

Huge shout out to my new beta - CherryBerry12. Thank you :) 💖

“Jesus, what did you eat today? Where did it all come from?!”

If Sakura could, she would have pinched her nose closed, but she needed both hands for the task of bagging up the dog poop while keeping the leash out of it. She didn’t understand why dogs never watched where they were going and tried to keep Akumaru from stepping in his droppings before she could clean up.

Finishing, she tossed the mess in a waste bin they passed before crossing the street.

“That crap was almost as big as your head.” Sakura laughed.

The pair had just come from a small park at the end of the block and were now heading to their intended destination. On the surface, it was just a smart thing to do — letting the dog relieve himself before they needed to go inside. In reality, it was her just procrastinating. And she used every second of it.

However, the growing puppy didn't care much about taking a stroll today. Especially when they approached the towering highrise. This was his other home, and his panting and excitement signaled he knew exactly where they were.

"Ok! Ok! We're going."

Approaching the entrance, Sakura was careful to watch her step while she admired the way the evening sun reflected off the smoked glass and steel. There was a dark, eerie beauty she found in the looming structure before them.

The last time she'd been here, a thin layer of snow had covered all of the asphalt. Frigid temperatures caused the flurries to stick to the ground like falling powder — perfect for making snow angels.

She remembered that the exterior had been decorated with strings of twinkling blue lights as well with poinsettias arranged beneath the windows in a festive holiday display.

Thank goodness the weather was not below freezing as it was prior, months ago. Though, that didn't stop a wave of nerves from washing over her, wondering again how she managed to get herself into another weird situation.

Oh, yeah... that's right.

It started with a favor.

It always started with a favor.

Because she had a difficult time saying no and was consistently willing to lend a hand to anyone in need.

Which is why she was opening the glass doors to walk through the vestibule, speaking to the concierge in the lobby to give her name.

Well, it was much too late to change her mind and Sakura sighed, releasing Akamaru from her arms after the elevator doors closed. Making a steady ascent to the top floor, she mulled over the reasons she was there in the first place.

Sasuke had asked if she could return the dog to Kiba's family.

He'd never met any of them, and correctly presumed she would know how to reach someone. It wasn’t much of a stretch. She and Kiba had been friends since freshman year in high-school.

Sakura conceded to do his bidding, but followed up with some questions of her own — like, why was he watching over the dog to begin with?

Despite being guarded, Sasuke answered all of her questions. Still, she couldn't shake the feeling things were being left unsaid.

What quickly followed however, were thoughts of the canine’s owner. And soon she felt the dormant bud of concern blooming within her, once again.

Kiba .

Gently nudging away the worry she'd felt, Sakura went along with it. Especially after Sasuke revealed that it was against his lease to have a dog — up until now he'd been taking a risk.

Feeling a little sorry that he’d been keeping him, she agreed to return the pup. Which is how she'd ended up here.

The elevator came to a smooth stop at its designated floor, the thick doors sliding open. Akamaru pulled her down the hall, towards the other home he knew by scent and memory.

Sakura only knew they were at the correct place because of the ' PH3 ' plaque beside the red door.

Reaching out, she pulled down on the lever-like knob, entering once a voice beckoned her inside.

"Hello?"

She unhooked the leash from the studded collar just to watch the ball of fur run deeper into the suite, his tiny paws gaining traction against the mahogany planks of wood. Following seconds later, she rounded the corner to catch sight of a figure standing near an alcove.

Sakura looked on as Akamaru whined near the person's feet, pawing at their immaculately pressed pants. He then proceeded to roll onto his back, completely exposing his belly.

Sakura brought her eyes up to greet a woman whose tips of brown hair curled around her sharp jaw. Defined lips were painted a deep violet with a peremptory tone to match. Her voice was smooth and rich, whisking past her ears.

"Sakura."

Tsume Inuzuka stood as statuesque as royalty. Her commanding aura matched the intensity in her swirling, chocolate brown eyes. The attitude alone was worthy of any crown, but she was far too brutish for something as dainty as a tiara. Her brassknuckles nature had served her well in business...

And, maybe in her personal life as well?

The matriarch was already married to husband number three if she remembered correctly. Despite being rather intimidating, there was another side to her... a more gentle side. Something that was softer around the edges and reserved only for a select few.

Sakura hoped she could tap into that side now. Maybe it would help, especially when a certain topic was brought up.

"It's been a while, hasn't it?"

Reaching down, the brunette picked up the squirming pooch to move him under her arm, briefly inspecting his form with a keen eye.

"Hello, Mrs. Inuzuka...Er! I mean, ' Shimazu ' now... isn't it?" Sakura ran a hand across her neck, smiling to cover the wince she so desperately tried to hide.

"Tsume is fine. Come here, let me get a good look at you. You've finally got some meat on those bones, I see."

Almond-shaped nails dipped in black lifted the young girl's chin, fingers tilting her face and Sakura felt a blush warming her cheeks under the scrutiny.

"Ah... yes, it has been a while. Thank you for meeting with me on such short notice."

The dark-haired woman moved to sit on a loveseat, reaching for her glass of wine.

"Lucky it's not the weekend, or I would have been in California by now," she asserted, swirling the Merlot around in the wine glass.

Sakura politely declined the offer to join her with a glass of her own. She did accept a seat, however, sitting across from the older woman as she continued.

"I thought he would've lasted a lot longer before dumping his responsibilities on someone else. Speaking of which..."

Tsume raised her eyes to meet Sakura's, the tips of her nails clicking against the glass before she pressed on.

"You mentioned that you haven't heard from that son of mine. He's decided to stop responding to me too, which has been very irritating."

The layered ends of Sakura's high ponytail swung across the top of her shoulders as she shook her head. Her bangs rested partially in her face but their eyes remained locked as she confirmed what she’d said earlier over the phone.

"No, I have not."

The hand that was twirling the glass stopped, digits gripping the stem while the ambrosia settled within.

Shadows from the lowering sun tilted across the walls signaling the oncoming sunset. Quiet and sobering — as something stirred in the air and the mood changed.

Sakura sat immobile and tried not to fidget under the weight.

The tension was broken when Tsume released a hum, cutting off eye contact to look down. Reaching over, she grabbed a piece of prosciutto arranged on a platter from the coffee table.

Sakura slowly released the breath she had no idea she was holding until then.

Hesitating, she felt the need to tread lightly but knew it was necessary to shed some light on the situation. Be that as it may, it didn't look like she was going to be discovering anything new with the way things were going.

"That's actually why I wanted to speak with you. He hasn't responded to my messages either. At first, I wasn't worried, because of... well-."

Kiba's history of disappearing was left unspoken, but Tsume grunted in understanding, taking a long sip from her glass.

His mother was instantly reminded of his past rebellious acts. Although there usually would be some sort of... warning that preceded any dark turn.

Her remarrying or becoming bi-coastal were just a few examples. She could remember the fights and fallouts that followed. Especially regarding his choice of outlets.

The reckless behavior, the unsavory habits, the disagreements... she remembered them all.

But...

Tsume thought they'd long moved past that. He seemed to finally settle down... as much as someone like him could. He'd been taking care of his apartment, had stayed out of jail-

As far as she knew ...

-and out of most forms of trouble for quite some time now. It was hard to recall the last time she'd received a phone call that ended with screams, threats, or sour disappointment. She'd hate to think he'd regressed.

"Is there anyone he's been hanging around? A new group of friends, maybe? Other than Ino and yourself—"

Tsume was in the dark to whom he was associating with these days. "...he rarely tells me anything and I can barely keep up with him."

Sakura was not the type to be dishonest but she found herself in an uncomfortable position. Choosing her words carefully and hoping her deception wouldn't come back to bite her in the ass, she gave what she thought would be just enough.

"No one I've talked to has seen or heard from him either. I'm sorry."

She was here to get as much information as she could, without giving too much away.

All because...

Sasuke had also asked that she keep his name out of everything. As far as Kiba's folks were concerned, he didn't exist. And he'd like to keep it that way.

He had his reasonings; he’d murmured some explanation and Sakura relented because it made sense at the time. Maybe not giving names was the safest route.

But now that she was here, it was uncomfortable as hell, and her stomach felt like bats were fluttering away in it. The calm expression she presented on the surface, however, was flawless.

Moments ticked, ticked, ticked away... before Tsume finally waved her fingers dismissively. She'd heard everything she needed to hear. Crossing one leg over the other, the perfect cuff in her pants rested against her heel.

"No matter. Someone is already looking into it. If that boy thinks he can get away with ignoring me, he has another thing coming. I'm just wondering what foreign jail cell or backwater whore house I'll need to rescue him from this time ," she sneered, gulping down the last of her wine.

Sakura adjusted slightly, not saying a word but giving her a small nod. But her fingers curled into fists hidden within her pockets, the rings she wore digging into her skin.

It's not like she wanted him to be caught behind bars. Or needing to be dragged to a health clinic the next day, for thorough testing.

It's just...

At least he would be found, and all this fuss would have been all over nothing. But until that happened...

Sakura gave Tsume a small smile, hoping to ease away any concern this conversation may have brought.

Hidden away on the inside, she wished someone was there for her right now — who could return the favor. Someone who would gift her the same comfort she'd just offered Tsume to maybe put her mind at ease. Because even after speaking with his mother and listening to her confident answer...

Sakura could not shake the feeling that just wouldn't go away.

Something was amiss.

But she hoped that she was off track... and just being paranoid. And that his mother was right.

This was just one of those... 'Kiba times'.

It's exactly what a large part of her was wishing for... and what she needed to believe.

✧･ﾟ* : *ﾟ･✧

He hated that damn bow.

Sure... on its own, it was harmless.

That was all an illusion, though. Being an inanimate object did not stop it from being a vexation.

And just how could something so insignificant, be so... troublesome? After all, it was merely a decorative accessory, attached to a pair of heels. Looking so innocent, affixed to the leather band caging her slender ankle.

But looks could be deceiving.

It became problematic when his eyes traveled north. And for the life of him, Sasuke couldn't fathom how a few inches on a shoe could be so devastating. The manner in which they elongated her legs as his focus strayed upward. Following an invisible path along smooth, pale skin.

Limbs that seemed to go on and on for days — filling out to thighs that were soon hidden from view beneath sparkle.

The dress she wore did nothing but accentuate her curves; dips and valleys that filled out an enticing figure.

Sakura's slender neck supported her head as it cocked to the side, smiling at whatever some teen girl in front of her said. And her green eyes crinkled in mirth as she let out a laugh, bringing the clear plastic cup to her lips for a drink.

Speculating if she always smiled that brightly for everyone.

Sasuke tore his gaze away, eyes landing on the DJ booth in the corner — the LED lights around the display throbbed to the beat of the track, playing across the speakers.

Like hell he’d be caught staring.

It wasn’t like they hadn’t just spent... what? The last two hours together? Getting everything ready for the party. He'd seen her then...

Same outfit…

Same smile…

Same god damn heels.

So what had changed? Could he not keep himself from finding her?

His eyes constantly tracking her, flickering to trace her migration around the open space.

Even when he caught himself it wasn't enough to stop the cycle from repeating. His eyes would be lowered, idly scanning the party, not focused on anything in particular.

Then...

A flash of sequins before his eyes would settle on that little black bow.

Wasn't that the textbook definition of insanity? Doing the same thing over and over and expecting different results?

Sasuke's mind didn't pass along that bit of information to the rest of his body. Instead, his eyes would start the trek all over again, his avaricious gaze taking her in before cutting away.

Seeking out a distraction, he leaned against the expansive window behind him.

The tempered glass usually flooded the suite with natural light during the day. Now, it hummed against his back, miniature vibrations warbling along the surface from the tracks deep base. And it felt cool against him as he sighed.

Taking another swing of beer, Sasuke hoped the warm sensation he felt didn't spread to his face. But at least he could make it appear the fault of alcohol and not the salacious thoughts starting to run rampant in his mind.

Like...

If the rest of her was as soft as the skin on her inner wrist was. The pad of his thumb had brushed against it when he had passed something to her earlier. And watching now, at the exposed skin her dress didn’t cover...

Damn him if it certainly didn't look the part. He would only need a few seconds to graze his hands across the perceived silkiness to know the answer.

Lowering the amber bottle, he swallowed thickly, sighing after. A quick look at his watch had him quickly releasing another one, wondering again why he was still there. Glancing over his shoulder at the snow-covered streets below, a minute passed — before a prickling behind his ear caught his attention.

He was being watched.

Everything around them started to fade away when his eyes suddenly met hers. Twinkling stars locked onto his own, piercing through the smoky haze around them, her focus solely on him. And suddenly, Sasuke's mouth was no longer satisfied with the bitter taste of alcohol.

No...

He was craving something else entirely.

And as he moved closer—

His vision completely went white.

And like coming up for air after treading murky waters, he broke through the surface and was brought back to the present… somewhat painfully .

Surely, the sound of flesh meeting leather must have been heard during the impact. But his brain only registered the sound after as it echoed in his mind.

Then there was the ringing.

Lots and lots of ringing.

Ka-KLUMP-PAK!

whoooo-sh...

THUD.

...

"........... -ke? "

He could have sworn that the saying went: you were supposed to see stars.

Not feel them.

' Oh shit that hurt .'

"...... -uke ? Sasuke ?! Are you alright?"

' Fucking stars. '

"Sasuke...?"

And fuck him and his own negligence for not seeing that coming.

The ringing in his left ear dimmed low enough that he was finally able to hear the question. Blinking back the few spots that danced behind his eyelids, Sasuke grunted, pushing away the hands waving in front of his face. When there were no longer four eyes blinking down at him, he rose to sit up.

The boxing gloves that had been strapped to Itachi's hands were now lying between them, his profile relaxing though remaining in its hunched form.

"You were supposed to dodge the second hook. I pulled back but it was too late." He fussed over him again, but Sasuke batted away the concern, sitting up fully when the ringing in his ear finally disappeared.

He felt a trail of moisture slide down his temple but breathed a sigh of relief, realizing that it was only sweat. He still counted his blessings though, thankful it wasn't his brother's leg that flew at him instead. If it was, his head would have been knocked clean from his shoulders.

Sasuke removed the padded mitts he wore, tearing at the velcro with his perfect white teeth — more embarrassed than hurt. His brother had dangerously quick hands, and he should have known better than to allow his mind to wander when they were in the middle of sparring.

"Where were you?" the elder asked, mirroring his unspoken thoughts while moving away to grab them water from the kitchen.

'So he's going to call me out after all...'

Sasuke huffed, choosing to stay seated on the mat below the hanging punching bag. He slowly worked his jaw open and closed a few times, rotating the Temporomandibular Joint.

Good... nothing was broken.

"Nowhere." Sasuke deadpanned, feeling along the curve for swelling.

Itachi raised a brow at him as he passed him the chilled bottle. Knowing where further questioning would lead to, he pivoted to another topic.

"I see your temporary house guest is no longer here..."

Taking a much-needed sip, Sasuke began to explain what had transpired. Of how he had gotten Sakura to facilitate Akamaru’s return, along with agreeing to a few terms.

Terms that were presented more as a... suggestion, of course. Maybe gather a little information while she was there if she could?

He took full advantage of her gentle disposition, to coax her a little. Anything to help seal the deal.

And when it was all said and done, they parted ways with an agreement in place.

Sasuke didn't realize the amount of silence that stretched between them until he looked up, catching his brother’s stare. Keen orbs continued to study him, inky depths watching...

Causing his own brows to snap together.

"What?"

"........"

The corner of his brother's mouth twitched, deep lines appearing across his face before smoothing again.

" What? "

Sasuke didn't want to repeat himself, but the silence had struck a nerve. It brought back memories of when they were younger and how he felt whenever he was overlooked, ignored, or even excluded from certain things.

Being an adult now, he could understand why things were handled the way they were and he harbored no resentment. However, that didn't stop the feelings from returning every now and again and bringing him back to the times when he used to be shooed away.

Itachi never bothered to take the time to explain anything, because Sasuke was too young at the time. No one around had felt the need to, back then.

And then there were the other occurrences, where he'd be left with nothing more than a whisper of— "Next time, Sasuke."

As fleeting as it came, the memories all disappeared when Itachi finally caved.

Learning lessons from the past, Itachi saw no reason to get Sasuke unnecessarily riled up.

"Nothing."

It would have been convincing, too... if they hadn't known each other so well.

Resisting the urge to roll his eyes, Sasuke leaned back on his elbows, his damp shirt stretching across his torso. He dragged his water bottle with him as a fresh breeze stirred across the loft from an open window.

"Just spit it out already. You can either say it now and get it over with. Or later..." His nose twisted as if he was going to sneeze.

"...no doubt in some cryptic way. Do us both a favor and spare me the hassle," Sasuke ended boldly, taking another swig and draining the bottle below the halfway mark.

It took some time, but pointing out the obvious had its desired effect and Itachi finally asked what had been on his mind.

What came was an inquiry about the woman — whose name, he'd noticed; was always spoken with a certain... tone .

Was there something going on that he should know about?

And since Itachi had avoided using a condescending tone when asking the question, the prodding managed to disarm him.

"Nothing..." Sasuke answered; slate-colored eyes drifting as his brother moved to sit near him. Breaking eye contact, a few of his fingers pressed into the padded mat underneath them.

"... at least, not yet?"

He always did find it difficult to keep things from his brother.

Itachi could have easily sprained his wrist while sitting; his weight careening with a jolt at the quiet admission. He recovered well enough, sitting down fully and eyeing his younger brother with veiled surprise.

And for a while, the only sound in the room came from the jingling chains holding up the punching bag, as it drifted in small circles near them.

Sasuke finally gathered the courage to glance up, but his brother's eyes were peering outside, deep in thought.

The sunlight kissed Itachi's low ponytail, gathered across one shoulder and his umber touched gaze looked far away.

The question surprised him when his lips suddenly moved.

"You like this girl, Sasuke?"

He wasn't sure why, but he flinched.

What was he supposed to say, Sasuke thought as his teeth pinched the inside of his bottom lip. The tip of his tongue could almost feel the impression left by Sakura's teeth from their last kiss. The ghost of the intimate touch came to mind at the most inopportune time.

Did they really have to get into this when he still couldn't find the right words to describe what was happening between him and Sakura? It was all just one big ball of complication as far as Sasuke was concerned.

An intricate web, twisting with many threads of complexity...

With the label of 'friends ,' not quite fitting...

And it was far too soon to be thinking about ‘love’ ...

But 'just fucking' was too crude, and there was an interest there beyond the physical — as nice as that was.

A string of fate that seemed to constantly pluck at his attention whenever she was near, while driving him to distraction when she wasn't.

And it was comical and annoying at the same damn time. And, well...

Ah fuck , he'd asked for this, didn't he? Him and his big mouth.

"I-..." Sasuke hesitated, blinking in contemplation before trying again. "What I mean is-"

Long fingers wrapped in protective white tape lifted. Two digits extended to brush against Sasuke's forehead, effectively cutting him off.

"I just want you to be mindful." A sharp gaze fixated onto his own, and even though he took a breath to respond — his brother's gentle smile gave him pause.

"I also want you to be happy," he continued, lips curving into a knowing grin.

Rising from the mat with a stretch, Itachi made his way down the hall towards the bathroom, leaving his younger sibling alone with his thoughts. He also ignored the small frown zeroing in on his retreating back.

Sasuke slowly shook his head, following the figure of his brother until he disappeared around the corner.

Whatever surprise that lingered was quickly overshadowed with something else as he gulped down another drink of water.

An unexpected flare of delight engulfed him as he slowly returned his brother's grin...

And there was only the empty room left to witness the handsome sight of Sasuke's dimple — a rare, but genuine smile pursing his lips at the unclouded approval he'd just received.

✧ ･ﾟ * : * ﾟ･ ✧

"Is that the last of it? What about that other set in the back?" one mover asked the other as they stood near the rear of the box truck.

"The dresser with the mirror? Nah, that's going to a couple in Bethesda. That's our next stop. Here, take this when you go up and drop that off. She already tipped us... just get them to sign," the driver told him, closing the rolling door when he jumped down from the back of the vehicle.

The clipboard was placed on top of the sealed, brown box the taller mover was already carrying in his arms.

Making sure it was perfectly balanced in his hands, he turned to go up the freight elevator... making one last and final trip.

The front doors to the newly leased space were still propped open, and he placed the box down, just inside the sizable foyer.

"This is the last one," he called out, his russet eyes scanning the invoice, looking for the client’s name. "We just need an autograph from Ms.-... ah-."

"I'll do it!"

There was a conscious effort not to look down at the exposed legs of the young blonde as she came bounding towards him, hips swaying in a pair of forest green cotton shorts.

He also did his best not to stare at the: 'I love cock' written in graffiti font on her shirt — and the word 'tails' stamped right below it in smaller print.

Though slightly crude, the tongue-in-cheek message had made him chuckle most of the afternoon while he was working.

Ino smiled brightly, nibbling on the capped pen while her eyes took their time to locate the signature line.

Tugging on the brim of his hat, the helper began to calculate his chance of success in scoring her number. And in turn go completely against company policy.

His opportunity to risk it all was interrupted when the owner of the suite appeared from around a corner.

Sakura shooed the golden femme away, signing the papers instead. She thrust the paperwork back in his hands after thanking him.

Mouthing a quick 'sorry,' Sakura apologized for the actions of her all-too-flirtatious friend.

The company had done an amazing job and had earned the positive review she'd leave.

