#had a housekeeper collapse

[dxstopiaa]

Sinful Syllables

Synopsis: Name-spelling never exposed your lover’s dirty secrets like this before. [18+ drabbles]

Characters: Thoma, Ayato, Childe and Dottore x Fem! Reader! <3

Warnings: Pure NSFW content, interact at your own risk. [Content: Oral giving and receiving, Impact Play, Exhibitionism, Humiliation.] [ exposed myself with dottore’s part (>////<) ? ]

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Thoma

Toys

“Ah—Dear! Please, Stop!” His muffled whines were whispered into your ear. Poor Thoma, he tried so hard to resist whatever scandalous plans you had, just for you, yet you’re pushing him to his limit. That vibrating cock ring you had begged him to try— the housekeeper was doing his best to not cum in his boxers, it would be more to add to his already busy schedule. You chuckled lightly as he almost collapsed onto you, opting to guide him to the bedroom to give him his long awaited reward.

Humiliation

He knew you still had some decency not to take the teasing too far in-front of the Kamisato clan, but that doesn’t mean you never done so. You think it’s adorable when he stifles a moan beside you when sitting together, rubbing your hand over his clothed erection. The worst part is that the other maids gave him a questionable look. Embarrassment glowed on his cheeks, covering his face from shame. He couldn’t believe how he had let you reduce him to such a state, maybe it’s that gorgeous grin on your lips—the ones he wanted to kiss so badly.

Oral

He’s inexperienced with giving oral— it’s messy and experimental but it never fails to have you cumming over his tongue from every sloppy kiss to your clit. You’re latching onto his golden hair, tugging on it with every wave of euphoria which hit you, pulling his face flush in-between your thighs. He’s treated you so well, this gesture should be reciprocated too, no? You’d trail your lips over his tip, sucking and licking the sensitive slit of his. Thoma whines and groans whilst you begin to deepthroat his cock, relishing in the feeling of your warm mouth.

Moaning

Thoma makes the prettiest noises— drag your tongue over his nipples and he’ll be whining and whimpering, run sloppy kisses over the tip of his dick and you’ll have a moaning mess of a man beneath you. Each touch of yours flowed pleasurably through his body like water and electricity, he’s always very sensitive. Don’t forget the pleads and broken begs he stutters out when you edge him for the first time, increasing in volume and desperation as minutes passed. “Ah..! Continue, i beg of you!”

Authority

While he is a switch, he’s more on the submissive side. Why you ask? He’s always so busy with his duties he longs for the scenario where he can just let go of himself for once. Your boyfriend is extremely tired once he comes back to you after a day’s work, so much so that he allows you to do whatever you want to him. Ride him? Sure, Thoma adores the way your body slides up and down his cock, evidently with his breathy moans. Just want to cuddle and cockwarm him? That’s completely fine too, he’ll fall asleep with you closer than ever. Some occasions he’ll be dominant with you if you’ve been teasing him for so long, but he always eventually ends up following your every command.

Ayato

Authority

Most definitely dominant, the commissioner prefers to be in control as he knows exactly how to make the both of you feel good. No doubt about it, he finds it endearing how you want to try and top him, but one way or another you’ll be beneath him, punished for trying to tease too much. Whether you want Ayato to be soft or rough, he’ll cater to your desires, just leave it all to him. He will send tides of delight wherever you wish so, on your delicate pussy or your pretty breasts.

Yearning

He tries ever so hard to concentrate on the documents on the table in-front of him, but the longer he stares, the more that unholy image of your unclothed body on the very same desk reappears. His dick throbbed against the tight constraints of his suit trousers, making it even more of a challenge to focus. The friction of his hand trailing up his cock reminded him of your ass grinding against his thigh whilst he’s working— it almost compelled him to invite you to his office himself. Only a few more minutes and he’ll have his way with you.

Addiction

He’s addicted to your soft pants whenever he’s pumping in and out of you—such beautiful noises from his beloved, but ever sinful. It’s futile really, you’re begging to the Celestia above that he’ll let you have your release, you should be praying to him instead. No issue though, Ayato can just fuck you harder and rougher until you realise your mistake and begin to sing melodic pleads to your fiancé instead. He deserves your attention, he supposes.

Threesome

“Relax, princess.” He coos, sending your discomfort upon feeling a second dick resting against your ass. Ayato had proposed the concept of his hydro silhouette mere minutes ago, but the idea hadn’t processed through yet from how hard he was fucking you, reducing your mind to a numb, stimulated mess. The unusual yet not unpleasant sensation of the sly mimic sliding his cock between your soft thighs before thrusting into pace beside your fiancé left you desperate for more and more. A mix of hydro and cum leaked down your legs and poured out from your cunt when they both finished inside you, the silhouette disappeared after Ayato dismissed it, he’d rather put his strength into caring for your exhausted body.

Orgasm

He knows you’re close, he can feel your wet pussy clenching him so tightly. Your moans grew in volume, as did your back arch into Ayato’s bare chest. Does he let you finish, or should be edge you till he’s the one cunning first? Both offers are so, so tempting that the Yashiro commissioner can’t make his mind up. If he’s feeling generous enough that day, he would ask you which you’d prefer. If he’s in a teasing mood, he’ll do the exact opposite of what you ask him, adoring those groans of frustration from your pouty lips. Perhaps you should ask nicely.

Childe

Cum

If there was one place Tartaglia loved to cum, it would be inside of you. Your pussy clenching around his cock in a desirous objective to keep his hot load within you. It was difficult for your boyfriend not to get hard again from how eager you were to please him. His cum is definitely thick and there’s a substantial amount of it—yet it doesn’t take long at all for him to spill all of it wherever he wants. Whether it’s all over his hands whilst showering, thinking of your ass bouncing against his hips or over your breasts, he can’t go a day or two without relieving himself.

Hypersexual

Sex was on his mind constantly, his mind often wanders to your body whilst he’s in important meetings or simply when you’re sleeping beside him. It pains him to have to conceal his hardness; it was something the immature man was yet to learn. Of course, he’d always ask you if you’re comfortable with his high-maintenance libido, just for you he’d be willing to learn self control. Don’t leave him waiting for too long though, or the next time he’ll be pumping into you for hours.

Impregnation

Everyone knows how fond Childe is of familial bonds— he adores the day he’ll be able to greet his children when he arrives from work, dedicating as much time as he can to being a good father. So expect to be held into a mating press with his dick, for once, slowly and carefully moving along your walls, ensuring he hits your cervix so he can fill it with as much of his seed as possible. He lusts over your soft moans, it tells the young harbinger exactly how contented you feel and how deep he’s reaching. Bonus for your husband if you beg him for his cum, he’ll have you in all possible positions to ensure all his sperm can reach your womb.

Lingerie

It’s not a new discovery that Tartaglia has the overflowing income he can spend without any worry. Why not buy you something to pamper yourself with whilst he’s here? Red’s his favourite colour to see, it looks so gorgeous on you. Lace, silk and frills are no exception to these garments, they’ll always be personalised to match you to so that he gets hard just thinking about it. He absolutely adores you teasing him by sitting on his lap or bending over in that skimpy short robe to reveal your delicate panties. So much so that he’ll just move them to the side when he fucks you.

Dacryphillia

Glossy, tear-ridden eyes greet his lusty ones as you try your best to keep it hidden. Cute, but it doesn’t work. Tartaglia will keep thrusting deeper and deeper until the droplets of salty water descend your flushed cheeks. Your pants and cries of it all being too much go unheard—no, ignored even, your boyfriend is too busy overstimulating you. “Awe, it’s alright, princess, at least you know how good i make you feel…mhm?”

Energy

A well-fought harbinger, determined in battle, you can’t expect him to be any less energetic in bed, can’t you? Childe can run on pure lust alone, he disregards any tiredness with the motive of chasing out every last orgasm you have for him. Most nights, expect around three, lengthy rounds—if you’ve managed to work him up or fill him with jealousy, oh no. Be prepared to be bred and fucked until you’re rendered half-unconscious from the pleasure. “Exhausted already, love? Ah, that won’t do, you’ve got more stamina than that, i know you do.”

Dottore

Diversiform

It was all just too much — your pretty mouth stretched open to accommodate for your husband’s cock whilst your delicate hands smoothed over his clones’ either side of you, their grunts drowning out your own cries of ecstasy. Not to mention the lookalike who was pounding deep inside of you, fucking you roughly with each chasmic thrust. Dottore cackled, chanting a compound of praise and coos. He should suggest his lewd ideas more often, he suggests. “Hah, love…just like that, my wife.”

Oral

Your lips were coated in his cum and saliva— Dottore would pull you up by your collar to taste himself from your sore lips, moaning loudly when you’d try to grind against him whilst you temporarily sat on his lap. It was an endless cycle of trying to fit his length into your warm mouth, tears rolling down your cheeks whilst gagging as he had thrusted too far down your throat. Your knees would be scarlet and bruised afterwards— but he knew you liked it rough anyways.

Toys

As, perhaps, the most skilled ‘engineer’ within Teyvat, the proposal of toys had been brought up countless times. Though of course, not without some modifications. Dottore often sat a few feet away, stroking his calloused hand over his dick whilst you pleasured yourself with his inventions. A phallic-shaped piece ravaging your walls, the automatic movement proving too rapid for your limits. Tears collected in the corner of your eyes, hiccuping whilst begging your beloved to fill you up instead. He merely huffed, accelerating the speed once more.

Tentacles

It wasn’t uncustomary for the harbinger to introduce all sorts of new fantasies, but upon witnessing you indulging in such filthy… aquatic novels, he had decided to treat you a little. Hence why you were strewn across his bed, tendrils from who knows where filling you up, the slimy appendages slithering over your clit and pumping against your already full cervix whilst you writhed and moaned, clasping onto Dottore’s hand as he relished in the obscene sounds. You were abandoned in the realm of overstimulation, barely able to slur some muffled pleads from your lips whilst the array of suction cups continued to suck on your sensitive nipples.

Objection

Tears threatened to spill from your glossy eyes when your beloved pulled out right before you reached your climax. He loved watching you force yourself back against his cock, your soft thighs hitting his own in desperation. So cute, maybe he should just let you have your release. On second thought, he recalls your bratty behaviour earlier and the doctor decides your punishment hasn’t finished just yet.

Restraints

Your husband ponders that you look beautiful like this— thick leather straps pulling and coercing your plush thighs open, swerving around your breasts and ass, squeezing them ever so slightly. The mere appearance of the constraints pulling you into submission has him painfully hard whilst he imagines everything he could do to you right now.

Embarrassment

“Look at you, already making a mess of yourself…” The doctor frowned, fucking the disobedience from your body mercilessly whilst he ignored your mewls of humiliation. He just loved seeing your strained expression, retaining as much dignity as you could when you’re literally being stared at by a trio of flustered, lusty fatui agents. The harbinger continued to cackle spontaneously at you, who trying ever so hard not to disappoint her dear husband. Dottore continued to pinch and suck your sensitive nipples whilst he rammed into you over and over again, so much so that you no longer cared who was observing.

#genshin impact #we’re zhongli and xiao lovers here #genshin #genshin x reader #thoma #ayato #childe #thoma x reader #ayato x reader #childe x reader #genshin smut #thoma smut #ayato smut #childe smut #thoma scenarios #ayato scenarios #childe scenarios #genshin thoma #genshin ayato #genshin childe #genshin x you #genshin x fem!reader #dottore #dottore x reader #dottore smut

[chrollohearttags]

𝕽𝖊𝖛𝖊𝖗𝖇 • 𝕰. 𝕵𝖆𝖊𝖌𝖊𝖗: chapter five

synopsis: after (Y/N) decides to take a job for the talent agency, starring in a music video, she finds herself motivated to conquer more goals. Especially following the steamy phone call with EJ. Meanwhile, the rest of her team and Eren are left with mixed feelings for their own personal reasons. Forced into rest by his manager, the rapper is left with much to contemplate and how he wants to proceed with this growing bond. Deciding he was tired of seeing his friend depressed, Armin makes a surprise visit to get his spirits up but what exactly does he have in mind and will Eren even want to continue his ties with (y/n) once he gets in his ear?

prev chapter >>> next chapter

cw: sexual content, language warning, weed use, mentions of nudity, strip club and alcohol mentions, slight mentions of sadness

wc: 6.5K

📝: it took me forever and fifteen days but damnit, I was going to get this out to y’all! I’m so sorry it took so long but I promise next chapter will make up for it! 🫶🏾

“You have a beautiful woman, practically throwing the pussy at you and you’re sitting here, trying to rationalize it? Dude, just go be with her. Before somebody else does.”

ocean drive, Miami Beach, Florida: Jaeger Residence

a beautiful late afternoon like any other in the ever so sunny city was starting off great..the infamous Jaeger residence was quiet as ever. Birds chirping, wind blowing and palm trees swaying over the three story mansion of the famed rapper. His day? Began just like any other..waking up, brushing his teeth, heading for his morning workout and then inside again for a shower. He grabbed some breakfast and then headed out back to the pool to enjoy his first blunt. Peaceful and uneventful, like he preferred..however, there was one issue: “God, I can’t take this!” Shouting from his elongated lawn chair, overlooking the crystalline pool waters as he sunbathed. “This is so fucking boring! How am I supposed to do this shit for two weeks?”

frustrated and obviously in a huff, Eren squirmed around in his seat, kicking his feet like a petulant child. What reason did he have to be behaving this way? Well, it was simple: he was put on leave by his demon of a manager and told simply that if he even so much as stepped foot inside of a studio, she’d break his legs. And oddly enough, he believed her so now, he was forced to enjoy fourteen days, at minimum of rest and relaxation. Vacations weren’t really his thing so trying to find something to occupy his time besides mixing boards and synthesizers was going to be hell. But there was a good reason for her orders..shortly after touching back down in Miami, he ended up collapsing in his kitchen, where only by a miracle his housekeeper found him!

and it was a no brainer as to what the diagnosis was: exhaustion. This man had been running himself ragged for months on end without a stop in sight. Straight from the studio, to the stage and doing it all over again. Not to mention the little…exchange between himself and (y/n) had definitely taken its toll. Pent up stress and arousal once released can have strange effects on the body. And considering that it had been quite a while since he’d..relieved some of that tension, it was all but inevitable for it to catch up with him. His team canceled all of his appearances, put him on bedrest and made him promise that he wouldn’t do any producing work or recording. So here he was, sitting on his ass, twiddling his thumbs without a clue of what to do with his free time. Truthfully, there just wasn’t anything he wanted to do besides make music.

he did enjoy tinkering around with cars a bit; preferably an affinity for older muscle models. Hence the 1965 SS Chevelle and 1960 Dodge Challenger parked in his garage. One of which he used in a music video and begged to keep it. After some research and help from a friend, they restored the motor and the interior. But other than that and buying jewelry, he didn’t have many hobbies. There was no one he could call to hang out with at this hour because they all had their own respective lives to live. Connie, who he didn’t even want to speak to after that video released and he had to watch his crush feel him up, was busy with album promotion and appearances, Mikasa was more than likely busy with her other clients who didn’t make her job hard and even if she did stop by, she’d bring that pest of a man and truthfully, he’d end up drowning him in this pool. Then there was the possibility of inviting some women over to have a good time but he hated the idea of having some random girl running around his house just get some ass.

his DM’s were practically loaded with girls wanting a piece of him but they all went unanswered. Because the one he wanted..wasn’t here. It had been a little over a week since that FaceTime between (y/n) and himself and he couldn’t stop thinking about it. He lost track of how many times he came and watching you only fueled his desire more! Hearing the way you moaned his name and wrapped around your own fingers…he was mesmerized. So much so, nothing could even occupy his mind for two days. It only became worse once he got home and you guys began sexting on and off. He’d send you a link to one of your new pictures that you posted along with a tasteful yet freaky comment. And you of course wouldn’t make matters any better..because the second he did, you’d send him the uncensored version and tell him to come get it. It made it even worse when he commented on the app and now a bunch of bitches who probably had a bedtime were flooding your mentions.

“You’re gonna get me in trouble, EJ. They don’t like me..”

“Fuck them, I like you..that’s all that matters.”

It was a very dangerous yet fun game. Something about the tension and subtly behind this was making you desire one another, more than anyone you ever had.

it probably wouldn’t do the least bit of good to hit you up right now because he could tell from your story that you were in the middle of more photo shoots and brand work. Unboxing a PR package here and trying on an outfit there..but where you really thrived was the pole. He could watch you twirl for hours and not in any sexual way. You were just that talented! He respected your grind entirely too much to interrupt you right now for his own personal needs so he’d have to find another way to channel that energy.

however, he wouldn’t quite get that chance..as he got up to go back inside and possibly make himself some food, he’d find himself met with quite the intrusion! Gliding across the tile floors in his Nike slides, gym shorts dangling at his waist, bare chest out and his hair thrown up in a scraggly ponytail, he beelined for the kitchen. Swinging open the door to his stainless steel fridge, Eren scanned his eyes over the shelves, searching for a bottle of water to quench his thirst. “Seriously? I thought I had some left. Where is it?” Suddenly, he’d hear a voice from behind the door and without even thinking..he’d answer back. “Check the freezer. Should be some in there.” “Aye, thanks man.” In that moment, the artist would freeze in his tracks, realizing no one else should’ve been home except him! So who the hell had he just answered?….

slowly closing the door, he’d lean over his own shoulder and peer around until he was greeted with another face…

“Armin, bro! What the fuck are you doing in my house?!”

the smiling face of the mischievous blonde met Eren’s own angry expression and needless to say, he wasn’t happy about his best friend sneaking inside without saying anything. “To talk to you about our lord and savior Christ..the hell do you think I’m doing here, dude? Getting you out of this house.” But of course, the ever so stoic Eren was not interested in the slightest and instead, dismissed his friend with a wave..before traipsing back outside.

“I’ll pass. Go home.”

however, if it’s anything he knew about the man he considered a brother, it was that he didn’t give up so easily. He’d persist and annoy him until he caved.

“Seriously? Are you really going to spend two weeks in this house, doing nothing?” “No, I’m going to work. I’m not scared of Mika or her empty ass threats. I have money to make.” But deep down, they both knew she’d make good on her promise so it wasn’t best to try her. Besides, he really needed this break.

“Dude, you could’ve gotten hurt. It won’t kill you to rest. Enjoy the fruits of your labor, as they say.”

and he may have been right..except the right message, wrong horse! As the two made it outside and sat down, Eren would glance over at his friend and give him the meanest side eye. Knowing damn well he’d find any excuse to slack off. “And when’s the last time you’ve done any ‘labor’?” But of course, it was quickly dismissed. “Not the point! Point is, you’re going to waste your whole life away. Get out and have some fun every once in a while. Is there really nothing you want to do?”

he had to be honest..Armin’s commitment to making sure he took some time to himself was admirable. Eren knew his friends cared and he was happy they did but he couldn’t admit that the one thing he wanted most was to create. Make magic behind the keys because that’s where he was happiest. And where he’d get his mind off of (y/n). Not too long ago, the two of you were texting and he wanted so badly to tell you to come see him but that was out of the question. Not only that, he didn’t want to look like a simp. Upset over a woman that he had only just met..

placing his hands behind his head, Eren peered up to the passing clouds and sighed. “I’m good. I’ll just sit out here and enjoy the weather. Besides, what I want isn’t anything I can have right now.” Spoken like a retired old man and Armin couldn’t have any of it. He knew his friend despised the rockstar lifestyle but a little excitement was what he needed. Or rather..a woman to help alleviate that tension. It always worked for him! Snickering to himself, Armin just shook his head. He knew his best friend to speak in riddles but it didn’t take long to decipher his speech.

“So what happened between you and (y/n)?” Earning him a shocked glare because he kept his business very private, so much so, the person closest to him didn’t know..at least he shouldn’t have. But there was no point in hiding it. “Nothing happened. What about her?” Stoic and defensive as always and it’d do no good to keep pressing him about some bullshit. That’s when..against his better judgment, Eren would ask his friend a hypothetical question.

“Let me ask you something..”

“You asking me for advice..you must be sick.”

“Don’t get ahead of yourself. I just want a different perspective, that’s all..”

Peering out over the pool and the sparkling reflection, he’d take a deep breath before speaking again. “Say that you had somebody you were really feeling..like truly fucking with and you instantly click.. it’s obvious but you don’t want to ruin it by moving too fast. What should you do?” it seemed like an honest question, one that had obviously been on his mind heavily to be asking for help. However, Armin found it quite hilarious..so much so, he’d try to refrain from laughing about it. That was until he at least asked his next question. “How fast are we talking? Better yet, what did you do?” Eren always prided himself on having somewhat of a moral compass; at least more so than the man he was asking and his other friends. He had never thought to have sex on the first link, out of respect but when you so blatantly admitted that it was what you wanted…how else could he respond?

for a moment, he sat in silence, not saying a thing. Truthfully, he was pissed that you even had him feeling this way! Normally, he’d hook up with one of these internet groupies, or a fine ass fan who he invited on stage, get his nut and never call the poor girl again. However, that only applied to women he didn’t give a fuck about. Both sides were in agreement it was a hookup so no need to get attached. On the rare occasion that he’d cave to his urges, EJ could be equally as heartless as Armin. But he couldn’t find it in him to do it every night.

he wanted his person…as selfish as it was, knowing he wasn’t ready for a relationship right now. Which is why he didn’t want you to think he was trying to use you strictly for sex. Because you weren’t in the same category as those girls. However, he wasn’t some saint and he never worried about others..so why did he care so much about the way he treated you?

“We..had phone sex. And I didn’t hear from her for a couple days so I figured she might be mad at me. That’s why I asked if we were going too fast.”

at that moment, Armin could no longer conceal his laughter and ended up doubling over in a loud snort. He couldn’t believe that the man who didn’t give a fuck about anyone or if he hurt their feelings was self conscious about something so trivial.

“You gotta be fucking joking! Oh shit…that’s too funny.” howling as he continued cracking up at the little confession. Despite Eren not finding a damn thing about this amusing.

“The fuck is so funny? I just asked a simple question.”

“Yeah, a dumb one. Dude, you’re a grown ass man. There’s nothing wrong with that and unlike you, who ignores everyone on purpose..she’s probably busy.” Right there, Eren felt like kicking his ass out but he needed someone to be brutally honest with him and who better to do it than his best friend.

peering over to the side, he’d take a swig of his water and mumbled against the opening. “Fucking smartass..” but he knew, as painful as it is to admit.. Armin was always right.

“You know, Niesha was right about you two. Y’all are too much alike.” Still cackling to himself over his friend’s behavior.

“And just what does she mean by that? And who the hell is Niesha?” Now even more offended that he was being insulted by someone he hadn’t even met. But once he said it, he’d remember the name immediately. Reclining in his chair, Armin proudly folded his arms behind his head and smirked.

“Her best friend and while you two have been acting like prepubescent virgins, thinking you’re going to hell for jerking your dick through a screen..we fucked in the first three hours. Been hooking up ever since. I mean I probably beat like seven times already and we just met a few weeks ago. And her shit’s dangerous too…makes no sense.” Smacking his gum so smugly, Eren just wanted to reach over and strangle him. Was that really something to be proud of?!

“You’re a whore, that’s why. You don’t even know her like that.”

“Maybe. But I do know she’s my favorite eater and I’m not letting her go anytime soon. Might have to tell her I love her for a little drama or buy her a little something, she earned it.”

he couldn’t believe, one, that he was friends with such a horrible human being. Second, that he felt bad for what you guys had done and here they were..but there was a reason he was saying all of this.

“But my point is…you don’t have to prove anything to anybody. If you want to fuck each other, date, do whatever, then do it and stop being ashamed. It’s not too soon and it’s not the 1940’s, you don’t have to be madly in love and married. I can tell you really like her and shit, she’s obviously feeling you so what’s the wait for? You have a beautiful woman, practically throwing the pussy at you and you’re sitting here, trying to rationalize it? Dude, just go be with her. Before somebody else does.”

and that last line was his trigger. It was as if it had incited something in him. The thought of someone else with you? Oh, he’d probably lose it but that’s the risk he stood with not making his intentions clear. Maybe a good session was exactly what you two needed to get this tension out of your bodies. To know if there was truly a connection there or just lust..but again, he had allowed you to get away so for now, he wouldn’t know. All he could do was read over your texts and fantasize what it would be like. Right now though, Armin needed him to get his head out of the clouds and his own ass.

“I mean, when’s the last time you’ve even had an actual girlfriend? Besides the one the label made you get?”

that’s when he was reminded of the preppy little pop star he got with some years back as part of a PR campaign to get them both some notoriety. They were ‘dating’ for like a year before calling it quits. A girl by the name of Historia and it most certainly helped propel her career. EJ The Don was already collaborating with big time names and making waves so she was useless as far as he was concerned. Not to mention, she wasn’t even his type and the girl bored him beyond relief. Eventually, she did go on to date and marry some fashion model, giving everyone room to make the joke that she left him for a woman but he was happy she was out of his hair.

he’d start laughing at the thought of how awkward things were. “Man, fuck you. That was the worst year of my life. We were like roommates if anything.”

Armin definitely recalled and the fact that they only had sex once would’ve killed him! He didn’t know how he survived. “Then you better man up and go do what you have to.” Looking over, he’d roll his eyes and give him a side eye.

“I hate when you’re right, you know that? Like you really piss me the fuck off.”

“I know, but who else is going to give it to you straight? Speaking of, you need to get out of this damn house. You’ve got too much time on your hands and you’re sitting here overthinking shit. Be ready in a couple hours, I got an idea.”

he could tell by the look on his mischievous little face that something was amiss. He had something up his sleeve and Eren didn’t like the idea of it! But after that tidbit of advice, he owed him. “I don’t like the sound of that shit, but whatever…”

as the two walked back through Eren’s kitchen and living room to see Armin out, he was talking. “Just trying to get you to live a little, that’s all..” boasting and bragging about his supposed helpful methods. That was until they reached the front door. Twisting the knob, Eren allowed him to step before him to walk out and the second he did…

“I hear you, bruh. Do me a favor real quick, step back.”

he’d slam the door directly in his face and lock it!

“Damn, been waiting almost an hour to do that. Thought he’d never take his ass home.” For now, he’d proceed to enjoy his alone time and acquire another blunt before having to deal with that again. He was going to need it.

especially if he was going to try and get his mind off of you. Meanwhile, (y/n) was somewhere, experiencing a similar issue..just not in the way he’d expect!

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Houston, Texas: The Pole Factory Dance Studio

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“Well, we can just talk to her when she gets here. It’s all good.”

“Yeah, you say that. But shit..I don’t know.”

whispers and mumbling could be faintly heard from the foyer of the dance floor; separated from the front entrance and waiting area. This was Houston’s finest performance center for all things pole and (y/n), as well as the others had rented it out for practice. You guys had managed to get a gig for another artist who’d be coming on tour here and after being a part of the number one music video in the country, you were motivated, now more than ever, to get your names out there. You were getting brand deals left and right with your face plastered all over social media nowadays. But the first order of business was to make sure that everyone was on the same page.

lugging your gym bag over your shoulder as you walked into the small hallway, leading to the dance room, you’d suddenly hear all of the talking cease and your entire team standing still as statues. They all seemed as if they were keeping some sort of secret from you.

“Hey y’all..what’s going on?”

at first, there was no response..which was terribly unusual, considering how vivaciously and loudly you all greeted each other. You hadn’t been together since Rolling Loud and you figured they’d be happy to see you. Instead, they were all frozen in place. Quietly setting the bag to the floor, (y/n) slowly shut the door behind you all and glared at them.

Niesha, who was never caught without a smile had her arms folded across her chest, seemingly sad. Brianne was looking in an entirely opposite direction and Kellie, as well as Syrai were both quiet.

“Okay…somebody wanna tell me what’s wrong? Why y’all acting like this?” At that moment, a million scenarios rushed through your head. Did something happen at that party? Did someone do something to them? Or better yet…were they mad at you for leaving? Surely, your sisters would never be jealous of you! Never that..right?

but what was really pressing their minds was the furthest thing from…

“I’m sorry, (y/n). Shit, we all are..”

“Yeah, I know you prolly mad at us and we deserve it.”

and in fact, what they truly felt was guilt! But you needed a tad bit more explanation before accepting apologies you really didn’t need..

“Wait, wait. Why would I be mad at y’all? You haven’t—“

“Be for real, boo. We let you fly all the way out to LA with two niggas you ain’t know nothing about, all by yourself. We was being selfish and stupid. Anything could’ve happened to you and we just let you leave. That was so fucked up.”

for as long as you had known Niesha and been her best friend, sis had never backtracked or said sorry for anything. Her unapologetic attitude was what you loved! Even as kids, even if her ass was dead in the wrong, she stood ten toes on it! So this must have been really bothering them. But you’d assure them that they had no reason to be upset. Truthfully, had it not been for them staying behind, you wouldn’t have pushed yourself to take a risk like that and advance your work repertoire. They gave you the courage to do things alone..not to mention, have that call with EJ that literally had your mind spinning for two days straight.

in that moment, you found yourself dissociating and daydreaming about all of the nasty things you said to one another. About him telling you things that’d have you stalking him. You swore the second you saw that man, you were going to suck him drier than a capri sun! Now wasn’t the time for that though…especially after you had gotten word of him falling ill and you urged him to get some rest. If anything, they did you a favor!