Ino twirled away to retrieve a stash — hidden earlier on the built-in shelf, snagging a lighter as well. Turning, she climbed over the back of the sofa.

The hand holding the bright red plastic waved in their general direction.

"We really can't thank you enough. Did you guys have to train to be so amazing?" Ino climbed down with a purr and a wink, still flirting as she settled on the floor.

Sakura let out a nervous giggle, ushering the smitten guy out the front doors.

"Is there anyone who is spared from your relentless-... philandering ?" She huffed, unlatching the mechanism holding both doors open, closing them tightly.

Really, her friend could be so embarrassing sometimes.

"What can I say? I love a man in uniform. Besides, I left them alone for most of the afternoon… you should be thanking me." Ino twisted the grinder in her hands, her spine resting against the front of the large sectional.

Sakura slowly came over to stretch out behind her, laying down on her stomach. Sinking into the cushions, she felt the tension slowly release from her overworked muscles.

Despite any possible... sexual harassment lawsuits, she was glad her bestie was there lending a helping hand. Moving was always a grueling task, so any help was appreciated. She'd even done some manual labor when she helped Sakura paint a room back at her old apartment.

Leaving the place in immaculate condition scored her most of the security deposit back. Her comrade teased that it was unfair and that the only reason she did was that the place was barely lived in.

"I'm just glad it's all done." Sakura mumbled from her sprawled position, her sweat pants resting dangerously low on her hips. They were already rolled down twice at the waist, and now a bit of blue cotton peeked from underneath.

Ino paused, oceanic eyes spanning the layout. One eyebrow pinched inward after taking in the bare dwelling.

"I wouldn't exactly call this... 'done,' Forehead. You have your bed and this monstrous couch. Other than that, you really need to get this place decorated."

'Let the nit-picking begin.'

"Yeah, yeah..." Sakura mumbled around a throw pillow, her face still buried in softness. "I'll order a bunch of stuff later."

There were three different flavors of frozen yogurt chilling in the freezer. And her books and medical journals were unpacked and stored away. As far as she was concerned, everything else could wait.

Ino wasn't convinced but instead concentrated on rolling the canappa before her, grunting at the stickiness.

They still had to officially 'bless the house,' after all.

Sakura turned towards her, raising a hand to cradle her head, cheeks still pink from burrowing into the pillow. It was only when she was spaced out that a particular thought drifted back to the forefront of her mind.

And with all the bustle from today, there hadn't been a quiet moment up until now, to bring it up.

"Did that guy ever call back again?"

As it turned out, Tsume wasn't kidding when she said someone was looking into Kiba's disappearance.

A private investigator reached out to her, asking a series of questions. Sakura told him exactly what she'd already shared, her story and timelines never changing. Not that there was much to tell.

Afterward, she'd given her best friend a heads up, instincts warning that she'd be next.

Much later he did get ahold of Ino, though, she had very little to say. Her answers were similar to Sakura's, as they'd both lost contact with Kiba around the same time.

And she made it clear that she didn't know anything beyond that.

Licking her lips, Ino brought a knee up to her chest, her sock covered foot dragging across the throw rug while she remained mindful of the low table in front of her.

"After the first time? No."

She then extended her tongue to wet the ends of paper as she expertly rolled the joint. Humming in affirmation, she eyed her handy work.

"He was a pushy bastard though. When you talked to him, did you tell him anything? Maybe let something slip you shouldn't have?"

Sakura sat up in surprise.

"What? No..." She shook her head although the blonde was still facing forward, away from her.

An eerie feeling ricocheted in her tummy.

"D-... did you?"

Ino snorted, flicking bits of grass from her nail bed. "I should have," she murmured.

"Ino!"

She was just being a bitch, but it's what she did when she felt annoyed... agitated .

"To be honest, I'm not getting a good feeling about any of it. Not to mention... a P.I. coming around? Asking questions? This is getting to be a bit much."

What's next?

The police?

It was not a good look to have a bunch of authorities hanging about, despite the reason for their presence.

"I know..." Sakura began, the cushions shifting under her movements. "I don't like any of this either... but even Sasuke-"

The blonde spun around so fast she feared whiplash. Sparks of contention lit the glare Ino threw her way.

"We don't know him, Sakura!"

When she yelled, it surprised them both, their eyes wide and staring. It hadn’t been on purpose. Of course it hadn’t been, and Ino couldn't remember the last time she'd been so quick to snap.

So, after taking a much-needed breath, the apology floated in the air between them.

But not for what she said .

No...

She'd meant that.

But… for the way she said it? Maybe she was a bit too harsh. She regretted it the moment it left her lips, so she made another attempt to apologize, keeping her voice even and much calmer.

"We don't know him. Now, I'm not saying he's a bad guy or anything, but he's Kiba's friend..." Ino stressed, "not ours . I think he's cool and all, but we need to think with our heads here, and not with..."

Her eyes lowered to Sakura's lap, hearing the sharp intake of breath when the seated girl immediately stiffened with indignation.

"I'm not!" Sakura tried to defend herself. And if her leg wasn't twisted beneath her body she would have snapped her legs shut.

'Guilty, much?'

"Then we need to think smart. I don’t know about you, but I can't be seen mixed up with anything shady. Having some private eye sniffing around is a no-go for me."

Ino turned back to the low table in front of her, her thumb rolling over the spark wheel twice, before the lighter flickered to life.

Sakura sighed, shoulders dropping as she just let it go. She looked instead to the beautiful vase of flowers sitting close by.

The arrangement of orange roses, honeysuckle — and a few other things she couldn't name were sorted together.

It was a beautiful house warming gift from Ino, and she appreciated the floral scent as it drifted through the air. But she knew even its sweet smell wouldn't stand a chance against the thick haze that was sure to come.

Sakura rolled to her feet, moving around her friend to approach the veranda door to crack it open. Nudging it slightly, she felt the crisp breeze charming its way past the small opening and into the room.

Ino continued her musings on an exhale, swirls of grey, blueish smoke wafting towards the darkened recessed lighting above.

"Sasuke was right about one thing, though..."

She stood up, approaching her friend from behind and passing along the lit herb. "We should stay out of it. Besides, someone is looking for him... his family has it covered."

Darting off to find an ashtray, she left the pink-haired woman to lean against the glass with her private thoughts, gazing at the skyline beyond the metal railings of her patio.

Taking a long drag, Sakura hoped the calming effects would kick in soon and burn away her lingering restlessness.

Everyone, it seemed, was just shying the Kiba issue away or even brushing it all aside. And it made her feel so damn torn inside.

Reaching around, she patted herself down, feeling around for her phone.

Oh, she knew what was going to happen... but she went for it anyway.

There wasn't a choice, was there? Besides, she was nothing if not steadfast.

And while fully aware of what was going to happen once she pressed 'SEND', Sakura didn't hesitate.

Her rather nimble fingers typed away, making another attempt to at least... try to do something.

Message:

Just let me know you're ok...

Please?

Sakura's hand reached up to remove the joint from her lips, holding her breath with a deep inhale as she re-read the note again.

Sending out the text, she slowly blew out a trail of smoke.

A familiar notification sound cackled in the air as the last cloud left her peach-stained lips. And her eyes caught sight of what showed up on the screen.

The message was undeliverable.

Just like the previous dozen she'd sent before that.

Some of the messages she sent were laced with concern, others spewing threats of sterilization. She quickly discovered that anything sent out was shortly returned after bouncing through mobile data and Wifi signals.

All of her messages went unanswered.

But whatever disappointment or irritation she felt was quickly tempered down as conflict echoed in her mind.

"'...-e.'"

Because wasn't this the same thing she'd done in the past? Completely ghosting everyone close to her?

Absconding without a care in the world, regardless of who it might hurt, or what it could affect?

Sakura had exhibited the same pattern of behavior herself a while ago. And at her worst, she had gone days without responding, keeping her distance.

"'...-ite.'"

The memories surfaced like the smoke drifting past her face as she took another hit, contemplating just how much it sucked... being on the other side now.

"'...-rite.'"

Ino returned, handing Sakura the found ashtray while quickly plucking the weed from her aloof grip. Humming a tune, she went over to go see about playing some music.

But Sakura stayed put, unable to shake the word that haunted her mind.

One that felt weighted like the heavy crystal she held in her grasp. Looking down, she caught the way a few rainbows appeared with every deviation of the ashtray, and every time a flash of color reflected she imagined a voice whispering in cool, mocking tones inside of her head.

"'...-crite.'"

Taunting all the emotions echoing through her, even as she accepted the bitter truth in the word, repeating over and over again...

"'Hypocrite.'"

✧ ･ﾟ * : * ﾟ･ ✧

" The sky is clear and you can see for miles across the grasslands. But as easy as she could look beyond the Serengeti, she could just as easily be spotted.

Shoulders hunched low, the lioness hugs her body close to the ground. Blending in among the straw-colored grass... she inches her way closer. She must eliminate as much distance between her and the intended prey before launching her attack. Her sisters are in tune with her, circling the herd on either side, bellies low to the ground as they stalk closer.

The pack has not eaten for days, and this may be their last chance before the grazing animals migrate north and out of their territory. There are plenty of mouths to feed back at the den and a few hungry cubs who will not survive the rest of the season without a steady supply of food."

The prone figure nibbled on the last of his fish cake sandwich, his heavy boots hanging off the edge of the loveseat. His large frame laid sideways on the furniture, leaning against the armrest as he watched the clip on his screen.

He always was a fan of a good old-fashioned hunt. There were just some things in life, that only Mother Nature could do with such... finesse .

You could learn a lot if you sat back and watched her work.

"The wildebeests were on alert, taking turns to raise their heads to keep on the lookout."

He listened to the thick, South African accent as it narrated the encounter playing on the phone. The screen zoomed in as long blades of grass hung from the wildebeests’ chewing mouths while they kept an eye on the young calves. Soon, the camera panned out to show how close the hunters had gotten.

"It is far too late to be overly cautious now. The lioness and her sisters were in striking range and had only to pick their target.

Digging their long claws into the heated dirt below, they sprint across the plain.

The chase was on..."

His phone suddenly chirped, and a notification for a new message appeared at the top.

The man’s narrowing squint flickered up but quickly went back to the action.

The screen flashed to the pounding of hooves kicking up clouds of dry dirt. And he focused, excited to watch what happened next.

"The ground vibrates as the herd stampede away, now catching sight of the fawn and black death machines barreling towards them. The chaos is enough for one to lose its footing, one back leg twisting beneath its lumbering body."

The front hooves clambered against the ground while the frightened animal tried to gain leverage, but it was too late.

"The seasoned lioness is there in a blink, ready to capitalize on the last mistake the prey would ever make in its life."

Slow-motion captured the way the lioness’s claws hooked into the large antelope, trying to gain purchase as her jaws opened wide across the prey’s neck.

The beast finally got to all four hooves just in time to feel the weight of another lioness as she bit at its spine, her body hanging from its rear.

Losing strength and blood, the scared animal let out a long moan as the lions worked together to bring it down. A third lioness bit at its heels and soon the pressure was enough. A billow of dirt rose in the air as all of their combined weight crashed to the dusty, hot earth below.

The narrator's voice decreased in volume once again, as another message notification came through — the rhythmic beeping much louder than the nature video, still playing on the screen in full-screen mode.

Sighing, the man sat up straighter, swinging his legs to the floor to check.

Message:

Any updates?

Message:

Or has this been a waste of time?

'Damn.'

And the documentary special was starting to get to the good parts too. Locking the screen, he stood tall in a stretch, straightening the henley shirt he wore and trudged to the adjoining room.

The small apartment was oftentimes used as a temporary working space. Although rarely used for the more... messy parts of their job, it was quite convenient for quick meetups. And with the newest development, it made for a well suited temporary office.

Located just behind a deli, but with a hidden entrance and secured parking, it had only made the best sense to set up shop here, for now.

The next room was much darker with the blinds drawn the way they were, but multiple computer monitors glared with artificial light as the man came to stand behind the seated teen. A pretty penny had gone into the elaborate setup — more than a few parts couldn’t be bought in just any store.

There were a few programs open that he was familiar with while scanning the screens, but most he was not.

And as intelligent as the man thought himself to be, he would never presume to understand what any of the letter and number combinations meant, trailing across the monitor on the left.

"Looks like you are up and running. What's the status?"

"I think I've found a way in," Chef replied, his eyes never leaving the screens as he typed away. His favorite song had just begun to play in his ear, and he was seconds away from turning it up before the guy showed up behind him.

" Think ?" The man's arms folded and his lips melted into a frown.

"Yeah. What? I can't go back and get in the same way I did before, my dude. They've already patched that shit. I also don't want to set off any alarms. Gotta be sneaky," Chef offered in a huff.

Besides, he'd already tried the old route and got locked out. But when inside before, he had discovered some other cracks — and hoped to take advantage of one of them now.

"But you can do it?"

"Yeah. I can do it."

The teen went back to work when he felt the figure move away, turning up the volume to catch the tail end of his song. This was exactly why he never took up private offers before. But... the money should be worth having to deal with someone breathing down his neck, in the end.

The man turned away, sheathing the hidden knife back into its pouch in silence, leaving the room just as quietly as he entered. Hopefully, the teens’ confidence would produce some good results... and soon.

A real shame too, that he didn't know...

His very life depended on it.

✧･ﾟ* : *ﾟ･✧

He was counting stacks of collected funds in his living room when one of his phones went off.

With their associate still missing, Itachi gave Sasuke the task of fulfilling a few orders and handling some assignments. He'd been on the run for the last few days, completing transactions that were left to be done in Kiba's absence. Just because he was missing didn't mean the business stopped and even grunt work needed to be seen to.

He'd used the opportunity to do a little digging on said person's disappearance, but not finding satisfactory answers left him feeling a little perturbed.

He had been in a sour mood as of late and could think of nothing that might turn things around.

So seeing her initials flash across his chirping phone's screen was bittersweet — he couldn’t tell whether Sakura calling him at this very moment was a good thing or not.

There hadn't been a chance for him to reach out to her. Though, no matter how busy he was, he knew he should have found the time.

And maybe a part of him was feeling guilty for only texting a few things in the last few days...

But she had his number too, damnit. He had made sure of it when he physically saved it on her phone the last time they were together.

It was a personal number that not too many people had access to, at that.

She could have easily called sooner too, but that was neither here nor there.

Maybe her voice would be the ray of sunshine needed in the otherwise shithole-pit-of-darkness his mood had been sinking into.

"Hello?"

Sasuke's voice was unhurried and a little scratchy — coming out husky after not being used for the last two hours since he'd gotten home and showered. He thought he might be coming down with something and made a mental note to drink some hot tea later.

In the future, Sakura will share with him just how much his voice alone could make her feel sometimes — even when heard over the phone. No way she could tell him that right now, though. There was too much power in that bit of information and she resisted the urge to clear her own throat, hoping the whimsical flutters would go away soon.

" Sasuke... "

Maybe one day — around the same time, Sasuke would finally admit how fond he was of hearing her say his name, regardless of its nature or the mood.

Nonetheless, an eyebrow hitched as he wrapped a thick wad of bills with a beige rubber band.

"What? Did you misdial or something...?"

If the answer was yes he wasn't sure he could handle it — not with how this week was going.

But she said no, and he could just see the smile on her face when she released a small laugh. He imagined the soft, cupids bow he could still remember the feel of... if he tried.

Maybe it was a good thing she called, after all. Even after a bit of chatter, he could already feel some of the day's tension releasing from his moody form.

" Actually, the reason I'm calling was... "

Why haven't you called?

Why haven't you taken me out on a proper date yet?

Already he could hear that — and the other half-dozen questions, all in his mind before she finished.

He could almost feel his answers forming, and hoped they wouldn't sound like excuses when he said them out loud. Because... damnit, he'd been meaning to see a bit more of her. But with everything going on-

" -I... well, actually, Kankurō wanted to know if you were coming to his birthday party? He said you already received his invitation. And his order, which — by the way, I won't even ask what's on that list ."

She trailed off but picked back up with a giggle.

" Anyway, he wanted to make sure you didn't forget, and were going to be there. "

Wait.

What?

Having the question ring inside of his mind was not enough, and his mouth opened to express the dumbfounded stutter his brain felt.

"What?"

She'd called him only... for that ?

It's all anyone was talking about, she said; oblivious with his disappointment. Sasuke listened as his hands slowed down to a full stop, trying to keep the frown at bay.

After the last few — irritating days he's had...

That's the reason they were finally speaking?

Kankurō ?

Maybe talking when he was in low spirits wasn't the best idea after all. Something in his clipped tone must have given him away because after a bit of silence she hesitantly asked.

" Is everything ok? You sound a bit... distracted? "

"Yes."

'No.'

Bloody hell, that's not what he'd meant. No... it is what he meant, but he didn't mean to say it like that-

"Just finishing up something."

" Oh ..."

'Fuck.'

Things were quickly spinning out of control and he needed to figure out a way to salvage it.

Or just end it... before he said something completely Sasuke like, and ruined it for everybody.

"Oh... well, it sounds like this is a bad time. I'm sorry-"

"Don't be-"

' Gentle ... you idiot, nicer!? '

"-I mean, it's fine." Sasuke continued after the slight pause.

Ok, so that wasn't much better and he winced when a rubber band popped, stinging his hand before reaching for another one.

Sakura waited a beat but wasn't convinced. " Ok... well, I guess I'll see you there? Sorry to disturb you."

Sasuke fumbled with the phone for a second yet wasn't quick enough to stop her from ending the call, and he sat there after feeling like he just dropped the ball in a major way.

He groaned, dropping everything in his hands and grabbing at his locks while sinking further into the sofa. It was no use trying to text her back because even he knew when to cut his losses.

At least no one was there to witness the embarrassment... but he could hear the guffaw his cousin Shisui would have released if he could see him now.

'Real smooth, Uchiha... real smooth.'

End Chapter

✧ ･ﾟ * : * ﾟ･ ✧

#sasusaku #sakusasu #ssfanfiction #sasusaku fanfics #ss fic

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monstersandmaw · 5 years ago

Text

Embers - Male dragon shifter x reader, Chapter Five! (sfw)

So... this was supposed to go up on Friday but no one reminded me and I’m clearly not able to set a weekly reminder like an actual adult.

Hope you’re still enjoying this weekly series... Don’t forget to show me it some love if you are.

And I seem to have thrown my 'short chapters/800 words only' thing out of the window. This one is the longest so far, at 2455 words long. *rolls eyes at self*.

One, Two, Three, Four

An entire week passed without word from Mikaeïl. You had almost given up on the whole commission for this departmental murder mystery dinner, when one lunchtime your phone buzzed and you answered with barely a glance away from what you were doing. With a searingly important deadline looming for work, your stress levels were possibly at their highest since university finals, and you had been staring at the computer screen for what felt like days without a break.

“Yeah?” you barked, still tweaking the design while holding the phone with your other hand.

“It’s Mikaeïl,” came a surprisingly shy, male voice at the other end. “Is now a bad time?”

Your heart skipped a beat or two and you grinned despite the lingering frustration that the design wasn’t looking anywhere near ‘there’ yet. “No, not at all,” you smiled, “I’m at work, but I’d much rather talk to you.”

That seemed to fluster him a little, but he cleared his throat and said, “Well… I spoke with the department and showed them your preliminary design. They loved it and are very happy to commission you to do the posters for the event.”

“Fantastic!” you grinned, genuinely thrilled to have a more exiting project to work on than this steaming pile of minotaur shit currently sitting on your computer.

“I thought we might discuss it in more detail when you bring Celia over on Friday...” he said, his softly-articulated words doing odd things to your insides and heartbeat. You could imagine him standing amongst his hoard of plants, one arm folded protectively across his slim chest as he stood, ramrod straight, surveying the gardens beyond.

A second after that image had flashed through your mind, you realised that it wasn’t your turn to being Celia to her flute lesson that week. When you said as much, he sighed and said, “Never mind.”

“I mean... Celia doesn’t have to be my only reason to come over and see you, does she?” you asked playfully, doodling with the stylus on a new layer of the design. As you listened to him speak, his eyes began to stare out at you from the screen as you drew them, all distant and guarded, but glittering and somehow soft all the same.

“No,” he said slowly, the slight smile audible in his rich voice. “No, of course not. I’m rather busy with work this week, and I’m presenting a paper at a conference on Thursday, but if you’re alright to meet up in town instead during the week we could do that?”

“Stickybeaks?” you suggested, thinking of the cafe where you’d first met him.

He clearly along the same lines because he gave that sonorous chuckle that made your stomach churn pleasurably. “Perfect. What day suits you? I’m free most days after five, except this Thursday.”

“Friday?” you suggested. “I think Stickybeaks stays open til seven. We could have an early supper? That way you can tell me all about the conference too, if you like.”

“I wouldn’t want to bore you,” he said reflexively.

“Oh, I think you’d have to work quite hard to bore me. I’m really quite a curious person...”

There was something melancholic about the tone of his clipped response. “If you say so,” was all he said. “Well, Friday works well for me. Shall I meet you there at half past five? That will give me enough time to walk over from the department.”

“Perfect. Looking forward to it.”

A beat too late, he said with a slight crack in his voice, “So am I.”

You rushed out of work that Friday and ended up getting to the cafe way too early, so you got out your A3 sketch pad and started to draw a number of variations on the same theme that you’d doodled back at Mikaeïl’s house. When he stepped through the doorway at precisely 5.29pm, Mikaeïl glanced around, the lenses of his round glasses glinting in the low light, and when he saw you, the hard line of his tense shoulders eased just a little.