“Aww…y’all ain’t gotta worry ‘bout me. I promise I was fine. They were both so sweet and helped me out. I wish y’all would have been in it but I wanted y’all to enjoy yourselves. I swear I ain’t mad. I could never be. Y’all know me better than that.”

just then, they’d all breathe a sigh of relief and you all would laugh about the misunderstanding. Niesha was the first to bumrush you with a hug and everybody else joined in. “Man, y’all had me worried! I thought you were mad at me.”

confessing as you all embraced one another. Things were just fine and you were happy that you all could just talk to one another like this. What you were most grateful for was your circle and how supportive they were. There was no bad blood, jealousy or animosity, just love and good vibes. They told you how proud they were..that they saw the video and said how good you looked. That’s when you’d show them the behind the scene pictures, tell them all about the process and they’d gush over their girl getting her big break. “Aww, (y/n). You gone do so many big things, bitch. And you know we right behind you.” Now, you could all breathe a sigh of relief that not only were things settled but that they had such faith in you. But now, it was time to get back to business and making moves as a unit. “Well I ain’t trying to do it without my girls. Like I said, we eating together.” motivating them as you always did when standing to your feet.

“…so, I think we should get back to it. And go get this money, what y’all think?” Suddenly, everyone exclaimed and broke into laughter as you all normally did. Every bit of tension had absolved from the air and it was time to get back to the task at hand. “Alright, let’s practice the set list again that we did yesterday. From the top.”

───✱*.｡:｡✱*.:｡✧*.｡✰───────✱*.｡:｡✱*.:｡✧*.｡✰────

but while (y/n) and the crew were hard at work, Eren and his gang were ready to play..everyone except him that was. As promised, Armin had arrived back on his doorstep, bringing three more friendly faces with him. None of which Eren wanted to see right now. Under the setting skies and faint moonlight, the gentlemen waited for the rapper to join them so that they could frequent a favorite spot of theirs; Tootsies Gentlemen Club. A staple in Miami and the most noted strip club in the city. Rappers would drop hundreds of thousands in a night, tossing racks on the talented dancers and they were no exception. Sometimes, the group would take a couple of the ladies home for a fun night. In which Eren always opted out of. However, they were not about to let him skip this adventure. He needed some excitement and sitting around, simping was not a part of the code. So they’d bring him out and remind him who he was. But he had to give them a hard time. Everyone was laced in their designer duds…looking sharp and being carted by the McLarens and Maseratis waiting out in the driveway. All they needed now was their missing friend. But he wasn’t coming out of his house this late to watch them act the damn fool!

especially when one of them was his practical nemesis. “I don’t know why we won’t just leave him. It’s obvious his boring ass doesn’t want to do anything anyways.” Jean Kirschtein, the world famous rockstar and frontman for Atelier Kiss. An alternative band that had sold millions all over the world. Although very stark in contrast to the type of music his friends made, he was still regarded as a favorite among the ladies down at the club…however, he wouldn’t be a free man for much longer so he wanted to enjoy this night out. Of course, upon hearing this, Eren only wanted to prolong the evening more.

not for any particular reason, just because he felt like it. Too bad none of them could beat his ass or outrun a bullet so they had no choice but to wait! “Jean, I’m surprised you’re even allowed out past ten. Mika let you off your leash? You must’ve been a good boy this week.” Mimicking that of a coo to an obedient dog and making his blood boil. This is why it took a special type of person to deal with him! And not many could do it. “I’m a grown ass man, I don’t need anyone’s permission to do anything.” “Alright, I’ll call her right now and tell her where we’re going and we’ll see how long before she swells your eye shut.” And that of course caused yet another argument between the pair.

hence why it was nearly midnight when they arrived at the spot..eight deep in a drove; security included where they needed no ID or introduction. Famous stars like them got white glove treatment wherever they went and a few of them took advantage of it. Flaunting their status to attract women..it made Eren’s ass itch, quite honestly! He was a firm believer in being yourself and just letting people gravitate towards you. All that embellishing your personality and being overly flashy was embarrassing! And a good way to get their asses robbed if not careful.

“This is why I hate going anywhere with these dumbasses. They act like they were dropped on their goddamn heads as kids.”

regardless, they made their way through the crowd to one of the main stages, with stacks of money and ready to spend it all. Immediately, the girls made their way over to the group, all but dismissing their other clients because they knew where the real bread was! Armin and Connie were the first to allow the ladies to take a seat on their laps and flirt with them. “Girls, girls..there’s plenty of me to go around. Don’t worry..” the resident playboy exclaimed, rubbing up on them and they were happy to let him do so because every woman in this city knew the name Armin Artlert. And for some odd reason, wanted a piece. Two thick women with long hair and tatted, caramel complexions that glowed underneath the lights began touching up on him and Connie. “Armie, we missed you at the party this past weekend. We looked everywhere for you. What happened?”

referring to the very same party that he admitted he had been having sex with Niesha at the entire time while everybody else was downstairs. Such a slut if anyone had ever seen one. Eren listened out of earshot as he made up some bullshit lie about things being too crowded but that he’d make it up to them. He had the gift of gab if no other talent. Meanwhile, Connie was being felt up by two similar looking women who had all but convinced him to take them to a private room. Eventually, bottle service would start to flood in and the next set was about to start. The lights dimmed and the DJ introduced the girl. “Everybody welcome to the stage..the always beautiful and talented, Mystique!” And God, was she stunning..long, jet black hair, gorgeous dark skin, beautiful face…and she was thick as all hell.

his eyes were darting around.. trying to focus on everything except what was in front of him..but that was all but impossible. Not for a lack of the girl being unattractive…but because she reminded him all too much of (y/n)! Almost identical if he stared too closely. Or possibly just wishful thinking. Did he really miss you like that? He figured there was no point in being dismissive to these poor ladies doing their jobs and decided to try and enjoy himself. But naturally, she set her sights on him. Switching her hips and twirling on her heels..the way she shook her ass right in front of the rapper. He was so mesmerized, just dazed by her dancing. Pulling a few bands from his pocket, he’d wave her over and she’d come running. Tossing up over a thousand dollars in one shot; making it rain over her. In that moment, it was as if nothing else or no one mattered. She was giving him a show too, ensuring that he spent it all on her. Towards the ending of her set, she’d get down from the stage and begin to give him a lap dance.

Needless to say, his boys were happy to see that he was out of his slump and enjoying some fun. Watching from afar with their own entertainers straddling their waist, Connie and Armin just snickered at their friend. “Oh, he’ll be fine now.” Meanwhile, his eyes averted up to her and stayed focused. Finally coming into contact with him, Mystique drove a hand up his leg before leaning down and brushing the side of his face.

“You wanna come to the back with me?” whispering so sweetly in his ear that it not only took nothing for him to agree but sent chills up Eren’s spine. Down to the adorable accent, this girl was reminiscent of you. It was scary but still..because you weren’t in his grasp, he’d settle and rise from his seat, following as she led the way. He was in a daze, zoned out and completely entranced with this girl. Maybe this was what he needed..a distraction and something else to get you out of his head. After a few minutes of walking, the dancer would open a door towards the back of the hallway and allow both of them inside. It was there that Eren was greeted by fluorescent lavender lighting; a cozy room with a lofty vibe, a pole and a single sofa, as well as a small glass table with a metal bucket..housing ice and a liquor bottle. It didn’t take long before the exotic dancer got him seated and situated, ready to show him a good time. Willing to tell him everything he wanted to hear..feel up on him if necessary. Which would work if he was some pathetic simp that needed sweet nothings whispered in his ear. He knew she was just trying to make a living so he’d indulge her. After all, he was an avid supporter of any lady trying to make her money. So much so, when Mystique made her way over with the bottle and a freshly poured glass, Eren allowed her to sit on his lap. He was sure he was no stranger to her or anyone else here. Babygirl was in for quite a payday..

“Here you go.”

“Thank you, mama.”

and that had her smiling from ear to ear. For a while, they sat and conversed; sipping their drinks and she’d sweet talk him, hoping to get a little more acquainted. And he couldn’t lie, she was looking good. Pretty smile with a great personality. All the while, toiling strands of his hair between her long fingernails. It had been a while since he’d been touched like that..but she wanted to show off a little more.

“Lemme see that little trick you did earlier..” requesting for a glimpse of her ass clapping again. And he wasn’t sparing any expense as the girl turned on some music and began stripping. She was perfect..had an impeccable body and knew how to seduce. Which was great..but as she continued twirling around that pole and taking off that rope, there was something that crossed Eren’s mind. A single thought that he couldn’t get rid of if he tried:

she wasn’t you.

for a moment, he completely blanked out, not even paying her any attention. Even when she began kissing up on his neck. Your words and everything you told him started playing in his head and making him desire you even more!

“..would you be mad if I said I would give you this pussy on the first night?”

“I’ll let you do whatever you want to it, just say when.”

“It’s been a while since so I need you to come stretch this shit out for me..”

you were what he wanted..the only one. So why the hell was he in this private room, letting a woman touch him who couldn’t do anything for him?! Just as she finished up her dance, another sentence that had stuck with him entered his brain.

“If you want to fuck her, date, whatever. Go do it. Before someone else does.”

He knew where he needed to be and exactly what had to be done. Tossing her a few more racks, totaling to about seven grand, he’d absentmindedly get up from his seat and pretend to have to head out. Instead, he had another goal in mind. One that should’ve been cleared days ago.

══✿══╡°˖✧✿✧˖°╞══✿════✿══╡°˖✧✿✧˖°╞══✿══

two days later… (also, apologies for all the page breaks and time skips. I didn’t want to keep writing a bunch of filler)

══✿══╡°˖✧✿✧˖°╞══✿════✿══╡°˖✧✿✧˖°╞══✿══

Houston, Texas; Hilton Hotel

“Nah, nah. Y’all so crazy.”

since touching down in Texas, (y/n) was really learning a lot and working hard on this new set. The entire group had made great progress and would be in tip top shape by the time their newest client arrived. You were hopeful that things would work out. For now, it was late and you all were in your hotel rooms, getting ready for dinner. You were currently on live with your followers while styling your hair. Your makeup was baking and looking quite flawless. Fenty red lipstick painted on your lips and silver pins holding your already curled strands in place. You were sitting on the floor with your phone propped into a tripod as your followers grilled you about your recent ‘scandal’ and all the comments on your pictures.

“Listen, I told y’all. That’s my friend. Ain’t nothing going on between us. Y’all nosy!” Smacking your lips playfully as the ladies in your chat insisted that there was something going on between you and EJ The Don. They had been watching diligently; like hawks over your posts and seeing him pop up. If anything, they wanted their ship to sail! You had a very friendly and amicable relationship with your followers. You talked to them as you would your homegirls and that’s why they continued to gravitate. However, you were never one to feed into rumors so you didn’t confirm or deny it. Little did you know, he was about to implode and shut down any suspicion or doubt in your mind or anyone else’s.

in the midst of twirling another curl around the wand tugging it out, (y/n) would get a knock at the door. “That’s probably them, ready to go. Hold on.” But the second you got up and answered the door; phone in hand and unexpecting, you were greeted by something that you wouldn’t have seen coming in a million years.

“I told you hoes to give me—“

but it wasn’t your girls or room service, awaiting you behind the door, but rather..someone very familiar, towering over you and capturing you in a very sudden and sultry kiss…for over five thousand prying eyes to see! A hand around the back of your neck and your body pulled into his own. Just then, your phone fell to the floor and was going ablaze with chats, asking to see what happened.

“Sorry, hope you don’t mind me stopping by.”

.･*:｡.･*:｡.･*:｡.･*:｡.･*:｡.･*:｡.･*:｡.･*:｡.･*:｡.･*:｡.･*: .･*:｡.･*:｡.･

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[dreamingofep]

Sinned Awakening pt. 25 🩸

An AU Elvis fic

(Vampire!Elvis/ Vampire Austin! Elvis x reader)

Character/Fandom: Elvis - Elvis (2022)

Prompt: Getting promoted to be Elvis full time housekeeper, you realize the man holds secrets beyond beliet and your undeniable attraction makes you tear the unknown. [Fem!Reader]

TW: Cussing, tension, ANGST, smut, mentions of blood/gore!!!

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 5.4k

A/N: Hello everyone! Thanks for your patience with this one! I have the second half of this part in Elvis’ perspective to get a better grasp of what he was going through early on in the relationship. Especially after new revelations get brought up to reader…

I thought this second half blends in perfectly to part 8. I reread it and might insert this new part in between the first and second days of meeting each other. Or write more parts in his perspective I don’t know…🫣 But that’s how you can read it if you feel so inclined!

If you'd like to start from the beginning, start here or Ao3! hope you enjoy and message and comment what you think.

A reminder, this is Vampire!Elvis so there is going to be mentions of blood/gore from here on out. If that's not your thing, sorry but it's needed for the story.

The sound of the door slamming rang in your ears like a dog whistle. It was painful and made you want to collapse to your knees. Not only did the sound hurt, but your heart also hurt. You felt it down to your bones how much pain Elvis felt when you were telling him how you were questioning his morals.

You quickly open the front door again in hopes of stopping him. He was getting on his motorcycle and putting the keys in the ignition. A couple of the guys were standing around with worried looks on their faces, unsure of where he was going. They look up to you for guidance, hoping you had an idea of what he was doing. You start to run to him and in a blink of an eye you were right in front of him. You were shocked to find that you were this fast. You grab onto Elvis’ wrist once more, hoping he will listen.

“Elvis please, tell me where you’re going,” you beg. He had his sunglasses on, shielding you from the cold stare he had.

“Please, let go of me, I have to go.” You do as he says and let go of his arm. He starts the bike and revs the engine, making you jump at the sound. He pulls the throttle and speeds down the driveway. The front gates open and you watch as Elvis leaves your view, the breath getting sucked from your lungs.

The guys stand there motionless, not knowing what to do or say to you. You feel their eyes judging you, waiting for you to say something.

“Would you stop staring at me,” you snap at them. They all advert their eyes somewhere else, not wanting to upset you more.

There was this pit in your stomach that was filled with emptiness and despair. You did feel horrible for fighting with Elvis. The few times you two got into arguments, it felt awful, and didn’t like seeing him so upset. But this fight was different, you were married now, bonded vampires that were supposed to love each other til the end of time. You’ve barely been awake for twenty-four hours and managed to piss off your husband so bad he’s running away from you.

Great.

You step closer to Jerry and sigh.

“How much did you guys hear?” You ask. He pauses, unsure how to answer you without pissing you off more.

“We heard enough…” he says softly. You wince, not liking that you had an audience for your fight.

“Was it that bad?” You ask in a hushed tone.

He doesn’t look at you, he just keeps looking forward and nervously bites the inside of his cheek.

“Well… it was rough, let’s just say that much,” he responds.

You grumble at the confession. It didn’t take much for you to feel bad about the whole thing but hearing from another person is tough to handle.

“Fuck,” you mutter, turning to go back inside the house. You go to sit on the couch and put your face in your hands. You felt like you were on the brink of having an emotional breakdown. Everything felt cold and barren here without Elvis.

The front door opens again and you feel Jerry sit next to you. You don’t want to look at him, knowing you’re going to instantly cry. You both sit there in silence, not sure exactly what to say.

“You weren’t wrong though,” he says gently. You take a deep breath and look over at him.

“It wasn't easy to hear, but he needed to understand how you felt,” he continues.

“Yeah, I know,” you mumble.

“But he wasn’t wrong either.” He says low.

You shoot him a look of surprise and he looks away out of fear.

“I get it, I know he’s completely different from when I first met him. But he wasn’t listening to me at all! Wasn’t trying to meet in the middle.” You say frustrated.

He nods his head, “I get why that’s frustrating. Elvis is stubborn as you know, he loves having it his way,” he snickers, “but I think you doubt how much he loves you.” He says truthfully. You have to pinch your hand to keep yourself from blowing up on him.

“I know he loves me,” you growl at him.

“I’m sorry, y/n, I really don’t think you do,” he says, trying to get you to listen.

“Are you kidding me right now? Of course I know my own husband loves me!” You hiss at him.

“Y/n just hear me out, okay? Did he tell you how much he wanted you around when he first met you?”

You take a second to regroup yourself and you reposition yourself on the couch to look at him more head-on.

“I don’t know what you mean… he told me how much he wanted me after tasting my blood for the first time, is that what you mean?” You ask a little confused.

“No before that. He laid his eyes on you and thought you were the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen. You walked in that room and completely changed his life,” he explains.

Hearing that made your heart soar. You didn’t know that he felt like that so early on.

“I didn’t know that… when did he tell you this?” You squeak out.

“Well, after your first day and the incident,” he puts lightly, “he came back and he looked different, like he thought about his whole life differently. I asked him what was wrong and he wouldn’t answer me right away, he was too deep in thought. Then he looked at me and his eyes were the clearest I’ve ever seen. He told me he’s never felt like that before… that he thought he loved you.”

“I thought he was absolutely crazy for saying sucha thing. He had just met you. But I didn’t say a word, knowing how much it would piss him off if I questioned his feelings for you… I know now that he was absolutely right. I’m the one that feels crazy for questioning it.” He says embarrassed.

More tears rolled down your cheeks, feeling overwhelmed by it all. You hate that you argued over something so petty with him. You felt so blind that you didn’t see or even questioned how much Elvis loved you. Your love ran deep from the second you walked into that room. Your bond tied you to each other instantly and he knew it, he was just scared you didn’t feel the same.

You wipe some of your tears and look back at Jerry.

“I’m an idiot… I always hurt him and question his feelings for me. I’ve been so blind,” you weep into your hands.

“No that’s not true. You were human, your senses don’t work like they do now. It wasn’t as obvious for you as it was for him. Don’t be too hard on yourself y/n,” he tries to explain. No amount of reassurance could make you feel better about this. You needed to make this right with him.

“I knew he felt strongly for me early on, I just had no idea how much… God, I need to apologize to him,” you cry.

“It’s going to be okay, you both just need some space to think clearly,” he says.

“He didn’t tell you guys where he was going? Not even a clue?” You push.

Jerry shakes his head and looks at you sorrowfully.

“No, I’m sorry. He just told us to go get his bike. He was pretty upset and would have probably bitten our heads off if we kept him waiting,” he says stiffly.

You couldn’t help but panic a little. No one knew where he was going or when he was coming back. Jerry sees how upset you are and doesn’t exactly know what to say.

“He might be out there looking for someone…” he says gently. You don’t understand what he’s talking about, Elvis didn’t mention anything like this to you.

“Who exactly?” You ask.

“Ever since he bit you and you didn’t exactly change right away, he was a nervous wreck. He had no idea what had happened or if you were going to wake up. He thought he had almost killed you,” he says regretfully.

“He kicked us all out of the hotel and told us to go back home and start looking for answers. Any sort of sign that you’d be okay or any lore that might explain what’s happening to you. He also didn’t want us around you at all. He was already possessive around you enough when you were human but he wouldn’t let us near the bedroom. I’ve never seen him so scared and rattled.” He sighs.

Your heart cries for Elvis, you wish you could have comforted him in some way.

“So you guys came back here? Did you find any answers?” You ask intrigued.

“No, not exactly… we were trying to find older vampires that may have heard about this kind of thing. Or better yet, we hoped to find another Chosen pair.”

You feel your heart flutter at the thought. It would be incredible to find other Chosen vampires and have them explain to you both what it’s like. Explain to you your abilities and how they work.

You grab Jerry’s wrist in excitement and have his full attention on you.

“Well, did you find any?!” You ask excitedly.

He looks down at your hand around his wrist and tries to move.

“Umm, y/n, you’re hurting me,” he grunts. You instantly let go of him and feel bad.

“Shit I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to,” you say panicked.

“No, it’s okay. Elvis might kill me that I have your scent on me but it’s fine, I’ll live,” he teases, rubbing his red wrist.

“Stop don’t joke like that!” You laugh, “I won’t let him do anything to you don’t worry. But seriously, what happened? Did you find anyone?” You continue.

“The thing about old vampires, is they don’t like to be seen. They either don’t like the modern world or they’re too stubborn to leave their house. A lot like how Elvis was in Vegas. He wouldn’t ever leave before you came around. He was too afraid he’d go on a feeding spree,” he jokes. It didn’t feel like a joke to you though, he was unpredictable over there, and he might have done just that.

He watches how that thought makes you nervous and tries to distract you by talking about something else.

“So to answer your question, no, we haven’t found anyone that can give us answers. I’m sorry y/n. I wish we could help you guys figure this all out and understand what happened to you, but we have no idea. I have a feeling that’s where Elvis went. He’s looking for answers. I’m sure he wants to know what you guys need as far as blood. But most importantly, he needs to know what happened to you. Why you didn’t wake up after he bit you,” he presses.

You both sit there in silence for a while, unsure of what to say next. You had no answers and without Elvis here, it didn’t seem like you were going to get any.

Jerry stands up and starts to walk away, “I’ll leave you alone… you’ve had a busy first day as a vampire,” he says low.

Shit, he’s right, you’ve barely been up for a day and so much has happened and you’ve learned so much.

You continue to sit there, unsure of what to do. You glance at the clock and it reads 2:30 am. It dawns on you that you weren’t tired. You were wide awake and had no idea what to do to occupy your time now.

You felt your head swirl with a million thoughts. There was so much you wanted to say to Elvis. You needed to apologize for how blind you’ve been and how regretful you are for saying those awful things. He changed and you couldn’t hold what he did in the past over him. You can’t imagine how scary it was for him to bite you and watch you lay there motionless for days yet again.

You didn’t want to be seen by anyone and wanted to hide from everyone after they heard your fight with Elvis. Making your way up the stairs, you open the door to the bedroom and close it softly. You let out a deep sigh when you turn around and see the bedroom dark and barren.

This wasn’t how you pictured yourself on your first day as a vampire. You wanted everything to be alright and have him by your side. You walk over to the bed and sit on the corner of it. It felt cold and uninviting. All you could see was you two lying in the middle of the bed holding each other, whispering tender words to each other. But that was a cruel daydream that wasn’t going to be happening any time soon.

*

The First Day with You, After the Incident

Elvis silently curses at himself, ticked off he treated you like such an asshole. If he had some control, maybe he could have had a normal conversation with you and not scared you off so easily. Your scent still swirled in his head and made his mouth continue to water. He had a hard choice to make. Either follow you home or go back upstairs and try to forget how you tasted. He knew both options were going to be torture to him and he didn’t like either option.

Sulking back upstairs from the parking garage, all he could think of was you. How you looked, how you said his name, how your blood spilled down his arm like sweet honey. The closer he gets to the penthouse, the more fragrant your scent becomes. He starts to walk through the hallway and he looks at his men standing there with their red eyes glowing. Hungry.

It pissed Elvis off seeing them lusting after your blood. It didn’t make sense why he felt so strongly about shielding you from them but he hated that they were starving to have a taste of you. He pins one of them to the wall and quickly gets in their face.

“You better not be thinkin’ of feeding off her,” he seethes, “you won’t lay a finger on her you understand,” he barks at him. He quickly nods his head and looks away from Elvis. Elvis gives him another shove for good measure and quickly goes into the suite, slamming the door harshly.

He lets out a sigh when he’s once again wrapped in your essence. How could one human be so luring to him? He didn’t understand what made you so different from all the rest. Never had he experienced the immediate pull to a human quite like you. Sure, most people’s scents drew him closer to them as he wanted to feed from them, but you were so much different. Just the way your heart sounded to him was the most captivating sound he’d heard in a long time. The way it fluttered and faltered when he talked to you, he wanted to talk to you for hours to just get to hear it beat for him.

He goes to sit on the piano bench and regains some focus. But it was no use, all he wanted was you. Flashing images of your captivating eyes make him feel like a weak puddle. Oh, how he wished he could stare into your eyes longer. See what’s underneath those oceanic pools and swim in them. He huffs quietly, frustrated he could feel like this in a matter of minutes for you. He wanted you back here now, but you were much too frazzled to be around him.

A knock on the door shakes him from his daydream and looks up to see who it is.

“Yeah?!” He yells.

The door cracks open and Jerry peeks his head in.

“Are you okay-,” he starts to ask but the aroma of your blood is almost too much for him. He holds his breath as he waits for Elvis to answer.

“No, not really,” Elvis grumbles.

“Is there something we can do, or?” He asks carefully, knowing Elvis is not in the best of moods.

Elvis nervously wipes his palms on the tops of his thighs. He doesn’t exactly know what to say or try to explain how he feels.

“I don’t know… I don’t know what to do man. That woman… I can’t stop thinkin’ about her,” he admits.

“Are you sure you want her around after today?” He says carefully. Elvis glares daggers at him and that one look is all Jerry needs to shut up quickly.

Elvis stands up and straightens out his shirt, “she’ll be back up here tomorrow, you better call her,” he instructs. He goes to the window and looks out at the city below him, the streets crawling with life. He wonders where you live if you live close or further out of town. It would probably be easy to find where you live, your scent is something he could never forget and could easily find you. But not tonight, his mind was too all over the place to be so close to you again.

He turns back around and takes a deep breath in before speaking.

“I don’t know how but… I’m totally captivated by her. I don’t understand why I feel like this. One second I wanted to suck her dry and the next I just wanted to…” he pauses, searching for the right words, but he knew the exact one he felt, “love her. I just want to love her. She’s so perfect and beautiful, I love her,” he proclaims.

Jerry remains quiet, not wanting to tick him off more by his own personal feelings about the matter. Elvis tries to rationalize that he might feel this way because of tasting your blood but he’s never felt like this for any human. No one’s come close to the feelings he has for you. It scared him a little to be quite frank.

He needed to calm down and think rationally, a lot happened and he couldn’t just jump to the conclusion that he loved you the second he saw you. Those kinds of things don’t happen in real life. Those are things that happen in fairytales and his life was no fairytale.

Or could it turn into one with you in it?

Stop, you idiot, that’s not happening, he scolds himself.

Elvis goes to sit down on the sofa and contemplates what exactly he should do til you arrive tomorrow. It felt like such a long time to him until he was going to see your face again. Jerry doesn’t exactly know what to say and starts to leave the room. Before he closes the door, he turns back around to speak, “Forgive me, but were you still… hungry? There’s someone downstairs that we can have up here for you,” he informs Elvis.

Elvis sighs and nods his head. Maybe he just needed a distraction, something to take his mind off of you.

“Sure, maybe I’m too starved to think clearly. Send her up whenever,” Elvis says flatly. He goes to change his clothes to get your scent off of him. But who was he kidding, that’s not happening, he only wanted more. He changes anyway into a new button-up shirt and slacks and looks over himself in the mirror. His eyes were extra vibrant and not so dull looking. It surprised him after having so little of your blood, it made him feel dramatically better.

He smooths the hair on the side of his head and tries to regroup himself.

She’s just a girl… that’s all.

Don’t be an idiot and fall head-first in love with her.

You’re just too starved, anyone would taste good to you, he thinks.

Lies, all lies.

An hour later, there’s a soft knock at the door. Elvis takes a deep breath and goes to answer the door. A short, cute brunette stands in front of him, ogling him the second she sees his face.

He smiles at her, finding her reaction to him cute. She was cute. Not beautiful like you but still attractive.

“Hi, darlin’,” he says smoothly. He hears her heart gallop away in her chest and he does like the sound of it. “Would you like to come in?” He asks her.

“Oh, yes,” she says softly. Elvis opens the door and steps aside so she can step inside. He leads her to the sofa and sits next to her.

“What’s your name sweetheart?” He asks, brushing her hair off her shoulders and exposing her neck to him more. She takes a sharp breath in before speaking, nerves rushing through her.

“Amy. I saw your show last night. You were amazing,” she gushes. He gives a small smile, grabbing her small, delicate hand in his.

“Thank you darlin’. I’m so glad you enjoyed it. Did you have a favorite part?” He asks coyly. She giggles softly and hides her face from him.

“Oh all of it, but,” she blushes and stops when she feels him rubbing circles on the back of her hand. Her heart flutters more and he likes it, he wants to hear it get louder.

“But what darlin’?” Elvis asks her.

She takes a deep breath before speaking and looks at his hand on hers.

“But I didn’t get a kiss when you walked through the crowd. You walked right by me,” she says bluntly.

“Oh well I can fix that for you,” he coos.

Her heart hammers away in his ears as she nods her head and he leans in for the kiss. Her lips were soft and she sighed when she felt him kiss her. He didn’t necessarily hate it, it was nice to kiss someone who loved him already. He gives her another kiss as she wraps her arms around his neck. Her body screamed for him and the heat that came off of her was palpable. He put a hand on the back of her neck, pulling her in more and she loved it. He didn’t feel the same though, he just wanted to bite her, make her forget about that part of the evening, and get her to leave. Elvis pulls away from her and she’s left breathless.

“Was that okay? Hope I didn’t disappoint you,” he says slyly. She looks up at him with big needy eyes, clutching onto his shirt tightly.

“Oh it was perfect, thank you,” she blushes. “Could I have another?” She asks.

“Sure honey. Did you want to stay here or go in the bedroom?” He says low. Her heart skips a beat, just like he thought it would.

“Oh, we could go to the bedroom,” she whispers.

Elvis gets up and leads her to the bedroom, closing the door softly behind him. She sits on the edge of the bed, waiting expectantly for him. He steps in front of her, placing his hands on the tops of her thighs and rubbing softly there. He can feel the heat radiating off her body and the warmth of her core begging for him.

“Elvis?” She asks shyly. He looks over her, watching how the pulse in her neck rises.

Bite right there, his mind screams at him.

“What is it sweetheart,” he hums, tracing the side of her neck softly with the back of his finger.

“Touch me,” she whimpers. He places a kiss on her cheek and slowly raises her dress higher, exposing her naked core to him. He’s a little shocked, not expecting her to be so blunt.

“You are quite a bad girl aren’t ya?” He teases.

“I don’t know what you mean,” she retorts, opening her legs more for him to get closer to her. He hears her heartbeat rises quickly and all he can do is get closer to her neck, wanting to take a big bite there. The scent of her blood smelled appetizing and he placed kisses in the crook of her neck. She moans when she feels his lips on her.

An image of you flashes in his mind the more he nips and teases this girl.

Oh fuck.

Those beautiful eyes of yours take over his thoughts and how pretty they would look if they were the ones looking up at him right now. Damn, he wanted you here, he knew this girl was just a distraction but it wasn’t working. He wanted to taste you again, see what it would be like to taste your blood fresh from your neck. He groans at the idea and keeps nipping at the girl’s neck.

She starts getting restless as Elvis is so laser-focused on her neck.

“Elvis please,” she begs.

“Fuck, y/n,” he growls.

She freezes, “that’s not my name,” she grumbles.

“Sorry, give me a second honey,” he grumbles, trying to refocus on her scent and not yours.

She pulls him closer and rubs his soft length, trying to tease him. She’s a little surprised he’s not physically aroused as she pulls her neck away from him.

“Are you okay? Do you want me?” She asks slightly annoyed.

No, I don’t, he thinks flatly.

I want y/n. I want her all to myself and feed on that beautiful, beckoning body of hers…

Fuck, stop! You can’t have her! She’s too innocent to ruin her like that, he thinks. Just feed off of this girl and get over y/n.

He looks back at Amy and gives her a cute smile.

“Of course I do, I just wanna tease you a little more,” he coos, giving her a soft kiss on the lips. She smiles at that thought and goes back to touching him. He tries to get himself to focus on how she feels in his hands. Her skin was soft and supple around her hips. She liked it when he squeezed her tighter and started to nip at her neck. He feels her hands go to unbutton his pants and he grunts when he feels her hand wrap around his length.

Another image of your hand flashes in his head and his hips involuntarily buck into her hand.

“Fuck,” he groans.

Jesus, focus. Focus on anything but y/n jerking your cock in her hand, he thinks frustratedly.

It doesn’t work. All he wants is you.

She groans when she watches him get hard in her hand. His mind keeps going back to you time and time again. Wishing you were the one making him hard and wanting more. It’s terrible, he shouldn’t be thinking like this but you’ve got a hold on him it seems. All he can do is try to focus on her rising heartbeat and the way he can smell her blood coursing through her veins. He could feel his eyes start to shift, his blood lust overtaking his coherent thoughts. He lays her back on the bed, making sure she can’t see his changing eyes. He teases her entrance, rubbing his tip through her folds. She moans loudly, clutching onto his arms tightly. He quickly goes back to nipping her neck, feeling his fangs start to descend.

Bite her, now.

He grunts quietly and slides in a few inches of his cock inside her. She groans louder and squirms underneath him.

“Fuck Elvis. You feel so damn good,” she whimpers.

“Mhmm baby,” he grumbles, sucking her neck, getting that spot ready to sink his teeth into.

He swivels his hips into her more as he keeps his eyes closed, trying to not scare her by the state of his eyes. But this is an awful idea, all he sees is your face and your pleading eyes.

“Fuck, y/n,” Elvis grunts.

Oh God, this isn’t good. He can’t get you off his mind to save his life.

“What?” She asks confused.

“Oh baby nothing,” he coos, but extremely frustrated at himself.

He can’t hold on anymore and sinks his teeth into her neck. She lets out a loud scream, the pain of his fangs branding into her neck. Elvis starts to suck the blood out of her greedily, swallowing mouthfuls and ready to feel his energy start to rise. But this was different, he didn’t feel that much better than before. In fact, he didn’t want to feed anymore because all he could do was compare how you tasted to her.

A little panic sets in.

Oh God, what is happening to me? How can I crave one little human’s blood this much that it ruins all others for me? I just met her, she means nothing to me…

He carefully takes his fangs out of her and tries to get his appearance back to a normal human state. It was difficult at first, the smell of you lingered in his head and his imagination was running wild which did not help at all. Once he regained focus and control of his fangs to disappear, he looked back at Amy, mortified with what she had seen.

“What did you-,” she starts to say mortified but Elvis cuts her off, knowing he needs to get her to forget that part.

“Nothing honey. I didn’t bite you, you didn’t feel any pain, you won’t remember that part,” he compels. She takes a sharp breath and he watches as the memory fades from her eyes.

He spreads her legs wider, thrusting in and out of her faster and making her feel a wave of intense pleasure. She moans loudly, her eyes rolling in the back of her head.

“That’s right baby, take my cock like that. Makes you feel so good hmm?” He asks. She gasps for air, writhing underneath him.

“Yes, Elvis, oh my god,” she groans.

He was still too frazzled that he didn’t like feeding tonight. He’s never felt like this since he was always so hungry. He couldn’t fuck this girl anymore, he couldn’t care to keep up this charade.

He glides his hand down her body and finds her swollen bud. He rubs it in concentrated circles and it makes her buck her hips off the bed.

“I want you to come for me,” he tells her, edging her closer and closer to release. It doesn’t take long until she’s screaming his name and her walls are squeezing around his cock. It wasn’t anything mind-blowing to Elvis, his mind was on you and nothing else. He didn’t enjoy sex the same as humans. There was a time when he could enjoy it but tonight was not the night. He was done with entertaining this girl and just wanted some peace and quiet to figure out what was going on with him.

He pulled out of her gently, pulling down her dress and bending down to pull up his own pants. She sits up a little dazed and confused when she watches him stuff his hard cock back into his pants.

“Did you not like it?” She asks a little hurt.

He goes to place a soft kiss on her cheek and smiles when he looks back at her. Convincing as ever.

“Of course I did. I loved every second of it,” he coos.

Fucking liar.

She believed him and grinned sweetly at him.

“Oh good I’m glad. I’m here for a few more days if you ever want to spend some more time together,” she says flirtatiously.

I’d rather never see you again, he thinks.

“That would be wonderful darlin’,” he says with a smile. “Thank you for stopping by. I do need to get ready for my show now,” he says gently. She was understanding and started to get up off the bed.

Elvis leads her out to the front door and gives her one last kiss before she leaves, smiling sweetly. Once she turns her back, his smile fades and he closes the door.

He doesn’t know whether to panic or not over this whole situation. How could he have had so little of your blood and yet he was so fulfilled? Why couldn't he compel you either? Was he that weak?

It was terrifying for him in a way. All blood was the same to him, not one was better than the next. As long as it came from someone’s warm neck, he was fine. But now, you’ve changed everything. It scared him, but he knew he wouldn’t be the same from this point forward.

•

•

•

Tagging: @powerotelvis @burninlovebutler

@neptuneismysister @velvetelvis @ccab @presleyenterprise @theresalwaysep

@prompted-wordsmith @sillybookmarks @dkayfixates @ellie-24 @rktismylife-blog

@myradiaz @tacozebra051

@thatbanditqueen

@18|kpeters@flwrs4aust @emma181873

@austinswhitewolf@eliseinmemphis

@everythingelvispresley @chasingwildflowers @idontwanttoputanything @ohjustpeachy

@elvisalltheway101 @austinsmutler @kingdomforapony.

@generoustreemystic@claire-elvisgirl

@ashtag6887 @burnthheparaphilia @richardslady121

@jaqueline19997

@returntopresley. @iloveelvis @rjmartin11 @that-hotdog @louisejoy86 @misspresley @cattcb @annapresley8

@arrolyn1114 @raginginkedslut @epthedream69

@mh777ep1938 @50sexyshadesfashionista

@oldhOllywOod @hooked-on-elvis @livelovedilfs @sloppiest-of-jos

#elvis presley #elvis presley fanfiction #elvis fic #elvis smut #elvis imagine #elvis presely smut #70s elvis #vampire Elvis #elvis x reader #elvis x you #elvis x y/n #elvis fans #elvis fanfiction

[thirstydiglett]

I promise Im working on requests but this HAD to be written, Shuggy is my life rn and you all have to come along for the ride

Oil and Water

Summary: Once a year, Buggy and Shanks meet at a predetermined island to jump each other’s bones. And every year, Shanks asks the same question.

Pairings: Shuggy! (Akagami no Shanks/Buggy the Clown)

Rating: NC17 Minors DNI

Warnings: omg Diglett actually wrote angst what is happening, anal sex, potentially ableist slurs (idiot, stupid)

———————NC-17 Minors DNI———————

Shanks

The door slammed and Buggy wason top of Shanks like oil on water. Pressing him against the door, wrenching him back by his shiny red hair. Shanks chuckled in response, not knowing exactly what to say. His partner was always eager, but this year had been different from all the others, the countless others they’d been meeting like this. A glance across the predetermined hotel bar, a sliding-over next to him, and then those big soft hands grabbing onto Shanks for dear life, tugging him to Buggy’s hotel room without even the pretense of “hi! How are you? How’s the crew?”

Apparently a chuckle had been the wrong way to respond, because Buggy positively whined and shoved his entire body up against Shanks. Warm, beautiful, familiar. It wasn’t unusual for pirates to go long months without seeing their homes. Shanks had to wait an entire year just to spend one night with his.

“I need you now, Akagami,” the clown growled. His futile attempt at dominance was as familiar to Shanks as his lover himself. Buggy was unbuttoning Shanks’s shirt with shaky fingers as he smeared makeup-covered kisses on Shanks’s neck. Shanks wouldn’t wash the places Buggy kissed him for ages after they parted. Just his way of keeping his lover close to him. God, just a little closer.

Shanks had few weaknesses. Apart from the little boy in the East Blue, Buggy was all of them.

Buggy finally managed to remove Shanks’s shirt and was groaning. “…want my cock in your mouth, wanna be inside you all night long, Akagamiii…”

Shanks finally caught the clown’s eyes. Impossibly soft, impossibly blue. Such a rough man to have such a gentle heart.

“Fuck me, Buggy,” Shanks whispered, watching with delight as his lover licked his lips, grabbed him by the shoulders and flung him onto the bed.

The pair moved together like oil and water, always touching, always somehow separate. Repelled by one another 364 days a year, desperate to cling as close as possible on the other day. Their mouths met in sloppy, hungered kisses as they awkwardly tugged their pants off, their clothing thrown haphazardly around the room. No weapons, they’d agreed a long time ago. Never any weapons.

Buggy thrust inside him, cooking oil he’d nabbed from the hotel kitchen serving as lube, and Shanks groaned despite himself. Buggy’s cock always stretched him just a bit more than was comfortable at first, but the clown’s soft grunts and fevered kisses kept him going until the pain succumbed to pure pleasure.

Buggy slid his hand around Shanks’s shaft, throbbing for attention, and stroked him as he thrust. Shanks felt his back arch against the cheap hotel linens and had to muffle a wail of pleasure into a pillow.

Buggy immediately grabbed his hair, tugged it back. “Say it loud for me. Tell me how much you want me.”

“I need you, Buggy…” Shanks groaned breathily. “I love you, love everything you do to me…”

“Fuck yeah, just like that…” the sweat ruining Buggy’s makeup, the trembles in those strong hands—all signs he was approaching his climax.

“Buggy…” Shanks cried, not even trying to silence himself anymore. “Inside me… fuck, cum inside me, please…”

“Oh fuck, Shaaaaanks—“ he buried his face in Shanks’s shoulder, biting down hard enough to bruise as he came, wave after wave of it filling Shanks, leaking out in small puddles that would be a bitch to explain to housekeeping later.

Finally, he collapsed against the other’s chest, his red nose nestled in the crook of Shanks’s neck. The pair caught their breath for a moment, but Shanks’s cock was still aching, unfulfilled. All he could think of was more.

“Turn over,” Shanks finally managed to gasp, and Buggy, his dominant side placated, obeyed without protest.

As Shanks filled his lover, all he could think about was that blue hair, those blue eyes, that tender heart that Shanks was sure no one else ever got to see. It spurred him on as the sun set behind the cheap hotel curtains, and oil and water combined yet again to make something entirely new.

***

As they lay in bed in the darkness later, arms tight around one another, Shanks asked the question. The one he asked every year.

“Will you marry me, Buggy?”

Buggy laughed out loud. “Marry you?? Are you fucking kidding?”

Shanks smiled, brushing a lock of long blue hair from Buggy’s face. “I never am.”

“You’re a fucking moron. You think I wanna join your crew, be your first mate or something?”

Shanks smiled, shook his head. “You don’t have to be my first mate. Just…be my husband.”

Buggy laughed again, harsh, forced. “What kind of waste of a pirate wants to get married?” He snorted, rolling over. “Loser.”

And that was that.

Shanks couldn’t say he was surprised. Buggy had the same response every year. But he couldn’t help but wonder…. Someday, maybe. “Ok, Buggy. I understand.”

Buggy snuggled against Shanks’s chest, curling into him as his breathing slowed. “Stupid Akagami. Your chest is soft though…”

It wasn’t long until they were both snoring, oil and water, separate but clinging as close as they possibly could, never quite becoming one.

***

[Buggy]

They parted the next morning with an awkward handshake and a terse “see you next year” before heading to their separate ships.

“Buggy!” His crew was delighted to see him again (as always, the idiots) as he walked up the planks onto the ship.

Mohji slapped his back as they set sail. “So what’d you get up to? Was your mission a success?”

Buggy shrugged him off. “Yeah, yeah. It went great.” His gaze was out at sea, watching the Akagami pirate ship disappear over the horizon in the opposite direction.

Will you marry me?

And as the old familiar emptiness crept in again, the feeling of floating with nothing beneath him to keep him from drowning, the same familiar question crept into his head.

What if I’d said yes?

End

#shuggy will be the death of me #shanks loves him so much buggy just has to accept it #shanks #akagami no shanks #buggy #buggy the clown #shuggy #shanks x buggy #one piece #Diglett writes

[wri0thesley]

going a wee bit insane over the thought of forced ballroom dancing. ayato is my prime candidate for this, thinking about him forcing poor reader to waltz with him (with the threat of punishment hanging over their head for every time they mess up), but the harbingers are up there as well… the tsaritsa holding a ball and pantalone (or childe) dragging his newest "pet" with him, hands dipping lower than what’s considered proper as the dance goes on, but no one daring to say anything… i’m frothing at the mouth fr ahsldjlajdkdj

oh . . . oh i am THINKING, anon

cw: yandere behaviour, abuse, suggestive (especially childe's), death (in childe's, not of reader), violence (in childe's, not of reader), childe should be his own warning i guess.

characters featured: ayato, diluc, childe, pantalone

ayato is as princely as they come; and you are more than aware that, in such occasions as this, you are the envy of every other person with no ring on their finger. ayato kisses your hand, his thumb trailing over your wedding ring - your bonds, your chains - and leads you out to the floor to open the dancing, as is his right.

"your dancing has improved," he says, with only the lightest smile at the corner of his lips. it goes unspoken it has improved because the last time you had failed to keep up with ayato's waltz, he had made you practise with thoma until you had collapsed in the housekeeper's arms, faint and exhausted and aching.

"i'm glad you've noticed, my lord," you say, softly, your eyes fixed on ayato's chest instead of up at those pale violet eyes that are capable of more cruelties than anyone in this room would ever suspect. you see the twitch of his lips; the mole beneath his mouth, the proud chin, every feature you often wish you could never see again.

"perhaps i should make you practise with thoma more often," he says, smiling, his gloved hand resting just a little too low on your waist.

(nobody will say anything; the commissioner is in love with his sweet little spouse, after all. how darling, that the two of you are still in the honeymoon phase--)

he spins you, laughing when he pulls you back. you can see thoma at the side of the room, smiling, his eyebrows drawn in in the merest suggestion of anxiety. he looks at you like he wants to take you away from all of this.

ayato's eyes follow your gaze. his hands become iron chains.

"perhaps not, after all," he says. "i do not like to share my toys."

you cannot deny diluc ragnvindr a dance, when he comes to you. you want to, of course - the dawn winery tycoon has frightened you for months now, with intense crimson eyes and his awkward stance, with his gruff low voice and his habit of showing up wherever you are. you are unsettled by his presence.

even if it were not his ball - even if it were not his winery walls you were currently ensconced in, dressed in soft blues as far away from the colour of diluc's eyes as you can manage - you could not deny him. not when your family are all of a-twitter on the other side of the room. a husband like diluc, after all, would be the greatest of coups--

and you have been raised to be polite.

"of course, master diluc," you say, with a pasted on smile. his hands are so warm, even through his gloves, as he brings you out onto the floor - and then, finds a shadowy corner to place his hands urgently on your waist. it is perfectly proper - diluc is never anything but - and yet, it leaves you unsettled.

heat soaks through your bodice and through his gloves, his hands feeling like the desperate clutch of claws upon you. the shadows ripple about your feet. diluc does not like to be the centre of attention, you know - but you still do not feel comfortable, amongst the darkness of the night with him.

the string quartet draw to a close. you can see, from your position, several other likely candidates for dances - captain kaeya, in blues that would match your gown. albedo, the knights of favonius chief alchemist, who you know from other balls will hold you at exactly the right distance and pressure. acting grand master jean, who always needs a moment to relax and let her guard down at such parties--

but diluc's grip does not falter.

"another dance," he says to you, voice stilted- and it is not a question.

childe does not care about a single one of the scandalised looks when he drags you to the centre of the fray - and you have learnt better than to argue against the eleventh fatui harbinger, who thinks that you are cutest when you are spitting blood and vitriol at him, and you're certain would welcome you to make this party a little more interesting.

there are still flecks of blood on your face, from the fatui grunt whomst your harbinger had decided had left his gaze lingering on your exposed shoulders too long - but they are nothing compared to the blood staining childe's hands, the wild light in his eyes, or the fact that there is still a dagger at his hip. he is far from the only person here with a weapon on him - but he is the only one with it so on display, still shimmering dripping scarlet on the white marble floor of the palace.

"dance with me," childe says to you, his grin wide, his eyes still the colour of the darkest night-time sky from his furious pleasure at the events that occurred before he even got to this party. and so you do - and so you let childe drag you against him, let hands roam all over your body, let him dip his head down and kiss you in a clash of tongues and teeth.

disapproval radiates from almost every person in the room, but such things have never stopped childe.

"dancing should be like fighting," he says to you, with a particularly hard nip to your lower lip. he breathes in, hot and wanting. his hands slide past your waist and cup your ass, dragging you closer against him so you can feel the stiff heat of him through his trousers. "fighting should be like fucking. and so it stands to reason that dancing should be like fucking, and fucking should be like fighting, doesn't it?"

you swallow.

"perhaps not in front of everyone," you try and say - but childe just laughs again, wild and free and uncaring, and whirls you away in a furious move that does not at all match the waltz pace that the musicians have set.

"and why not?" he says to you, glittering dangerously, as fear and cold ice crawl up your spine. "don't worry. if anyone looks at you when i fuck you, i'll carve their eyes out."

it would not be a romantic threat in any circumstance; but for childe, it is all the worse, because you know that he means it.

this what you must understand; you belong to pantalone. and he never lets you forget it; that he found you in the gutter and prised you out of it himself, seeing in you something that could be made to glitter. you owe him - and not just for the glittering jewels about your throat, but for the cleanliness of your hair and the newfound straightness to your bearing. for him making you his galatea; perfect and adored, polished to a shine, and utterly and completely his.

so when he brings you out to the ballroom floor, gentlemanly as ever, soft sighs take the audience as they watch - as they think on your former place in life, and how you have been raised above it. pantalone smiles down at you, his grip on your waist bruising, as he brushes his lips against the shell of your ear.

"don't forget your place," he murmurs, his gloved fingers skimming your spine. "don't forget how easily i could take it all away from you."

he is not wild and free; pantalone does everything with a slow consideration, a careful weighing up of options. you are his precisely because you had no other options, and you are thoroughly trapped in his net. abandon pantalone, and abandon luxury and safety and warmth and respect, sleep in the gutter and freeze to death and have those same people who look at you now starry-eyed avoid meeting your haunted gaze lest they catch that most despicable of all ills, poverty--

when pantalone tips your chin up to pull you into a kiss, you know that your only option is to kiss him back like you mean it.

#drabble #these were supposed to be hcs and yet #yandere for ts #dark content for ts #genshin impact posting #pantalone x reader #childe x reader #diluc x reader #ayato x reader #violence for ts #not sfw text #writing

[icosaur]

The depth of your embrace feels like home (I'm homesick) pt.1

König x FemReader one-shot

23k+ words

Mentioning of: military and rescue mission, kidnapping, ptsd, minor character death, fluff and smut, size and hand kink, etc.

no y/n mentioning

The depth of your embrace feels like home (I'm homesick) pt.2

"This is a search and rescue mission," the captain slid, across the table in front of him, a pale blue folder including some paperwork about a missing individual they were assigned, as an expert hostage rescue team, to locate and return unharmed, "any questions?" he saw one of his sergeants hesitantly reach out to open the folder and reveal the identity of the person in question.

A picture was attached to the sheet of paper, introducing a smiley person wearing a graduation cape and hat. One of the pictures was provided by the ill-at-ease client, whose child was kidnapped not so long ago. The client carried some serious weight, so failing the mission by any means would be tragic for everyone.

"So, who is he?" one of his sergeants took an interest in the client's persona while reading information about the abducted figure.

"Politician," the captain explained, crossing arms on his chest while leaning back into his chair more, "along with that, one of the largest arms-producing and military services companies in his country, with arms sales amounting to over a billion dollars," he nodded slowly throughout his explanation, "they produce a variety of weapons systems ranging from armored vehicles to missile defense to navigation equipment," another folder, much thicker than the previous one appeared in his grasp, just to be presented in front of sergeants for review, "the largest share of arms imported to Israel, also has a portfolio ranging from helicopters to missiles to drones, so I hope you guys understand how serious this is?" his eyebrows raised in question waiting for an affirmative response from them.

"Yes, sir," they replied in unison, still paying close attention to the details written on paper with black ink in hectic handwriting.

"This is a significant operation, so be ready to deploy soon."

"Damn, this is some serious shit this time, König," the sergeant excitedly skipped near his teammate.

"Yeah," he exhaled a reply, "what if we fuck this up?" a hint of anxiety fiddled with the words coming out of his mouth.

"Don't say that!" a slap on the shoulder was hard enough to hear from the other wing of the base, "you're going to bring bad luck."

"I don't know, Hongjin, it's a rescue mission, meaning it's a life or death situation; what if-" the nervousness steamed off König, following after him like a shawl.

"Ah ah ah, pause right there," Horangi stopped in the middle of the hall, creating human traffic, earning annoyed exclamations from other people behind them, who had to walk around them but not caring enough to move aside, "exactly, life or death situation, so we don't have the right to fuck this up, good?" he raised his thumbs, reassuring his friend.

"Good, good," he received a quick reply as König noticed the collapse they'd created and tried his best to clear out the way for other soldiers by pulling Horangi to where they were headed previously.

"I'm leaving!" your yell echoed throughout the whole, what seemed like an empty house. The ruffle of your keys was silenced in the pocket as your hand grabbed the door handle, being seconds away from leaving the house when someone came running after you down the white marbled stairs from the second floor.

"Miss!" a housekeeper, who happened to be a lovely middle-aged lady, shouted loud enough for you to stop and pay attention, "you can't leave. What will I tell your parents?" she asked, scurrying to you to grab onto your arm in a state of worry.

"Susan, I will be careful, just don't say anything, and I will be back soon," you tried to pull your arm out of her firm grasp, "parents won't be home until evening. I'll make it on time," you pleaded, willing to feel the desired freedom at least for a couple of hours. A pair of concerned eyes watched you as you successfully freed your arm, "I swear, you know I would never lie to you."

The door behind you closed, and you breathed out a sigh of relief. Finally, some time alone, however, your parents were too strict about it, not letting you leave the house without someone guarding you. It has always been crazy like this. Being a child of a considerable face in the political world was a challenge on its own. Living the life of a bird in a cage was a different one, an even harder one. But everything in this life has a price you have to pay; nothing comes easy. You had to pay the cost of your freedom and independence for the sake of having whatever you wanted and never complaining about your life ever again. Your parents, who grew up similarly, never understood your will to flee from the carefree life others were praying for. But you felt a wild attraction to the life behind the imaginary bars your parents put you in forcefully. They expected you to live the same life and take their place leading the family business after they pass, which you were unsure of for now. Agreeing to this would mean you'd have to sacrifice your life for this; disagreeing, on the other hand, means you betray your parents' expectations and trust, crashing a big thing your father worked on for years to provide a light-hearted life for you and your mother.

"Watch where you're going!" you could barely understand the words coming out of the man's mouth as he screamed at you, standing in front of your car. The wheels left black marks on the road, along with screeching sounds they made in the process of leaving those marks. Your hands gripped the wheel so hard you could see your white knuckles popping out of your hands, trying to steady your racing heart. The brakes were so pressed and forced into the car beneath your foot that you could swear you almost broke them.

"I'm so sorry, are you okay?" you found enough strength, under the wave of embarrassment, to exit the car you were driving away from your house. Being so immersed in your own thoughts and worries you didn't notice the red lights but were able to stop right before the pedestrian crossing, drifting the car a little to the side from hitting the brakes too rapidly.

"Are you blind or something?" he asked, spreading his arms still in shock before shaking his head disappointedly while walking off. The sudden car horns made you jump up in your place; you just realized you created traffic behind you, again not noticing the now green lights for your lane. Feeling the second wave of embarrassment coming like a tsunami you got back into your car quickly and drove off to where no one knew about the situation you just got into.

"Are you crushing, big boy?" Horangi caught his abnormally tall friend looking through the paperwork, paying a little too much attention to the attached photo.

"What? No," he denied quickly, closing the paperwork while pushing it away from him across the table in the rest area of the base, "just wanted to go over the details quickly, you know," he avoided eye contact with his friend.

"Yeah, yeah, the details," Horangi repeated his words with a hint of suspicion, "anyways, where was she last seen?" it was a test question, which König failed to answer, making his friend giggle in reply.

"Why do we need to know that? We know who's responsible for it and where to look, so?" he said in his defense quickly.

"We do?" Horangi turned around with a glass of water in his hands, spilling it slightly from rapid movement.

"If you actually spent less time gambling with others, you'd know this," König wiped the spilled out drops of water, before pushing the same folder closer to his friend, "Captain informed me about this not so long ago while you were little busy hiding cards up your sleeve."

"I never cheat," Horangi acted offended at his statement, knowing full well he cheats in almost every game just to win; however manages to lose quicker than he could blink. His hand appeared pressed to the folder, dragging it closer to him to open it and investigate the details about the one responsible for the kidnapping.

"Please don't spill water on it," König was more worried about the documents than his partner in mission knowing the details.

"Let's see," Horangi's foot was put on top of the chair, so he could lean his elbow on his knee while looking through the papers.

"So..," he clearly looked lost, "explain," he returned the folder to König to hear the explanation. König sighed heavily before gathering his thoughts in one pile to make them make sense in his friend's head.

"So, Magnum Navy & Co. is a weapon engineering company, right?" to which Horangi nodded his head with a short mhm, "this is our client, the daughter of the CEO was kidnapped, right?" Horangi repeated the same actions after each sentence, "and here," König's finger shifted lower to point out another name on the paper, which was supposedly the evil side of this, "Sharan A.E.C."

"So what do they have to do with the girl?" Horangi asked, paying attention to König's words.

"She was taken hostage due to a failed deal Magnum and Sharan were involved in," König saw Horangi's confused eyes.

"So Magnum had to sell Sharan some toys, and they fumbled the deal?" Horangi finally took a sip of the water he poured into the glass.

"No, the third party was involved, and Magnum kind of stole the deal," König tried to explain as best as he could.

"It doesn't say anything about the third party here," Horangi opened a folder again.

"Yes, it does; I'm trying to explain it to you, but you're making it more confusing than it has to be," he snatched the folder back to make Horangi listen to him, "so the third party, who happens to be a client buying the weapons, is between these two companies, essentially making a deal with Sharan, but Magnum stepped in kind of illegally and took over the deal, making Sharan lose a lot of money because of this, and now Magnum denies everything and tries to win the court case against them, understood?" König hoped Horangi grasped onto the information he provided.

"Mhm," a slow hum from Horangi escaped in reply after a couple of seconds of deafening silence.

"All you need to know is that we have to bring her back alive," König sighed tiredly again, pointing to the photo of you.

"Oh, you finally came back, miss? I was getting nervous already," the giggly response and relief in the housekeeper's soul were replaced with sudden regret and fear of speaking up before checking who was at the door. She was greeted with your father's face that displayed suspicion as soon as he heard the words. It was enough for her to stop talking and turn around immediately, trying to run away and hide somewhere in the house, making it look like she was busy with chores.

"Susan!" he exclaimed, understanding the situation, looking at the floor disappointedly. She cursed herself while hurrying away from him, just to hear his footsteps behind her, following her to the laundry room, "open the door," he knocked on it trying to reach the woman hiding behind it. She nervously bit her lip, before opening the door and seeing his concerned face, "you came back early! Are you hungry, sir?" she walked out of the laundry room with a basket full of clothes, trying to act normal.

"I heard what you said. Where is she?" his arms folded on his chest while blocking her way out of the room.

"Who?" a surprised question in reply didn't answer his question, making him purse his lips from frustration. He absolutely hated when you left without telling him. The housekeeper read the emotion off his face, knowing she wouldn't be able to save you right now, "sir, she's an adult, not a little child anymore; you can't control her now," she said, hoping to get sympathy out of him.

"Yes, I can! And I will!" he shouted, startling the poor woman suddenly, "she has no idea what can happen. This world is crazy!". He rubbed his eyes tiredly, letting out a dramatic prolonged exhale, before reaching into his pocket to find his phone and dial your number quickly, just to earn long and tedious beeps in reply, as expected. The housekeeper saw a chance to disappear, to avoid more scolding, and took it, running up the stairs.

The calling contact of your father popped up on your phone repeatedly as you watched it disappear and appear again and again, while sipping on some drink you ordered in the bar you were sitting in. You knew you were fucked, so you were praying for Susan's well-being.

"You should probably answer your daddy's call," someone's words in a low tone coming from behind you startled you to the point you choked on your drink. You grabbed your phone to hide the screen before turning to look at the man who sat beside you on the bar stool, signaling to the bartender to fill up his glass with some alcohol.