Mikaeïl nodded politely at Lidaë, who was fluttering around behind the counter as usual despite the fact that there weren’t all that many customers in at that time, and then he strode over to your place in the back corner. The pathway through the sleek, modern tables gave you the opportunity to admire the slender form of his body and the effortless grace with which he moved, almost like a dancer. Today he wore a butterscotch coloured trench coat, belted tightly at his slim waist over black skinny jeans, and his autumn-red hair was tied back in a sleek ponytail again, with the shorter sections at the front falling down to mask the full intensity of his bright golden eyes.

“Hey,” you said, half standing.

“I hope you haven’t been here long,” he said by way of a greeting and staring at your drawings again with that odd expression again.

“No, not really,” you said, awkwardly sitting back down again. “I finished work a bit earlier than usual and came straight here. I roughed out a few more designs for the poster anyway.”

“You’ve been here long enough to have finished your drink,” he said pointedly. “Can I get you another?”

You eyed your empty cup and then glanced at your watch. “I just turned in a major project that’s been bugging me for weeks,” you grinned. “I think I earned a grown up drink…”

He cocked his head slightly and the corner of his pretty mouth twitched ever so slightly to show his amusement. “Congratulations. And I think I might join you in that.”

By the time he returned, you’d shunted the sketch book to one side and once he’d set your drink down, he took his coat off to hang it on the back of his chair. It was a real effort not to stare at the beauty of his figure. Perhaps it was the artist in you, but you really noticed the strong, straight lines of his waist and thighs, his body clearly tightly corded with extremely lean muscle, and the elegant movements of his fingers as he worked the buttons of his coat.

When he was finished, he sat and shyly drew his ponytail over one shoulder, twisting the end of it between his fingertips and blinked softly at you. “What?” he asked in a breathy murmur.

“I… Uh…” you blushed, and settled on a bashful, “Nothing. Have you come straight from teaching?”

He nodded.

“Oh boy,” you laughed. “Your students must love you.”

“I can’t tell if you’re being sarcastic or not,” he said bluntly.

“I wasn’t,” you said, feeling a heat creeping up your neck. Did he seriously not have any idea how attractive he was? “Don’t take this the wrong way then,” you said, sipping your drink and letting the warmth of the alcohol ignite a little courage in you, “But if you were my professor, I’m not sure I’d get much learning done…”

“Then I’d be failing in my duties as a teacher…”

Damn but he was hard work.

“Never mind,” you said. “How did the conference go?”

“Very well, to my surprise,” he said, holding the stem of his wine glass as if it were a rare specimen rose. He inhaled the scent of the wine before drinking, and closed his eyes briefly as he savoured it. His throat worked and you watched his sharp Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed, and that newly-kindled heat in your cheeks flared a little hotter while blood rushed south away from your brain to somewhere a little less articulate.

“What was your paper on?” you managed to rasp.

He cleared his throat and swirled his wine absentmindedly around his glass. “It’s… hardly a dinner time conversation,” he said.

“What, because you study bodies and death?”

His golden gaze flicked up to meet yours. “Most people find it repulsive.”

“You’re searching for answers,” you said. “I’m sure you’re respectful about the way you treat the remains. What’s repulsive about that?”

Mikaeïl blinked, and then his hard, wary expression flickered to something a little gentler, bordering on relief. “Well, alright. I was presenting my preliminary findings on the use of MRI and CT scans to determine the presence of necromantic activity in long-dead remains…”

“That stuff shows up? Even centuries later?” you asked, instantly intrigued.

He made a side to side shake of his head. “That’s what I’m trying to find out. X-ray has been used in the past, but because any damage caused post-mortem usually presents exactly the same whether the person in question was truly alive or undead, it’s not always particularly accurate… I want to explore the use of other technology to explore the effects that necromantic magic in particular has on the body after the heart has ceased beating.”

“That’s awesome,” you breathed, and he smiled again. “Was it well received?” you asked tentatively.

“Yes, for the most part. Non-invasive examination is always preferable, so there was a deal of interest from others in the field. I even had a lich in the audience who was willing to undergo some testing, which was encouraging.”

“Did you study medicine at the university here?” you asked, and he nodded.

“Quite some while ago though,” he said. “I worked as a medical examiner for a long time.”

You frowned, and he read your next question in your eyes.

“I’m not as youthful as I look,” he said. “My kind is long lived. And before you ask, I’m just over two hundred and sixty.”

“Whoa…” Honestly, it wasn’t actually that much of a surprise, given how… ‘remote’ he seemed at times. A moment later you added with a wry smile, “You must have enjoyed watching the leaps and bounds that science has made then in the last hundred or so years! I’d love to witness something like that…”

“That’s…” he faltered into silence.

“What?”

Mikaeïl steepled his long, fingers and rested his lips against his index and middle fingertips, elbows resting on the table. “That’s… honestly not a reaction I’ve had before.”

“I don’t understand?”

With a dry chuckle, he said, “Most people - though the number is admittedly few - discover I’m old enough to be their ancestor, and they start to act strangely. Friendships have been hard to initiate, and even tougher to maintain, though I’m sure that’s partly due to my own…” he swallowed, apparently unsure of the word before settling on, “‘Quirks’.”

You shrugged. “It sucks, I’m sure, but anyone who doesn’t at least try to understand or get to know you is missing out, and probably isn’t worth the effort anyway, at least in my limited experience. Can I ask you another question though?”

As his lips hitched up on one side, he nodded. “Of course.” And with that, he seemed to relax a little more in your presence.

“Is it super rude of me to ask what you are? I had thought you were at least part tiefling, but that was literally just from the horns and the eyes.”

“A common misconception,” he said over the rim of his wineglass before he took another sip. “And one I usually let slide. But no, I am not any part tiefling. I am… my family is… that is to say…” He set his wine down, took off his glasses, and cleaned them with a little cloth that he drew from his top pocket while he said quietly, “We are dragon shifters. Wyvern, technically.”

You blinked in silence for a stunned moment. Dragon shifters were exceptionally rare these days, having been hunted ruthlessly for sport, mostly by orcs but also by humans, about five hundred years ago. They’d been massacred in droves almost to the point of extinction. “No way,” you finally breathed.

He acknowledged the truth with a brief pursing of his lips, and returned his glasses to his face. Tersely, he added, “Please don’t ask me to prove it here. I won’t fit into this corner of the cafe, and besides, shifting is a huge inconvenience to say the very least.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” you said hastily. “I’m just… amazed? Surprised? Honoured?”

Mikaeïl deftly and promptly steered the conversation onto your drawings and drafts after that, and you allowed him to slide the limelight onto you. Clearly an intensely private individual, Mikaeïl had just honoured you with the truth about himself, and, curious as you were about what he might look like in his wyvern form, you respected his gift by focusing on the real reason you were there. This was not a date after all, no matter how much you wished it were.

Despite that fact, however, it was five minutes before closing time when Lidaë flitted over to you, her iridescent hummingbird’s plumage shimmering, and politely asked if you’d mind wrapping up so she could close up her cafe.

Mikaeïl startled from your conversation as if he’d suffered an electric shock. “I’m so sorry, Lidaë,” he said, standing abruptly and pushing his chair back with a decidedly ungraceful scrape on the wooden floorboards. “I had no idea it was so late.”

She patted his arm fondly and shook her head. “Never you mind, my lovely. I’m glad to see you having such a good evening.”

For the first time since you’d met him, his pale cheeks flushed and he glanced briefly at you before fumbling to pick up his coat. Once he’d slid it on, he fished out his wallet and insisted that he pay for everything.

Outside, with your bag packed and a design finalised, you looked up at him and he turned his deep, golden eyes on you. In the light from the street lamps overhead, his yellow eyes reflected the soft glow in a decidedly inhuman way, and you felt something stirring inside you again.

Feeling perhaps a little uncharacteristically bold, you reached for his shoulders, took them gently in your hands, and leaned in to kiss his smooth, cool cheek. As you withdrew, you saw that he’d gone rigid, his eyes wide with surprise. Allowing yourself a small giggle at his expense, you grinned at him.

“I’ll bring the finished design with me when I bring Celia over next Friday, if that’s ok.”

“Mmhmm,” he hummed softly.

“Looking forward to it,” you said. “And thank you again for supper.”

“My pleasure,” he croaked, bowing his head. “Sincerely.”

Tossing a final grin and a wave his way, you walked off down the street, leaving him standing there, and when you glanced back, you saw that he was walking away in the opposite direction, his fingertips just brushing his cheek where your lips had kissed his skin.

To be continued next Friday! (don’t let me forget!)

—

I really hope you folks enjoyed this one! Don’t forget to let me know if you did enjoy it by leaving a like and/or reblogging it!

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#exophilia #dragon shifter #dragon #dragon x reader #dragon shifter x reader #weekly story #weekly series

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neerasrealm · 4 years ago

Note

I am enabling you

BAND AU BAND AU. SO GLAD I GET TO WRITE ABT THIS YEEEEEEE i kinda lost motivation towards the end but dfvsdgfhsd its fiiiiine. i got a couple more ideas for this au so...expect a couple more fics?? maybe??

Jason wasn’t sure if he could call the room a ‘practice room’. It felt more like a lounge. The walls were checkered with soundproof foam in places, as was the floor. There were also a lot of things hanging up on the walls. Posters of various rock bands and cult classic movies, all framed of course. The room was littered with instruments. Guitars, basses, a keyboard, a drumset, microphones- any instrument one could need, it was there. But there was also a lot of comfy furniture. Bean bags, a couple armchairs that had been dragged out of the trash, and of course, the old reliable sofa. It was stained and the springs were starting to break, but it was comfy, and Jason was quite happy lounging across it. He kicked his foot calmly in time to the beat of the music quietly playing from his boyfriend’s record player. He sighed and glanced over at the boyfriend in question. His name was Zalgo, and he had copper-brown skin and fluffy brown hair that was dyed red at the tips. Tattoos swirled up his arms and another stretched across his neck. He was covered in piercings too. His ears, his nose, a couple on his eyebrows, even a snakebite on his lower lip. His eyes were closed, and he was lounging in a big bean bag, a weed joint clenched between his teeth.

‘’They’re late again.’’ he murmured.

‘’Nnh?’’ the joint flicked upward as Zalgo grunted.

‘’The girls. We were supposed to have a practice session,’’ he looked down at the watch on his wrist. ‘’Twenty minutes ago.’’

‘’Mmmh…’’ Zalgo shifted in the bean bag, then abruptly jumped up in a startlingly quick movement. He stretched and groaned, then pulled the joint out of his mouth, smacking his dry lips. He looked over at Jason. He was wearing contacts again. These ones were golden and bright, and accentuated how...alluring, his gaze could be. His mouth curled up into a small grin. ‘’Just means more time for you and me.’’ he murmured as he walked slowly over to the couch where Jason sat. The redhead smirked at him as he leaned down toward him.

‘’...You’re getting old.’’ Jason murmured before shoving Zalgo’s face away. The other man groaned and swatted at him before breaking into laughs.

‘’I am not! I am just as cool and as sexy as senior year! Girls love me!’’

‘’You’re gay, Zalgo. And almost thirty.’’

‘’Hmph.’’ Zalgo puts his hands on his hips, pouting. Jason looked him over for a long moment. Zalgo had certainly kept his style from highschool. He wore a loose cut black tank top with a metal band’s logo on it. The neck was low, exposing his collar and the necklaces he wore around his neck. He was also wearing black ripped jeans with a studded belt with chains hanging off it. Almost every finger on his hand was decorated with a ring shiny ring. He was attractive, and carried himself with a confident flare only he could pull off. Jason could never pull that off. Showing so much skin, playing with makeup- it wasn’t his thing. He stuck with classic jeans, button-ups and ties with sneakers. Simple, yes, but it worked for him. And somehow Zalgo thought he was handsome enough to have dated him for over ten years. Jason smiled a bit and settled back in his seat.

‘’Do you...want to sit down?’’ he asked slowly. Zalgo looked down at him and grinned. He moved to lay down beside Jason, but the redhead put his hand on his chest and stopped him. ‘’...give me the joint first.’’

Zalgo huffed and rolled his eyes. He handed his boyfriend the joint and lay down, snuggling up against Jason as he took a drag of the joint. He sighed out, smoke blowing from his mouth. Zalgo looked up at him, watching him calmly. He reached up and caressed the other male’s jawline. ‘’...anyone ever tell you you’re fucking beautiful?’’

‘’No, my mother didn’t love me.’’

‘’PFFFFFT-’’ Zalgo wheezed loudly, bursting into loud cackles of amusement. Jason smiled and laughed gently. They were so distracted with just laughing on the couch like a couple of stupid dumb teens that they didn’t hear the front door being opened. They did however, hear it being slammed shut without warning, and it scared Zalgo so bad he fell off the couch with a yelp. The two stared at each other as they heard voices in the front hall downstairs. Zalgo grinned and rolled over onto his stomach, listening intently to the sound of footsteps coming up the stairs toward them. Zalgo skittered across the room and pressed himself against the wall beside the door.

Jason took a drag of the joint and watched the door, which was quickly and violently kicked open.

"WHAT THE FUCK IS UP KYLE?!"

He blew smoke out of his mouth. "Hello Natalie." He greeted calmly. Natalie was a short girl, with long caramel hair and tanned skin. Her eyes were bright and green, and she grinned wide at him. She was dressed in a denim jacket that hung off her shoulders, along with a white Guns N' Roses t-shirt and ripped navy jeans. As she waved her hands excitedly Jason could see the watch around her wrist glint in the light. A birthday gift he'd given her a few years ago.

"There you are!" Zalgo lunged out from behind the door and yanked his niece into a tight bear hug. She squealed and battered her fists against him, making the both of them giggle. Jason glanced over at the door and noticed a girl he'd never seen before, standing there looking around anxiously.

She had curly ginger hair and wore a simple green jacket with denim jeans. She was shorter than Natalie, who was short enough for a seventeen year old already. When she caught Jason's gaze she smiled nervously and waved a bit. Her smile quickly dropped however when she noticed the joint in Jason's hand. He glanced at it, then reached over and snuffed it out in the ashtray on the end table beside him. Zalgo would probably be mad about him wasting good weed later, but he didn't really care.

"This a friend of yours, Natalie?" The redhead asked as he sat up on the couch.

"This is Alice." Said a tall girl as she walked into the room and leaned against the doorway. Her name was Jane, and she was Natalie's girlfriend. She had dark skin, decorated with paler splotches in random places. She wore a long black dress with a leather jacket, fishnet gloves and tights, and platform boots that made a satisfying 'clunk' noise when she walked. Her hair was done up in braids, which were tied up in a pseudo ponytail. And she was also munching on a teacake that she'd definitely stolen from the kitchen. Jason glared at her.

"I told you to ask before taking those, y'know." He muttered. Jane shrugged and watched Natalie stumble out of the tight hug she'd been suffocating in. She turned to Alice with a grin and lunged over, slinging an arm over the smaller girl.

"This is Alice!" She said again. "She's part of the drama club in school. Really good singing voice!" She turned to the ginger girl. "Right? You're an amazing singer!"

"U-Um-" Alice rubbed at her arm anxiously. "I'm not...that good…" she mumbled, her head lowering. Jason softened as he looked at the poor, nervous girl.

"Nice to meet ya, Alice." Zalgo said gently. He walked over and crouched down, holding out his hand for her to shake. Alice stared at his arm.

"Your tattoos are so cool-" she blurted. She immediately slapped her hands over her mouth, wincing. Zalgo chuckled.

"Why thank you! I'm pretty proud of em myself." He said with a warm smile. "So you're Nat's friend?"

"I...guess," Alice rubbed at her arm again. "She uh- she said she wanted me to...join a band…? I-I dunno if I'm really cut out for that…"

Natalie shook her head and clamped her hand down on her shoulder. "Alice, I already told ya, your singing is incredible bro!" She leaned down and grinned at her. "Uncle Zalgo knows eeeverrryyythinggg about music. You just gotta impress him and you're in the band."

Alice looked at Zalgo. "You're...uncle Zalgo…?" She asked quietly, sounding even more scared. Zalgo nodded and stood up.

"Sure am." He gestured over at Jason. "That's Jason, by the way. He has a huge crush on me and sleeps in my bed. It's super embarrassing."

"Hey, you came out to me." Jason growled. Zalgo laughed.

"It's...nice to meet you, sirs." Alice murmured. Jason looked at her and smiled gently. He sat up on the couch so the others could sit down. Zalgo obliged, flopping himself down next to him with a soft grunt. Natalie was quick to join them, sitting on Zalgo's other side while Jane occupied the arm of the chair. That left Alice...standing in front of them. Like she was being judged. It reminded her eerily of an audition.

"How old are ya?" Zalgo asked with the tilt of his head. Alice fidgeted.

"Erm- fifteen." Zalgo looked at Natalie and arched a brow. Alice coughed. "B-But um- I've been singing since I was seven." She added. Zalgo gave a nod.

"Alright...think you can demonstrate?" He asked. Alice glanced away anxiously and he smiled a bit. "C'mon, you can't be any worse than Jason."

"Rude."

"I like Jason's voice." Jane piped up. Jason smiled.

"Thank you, Jane, you're the only person here who shows me any kindness…"

"Hey! I bring home pizza for you!" Zalgo said, pouting.

"You work at Pizza Hut, Zalgo. You get that stuff for free." Jason replied sternly. Alice laughed a little bit at the two of them. Jason turned back to her and smiled.

‘’So what style of music do you do?’’ he asked. Alice’s eyes widened.

‘’Oh- mostly showtunes, broadway stuff.’’ she replied. Jason nodded. She felt a bit more relaxed now. It just….felt like an audition. She’d done those dozens of times before. ‘’I can sing Defying Gravity- from uh- Wicked?’’ she suggested.

‘’Go ahead, girl.’’ Zalgo replied, leaning back on the couch again. Alice nodded and cleared her throat.

‘’Something has changed within me...something is not the same, I’m through with playing by the rules of someone else’s game,’’ she hadn’t had a chance to warm up, and she winced at how her voice sounded. But when she looked at the others they didn’t seem to notice. ‘’Too late for second guessing, too late to go back to sleep…’’ she took a deep breath, preparing herself for the high notes coming up. ‘’It’s time to trust my instincts...close my eyes...and leap.’’

‘’Stop.’’ Zalgo interrupted her. She stopped and looked at him, afraid. Had she failed the high note? Did her rusty voice really sound that bad…? ‘’You’re amazing girl!’’

‘’Wh-wha-’’

‘’Seriously! You sound like you could be on broadway!’’ Zalgo grinned wide at her as he spoke. Jason nodded in agreement. Nat hopped up off the couch and slung her arm around Alice’s shoulder again.

‘’So is she in?’’

‘’Well of course she’s in!’’ Zalgo stood up and thrust out his hand. ‘’Welcome to the band, Alice.’’

Alice smiled sheepishly and took his hand. ‘’Thanks...what uh- what do I get for being in it?’’

‘’Free music lessons and pop tarts. Plus vibing privileges.’’

‘’V-Vibing privileges…?’’

‘’You’re allowed come over whenever.’’ Jason explained. ‘’Though you probably have better things to do than hang out with two thirty year old men who do nothing but watch Netflix all day.’’

‘’Oh.’’

‘’Oh c’mon, we’re cool!’’ Zalgo pouted at him. ‘’In fact, I can prove it.’’

‘’Please don’t.’’ Jason murmured. Alice watched Zalgo scamper over to the corner of the room and grab one of the instruments. He held it up proudly. It was a red guitar, with two necks and a body cut into jagged shapes. He grinned and held it down to playing height, strolling back over to Alice.

‘’Pretty sweet, huh?’’

‘’Oh my god do you have to show that thing to every guest we get?’’ Jason called irritably. Zalgo shot him a look.

‘’How do you even play that…?’’ Alice asked in amazement. Zalgo smiled.

‘’Lots of practice and quick timing.’’ he replied, strumming a few chords. ‘’What instruments do ya play, girl?’’

‘’Oh uh- I- don’t. I just sing.’’ Alice glanced away nervously as she spoke. Zalgo arched a brow at her, surprised.

‘’I thought she’d be good for backup!’’ Natalie chimed in.

‘’I think she’d be good for my songs,’’ Jane added. ‘’Just like with Jason.’’ Zalgo nodded and looked at the ginger girl for a moment. He turned on his heel and put his beloved guitar down, then moved over to another part of the room and rummaged through a plastic bin he had laying around.

‘’I know just the thing for you then,’’ he murmured. Alice looked surprised, until he stood up again and held up a tambourine. ‘’This is exactly what we’ve been missing, and it’s easy to learn!’’

‘’...oh.’’ Zalgo strode over and handed the tambourine to Alice. She looked at it for a moment, then shook it halfheartedly. He grinned and clasped his hands together.

‘’Perfect!’’

Jason sighed quietly and climbed up off the couch. He dusted his hands off and glanced at Nat and Jane. ‘’You guys hungry?’’ he asked. Zalgo shot him a look.

‘’Wait what happened to practice?’’ he whined. Jason rolled his eyes and walked over to the door.

‘’You already showed off your guitar, Zalgy. And I’m hungry.’’ Jason muttered. ‘’And I’m sure the girls are starving too.’’ he turned and looked at his boyfriend. He knew Zalgo couldn’t say no to him, not when he pulled out that nickname. He eventually sighed.

‘’Fiiiiine.’’