"Nicholas," he turned to face you again, announcing his name out loud, "or Nick."

"I'm not looking for friends," you replied sharply, focusing on your own drink.

"Damn," a cackle escaped his mouth as he grabbed his glass to sip the burning liquid, "can I at least buy a lady a drink?" his intentions were clear, but you couldn't care less about what his intentions were.

"No, I'm done already," the remainings of your drink disappeared in your mouth shortly after your reply when you looked at your ringing phone one last time before hiding it in your pocket.

"Oh, so you are the owner of that Chevy Impala parked here?" his gaze fell to your car key with a car brand keychain attached to it, resting at the counter.

"Yes," you noticed a spark of joy in his eyes, like a child that saw his favorite toy.

"God damn, where did you get that baby?" he downed his drink in one go, maintaining eye contact.

"You ask a lot of questions, Nick," he scoffed at your reply, watching you grab your key and exit the bar. The chilly wind coated your whole body outside of the bar, and you were quick to regret your decision not to wear something warmer. But you were only to blame yourself right now for not checking the weather before leaving. The decision to go for a little walk along the well-lit street to air out the remainings of alcohol was made almost immediately. You almost killed a person today, and now driving while drunk? Absolutely not. However, you didn't drink that much, you had a feeling that luck wasn't on your side this day. Your father finally stopped calling after some time, leaving you alone with your thoughts again. The punishment was inevitable, so why not make your adventure a little longer, to savor the last minutes of your freedom? The middle of the bridge over a river seemed like a nice place to remember every little thing about your life and let go of the grievance and grudges you had against your overprotective father to let them flow away with the calm waves underneath you, as deep down you understood his intentions weren't bad, but it still hurt. The sound of the waves crashing against rocks was too hypnotizing, but you had to go back, because he'd send a whole police escort to find you and you didn't want to bring any attention to yourself, so with a slight slap on the bridge fence, you turned around, going back to your car. Your hands quickly disappeared into the pockets of your jackets seeking heating and protection from suddenly colder weather.

"That's a goddamn amazing car," was the first thing you heard the guy from the bar say as he noticed you coming.

"Get away from my car," you came up closer, expecting him to leave you alone, as he leaned in against the driver's door, preventing you from getting inside.

"I will if you give me a ride," he watched how angrier you got with every second, doing it on purpose.

"I will stab your eye with a key if you don't leave in a second," you squeezed your key in your hand, still inside the pocket.

"Relax, I'm joking, you psycho" he slowly moved to the side, giving your car one last glance before walking away into the dark alleyway, shortly disappearing behind a red brick building. You could say this didn't scare you, but your heart would disagree. It felt like something was wrong, but your mind convinced everything was fine. He's just a random guy, and you'll be home soon. You gripped the wheel in fear, locking every door in the car, and looked around before pulling the hood of your hoddie lower on your face, just enough for you to see the road. The blinker made a ticking sound, signaling to every other driver with blinking lights that you're about to exit the parking lot. You finally decided to answer your father's another call to let him know that you're coming back. The mom was probably home too and worried as well.

"Hello," you put him on speaker, holding the phone away from your face while steering the wheel with the other hand.

"Hello?!" you squinted at the immediate scream coming through the speakers, "how many times have I called you?!" you could tell his voice was on the verge of fracturing his throat from how hard he was screaming, probably squeezing his phone in a white-knuckle grip.

"Sorry, I didn't hear the phone," you always tried to be as calm as possible, making him even angrier with how nonchalant you were about this. There were two seconds of silence on his end, meaning he was collecting the last bits of his sanity to not combust on the spot.

"I'm waiting for you at home. Now," his calm demeanor was even eerier than when he was infuriated.

"I am coming back. I just had to run some errands, dad," you tried to bribe him by acting nicely and not letting him forget that he's still a father.

"Stay on call until I see you in front of me," he warned you so you don't hang up.

"Okay, okay," you replied quietly, pressing the gas pedal a little harder to speed up, squeezing the phone in your hand as you had to change the gear. Your eyes fell to your phone for a second to read the time before you were suddenly blinded by the car lights almost in front of you, making you swerve the wheel abruptly just to end up losing control. Your phone dropped somewhere under your feet when the car struck the left side of your Impala, sending you into a ditch as it went off the road from the collision. With a loud crash, causing an airbag to fire, the fuel system of the car shut off automatically. You slowly raised your head from the wheel to be greeted with a shattered windshield. The pieces of glass were all over your clothes, and you were glad the hood of your hoodie covered your eyes. The ringing in your ears spread around your head, pumping in the temples unpleasantly. As soon as the understanding of what just happened settled in your brain, father's voice from the phone sounded more distinctly, but you couldn't find it. You forced yourself out of the car, falling to your knees right as the door opened. The weird pumping pain in your head from the crash wasn't letting you think straight. You finally managed to find the phone under the seat with your father still on call, screaming your name along with something else.

"Dad!" you yelled out to make him listen to you, "dad I crashed the car," you cried out, feeling the tears pool in your eyes, about to spill out against your will, not understanding if they were from almost facing death or from being scared of your father's reaction to the news.

"Oh god, are you okay?!" he finally heard you, "where are you?!" you understood what you had to say, but you just couldn't form proper words to reply, only being able to breathe rapidly, finally feeling the shock spread around your body, making you freeze. Holding onto the car, you stood up from your knees, and that's when you noticed the other vehicle in the middle of the road coated with mist all around, with the headlights still on, pointed in the darkness. It seemed like no one was moving inside, but the car was still on.

"Yes, I'm alive," you managed to form a reply in the end, "I see the other car. I will check on them," you said, seeing the phone tremble in your shaking hands.

"No, don't!" he screamed again, "stay in your car and tell me where you are!"

Totally ignoring him, you took slow steps, coming up closer to the car, just to see no one in the driver's seat.

"What?" you asked yourself, confused, but your father heard your question.

"What what?!" was repeated by him immediately, "what do you see?! Tell me where you are," he asked the same questions.

"I don't know, there's no one in the car," you took a step back before looking around, trying to understand where you were, "I don't know, dad, I don't know where I am!" the panic was taking over you at this point, forcing the shake in your voice from being on the verge of tears. Not understanding the situation and the car being empty didn't immensely help.

"Get in your car! Now! And call the police!" you decided to finally obey and turned to hurry to your car. You could take two steps to your car's location before stopping right there and then in the middle of the road.

"You," you whispered to yourself, seeing the guy from the bar slowly coming up to your car, clearly waiting for you to come closer. Your mind told you to run away as fast as possible, despite the injuries, and you listened to it. He caught onto your intentions, and as soon as you took off in the other direction, he took off as well. You were close to some neighborhood full of luxurious looking houses hidden behind high fences, so knocking on someone's door for help wasn't an option. You did manage to hide around the corner on someone's property behind a bricked fence, pressing the phone to your chest, feeling the heart pumping painfully, so hard it was about to jump out.

"Dad, someone's following me," you whispered into the phone, pressing a hand to your mouth to prevent any cries from escaping and giving away your hiding location.

"Who?! What does he look like?! Have you called the police?!" he was clearly stressed as well, his voice cracking involuntarily.

"No, dad, I'm on the call with you!" you facepalmed yourself; hoping to bring some consciousness into his mind. You tried to say something else but were interrupted by an echoing whistle coming from the empty streets, which made your whole body cover itself with goosebumps in a second. Running away again was the only option, so you tried to move as quietly as you could and hide around the other corner of the same yard. As soon as you did, you bumped into someone's chest, making you stumble and fall onto your back. The phone flew away from your grasp, sliding against the smooth asphalt. A crazy smile plastered over his face as he watched you raise your face to look at him. You tried to crawl backward away from him, feeling the tears stream down your cheeks, before standing up. His eyes were locked onto yours; his gaze felt hypnotizing, making you freeze for a second before trying to run away with a quiet whimper. But before you could do so, your back bumped into something behind you, which made you turn around and be greeted by another man standing there, surprisingly identical to him. You were in a trap between two of them, and before you could think of what to do, the guy following you previously put a thick cloth over your head, squeezing it around your neck tightly, so you couldn't take it off, before pressing his hand to your mouth to muffle any noises you may make. A sharp pain in your neck forced you to grab his hand to feel a syringe between his fingers, trying to fight back. In seconds, you felt your legs go numb along with your whole body, totally losing any control your mind had over your figure and dropping to your knees. Watching you faint, the other man walked up to your phone, hearing your father crying and begging to let you go once he understood what was happening before crashing it with the heel of his boot and ending the call.

"The call just ended," your father went pale with the fear clouding his mind; he looked at your mother and wiped the escaped tear with the back of his hand, trying to redial your number.

"The person you're trying to reach is currently unavailable, please try again later," your parents silently looked at each other, shocked, after an automatic response from the operator, not knowing what to do now and waiting for any answers from the bodyguards sent looking for you. He was pacing around the room, listening to your mother's cries. Susan sat silently near your mother, trying to comfort her. She knew it was her fault but couldn't do anything about it. The phone rang, and he rushed to it, seeing the name of his guard instead of the one he wished to see the most, "what?! Did you find her?!" he hoped and prayed to hear a positive answer, but his hopes were crashed immediately.

"No, but we found the car; it's in the ditch," the bodyguard replied, "I'm sorry, sir, we're looking for her," he looked around the empty street with no other previously mentioned car in sight.

"I'm coming, wait for me there," he grabbed his own keys with a shaky voice and left, leaving your almost fainting mother with Susan. Once he arrived at the scene, he couldn't hold his emotions back. Seeing the state the car was in, made everything ten times worse. With a hand over his mouth, he hesitantly and slowly walked up to see the wrecked car bonnet and a shattered windshield. He blinked rapidly to prevent the tears from escaping, before quickly dialing another number, barely holding the phone properly in his trembling hands.

"Sir, we-" one of the bodyguards came up to him, holding something, but was quickly shushed by your father as the person he was dialing picked up.

"I need to see you, Cap. It's important," the worry and tremble in your father's voice were enough for the dialed person to understand the seriousness of the situation.

"When and where?" the person replied immediately.

"Right now, I'll send you the location," he replied and, with a quick "okay" hung up, exhaling deeply, trying to steady his voice, "what was it?" he finally acknowledged the bodyguard's presence, not picking up his gaze up from the phone, typing in the location via chat.

"Her phone," he held out a phone with a cracked screen, immediately bringing your father's attention to it, "we found it in this area not so far from here, she probably ran away from someone to that district, and from there she was kidnapped," he motioned to the area with the phone he was holding, before giving it to the father and walking away with a sorrowful look on his face. He held it gently, standing alone now, and pressed it to his chest, the same way you did seconds before disappearing. Nothing mattered more than you at the moment. The blame he felt was filling him to the brim, pushing the treacherous tears out of his eyes. He just cried to himself while the police were dealing with the crash scene and blocking the road from upcoming car traffic with yellow stripey ribbons.

"The politician is being seen at the crash accident scene right now. The details will follow shortly," your father heard a news reporter's voice coming from somewhere behind. He turned around to see a woman with a microphone rushing towards him, a cameraman with a huge camera on his shoulder was right after her.

"Oh no, not the press," his face was hidden behind the phone in his grasp. Before they could reach him with annoying questions, a couple of his bodyguards were quick to create a wall between them, preventing the news reporters from getting to him.

"What can you say about this situation, sir?!" the woman shouted out in hopes of getting any answer, pushing the mic between the men.

"No comment," the bodyguard replied first, trying to cover the camera with his hand, "you can film from safe distances. The area is open to certified workers exclusively," he explained monotonously.

"We are certified! Look, we have ID cards," she grabbed the card hanging from her neck and pushed it into his face to read the name of the channel they were sent from.

"I said no uncertified workers!!" he shouted right in her face and forcefully pushed the cameraman away to make them step back with horrified looks on their faces.

"Unfortunately, we were unable to get any details for now, but no injured passengers were registered yet; police are investigating the details of the crash, looking for a missing driver," the news reporter announced.

"Good job, boys," the twins' father praised the job they've done, watching your stressed father hide from cameras after turning off the TV mounted on the wall. They exchanged satisfied looks, sitting on the leather couch in their father's office, knowing full well that your reported missing body laid in the basement of some abandoned house deep in the woods.

"Boss, you should better wait in the car," one of the bodyguards, covering your father's face from the camera, whispered to him. He nodded quietly and quickly disappeared in a van behind tinted windows, away from everyone's vision. The only thing he could do while waiting is to watch a destroyed Chevy Impala still in the ditch, hoping you were alive and unharmed. The door to the van opened after a while, letting a person inside. As soon as your father saw the familiar face, he finally released the tears he was holding back this whole time, sobbing loudly. The captain patted his shoulder silently, trying to comfort him as best as possible. He inspected the wrecked car through the van's windshield, but couldn't see any covered bodies, and he guessed something else had happened; otherwise he wouldn't be here.

"They took her, cap," the father barely pushed out some words out of him, "they took my baby! My daughter!" this reaction broke the captain's heart into million pieces. He had never seen his friend like this before.

"Who they?" the captain repeated, trying to stay serious to not break down as well, not even wanting to imagine what he would do if this happened to his family.

"Sharan," he replied unhesitatingly, calming down his sobs, "I just know it's his sons. They were never no good," he remembered how the twins acted in the school you were also studying in. They were everyone's rivals for no reason, just trying to be the best no matter what it took them. Their father was always your father's rival on the market, also producing weapons for selling. They both elected for the politician's place, and your father won. The last straw, which made his rival go apeshit and start a real war in the end was the failed deal with Sharan's customer once he found out Magnum was now exporting the weapons to them. Moreover, the court case that was started was tarnishing Sharan's reputation in the market pretty severely, so your father was sure they dared to lay their hands on you to make Magnum dismiss an application in court by blackmailing your father with you being a hostage. They always played dirty, but this, this was overstepping the line.

"So this happened," the captain repeated the whole story to the group of people who were now responsible for bringing you back, "we need anything that will prove their culpability and make them admit to the kidnap; anything you bring will be presented in the court additionally to the already active application," the captain added in the end.

"His daughter was kidnapped, and he still worries about the court case?" Horangi summed up the situation, frowning his eyebrows in disbelief.

"Hey, it's a rich man's world. We stay out of it and do our job," cap raised his hands in the air defeatedly, "but don't judge. You should've seen the state he was in the last time," he shrugged, lighting up a cigar hanging out of his mouth between his lips.

Horangi and König just looked at each other silently, realizing that they have to do anything possible to bring you back; no different outcome is allowed.

"While we speak about it," the captain reached in the drawer to pull out yet another pale yellow colored folder containing a dossier, tossing it in front of the team, "these are the twins, the sons of Sharan," they opened the folder to meet two identical men in their middle twenties, "both named Chris, but one is Christian, and the other is Christopher."

"So they already have some criminal past?" König asked, reading the dossier. The mugshots attached showed two very similar caucasian men. Both had dark, messy hair and sly-looking squinted eyes in an ashen, almost invisible blue color.

"Yes, I had to dig for a while to find these files that their dad tried so hard to hide from promulgation," the captain explained, "so for now, we only know the location of their residence, but they aren't that stupid to bring her to the place that can be easily checked."

"So how do we get in there? I bet it's protected?" König asked immediately.

"What about a search warrant?" another teammate spoke up.

"Police did that already," captain sighed irritatedly, "guess what? Found nothing," his shoulders shrugged, announcing the expectedly failed attempt to raid the house in hopes of finding you there.

"So we have to chase them from now on blindly?" Horangi added.

"Yes, our espionage is working on it for now; I'm pretty sure they'll pay her a visit sooner or later to check up on her," the whole team listened closely to their captain speaking.

"Wake up!" you felt slight slaps on your face, pulling you out of your forced slumber, "good, you're alive! We need you alive," ice blue colored eyes were glued to your face, one of the twins was standing close to the bed you were laying on, hovering over it. As soon as the realization hit, you quickly crawled away into the corner, where the mattress ends met the walls, pressing your knees to your chest. Your vision caught the other twin leaning on the doorframe, paying close attention to you as well.

"You motherfuckers," your voice shaky from fear of their possible intentions.

"Good to know you actually remember us; I'm surprised you didn't recognize me in the bar," the much talkative twin sat down on the bed, crossing his legs in the process.

"What the fuck do you want," you hissed through your teeth, feeling your whole body shake.

"We haven't seen each other.. since what?" he frowned, turning down the corners of his mouth, "middle school?"

"So you kidnapped me to talk about school?" you grimaced as your eyelid twitched from the stress your body produced.

"Did you know what your daddy got you into? It's all his fault," his voice got lower and less approaching, turning into a whisper in a matter of seconds.

"Don't bring him into this, you stupid fuck," the anger spit out of you like venom. The action filled his already cold eyes with fury, painting them a darker shade of the same color. His hands grabbed your knees, pulling you closer to him to press your back to the hard mattress. His palm painfully squeezed your face making you look into his fierce eyes.

"Let's see how much your daddy grieves your soulless body found somewhere in the forest moat," his fingers painfully clenched around your neck, cutting off your breath; your tries to fight him back failed miserably, as he was significantly more robust. His hand tightened your wrists together, leaving whitish marks on them.

"Christian, enough!" the other brother was able to stop his crazy twin, "dad told us not to hurt her," he rolled his eyes, very much annoyed by his brother's behavior, "for now, at least."

Christopher was always known for being sage, level-headed, and more obedient. Meanwhile, unhinged Christian always did the dirty physical work. Perfect duo for significant accomplishments, but they took the wrong path fooly copying their father's way of living. Christian turned around, looking at you one last time, before rushing past his twin to the exit. Christopher's previously crossed arms fell to the sides before closing the heavy metallic door to the room. Tears streamed down your face as you turned away from the empty, windowless space to face the wall, hoping it was just a nightmare.

"Eat, don't be stupid," Christopher stood next to the bed you were laying on, facing away from him. A bowl with some edible substances was placed on the table next to you, near the other untouched plates and bags. The only thing you consumed was little sips of tap water coming from a sink in the same room, divided by a half wall. The room itself looked like a prison ward, and you wondered how many people were in here before you, as it looked like it was built specifically for hostages. A couple of days have passed, at least, it felt like it. You absolutely refused to eat anything they brought.

"I will die here, and you'll go to jail," you forced a weakened laugh out of your body. A quiet tsk left his mouth, definitely followed by an eye roll.

"Fine, I will ask Christian to force-feed you then," he shrugged in hopes you'll listen this time.

"I will stab myself with a fork before he comes," the seriousness in your tone let him know you weren't playing right now.

"Honestly, I couldn't care less if you die," he paused for a second, "but your father does, so think about him while you bleed out," was the last thing he said before leaving you alone again. He did it on purpose. You knew damn well you wouldn't pull something like that because there are people that are worrying for you, that are waiting for you, that love and want to protect you, so it would be unfair to them. There was enough time for you to think about your life, your past, and your possible future, if you even have one at this point. These people were dangerous, and you were surprised they even kept you alive for so long. No tears were able to escape your tired, half-closed eyes at this point. It felt like life is leaving your body slowly, just evaporating in thin air. The footsteps above you gradually disappeared, which means they're about to leave the house. You unintentionally learned to tell them apart by their footsteps and could tell who's coming, not even seeing their faces. They always came to check up on you at the same time; that's how you could at least understand what time it was, around the afternoon. You turned to lay on your back, seeing the plates with your peripheral vision, counting the steps in the meanwhile.

"What am I doing?" you thought to yourself. Your own atrophy surprised you. The fighting spirit was something you were always known for, and to let them break it so easily? No fucking way. The number of times you sneaked out helped you to understand the door-locking systems pretty fast, forcing your father to change the window locks in your room every time. However, it didn't stop you, and it actually helped you learn more and more techniques.

"Three.. two.. one," right at this time, you heard the last step walking out of the house. The silence draped over the place again, for the millionth time, turning to a ringing sound in your ears shortly after. You felt your heart speed up as ideas started cluttering in your mind. You forced your body up, steadying it by holding onto the wall. The food on the table you finally saw for the first time made you cover your mouth to stop the gag. You looked around the empty room for anything that could come in handy. The first thing that came to mind was to inspect the bed for any thin metal parts that might fit in the keyhole. Nothing, it was all wood. There was still hope inside of you, so with a grunt, you managed to pull the badly stained mattress off the bed frame. The last thing to do with the bed would be to move it away and explore the corner; no one has ever cleaned that place, so if someone stayed here before, they could've lost something. And you were right. As soon as you moved it, there was a bobby pin. You picked it up, squeezing it in your hand, not believing your luck right now, and cursing yourself for not doing it earlier. All you could hear right now was your heartbeat thumping so hard the beat transferred to your temples. The sudden blood rush and adrenaline pump felt hot on your face. This seemed like your only option to escape, so you hurried to the metal door, falling to your knees to be at the same level as the keyhole. You bent the pin at a nineties degree, to create an L shape with it, removing the rubber tip with your teeth beforehand. This was the end that you sticked into the lock to pick it. The flat end was pushed into the top of the lock and then bent to use the bent end of the pin to disengage the pins in the lock. This was the moment you remembered you need something else to use as a tension lever.

"Fuck," you huffed out before rushing back to the table and wiping the fork, previously emerged into some type of porridge, with the blanket, they gave you previously, on the floor. With the heel of your boot, you bent the fork spikes at a needed angle to be able to actually turn the lock once you've picked it. The lever was soon pushed counterclockwise to apply tension, and you knew you didn't need to use a lot of force, so this allowed you to lift each individual pin in the lock pretty fast. You fumbled with the pins for a while, feeling each one with your pick, counting them in the process.

"Five.. six.." most locks have five or six pins, so it was easy; it just takes time to put them all in place on the barrel. You grabbed the end of the tension lever and turned it like a key. The clicking sound from the door let you know it was unlocked. The chills went from your head to your toes in excitement mixed with anxiety. Your shaky hand turned the doorknob, pushing the door open. You stayed on your knees, breathing heavily, for like two seconds, before quietly getting up and peeking from behind it into the dark, cold hallway that led to stairs. You listened closely, making sure the house was actually empty before taking cautious steps up the stairs to meet another door that was your only way out of the basement. You grabbed the doorknob, and with prayers, in your head, you twisted it. Luck was on your side; they didn't lock this one. The door opened slowly, revealing a house that seemed like it was under construction; some of the stuff was covered with dust, as well as all the furniture wrapped with huge pieces of plastic to protect it from erosion. With caution, you stepped out into the living room, squinting from the daylight sneaking through the big windows and hurting your eyes. No one was inside besides you, so you quickly found your way to the entrance, which was obviously locked. There was no time or will to play with another lock, so escaping through the window would be less noticeable, as it would also win you some time once they come back and see that you disappeared. An unlocked front door would give it away too quickly. The window was way easier to open, as it didn't have any complex locks, so in a matter of seconds, it was unlatched, and your feet landed on the ground under it. You were clever enough to close it back. The forest around you welcomed you with silence and occasional birds chirping. The anxiety messed with you once again, as you had no idea where you were and where to go, with acres of trees all around you. Following the only pathway leading to the house in the shape of two lines from the car's tires would be a bad idea as they might come back, so it was decided to run through the woods. Not eating for a couple of days very soon made you regret it, as your body was giving up pretty fast. You had to grab onto the trees for support, but it wouldn't stop you. By and by you were getting away from your previous location, diving deeper into the woods. Each time you stopped, you just listened, listened in case they came back and looked for you, but every time it was quiet, which gave you just enough hope and incitation to move forward. At some point, you felt your legs weaken from the moving, so you sat down, hiding behind a tree with your back pressed to it. Your face fell in your hands to calm down a little, feeling your lungs burn with pain. Suddenly you heard a car rushing down the road, not so far from you. You looked up and saw a vehicle that just flashed before your eyes. It was the forest freeway. You sighed happily, as now it's way easier to find help. At least someone would stop to a human begging on the road, right? So you stood up, looking around again and moving forward, coming closer with each step you took. Shortly after you appeared on the road, you were lucky to see two cars. However, you were unlucky enough for them to shoot past, not even thinking about stopping to check up on you. Following the road to wherever they were headed was the only option.

"Fuck, I left my gun in the house," Christian remembered suddenly, looking through the pockets of his long jacket while his brother was mid-driving back home.

"Can you do anything correctly?" Christopher rolled his eyes, taking a sharp turn around right in the middle of the road, leaving prominent black marks on the asphalt.

"I'll be quick," Christian winked at his brother as he exited the car his twin parked near the house. With a heavy sigh, he looked around the living room for the previously forgotten gun when his gaze fell on the door leading to the basement that, for some reason, wasn't fully closed. Christopher saw his brother walk out of the house in a hurry signaling for him to start the car, meanwhile putting the gun into the inside pocket of his coat.

"This bitch got out, drive!" his voice growled in an anger. Christopher pursed his lips in a thin line, maneuvering the car following the pathway away from the house.

"How the fuck did she get out?" Christopher tried to understand where they fucked up and where to look for you.

"Do I look like a fucking Sherlock?" Christian barked back, "I don't know. I noticed the door to the basement was opened and thought you forgot to close it, so I went to check and saw that the door to where she was," the emphasis fell on the last words, "was also fucking open! And she's gone!" he explained as best as he could, while Christopher pressed the gas pedal into the floor, almost flying through the woods.

"Look, look," Christian tapped his twin on the shoulder, pointing at someone plodding along the road. As soon as they flew past the person, making sure it was the one they were looking for, he slammed the brakes, and the jeep's tires scraped the road with squeaky sounds a little ahead. They exchanged glances after inspecting the swaying figure through the rearview mirror.

The tiredness spread throughout your body twice as fast from walking. There was no will anymore, but giving up so easily wasn't in your nature. You shuffled your feet, almost collapsing on the same road when your hearing picked up a car coming from behind again. A laugh was the only reasonable reaction to this ridiculous situation; people didn't stop to at least ask if you needed help just judging by your beaten-up appearance. What a world we live in. Your arm appeared in the air again, signaling for the vehicle to stop while you kept walking. There was no hope, but trying wouldn't hurt. And what a miracle; the jeep screechingly stopped a little ahead of you. Reliance filled your soul as a happy whimper escaped your mouth, and you genuinely smiled to yourself; for the first time since the day you disappeared. You limped your way closer to the car that was waiting for you when the door to the passenger's seat opened, and your smile dropped immediately, forcing you to freeze in place. The same set of crazy eyes was eyeing you down like a predator hunting his prey. He slammed the door furiously, stepping out of the vehicle.

"And we wondered where you went," the familiar voice pierced your hearing. You wished it was a dream, more like a nightmare, but it wasn't. And just like that, all the hopes shattered in a second. As soon as he took a step forward to you, you turned around and, yelling for help, tried to hobble your way out of there, which just looked pathetic from his point of view. Before you could take at least a proper step, everything went black, and your haggard body fell to the ground. The severe knock on your head with something metallic will definitely hurt when you wake up.

"I'll chain her to the fucking bed," Christian said, holding your tied body under the armpits whilst Christopher held you under your knees, so they could hide you in the trunk of their jeep.

"Let's not tell dad about this," Christopher glanced at his brother, shaking the dust residue from the dirty trunk off his hands as he slammed it shut. They quickly returned to the car to get back and see what they could do about the house situation and how to lock you in better. Chaining you to something didn't seem like such a crazy idea.

"What the fuck is he doing here?" Christopher asked out loud, seeing a policeman signaling for them to pull off the road, halfway back to the house.

"Let me talk to him," Christian said quickly, greeting the policeman with a nod.

"No, you don't know how to properly talk to people, stay silent," Christopher warned his brother, rolling down the window halfway for an upcoming conversation.

"Good afternoon, sir!" Christian disobeyed his brother's command. He leaned closer to the driver's window, holding onto the wheel for support, "any problems, officer?" he smiled cockily, seeing his twin's fierce look glued to him out of the corner of his eye.

"Good afternoon," the policeman fixed his cap, "any ideas why I stopped you?" he raised his eyebrows at them, waiting for any answers.

"Uhh.." Christian bit the inside of his cheek, glancing at his brother, "no?" a short pause followed, "oh wait, I know; we missed a stop sign, didn't we?" he chuckled, shaking his head.

"Christian," Christopher looked at his brother in disbelief, "what stop sign on a fucking freeway in a middle of a forest?" he hissed through his teeth.

"Are you boys okay?" the policeman asked, placing his hands on the straps of his vest.

"Yeah, I'm sorry, my brother doesn't feel very good right now," Christopher tried to save the situation in hopes of averting suspicion, pushing his brother back in his seat.

"Is that Ketaset on the backseat?" he interrupted their arguing, inspecting the back seats. They both turned around to look at the bottle with transparent liquid which was simply forgotten there by Christian, "what do you need ketamine in your car for?" the policeman squinted his eyes at them.

"We have a.." Christian spoke first, trying to think of an excuse regarding the anesthetic drug in their car, "a sick dog? We are veterinarians, actually." Christopher closed his eyes slowly, trying to keep calm, while his brother carried the unbelievable bullshit.

"Step out of the car, please," the policeman stepped back, waiting for them to follow the instructions. They side-eyed each other and slowly got out of the car. The policeman put on gloves, and with a quick motion, the bottle was in his hands as he shook it in front of their faces.

"Open the trunk," the policeman ordered as he put the bottle in the transparent zip-lock baggie. Twins looked at each other silently, thinking of what to do.

"But having Ketaset is not illegal? It's used in veterinary," Christian spread his arms, "what are you inspecting the car for?"

"Show me the medical certificates then," the policeman argued back, "if you have a sedative drug in your car for your dog, then you should have a vet pass or something?" to what he received silence in reply, "right, don't resist and open the trunk, c'mon, son," the policeman slapped the trunk, waiting for it to be opened for an inspection.

"Okay, fine," Christian threw his hands in the air defeatedly, coming up closer to the back of the car, "no need for arguing." He tried to win some time for his brother to think of something. However Christopher knew there was no chance at this point. He facepalmed himself mentally, promising not to let his twin talk ever again if they even get out of this now. Christian came up close to the trunk, giving his brother one last glance before reaching into the inside pocket of his jacket.

"I need to find the key," he searched through the pockets, looking for the key, "my pop's old jeep, this trunk is a challenge to open," he chuckled finally finding what he was looking for. But instead of pulling out a key, a gun appeared in his grip. Before the policeman could react, the bullet flew right through his head, forcing his body to collapse immediately, like a house of cards from the slightest blow of air.

"Christian!" Christopher yelled out as he jumped up in his place at the suddenness. The bang was so loud, echoing through the forest, that it startled the crows sitting on top of the trees. With loud croaking which later turned into a dead silence, the birds flew away, leaving two guys standing there alone. Christopher rushed to his brother, and the palm of his hand slapped the back of his twin's head as hard as it could, receiving an offended ouch in return.

"What was I supposed to do?!" his yell shifted through the trees and returned with a doubling effect.

"Do you understand that we now have two bodies on our hands?!" Christopher ruffled his hair with both hands, not knowing what to do and how to report this to their father, "the last thing we needed right now is a dead fucking cop." A sudden wood creak coming from somewhere between the trees made him turn his head, "did you hear that?" he listened cautiously in hopes of hearing it again while his twin was rubbing his forehead with the gun, looking at the deceased body.

"Maybe a bird?" Christian asked quietly, "who cares, Chris? Let's put him in the car and get out of here before someone comes," Christian pushed the weapon behind the waistband of his pants so that he could pick another body up, "are you going to help me or just stand there?"

Christopher looked around one last time before rolling his jacket's sleeves to help his brother out. With a couple of heavy groans, they fit the cop's body into the backseat of their car and covered it with some cloth that was laying under the seat uselessly. They slammed the doors loudly and took off, drifting the car a little to the house's destination.

"Did you get that?" König whispered to Horangi as they raised their heads from where the little hill they layed on under the camo.

"Yes," Horangi whispered back wide-eyed and hid a camera that was recording the whole time, inside of his vest, before turning his radio on to reach other members, "they're moving south. Watch them," they both followed the car with their eyes until it disappeared, "we'll be behind, but will meet you guys there, how copy?"

"Clear," the voice from the intercom replied almost immediately, "by the way, was there shooting? Are you guys okay?"

"Yes," König replied first, "our cover K.I.A. though, we think they're headed to where our target is now, out!" On that note, they both got up quickly, folding the camo cloth they laid under and pulling off the similar fabric of their own hidden jeep they drove here. A trap they set with a policeman was successful; however, it did cost one person's life. No one wanted anyone to die, but not everything we want in this life goes according to the plan we thought was perfect. Sometimes we must sacrifice something to reach our goals, no matter how much it hurts or what it takes. It took the team a couple of days to hunt the twins down with useless following back and forth all around the town. König and Horangi had to spend a night taking turns lurking from their car parked near a bar where twins would drink and have fun shamelessly. They followed their captain's order and collected everything they could about them to dispatch it all forward as they had planned beforehand. And just recently, they managed to follow them to the needed location, with a bit of help from local police, to make sure they didn't run away.

"Boys, we found them," one of the teammates spoke through the radio as they successfully located the house.

"We'll be there soon. We're staying on their tail," König replied. Horangi fixed his sunglasses and sped up just a little, seeing the jeep not so far from them but far enough not to be suspicious.

"We'll have to hide the jeep again and walk by feet to the house, though," Horangi said, tapping his fingers on the wheel nervously.

"Exactly," König nodded, "so watch closely."

"Chris, let's hide the cop first," Christopher exited the car hurriedly, seeing his brother leave the car as well.

"We're watching them. They're about to hide the body right now," König heard through the radio as they were speeding between the trees now, being led by their teammates to the location.

"Repeat what body?" König said in the radio attached to his vest below his chin.

"The cop, mate," the soldier replied, "no track of the girl, out." König and Horangi finally reached their destination and stopped not so far away from each other behind the trees. They both pointed their rifles at the house, inspecting the quick movements in the windows through the scopes.

"Cover us. We're going inside. How copy?" König whispered to other teammates.

"Affirmative," the radio turned off with a sizzling sound. König signaled for Horangi to move from the other side giving them more coverage in case of flight.

"Where the hell do we hide it?" came through the opened windows as both soldiers made their way to the house and hid around the corners. Horangi peeked in through the same window, seeing the twins standing near the cop's body on the floor.

"I don't know; you killed him you take care of this!" one of them argued back. Horangi's eyes searched through the spacey room hoping of finding anything related to you. At the same moment, his radio produced a static sound, making twins turn their heads rapidly to the window, noticing Horangi's head peeking out.

"Fuck!" they both yelled in unison and fled in different directions.

"Special Forces!" König and Horangi screamed as Horangi jumped into the house through the same window, completely destroying the tender glass. Meanwhile König rushed through the door, knocking it down with his shoulder.

"Look for the target. I'll take them!" Horangi pushed his teammate back and ran up the stairs. One of the twins somehow disappeared in thin air, probably a secret way through the house or something. But they didn't actually need these guys, as they had enough evidence. However, from what it seemed like and judging by loud grunting and thuds, Horangi was fighting one of them on the second floor. König looked around the house quickly, taking down every door he could, holding his gun up all the time. The entrance to the basement was the last one. The doorknob, along with the lock, was quickly destroyed by his foot. Quick steps down the stairs and he reached the room where you used to be, seeing it all messed up. Worry filled his heart as he wondered what happened here and if you were even alive. Failing to find you here, he rushed back outside.

"The target's not here. We fucked up!" König yelled into the radio, trying to find his teammates in the woods when suddenly he heard muffled screams coming from somewhere around him. His eyebrows furrowed under his mask in question as his head turned around rapidly, trying to understand where the sounds were coming from. As soon as his vision caught the twin's jeep moving side to side slightly, he came up closer to it.

"What the hell?" once he realized that the pleadings for help were coming from the trunk, the confusion was wiped from his face. The tries to open the trunk bare handed failed, so he pointed his rifle's muzzle at the lock, and with a loud bang, the trunk was forced to open. His rifle was being let go, still attached to his vest, just dangling on the side. As soon as the trunk revealed the horrified look on you face, he exhaled at ease as his hand landed on his heart.

"Oh my god, you're alive," he said, trying to pull you out of the trunk, seeing the confused face of yours, "target located!" he announced quickly via radio, undoing the knot keeping your wrists together.

"Who are you?!" you let out a discursive question, removing the fabric gag from your mouth.

"Special Forces, my name is-" his words were interrupted by a loud bang, which made him fall to his knees, as it grazed his arm while he was almost done undoing the knot on your ankles. As he crouched down, one of the twins was revealed, hiding behind the corner of the house with a smoking gun in his hands.

"Go!" he growled, holding onto his wounded bicep as he shielded you from the shooter. You crawled backward, skirring away while hiding behind the car. König turned around with his own rifle in his grip, but the shooter was nowhere to be in sight anymore. The other teammates scattered around the forest for more coverage at their captain's command.

"Horangi, are you alive?" König asked, expecting a positive answer but receiving silence in reply. Little did he know, his teammate was kind of busy at the moment, being strangled by the other twin. König cursed as he lost you out of sight, but he quickly noticed your footprints in the dirt leading somewhere to the depth of the forest, so he blindly followed them. Being on the run again wasn't as easy as it seemed after being knocked out. The palm of your hand was pressed onto the previously injured spot on your head as you made your way through the woods, not even watching the path in front of you, just hoping it would lead you out of this hell. Your running ended at the edge of a massive cliff, almost falling off, as your body collapsed on the verge of it. Miles of trees and thickets were expanded before you, letting you know there was no way to escape.

"You're dying here!" the voice coming from behind you made you turn around. Christopher was standing there with a gun pointed at you.

"No, please," he almost didn't hear your whimper. In a matter of seconds, being alive felt so precious. Your whole life flashed before your eyes, and you couldn't believe this is how it ends. The wish to tell your parents you love them was the only thing you wanted at the moment. The tears escaped your tightly pressed eyelids from fear, against your will, and your body recoiled at the loud, sibilant bang. The time slowed suddenly as the sharp ringing noise pierced your hearing. The silence once again draped the forest around you, and you opened your eyes slowly; with your head tilted downward, your eyes peered upward from beneath your eyebrows.

"And they said I couldn't be a sniper," König scoffed, watching you through the scope once he shot the twin down from a safe distance. Jabbing pain spread in your lungs and a speeding heart interfered with your understanding of the situation when you saw the twin on the ground. The massive, quickly-moving, through the tree, figure with a cloth over his head scared you a little, but you remembered it was him who found you in the trunk. It still wasn't a good enough reason to trust him, so as soon as you got on your feet to try to run again, he threw his hands in the air, slowing down his steps.

"Woah, woah, don't run!" he tried to fence you off with his hands, so you have nowhere to go.

"Who are you? What do you want?" you acted like a panic-stricken animal in the cage, flinging to the sides away from him.

"Special Forces! My name is König. This is a rescue mission," he explained, seeing your suspicious squint.

"Who?" you asked quickly, keeping a distance between you two.

"What who?" he asked confused.

"Who sent you?" you finished your question.

"Your father! CEO of Magnum Navy!" he remembered the details written in the dossier. Him telling your full name and some facts about you afterwards helped to build trust, and you relaxed, letting out a sudden flow of bottled-up emotions all at once. You couldn't keep your tears back anymore; all of this was so overwhelming and unfair. The fact that your family was looking for you just made everything worse; you realized how much they loved you and how much you loved them, immediately feeling embarrassed for misbehaving previously. The first thing you wanted to do when you come back home is to hug them tightly and tell them how much you love them at least a thousand times. Your loud sobs and tears streaming down your cheeks left the soldier in front of you dumbfounded. He side-eyed the vicinity around him, not knowing what to do, as he rubbed the back of his neck. He wasn't sure what exactly caused this reaction, so he just awkwardly stood there, letting out minor occasional coughs.

"Umm.." he finally got the courage to speak up, as you wiped the tears with the back of your hands, "we're not here to harm you; we need to bring you back," he thought he was the reason to your breakdown, so he tried his best to comfort you as he's used to people being scared or distrusted of him at first.

"Sorry for this," you wept the words out, looking at the sky to dry your bawling eyes.

"König?" the radio suddenly turned on, letting out a dramatic scream.

"Horangi?" König quickly responded, pleased to hear his alive friend.

"König!" his friend repeated cheerfully, "where are you?"

"We're not that far away, coming back now!" he finished his line and looked at you. You understood that you had to follow him from now on, so you rushed to him as he led you back through the woods. There was no trace of the twins now. It's like they had vanished. The decision to let the local police deal with the policeman's body was made by the captain, as the team had a more important job now.

König hasn't left your side since then. Wherever you went, he was near, keeping an eye on you. How careful he was with words and everything made you feel protected; not controlled, but truly protected, and this had never happened before. He would glance at you through the rearview mirror occasionally. You acted like you didn't notice this, with your vision pointed at the road in front of you. The thought that you will see your family soon warmed your heart, so you finally felt at peace. The distance from your hometown to where you actually ended up locked up was farther than you expected. König drove most of the time, throwing quick glances at your sleeping figure on the backseat of their jeep. If they had to stop to fill the tank, he'd stay in the car with you. Just watching you sleep, but then turning away sometimes, as he felt it was too creepy and you'd be startled if you suddenly woke up.

"What if she's hungry or needs to use the bathroom?" Horangi kept insisting on waking you up at yet another gas station.

"Fine," König sighed and got back in the car, which he used as a backrest outside, to let his legs stretch a little after driving for God knows how long. His elbow rested on the driver's seat as he leaned between the front seats to reach you. His hand went to your leg first, then stopped itself as he thought it would be weird, so he slightly shook your shoulder. Your body jerked at the sudden touch, and the speed your head flew up scared him, so he flinched his hand away quickly, "sorry, we thought you may need something. We're at the gas station right now."

"Oh," your tensed body relaxed at the sight of König in front of you, "uh, sure," you got up from the seat back into the sitting position and glanced over at the gas pumps around you. The jacket over the hoodie did a great job at keeping your body warm, so you wrapped yourself up even tighter to avoid the chilly wind getting under your clothes outside of the heated-up car. Gas stations wrapped in the embrace of the night are always an otherworldly, even therapeutic experience. A big blue neon "24/7" sign hanging over the entrance to the little store on the same station greeted you while flickering rapidly, along with the buzzing sound it was making. The noises blended in with the crickets all around, and some birds far away ideally. The crescent moon pattern high up in the sky was the last thing that your vision caught as you disappeared behind the automatic doors to the shop.

"Good evening, miss," a middle-aged man of short stature and a nicely gelled-down gray hairstyle beamed at your silent presence.

"Good evening," you returned with a light nod as you made your way between the tall, full-of-stuff store shelves, hiding from the owner's gaze almost immediately. The song playing through the speaker from somewhere in the ceiling corner was loud enough to cover the buzzing sign sound and for you to start humming to the soft melody. Your hearing picked up a sudden ding sound coming from the entrance, meaning someone walked in, but because the shelves were blocking your vision, you could only wonder if it was Horangi or König paying for the fuel and whatever you wanted to get.

"Have you seen this girl, old man?" an unfamiliar voice made you look up from the instant noodles preparing instructions written on the side of a plastic cup in your grasp.

The owner picked up a photo that was slid across the counter by a hand with a cigarette between the fingers, studying it closely. He recognized the person in the picture because he had seen the same person two minutes ago walking into his shop. Three tall men of menacing appearance wearing hoods to hide their faces made him suspect something was wrong, so with a hesitation, he shook his head no and returned the photo, hoping you wouldn't walk back out right now.

"Are you sure?" the one that spoke previously slowly took a puff and blew the smoke in the man's, behind the counter, face. Dread was written all over his face as a pair of squinted eyes were glued to him, "fine then."

The urge to get out was stronger than the gurgling sound your stomach produced from the hunger. So you decided to hide your face under the hood and sneak past them to let the boys know about this. You took quick but quiet steps back, keeping an eye on the men from the end of the store, and made your back bump into the standing rack with snacks behind you, making it fall with a loud bang and falling over it as well.

"Fuck!" a stupidly loud whisper from you was heard by everyone in the store, forcing them to turn their heads to where the sound came from behind the shelves. The man in the middle motioned to the other guy to check what was happening back there with a quick head tilt. The store owner jerked to follow but was quickly stopped by a gun pointed at him from the other side of the counter.

"Stay in your place," the man with the gun commanded in a low voice, putting out the cigarette on the counter and leaving an ashy gray mess under a wrinkled cig.

"What is taking her so long?" König asked out loud while holding the gas pump nozzle, filling up the tank.

"Maybe she's in the bathroom?" Horangi shrugged in reply, seeing König glance at him over the shoulder, "give her some time, man." König didn't reply to that, just kept worrying silently, listening to the gas pump hum as it transferred the fuel to the car.

The loud, squeaky steps of the guy heading to the back of the store were getting closer, so you crawled to the nearest door in the corner near a retail shelving full of household items, hoping the door would lead to the back exit. You quickly grabbed the door handle to find out it was closed and, with a quiet curse, hid behind the closest rack of candies. Right at this moment, you saw a foot step out and a man appearing inspecting the tipped-over rack.

"There's nothing, boss," his voice rang through the store along with some Lady Gaga song that was playing through the speakers quietly. A sigh of relief escaped your mouth as you moved lengthwise the shelves, almost like playing hide-n-seek with them.

"What are you doing here?" was the first thing the third guy asked as he grabbed you by the collar of your jacket from behind, "shoplifting is bad." Your head lowered to hide your face from him, trying to devise an excuse and get out of his grip.

"No way," he laughed as soon as he grabbed you by your face, "boss! It's the chick we've been looking for!" he happily exclaimed as he pushed you out to the center of the store by your neck for his boss to see. The boss's eyes shifted from you to the owner of the store, who looked just as scared as you, still keeping him at gunpoint, while removing the safety with a quick click sound, "and you lied to me for what?", the boss picked up the photo to compare the person on it and the person in front of him.

"Wait, I don't know who she is! I swear," the owner spread his arms, disorderly looking at all the men. All three blocked your vision from seeing guys outside to signal that you needed help, wishing for them to finally come inside to pay for the goddamn petrol.

"We're leaving, and you act as you have never seen us," their boss warned the owner, "and you are coming with us, doll," he raised his eyebrows at you. Out of the corner of his eye, the boss noticed the owner's hand slowly reach under the counter to press the emergency button. He didn't hesitate and, looking you in the eyes, pulled the trigger, making your whole body recoil at the sound. He's staring at you but looking straight through you like there was no soul or life in him.

"What is happening there?" Horangi tapped König's shoulder as König leaned on the car again, resting his head on the roof and his arms on his chest.

"What?" he slowly raised his head and looked where his friend was looking. It was hard to understand the situation, as the doors were the only transparent thing and still blocked by someone standing. Meanwhile the windows were frosted you could still see the outline of the person with his arm reached out full length. As soon as a loud bang ruined the night silence, they both jumped up from the suddenness, being fully alert now.

"Oh no, she's still in there!" König exclaimed and rushed to the entrance. Not even waiting for the door to open, he rammed through it, breaking the glass into million pieces and pushing over the man with his shoulder that stood the closest to the exit. The man flew forward, hitting his head so hard on the shelf he got knocked out immediately.

"What the fuck is this?" the boss got startled by the enormous masked man who had just forced himself into the shop. König saw you standing, being held by the man from behind, then quickly noticed the gun in the hand of the other one and not letting him think about what to do, he charged at the shooter, wrapping his arms around his waist tightly, just to tumble him over the counter and end up behind it together. Horangi rushing to the store with two guns in his hands meanwhile screaming "Special Forces" brought you out of the frozen state in a second. Your elbow sharply stabbed the man behind in his crotch so that you could get out of his grip, and with the same elbow, you struck him in the nose, making him stumble back. The knocked-out guy woke up at the exact moment Horangi ran into the store and, without hesitation, threw himself onto him. You barely got out of the tight grip which would definitely leave a bruised mark, unintentionally knocking over everything at the counter with your arms. He pulled you by your jacket back and threw your body between the shelves, making all the products end up on the floor. Running out of the store wasn't an option right now, but you remembered seeing pipe wrenchers in the household section of the shop. Your feet slipped on the cat food packs spread all over the floor while running away, but you managed to make your way to the back of the store again and grab the first heavy thing you noticed. A wrench wrapped with your fingers around it flew through the air in hopes of hitting the follower behind you. He was still limping, holding onto his crotch from previous contact, and was quick enough to avoid your attack by catching your wrist in the process. Before he could proceed and hurt you again, an arm was wrapped around his neck into a headlock, which made you back away and quickly slide down the wall, still holding onto the wrench for dear life. The familiar pair of widened eyes that usually looked at you softly and with kindness were now filled with rage and nothing else but madness. The pupils in his eyes almost vanished in the depth of his irises, giving König that crazy look as you caught a glimpse of his gaze on you. In a matter of seconds, he easily lifted the much thinner man up and broke his back by landing him on his knee. He pushed the deadweight off him like it was nothing, breathing heavily. The weird mix of feelings flooded your mind, watching this scene happen in front of your eyes. It was too shameful to admit you liked that someone protected you so much, to the point they didn't hesitate to kill a person just for your safety. You looked up at his tall figure now standing over you.

"Let's go," he reached his hand to pick you up. By grabbing it, you just noticed how ridiculously big his hands actually were. He didn't let go of your hand, leading you out by holding it tightly. As soon as you two were close to the entrance, he turned around rapidly and scooped you into his embrace, covering your head with his head and hands while pushing you back a little between the shelves again. You could hear gunshots coming from behind him, but luckily he had a bulletproof vest on. The bullets that were quick enough got stuck in the same vest.

"Stay here," he made you look at him by forcing your face up, making sure you heard him. His hand reached to the holster attached to his thigh and pulled out a gun. He moved closer to see the shooter, that waited for him to peek out, and König's head hid from the bullets behind the rack again. He blindly pushed a couple of bullets out as well, not even knowing where he was aiming. A sudden grunt and a thud from the shooter let him know he was successful in injuring him, and peeked out carefully. The previously beaten-up by him boss was laying on the floor, holding onto his shoulder, while cursing him out loudly. König's peripheral vision caught Horangi trying to reach his gun on the floor, as the man was strangling him with his forearm. König quickly grabbed a nearby standing single-sided shelf just for it to end up destroyed in contact with the man's head, knocking him out again. You wondered how strong your savior is; he was throwing everything around with ease, including alive men. He ran back to you and, without a previous warning, grabbed you and threw you over his shoulder. You could only see the boss of that gang scream something in the walkie-talkie as he watched you all three run back to the car. The slammed door in front of your face blocked your vision from the destroyed store as you were thrown into the backseat.

"He just called someone!" you let the guys know quickly so they're aware.

"Then we might have company soon," Horangi replied as he hopped in the passenger's seat before König got in. Without any hesitation, König revved up the engine and took off with a rapid turn away from the gas station.

"We might be tailed. How copy?" Horangi spoke into his walkie-talkie, watching the road while König pushed the gas pedal all the way to the floor. The highway was the perfect place for a getaway, so that's where you all were headed now. With a quick turn from the exit, the wide road greeted your speeding car. The day was breaking at this point, so seeing other cars wasn't a struggle; however there were just a few of them, surprisingly. König's eyes shifted quickly between the road, the rearview, and a side view mirror.

"Affirmative. Where are you now?" a static voice replied.

"National highway, heading to the north," Horangi replied, studying the highway signs on the way.

"Roger that, stay straight and head to the roundabout, take the second exit, and you'll be off the highway after Route 76," the man explained, "I repeat; after a Route 76 there's a safe house down the road on the right side. Let me know when you get there, lay quiet and wait for us. How copy?"

"Rog," Horangi turned off the intercom after a short reply and looked at König, whose hands turned white from gripping the wheel so hard.

"We got a tail," König announced, taking his eyes off the rearview mirror to focus on the road. You turned around to look and saw a jeep with the same two guys from the store not so far away. A couple of cars were in the way, so they couldn't reach your car.

"What do we do?" you leaned in front, between the seats.

"You stay down," Horangi said, before glancing at your peeking-out head, while loading his gun. König was passing by other cars ahead of the tail, lengthways of the highway. The followers weren't that far behind, quickly catching up with your vehicle. The jeep you were in was almost flying up the road due to the speed König was forcing, not taking his foot off the gas pedal. Suddenly the rear jeep window shattered from the force of bullets flying through it, which made you duck down immediately.

"Fuck!" Horangi yelled out, hiding his head between his arms, before turning around to see the damage, "my fucking jeep, you asshole!"

"One here!" König growled as a similar car lined up with them, and he saw a man aiming at him with his gun. Horangi pointed his gun quickly and before the man could start the fire, Horangi shot first, making König lean back into the driver's seat to omit the bullets. The car swerved on the road slowing down a little to not get crushed, letting your car get ahead of them.

"Not another window, man!" Horangi got upset with another shattered window.

"This side!" you yelled out to make Horangi turn. As soon as you saw the driver your heart dropped to your stomach. One of the twins, who was driving beamed with a crazy smile at you. They found you, and you realized that the guys in the shop were their mercenaries, hunting for your soul. Right now, you thought this was the end, but the guys didn't think so. Horangi pulled a rifle out of nowhere and damaged the twin's car pretty badly, leaving bullet imprints in the hood, the side door and also shattering the side window. They slowed down a little, making your car first in line again.

"Hold the wheel!" König screamed at Horangi while pulling out his gun. He got halfway out of the window, aiming at the jeep's wheels next to your car. As soon as the bullets penetrated the tires, the car started swerving uncontrollably, hitting the side cement road separator along the highway and ending up on the oncoming road, just to crash into the truck coming full force. He quickly got back to steering, high-fiving his friend in the process with a little chuckle. The fact that there were almost no other cars let the tails reach your car again.

"Get the Greta," König said seriously, looking at the twins' jeep behind, with a rasp in his voice.

"The Greta?" Horangi returned with disbelief plastered all over his voice.

"The Greta," König repeated quickly.

"What's the Greta?" you raised your head worryingly, hearing their conversation.

"Move aside, princess," Horangi crawled out of his seat to end up on the backseats with you. Excitement steamed off him as he reached underneath the seats to pull out a long grey metal case. With a click, it opened to reveal a rocket launcher, "this is the Greta," you could swear he had heart eyes at this exact moment as he gently took it out of the case to insert a projectile at the breech of the tube, and positioned himself that way he could aim it at the car behind, setting the launcher on his shoulder.

"Cover your ears," he hummed as he aimed at the needed car focusing on it with one eye closed. The spark ignited a slow-burning material in the fuze, and in about four seconds, the delay material burned all the way through, igniting the material in the detonator and as the gasses escaped the nozzle at a high velocity, it triggered the rocket to launch, so it flew out the tube with force so strong it made Horangi's body recoil. The last thing you saw before the projectile landed in the engine of the car was the twin's eyes. This was the first time you could see genuine fear in their eyes. And in a matter of seconds, their jeep exploded with a flashing explosion, making it tumble over and hit another jeep behind them.

"Two birds, one stone," Horangi exclaimed excitedly, hiding the launcher quickly.

"Woohoo!" König yelled out happily as well, seeing the needed roundabout you all almost approached.

"Why the fuck do you own a bazooka?!" you yelled out, not hearing yourself as you still had your ears covered with the sleeves of your jacket. Horangi didn't say anything, just winked at you with a tongue click in reply before he could crawl back into his seat and pat his friend's shoulder excitedly. Your head turned around once again to see the burning cars on their roofs as you got further and further away from them.

"This is the safe house?" Horangi looked over the house in front of them. A lovely cottage house that looked like it belonged to an old couple with a little garden on the side and a pretty wooden white fence. The neighbors' house was visible but pretty far away. It was some kind of a village, a perfect place to hide.

"I guess, I mean the coordinates are the same," König said as he leaned closer to the passenger's side window to look at the house. You all exited the wrecked car which was now parked near the fence.

"Are you okay?" König touched your arm softly as he noticed a worried look on your face when you were examining the house in front of you.

"Yeah, yeah," you replied, looking at him. The same eyes as previously, the kind ones. The softness of his gaze was inexplicable, unlike others, "actually, no," you said and rubbed your forehead with the back of your hand. "I'm so tired of this. I don't think I can take another encounter like that."

"Hey, I'm here to protect you," he said quickly and stepped a little closer, "I mean we, we are here to protect you, and soon you'll be home," he hoped you wouldn't start crying again because he didn't know how to comfort a crying person in front of him.

"The thing is," you replied, looking in the distance thinking how to explain it to him, "I don't even know if I want to come back home," you bit your lip nervously, seeing his confused face.

"What do you mean?" he asked in reply, leaning his shoulder on the car.

"I know that once I'm back home, everything will be the same as previously; I will be controlled again and locked up, and I don't want that," your explanation helped him understand the situation a little bit better, "my father is crazy."

"I'm sure that once you're back home, it will be different between you and your father," he replied softly, "our captain said he was devastated and bawled his eyes out," he nodded quickly.

"My father cried?" his statement left you dumbfounded, "I wish I were there to see; that's an infrequent occurrence," you smiled to yourself, hoping that this situation changed something in him and now he would be softer to you. But it was yet to find out.

"Thank you so much," you just realized that you couldn't even talk to König properly since the day you two met. He was close enough for you to snake your arms around his torso and give him a tight hug. You felt his body tense up at the sudden touch, but after at least two seconds of hesitation, his arms gently wrapped around you. Your head landed on his chest, covered with a bulletproof vest preventing you from hearing his heartbeat. His chin rested on the top of your head shortly after, and you felt his strong arms wrap your body even tighter, pulling you closer to him. This felt more like home at this moment than the home you will soon arrive at. The hug had to be broken before you fell asleep in his warm embrace. Your eyes sheepishly caught his vision as you pulled away, and you looked down to avoid his piercing eyes.

"Are y'all coming or what?" Horangi showed up on the dark wooden porch with something in his hands, "they have food in here," he reached into the bag of chips to pull a couple out and make them disappear in his mouth right after. With a quick side glance at König, you followed after him, stepping inside the silent house that welcomed you three with eye-catching decor in a cottage style. White walls were an excellent contrast to the dark wood furniture. Numerous carpets covering the floors, and the stairs leading to the second floor, were a pleasing detail. Dry flowers were all around the house, and you wondered if this was actually the correct house. It all looked too nice to be true.

"I just spoke to our teammates," Horangi put another chip chewing it quickly, "and they said it's a safe house made to blend in with the neighboring dwellings," it's like he read your thoughts, "that's why it's so cutesy."

The kitchen on the left from the entrance caught your eye next as you stood in the hall. The interior was very simple, but so on point that it was impossible to dislike it and you wished you could stay living here instead of going back.

"Shower's on the second floor," his finger pointed at the ceiling, "pick any room you want," Horangi kept eating while walking around, "there's also some shirts or whatever in the wardrobe. Take whatever you need basically." The realization that he didn't have his mask on just hit, and you noticed a scar on the side of his face that was slicing his lips and ending above the chin. Your gaze shifted to König that walked into the kitchen and set their bags, with a cluttering sound from all the guns and other stuff inside, on the wooden island counter in the middle of the kitchen. His hood slid off his head right after the helmet resting on the same countertop, revealing a black ski mask covering his face. His broad shoulders stretched out, being tensed up for too long; a heavy sigh escaped his mouth as his head fell back, and he stretched his arms out in the air. Right before his hand fell back to his neck to massage it as well, he turned to see you still in the same place near the entrance looking around hastily. Your head turned around in hopes to look occupied as soon as he almost caught you staring at him. König watched you disappear behind the wall separating the kitchen and hall as you made your way upstairs, so he won't notice your slightly flushed cheeks. The first door closest to you revealed a pretty neat room. A soft-looking bed with a single pillow awaited you to lay on it after such a tiring adventure. But taking a shower was a top priority right now. The door to the bathroom locked behind you with a swift twist of the doorknob. Feeling water running over your whole body felt like a blessing and a curse at the same time. It felt like a drug that you just don't want to let go of, not wanting the lingering pleasure to end too quickly. The streams of hot, almost skin-burning water covered your body in a second, leaving a tingling sensation afterwards, causing more and more goosebumps. Your eyes closed as the water ran over your face making you hold your breath, disguising yet another spout of tears streaming down along the flow of water right in the drain.