#creepypasta fanfic #creepypasta fanfiction #creepypasta #writing #jalgo #jason the toymaker #zalgo #zalgo creepypasta #clockwork #clockwork creepypasta #natalie oulette #alice jackson #jane arkensaw #jane the killer #the band au #ask #clowningking

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kindofcashton · 5 years ago

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𝕕𝕚𝕤𝕔𝕠𝕟𝕟𝕖𝕔𝕥𝕖𝕕 • chapter 17 (Calum Hood AU)

DESPITE THE STARTLING realization that I might in fact be in love with Calum, I didn’t act any differently. I didn’t hover or cling to him like annoying, love-struck girls would. In fact, I was almost more distant, using it as a safety precaution in case he caught on to my intensifying feelings. One night I casually suggested we sleep apart, even though the thought pained me. Calum’s reluctance was a comfort, but even still he ended up agreeing. That was one of the longest nights of my life; I laid for hours just staring at the ceiling, wondering if Calum felt as empty as I did without a warm body laying next to mine.

Things at the house were also just better all around. With Ashton and Hannah on good terms again, the group was tentatively back together. I interrogated Hannah for answers on what had happened, if their relationship was slowly reforming. She dodged most of my tougher questions, insisting that they’d put aside any bad blood for the sake of the group. I didn’t entirely buy this; something definitely happened, but for whatever reason Hannah wasn’t ready to tell me. I didn’t demand any more details, seeing as I was withholding plenty myself. Hannah thought Calum and I were just fooling around, no strings attached. While that was what was supposed to be going on, my feelings lately had confused things. By no means was I going to tell a soul what I felt, but even keeping it inside still made the whole thing feel different. I leaned deeper into Calum’s kisses, I held his gaze longer when he rocked inside of me. My body was communicating all on its own, and I just hoped Calum didn’t catch on to these subtle changes.

After a particularly hot and passionate night together, I was frantic to go off to work. Calum’s heady pants still echoed in my ears, the burn of his fingers still lingering on my skin. As I sat on the edge of the bed lacing up my sneakers, I felt warm lips press into my neck, and goosebumps raised immediately where he kissed me.

“Back for more?” I joked, not looking over my shoulder. I’d woken up before him to get ready, leaving him peacefully asleep, or so I thought. He swiveled his body to sit next to mine on the bed, shoulder bumping my own. Calum was clad only in black athletic shorts, his toned torso on teasing display.

His nose nestled into my neck, making my lashes flutter. “I can be quick,” he whispered in a sultry tone, and I pushed him away with a snort.

“I think I’ll need more time to recover after what you did last night,” I reminded him, feeling the residual ache between my legs. Calum left me the sore in the best way possible, and all day I would have a reminder of his body’s wicked tricks.

Calum smirked at me, flopping over onto the mattress with his hand over his abdomen. He looked beautifully relaxed, jawline framed by the morning light, his eyes drowsy but content. I’d never seen him so happy, and for a second I wondered if it was more than just the sex that made him feel this way.

“How long’s your shift?” he asked, eyes closing with a yawn. I grabbed my bag off the floor and shouldered it with a sigh.

“Long,” I said simply, not looking forward to the strenuous hours ahead. With community college tuition looming, I asked Mack for as many shifts as I could get, just in case I felt tight on money. I’d rather have more than enough than barely enough, even if it meant working excruciating hours.

Calum frowned. “You’re working so much lately.” There was an edge to his voice, like he disapproved.

I ran a hand through my hair in aggravation. “What else am I supposed to do? My life is getting back on track, and that means more bills to pay.” I tried to stifle the resentment bubbling up inside me; Calum lounged around day in and day out, doing what he wanted when he wanted to. Week after week he tore open the checks his mother sent, tossing them carelessly onto his desk. Usually this didn’t come between us, but with my increased schedule I couldn’t help but feel bitter about his lazy routine.

Clearly a similar thought crossed his mind, and his frown deepened. He didn’t say anything else, instead taking on a guarded expression. He was so hard to read sometimes, and when I wanted him to open up he just shut down. I had no idea how he felt about me going back to school; part of me thought he didn’t care, but another part wondered if he felt insecure that I was growing up and making a life for myself while he wasted time doing nothing important. I wished he would tell me if he felt this way, but of course he never did. We didn’t talk about anything that wasn’t surface level, which was fine when we were in our peaceful little bubble.

But I had to live in reality, which meant popping that bubble more frequently. I couldn’t let Calum distract me from my more important goals, and he just had to learn to deal with my busy lifestyle.

As I was tying my hair into a messy ponytail, Calum suddenly asked, “When do you get off?”

“Seven,” I answered. “It’s a ten-hour shift with only one lunch break. I might drop dead from exhaustion.” A second passed, and I chewed my lip as an idea popped into my head. “Want to get dinner after I’m finished?”

For some reason this caused Calum to lean up, his posture stiff and his expression incredulous. “What?”

My brows knit together, puzzled at his odd reaction. “Dinner. I’ll be starved after my shift, so I thought you could join me.”

His frown turned into a glare. “Like a date?” He sounded defensive and mocking, which didn’t help my already exacerbated mood.

“What, we can’t eat a meal together? Is that against some hook-up rule or something?” I couldn’t control the annoyance in my voice; why did Calum always have to complicate things?

“I don’t know, dinner just seems like a weird thing to do.” I had no idea what he meant by ‘weird’, and his unreadable expression didn’t help me figure it out.

“Whatever, Calum,” I refuted. “Forget I asked.” I was already late for work and had to catch the bus, so I didn’t bother staying to bicker any longer. Admittedly, it hurt that he was so against the idea of us spending time together outside of the bedroom. I’d suggested dinner as more of a friendship thing than anything else; after all, there was a time when the two of us actually liked one another.

I didn’t realize Calum had followed me until I reached the front door, but his arm blocked me from opening it. He’d thrown on a shirt and shoes, and his lips were pressed together in a thin line.

Fuming, I crossed my arms and demanded he move. “I’m late for work, Calum.”

“No, you’re late for the bus,” he countered. “So let me drive you, and that’ll solve the problem.” For such a considerate offer, he didn’t sound too nice about it. His scowl seemed permanently etched on as I followed him to his car.

We drove in silence for a few minutes, not even the sound of the radio to alleviate the tension. Calum’s knuckles were white as he gripped the wheel, and I leaned as far away from him as possible.

Sensing my irritation, he asked, “Are you gonna be pissed at me for the whole day?” He sounded accusing, which only made me more infuriated.

“No, Calum. I’m not gonna waste that much time on you.” Realizing how harsh the words sounded, I backtracked. “I just thought we could eat some stupid grilled cheese sandwiches together and maybe do something different for a change. God forbid I want to spend time with you.”

More silence, so I thought the conversation was over. But then I glanced over and saw an odd look on his face, almost resembling guilt.

“So it’s not a date?” he reiterated, and I let out an enormous sigh.

“I literally just want to eat food, and not do it alone,” I insisted, so beyond done with this conversation. But Calum seemed satisfied with my answer, and eased up his tight grip on the wheel.

“Okay, so I’ll pick you up.” He met my eyes as he pulled into a parking spot near the cafe, stopping the car and filling the air with quiet. I tried desperately to see the thoughts swirling behind his level brown gaze, but it was a hopeless task. At least he wasn’t hostile anymore. I sighed again, hoping my annoyance was well communicated so he knew not to pull this shit again.

“I’ll see you later,” I told him before closing the car door. I stalked towards the coffee shop, grabbing the strap of my bag for support as I refused to look back.

Roger knew something was up the minute I started working. I moved angrily as I made the coffees, sighing every so often and grimacing rather than smiling at the customers. It would be a long day.

“Who pissed in your morning coffee?” he joked after a particularly bad exchange with a customer. The guy had demanded I remake his cappuccino because it “didn’t taste right”, and when my polite apology wasn’t ass-kissing enough for him he accused me of being a miserable, lazy youth. I seriously contemplated throwing the hot coffee in his face, but reminded myself I was working these stupid shifts for a reason. My future.

“Just having a bad day, I guess,” I replied vaguely, but this didn’t satisfy Roger.

“Trouble in paradise, eh? What’s he done now?”

I couldn’t help but smile at how Roger always jumped to my defense, always blaming Calum when things went wrong. “I told him I was working late and suggested we get dinner, then he flipped out because he thought I meant it as a date.”

This intrigued Roger, who raised his eyebrows in pleasant surprise. “Interesting. He could be using reverse psychology. I’ll bet he actually does want to go on a date, but wants you to think that he doesn’t.” Roger tapped the side of his head. “Smart cookie.”

I laughed, beginning to wipe down the counters after the first morning rush. “I’m a psychology major and I still can’t figure out what goes in his mind,” I joked. “I just thought it would be nice to do something together. Other than what we always do.” At my insinuation, Roger giggled like a schoolboy.

“Ah, yes, the sex has reached the boring stage, has it?”

I shook my head firmly. “No, not at all. It’s still great, just...” I exhaled sharply, frustrated with the whole situation. “I really thought it was just gonna be dinner, but then he had to make it weird. And he was being weird about me working so much, too. I don’t know what his problem is lately.”

Roger nodded along to my rant, considering the dilemma. “Well, that’s obvious at least. He feels left behind.”

I waved the rag excitedly. “That’s what I thought! I mean, he doesn’t have any idea what he’s doing, and I have every idea. I thought maybe he was jealous or insecure, but he’d definitely rather die than tell me this.”

“He’s a guy like that. We don’t like feeling inferior, and when we do we totally deal with it the wrong way,” Roger informed me. “He doesn’t know how to process these complex emotions so he’s shutting them out.”

I smiled. “You don’t need to tell me twice. Classic defense mechanisms, disconnection from his feelings...” I trailed off, suddenly feeling guilty. I shouldn’t psychoanalyze Calum, not when I knew how much he hated that side of me. But I couldn’t help it when he was being so difficult.

Resting my elbows on the counter, my smile faded into a worried frown. “What do I do, Roger? I thought we were in a good place, but lately it just doesn’t feel right anymore.”

“Don’t give up yet,” Roger suggested. “Give it a little more time. But if Calum doesn’t start making some changes, cut him loose. You’ve got better things to deal with than his emotional immaturity.” Despite the harsh criticism, I knew Roger was right. Whatever I felt towards Calum didn’t matter if he was jeopardizing my future, and I couldn’t keep dealing with his detached feelings when it made me so exhausted.

For once I actually dreaded the end of my shift. I had no idea what mood Calum would be in when he picked me up--or if he would even pick me up at all. I wouldn’t put it past him to abandon me, especially if he wanted to avoid an uncomfortable conversation.

I ended up cleaning the whole dining area twice, and even resorted to re-mopping the floor which was practically sparkling already. Roger played along with this for as long as he could, but even his patience was wearing thin.

“We got off half an hour ago, Scarlett,” he criticized, snatching the mop out of my hand. “I’m going blind from all the sparkly-clean surfaces inside this cafe.”

I sighed, placing my hands on my hips. “I know, you’re right. I just...when I’m nervous I like to fix things and be productive, so cleaning--”

“Yeah, yeah, your fatal flaw is that you care too much and you clean all the time. I swear, you act like you’re the worst person alive when those are barely flaws.” Roger’s tone was light, but I couldn’t help but look deeper into his joke. Did Calum think that I didn’t believe I had any flaws? Caring too much is barely even a character flaw, but that’s what he threw in my face constantly. Maybe he thought I put myself on a pedestal above him, and that’s why he felt so insecure.

I decided I would try to be less condescending and more open when it came to Calum’s feelings. I only hoped he would actually appreciate this effort, and maybe start making some positive changes of his own.

The sun was bleeding into the sky as it set below the horizon, casting a pale orange glow about the earth. I glanced around outside the cafe, searching for that signature red mustang that always made my heart skip a beat.

Sure enough, it was parked right across the street, and Calum was leaning casually against it. He looked good; typical black jeans and sneakers with a big red flannel over a band shirt. My face broke into a surprise smile; I remembered wearing that shirt just a few nights ago.

When I approached, Calum’s brows raised disbelievingly. “What’s with the face?” he questioned, referring to my dumb grin.

I shrugged. “I don’t know, I guess I wasn’t exactly sure if you’d show up.” It was an honest answer, and I didn’t think lying or placating Calum would help either of us.

His lips twisted into a sardonic smirk. “Of course I showed up; I would never miss our date.” He said this with obvious bitter sarcasm, but the crinkles around his eyes softened the delivery. I rolled my eyes, amused by his stubborn refusal to get over the whole “date” thing.

“I’m starved, where should we go?” I’d eat just about anything right now, but a grilled cheese sounded particularly mouth-watering.

“Luke says there’s a new diner open by the music shop. Says it’s more upscale than the truck-stop places we always go to.”

I nodded, pleased with the idea of trying out a new place with Calum. This felt like something regular friends did, and although Calum and I were definitely out of the ordinary, I enjoyed it nonetheless.

The diner was fairly packed when we got there, but we managed to snag one of the last open booths. There was no question about what we’d order; as soon as the waitress showed up, we asked for two grilled cheeses.

I sipped my coke and gazed out the window at the bustling city streets. My muscles relaxed into the cushioned booth as the day’s stress lifted from my shoulders. Work was taxing, as always, but worth it in the end.

Neither of us minded the quiet, since we were so used to each other’s presence. A few times I felt Calum’s knee brush mine under the table, and my lips twitched at this subtle motion.

“Why’d you get out so late? Mack ask you to stay longer?” Calum twirled his unopened plastic straw between his fingers, and for a second the movement mesmerized me as I thought about his skilled fingers.

“No, I just wanted to clean the place up. I didn’t have to stay.”

Calum scoffed lightly, and I worried I said something wrong. “Always so selfless,” he muttered, but I couldn’t detect if he was joking or not. “Do you ever do anything wrong?”

The question was rhetorical, but I took the opportunity to open up a little and show Calum that I could be vulnerable. “Yeah, all the time. What do you think me lying to everyone was about?”

He frowned, unsatisfied by the answer. “You lied out of loyalty to a friend, that’s hardly wrong.”

“Okay, then I leech off all of you by living rent-free. I’m cheap, I’m a cheap-skate.” I was grasping at straws, anything to show that I didn’t think I was some perfect angel. And I didn’t. I knew I was flawed and I hated that Calum thought I wasn’t; that would just set him up to be disappointed when he realized I wasn’t as amazing as he thought.

Calum just rolled his eyes at this attempt. “You whine about feeling bad every day, that’s hardly being a leech.”

Sitting back with a defeated sigh, I demanded, “Well, what do you want me to say? I’m showing you everything I do wrong and you’re denying all of it.”

“Because you don’t do anything wrong. You’re so kind it makes my teeth hurt, and there’s never a doubt in anyone’s mind that you’re genuine. You’re perfect, Scarlett.” He said this matter-of-fact, like I was a little kid he was explaining something very simple to.

I ignored the way his final sentence made me feel. You’re perfect, Scarlett. Did he really see me that way? Was I perfect to him? Or perfect for him? I hoped it was the latter, and bit my lip to hide my inner turmoil. Calum danced along a very thin line all the time: the line between what we were now, and what I secretly wanted us to be. What kind of friend-with-benefits says you’re perfect? I tried to convince myself he didn’t mean it, that it was supposed to be mocking, but the sincerity in his eyes was telling me otherwise.

Thankfully, the waitress interrupted us with food and gave us both an excuse to change the subject. As soon as she left, Calum and I collectively cringed; the sandwiches were cut down the middle.

Calum exhaled gravely, shaking his head. “Gonna have to tell Luke this place isn’t so great after all. I mean, they really fucked up here.”

I laughed, pretending to push my plate away. “Get that waitress back here, we’ll set her straight.” As we both joked over the grilled cheese, any intensity or confusion from before was banished. The meal was quickly over, and I won the argument for which of us would pay for the food. While we got up to leave, Calum grumbled about having to take me out again so that he could pay and make us even.

When he said this, I had to hide my blushing smile.

The night wasn’t too cold, and we decided to walk for a little bit before driving home. Our hands swayed close to one another’s, and I willed Calum to twine his fingers with my own. But the backs of our palms grazed a few times, and he made no move to change this.

As we passed by a familiar building, I pointed it out to Calum. “That’s one of the places Hannah and I looked at. The apartment is actually pretty nice, but there’s god-awful green bathroom tile that makes me nauseous just looking at it.”

Calum smiled vaguely, his expression distant. “You can’t live there, the location is awful.”

I knitted my brows together. “It’s right by the coffee shop.”

He shook his head. “Yeah, but way too far from the house. We’re never gonna see you guys if you live there.”

I chuckled, looking down at the pavement as we walked. “I think you just don’t want me to move out,” I concluded.

Calum’s smile tightened. “Yeah, who else would constantly wear the shirts that are supposed to be mine?”

My shoulder nudged him jokingly as I teased, “Admit it, you love seeing me in your tee shirts.”

He paused in walking, and my grin faded. Had I been too serious? Was using the word love a mistake? Panic welled up in my chest, and I feared I ruined an otherwise perfect evening.

And then all of a sudden his phone began to ring, and I let out a breath I hadn’t even realized I’d been holding. Saved by the bell, I thought, wondering what would have happened if we weren’t interrupted.

Calum fished through his pocket for his phone, pulling it out and glancing at the screen. His expression immediately darkened, and my stomach sank upon seeing this.

“Who is it?” It was a stupid question, because I knew he wouldn’t answer. Calum squared his shoulders and started walking, leaving me to hurriedly catch up to him.

“No one,” he snapped when I reached him, anticipating my badgering questions. “Drop it, okay?”

I opened my mouth to protest, but then remembered the promise I’d made to myself earlier. Don’t be condescending. So I kept my mouth shut, and instead focused on keeping up with Calum’s long strides.

He glanced at me a few times, surprised I wasn’t trying to get answers out of him. Once I met his eyes, and saw the deep thought hiding behind his brown orbs. I wished he’d let me in on what he was thinking, but I settled with not knowing.

A minute passed, and then his phone chimed, indicating the caller had left a voicemail. We both tensed, but I didn’t expect him to listen to it.

So I was surprised when he whipped his phone out and brought it to his ear, stopping again to listen to the message. I stood a few feet from him, keeping enough distance that I couldn’t eavesdrop on the call, even though I was dying to know who it was.

I watched Calum’s face as he listened, taking in the subtle narrowing of his eyes, the lowering of his brow in shock. His lips parted, and all I wanted to do was kiss away the storm brewing behind his eyes.

The voicemail ended, and Calum shoved his phone back in his pocket. But this time when he tried to continue walking, I stopped him, stepping in front of his chest and placing a hand on his shoulder.

“Calum,” I started gently, lifting my eyes to his. He avoided my quizzical stare, breathing hard. “What is it? What’s wrong? You can tell me.”

He pushed a hand roughly through his hair, glaring everywhere but at me. “It’s nothing, Scarlett. Don’t worry about it.”

“I’m not,” I defended. “But maybe you should since whoever it is makes you feel this angry.”

Finally he turned his angry eyes on me, and I inhaled sharply at the fury I saw there. “Fine, it was my mother who called. Satisfied?” He pushed me aside in order to storm off, and I was too stunned to move for a moment.

But then I jogged to catch up, breathless and confused. “Your mother? What did she want? I thought she only reaches out through the checks.”

Calum looked ready to boil over. “She does, but apparently she felt the need to call me.” He appeared to be fighting over his next words, before finally stating, “She wants me to come home for a visit.”

I took a minute to let this information sink in. Instinctively I was thrilled; his mother reaching out was a promising sign that their fractured relationship could be healed. But then I considered the ramifications of her request. She wouldn’t just ask out of the blue if something else wasn’t going on. And she had to know that Calum wasn’t exactly warm and fuzzy when it came to family stuff, so why not go about it delicately, not so sudden and shocking?

I tried in vain to read Calum’s expression, finding nothing but frustration and anger. It pained me to see him so tense, but I didn’t just want to coddle him, I wanted to help him.

“Why not go?” I proposed softly, trying not to set him off. “It might be good to see her.”

Calum snickered at this, and I winced. “You’re shitting me, right?” He sounded harsh and mocking, and I struggled to hold my ground.

“I know you’re confused and hurting,” I said firmly. “But you don’t have to take it out on me. I just want to help you.”

“Of course you do, because I’m your favorite little charity case,” he retaliated. “Give it a rest, Scarlett. I don’t need you smothering me.”

Fuming, I folded my arms and didn’t shy away from his steely gaze. “No, Calum. You can be an asshole and you can bitch about whatever you want, but don’t you dare take it out on me. I’m just suggesting you patch up your relationship with your mother, or at least give it a try--”

“What makes you think you know what’s best for me?” he snarled. “You don’t know me, you have no right to tell me what to do. We’re not even friends, so why do you care?”

I huffed in disbelief, pressing a hand to my forehead. “Why do I care? Maybe because I’m not an emotionless husk who has no idea how to express his feelings! We’re sleeping together for God’s sake--”

“And that makes us what, a couple? You think you’re my girlfriend? We’re not even friends, Scarlett.”

Each word cut me like a knife, voicing the exact anxieties that had been eating away at me for weeks. “I know we’re not, which is why I wanted to go to dinner and spend some freaking time together!” I was embarrassed at how high my voice had gotten, how pathetic I sounded when I was trying to defend myself.

Calum chuckled darkly. “I don’t want to be friends with you. You always do this, you always force your way into other people’s problems because you think it involves you when it doesn’t.” His hard eyes met mine. “You’re nothing more than a good lay, and I can get that anywhere.”