Horangi was right; there were some clothes in the wardrobe standing against the wall in front of the bed. Pretty big t-shirts but who cares? Better than the same set of clothes you wore for so long. The bright reddish-yellow sunlights sneaked through the white tulle hiding a window behind it, filling the room with a warm undertone due to almost everything being made out of wood. Little sunbeams were playing on your naked skin and all around the white-painted walls as the result of the trees outside obeying the slow wind and being in the way of sunlights lighting up the room. A black shirt hid your figure as you walked up to the window to open it and let in some fresh air into this suffocated with dust place. Your elbows ended up on the sill, and your hands supported your head. Your vision slowly shifted from the recently planted trees not so far away to a barely visible herd of cows on the horizon. Your eyes closed shut as your lungs welcomed a crisp breeze filling you up with calm and peace. A little bird on the top of some tree sang its song tranquilly, making you hum to the melody unintentionally. Life stopped at this exact moment, and you tried to remember it forever, finally believing that life can actually be peaceful like this. The sun felt hot on your skin, tickling your smiling cheeks with little warm rays, leaving hot pecks on them. A sudden knock on your door pulled you out of the little utopia that you wished was real life.

"Come down, we're having some sandwiches," König informed, carefully taking a peep in the room looking for you after a short approval of yours. His eyes paused on your figure standing near a window coated in the warm light coming from outside, making your eye color pop out even more as you looked at him staring at you. He kept standing in the doorframe, waiting for your answer.

"Okay," a sheepish answer from you made him nod quickly. The fact that he was staring a little too long left you flustered, and you didn't know where to look, which he caught on subsequently and closed the door quickly. Quick steps down the creaking stairs followed shortly after. He was so different from König you saw in action. His eyes were different; the pupils of his eyes almost as big as the irises when he looked at you made this man the size of a mountain look adorable. The urge to caress his cheeks that poked through the mask with each smile forced a tiny grunt out of you at the thought of it.

"Can you stay still?!" rumbled from the kitchen as you finally walked into it. König leaned in against the table behind him, squealing at the sensation of a cloth damped with some sanitizer being pressed to the injury on his shoulder he got in the forest. The pain made his hand cover his closed-shut eyes, not to see what his friend was doing to his wound. His long-sleeved shirt was halfway on his shoulder, exposing enough of the skin of his torso to make you glue your gaze to it, studying every muscle and scar visible to the eye at the moment.

"There we go," Horangi's announcement brought you back to life, shifting your eyes to the previously unseen products. Meanwhile, he patched up his injured friend, you made your way to glance at what was presented on the table.

"Where did you get all of this?" your question let König know of your presence as he glanced at you, viewing the food through his fingers. All of a sudden, he stopped squealing and whining, focusing on a new person that appeared due to his invitation.

"We have nice neighbors," Horangi squinted his eyes at his friend acting differently but didn't say anything. It was enough for him to understand; he knew König a little too well, such a sudden demeanor change was suspicious for less than a second. A dirty look from Horangi was left unnoticed as you two were focused too much but on different things.

"Weren't we told to lay quiet?" Confused, you asked, while reading the food brand names. To which Horangi shrugged, stuffing his mouth with a ham sandwich.

The blanket thrown over your shaking body failed at what it's known for; to keep you warm. Or you thought so, was it actually fear seeding its way into every cell of your body? Unintentionally, you jerked at every sound coming from outside. Every car, which was a rare occurrence, passing by the house you stayed in, made you hold your breath and listen attentively. The image of the room you were locked in popped up every so often, more like every time you closed your eyes to try to fall asleep. The grip of your hand on the blanket covering your head, like it was able to save you from the monsters whether they were real or not, was getting painful enough to let it go after a while, just to grasp on it again for emotional support. The memory of holding König's hand was the only thing helping you get through the mild panic attack. How carefully he held it like it was a tender glass figurine that should be handled with care. How just a simple touch made you feel loved like you never felt before. Or was it just a delusion? No, it couldn't be. There was nothing like this from Horangi. The looks they both gave you were different. The eyes looking at you reflected different emotions. Whereas Horangi's eyes projected more nonchalance, König's eyes were empathic. Amazing how much a pair of eyes can tell you more than words. Probably, him, always wearing his hood, taught him how to speak with his eyes only and how to read other people's thoughts and emotions through them. Numbers surfaced in your mind as you counted them to relax and steady the racing heartbeat, which resounded with loud impulses inside your head. At this point, your eyes refused to close due to stress, but simultaneously you were forced to see nothing but void.

"One.. two.. three.." shaky breath escaped your mouth with each count. The same way you were counting the steps in the basement, and at some point, the steps got so loud that it appeared like they were coming for you again. With a swift motion, the blanket was thrown to the end of the bed, still covering your feet, as you sat up, looking around the dark room with the only light source being the thin sullen moon somewhere high up on the bleak sky. Your own breath suffocating you; you thought you were now free, you were now released and protected, but were you really? What if they survived the car crash? What if they come back again? What if they take you again? What if? What if? What if? These questions flooded your mind right now. Actually going to sleep and being in a state of unconsciousness felt like a mad idea. Your subconscious compelled to stay fully awake and alert for your own safety. Tea always helped you relax a bit; out of habit, you felt a craving for some dark, sweetened leaf infusion. The food basket that Horangi brought from the neighbors contained some herb tea, so it made you get up and sneakily flee from the stifling room to the kitchen.

"Where is it, god damn?" your lips whispered into the full basket. The box with a couple of teabags finally made contact with your fingers, and you pulled it out, reading about the contents of the little white packets with herbs. As soon as the kettle whistled, you poured boiling hot water, submerging the teabag with the teaspoon so all the flavor escaped quicker to stain the water with a rich hazel color in the cup you found in one of the cupboards. All of a sudden, a huge truck shoot past the house you were in, using the outlying districts as a detour to omit highway fees illegally. The unforeseen noise coming through the half opened kitchen windows facing the main road startled you, making your head snap to where the sound was coming from. At the same time, the hand holding the kettle jerked, and the boiling water burned the tender skin of the hand holding the cup. The cup flew to the floor from a sharp ache and, with a bustling noise, left a clutter of porcelain near your feet. Your hand wrapped with a t-shirt fabric pressed to the burned spot as little ouches and cursing filled the silence. How tiring it was to be scared of everything and everyone; since birth and until today. Everyone expected something from you, and if you didn't reach the expectations, the blame was put on you and only you as you asked for a life like this. Tears swelled your eyes once again, but you didn't understand was it from the internal pain or the pain coming from the knife pressed to your wrist. Something that you thought of so many times but just actually didn't have the strength to do. Why not end all the suffering right here and now? What could stop you now? Exactly nothing. Rummaging through the thoughts and memories in your mind made you squeeze your eyes tightly.

A voice repeating your name broke through the wall of anxiety and terror that was built brick by brick throughout years and years to pull you out of the ditch of dread you were forced into with all the recent experiences. A crease formed between your eyebrows as you saw an unknown man with a very familiar voice standing in the doorframe.

"König?" you asked, realizing that it was actually him, but without his mask. The unexpectedly revealed appearance brought you back to your senses.

"What are you doing?" a soft whisper reached you as his eyes shifted from the knife pressed to your wrist to your disturbed eyes.

What am I doing? A genuine question to yourself.

"I don't know," a reply to both his and your question. Your voice cracked mid-reply as a new wave of tears rushed to your eyes, "I'm so tired," the knife fell to the ground, producing a dinging sound, right where the broken cup was and your shaky hands flew to cover your face. You couldn't believe you were about to bring yourself even more pain instead of fighting back. Loud whimpers escaped through the hands that tried to silence them but failed. Seeing you like this broke his heart. The hatred he felt for the people that scarred your innocence forever was spilling with each breath he exhaled. A pair of strong arms wrapped around you firmly after a bit of hesitation. All he wanted was to protect you from all the pain and distress; he knew this wasn't enough, but it was all he could do right now. Little did he know how much you craved a genuine embrace like this and how enough it was. His hand caressed the back of your head as you cried into his chest helplessly, pressing all of you as close to him as he could. His chin once again placed itself on the top of your head, just listening to the silenced cries coming from you, fighting back his own tears. Your arms folded behind his back, feeling the warmth coming off him. This was needed more than anything, and he was able to provide it for you for as long as you needed it. Feeling his chest pressed to your cheek rise up and down slowly was something so captivating that you wish it lasted forever. His own steady breathing helped you calm down as your ear pressed to him, listened to both of your heartbeats synchronizing in a singular serene tact. It felt so right when you hugged so tight as you both needed it. The safest feeling in the world could be, living in his embrace.

"I'm so sorry," a low, rumbled voice rang out of the blue, forcing you to look up at him, confused. The fault was nowhere near his, but he still felt the need to say it, "I'm so sorry you have to go through this," his thumb grazed over your cheek lovingly, wiping a salty tear away. He looked at you softly, with pain in his own eyes; like he was very familiar with what you were going through, but he decided to stay silent. What mattered to him the most was you in his arms right now. The moment he wanted to savor for as long as he could. His lips parted with a quiet sigh and you couldn't tear your eyes off him. You got the chance to investigate every little detail about his face, which he noticed how your eyes traveled all around his face, from his eyes to the scar on his cheekbone, stopping at his lips. This flustered him a little too much, as he felt the blush paint his cheeks a pinkish color, but he couldn't take his eyes off you as well. Watching your sleeping face on the backseat of the jeep was different from what he was observing now. The closeness between you two felt more intimate all of a sudden, raising the temperature in the room quickly. A swarm of butterflies appeared in your rib cage, creating a kaleidoscope of emotions all at once, as his gaze was learning your face features closely. His hand never left your face, still stroking your cheek, feeling it warm up under his thumb. The yearning desire to slowly place your hand on his neck wasn't ignored, to which he responded almost immediately by tilting his head closer to feel the touch. Your fingertips scratched the back of his head and neck, sending chills down his spine from pleasure. His hand outlined your waist and figure in repetitive motions. There was no timidity; there was something more potent. There was passion, ardor, hunger even, a longing hunger for love. Your hand stopped at the nape of his neck, so you could pull him in closer, mixing both of your breaths into one, before you closed the distance between your lips. Him leaning in closer was a sign that he wanted this as much as you did. The kiss quickly turned from slow and shy to more demanding, making lust in both your chests grow stronger. However, the touch of his hand on your cheek stayed tender, creating a perfect balance between sensations. He sucked on your lip, chasing the kiss as you pulled away a little to look into his eyes once again to understand if he had the same desire. And to say he didn't was the biggest lie. He couldn't hold himself back from going straight to tasting you again, but he forced himself to wait until you decided what to do next.

"You're so precious," he looked at you with those drunk half-closed eyes as the lust filled him up entirely. His words brought that mixture of excitement and shyness to your mind, rushing the blood flow to your face.

"I want you," you said, almost inaudible, as your hands stroked his jawline, feeling the stubble. The statement worked like an ignition, lighting up a fire in his soul. The command he was willing to obey any time, any day. The eagerness made him act like he usually never did. His hands snaked down your thighs to grab underneath them to land you on his waist. You were sat on the table that was behind him this whole time, still wrapping your legs around him tightly, creating friction where you both needed it the most. His lips found yours quickly, connecting them in a passionate kiss, trying to taste every part of your lips and tongue. His hand never leaving your waist and hips, caressing them lovingly. The grip of his hands squeezed those parts of your body from time to time, wanting to remove the fabric that stopped him from feeling the warmth of your soft skin. He wouldn't proceed unless he knew it was safe to do so and he wasn't forcing you to do anything. Same with you. Your hands slipped down his huge back and sneaked under it, stopping on his surprisingly dainty waist. He was perfect, from the top of his head down to his feet. You two shared the same thoughts about each other. He took your action as a hint and pulled the shirt off, breaking the kiss. His exposed chest and torso were in front of you on full display, so you didn't waste any time and touched him tenderly. The heart under your touch was beating fast enough for your own arousal to grow quicker. Your fingertips traced the pattern of the scars you saw, and you wondered what caused him to have them. But there was no disgust; on the contrary, there was adore. As soon as the shirt messily appeared on the floor, his hands pulled you in again.

"Wait," you chuckled at how impatient he was. Your hands grabbed the bottom of your own t-shirt and pulled it off you, leaving it somewhere where his t-shirt was on the ground. He couldn't keep his hands back; they immediately placed themselves on the tender skin hiding underneath. The only thing in the way now was your bra, and you simply nodded when the obvious question appeared in his eyes. The hands never leaving your skin, traveled to the back of your body to find the unnecessary clasp. He fiddled with it briefly before you felt your bra come undone. His fingers slowly got under the bra straps on your shoulders and pulled them down your arms, making the bra fall to your legs. A sudden exposure in front of him made you timid, and you pressed your lips nervously, feeling the need to cover up, but something stopped you, convincing you it wasn't embarrassing. He noticed how your eyes changed; he always does. The fact that he hides his face made him learn how to communicate through eyes only. How easy it is to read other people's emotions once you master this skill because it's always the eyes that tell you the truth, not words.

"You're so beautiful," his hands appeared on your rib area again, caressing the bottom of your breasts with his thumbs, brushing them over your nipples slightly, "you deserve nothing but love." Everything he said, he meant it. It felt like all your internal wounds healed up slowly with each word. If only he knew what effect he had on you right now. But he probably did; your squeezing thighs around him were giving it away too easily. It felt unfair that only he did the touching, so to build up the courage a little, your hand went to his belt, pushing your fingers behind the waistband of his pants and pulling on it slightly. And you succeeded; his facial expression changed immediately, from confident to flustered, as his eyes followed your hand. Another rush of desire rushed through all his body at this simple action. You could see the goosebumps appear on his skin, which left you satisfied. His head fell to where your neck was, to leave wet sloppy kisses on it, as his hand sneaked to the zipper of your pants, and he undid them quickly. Each little bite he left on your skin was followed by a quick lick or a kiss. He tasted you like you were the sweetest candy just for him, feeding his hunger with each touch, each kiss, each glance. He suddenly pulled you closer to him, and he picked you up with his arm wrapped around you from the table, so he could slide your pants off with the other one, leaving you naked in front of him. You closed your thighs, feeling another wave of embarrassment wash over you, but he was quick to make it vanish as his hands softly spread your legs, looking you in the eyes and whispering sweet nothings. Your hands were placed behind you on the table for support while his kisses traveled down from your neck to your collarbones, finally reaching your breasts. His arm is behind your back to keep you close because he just craves the touch, to feel you upon his hand. Your head fell back once his burning hot lips touched your hardened nipples, massaging the other breast at the same time to not leave it unnoticed. His tongue swirled around the sensitive skin of your boobs, while you were pushing them closer to him with each heavy breath. You leaned on your elbows as he made his way lower down your stomach; he made sure he kissed every spot he could reach, caressing the rest with his warm hand so you don't feel too cold being naked. The trail of kisses reached your belly button, then your lower stomach, which twitched with each touch from sensation; that made him leave a breathy giggle on your delicate skin, tickling it even more. Little giggles left your mouth as you tried to cover the responsive place on your body with your hand. He grabbed your hand and left kisses on it as well, on each finger, pressing each of your fingertips to his lips. His eyes caught the injured area on your hand from the boiling water.

"What is this?" he looked up at you through furrowed eyebrows from between your thighs.

"Oh, I tried making tea," you explained. He carefully felt the area with his fingers to ensure it didn't hurt you before kissing it even more carefully.

"Better?" he gave you bedroom eyes as he planted kisses on the injured spot. You nodded your head in reply, as it did magically heal it. Or maybe you were so aroused you didn't feel pain anymore; nevertheless, he was the reason for this. His fingers traveled from your stomach down to your crotch, and your breath hitched at the sensation of his cold fingertips drawing lines on your hot skin. He watched you react to his touch to repeat it again and receive the same response as a reward. Your crotch longed for his touch more than anything. He knew this but wanted to play a little, not too much, but enough to overstimulate you so the desired process feels more pleasant. His mouth found the inside of your thighs, spreading them apart a little more, as you were almost over the edge already.

"Please," you pleaded, unable to take this torture anymore. He didn't hesitate, and his fingers found the pulsating aching spot between your folds immediately upon your request.

"Do you like that?" König asked, standing between your legs, spreading them apart as far as he could now. Your back, barely touching the table under you, was arching, trying to feel his fingers better, deeper. He massaged your clit in circular motions with his index and middle finger pressed together, watching you squirm under his touch, unable to form a proper word in reply. He would go slower if you didn't reply, taking his fingers away from your most sensitive spot to drag them down your folds, spreading them even more to see how leaking wet you get from his dirty actions. He pushed both fingers inside of you at a painfully slow pace, in and out, again and again.

"Mhm," a desperate answer was formed quickly to stop the torturing he was putting you through. He very much enjoyed seeing you lay there naked, totally exposed just for him, ready to obey whatever he says to earn praise or reward.

"You're doing so good," he repeated again and again, watching your face closely. Whatever he does, he wants to see you; he also wants you to watch what he does to your body and how it reacts to his sinful actions. He loves seeing a crease form between your frowned eyebrows as his hand gets covered in your juices spilling out of you profusely. The way your chest raises with each heavy exhale mixed with a moan and a rough grunt escaping your throat every time he moves his fingers faster as you try to squeeze your thighs from the sensation. The blush rushing to your cheeks was something you were embarrassed about at the moment, but he absolutely loved it. Teary eyes combined with blood-red cheeks were something that boosted his ego a little too hard. A sudden touch of his tongue along his fingers curling inside of you made your mouth open wide, unable to produce any sounds. Your hand rushed to place itself on the top of his head and pull on his hair still damp from the shower. Your thighs squeezed his head between them as he dived in more and more, dragging his tongue across your folds to taste you even more.

"I can't.." a whimper was forced out of your chest as your head fell back even more.

"You can hold on a little longer for me, can't you?" he begged, not wishing for this to end, "please, you like that spot, don't you?" his voice pathetic, as the fingers worked their magic, finding every needy spot inside.

The fingers disappearing inside you repeatedly and his nose massaging your clit brought you over the edge. Your legs bent in the knees as you tried to close them from the head-spinning orgasm, but his head was still in the way, not letting you rest so quickly. He raised his head shortly, licking his lips and looking at the mess you left on the table, dripping down the edge of it. His hands still massaged your thighs as you tried to open your eyes. You felt his wet, with your own fluids, fingers draw little hearts on your thighs, where he previously left bite marks, as he waited for you to come down from your high.

"You look so pretty when you're a mess for me," he allowed himself a soft chuckle, observing what was in front of him. You were soon pulled in close to him again, your hands placed on his chest, "but I'm not done with you."

Your body was pressed to his torso, with his hands supporting you under your butt so you didn't fall, as your arms were wrapped around his neck tightly. There was a slight hint of musk on his skin, on the nape of his neck to be exact, where your head was resting, while he was walking up the stairs as quietly as he could. The door to your room was shortly closed behind him, and your figure appeared straddling him on the same bed you were on not so long ago. The tip of his nose was drawing squiggly lines on the side of your neck while his hands hungrily touched every part of your body. Each breath he took was left on your skin with a ticklish aftereffect. He was doing so good for you and was so obedient that you wanted to make him feel the same pleasure. You grinded your hips against his crotch slowly, barely noticeable at first, hoping to get a reaction out of him. His eyes closed shut under the frowned eyebrows as little whines left his mouth with each breath, grazing against your skin.

"You have such big hands," you suddenly said, taking his hand which was glued to your body. He immediately looked at you, then at your hands, as you pressed them to each other, "I want them inside of me again," you whispered; this time, you were the one leaving kisses on his hands, watching him closely. How it drove him crazy, each planted kiss shoots like a needle through his heart.

"Use me however you want, please," his pupils visibly diluted as he flustered himself with his own words, "please touch me." Your hand obeyed and sneaked down to his pants, palming his dick through the thick fabric covering it. He responded with little thrusts to your touch. Meanwhile, you led his hand back to where it was previously. He dipped his fingers inside again, massaging your walls around his fingers. His thumb located your clit, giving it additional attention, leaving a longing pain down your stomach. You finally undid his belt, and he unzipped his pants to remove them hastily as you kept riding his fingers.

"Your fingers feel so nice," you cried out, intertwining fingers with his other hand," push them deeper," you begged, trying to hide your moans.

"I know, baby, let it all out," he simply wanted to hear a mess of words coming out of you mixed with praise. He was such a sucker for praise; he needed to know how good he was doing, "you like that? Tell me," his fingers knuckles deep, sliding in and out, as you raised your body up and down in rhythm.

"Mhm," you pressed your lips together as your head fell back. His pleading eyes watched you closely, relishing every second of the show. Your hand slipped down again, "I want more," you whispered right into his lips, making him lose his mind at the thought of cumming together. Your fingers snatched the underwear fabric down to release him in the freedom, to what he grunted deeply. His hands were surprisingly big, but the size of his dick resting on his abdomen made your jaw fall at sight. Your hand grabbed his dick immediately, stroking it slowly, applying pressure to the tip to make him see stars. Little ah's and oh's escaped with each stroke from being overstimulated for too long. Your thumb traced a vein popping out on the side along his cock, as you stroked it slowly.

"Please, faster," he tried to catch his breath helplessly, unable to keep his eyes open. At some point, he couldn't take the torture anymore, so he forced your hips up, positioning himself at your entrance. That's precisely what you were trying to achieve; to see him so desperate and hear him begging. The thought of a man so huge being so whiney and pleading pathetically was adorable. The smile never left your face, as you watched his blue eyes focus on your face again, waiting for your approval. Another second of waiting, and he'd lose his mind, so he forced a relieved grunt out as you slowly slid down on his dick, finally feeling the desired warmth of your pussy wrapped around him tightly. He gave you time to adjust, as he was fully aware of his size and capabilities, so hurting you was the last thing he wished to do. His thumbs caressed your cheeks nervously as he watched your squeezed eyes open slowly as you let out a breath held in your lungs. His lips devoured yours as he tried his best to distract you from the tearing pain. As soon as you fully relaxed and felt him fill you up completely, a quick kiss was planted on his forehead to let him know it was okay.

"Look at you," the corner of his lips curled, "taking me so well," there was no escape from his constantly following gaze, but you didn't mind at this point. That's how he communicated. Your arms wrapped around his neck for support while his head lowered to your chest. You raised your hips slowly; his hands helped you keep the steady tempo as your legs were giving up now. Quiet whispering against your skin between your boobs was heard while he thrusted into you deeper and deeper.

"So pretty."

"So gorgeous."

"Pretty please."

Muffled moans and whimpers grazed his ear with each thrust from being unable to form proper words in reply. No words were needed right now, and no words could explain the feelings at this moment between you two. His eyes fell to where his dick was disappearing inside your vagina, picking up speed gradually. A wet mess appeared on his pants; a mixture of fluids was coating his dick, making him slide in easier and sloppier. He left shameless moans on your hot from his breath skin, not caring if he was too loud. Your throat refused to let out any more sounds from exhaustion. Your fingers were buried deep in his hair, pulling on it to make him look at you. A smile grew on both your faces as you two felt the familiar build-up down the stomach. He grabbed your face, so you staring directly at him as he’s finishing. Making both of your heads spin, the strongest orgasm washed over you two at the same time. He was quick to pull out and cum all over his abdomen, making your fluids leak down your thighs. Breathing shakily as you two tried to calm down, he was still pressing you close to him, scared of letting you go.

"Your skin is so soft," words escaped his lips as he chafed them along your collarbone. Little comments like this made you feel shyer than the fact that you two just had sex.

"Did they do it to you?" his fingers traced the bruises on your body carefully as you were laying on your back now, watching him lay on his side as he leaned his head on his hand for support. You nodded silently, remembering how they treated you. He noticed your facial expression change from relaxed to a slightly disturbed one and he cursed himself for bringing that up. He leaned in to leave a soft kiss on each bruise, moving up from your stomach to your lips, leaving a quick kiss on them as well. His head rested on your neckline, listening to your heartbeat closely as his hands wrapped your body safely. Your hands placed themselves on his head, leaving scratches and just playing with his hair. It didn't matter what was waiting for you later; what mattered was him in your embrace, telling you how beautiful you were. You played with his hand, intertwining fingers occasionally and just comparing sizes, snickering at the ridiculous difference. It left him flustered every time, not understanding your obsession with his hands, but whatever makes you happy.

"You looked so hot back in the store," a sudden confession slipped out of your mouth into the silence, making him look at you confused.

"When?" was all he asked.

"When you saved me from that guy," you explained, failing at hiding your smile.

"When I broke his back?" his eyebrow raised in question, as he cracked up at this.

"Yeah," you returned a light laugh, pulling his face closer to you.

"I will find a way to protect you, darling," the last whisper from him of the night vanished in the air shortly after it was let out.

Two months have passed since that night, but you couldn't stop repeating the night you two had. The true love you had the chance to experience from someone who's a total stranger to you. Nothing could compare to that; it was the only thing helping you through therapy sessions for kidnapped victims. Sharing your story with other victims in a circle was something you hated, but according to the therapist, it had to be done and faced instead of hiding from it. Always reminding yourself the fact that you survived and are standing strong. A round of applause rumbled through the studio as you repeated every detail of your experience. Well, almost every detail, except the only one that must remain a secret forever.

"Can you please come down," your father's voice rang through the phone, "I'm in my office," you heard him take a puff of his cigar.

"Okay, I'm coming," you said, rolling around on your bed.

"Hey," he suddenly said before you could hang up, "remember, I love you," he said sheepishly, which made a smile appear on your face. After a short reply from you, the call was ended. It was so unfamiliar to hear from him, even though it wasn't the first time he had said it. König was right, he changed his attitude towards you after almost losing you. The constant controlling stayed, obviously, but he was now way softer. You caught yourself thinking about König again, shaking your head quickly. You had to let go, but it was so hard. With a heavy sigh, your feet touched the floor of your room, and you walked out of it, heading to the office down the stairs.

"Hello, honey!" Susan exclaimed happily, walking up the stairs. She did it each time she saw you, still blaming herself for letting you go that night. But if she didn't, you'd never meet König, so you let her know it was okay.

"Oh, you're here already," your father dropped whatever he was doing and paid attention to your presence, "I have some news that you may not like, but trust me," he closed his eyes and pressed his hands together in front of him, "I'm doing this because I'm worried for you." You already knew he came up with something crazy to protect you. The only thing left was to find out what exactly.

"Go ahead," you said without protesting immediately like you did previously.

"You're getting a bodyguard," he saw you close your eyes slowly. It was excessive; a private driver was so enough, why is there a need for another person?

"Dad, really?" you asked calmly, "I had enough of this in high school when no one wanted to talk to me because of a menacing shadow next to me all the time. But I'm not a child anymore," you'd try to protest again, but he was kind of right; however, it was tiring always having someone next to you with almost no chance for privacy.

"At least for now," he begged, hearing you clearly, but still keeping his point, "let's try and see," he placed a cigar between his lips to take another puff, "I asked my good friend in military to find me a reliable person for this, and he did offer someone. He'slike fresh out of military contract," he looked down at the watch on his wrist, "and he should be here soon by the way." After a couple of minutes a ringing sound of the radio attached to the office table rumbled, letting him know someone was at the gate.

"Sir, they're here," a voice of a butler announced through the same radio once your father pressed a button to accept the call.

"Great! Let them in," he clapped his hands, taking another puff nervously. You stayed sitting in a big leather armchair, just playing with your fingers, remembering his fingers intertwined with yours. The door opened, and the sound spread around the room as someone stepped in. You didn't even budge to raise your head or turn to look at the man standing behind you; there was no interest to see.

"Welcome!" your father leaned back into his chair, spreading his arms, "what was your name again?" he asked as he stood up to invite him into the office and give a firm handshake.

"König," the name pierced your ears immediately, making you raise your head and widen your eyes slowly. The fear of turning around took over, as you couldn't believe what you just heard and if you even heard it correctly. With absolutely zero thoughts in your head, you turned your head, and a familiar face beamed right in front of you. The corners of your parted lips curled up, but you dropped the smile immediately so your father didn't suspect anything.

"Ahh, that's why I couldn't remember it; such a unique name, is it German?" he shook his hand.

"Yes, sir," he replied, keeping eye contact between you two. The excitement quickly replaced fear as you weren't so annoyed by your father's idea anymore.

#cod mw2 #cod mwii #cod smut #modern warfare 2 #mw2 #ao3 tags #fanfic #fanfiction #könig call of duty #könig smut #konig x reader #konig x you #konig smut #konig imagine #könig x reader #könig x you #mw2 smut #könig fanfiction #konig mw2 #könig cod #fem reader #oneshot #one shot #cod konig #cod könig #mw2 konig #mw2 könig #konig fic #modern warfare x you #cod modern warfare

[gallifreyinstituteforlearning]

Satthralope served as the Housekeeper at Lungbarrow, the Doctor's House. She had an extremely strict nature and utterly no patience for the "spoilt" young Doctor, smacking him extremely hard on at least one occasion, and actively encouraging Glospin's bullying towards him. When the House collapsed, the Doctor tried to save her life, but she refused his help and died as a consequence.