I tried to remember how to breathe as I watched his figure get smaller and smaller, walking farther and farther away from me. Each step he took was a stab to my heart, until he was out of view and I was left bleeding alone in the street.

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saudadeonly · 4 years ago

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weren’t you something

Read on ao3. Part four.

Death Eater!Sirius Black AU

Marlene McKinnon learned a long time ago what kind of casualties war brings. She doesn't need a reminder in the form of Sirius Black.

And yet.

Word count: 6650

___

July 1981

The grandfather clock in the McKinnon residence strikes nine o’clock just as Marlene McKinnon brings out the cake, decorated with exactly seventeen candles. She tried to light them with the Muggle lighter Lily gave her but her scorched fingers quickly compelled her to use her wand instead.

Felicie exclaims in delight when she sees the cake adorned with blueberries—her favourite. Their mother spent all morning making it while Marlene lounged around the kitchen, pretending to be of help. Still, that’s more than their dallying brothers did, so.

“It’s gorgeous,” she exclaims, her blonde ponytail swishing behind her as she bounces in spot. The four-leaf clover necklace Marlene gave her glimmers around her pale throat.

Marlene grins, carefully depositing the cake on the table, around which the entire McKinnon family is gathered. Her three brothers—Pip, Theo, Matthew—their parents, and Mum’s father. Even Dad’s parents have come, after having sworn to Marlene that they would keep any lifestyle-related and lifetime-partners-related remarks to themselves. So far, they seem to have stuck to their end of the deal so Marlene’s smile doesn’t diminish when it passes over their old faces.

“Thank you, mama.” Felicie leans forward to blow out the candles but Pip, as he was dubbed by one-year-old Marlene who could not yet say his full name Phillip, tugs on her ponytail and pulls her back. “You know the rules,” he says, pointing to the clock on the wall, while the rest of them nod sagely.

It’s a foolish tradition, as Felicie doesn’t hesitate to tell them, but the McKinnons have always been adamant about the rule that one can only blow out candles only when it’s the time they were actually born. It tends to be impractical and has been so on many occasions, but Marlene adores it still, foolishness and all.

The arm on the clock moves to the second line and Felicie blows out the candles with a grin, while the rest of them cheer. The smoke swirls up, creating a mist around her sister, and Marlene’s heart constricts at the childish delight on her face. She still has a year left at Hogwarts, another year when they can try and shelter her from the reality of the outside world that Dumbledore works so hard to keep from them. Marlene hopes that once Felicie’s finished, she won’t have to hear about it at all.

Of course, her sister always has been brighter than most and has made it abundantly clear that she knows what they’re trying to do and that she finds it stupid, but appreciates it nonetheless. Marlene studiously ignores her every time she tries to bring up the Order. Her brothers, for once, seem to be doing the same as her.

“Alright, now the best part,” Felicie says as their mother reaches for the knife, brushing her blonde hair, the same as Marlene, Matthew and Felicie’s, out of her face. And at that moment, as Marlene looks over her family, her heart feeling like it might crack apart with the love she feels for these people, it all goes to hell.

At four minutes past nine, exactly two minutes after Felicie’s birthday, the door at her back explodes into splinters.

Marlene has her wand in her hand before she can blink, as do Matthew and Theo, but the Death Eaters are faster.

They spill into the dining room, silver masks like stolen starlight, spells shooting out of their wands before they’re even fully through. They throw all of them back with a single unanimously-cast spell, knocking the breath clean out of Marlene’s chest. The wall she hits is cold, the impact with it a hard collision with reality.

One of Death Eaters’ spells hits their mother and she crumples like one of the puppets Marlene and Pip used to play with. She didn’t even get to reach for her wand.

“Mum!” Pip reaches for her, but he’s too late and he narrowly avoids a jet of green light. His retaliating curse is a swift, cold reaction, the impact of which Marlene never gets to see because she’s forced to throw up a shield to deflect a jet of sickly purple light.

It gives her enough time to jump to her feet, breath be damned, and shoots off a curse of her own. It feels off, she feels off, the floor beneath her feet not steady enough, her hand lacking the fluidity it usually possesses.

The offending Death Eater doesn’t seem to be deterred by her spells, which is another contributor to the sleek, heavy feeling in the pit of her stomach, and his attack pushes her back into the living room. Another two join his efforts and a cold sort of realisation comes over Marlene. They’re trying to separate them. They’re trying to separate her from her family.

The world seems to fade from view. No. No.

She spins her wand, fights a little fiercer, a little harsher but it’s little use—most of her spells are deflected by one or another, or seem to cause so little damage they find it laughable. One of them hits her side, tearing a long gash down the side of her ribcage.

“That is a new top,” she gasps out as she twirls her hand and sends him flying back several feet. The world seems a little blurrier, then, but she manages to make two consecutive spells rebound off her shield. She chances a look towards the dining room, where her family of eight is surrounded by nearly twice as many Death Eaters and fighting a losing battle. But at least they’re fighting.

That little glance costs her—her shield seems to lose its potency and when one of the Death Eater shoots a disarming spell at her, it passes through. Her wand slips out of her grasp, flying uselessly towards the couch.

Marlene chokes on a laugh when a dark stream of light knocks her back, sending her crumpling onto the floor. After all this time, after so many successful missions and won battles, this is what gets her. A disarming spell, a second of diverted attention. Dorcas will be so disappointed. Marlene is glad, suddenly, that Dorcas politely declined the invitation to come, claiming to have a duty for the Order; that she is far away from this, even though Marlene was furious about her flimsy excuse only hours ago.

Her side burns, her lungs can’t seem to draw in enough air and she can’t move but all she can focus on is the fact that the sounds of fighting have stopped. There is only raucous laughter and laboured breathing. Marlene dreads the moment that stops too.

She has no time to think about it further. A Cruciatus hits her and she trashes as the pain spreads along her body, seeping into her muscles, twining around her bones. The world blurs and then sharpens, focusing on that single thing still existing in her—pain, all-consuming, vicious. She screams and screams and yet she finds it in herself to be grateful that no one else is screaming with her. That she, not her family, is their focus. Then, as abruptly as it started, the pain stops.

Someone stands over her. His hood is drawn up, his mask firmly in place but Marlene knows he’s grinning anyway. “Well, would you look at how the mighty have fallen,” he says. His voice, rough and muffled, is familiar; but then, they all are these days. If she were to remove his mask, chances are she would know whoever is underneath it. Travers, maybe. Nott, Dolohov, Macnair, one of the Lestranges are all as likely. He crouches down, runs a hand down the side of her face. Marlene wishes she could bite it. “I’ve been waiting a long time to get my hands on you.”

“Going to have to wait for a bit longer, Travers,” says a voice just a little bit farther away and this time it is familiar for a whole different reason. The footsteps that approach them are soft, measured. “Go find someone else to play with. I have a score to settle with her.”

Travers—her guess being right brings little satisfaction—hisses, “I got here first.”

“Oh, Travers, don’t you know that in the company of women, you shouldn’t boast about coming first?”

A part of Marlene, a small, tiny part wishes she could see Travers’s face just for that split second; it would bring so much satisfaction before the imminent pain and death. The rest of her coils in dread when he grumbles and moves away from her—but steps toward another body instead. A body with a blonde ponytail and a limp hand outstretched towards Marlene. As if her sister wanted to reach her before she was cut down.

Felicie’s eyes are big, their blue sea-rich, and she doesn’t take them off Marlene as Travers steps over her and reaches for her neck, the necklace there now painted red. She lets out a small sound, somewhere between a whimper and a sob as Travers’s hands roam lower.

“No,” Marlene says, twitching toward her sister. It doesn’t do anything—the spell holds and Marlene is stuck in place. She tries again, her own bloodied hand reaching out to Felicie. Felicie’s fingers twitch. “No, please, take me instead, please, please.”

A figure looms and Sirius Black crouches over her, hiding her sister from her view, although she can still hear Felicie, her pleas. He’s smiling, but his eyes are cold. He brushes back a lock of her sweat-damp, blood-matted hair, tucks it behind her ear. “No, worries, Marlene,” he says, voice midnight-soft, “you’ll get your turn too.”

A guttural scream tears through the house. Pip is begging as they torture him, Marlene’s heart screaming with him. Pip, her Pip, her brother, who pushed her off swings and tugged on her hair and told her stupid jokes when their grandparents’ hate cut too deep, too personal. Pip, who is dying.

“Please,” she whispers again to Sirius’s blank face. She remembers a time when that face was the most expressive thing she had ever known, full of rage and pain and razor-sharp joy. She hates the memory of it more than this face before her because that one was only a mask, a lie. “Please, I’m the one that you want.”

“We want all of you.” His voice is as cold as his hand that he slips under the hem of her top. Marlene can’t stop him from it, just as she can’t stop the screams that have now joined Pip’s. A tear trickles down her face as Sirius points his wand at her. They’re all going to die and it’s all her fault for insisting they have a proper party for Felicie’s birthday. She just wanted a day of normalcy for her—for all of them.

Their eyes meet, but the indifference she finds in his is too much and she closes her eyes, goes deep inside that part of herself, just as Moody taught her, and waits for the pain to come. At least she can keep the information to herself. At least she can do that for the Order. But the pain doesn’t come.

Instead, there’s a voice. Mack. Mack, can you hear me?

Marlene opens her eyes. She looks at Sirius but his face remains impassive, his lips unmoving, just as his voice continues on the outskirts of her mind. He doesn’t try and delve deeper, even though she feels the power behind the weak barrier she’s thrown up that tells her he very well could.

She nods, the shock getting the best of her. No one’s called her that in years.

His hand is on her hip, but it does not reach lower or higher. Instead, his thumb circles her hipbone in a way that is strangely reminiscent of the way he used to comfort her during that crazy week in seventh year they actually thought they could sleep together and ignore their respective pining. Good, he says. His voice is softer than she’s heard it in years, or maybe ever, full of weariness and barely-there strain. I’m going to get you out of here but you need to listen to me. You need to do as I say. It takes a lot of effort for him to talk to her like this, she realises when he pauses. She can feel herself nod again. Then he orders, Scream.

Marlene doesn’t spare a moment to think why this might be a colossally bad idea. Her family is already dying and she is about to be tortured for information. Playing along with whatever Sirius is trying to get at seems like a way to appease him, at least, if it turns out he’s only messing with her in the end. Although the sincerity in his voice, the pain underlining every word make her doubt he is. So Marlene takes a slow breath and channels all her hate, all her fear, and pain into her lungs—then she screams as she did only minutes ago.

As her throat works itself raw, Sirius bends down low over her, his head nearly touching hers as she writhes. “Your wand is just a bit to the right and up from you,” he murmurs into her ear. His hand holds tight onto her hip but not enough to hurt her. An anchor, she thinks, holding her there, to keep her from slipping away. “Can you reach it?”

Marlene’s fingertips brush the smooth polished wood of her wand when she uses her thrashing as an excuse to move herself an inch closer to it. If she had an extra second to throw herself toward it, she could potentially succeed. “Yes,” she whispers, her throat too raw from the screaming to be able to do much else.

“Good. Grab it and throw me back.” He straightens and points his wand at her as he says, voice again loud and cold, “Crucio.” She tenses but while there are the power and the command for the spell, there is no intent behind it so her body doesn’t even twitch. She takes the hint anyway and lets another shriek rip out of her. He lowers his voice again, his lips barely moving, and says, “The whole house is surrounded with anti-apparition wards but there is a spot, by that gnome with the blue hat that isn’t covered. Go there and disapparate.”

Someone else’s screams echo through the house. Her mother’s or her grandmother’s, Marlene isn’t sure. Maybe both. Others have been drowned out by the Death Eaters’ laughter, their cold mocking voices. She thinks she hears Bellatrix’s high notes among them, taunting one of Marlene’s brothers. Marlene hates all of them. When she finds out who they are, she will kill them, one by one.

“Sirius, please, my family—”

This time, his voice is drowned out by Felicie’s scream, but there is a touch of pain in it now, a splinter embedded in the lowest of undertones. Marlene’s chest hurts, her doubt increased by a fraction. “They’ll be okay, Mack, I promise, but I can’t blow—”

Marlene surges up and butts her head against his, with as much force as she can muster. It makes her head ring and small flecks of light swim in and out of her sight, but it also makes him shout and stumble back, clutching his nose, giving her enough time to throw herself toward her wand and grab onto it. She doesn’t know if she herself that turns or her wand that does it for her but in the next moment it is pointed directly at Sirius as she shouts, “Expulso!”

Sirius is blasted back, directly into Travers, knocking him clean off Felicie’s body. Marlene hesitates, wanting to run to her sister, but there is no way she can take on fifteen Death Eaters and end up any different than she was seconds ago. Marlene bolts for the back door, holding tightly onto her wand, and tries to ignore the way her whole left ribcage burns with the effort. She hears the thud of heavy footsteps behind her and pushes herself harder. Come on, come on, comeoncomeoncomeon.

A jet of red light just sails over her head when she throws the back door open and slams it shut behind her. She stumbles down the steps, barely managing to keep her balance on the stone still slippery from the rain earlier in the afternoon, her heart beating a staccato into her ears, her blood, her belly. She uses the stairs’ newel to propel herself around the corner and runs toward the blue-hatted gnome at the end of the row of her mother’s lilies. She throws herself on the ground and skids toward it, just as someone tries to grab her. She thinks there are too many stars above her, swimming too close, and she doesn’t recognise the constellations.

The small spot free of anti-apparition wards is like a breath of fresh air, the sizzling from her skin gone for just a moment, the pain thrumming all over replaced by one single thought. Dorcas, Dorcas, Dorcas.

The momentum of whoever was behind her causes him to stumble forward and she can see him clearly as he manages to stop himself in front of her. Sirius’s hair is mussed, blood gushing from his nose and down his front and she knows he will have to suffer for this, but in the split second it takes for her to disappear, she can swear he’s smiling.

*********

Marlene wakes up in a room that has become far too familiar in the past few years. The walls are white, the covers of the bed are white and generally everything is white. The perspective is different, though, as she’s spent most of her visits to this kind of room sitting in the bedside chairs rather than in the bed itself. Dorcas dozes in one of those chairs now, her hand loosely wrapped around Marlene’s, her brown-black ringlets mussed around her head.

She stirs when Marlene shifts, her side throbbing painfully, and shoots up once she finally registers her movement. “Lene,” she breathes, moving as if to lurch forward and hoist herself onto the bed beside her but then seems to remember herself. She settles for squeezing her hand, so strongly it’s almost painful, but Marlene wouldn’t have her let go for the whole world. “How are you feeling?” she asks, her thumb rubbing soothing circles into the back of Marlene’s hand.

Marlene’s mouth is dry, for one. Her head is pounding, her side is burning and she feels like she’s been run over by one of those Muggle lorries, for two, three, and four. “Great,” she says instead of counting them all off. Or rasps, more like.

Dorcas gives her a distinctly unimpressed look and reaches for her wand without a word, flicking it to conjure up a glass of water. Marlene drinks until she feels she might burst and puts it down on the bedside table.

Dorcas stays quiet until then, her eyes just a ring of clear brown around a pit of black, her fingers over Marlene’s trembling. “I was so afraid I’d lost you,” she whispers, pressing a kiss to the back of Marlene’s fingers, her palm, the inside of her wrist.

“Never,” Marlene says but her voice shakes, her throat burning with the knowledge of how close to it she’d actually come. Then, with the clearing of her head, she remembers. “What about my family? Did they—”

“They’re alive,” Dorcas hastens to say, saving Marlene from finishing her sentence. She gives her a reassuring squeeze, though a shade of worry still darkens that lovely face. Alive does not mean okay, Marlene reminds herself and braces herself for the news she is about to receive. “Your mum and your Da’s parents—it’s still touch-and-go, Lene. It’s been a week, but—” She shrugs helplessly, biting her lip. Marlene’s grandparents have never been particularly kind to Dorcas, because of her blood status or because of her skin or because of her gender, Marlene hasn’t figured out yet, but the worry on Dorcas’s face despite it makes her heart squeeze. There was a time she thought she would never be lucky enough to be loved by someone like this.

“Can I see the others?” She needs to see Felicie and Pip and Theo and Matt and Dad and Grandpop—she needs to know if the flashes she has of them are true, or worse. She doesn’t let herself guess.

Dorcas shakes her head. “The healers haven’t let anyone in yet. Potter had to pull some considerable strings to get me in here at all.”

“Oh.” The disappointment of being denied seeing her family and the worry of what state they’re in feels like a weight in the pit of her stomach but it’s alleviated a little by the warmth of Dorcas’s hand, at least. “I’m glad you’re here.”

Dorcas smiles, but it’s shaky at best. It is, Marlene reflects, kind of like she herself feels; turmoil underneath her skin, singeing through her veins. “Marlene,” she says, her name like a prayer on her lips, “Marlene, what happened?” She swallows, the line of her elegant neck bobbing with it. “How did you—”

“Good morning, love,” says a mediwitch as she breezes into the room, easily recognisable by her pale blue robes. “Good to see you finally awake. You’ve been out for some time.” She gives her a friendly smile as she touches Marlene’s forehead. “No fever. How do you feel?”

Marlene shrugs. “Okay,” she mumbles. She doesn’t particularly care for hospitals or mediwitches.

The mediwitch doesn’t seem discouraged. She only taps her wand against Marlene’s head, her side, her thigh and says, “You were in quite a shape when you arrived.” Well, Marlene will have to take her word for it. She can barely remember her arrival at the hospital, beyond the blood gushing from more than one separate place, and the pain thrumming through every part of her body. She thinks someone told her she’d Splinched herself. She isn’t even sure how she managed to come here. She opens her mouth to ask either one of them but the mediwitch goes on, “You seem much better now.”

“Well, we are in a hospital,” Marlene points out, relishing in the familiar feeling of warmth when Dorcas hides a smile behind her hand. She remembers a time when Dorcas’s smiles were few and far between, like small trophies every time she coaxed one out of her. Lately, they seem to be getting rarer again.

The mediwitch only gives her another smile, a little indulgent. Then she shoves a few potions at her, only one of which Marlene recognises. Memory potion. She’d ask why she needs it but then she couldn’t ask, “How did I get here?” She dutifully drains it, then the other two, while the mediwitch and Dorcas exchange a look. It tastes like metal, like blood. Marlene reaches for her glass of water.

Dorcas opens her mouth, but another voice says, “I believe I will be able to answer that question the best.”

Minerva McGonagall’s face is as stern as it’s ever been, though with more lines than Marlene has apparently cared to remember, her black hair threaded with more grey than it should be.

“Professor McGonagall,” Marlene says, well aware that she’s been out of school for over three years. The compulsion has never stopped, not with Dumbledore, not with Flitwick and apparently not with McGonagall either.

“I’d like a moment with Miss McKinnon, please,” McGonagall says, with a glance at the mediwitch that conveys why-are-you-still-here better than Marlene could have managed it in a speech and a pointed look at Dorcas. “Alone.”

The mediwitch, done with her job, scampers off (Marlene wonders if McGonagall was her professor, too; she certainly looks young—and scared—enough), but Dorcas, less easily intimidated, draws herself up and meets McGonagall’s eyes with her chin up, a look that’s always made Marlene want to kiss her.

“I’m not leaving her side,” she says. Her eyes narrow. “What do you want with her, anyway?” Dorcas has certainly never shared her difficulty of giving their Professors anything else than what she thinks they deserve. It’s what earned her so many detentions back at Hogwarts.

“That is between me and her.” McGonagall gives her a look over the rim of her spectacles. “You will recall, Miss Meadowes, that I was the one that brought Miss McKinnon to St Mungo’s. I certainly don’t intend to cause her harm.”

Dorcas purses her mouth, her jaw ticking, but Marlene can read her well enough to know that she’s slowly backing down. She squeezes her hand and brings it to her mouth, giving her a shaky smile that takes more effort than she wants to admit. She doesn’t know why, but she wants to talk to her old professor alone. She has a feeling it’s important. The potion she took only minutes ago seems to be telling her the same thing.

“It’s okay, Dorcas,” she says, quietly enough that only Dorcas can hear her. “I think I’d like some tea, if you don’t mind getting it for me.”

Dorcas studies her for a minute, her brown eyes dark. She has the most intense eyes Marlene’s ever seen and most of the time it’s a goddamn blessing but right now Marlene just feels like she’s searching for a truth Marlene can’t give her. “If you’re sure,” she says at last, slowly standing up.

Marlene only nods.

Dorcas presses a kiss to her forehead, her lips soft though a bit dry, and walks out the door with one last sharp look at McGonagall.

As soon as the door closes behind her, McGonagall swishes her wand in a movement that Marlene recognises to be a silencing charm. Then she looks at her, one eyebrow raised, lips thin. “Aren’t you going to ask me a question?” she asks.

“Oh. Oh, er—” Marlene grapples for words, silently glad that Moody isn’t here. He would’ve had her hide. “What did you say to me after I punched Wilkes in fifth year?” She adds, that compulsion getting the better of her, “Professor?”

A hint of a smile appears on McGonagall’s face. “’Next time, at least do it while I am not looking,’” she says, which is correct and absolutely one of Marlene’s favourite memories. She toasted to McGonagall’s health a week afterwards. “What was the first thing I gave you detention for?”

“Hexing Lily Evans’s hair pink.”

“Correct.” The smile slowly fades from McGonagall’s face as she comes to sit in the chair beside her bed, next to the one Dorcas occupied. Her face offers no clue as to why she’s here, her eyes rather too intense to have a calming effect. “I wanted to commend you,” she says slowly, “for the exceptional show of your bravery and magical talent that allowed you to escape the Death Eaters’ grasp and get help for your family.”