(Cold Fusion, Lungbarrow)

Whoniverse Facts for Friday by GIL

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》📫Got a question / submission? 》😆Jokes |🫀Biology |🗨️Language |🕰️Throwbacks |🤓Facts 》📚Complete list of Q+A 》📜Masterpost If you like what GIL does, please consider buying a coffee or tipping below to help make future projects, including complete biology and language guides.

#doctor who #dr who #dw eu #gallifrey #GIL #gallifrey institute for learning #GIL facts #whoniverse #TOTW: Who live in a House like this?

[windermeresimblr]

The Bachelor Beaumaris, 1.0 (Sunday Morning)

All of the ladies have arrived, and, in celebration of the event, everyone is...out on the lawn, doing their damnedest to get heatstroke and pass out.

Not previously introduced are the servants: Jeremiah Prince (brown waistcoat and breeches), Gregory's valet; his sister Tabitha (striped caraco and green skirt), the housekeeper; Kitty Fletcher, Venetia's lady's maid (striped caraco and floral stomacher and skirt), and Bridget O'Doyle, the maid-of-all-work (blue dress). We won't be seeing much of them; they're going to be living in the basement, for the most part.

But now, we have to have some socialization. First up is Amalie.

Amalie: (considering her past career in the Opera)

Gregory: (is this love? or is this mesmerism?)

Amalie: If we could see the world as a globe, what do you think it would look like?

Gregory: My sister, Ursula, will live with us forever, per the terms of my late father's will. I hope you don't mind that.

Demelza apparently finds this quite attractive, and Gregory found that attractive. (Most of his lines, apparently, were discussing either Ursula or Venetia. Interesting tack there, Gregory, but I suppose you do marry the family...)

Gregory: I like the moon!

Gabrielle: So, did we need to bring our own furniture?

Gregory: No, Ursula found some old bedsteads in the lumber-room in our townhouse in London...

Gregory: It's not the most stylish house, but it's really mine, so that counts for something?

Isadora: I think it's a wonderful way to remake everything in the most modish manner.

Gregory: Do you suppose David Garrick would share his builder's calling-card?

Marie-Claude and Gregory also had developing feelings; I suppose this was from Marie-Claude listening discreetly to Gregory's chats with the others. As for Gregory, I think he just falls in love easily.

Gregory: I do enjoy the theater, even if it is a bit scandalous.

Marie-Claude: Have you heard of "Lover's Vows?"

Mathilde also fell in love with Gregory instantaneously! (Even if he talks about his sisters all day long.)

Gregory: They say it's a great bear, but I've never seen a bear with a tail. I think it looks like a big chopping knife.

Vivian: I feel as though the house has suddenly collapsed in size tremendously! I'm going to count the bricks in the road until it goes back to normal.

Gregory: (continues to discuss his late father's provisions in his will)

Vivian: This is a good sign! If he likes his sisters, he'll be a good husband, right?

Vivian: I do love art--I have been hoping to examine the sculpture galleries in London. But paintings are lovely, too! It's so hard to decide!

Gregory: I think I can find us admission! Venetia knows someone who knows someone.

#the bachelor beaumaris #he's very friendly with all of them and there have been five (5) heart-farts #but I also forgot how chaotic it is to have so many sims in the house #an outtakes post is going to be put up soon

[bengiyo]

Ossan's Love Returns Ep 8 Stray Thoughts

Last week, everyone had to come together when Chizu collapsed. Chizu didn't want Teppei to know and cancel the first vacation they had taken in years. Haruta and Maki helped care for Goro. Meanwhile, the chief started coughing blood, and after Choko made him get a second opinion it seems there's something wrong with his lungs. Also, Kiku captured the guy who murdered Akito and properly confessed to Izumi. I'm still thinking about the family moment where everyone gathered around Chizu, and little Goro cleaned her shoes. Finally, Haruta and Maki agreed that they are not ready to expand their family right now.

Oh, Kurosawa, please tell at least Choko what's going on.

Look at Haruta stepping up with housekeeping.

I don't disagree with Maki. Having someone come over regularly to clean and cook was definitely not cheap.

I'm extremely skeptical about pickled banana.

Good job, squad. Please share notes on the Chief and intervene.

Damn, Yoshida Kotaro gets me every time he plays Kurosawa upset.

Episode 8: The Housekeeper with One Month to Live

I genuinely hope Izumi finds a way to process his grief and live a peaceful existence.

The squad has assembled and has a plan!

This whole counseling bit is so weird, but it's amusing.

I like the set detail of keeping the crayon marks Goro left on the counter.

Kurosawa and Maki can't just have a nice moment without it almost turning into another brawl.

Oh, Haruta. I would miss the chief, too.

This party actually looks fun. Unsurprised the chief made food art to dunk on Maki again. I am glad at least Choko knows something's up.

These goodbye videos are crushing me.

Okay, the callback to "Can you tell me 10 good things about Haruta?" sent me over the edge.

This is too much! I don't want to grieve Kurosawa!

Damn, this was a lot harder than I was expecting. I just adore Kurosawa so much, and it's making me miss my gay elders we've buried. I'm gonna go lay down for a bit after that. Goddamn.

#Ben watches #Ossan's Love #Ossan's Love Returns #japanese bl #bl series

[lesvegas]

New Vegas - Now Under New Management!

With his investigation 'concluded', Auguste returns home for some much needed R&R, and has a chat with his father before making an important call.

Chapter 4: Laplace's Angel [ao3 link]

When dogs ‘cried’, they made these horrible whines that grate on the ears, whether they’re in pain or just feel they’re not being doted on enough. They can’t help it, though; unlike people, they’re only capable of making a few kinds of sounds with their animalistic vocal chords. I still never understood why their whining was called ‘crying’, though. People didn’t sound like that when they cried, did they?

Maybe it’d just been so long since I let myself cry that I just forgot what it sounded like. I certainly forgot how to do it.

When I left the Ultra-Luxe, I started walking alongside Cal, lighting a cigarette to ease my nerves while keeping my head held high. I ignored the crowd that parted for us and dismissed him when he asked again if I was alright, going straight into the Tops without him and being let right in. I didn’t realize he still had my gun until I saw someone else getting their weapons confiscated, but the last thing I wanted to do was go back outside. I’ll have him return it another time.

I did a phenomenal job at maintaining my composure until I got into the elevator. When I was finally in solitude for a moment, I choked again, quickly clasping my hand over my mouth to shut myself up. I held my breath as the elevator doors opened, glanced up and down the corridor to find myself alone, then made a run for my room, slamming the door shut behind me.

Surrounded by childish comforts, I only briefly wondered which of the three stupid teddy bears Dia had apparently given me, then approached my oversized plush bed and collapsed onto it, bundling up the silk sheets in my hands before bringing them to my face and weeping. Finally able to be at ease, I sobbed into the smooth fabric, my face already feeling hot and soaked with tears. Muffled, I whined like an injured animal between gasps, shaking and inconsolable.

A soft, polite knock rang loud throughout my room, startling me into near silence. It was quiet for a half a moment before I realized in a panic that someone might see me like this. “Don’topenthedoor-” I said, quickly sitting upright and rubbing my eyes on my sleeve, taking a deep breath. “Don’t. Open the door.” I repeated, firmly. “What do you want.”

“I’m home.” my father said from the other side. Of course, who else would it be? Housekeeping? “Someone was selling bird eggs in Freeside. And Brahmin bacon.” He continued when I didn’t respond. “I’m going to make breakfast. It will be ready in twenty minutes.”

I heard him walk away from the door. It didn’t sound like there was anyone out there with him, so there was really no reason not to go out and join him. I got up and went into my private bathroom, taking a face towel and drenching it in cold water before pressing it to my eyes. It only took maybe ten minutes of cold compress before it almost looked like I hadn’t been crying. I combed my hair and slipped out of my coat and tie, leaving them on my bed. I wasn’t going out anytime soon anyway.

By the time I opened the door, the suite already reeked of bacon. My father stood in our kitchenette, his back facing me as he stirred something. I couldn’t remember the last time he’d cooked something; we both lived off the local restaurants with a never-ending tab that had no limit. But I do remember that the last thing he made was something he always called ‘Eggs Nevada’. Stupid name for an odd but really good breakfast.

“Could you set the table, please, Auguste?” He asked as soon as he heard my door open. I wordlessly walked through the living area to the dining area, and approached him to see what he was making first. In a glass bowl on top of a metal pot he was whisking a yellow sauce–

“Did they have butter, too?” I asked, retrieving a pair of forks and knives from a drawer.

“Unfortunately, no. This is just what we had in the freezer.” He said. “The sauce would be the same either way.”

Butter made from Brahmin’s milk wasn’t expensive or even difficult to obtain, if you lived someplace where Brahmin ranches were abundant. But we didn’t have an abundance of ranches here, and the few sources of Brahmin butter were sold to the casinos specifically, not individuals. We could get anything slathered in the stuff if we ordered it, but we didn’t normally have much to just use on our own. Not that we really needed it.

With forks and knives on cloth napkins, I retrieved two glasses next, and the jug of apple-pear juice from the fridge, setting it in the middle of the small dining table. All set, I then approached the counter again to watch my father finish preparing the food.

With the butter sauce at the perfect consistency, he took it off the pot of boiling water and quickly poured it over the eggs; four of them, about the size of a golf ball each, on top of crispy greasy Brahmin bacon, on of thick slices of toasted bread, split between two plates. A heavy breakfast, and one of the only meals he could make better than the restaurants. If he made this specifically to cheer me up… I had to admit, it was already working.

I took both plates to the table while he turned the stove off and did some quick cleaning up. I sat on my side of the table; back facing the door, looking to the windows, in the chair that has always been my spot. I didn’t need to wait for him, but I did anyway, because it was ‘polite’, he once said. And I might as well pour the juice for us both.

The second he sat down, of course, I picked up my knife and gently stabbed the egg until it broke. Even under the light yellow sauce I saw the yolk ooze out of the soft white like syrup, golden-orange lava slowly enveloping the deep brown bacon like the sun itself was melting over earth. I gave it a moment to soak into the bread before I began to cut it all into one bite-sized piece.

“I spoke to Callipho on my way home this morning.”

I stopped cutting. So, that’s what this is. He’s done this before; he’ll make or order food he knows I can’t resist, wait until I’ve sat down and started to eat, then ask a hard question I’d never answer otherwise. Only he hasn’t actually asked me anything yet. He was waiting for me to take the first bite. “So?” I asked.

“He told me you went to the Ultra-Luxe together.”

Was he stalling? Or was he waiting for me to break down and tell him everything? I just took my first bite and waited for him to continue. The bacon was a bit thicker than I thought it’d be, which kept it from being too crispy, and the runny egg drenching the crunchy toast was… it was honestly divine. Salty and savoury and as flavourful as a dish could be despite the simplicity of it all.

“He also told me why the Jackals were all riled up when I returned to the Strip.” He went on when I said nothing. He only paused to finally eat, quietly and with his mouth closed, and didn’t speak again until he swallowed. “He insisted it was nothing to worry about, and that he and Fresno could take care of it, but…”

“I’m not scared of them.” I spoke up.

That made him look at me, his expression as unreadable as always. I never knew what he was thinking, but at the same time I wasn’t scared of him. Not of him directly, at least. “Well, I don’t really care how you 'feel' about them specifically.” He said. “What’s done is done. But next time, you should really let Callipho deal with these things himself. It’s why we have employees.”

Fresno has employees. Father’s just their husband. Technically, neither of us had any real authority. I’m not sure if he really understood that, or if he simply pretended otherwise.

“So did he tell you why I did it?” I asked. If he didn’t, then that was a really important detail he chose to leave out.

“He did.” He said, and let me wonder exactly what Cal had said about me as he used his knife to carefully pile on equal parts egg and toast onto his fork, then eating it slowly. Chew, swallow, speak again. “So, how do you feel now?”

Great, he wasn’t even going to tell me what Cal told him. Did he have any idea someone tried to hire a Jackal to kill me? …would Cal want him to know that, or would it accomplish nothing but making him worry? If he really thought my life was in danger, he’d probably keep me locked up in here. I had to assume Cal left out some details for my sake yet again. “How do I feel about the Jackals?” I asked. “No different from before.”

“No, I mean how do you feel now that you’ve killed a man?”

I’d already finished an entire slice of toast with all the toppings, and it began to hit my stomach all at once, making me a little nauseous. That was the only reason I felt queasy, I told myself. “Again, no different from before.”

“Are you sure?”

He stared at me, and I stared back at him. He looked more tired than usual this morning, even though late nights were a regular thing for him and had been since forever. I still blinked first, conceding.

“What do you want me to say, here?” I asked, getting really fucking tired of whatever it was he was trying to pull at this point. He clearly wanted to hear something specific out of my mouth, but it was too damn early in the morning for his mind games. Thankfully, he then decided to get to the damn point.

“I would have preferred it if you’d said it was upsetting.” He said. “That it was simply so horrifying you’ll never kill again. Not that I want you to be upset, but it would be nice if you didn’t derive any catharsis or pleasure from murder.”

Oh, was that all?

“It was more like an execution, but sure, I really didn’t feel much of anything.” I lied. Well, it was a half-lie. I was scared, but it was less because I killed the bastard, and more because someone really wanted me dead. “Nothing at all?” He asked again, firmly, twirling his fork absentmindedly between his fingers.

I set my fork down to take a sip of juice. I wasn’t going to be able to give him a satisfying answer unless I was honest, but I didn’t need him to find out about the bounty on my head, so… “I mean,” I paused again, considering my words carefully, “Look, yeah, it was kinda scary in the moment, adrenaline and all, but… right now? I don’t really feel anything anymore.”

He followed me and had a sip of juice as well, contemplating my answer before asking another strange question. “Do you feel empty?” He asked. “Unsatisfied. Like you hadn’t done enough to him, or… that you lost a part of yourself.”

What the hell was he on about now. 

“Uh… no? To both.” Well, I guess I did feel a little… numb, now. Almost. It was hard to describe the feeling, but it was similar to how I felt not long after Brutus had been shot. A numbness that felt heavy, holding back the weight of emotions that threatened to break my composure. A temporary dam to hold back the tears, strong and unable to crumble until I’ve found some privacy again. “That’s… really specific. Got something you wanna tell me?” I asked, only half joking.

“Perhaps I should.” He said, and set his fork and knife down for now. Oh, this had to be important if he was going to let his food get cold over it. I continued to eat quietly as he spoke.

“I was younger than you are when I first killed a man. Much younger, I believe I was thirteen, possibly fourteen. I used to practice all the time with my father’s gun, shooting rats and birds… sometimes people, but I never killed them…” I held back a grin as I imagined him taking potshots at random people with some peashooter. “...and by the time I was old enough to work for one of the families in Reno, I was very good at my hobby; enough to prove myself a capable marksman, at least. There wasn’t much work for a boy at that age to do besides deliver messages and products, but I wanted to avoid all that. Killing full-grown men seemed the safer choice, if you can believe it.”

My father rarely ever talked about his past. His life back in Reno wasn’t one he liked revisiting, so I listened closely, enraptured. I knew he’d probably never repeat this story again, so I needed to dedicate it to memory. I’ll worry about how he’s trying to use it against me later.

“Now that I think of it, I was definitely thirteen when I took the first job. I’d killed an addict that owed money to the family…” I was only now realizing he would never in a million years tell me which damn family he’d worked for. Maybe Fresno knew. “...out of it when I confronted him, I don’t know if he even felt it when I initially missed the first shot. I had grazed his ear before the second shot landed near the centre of his forehead. Not quite, but close enough to impress my new superiors. For the first year or so, I was only really called up to deal with such simple cases, no one particularly important, but…”

This is where it gets good, I can feel it.

“Then there was a family. Not a casino family, a real family. A father who was about to be on the run after trying and failing to rob his employers, a mother that was in on it, and two young sons that were none the…” I knew it. “...they were playing outside when I showed up. The father tried to defend himself by grabbing a shotgun off the wall, but he was old, and I was faster. He was down before the wife could draw her piece, and she only managed to add some holes to the wall before I shot her. I still remember, it was one in the chest, one in the neck. Even I’d never seen so much blood before. It must have been horrific for the boys to see. They didn’t go in right away, of course, they were just watching at me as I left. Probably too afraid to look.”

“And that’s when you stopped?” I asked. Maybe the boys tried to pay him back, maybe his superiors ordered him to finish the job…

“No.” He said, to my surprise. “Double the targets, double the pay… a whole five hundred caps. It was too tempting not to continue. I killed someone different at least once a month for a few more years, just until I had made enough to leave Reno for good.” He picked up his fork and knife again, and I frowned, thinking that was all. “I always thought it would get easier. It didn’t. But it always left me feeling… empty. Which is why I wanted to know how it made you feel.”

Right, this was probably his idea of father-son bonding, or maybe he wanted to make sure I wasn’t going crazy. And I guess because killing people was something he felt like he had to do to survive, there was no reason for me to do it at all. This was all part of the narrative in his head that anything he had to go through, I should never even know about let alone experience. There’s good but misguided intentions in there somewhere, probably.

“Really didn’t feel any different from the first time.” I admitted, deciding to try and top his story. It was true, but not something I’d ever told him about before. Part of me relished in him finding out I’ve always been as much a killer as he was.

He only glanced at me as he continued to eat. He was surprised, he definitely didn’t know, but he didn’t want to make eye contact anymore. Maybe he was upset. Maybe he was already judging me. It wasn’t going to stop me from sharing my own story now.

“I was definitely fourteen.” I went on. “I remember ‘cause it was after my birthday party and I wanted to play more card games. But you made me go to bed at one o’clock in the morning, so I ended up sneaking out. But, see, I couldn’t play in any of the casinos since they’d just tell me to go back to bed on your orders, so I went just outside of Freeside’s gate.”

He definitely hadn’t heard this story before. He was listening intently, despite not looking at me at all. I had to make this sound good.

“I went alone, just had the gun you gave me.” Already hard to believe, I know; I wasn’t really comfortable leaving the Strip alone, not without Brutus at least. “I found a group of Scorpions just hanging around, drinking whatever, smoking I don’t even know, playing cards. Blackjack, poker, three-card Monte, anything they knew, right? I had a ton of caps, so of course they let me join in. And since you and Cal had already taught me how to play, there was no way I could lo–”

“Who shot first?” He asked, trying to force me to get to the point with an odd sharpness.

I scowled. Didn’t he know anything about storytelling? It’s all about the details, the build-up, the tension. But he was almost done eating now. I huffed. “I won too much and the guy across from me snapped.” I muttered, then cleared my throat. “He was yelling at me, demanding his caps back, but I didn’t wanna give them back. I won. I told him to fuck off and he pulled a gun on me. And he shot first.”

“In your shoulder.” He said quietly, suddenly remembering something, finally looking at me. “You never told me, but I had heard about it. You went to the Fort, when the Followers still occupied it. You must have thought I wouldn’t find out you received treatment there.”

I didn’t. I had no idea he’d found out. I didn’t even have a scar and those doctors swore confidentiality, so who the hell told him? He didn’t even mention it after the fact. “You knew?”

He hummed, and set his fork and knife down, but made no move to get up. He was waiting for me to finish, at least. How polite.

“So, he shot first.” I went on. “He was on something, all clumsy and shit, missed when he should’ve nailed me. Didn’t even hit my right shoulder. I mean, it slowed me down, but not enough for any of them to stop me from shooting right back.”

That had been an unintentionally perfect shot. I wasn’t even looking when I raised my gun, but when I took the shot, there was a split second where his body was still upright. Frozen in place, much like his comrades, staring right at me with dead eyes as blood seeped from a hole in his forehead, before his body fell forward, the dead weight crushing the cardboard box that had been a makeshift card table. Just a foot away from me, I got the perfect view of the back of his head, exit wound having blown his skull wide open. I didn’t know handguns, even powerful ones, were capable of that.

“And it left you feeling numb?” My father asked again.

In the moment, I think it did. Something between numb and scared. I had run away, back into Freeside, straight to the Fort ‘cause I was still too scared of getting caught. More than I was scared of being out there, at the time. I had nightmares about him for years, I still do sometimes, and I remembered him when I shot Rocco. I haven’t even stepped outside of Freeside’s gates since. These feelings, fears, were too complicated to convey to him. We didn’t talk about deeper things like that. “Yeah.” I said simply, and left it at that.

He didn’t ask any other probing questions, and I didn’t feel like telling anymore stories. He’d gotten up to start washing the dishes, and I finished what was left on my plate before giving it to him.

“We ran into Vera and Lun while we were on Fremont Street.” He said as he began to scrub my plate with a sponge. “They asked about you. I told them you were doing well. Vera wanted me to let you know that she misses you.”

Vera was the closest thing I had to a friend my age. We met when we could barely walk after my father arranged a play-date with hers. He had been concerned that I was missing out by not socializing with other children, but he also didn’t want me to associate with any of the typical street urchins. It turns out not many families were interested in having kids in the new raider capital of the world, and she was literally our only option. But despite growing up in Freeside, she was what I considered to be the last classy lady in the whole city… or close enough, at least. I thank her fathers’ paranoia for making her somewhat shut-in and my own class rubbing off on her over the years.

She only officially became my girlfriend two years ago. It only made sense; we were the same age, she was the only girl I liked (or at least tolerated), and she was pretty enough that we looked good as an item. As soon as there’s a good enough reason to, I’ll likely propose to her and maybe that’ll be enough to convince her to move out of that pit.

“I’ll call her.” I said quietly. I may have forgotten she even existed in the last week, but who could blame me? I was mourning. She’d understand. “I could use a distraction.” I added, quieter.

I waited until it was nearly ten in the morning before I made the call. Late enough that there was no way she wouldn’t be awake, but early enough that if she had any plans, she probably wouldn’t have left home yet. Not that she would have any plans; she didn’t exactly have much to do without me. All she did was help her fathers run their restaurant, and in her free time she mostly went out and about, despite how much everyone around her preferred she stay in where it was safer.

The phone in my room was pristine, but I always had to take a moment to brush off a thin layer of dust whenever I needed to use it. I only ever used it to call her; all other calls I just made on the suite’s main phone. I didn’t need privacy to order room service. 

I'm reaching for the phone when it rings first, the blaring bell drawing a startled squeak out of me before I can take the phone off the hook to make it stop. I almost thought Vera had the same idea and thought to call first before I brought the phone closer and spoke. "Yes?"

"They're not happy about Rocco." Cal said, though he sounded more annoyed than worried. "Honestly, neither am I. That was one of the dumbest things I’ve ever seen you do."

"Tell me something I don't know." I muttered, and laid back on my bed as I continued. "Look, I'm really not in the mood for a lecture, keep it short. I've got a call to make."

There was silence for a moment, and a little whisper of a sound that could only be an exasperated sigh from the other end of the line, with the receiver kept at an inaudible distance. Then his voice returned, loud and clear. "New rules, kid. You're not going anywhere anytime soon. Consider yourself grounded until further notice."

"Grounded?" I balked. "I’m an adult. My father could ‘ground’ me and I wouldn't listen to him, why would I listen to you?"

"Are you fucking dense?" Cal snapped in a way that made me glad we weren't having this conversation in person. Before I could further consider the stupidity of my response, he continued. "Have you already forgotten what your would-be assassin told you? Someone has it out for you and there’s nothing stopping him from just hiring another Jackal. Hell, the Jackals probably wouldn’t even ask for half as much after today.”

I knew he was right, I just really didn’t want to think about death right now. I just wanted to call my girlfriend and pretend the last several days hadn’t happened at all. I missed when the only things on my mind were how we were gonna blow Fresno’s caps and whether Brutus should have a Brahmin or Bighorner steak, too afraid of looking stupid to ask what the difference even was. There were no would-be assassins in the back of my mind just a week ago.

“You killing Rocco made the trail die.” Cal continued when I didn’t say anything. “I have absolutely no leads now. Just… ‘a man in a suit’. So do me a favour and just stay home while I figure something out.”

I blinked at the ceiling. “Figure what out?” I asked.

“Who the hell wants you dead, obviously.”

“A lot of people, I think.” I said, quietly. I don’t really know why I said that, it was just a funny feeling that came out of nowhere. Very few people actually liked me, because I liked very few people. It wouldn’t surprise me at all if many wanted me dead. Too bad for them, then. “Why? You have any ideas? You said the trail’s dead.”

There was a pause before he spoke up again. “Yeah, I do.” Cal said. “But mostly just a hunch.”

I sat upright on my bed, crossing my legs childishly. “What kind of ‘hunch’?” I demanded. “You should really just leave the overthinking to me.” Cal said. “But… fine. Don’t blame me if you get nightmares. Just think for a second, what would happen if you died right now?”

My father would be devastated. So would Vera. Cal, too, I imagine. But no one else would mourn me, not personally. The city would have lost one of its most important residents, but I had no other friends to speak of. “I dunno. What?”

“Not much. Sorry. But the only people who would know that for sure would be the people who actually live around here. The ones who’ve seen how you and Fresno act around each other. Or, more importantly, how you avoid each other. But to an outsider who only knows of you by name, it might be reasonable to assume the Courier of New Vegas was close to their kid. Would be real upset if he died. Might even weaken their hold on the city.”

Oh. That almost made sense. It was hard to imagine anyone thinking Fresno would do anything but party upon hearing of my death, but if someone really didn’t know anything about us, well…

“I don't wanna make you paranoid, but I have a feeling whoever is behind this has, let's say, political motivations. Twenty years is a long time to keep Vegas and the Dam out of reach. I can think of at least one party that's bide their time long enough and feels the need to start chipping away at the Mojave again from the inside out. So like I said, just stay indoors where it's good and secure away from any windows and you'll probably be fine. At least wait until I get in touch with some old contacts, alright?” He asked, his voice softening a little like it used to whenever he tried to explain to me why I couldn't do something stupid; like stand on top of the Tops’ courtyard wall or tell a raider to go away because I didn't like looking at him.

“...okay.” I said, only to placate him. “But who do you think it is?”

His hesitation told me that he didn't want to tell me, because he couldn't control what I did with that information. But he still told me anyway, if reluctantly. “I haven't felt much movement from out West in a long time. It's almost too quiet. And I know the Republic is still bitter about Fresno kicking them out of the Mojave. But again, it's just a hunch. Go ahead and make your call, I've got a few of my own to make.”

The low droll of a dead line played in my ear, and I returned the phone to its hook for a moment. I could listen to him and just stay home, but the thought of staying in my room with nothing but my thoughts made me want to shoot myself (good thing I still don't have my gun, I suppose), so I called Vera anyway. The dial whirred gently as I spun it ten times, once for each number and the speaker buzzed softly as it began to ring.

Her family’s phone, to my memory, was barely functional, and kept together with duct tape and glue. Sometimes it’d stay broken for a week or so until her fathers had the right parts to repair it again. If I could commend them for anything, it was that they were slightly more resourceful than the usual Freeside rabble, but it helped that one of them came from a Vault where he had the privilege to be taught how to read technical manuals. Broken or functional, her phone always took an agonizing minute to even start ringing, but fortunately for me she was too eager to let it ring for long.

“Auguste?” Her voice chimed in after half a ring, her delight always audible through the static of the horrendous reception. She knew it was me because no one else had any reason to call her family at this time of day. Unfortunately, she also sounded incredibly worried, and I knew I had to control the subject before she could ask how I was feeling. “Vera, dear, I’m glad I caught you.” I said before she could go on. “Listen, I…” I couldn’t act like everything was fine. I had to at least act sorry or something. “I apologize for not calling you sooner, I-”

“It’s okay.” She said, cutting me off. She rarely did that, but I forgave her. “You don’t have to say anything.”

I couldn’t help but relax a little. I knew she would say all of this, act like I’ve done absolutely nothing wrong and needed to be coddled, and that’s because she knows nothing. She knows my dog died and that it made me a very sad boy. And that’s all she needed to know. “Thank you.” I said quietly, and pretended to think for a moment before speaking again. “I… I just wanted to know if you’re free tomorrow?”

Today was too soon. “I was going to work, but I’ll get out of it.” She said, and I swear I could hear her smile. “Where did you want to meet up?”

“Oh, I’ll just come pick you up.” I said. I never liked the thought of her going around the city all by herself, even if she was armed. Her fathers and I had that in common. “We can just decide where to go from there. Eleven o’clock?” Perfect for late brunch.

“That’s perfect.” She said. “I’ll see you tomorrow, sweetie.”

A pet name I tolerated rather than liked, and only in private. When we were kids we could talk over the phone for hours, but now I could hardly stand it. I needed to see her in person every time. I liked her voice, but I preferred hearing it without the fuzz, and I loved looking at her. Watching her whether she was telling me about some bizarre encounter in the restaurant or listening to me talk about something more important. I could count on one hand the number of people I actually enjoyed being around, and she was one of them. 

So, I said my goodbyes and hung up. And with nothing else to do until tomorrow, I decided to make the most of my time by sleeping the day away, too exhausted to avoid having any nightmares.

#fnv #fonv #fallout new vegas #falloutfun #fnv fanfiction #oc: auguste/augustus #oc: callipho #oc: valoire

[dreamingofep]

Sinned Awakening pt. 13 🩸🩸🩸

An AU Elvis fic

(Vampire!Elvis/Vampire Austin!Elvis × reader)

Character/Fandom: Elvis - Elvis (2022)

Request: No

Prompt: Getting promoted to be Elvis full time housekeeper, you realize the man holds secrets beyond belief and your undeniable attraction makes you fear the unknown. [Fem!Reader]

TW: Cussing, tension, angst, physical/ verbal abuse, smut, sub/dom play, mentions of blood/gore 🩸

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 9K

A/N: Hello everyone!

Welcome to part 13! Twists and turns are coming your way and hope you like this chapter. I loved writing this portion and hope you do too. I was so conflicted on how to end this part because I could have easily kept going! So prepare for the next chapter to answer some very important questions that have been weighing on reader's mind...