Marlene raises an eyebrow. Something is not right, something about her expression and her posture—too high-strung, even for her. “You came all the way here and sent Dorcas out just to tell me that, Professor?” she asks. Her voice is getting hoarse again as she reaches for the glass of water, thanking Dorcas silently that she charmed it to be self-refilling.

“Well, it’s no small feat,” says McGonagall, “what you managed. Escaping unaided from a house full of Death Eaters.”

Marlene blinks. Her memory tells her differently, a nagging voice whispering that there was something—no, there was someone. “But I didn’t,” she says with more certainty than she feels. “Escape unaided. At least, I don’t think.” She shakes her head. “You found me?”

“I did.”

“But I—when I Disapparated,” she says slowly, the memories trickling in almost in time with her words. The details are still blurry somewhere, but she remembers it in peculiar flashes. An explosion. A wall against her back, making it impossible to breathe. Cold grey eyes, accompanied by a warm voice. Felicie, on the floor, bloodied, a dark figure over her. Pip, screaming. The gnome with the blue hat and stars above, her lungs straining for air. And then—pain, voices, someone trying to calm her down, Miss, you’re alright, you’re safe, you hit your head. “When I Disapparated, I thought of Dorcas. I’m sure. I thought of her and I ended up—” She looks around the disgustingly white room, breathes in the smell of potions and healing magic. She’s certain she didn’t think of this the moment she disappeared from her house. “—here.”

McGonagall sighs. “I should have come before they gave you that memory potion,” she says, sounding almost tired, “but Rowena always has been cheerfully efficient.”

Marlene glances at her wand, lying on the bedside table, as if it might offer any explanation to McGonagall’s words. It stays painfully quiet.

McGonagall runs a hand over her face, in a rather uncharacteristic show of humanity. “He should have confounded you, but then you might have been unable to escape and I don’t dare to obliviate or confound you now. It would be too suspicious. And all that magic your body’s been subjected to—” she shakes her head, then looks up at her, her eyes far too sharp for Marlene’s liking. “Do you remember, Miss McKinnon, what happened the night the Death Eaters attacked your family?”

She breathes in deep. “More or less.”

McGonagall’s voice is soft, as if she is afraid of being overheard; even here, even surrounded by a wall of silencing charms. “Then you remember what Sirius did.”

Sirius. They had been Sirius’s eyes, his voice, his hands, she’s sure of it. She knew he had been there, in an abstract sort of way. It makes sense that he was—he is, after all, Voldemort’s right-hand man.

A memory surges up, unbidden, his voice soft but firm, They’ll be okay, Mack, I promise, but I can’t blow—

She hit him then, she can remember that much, but she can venture a guess as to what he was going to say. My cover. Realisation comes slowly at first, then all at once and Marlene’s brain struggles to review all the events it’s catalogued in the past years. She can already feel a headache coming.

Sirius, on the King’s Cross, eyes bleak, his parents’ figures like looming statues just meters behind him. Be safe, Mack.

Sirius, in the square, standing before them with his hand steady, but his eyes like shattering diamonds.

Sirius, one of the best wizards of their year if not the whole decade, missing them or using spells that are child’s play in comparison to the rest of the Death Eaters’.

James’s words, unsteady, unsure, He could have killed us and he didn’t. He just—left.

“You—he—he’s a spy,” she whispers, the weight, the deliberateness of his actions finally so, so clear. He got her out. He pretended, he faked, he made sure she escaped.

“Not exactly a spy,” McGonagall says, her cheeks hollow. “We have an understanding. I’m the only one that knows.” She takes off her hat, puts it in the chair beside her and folds her hands back in her lap. “You must understand, Miss McKinnon, what I’m about to tell you cannot, under any circumstances leave this room. Sirius risked more than his life getting you out of there. If anyone were to find out—” The rest of her sentence hangs unspoken but clear.

Marlene can only nod.

McGonagall sighs. “While he was pretending to torture you, Sirius put a spell on you.” His hand, Marlene remembers, resting on her hip. She thought it an anchor. Not too far off the mark then. “It’s a complicated spell, and all the more difficult for having done it wordlessly and under such duress. The spell essentially made you a kind of portkey, ensuring that when you Disapparated, you would end up here.” She gives Marlene a funny look. “Of course, neither one of us expected that your will would be so strong it would fight the spell. You Splinched yourself, partly perhaps because of your physical state, but luckily you didn’t go far. I found you a block away, but you were barely coherent by then. I knew what was going on so I didn’t have to demand information from you. I merely took you in and left you in the care of healers. And I went to the Order headquarters.”

Marlene understands suddenly, with razor-sharp clarity. It was a risky plan, almost every step of it imbued with the possibility of going awry, but all the more brilliant for it. “You were waiting for me,” she breathes. “You needed to find me so that you could have the excuse to tell the Order. To not endanger Sirius. Or me.”

McGonagall nods. “Sirius had sent me a Patronus right before they left for your house. If I had passed the information on immediately, everything Sirius had worked for would be gone. The Order might have also doubted me.”

Marlene exhales a long breath of air. It’s a lot to take in in under five minutes, not to mention with a pounding headache. “But Dumbledore—”

“Sirius didn’t want to involve him,” McGonagall says briskly. Her mouth thins, her eyes darkening. “He wants nothing to do with the Order. And I don’t blame him for it.” She adds, softer, almost gently, “Sirius can be trusted. I will bet my life on it.” Her voice leaves no room for argument and despite herself, Marlene believes her. She leans forward, somehow still managing to keep her posture impeccable. One day, when all of this is over, Marlene will ask her for lessons—it will make her mother thrilled. “No one can know, Miss McKinnon, what he’s doing.”

“And the Death Eaters? They don’t suspect him?”

McGonagall shakes her head. “So far, he hasn’t given them a reason not to. You-Know-Who takes him for his most loyal subject.”

Marlene shudders at the thought of what exactly Sirius had to do to achieve that kind of title among the fiercest of supporters. Just to have received the Dark Mark, he had to have ripped his heart out. She can almost hear his laugh at that, bitter but more bark than bite. I don’t have a heart, Mack, he would say while slipping a cigarette between his lips, lighting it with the tip of his thumb. My mother took it away long ago.

“He had to pay for letting you get away, of course, but he is fine now,” McGonagall says. Her voice, the pain in it slowly disappearing, lowers. She cares about him, Marlene realises, as much as any of them do. “As far as you know, Sirius tortured you and you barely managed to get away. No one, not even Miss Meadowes, can know about what truly happened.” Her eyes are dark. She’s always been a no-nonsense sort of woman, strict but fair, not gentle, but never unkind either. It is the first time Marlene sees a different kind of edge to her. “If you don’t intend to agree, I am not above obliviating you.”

Marlene’s heart constricts at the thought of keeping anything from Dorcas. She hasn’t done so since their seventh year when the biggest secret she had been keeping from her was that she wanted to snog her senseless. Doing this would feel like lying, like cheating. But Sirius—

Sirius’s gap-toothed smile from behind his mother’s robes while his parents and her grandmother were talking. He rolled his eyes behind their backs when her grandmother said something particularly vile and their friendship was solidified forever.

Sirius’s grin when he was Sorted into Gryffindor, bright and brilliant, but with just with enough of a tremor that Marlene wondered if she was the only one that could see the dread beneath.

The prank war and the havoc they wreaked when they teamed up in fifth year, ending themselves in detention for the rest of term, but laughing themselves into oblivion anyway.

A cigarette, just the one between the two of them, the smoke just beginning to drift out of his mouth when she finally got enough courage to utter the words. I think I’m bent. His answering huff of laughter, not harsh at all, but as gentle as his hand on her shoulder when he drew her in a hug. Aren’t we a pair.

His arms around her, the two of them spin-spin-spinning around an empty classroom, as he sang, horribly loud and off-key, until her sobs turned into laughter, until her cheeks were wet from tears of joy, until it was just another dance with Sirius, amazingly coordinated, easily in-sync, as it had always been.

“I know it’s not an easy decision to make,” McGonagall says.

But that’s just it—it’s so easy it scares her. It’s no decision at all. “I’ll do it. I will. I promise.” Her voice sounds far away to her own ears, but it doesn’t tremble.

McGonagall blinks. “Very well.” A second of silence. “I’m glad. And I’m glad you’re alright, too.” She places her hat back on her head and stands up, brushing off non-existent lint from her emerald-green robes. She presents an impressive picture, like she always has, but the line of her mouth, the set of her jaw don’t seem as firm as they once did. Marlene wonders if she is just as afraid as she is, as all of them are, but decides it must be just the blow to the head talking. “I hope you and your family make a full and quick recovery, Miss McKinnon.” she says and walks towards the door.

“Tell him thank you,” Marlene gets out before she can open it. McGonagall stops but doesn’t turn. “For all of it.” She swallows. “I will not let him down.”

“I know you won’t, Miss McKinnon,” McGonagall says, an edge of a smile to her lips, and walks out.

Dorcas comes in only moments after McGonagall’s left, her beautiful ringlets mussed all around her face, her t-shirt rumpled, a little colour now returned to her face. She’s lost weight, Marlene only now notices. Because of her, Marlene, because she was worried about her. And somehow, the sight of her sleep-deprived, tea-carrying form is simultaneously the most beautiful and heart-breaking thing Marlene’s ever seen. She feels a lump in her throat, her eyes burning.

Dorcas’s face crumples. “Oh, Lene, oh, love,” she whispers and crosses the space between them to throw herself onto the bed beside her. (The tea somehow ends up on the bedside table, unspilled.)

Her body on Marlene’s is a weight that is definitely not helping her injuries but Marlene doesn’t care and just wraps her arms around her and pulls her closer. Dorcas smells like dry leaves and chamomile tea, but, as if the hospital has sunk its claws in her as well, like sleep and the bitter smell of potions, too. Marlene burrows closer to breathe her in. She hopes Dorcas can feel the words she wants to tell her, but simply doesn’t have the courage to say, in the kiss she presses to her neck, in the strength of her arms around her, with every breath of air against her skin. I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I love you, I love you, I won’t ever go again.

“It’s okay, Lene,” Dorcas whispers, her hand carding through her hair like she understands. Then again, as if she’s trying to convince herself as well, “It’s okay.”

But it’s not. It’s not okay and it won’t be for some time. But the promise of a new tomorrow that the feel of Dorcas in her arms brings, the newfound knowledge of Sirius, the sight of the sun, shining clear and strong, is enough to make her think that someday it will be.

#harry potter #sirius black #marlene mckinnon #death eater sirius black #not really #but technically #post hogwarts #first war with voldemort #dorcas meadowes #minerva mcgonagall #mckinnon family #ocs #dorcas x marlene #sirius x marlene #dorlene #blackinnon #(platonic)#attack on the mckinnons #in a world three degrees north

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clan-sayeed-fic · 5 years ago

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Let me earn your trust (Kamilah Sayeed & MC)

Previous chapters: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10

Book: Bloodbound (property of Pixelberry Studios) Pairing: Kamilah Sayeed & MC: Amy (I do not own those characters, they're the property of Pixelberry Studios as well) Warnings: strong language, very little fluff/smut? (it turns out I don’t know what I’m writing about at this point hahaha) Rating: Mature Author's note: I'm not a native English speaker, I'm sorry for any mistakes (feel free to correct me).

I must say, I wasn't expecting to upload this story at all. And here we are, in the middle of what I have already written. And I haven't even got to the ending... let's say I'm gonna torture you with this story till you'll have enough of it. 😋

Today's chapter is the longest so far, hope you'll enjoy it. The first time I'm not giving hints about what will happen in the next chapter. I hope you like mysteries!😘

~ 2600 words

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Chapter 11

The smell of sweat filled the room.

Another scream echoed between the walls when Lily went flying through the whole length of the gym, finally hitting the floor.

"Again," Kamilah's cold voice was repeating the same word over and over.

Amy buried her face in her hands. She was sitting on the floor against the mirror on the wall. They were in the private training hall which apparently, Kamilah had in her company building.

"Come on," Lily panted, barely standing on her feet. "How can you not even stumble a little?!"

Indeed, for this whole time, Kamilah was barely touchable. The only moments when Kamilah was within Lily's reach happened because the woman by herself let her to. There was no sweat on Kamilah's body, no heavy breathing coming out of her lungs. She kept her upright posture the whole time. The only thing that had been changing was the color of her eyes, which turned red every time Lily planned to attack.

"Because I'm focusing, unlike you," Kamilah growled, annoyed.

Lily steadied her body. It was easy to recognize that she was losing her temper. Pain and exhaustion were reaching their limits within her. After each strike, her wounds healed impossibly fast, which was the advantage of being a newly turned. But it has its cons too. Her body was regularly devastated and healed.

And even the healing process could hurt sometimes depending on the injury.

Lily looked at Kamilah one more time, searching for weak points in her defensive position. Finally, she attacked, using her vampire speed, which made everything go blurry before Amy's eyes.

And then one more time: sounds of loud breaths, punching, scream, and Lily was on the floor writhing in pain.

Amy stood up momentarily, wanting to help her friend. She had an impulse to do it whenever Lily fell on the floor. And like every time before, now too, Kamilah's red eyes stopped her from doing this. The woman wanted the newly turned vampire to handle herself without help.

"Again," Kamilah was always ready.

"No," Lily stood up, her cracked bones healed loudly, making her bend in pain. "We did it like a hundred times, no more," sweat all over her face.

Amy knew already how this would turn out. Kamilah's eyes were still red. Not because of the fight this time, but the rage that burned inside of her. There was not much that Amy could do in this situation, so she stayed silent and watched the women.

"Do you realize that you are in no position to argue?" Kamilah's voice sharp like it could cut through anything. "The meeting will begin in a few hours. That doesn't give us much time to improve your skills."

"Yeah, exactly!" Lily shouted. "What's the point of all of this?" she made a gesture showing the training hall.

"Degree of your training might be our only chance to convince the Council from giving you a death sentence," Kamilah frowned at how reckless Lily acted.

Since they had no time anymore on convincing members of the Council before the meeting, they had to come up with a new idea. Adrian reminded Kamilah that back in the days the Council used to make its decisions based on how well trained the newly turned vampire was.

Kamilah did great by training Lily. And the girl by herself made enormous progress. But still, Kamilah was afraid that it might not have been enough. And she needed to be sure that it would be, thinking of Adrian's fate.

"I know," Lily became upset. At this point, Amy had a remarkably hard time standing in one place. "Just give me a break, ok?"

"Fifteen minutes," Kamilah ordered.

Lily inhaled deeply and turned to the exit. Finally, Amy moved into her direction, wanting to comfort her. But, to her great astonishment, that was not what her friend needed at the time.

"Don't, seriously," Lily didn't even bother to look at her. "I wanna be alone right now."

Amy stopped heartbroken. They had known each other for very long. Amy had time to learn that the best she could do in such moments was to let her be. No matter how hard it was for her to resist the urge of hugging Lily and telling her that she did great, it would do more harm than good.

Finally, Amy composed herself and turned around to Kamilah, feeling angry at her.

The woman walked to the corner of the hall, where she left her things. She drank water from the bottle and took off her training gloves, throwing them to the opened bag.

"You didn't have to be so harsh," Amy's voice was full of complaint.

"Live won't be easy for her either," Kamilah turned to face the girl. "Besides, I wasn't harsh. I'm sure even you could have dealt with it."

Amy's eyes raised. She was surprised by Kamilah's statement, and looking at her made Amy believe in the woman's words even less.

Kamilah stood in front of her wearing a black, simple sports bra and leggings. Her hair back into a loose ponytail, letting some of the hair fell from behind her ears. Her darker complexion was shining from the effort she put in training Lily. Muscles in her body highlighted by the faint light that was reaching the corner. Amy looked into her eyes and swallowed nervously.

"Yeah," she chuckled. "I truly doubt that,"

Amy wanted to turn from Kamilah when she felt her hand grabbing Amy by the wrist swirling her around till she stood with her back against Kamilah's chest. The grip on Amy's wrist was still solid when Kamilah lowered her head to her neck, making Amy shiver.

"Why don't you let me prove you wrong?" a sweet whisper from Kamilah's mouth straight into the soft skin.

Amy barely stopped the moan from escaping her mouth when the other hand moved from her hip, up to her waist. Slowly getting under her shirt, like she was waiting for a reaction.

You're angry at her, remember? Amy told herself in thoughts and with difficulty broke free from Kamilah's grip, causing her smirk with satisfaction.

"All right, I'll try," Amy's breath quickened already. "I can't see how this is supposed to prove anything since your way much stronger and faster."

"I won't use my advantages," Kamilah ensured, taking the position. "Try to hit me."

Amy inhaled deeply, showing a lack of confidence. But despite doubts, she made a fist out of her right palm. And when she wanted to attack, hesitation hit her with doubled strength.

"This is ridiculous," Amy laughed nervously.

"Of course, it is when you're preparing yourself to..." Kamilah said ironically.

Then, Amy hit her, acting impulsively. She certainly caught the woman off guard, but still, Kamilah blocked her effortlessly. She made Amy stumble a little, but there was no pain after Kamilah's defending move.

"Not bad," Kamilah said honestly, "try again."

"Oh no, I know how it goes with your 'again'..." Amy made an impression of Kamilah quite adequately.

Amy wanted to say something more, but she sensed the attack coming before Kamilah even planned to do this. Thanks to that, Amy dodged to the side at the right time, making Kamilah lose full strength on the missed attack.

The woman turned around with an impressed expression on her face.

"How did you do that?" Kamilah couldn't hide how dazzled she was.

"Um..." Amy looked at her own hands.

Then, Kamilah attacked again, trying to prove her theory.

Amy blocked every attack in a similar way that Kamilah did previously. The girl wasn't impossibly strong or agile. She just knew where Kamilah would hit and with what force.

After a series of attacks, Kamilahs stopped, her breath increased.

"This is quite a discovery," this time, the woman took Amy's hand gently, trying to figure out how was it even possible for someone without training to achieve something like that.

She didn't use her vampire abilities, but still. Amy was not muscular, her arms were weak, and she could not even beat properly.

"I guess," Amy smiled, but it was weird for her too. "I'm just better at defending myself."

"That's for sure," Kamilah stopped examining Amy, but her hand was still resting on her arm.

They stood close for long seconds, looking into each other's eyes.

Then, they heard a throat clearing, which ruined the moment.

"I don't wanna interrupt or something," Lily stood in the entrance, smiling widely. Her mood went back to its normal state.

Amy blushed, stepping away from Kamilah. The woman looked at the clock hanging on the wall to see that twenty minutes had passed.

"You're late," Kamilah stated a fact.

"Isn't that a good thing?" Lily couldn't help but tease.

"Why don't you find out and try to fight me?" Kamilah crossed her arms, with a daring look in her eyes.

Lily's smile faded when she understood that she just made her own existence a lot harder.

***

It was the hour of the Council meeting. Amy was told to stay in Kamilah's office while the rest of them went to the conference room to meet with the others from the Council. Amy knew that one of them would be Priya, and she doubted if the woman would vote on Lily's side.

There was the Baron who was at least likable from the men of the Council. Kamilah was sure that they would have to make a deal with him to persuade him on voting- aye. But nothing was certain with this vampire.

She heard about Lester. That Adrian had an argument with him recently, so they didn't even count on his vote.

There was their new Clan leader, Jax. He would undoubtedly vote on Lily's side since he knew how it felt to be Clanless. He remembered constant fear of becoming feral too well.

The last one was Adam Vega, the least predictable. He appeared fine but always needed more power. His vote depended on how beneficial the whole situation would turn out for him.

***

Amy kept walking from desk to doors, with her arms crossed.

It has been nearly an hour since the meeting started. How long could it take? She was curious about how Lily performed her skills before the Council members. If they even wanted to test how well trained she was.

Finally, Adrian walked in, making Amy jump.

"And?" she couldn't wait anymore.

Adrian looked at her with his eyes full of tiredness.

"It's not looking good," he said honestly, "We need to convince Adam to vote on our side," he was deadly serious. "He wants to talk with you."

"What?" Amy was shocked. "Why me?"

"He is considering you a threat," Adrian didn't have to put this gently. "He wants to know how did you manage to convince me to turn Lily. Of course, you don't have to agree on this if you don't want to."

Amy straightened up, feeling ready.

"I do," she forced a confident smile, "we win this today."

Amy followed Adrian to the conference room. When they walked in, the first person that she saw was Kamilah sitting in the most important seat. She was looking through the window, frowning.

Lily was standing by the wall, she wasn't smiling like before. Amy wondered what had happened there in her absence because the tension in the air seemed almost touchable.

Kamilah could smell Amy's perfume, and that's what made her took her eyes off the city. She was surprised to see the girl standing in the room next to Adrian.

"Adrian," her voice cold, "I thought we made a decision."

Adrian gulped unsurely under Kamilah's gaze. He hated to disagree with her.

"I..." he started, but Amy interrupted.

"You wanted to talk with me," her eyes moved to Adam, who was sitting between Priya and Lester.

"I did," he smiled, "I wanted to meet this infamous human being."

He looked over Amy's body like he was worried that someone of her average height could be a threat to him. Amy fought the urge to correct her pose as she managed to hold his gaze.

Priya obviously recognized Amy even if nearly 4 months had passed since they met. The fashion designer laughed loudly and spoke with irony.

"So first you're making me fire my employee... and then, Adrian to change your friend into the vampire," she licked her lips hungrily. "You've got some nerve."

Amy stepped nervously. She knew that Priya's words were not working in the interest of this case. And as she predicted, Adam became even more suspicious toward her.

"How could someone owning such a weak body, convince the most powerful creature walking on Earth to do something against its will," Adam said, wondering.

Amy could sense that Kamilah was trying her best, not interrupting.

"I would say that I can be pretty convincing," Amy smiled sweetly, trying to buy herself some time to collect her thoughts.

"I can see this happening," he said, scratching his beard. "But still, what Adrian could have from saving your friend? What could you possibly give him?"

I'm a fucking Bloodkeeper, Amy's thoughts screamed. She wasn't sure if she should have ever trusted Adrian or Kamilah. But, one thing was clear, Adam was far away from gaining her appreciation.

"Listen to me, Vega," Amy spoke with a strength in her voice, making everyone in the room freeze. "I know that I'm in the way. The human who knows about vampires... it can not be convenient." Adam wanted to deny, but she kept going, "You would like to kill me to keep me quiet, but it's against the rules," she was looking directly into his eyes. "On the other hand, a human who knows about vampires is... also against the rules.'' Noone interrupted her. ''There is only one solution."

Amy made a pause, giving everyone a chance to rethink her words. She knew she was walking a fine line, but there was no way back.

Vega seemed to be shocked by Amy's confidence. Actually, everyone in the room was, even herself. Words just left her mouth like she was a completely different person.

"Then, Amy," Adam said, "what solution would you suggest?"

Exactly, what do you suggest, Amy thought. It's not like she wasn't prepared or anything. She felt more afraid now that it would not be enough.

"We make a deal," Amy gulped, partially losing her confidence. "You, vote aye, and I..." that wasn't smart, she knew that right now, "will owe you a favor."

Everyone in the room moved significantly after those words. Adam let out a whistle as he was considering Amy's offer.

"That's not an option," Kamilah stood up, losing control.

Lily wanted to say something, but Adrian stopped her, keeping her by the arm. He didn't want things to go any more complicated than they already had become.

"Why would I want your favor?" Adam asked, ignoring Kamilah's words.

"You said it yourself," Amy kept his gaze. "How could I control two different vampires, "she kept on repeating his words, changing her tone to more sarcastic. "The most powerful creatures walking on Earth, right?" her left eyebrow lifted for a moment.

Adam leaned back in his chair. He kept on scratching his beard.

In the room fell silence of anticipation.

"Aye, then," Adam's voice, loudly cutting through the silence.

Kamilah let out a breath after hearing this. She should feel happy and relieved because they won. Lily was saved from becoming feral. Adrian, free from punishment. But at what cost?

Right then, Amy realized that she started playing a remarkably dangerous game.

And she was just the beginner since they all had been playing in it for centuries.

Next chapter: 12

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tag list: @onyxgaytrash, @lightning-fury, @scarlet-letter-a0114, @caliseds

#kamilah sayeed #kamilah x mc #bloodbound kamilah #bb kamilah #bloodbound mc #bb mc #bloodkeeper #vampires #lily spencer #the council #adrian raines #priya lacroix #adam vega #bloodbound #choices bloodbound #choices bb #choices stories you play #choices fanfiction #choices fic

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missbrightsky · 4 years ago

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I could drink a whole damn case

Fics Masterlist

EXPLICT

The loud music drove its way into my chest, the beat keeping time with my heart. Sweat gathered on my brow and dripped down my back, the clubs’ tightly packed dancefloor was hot and humid with all the bodies.

I was having the best and worst night of my life.

Worst because I broke up with Tamlin earlier that week, a screaming match that nearly got the cops called on us and ended with me walking out the door. I was fucking done with his mental manipulation and bullshit. He couldn’t control me, period.

Best because I broke up with Tamlin and Alis pulled me out for a night of drinking and dancing at a new club, Velaris. Its brightly colored lights and drinks combined with the mist in the air gave the club goers the impression that they were inside of a rainbow. A loud, densely packed rainbow but the effect wasn’t lost.

I flicked my golden-brown hair over one shoulder so I could glance back to look at Alis. The two of us had been switching back and forth, one grinding on the other. It was our favorite way to dance, we both knew the others moves like second nature.

“I need another drink,” I shouted into Alis’s ear, something cool and sweet to keep my buzz going.

“I’ll join you in a bit,” she responded, half turning away to catch the eye of a guy that has been looking at them all night.

Satisfied that she would be fine, I wove through the twisting bodies to the bar that took up the entirety of one wall, finding the bartender that had been our go-to for the night. She was a few inches taller than me, even with me in heels, with gold hair that was pulled in a high ponytail. The clubs’ lights sometimes caught in her eyes, making the brown glow amber tinged with mischief.

When she saw me heading towards her, her hands were already halfway to the shelf. I had left the decision making to her tonight, asking each time to surprise me with anything as long as it was sweet.

I got lucky as someone vacated their seat while I was walking up and slid into their place. The bartender, Mor, as the stitching on her shirt said, slid a pink and yellow drink across the bar to me, condensation already sliding down the side.

I took a sip and grinned at the subtle punch of lemonade that lit up my taste buds. Twisting in the seat, I faced the dance floor to watch the shifting crowd and colors. My eyes scanned the crowd and saw Alis enjoying herself with someone tall and lean. I might be Ubering home alone tonight, but I didn’t care if that meant hardworking Alis got some action.

On one of my passes of the room, that’s when I saw him.

He flowed through the bodies, a dance of his own. His black shirt was tight over his shoulders, the lettering on the back branding him a bouncer for Velaris. His hair was black that glowed blue under the moving spotlights, shaggy and damp with sweat. As he got closer, I could see his long legs, clad in dark slacks that clung to his muscular thighs.

He could fuck me against a wall all night... The thought flashed through my mind, causing more blood to rush into my already flushed cheeks and burn the tips of my ears. I shouldn’t be looking for a hook up only days after ending a two-year-long relationship, but here I was, taking in his tall, muscled frame and my core tightened in wanting.

He was now only feet away, his path taking him to pass right in front of me. I was in danger of being caught staring but I couldn’t bring herself to look elsewhere.

And caught I was.

His eyes connected with mine, a white light passing over his face at that moment. I inhaled sharply.

His eyes were blue. Bluer than where the sky meant the horizon at dusk. Bluer than the ocean on a summer day. Blue eyes like the night sky, sparkling with what looked like silver stars scattered in them.

He smirked at my open appreciation at him, his stride not breaking a beat. I squeezed my crossed legs tighter together for any bit of friction, and to keep me from making a mistake like intercepting his path.

He passed in front of my seat at the bar, turning towards me to slip past the crush of people. His smirk turned into a feline grin as his eyes slid down my body, taking in every curve and dip.

I had opted for a combination of comfort and style. Ripped jeans that were tight to my legs, a favorite pair that showed off my ass fabulously. Black, slightly open-toed heels with a low wedge and a cropped, maroon sweater to ward off the outside chill but still be lightweight enough to let me breathe in the club. He met my eyes again, turning my insides molten with the intense heat that simmered in them.

And with that he was gone, leaving me gawking at his back as he continued through the maze of drunk bodies.

I turned back to the bar and took a long pull from my drink, the cold rushing down my chest. I looked up from my drink and saw Mor trying to hide a laugh. I somehow flushed even darker at the bartenders’ knowing smirk, she probably saw girls and guys drool over that bouncer all the time.

I focused on my drink, trying to banish the thoughts creeping in about the man and what I could do to him. If I had the guts to look at Mor again, I would’ve seen the scheming glint in her eyes.

I finished my drink, the alcohol soaking into my system and I was ready to get back on the dance floor. Alis hadn’t gone far where I left her, still teasing the man she had found to take my spot.

Instead of coaxing my friend away from him, I sidled up to where the two of them where dancing chest to chest and pressed my hips flush against Alis’s.

Alis stiffened slightly and then relaxed when she saw that it was me who had joined the duo. I pressed an open-mouth kiss underneath her jawline, determined to put the blue-eyed bouncer out of my mind and focus on having fun.

I had never defined my sexuality. In college, I had experimented, trying out whatever situation was presented to me. Alis had been the same way and we had compared notes, dissecting what we liked and didn’t like. Whenever we went out drinking together, we shared kisses, but it never went any farther for us. It was fun and easy, a way for both of us to enjoy ourselves with no worries of messy drama.

Alis turned her head to allow me better access to her neck and I obliged, moving my hips in a synchronous rhythm to a wordless song that filled the club. The guy moved one hand from Alis’s waist to mine, thinking that he might get very lucky tonight. He had no chance in hell of bringing us both home, but I wasn’t about to shrug off the attention.

I grinned at the guy, nodding at Alis for him to take over for me. He picked up on the suggestion and eagerly claimed her mouth.

Midnight eyes met mine over the guy's shoulder, a mixture of shock and arousal swirling in them. Someone saw my little interaction with Alis and didn’t know what to make of it.

Fuck it, I thought, my turn. For someone that could turn my mind downright sinful, he was easily transfixed.

I nudged the pair so that I was half facing the bouncers’ eyeline, a perfect angle to see my true skills.

I steadied myself and showcased every move. Every twist of the hips that I’ve spent years perfecting, even when Tamlin barred me from going out. My hands slid up Alis’ body, halting just underneath her bra to pull her body flush to mine. I traced one hand over the guy's shoulder, lightly raking my nails down his back. All the time maintaining eye contact with the bouncer.

I bared my teeth slightly, in what might have been called a challenge wrapped up in a grin. His eyes darkened with something predatory and feral, ready to meet me head-on. There was no shortage of other women openly staring at him, ready to invite him into their personal space. But his club shirt reminded them that he was on duty and knew better than to tempt fate by asking him to join them, lest they get kicked out for unwelcome behavior.

All he could do was stand there and watch as me as I worked way up and down Alis’s neck, scraping my teeth in all the places that caused her to moan into the guy's mouth. My hips twisted and turned, weaving to the wild beat of the song.

My hands wandered the male dancer, teasing but never exploring past his shoulders and chest. At one point, he attempted to turn his attention on me, but I expertly dodged his advance and refocused him on Alis. I had no intention of letting him double dip tonight.

When one song melded into the next, I broke away from the still dancing pair, neither noticing me slip away.

I locked eyes with my audience as I made my way towards him. His gaze never deviated from my face, lust written across his mouth and high cheekbones. When I was less than a foot from him, I let my eyes flick up and down his tall frame, taking in the name stitched over his heart, not bothering to hide my obvious appraisal of him.

Rhysand.

I tested out the name in my mind. Oh, that would be delicious to scream out in bed. I refused to give one goddamn fuck that I’ve only been single for a scant few days. All the bullshit Tamlin put me through, I fucking deserved to get lost in some else’s body.

Instead of stopping in front of him, I brushed by him, holding his stare until the last possible moment. His head bent slightly to brush his nose across my temple as I passed, eyes glazed over and half-closed.

I continued towards the back of the club, tossing a look over my shoulder and… there he was, following me. I faced forward, a smirk playing over my lips. Hook, line, sinker.

The back of the club held the hallway to the bathrooms and the exit to the loading dock where club-goers could escape for a smoke, or for a bit of privacy. It was there Rhys caught up to me, his heat seeping through my clothes and teasing my bare skin. His breath rushed over my neck as he reached around my body to the handle that would lead outside, twisting it with a deft flick.

I lingered a moment longer in his presence and then stepped into the cool night. A quick sweep of the wide alley revealed that we were completely, utterly, alone.

I pivoted to see him leaning up against the door, hair shining in the overhead lights and eyes boring into me.

Stepping back into the warmth of his body, I had to tilt my head back to look into the deep ocean that threatened to swallow me up.

He slowly, gently placed his hands on my hips, watching for my reaction, so at odds with his confident demeanor. I pressed closer at his contact, raising slightly onto my toes to bring my mouth to his.

I knew my breath was sweet with alcohol but his was cool, more refreshing than what any bartender could mix up. My hands reached up to tangle in his hair, pulling him down to meet me.

Any hesitation he had disappeared. Faster than I could register, he had me pinned against the club door, the cold metal biting into my back.

I bit down hard on his lip causing him to groan and press into me even more. I could feel how much he wanted me through the layers of clothes, hard and unyielding.

I hooked a leg over his and pulled him infinitely closer, writhing on his suppressed erection. In retaliation, he moved from my mouth to my neck, biting hard over where he could surely taste my pulse.

It was my turn to moan, the sound echoing loudly in the outdoor space.

Rhys chuckled at the sound and repeated the action on the space where my neck met my shoulder, earning a whine from my throat.

His lips were in my ear. “My place or yours?”

“Bold of you to think that I would take you home, you don’t even know my name.”

Rhys’s teeth caught my earlobe, tugging gently to elicit more wordless cries from me.

“What’s your name, darling,” his lips curling around the word causing me to suppress a shiver at the endearment.

“Feyre,” I managed to breathe.

“Well then Feyre, my place or yours?”

“Yours.”

Crushing his mouth to mine again, I forgot the whole point of my night as my focus narrowed to every point of contact he was giving me.

He broke the kiss off suddenly and laced his fingers through mine. “Follow me,” came his purr.

He led me down the steps, heading towards where the alley met the street. In my intoxicated state and one-handed, I managed to send off what I hoped was coherent text to Alis where I had gone for the night and that I would text her in the morning.

I bumped into Rhys, causing me to look up from my phone to see a jet-black motorcycle.

“You can’t be fucking serious,” I said, raising an eyebrow at him.

“I fucking am, darling,” he said with a feral grin, “Unless you’re scared.”

I looked him up and down, taking in his tall frame. “Never,” I breathed.

He smirked at me and popped open a compartment. He handed me a helmet and then fastened his own. Rhys straddled the bike in a fluid motion, making my mouth go dry at the subtle power in his body.

I approached him, sliding a hand along his shoulders and down to his waist. I copied his motion, settling behind him. Any chill in the air was chased away from the heat that he radiated. I pressed closer, savoring every point of contact between us. Such a delicious precursor of what was to come.

“Hold on tight.” He kicked the bike into life, its loud roaring loud filled my ears. I followed his advice and wrapped my arms around his chest, not a second too soon as we shot forward and smoothly pulled onto the street.

I shout of exhilaration escaped my lips. Late night traffic blurred by, red and white and neon. I could feel his laughter at my reaction rumble into my chest, thrumming along with the purr of the bike.

Wind ripped my hair this way and that, tangling it with its fingers, coaxing me to give in to the feeling of the night. Coaxing me to leave my troubles and worries far, far behind. Tamlin was a thing of the past, barely a blip on my radar.

I echoed Rhys’s laugh; pure exhilaration cleansed my soul. I dared a glance up at his face, taking in the wicked delight that played across it. Light played across his features, chasing away the dark mystery of the night club bouncer.

Soon, too soon, we slowed, reaching our destination. We stopped in one of the quieter neighborhoods in front of a townhouse. The tall brick structure stood dark but not imposing. There were hints that this was someone’s home, not just a house. Window boxes held blooming flowers, even in the chilly weather. A wreath of fall leaves hung on the door.

Rhys shut off the motorcycle, silence rushing in to replace its noise. I unfastened my helmet, sliding off the bike. He followed me soon after, taking the helmet from my hands and storing them in a compartment.

He turned to me, those violet eyes settling on my face. Heat flooded to my cheeks at his intense stare.

“What?” I managed to breathe.

His eyes roved, drinking in my flushed cheeks and swollen lips. A half grin formed on his lips, “Nothing.” Rhys slipped his hand in mine, pulling me forward.

A few short steps up and a quick twist of the lock later, we were inside the entryway, golden light flooding the hall. His hand still in mine, he used it to back me up against the door, gripping my free hand in his and bringing it up to join the other one. He pinned my wrists above my head with one hand, letting his other one trail downward.

He pressed an open mouth kiss to my neck, causing me to groan and arch into his body.

More more more, pounded in my blood, in my core. Rhys lifted his head, bringing his lips to the shell of my ear. Hot air rushed past, eliciting a whine in the back of my throat. “What would you like to do, darling?”

My knees buckled, only saved by him pressing me harder into the door. He pressed his lips to mine, not giving me the chance to answer his question.

I almost said everything, not wanting to completely yield to him… yet. My focus narrowed to his free hand that had settled on my waist but was now tracing the bare skin of my stomach, skimming higher and higher until it toyed with the edge of my sweater.

He paused his ministrations, looking to see if it was ok.

“Touch me,” my voice came out low and rough, something that it had never done with Tamlin.

Again, that wicked grin flashed, his teeth nipping at my jaw as his hand slid under my sweater, his knuckles grazing the underside of my breast. Thank god I had forgone a bra tonight. Gooseflesh sprung up in the wake of his touch. Another groan was swallowed up by his mouth.

My nipples tightened to an almost painful point, begging for attention. He finally fulfilled my plea, palming my breast and kneading it with his deft fingers. All the while continuing to press bruising kisses to my lips, swallowing each and every sound I made. His lips moved to my neck, biting hard and sucking the skin to the point of pleasurable pain. He soothed over the hurt with a brush of the tongue before repeating on the other side, determined to mark me as his own. I was ready to take the consequences with Alis tomorrow.

With my hands pinned by him, I had to resort to hooking one leg around the back of his, trying to pull him infinitely closer. He pressed me more into the door, the outline of his desire grinding hard into the apex of my thighs.

Caldron boil me, I was ready to come just by the pressure and we weren’t even naked yet. I sunk my teeth into his bottom lip, a silent request to go further, for him to take even more.

Rhys released my wrists and I let them drop onto his shoulders, gripping the sturdy muscle with my nails. He slid his hands down, down, down my body, slowing tracing every curve like he wanted to burn the memory of them into his palms. He continued their path down to my thighs where he hooked my other leg around his and cupped the back of my legs. Not even breaking contact with my mouth, he tightened his grip and hoisted me up to straddle him midair.

A gasp escaped my lips as we broke apart, answered by his chuckle.

“Not used to being picked up?” he asked, a challenging glint in his eyes.

“Shut up,” I growled, reclaiming his mouth. He was all too happy to oblige. The wood of the door dug into my back again, a welcome steadiness that offset the energy of the man who kept me there. My head spun with the aftereffects of alcohol, but I was sure it was mostly due to Rhys barely letting me come up for air between the kisses and my groans.

“Let’s take this upstairs, shall we darling?” he eventually whispered in my ear. I mutely nodded back, not trusting my voice. He slowly slid me to the ground, not giving up one inch of contact. He kicked off his shoes and I followed suit, yanking off the heels, grateful to finally be out of them and on more steady ground. I would need all the help I could get if he was to continue his ministrations on the way up the stairs.

When our shoes were in a pile by the door, he wrapped his arm around my back, tracing small circles on the exposed skin there and led the way up the stairs.

Photos dotted the walls, but it was too dark to make out the faces in them. Turning left at the top, we were soon at the threshold of his room, adorned in dark, warm colors with a huge bed taking up the back wall. Rhys cast a glance at me, checking again if I was okay being here. After all, we had just met.

My turn, the thought a twin to the one at the club, ready to meet the challenge of Rhys.

I trailed my nails down his body, gently digging in and pushing him towards the bed. I looked up, his violet eyes burning like the beginning and the end of the galaxy. My gut clenched at the intensity of his gaze. I wanted to dance and paint and live and die in them. Dangerous territory for a rebound hookup.

When the back of his knees bumped the edge of the mattress, I continued pressure on his chest. He sat down, not once breaking eye contact with me. I was the first to look away, to follow my fingers as they traced his body to where his shirt was tucked in. A quick tug freed the edge of the polo, my palms pressing into the hot flesh beneath.

Up, up, up I tugged his shirt, savoring every dip and rivet of muscle in his chest, admiring the tattoos that appeared. His heart set a fast pace under my palm, but his breathing was almost nonexistent. I pulled the shirt over his head and discarded it on the floor beside us.

I met his eyes again, sharp with a hunger that had me crashing my mouth onto his again. He returned the favor, slipping my disheveled top up and over my head to join his on the floor.

He pulled me down onto his lap, a hard length rising to meet me. The pressure there was nearly enough to unhinge me. His hands rose again to pay attention to my now exposed nipples, causing an embarrassing whine to escape my throat. A second later, his mouth covered one breast, tongue flicking against the raised peak.

I gasped, arching into his sinful ministrations. “Fuck,” the groan dragged from my mouth. I was fast on my way to forgetting my name.

Teeth flashed in the dark, the nip sending shivers straight down my spine. Rhys smoothed over the small hurt with his tongue, going lower and lower. His hands wrapped around my waist and deftly flipped me to be under him. My surprised yelp earned me a wicked grin and the popping of my jeans button. I dragged my fingers through his raven hair, tangled from the ride here.

There was no hesitation in his movements, now sure that I didn’t want to think and only wanted him to continue. I lifted my hips, helping him slip my pants down my legs, him trailing kisses the whole way down my legs and then back up. I was sure my underwear was already soaked through when his hot breath fanned over that sensitive area.

One finger traced up and down my aching seam, endlessly teasing me. “Rhys,” I dragged out of my throat, a plea and a prayer. “Please,” I added, reduced to begging.

My plea didn’t go unanswered as he increased pressure, directly on my clit. A cry tore from my mouth, black and white stars blocking my vision. What the hell is this man doing to me? Nothing Tamlin ever did made me this ready to come this fast. I banished the name from my mind, determined to never think of him again during sex. Or ever.

Rhys slipped his fingertip under the top edge of my underwear, running along the elastic band. I growled at his unhurried movements, nearly writhing in anticipation.

Finally, finally, he pulled my underwear down, the movement quick and vicious, not giving me time to process what happened before his tongue delved into my core.

Leashed lightning lashed down my spine, causing me to arch almost fully off the mattress, blood rushing to the surface of my skin. I would have been embarrassed at my state had it not been that Rhys now wholly focused on feasting on me.

He was a man who had starved himself his whole life for this moment. Up and down and in and out his tongue explored me, flicking over my clit, each motion drawing a different sound from me.

It wasn’t until I came not twice, but three times did he finally let up, that grin as sharp as ever, his eyes ever darker with lust. How I was going to survive the rest of the night, I wasn’t sure.

I needed, no, wanted to return the favor but every bone and muscle in my body had melted in the forge of pleasure and failed to respond to my commands. Rhys licked and kissed his way back up my body, my juices covering his chin. He claimed my mouth again and I tasted myself on his lips. A groan was all I could muster at the deep and unhurried kiss.

He laughed at my satisfied state, evidently pleased with himself. Had his performance been less than stellar, I would have thought him completely conceited but I think he earned the right to smirk.

Exhaustion pressed on my eyelids, the alcohol that kept me dancing for hours now gone, but I wasn’t done. Far from it. I needed to wipe that smirk from his face and hear my name on his lips.

I wrapped a leg over his, digging my nails into his back, pulling him closer. He easily obliged, his weight settling over me like a familiar presence. Rhys’s lips traced my ear, never seeming to get enough of me. I was too tempted to let him pay homage to it all night, but need began to pound through me again, egged on by his rock-hard length pressing into me.

I used my legs entwined with his as leverage to flip him onto his back, earning a deep rumbling through his chest, not used to being on the other side. I began my pilgrimaged down, down, down, ready wrap my lips around him. Rhys, however, had other ideas.

“No, I need you, now,” he growled, an echo of my pleas earlier. A slow smile spread across my face, all too eager to oblige him. Together we peeled off his dark pants, the fabric revealing the muscled legs that held me against the door. His black underwear soon followed, his impressive erection making my mouth go dry with anticipation.

I froze, realizing that we were missing an important piece of the equation. The hesitation that appeared suddenly on my face was enough of a cue that Rhys knew what my concern was.

“Fear not, Feyre darling,” he leaned past me, his breath fanning over my neck. He opened a drawer, pulling out a condom. I released a silent breath of relief. I knew that fucking him would be the ride of a lifetime but without protection, there was no deal. Part of the reason was Tamlin gave me chlamydia a few months ago and had the gall to blame it on me. I should’ve broken up with him right then and there.

Rhys rolled the condom on and pulled me onto his lap, his back now braced against the backboard. I straddled him, the velvet-clad iron pressing against my folds. I slid up and down, coating his cock with my juices. Slowly, ever so slowly, I settled on his tip and eased down, down, down onto his cock. Just when I thought there was no end to it, I reached the base.

There I stayed, adjusting to him, flexing my walls around him. Rhys grasped the back of my neck, pulling me down to him, biting my lower lip. He swallowed my groan, echoed with his own. I pulled my hips up slightly and then pushed back down.

Another orgasm lingered on the edges of my senses, ready to be set off with the tiniest of movement. I was determined to last with him, wanting to come at the same time as him, wanting to feel him come inside of me.

I let out a slow breath, suppressing my senses as I came up again, this time a bit farther and went down a bit faster. Rhys’s fingers dug into my backside, hard enough that they’d probably match the bruises on my neck. We established a slow rhythm, getting used to each other’s bodies.

A wicked and wild voice wrapped around my mind, urging me to go harder, faster, to ride him with reckless abandon. The same voice must have broken into Rhys’s skull because his hands gripped me harder, pulling me down on him harder, faster.

I loosened my last grip on my senses and gave into the voice, to him. Our bodies slammed together, never breaking pace, a call and answer to each other. A second or an eternity could have passed, and we would have never known, too lost in our joined bodies.

I plunged my hands back into his hair, yanking his head back to expose his throat. Focus, I need something to focus on, and his neck was an easy target. I copied his bite from before, sucking on the skin until he groaned beneath me.

Rhys tensed under me, my only warning that his end approaching. I increased the pace even more, slipping a hand between us to rub my clit. Pressure built and built, pushing me closer and closer to the edge of that fourth orgasm. With a final slam, he buried himself in me and I flexed my inner walls around him. I capture his mouth, not wanting to miss a single moment of his demise.

Release barreled through us, our cries mingling. Stars wheeled and universes ended and atoms collided. I didn’t know if my vision blacked out from pleasure or I squeezed my eyelids tightly shut.

All we could do was reorder ourselves around the new world we had fucked our way into. I had expected a mediocre hookup or at least being blackout drunk, not a world-ending fuck with a guy I didn’t know.

Words tried and failed to form on my lips. What was I supposed to say? Thank you for fucking my brains out, you were better than my ex? Rhys, at least, seemed to be at a loss for words too, content to hold me as we both came down from our high.

Finally, once our breathing was back to semi-normal, he shifted me off his lap to lay beside him. My head rested on his shoulder, his arm wrapped securely around my body, pinning me to him.

His voice rumbled in his chest, deep and tired, “You’re staying here for the night. It’s late and you’ve been drinking.” Had he been any other guy, I would’ve already called the Uber. Sleeping over after a one-night stand was not an ideal situation for me, but to miss out on the chance to fuck him in the morning? Alis would have my hide for that.

“Fine by me,” I agreed, “But you’re lending me a shirt to sleep in.” His laugh sent shivers through my body. I almost wanted to go for another round but exhaustion, heavy and true, pulled at the edges of my consciousness.

Rhys eased us both up, sweat starting to dry on our skin and other fluids were ready to start problems if we both didn’t clean up. He led the way to the bathroom, turning the shower on to full blast. He produced towels and a large shirt for me, laying them close to the glass doors. I found a hair tie in my discarded jeans, tying up my locks into a messy bun.

Once steam had started to fog up the shower, he opened the door, half bowing and gesturing for me to enter. I laughed at his ridiculousness, even as my stomach flipped at the cute gesture. The water temperature was perfect and the space big enough for the two of us to fit comfortably.

Hot water streamed over my body, soothing aching muscles that I didn’t know existed. He joined me a second later, closing the door behind him. I moved over, sharing the spray with him. It felt so easy, so natural to just stand there with him and enjoy the drum of water on our bodies and soak up each other’s presence.

I ran my fingers up and down his arms, studying the paths the water took down them, imprinting the pattern in my mind for a later painting. The Biceps of a Hot Fuck was what I would call it. I looked up to see his quietly studying me as I studied him, a content smile on his lips. My fingers traced up his arms and to his shoulders, bringing him down to meet me. The kiss was slow and sweet, our appetites for the hard and fast sated for now.

Soon, too soon, we were clean and ready for bed. The hot water had dragged my mind down even more. The towels were soft against my ravaged skin and his shirt came down just below my thighs. We meandered back into his bedroom, slipping beneath the cool sheets that we had been sheltered from us by the comforter.

Rhys tucked me against his chest, one of his arms eased under the pillows to cushion our heads. His lips pressed against my exposed neck, fingers sliding through my hair, finding the hair tie buried within. A tug released my hair, letting it tumble over my shoulder.

“That’s better,” he murmured, setting the tie on the nightstand and flicked the lamp off.

He wrapped his arm around my waist, a solid band of muscle pinning my back to his chest.

“Dream of me, Feyre darling,” he whispered in my ear, the now dark room adding a final layer of intimacy.

“Only if you do the same,” I whispered back, consciousness finally sliding from me. His midnight laugh was the final sound my mind processed before sleep claimed me, warm and dark and safe.

#acotar #smut #feyre #rhysand #feyre x rhysand #sarah j maas

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moonlightstars16 · 5 years ago

Text

Psssst....Hey y’all......Bonus Chapter ;)

YEP AND ITS ALL THANKS TOO @thepurecinnamonroll and her amazing fan art of my story! (🚨PLEASE DO NOT STEAL HER FAN ART OR REPOST WITHOUT HER PERMISSION🚨)

So enjoy this weeks bonus chapter!!! :)

Chapter 6 ~ Preparations

The next few days for Connie were just studying gem royal history and the strict rules to follow. In her off time, the library became her sanctuary of sorts. There she could read and get lost in her daydreams. From time to time she helped her newly found gem friends with their work around the castle. It was slightly surprising to find a kitchen full of, as normal as one could expect, human food and nourishment necessary for survival.

Lapis explained that part of it was making sure the humans in the zoo wouldn't starve to death. Mainly, however, it was used for Steven's purposes. Though part gem, he needed his nutrients for his human half sometimes. Even some of the gems shape-shifted their forms similar to humans to experience the pleasure of digesting food...and other things. Some actually found enjoyment in it, making it a hobby of sorts from time to time. It was quite bizarre for her to process.

Not that she truly cared where he was or what he was doing (other than the fact of the deal to not harm anyone, so long as she kept her end of the deal). Mostly work consisting of plans for earth's demise and keeping to himself(Pearl informed her upon asking since she technically hasn't seen him since before her studies began). Her heart sank every time she thought about what she agreed too. Her future to live in this horrid place and be his bride.... Though unfathomable to grasp, it wasn't like she could go back on the deal. It was her life or all of humanities on the line. No matter what she thought, she would end up losing. At least humanity will have diplomatic immunity from being destroyed. How could she turn her back on them? It wasn't like her life was worth saving aynways....

One day before the first meeting with the Diamonds to talk about earth. Connie decided to ease her worries by relaxing in the library during her break. However with the situation at hand it was hard for her to concentrate on anything else. A loud clashing sound soon interrupted her thoughts. Looking up she walked towards an open window to where the sound resonated from down below. A purple gem, though a bit shorter than the others and Pearl dueling with swords is what she had only begun to witness. Peaking her interest she sat on the windowsill to watch. The idea of them sword fighting, even though they have magic, puzzled her. And though she was on the second level, she could hear the conversing during their battle.

"Come on Pearl don't hold back! I am a gem solder for Mr. I-am-no-Diamond himself, I can handle you!" The purple gem with silver hair tied up in a ponytail shouted. Just barely dodging her attack, though she missed an opportunity to take down Pearl when the opportunity was wide open. Making Connie wonder if Pearl left herself open to attack on purpose.

"Amethyst, your footwork is still sloppy and you have no coordination! Being random can't be you're only plan of attack, sooner of later you'll need a battle strategy." Pearl moved with such precision and elegance, it was mesmerizing to watch. In just a few quick motions and effortless dodges, she pinned down Amethyst with her sword pointing towards her throat. They stood in silence until Amethyst pushed her away and stood up. Walking away in anger and grumbling under her breathe. The intense staring from before said a lot between them.

However Connie couldn't pull away from the scene replaying in her mind. Looking down at her own hands she thought about her current situation. Having a few good fighting skills could be useful, certainly she couldn't hope to have someone there to hide behind. Even back on earth she felt uncomfortable going outside to take out the trash at night. Though pepper spray in hand is nice and knowing she could run for long distances was good, but now it wasn't enough. Especially in a place where she was beyond out of her element.

That evening, while she prepping for tomorrow's important meeting, Pearl knocked and entered the room. Slightly pleased to see her studying and memorizing all the information given. Shaking her head, Pearl cleared her throat and maintained her composure.

"Steven, has requested your presence in the dining hall for supper this evening." It was quite shocking to say the least, and a tad nerve wracking since the last time she saw him was when he took care of her headache. It was odd. One minute he was a tyrant, the next caring and then back to being cruel. Just that alone wasn't making sense and made her head spin just thinking about it.

"Why me? Why now?" She asked standing up from the vanity chair and mirror. Pearl only shrugged slightly whilst shaking her head.

"It's difficult to understand him and for now, better not to question so." Her statement made less sense about the whole situation. Still she had a point. Connie gulped remembering the deal with him. If she were to step out of line then more lives would be taken, their blood on her hands as well as his. Without another word she followed Pearl to the dining hall. Her light green dress' skirt swaying slightly with every step she took. Stepping through the doors, she instantly felt the intensity in the air. There he was with his back facing them. He was lost in deep thought until he sensed there presence. Lifting his head up slightly he felt the warmth of her presence as it surrounded the entire room.

"As requested, Steven." Pearl spoke with her hands behind her, back straight. It reminded Connie of the way solders on earth would stand when called to at the word 'attention'. Her thoughts soon returned to the man standing before her as white butterflies swirled around her mind.

"Good, now please leave us alone." The words hit Connie like a fist punching her gut. What was about to come made her uneasy. Both herself and Pearl looked at one another, Connie's eyes pleading for her not to leave, or at least not be very far. While Pearl's gaze was calm as if to say she was alright. Leaving the room with a gentle sound of the huge double doors shutting close. Connie stayed in place not knowing what to do.

"M-My Diamond" her voice squeaked(which she hated) whilst saluting and bowing slightly. A deep chuckle soon turned into a roaring laugh. the sound surprised her enough to jump a tad a the outburst. Steven breathed in deeply to stop himself as he placed a hand over his chest.

"The Diamonds are not around. You may address me as Steven, in fact I insist upon it." Slowly but surely Steven turned his attention towards her. His gaze a tad less intimidating than before. Stepping closer till he was two feet away. Extending his leather black gloved hand. "Come" Hesitantly she raised her's, trying hard to hide her trembling and failing at the same time. Her gaze held into his outstretched hand until the soft and gentle tone of his next word surprised and compelled her. "Please" instinctively their eyes' matched one another's, only this time his was less intimidating and more inviting; Her's still confusing as ever.

Finally she accepted, feeling his grip wrap around hers as he lead them both towards the table. Decorated in candelabras, and a vast array of fancy food. The scent intoxicating as she felt her hunger grow. He lead her towards the chair in a corner position right next to the head seat, which she assumed was his. Once they both sat down, Steven gestured for her to dine on the food set before her. After a long moment she began eating, it was her first official meal since arriving on the planet. Not feeling really hungry other than a few scraps she found from the kitchen. With her predicament, no one could really blame her for not wanting to eat.

Steven watched her as they ate in silence, her hair had fallen to the side of her face that sort of hid her from him. It was surprising, knowing himself. He basked in her natural beauty for a moment. Causing him to slow down and almost stop eating himself. But he was part Diamond, long periods without food was normal for him. However she needed to eat, and he needed to make sure she had the strength to deal with the Diamonds. On instinct he reached out brushed away her hair tucked behind her ear gently. Feeling her jump at his sudden touch.

"Are you afraid of me?" He asked watching her look upon him since they sat down.

"I'd be a fool not to be." Her reply was honest without having to say the actual word yes. "If I may" Connie began "Why don't you use other titles?" She waited till he gave a slight nod for her to continue. The look on his face puzzling as his right brow slightly raised up. "You've made it clear you don't like being called-... well you know." Carefully avoiding the phrase as best she could. "But why not any other formal titles?"

"I would rather have others address me without hiding behind formalities. Especially if one chooses to defy me, I want to hear them say my name." It was almost like he didn't want to be mistaken for anyone else other than himself. "I'm sure you have more questions... I suggest you choose your next one a bit wisely." Connie gulped and nodded her head. Her next said question was one that she had since Pearl informed her of this situation right before. Wanting to know why he needed to see her. Putting her fork down on her plate and her hands folded together on her lap. Focusing all her attention on him.

"There must be a reason you wanted me here."

"You must regain your strength. I cannot allow you to falter from lack of nourishment in front of the Diamonds tomorrow evening. Besides the complete humiliation, you won't be able to hold up your end of the deal." Steven spoke whilst grabbing a glass full of red wine, taking a sip.

"And why do you care?" Her voice low and full of annoyance. "I would suffer the most, yes, but I don't see how this affects you."

"There is not enjoyment if all I can do is easily win, I prefer a challenge after all. Besides you are to be a apart of my royal court. Whatever happens to you doesn't reflect well on me." He paused for a moment smirking "Not that it matters to me personally." He chuckled slightly as she gazed downwards yet again. It was simple, she was a pawn in his sick, twisted games and nothing more. It pained her heart deeply though she couldn't understand why. "Don't fret my dear, I am only wanting to make sure you're alright."

Once more taking her hand in his, bringing it to his lips as he placed a gentle kiss, careful in not wanting his mask to touch her. Looking back towards him, his eyes watched hers the entire time. Setting his hand down while not letting go of hers, caressing the back of her hand with his thumb. The sensation oddly calmed her, yet making her inhale inwardly.

His eyes now held a depth she never saw before; it was calm, inviting, and intense in a way that she didn't shake with fear. Steven gazed into her eyes, almost getting lost in them himself. 'Snap out of it!' his inner voice shouted before he blinked and soon let go, clearing his throat slightly before instantly regaining his composure.

"Tomorrow you will accompany myself and Pearl to meet with the Diamonds to discuss matters about earth. Are you fully prepared?" Connie nodded slowly still coming out of the brief moment that had just occurred.

"Yes, Steven, I am prepared." The next day was going to be intense for her, the cruelest thing he could've done was not say anything more than what he already warned her about. She would soon see the depth of how truly horrid they were.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The following day, Lapis spent the hours preceding the upcoming Diamond meeting getting Connie to look presentable. A long soak in the bath making sure her skin was clean, light amount of makeup, hair done in braid adorned with jewels and a few curled locks that framed her face. And an outfit that the material it was made from was almost uncomfortable to move in. The corset underneath was no help.

The color a deep blood red dress, off the shoulders with long sleeves coming to a point against the back of her hand. The outer regal layer of the sleeves almost touched the ground. The neckline a cross between a low swoop and a sweetheart design. Both front and back. The belt had a Diamond design, and golden, all over it as it wrapped around her lower waist; while it tied to one spot and letting it drop all down her skirt towards the floor. The skirt itself gave her maneuver to walk around effortlessly but the length(hemline on the neckline and bottom skirt were black) was almost impossible to ignore. Her shoes resembled ballet flats as the color scheme matched her dress.

Though attending as nothing more than a servant, she was still supposed to look presentable. She was about to meet the Diamonds in person. Lapis could sense her nerves as she placed a black laced choker with A red pendant in the middle and three red diamond shaped jewels dangling in the front.

"You look beautiful, Connie." Lapis stated with a smile looking at their reflections in the mirror. Connie weakly smiled back weakly, trying to ignore the butterflies in her stomach. Though she had every rule and etiquette mesmerized by heart backwards and forwards, it was hard to stop from her heart beating wildly.

"Lapis is right!" a voice which belonged to a certain Peridot exclaimed as she and Bismuth entered the room. A box wrapped in a bow in hand. Connie smile widened as they handed it to her.

"We wanted to give this to you before you headed out." Bismuth said with a proud gleam in her eyes. Connie adjusting her grip began to unwrap the bow.

"Oh you don't need to do that. It's just a box lid made too look like it's been carefully wrapped." Peridot said before getting elbowed in the gut by a glaring rainbow haired gem. "Ow-Hey! She would've found out anyway!" Connie began to laugh and the rest of them followed in suit. Opening the box she gasped and was surprised to see an almost mystical like journal, quill pen and ink. It wasn't advanced compared to gem tech. But for Connie it was perfect.

"We all thought it would be nice for you to have something more...traditional. At least for when you have free time." Bismuth explained as Peridot went into telling her how they made it and where the quill feather came from, and not to get her even started on how long the ink took to make. Which earned another elbow in the gut. It brought tears to her eye briefly before blinking them away.

"Thank you, I am truly lucky to have friends like you. I hope one day I can return you're kindness."

"We'll just say you owe us one." And that statement earning a third punch in the gut.

Pearl came to fetch her soon after. Herself dressed a tad more formal than usual with her cape flaring in a more Diamond shape. Bringing Connie to the launch pad where they we're greeted by Steven, dressed in a black suit with a red shirt underneath, his blood stained black cloak with a gold chain attached this time and more leather like black gloves. A dark pinkish red cravat accentuated his jacket and his silver mask a bit more polished than normal.

Upon seeing Connie, his eyes widened. The dress she was wearing revealed how beautiful she truly was. As she entered the room, nobody could tell she was a few days ago just carrying herself like an earthling. Revealing the true young woman, kept hidden from even himself, she now presented herself like a gem. Perfect and radiant. In his eyes rivaling even the elegance of the Diamonds themselves. Closing his eyes briefly, maintaining himself yet again.

"There is no turning back, from now on you are a member of my court. Temporary or not, do you understand my dear?" Connie nodded mentally preparing herself for what was ahead.

"Yes" Soon they were on the warp pad ready to transport to the grand Diamond palace. Steven held out his arm towards a slightly confused Connie.

"Unless you want to arrive at the grand entrance landing flat on your face, I would suggest you hold on tight." She complied without hesitation. Once he felt her tight grip, he looked at Pearl with a nod as they were ready. In a flash of light and the feeling of being elevated off the ground they were off and within moments, stood before a grand Palace. Had it not been for his insistence, she would be laying on the ground in pain. Connie breathed in sharply for a moment, gasping at it's exquisite beauty that captured her eyes. Then remembering where she was brushed herself off and tried to maintain a regal state.

“I suggest you be a bit more careful next time." He spoke coldly.

As they began walking, Connie noticed Steven still had her arm tightly around his, with no intention of letting her go anytime soon.

#shatteredbloodsufau #steven universe #connverse #steven universe future #connie mahaswaren #garnet #amethyst #pearl #greg universe #spinel #the diamonds #pink diamond #pink steven #evil steven #au #fanfic

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