A reminder, this is Vampire!Elvis so there is going to be mentions of blood/gore from here on out. If that's not your thing, sorry but it's needed for the story.

If you'd like to start from the beginning, start here 🩸

I hope you enjoy and message and comment what you think!🖤

You manage to put on some pajamas and lay down for a bit, trying to subside the dizziness that’s in your head. You knew that none of this was going to be easy and you needed to show him patience. You were glad he opened up to you more, it showed he trusted you. The spinning head wasn’t going away and you stumble to the bar to get a bottle of water and drink as much as you can to help you get less inebriated. The need for sleep made you collapse back on the bed and close your eyes as soon as your head hit the pillow. With everything that’s been happening, you haven’t gotten the best sleep lately, and knew that wasn’t good for you. You had to take better care of yourself. You let yourself fall into a deep sleep and weren’t worried if you missed the after-party.

*

You can hear the suite getting filled with loud voices and you lazily stretch underneath the blankets. You’re slightly confused as to how you ended up underneath the blankets and all but you shouldn’t be surprised that it was probably Elvis who checked on you and did this. You wanted to get out there and mingle with the rest of the party. It was well after two a.m. and you got a really decent nap in. There wasn’t going to be anyone you knew at the party so that left you with having to be with Elvis most of the night. In all honesty, you liked it that way. At least you didn’t have to be on edge and just got to enjoy the night.

You put on another outfit that is very eye-catching with a lower cut halter neck dress that accentuates your body well and is a bit shorter than what you would normally wear. You liked how it made you feel though; powerful and sexy. You freshen up your makeup and put on some red lipstick. There was something about tonight that made you feel new and confident. Maybe it was because Elvis was actually trying and was listening to you for the first time since knowing him. You also make sure your hair falls on the left side of your neck, covering the bruise there. It wasn’t as noticeable today and thankfully it was disappearing but you still didn’t want any questioning eyes to see it. 

Putting on a pair of heels, you make your way out into the main area of the suite. Music fills the air and lively chat buzzes among the crowd. You feel dozens of eyes and you feel your cheeks redden. You make a beeline to the bar and get some more water. Trying to get through the bustling crowd, you find an easy path along the window and gaze out at the dazzling city beneath you.

The city was stunning, with thousands of lights shining in this otherwise dark lonesome desert. Every blinking light of a hotel’s marquee made your eyes grow in awe. You had never seen the city like this. You never had the luxury of staying in a hotel here in Vegas. You were only able to work in one and now things were different. Everything felt different. Your life because of Elvis was just like this view. Dazzling and star strikingly beautiful. Whatever it was, you felt like you may be able to handle this newfound world you have found yourself in and might be able to handle having Elvis in your life. It felt right to have him there with you and you wanted to keep it that way.

Your daydreaming gets interrupted when you feel a tap on your shoulder. It was Jerry again, cracking a smile at you before speaking. 

“He wants to see you,” he informs. 

“Mhmm, where is he?” 

“He’s by the front door, I’ll take you to him,” he says before turning to make his way through the crowd. 

You bump and push your way through the sea of people until you finally see him sitting in his normal chair looking breathtaking as usual. He looked like he just got out of the shower, his hair still slightly damp but brushed back to show his beautiful face. 

He once again wore black pants, a black button-up with white cherry blossoms running up it, and a silver belt with turquoise on it. He knew exactly how to dress to make himself look more attractive than humanly possible. You can’t take your eyes off of him, so in awe of his presence.

He stands up when he sees you, smiling at your new outfit. 

“Hi darlin’,” he coos. You blush at his words and look up into those soft eyes. You don’t think you’ll ever be able to not blush when he calls you a pet name. 

“Hi,” you say softly. 

“How do you look even better than the last time I saw you?” He says cheekily. He steps closer, going to hug you but restrains himself and puts his arms back by his side. 

You smile at the small gesture of control and grab his arms and wrap them around your waist. You too wrap your arms around his neck, feeling the soft tresses at the base of his neck, and twist them around your finger. 

“You can hug me, it’s okay,” you tell him, watching his mouth form into a soft smile. 

He pulls you in closer, running his hands along your back. 

“Mmm, thank you. I needed this,” he whispers, placing a kiss on the top of your head and smoothing the back of your hair with his hand. 

“How did your shows go?” You ask looking up at him, still holding him against your chest.  

“They went well. The crowds were really loud tonight it was amazing,” he gushes. 

“That’s great honey. Any panties get thrown at you tonight?” You tease. 

He laughs at your silly question and shakes his head. “Yes, quite a few but you know I don’t care for that. If it was you throwing them at me, that would be a different story,” he quips, biting his lip as he looks over you. 

You can’t help but smile at his cheeky comment and place your finger on his lips. 

“You’re being bad. You said you’d be good,” you quip. 

“Hmm, what a terrible thing to make me promise. I guarantee you like me when I’m on my worst behavior too,” he smirks. 

“Occasionally…” you jest, pushing him away from your body. You can tell he doesn’t like that you pushed him away but tries to not make a fuss about it. 

“Sit down honey, please,” he gestures to the seat behind him. You gladly take a seat but don’t sit all the way back in the chair, looking up at Elvis as you cross your legs. You watch as his eyes gravitate toward your exposed legs with the dress cinched up when you sat down. You attempt to pull down the dress to cover a bit of your thighs and he looks at you amused. 

“What are you looking at?” You ask mischievously. 

“Nothing,” he smiles. 

“What are you thinking about then?” You prompted. 

“Nothing good I assure you,” he teases. “ Just looking at those pretty legs of yours.”

“Mmhmm, figures,” you quip, hitting the side of his leg and shaking your head at him. 

Someone brings you a glass of champagne and you take a sip, you normally don’t like champagne but you decide to try it for the fun it. You take a sip and love the fizzy taste of it in your tongue. The more sips you take the more you like it. You realize you haven’t ever had good champagne before. You remember you tried some for your twenty-first birthday and it was the cheap kind at a restaurant down the street from here and it was awful. This was the complete opposite and you liked it. 

You suddenly hear Elvis chuckling to himself and shoot him a confused look. 

“What are you laughing at?”

“You. I’m going to have to carry you to bed after this hmm?” He taunts. 

“I’m not going to let it get that out of hand,” you tell him snickering. 

“Okay baby whatever you say,” he mumbles. “How was your nap?” He continues. 

“It was quite nice and drank plenty of water. Woke up feeling good as new,” you wink. “How are you feeling?” 

“Very good. I haven’t had any cravings… so I think that’s a good thing so far,” he cracks a smile telling you this. He carefully tucks your hair behind your ear, making sure to not make too much contact with your skin. 

“I’m glad you made it to the party. I thought you for sure would be out for the rest of the night,” he chuckled. “Did you do anything else while I was gone?” He says, his voice slightly accusatory. 

You knew he knew what was going on after that kiss. The alcohol got to your head and your body betrayed every last ounce of control that you had. It seemed you also needed to work on your control with him. You were going to blame it on the alcohol and the ungodly amount of sex appeal that was dripping off of him wearing that black velvet suit. How you wish you could have torn it off of him and have him do countless naughty things with you.

You look up at him with innocent eyes and a smile, “nothing much. Definitely not anything you wanted to see,” you quip. He blinks at you dumbfounded, a smile creaking out from those soft lips.

A rumble forms in his chest and and looks around the crowd then moves in front of you, blocking you from everyone else in the room. He uncrosses your legs and spreads them slightly, his hands burning on your skin the tighter he squeezes them and pushes you back in the chair. He props his bent knee in between your legs and takes your chin in his hand. 

“Do you have any idea how hard you make all of this on me? You ask me to have control around you but it’s literally impossible. Because you are the world's biggest tease. The way you look, the way you smell…it all beckons me to come and ruin you,” he growls, pushing the top of his thigh to your core. 

You suck in a sharp breath as you feel the added pressure there, looking down to see his hand carefully scrunching up the material of your dress, exposing your panties to him. He smugly looks down at you, placing both of his hands on the chair’s arms, and hunching over you. 

You know he’s doing everything to try and gain control but this is exactly what can’t happen. You can’t have him take a chance of him losing control with you. 

“A taste of your own medicine then…I know I’m making it difficult… but you can’t always get your way with me.” You protest. His eyes grow dark as he looks at you, looking over you with hunger. 

He puts more pressure on you making you groan, 

“Is that so… how unfortunate for you. Because I always get what I want,” he grumbles. 

You have to fight every urge to pull him into the bedroom with the way he’s looking at you.  

Your breathing begins to quicken and your eyes wander down his body. Your fingertips graze over his chest, down his torso, and stop when you reach his belt. He stares at you with caution and you proceed to graze his bulge, making him take a sharp breath. 

“Well then, tonight will be the first night you stay dissatisfied,” you say running your fingers back up his body. 

This only makes him more frustrated and he begins to rub the top of his thigh on your core more. You let a gasp escape your mouth, unable to hide how good the friction feels. 

“And you say I lie too much. Look at yourself, lying to me right now. Fighting every last drop of need you have for me,” he coos, his voice like smooth honey in your ear. Your hips involuntarily buck up on him and your legs squeeze around his, letting out a pleased groan when he watches you do this. Just his voice alone has you wet and aching for him.

“Mhmm, look at you, trying to ride my thigh, you naughty, naughty girl. Not keeping your promises now hmm,” he teases. 

“Elvis, please. I’m human, with human desires… this is just cruel what you’re doing. Not to mention, in a room with dozens of people,” you sigh, feeling his leg move again, making your eyes roll back. 

“I’m being good. I would love to have my fingers stuffed inside you but I don’t. Having the utmost control right now,” he grins, rubbing his thumb along your bottom lip. You groan at him, unable to fight the need you have for this man.

“Goddamn it… you just have to have everything your way don’t you?” You grumble, feeling the wetness in your panties begin to pool. You buck your hips again, grinding onto him and you bite your lip, holding back a deep groan. 

“It’s so much better when it’s done my way, honey,” he snickers, caressing your face and making you grow weaker by the second. Those blue eyes pierce into yours and you put your hand back on his belt, pulling his hips closer. 

“You’re not going to get to touch me. No matter how much you tease. You need to prove to me you have enough control over your thirst,” you sigh. 

You keep grinding your hips onto his leg and bite your lip looking at him. Your hand squeezes his bulge and he lets out a loud groan. You rub your hand along his length and he looks down at what you’re doing. 

“Fucking hell woman. You better stop,” he reprimands. 

You keep teasing, rubbing him more, liking to hear the moans escaping his lips as your hips move on him. You shake your head no at him and continue to taunt him. Your breathing quickens and your core begins to throb. You pull at his pants button and look up at him deviously. 

“Your pants are looking a little tight. How bad would it be if I unzipped them a little?” You tease. His hand tightens on the chair's arm and his chest heaves. 

“Very. Very bad. To the point where you’d leave me no choice but to pin you down with your face against the sheets and fuck you all night.” He says through his teeth. Your heart gallops at that salacious thought, knowing he would do such a thing to you. 

You stare up at him, your eyes unwavering and your fingers push the button on his pants, sliding the zipper ever so slowly. He looks down at your hand and groans softly. 

“Excuse me, Elvis, we have a problem,” one of his men announces a few feet away. 

His entire body stiffens when he hears the voice. He grumbles frustrated and throws daggers at you when he zips and buttons his pants again before turning around. You quickly straighten out your dress and proceed to look with curiosity at what is going on. 

“What could possibly be so important,” he growls, straightening out his stature and his chest heaving, making him look menacing. 

“He’s looking for her, sir. He’s causing a commotion downstairs.” He says matter of factly. 

Elvis turns around to look at you, anger blaring in his eyes. 

You stand up quickly, “Do you mean Daniel? He’s here looking for me?” You ask hesitantly. 

The man nods his head at you then looks back at Elvis, “What do you want us to do?” He asks him. 

“Let me take care of it. If I’m the one he wants to see, let me tell him to leave,” you say quickly before Elvis can answer. 

“Absolutely not, I’m not letting him anywhere near you,” he growls. 

“I guarantee you, he won’t go away, so let me just tell him to leave me alone for once and for all.” You say sternly. Elvis clenched his jaw and looks disapprovingly at you. 

“I’m going down there with you then. I’m not taking any chances,” he seethes. 

“Fine but stay out of sight. I don’t want him to make a bigger scene if he sees you with me,” you instruct. 

You know he doesn’t like it but he nods his head and agrees. You both make your way to the elevator and nerves make your stomach turn as it makes its way down to the lobby. You had no idea what you were walking into but knew Daniel was not going to be happy at all. You knew he had a bad temper. Regardless of whether he was drinking, he could light off like a bottle rocket. You’re sure he saw all your things gone and not to mention the cut telephone lines and was going to demand an explanation.

The ding of the elevator makes you jump out of your skin and Elvis steps in front of you before you’re able to step out. You look into his eyes, they look like they’re on fire and his intense energy makes you shiver.

“I’ll be right here, I can be there in a flash if you need,” he assures. You nod your head and he steps aside and you make your way through the busy lobby. You walk cautiously, scanning the crowd until you see the back of Daniel’s head by the front revolving doors of the hotel. A couple of Elvis’ men are behind him keeping an eye on him. 

“What are you doing here?” You bark, taking quick strides towards him. Seeing him here makes your blood boil and you want him away from you as quickly as possible. 

He turns around and is shocked at what you’re wearing. He scoffs at you and makes a few steps toward you. 

“I could ask you the same question. I come home to find your closet completely empty. I deserve an explanation!” He says, raising his voice louder at you. 

“I already told you. I’m done. You’ve cheated countless of times on me and I don’t love you anymore,” you seethe. 

He looks at you in shock, his face not hiding any emotion from you. 

“How could you say that?! After everything you’re just going to leave me?” He grumbles.

“Absolutely. And it’s one of the easiest things I’ve ever done,” you seethe.

“You’re unbelievable. Where would you even go? You couldn’t afford a place here by yourself,” he spats. Anger boils within you and you can’t hide any of your feelings anymore. 

“Here with Elvis. He’s letting me stay with him,” you throw in his face. 

His face suddenly turns gaunt and stares at you mortified. 

“You can’t stay with him. You have no idea what he’s capable of,” he whispers, taking a few steps toward you. You look at him confused and don’t say anything right away. 

Does he know? How the hell does he know what Elvis is?

“I know he’s capable of empathy, something you lack. At least he cares that I’m around,” you spat. 

He starts laughing, covering his mouth with his hands, and looks at you in shock. 

“Oh I see what’s going on here, he’s giving you attention and you think he’s going to keep you around? You have no idea what he’ll do to you once he gets tired of you,” He says menacingly. You’ve had enough of his crass behavior and ball your fists at your side, taking slow breaths from your nose before speaking again.

You regroup and give him a snide little smile, shaking your head at him, “oh honey, he gives me a lot more than just his attention,” you insinuate, watching his face turn mortified yet again, “I go to him begging for things you could never give me,” you say through your teeth. 

Daniel’s eyes light up and he looks at you in horror. 

“You’re not serious… You let that thing touch you,” he says disgustedly.

You smirk at him, “Yeah, and I can’t get enough,” you taunt. He looks at you mortified and puts his hand on his forehead, backing up from you.

You stare at him in disgust, waiting for him to say anything else crass. Before you know it, he quickly lunges toward you and raises his hand, slapping you clean across your face. 

The pain of the slap radiates across your cheek and part of your nose. You grunt when the pain spreads more and you cover your cheek with your own hand. You stumble a bit, knocked by the force of his hand. You are in utter shock, in absolute disbelief he laid his hands on you like this. You see in the corner of your eye Elvis’ men start to lunge at him as you continue to stagger away.

“You stupid fucking bitch! Do you have any idea what he is?! What he can do-,” he yells at you but suddenly gets cut off mid-sentence.

You go to look up at him and in a blink, Elvis is in front of you, his body separating you two, and his hand is gripped tightly around Daniel’s neck. He gasps for air and claws at Elvis’ forearm. 

“You’re a piece of shit you know that?! How dare you even think of touching her! Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t snap your neck right here,” he seethes. You feel a hand pull you back from the two fuming men, turning to see it’s Jerry with concern in his eyes. You take a few steps back and tremble, not knowing what’s about to unfold before you. 

“You can’t … do this,” Daniel’s chokes out. 

Elvis cocks his head at him, “Do what? This?” He says as his hand tightens around his neck. Daniel grunts, gasping for breath. 

“You can’t compel… her to stay with you… you’re gonna kill her” he gasps. 

Elvis chuckles at him, “Oh you think I need to compel her to stay with me? You stupid fucking human,” he taunts. 

Daniel hits and pulls at his arm, needing to get air. He tries to twist his neck from Elvis’ grip but there’s no point. Elvis is too strong for him and it looks like he’s not even trying.

“Raphael isn’t going tolerate this. You… can’t keep her and draw more attention to yourself,” he rasps. 

“Go on and tell Raphael. Tell him how I have her all to myself and don’t plan on letting her go any time soon,” he snaps. 

“You’re gonna kill her if you do-,” he chokes out.

“I can take better care of her than you ever did, you pathetic excuse for a man.” 

You watch as Elvis puts his face inches away from Daniel’s, his eyes wide when he looks at Elvis. “I better not ever see you here again or I’ll make you bleed out slowly and painfully, wishing you had never seen my face,” Elvis snarls. 

He lets go of his throat and Daniel collapses into the floor, gasping and choking for air. 

“Y/n… y/n run… he can’t be trusted,” Daniel gaps out. 

“Get him out of here, NOW,” Elvis snarls at his men.

Elvis quickly turns to look at you and his eyes are bright red, anger radiating from his entire body. He quickly lunges for you and picks you up, moving too quickly for your brain to comprehend what is happening. 

You feel the rush of wind across your body and you hold onto his neck tightly, holding your breath not knowing what’s going on. 

He puts you back down on the floor and you open your eyes seeing that you’re back in the penthouse in his bedroom. You feel dizzy and have to get your bearings before you’re able to move.

He is beyond fuming, he looks like he’s going to go on a rampage. You see him with his back turned toward you and his shoulders rising and falling fast. 

“E-Elvis … what the hell is going on?” You ask scared. The entire penthouse is now quiet, you’re sure you could hear a pin drop and this gives you an eerie chill as you watch Elvis heave angrily. 

“He’s such a piece of shit. I should have ripped his head off you know that? Should have done it and rid one more awful soul on this earth. How dare he touch what’s mine!” he seethes. 

He grabs the lamp next to him and hurls it at the window making it shatter onto the floor. He quickly turns to his bedside and throws the books sitting on his nightstand, cussing and screaming in anger. You watch as his fists go flying up and hit the nightstand, making it crumble at his feet.

“Elvis stop that wouldn’t solve anything. You’re letting your anger get the best of you. You need to stop this right now!” you tell him.

“I don’t care, You’re mine! No one should touch you except me!” He growls possessively. He goes to the mirror and punches the middle of it, creating a circular shatter mark in it. You gasp when you hear the crunch of the glass shatter and are frozen with fear.

You look at him in the reflection of the mirror and he looks back at you with those gleaming red eyes and see his long fangs have extended. 

Shit. 

You back up, unsure of where to go but you know you need to give him space. 

“People like him don’t deserve a second chance. I should’ve shown him no mercy,” he hisses. 

“You need to calm down, please honey. Listen to me. It’s over now. I’m sure we won’t see him again,” you try to explain. 

“Oh no, he’ll be back. He’ll try to get Raphael to get rid of me,” he scowls taking long strides to get closer to you. 

“W-who’s that?” You ask shakily, backing up more to get away from Elvis’ fangs. 

“He’s the one that bit me. He’s the one I told you about that has a club here in town. He’s very powerful here,” he snarls. 

You don’t understand what is going on. All of this is happening so quickly and it makes your head spin, feeling sick to your stomach. 

“But how does Daniel know about him? Does he know what you are?” You ask. 

“He works for Raphael. Of course, he knows what we are. He wants to be turned, that’s the only reason he works for them. He thinks if he works for him long enough, he’ll turn him,” he vents. 

You gasp, utterly shocked by this information he’s given you. 

“What? Why?! Why would he ever want to be like one of you?” You ask. His face washes over with hurt and you wince once you realize what you just said. 

“Oh no, no I didn’t mean it like that!” You quickly reply but it’s too late. You’ve said what you said and you want to assure him with a touch of your hand but it probably isn’t the best idea. 

He puts up his hand to stop you from speaking and interrupts you. 

“Save it, I don’t want to hear it. But I’m sure he wants it for his own selfish reasons. The immortality, the ability to compel, the list goes on and on,” he snaps. 

You begin to tremble, scared over this whole situation, and stare at the towering vampire a few feet away from you. 

“What’s gonna happen?” You ask weakly. 

“I don’t know. We have rules. Not a lot, but a few important ones. If you turn a human, you become responsible for their actions. That’s why a lot of them band together and form little groups so the one that turns them can keep an eye on them. You brought them into this world in a sense and you are responsible for controlling them in a way.”

“But you haven’t done anything wrong…” you squeak out. He looks at you darkly, shaking his head.

“There’s things honey. Things I’ve done in the past that don’t make me a good man…” he trails off.

“What are you talking about?” You ask confused and a bit scared to find out the truth.

“I’ve told you, my thirst has always been an issue. When I got here in 1969, I overindulged, feeding on anyone that would come near me. I was making too much of an eyesore and people were beginning to question me… Afraid I was doing things that I shouldn’t be,” he explains. 

“That’s when I first found out Raphael was here and he had to warn me to get it under control. But I didn’t. I just became more inconspicuous about everything. I would feed too much on humans…where I almost bleed them dry. People were showing up to the hospitals with barely any blood left in them to function. Everyone got scared. People are scared of me y/n. People talk about me here with fear. As they should be,” he spits at you.

You take another step back as his red eyes stare at you intensely, looking at you like prey.

Your throat feels dry and you can’t make any words come out. That idea was terrifying, that he could let it get that out of hand if he wanted to. 

“That… that was years ago honey… You’ve changed. I know you have. I bled in front of you and you never went for my throat,” you say trying to calm him down.

“Those technicalities don’t matter. The point is I still have the same tendencies as before,” he growls, “humans aren’t even supposed to know about our existence. If he ever finds out I can’t compel you…that could be it for me. I’d be considered weak and a risk to all our kind…he could end me.” He pauses, his fangs have receded and he goes to you, his eyes still blood red. He reaches for his throat and rubs it uncomfortably, trying to swallow but it looks like it’s painful to do so.

End him? You’re too afraid to ask how something could end a vampire’s life but the thought petrified you. You couldn’t imagine Elvis getting hurt. The idea made you sick.

He turns to look at you and stands before you, reaching his hand out and you freeze, unknowing of what he’s going to do. He brushes back your hair on your neck exposing the faint bruise there. 

He makes a look of disgust and shakes his head, “Look at you, marked like some animal. I’m so sorry.” He grunts. 

His finger drags down across your chest and finds the seam of your dress where the v-cut ends. He doesn’t put much pressure on the dress for him to be able to tear it, exposing more of your breasts to him and showing the bruises he left with his mouth there. He grumbles when he sees the purple splotches, angry with himself for doing this. His fingertips lightly graze those bruises, sending a chill down your spine that tells every cell in your body to freeze.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry for doing this to you. I hurt you so easily-,” he says sorrowfully but you stop him from going on. 

“No, stop it. You’re not keeping me hostage and this was something I was okay with. Everything I’ve done with you was something I wanted to do. We just have to convince him that I’m with you under my own free will,” you say firmly but you see he’s not listening to you. 

“God I wish I could make you forget these last few weeks. Forget how I ruined your entire life and have you move on,” he says sorrowfully, not listening to what you’re saying at all.  

“I don’t! I don’t want to forget these weeks with you. They’ve been the most insane weeks of my life but I don’t want to forget and lose you,” you say. 

He looks down at you in sorrow, “I just don’t know if I’ll ever be able to control the thirst I have for you. It's an unparalleled amount and I can’t forget how you tasted,” he sighs as he looks over you hungrily. Your heart thumps nervously in your chest, unable to hide the nerves of being around him with those piercing red eyes.

“Just go to bed before I hurt you again,” he growls.

You look at him disheartened, hating that he’s trying to push you away again just when things get hard. He stares you down, making your skin crawl at how hot and intense his gaze is. You turn on your heel and slam the door behind you, surely making him more upset. 

You’re frustrated with his whole outlook on this. You know he can change, you see that he wants to but every time he’s tried on his own, he fails. Then he picks up on his bad habits and spirals downward. This time you felt it could be different because you were around. If what he says is true, and his feelings are that strong for you, he could change and control himself.

You start to head to your room and see that light is coming through the curtains, showing signs of the morning about to break. It feels like another sleepless dawn with nerves and anxiety and the thought of where you two were going to go made you a wreck. He was stubborn and set in his ways, constantly brooding that he couldn’t see past his mistakes. 

You get in the shower and clean your face from tonight’s makeup. Once you get out of the shower, you look at your face in the mirror and see the slap mark run across your face. You wince at the sight and feel it’s tender and pink. 

You hope to God you never see Daniel’s face again. You’re pretty sure you’d let Elvis hurt him and feel no remorse for it. Not after all of this. How he strung you along for years and was working for a slum of vampires. Was he ever going to tell you or would he just suddenly leave you and get bit? The thought boils your blood and hate that was even a path for you. 

In so many ways you needed Elvis. He made it complicated yes, but in so many ways he saved you. He saved you from a loveless relationship and one that would eventually be turned into a vampire, further causing more issues down the line. Elvis had to see the light that you saw within him. Elvis showed you a tender and loving side no man had ever shown you before. Your feelings for him were unparalleled to anything you had ever experienced. It was like something out of a book. All these emotions you were feeling were too strong and yet they were all real. 

That’s why you grew so frustrated with him. His broodiness made you so fed up with the whole situation. You wanted to give yourself completely to him but he always pushed you away just when he begged for you to do so five seconds ago. He gave you a complete whiplash these last few weeks and you needed to make him see the good within it all. The rough patches would smooth out and this whole thing with Raphael will get sorted, it just might take some time. You were determined to make him see and make him want better starting with himself. The rest you two could handle later on. You weren’t going to take no for an answer. 

It was late but you didn’t care. Anger radiated through you and you weren’t going to sleep til this was sorted. If you had to scream and yell at him all morning long, then that’s what you’d do. 

You quickly put on a nightgown and rush to the other side of the penthouse. You don’t bother to knock on his bedroom door. You’ve seen it all at this point that nothing is going to phase you of whatever he was doing in there. 

You quickly open the door and see Elvis on the floor, blood vials sprawled out on the floor all empty. He looks in your direction flashing his dangerous red eyes at you. 

“What are you doing in here,” he growls, his fangs showing when he speaks. 

You slam the door again behind you and go barreling toward him, unafraid of the sight before you. 

“Get up,” you yell, pulling him by his arm. He looks at you shocked, not used to your abrasive tone. He grunts and shakes his arm free from your grasp. 

“You should have stayed in your room,” he hisses.

“You’re not telling me what to do! I’m sick and tired of your piss poor attitude. If you want me gone just say so! ‘Cause that’s what you’re doing to me! You’re pushing me away!” You yell. 

You watch as his shoulders rise and fall when he looks at you, “No, I don’t want you to leave.” He grumbles. 

“Then act like it! I’m tired of hearing you telling me to go away!”

You look at the vials on the floor then look back up at him, “and what the fuck is going on here?”

“I’m fucking starved! You make me crave more blood than I have in a long time!” He growls at you.

“You’re blaming all of this on me?! Like I made you drink my blood?!” You shoot back at him.

“No, no that’s not what I meant. It’s my doing, not yours,” he growls.

“Let’s figure something out to help you not want to drain me,” you stressed. "There has to be a way."

“Baby… I’m no good. I can’t control this vile beast within me,” he says defeated.

“Stop that right now! There has to be a way,” you say frustrated.

“Yes there is… and that’s for you to stay away from me…” he says angrily.

Anger fills your veins and you push hard against his chest, staring into those intense red eyes while doing so, and push him toward the bed to make him sit down. He looks at you in shock, not understanding what you’re doing. You stand in between his legs, grabbing a fist full of his shirt in your hands. He hisses at your touch and winces, closing his eyes.

“Listen to me and don’t say a word you understand?!” You yell at him, getting close to his face, waiting for his response. He nods his head in agreement even though his eyes say otherwise. 

“I’m not going anywhere! You are going to stop feeling sorry for yourself. You can control this I’m sure of it. You’re not the monster you think you are. I don’t see you the way you see yourself,” you explain.

He has his eyes closed, not wanting to look at you. You pull his chin up to look at you.

“If I leave, I know you will find me in a matter of minutes and come begging for me to forgive you! Leaving is not an option. You said it yourself, you can’t get away from me,” you pause to make sure he’s listening.

“Look at me, now,” you beg. He finally looks at you and flashes those red eyes.

You sigh, “I trust you. You’re not going to hurt me, You’ve had plenty of opportunities if you were to do so. But you won’t. I don’t think you’re capable of hurting me,” You explain.

“Honey, please. How can you say that? After all of this? I can’t… I can’t have you touch me.” He sighs, trying to get your hand off his face.

“Yes, you can. You’re not going to hurt me. Would it really be easier for you to never see me again? You’d only crave me more,” You tell him, almost certain it's the truth.

Your fingers run through his hair and you place a kiss on the top of his head. He groans, keeping his hands on the tops of his thighs as you continue to touch him. His breathing rises and your hands run down his back, pulling him in for an embrace. He grumbles into your chest, being tortured by your heart’s pitter-patter so close to his mouth.

You grab his wrists and pull them away from his thighs.

“I know I said no touching me… but you need to trust how much control you have. You’re not going to hurt me, I know you won’t,” you say. You place his hands on your hips and he looks up at you.

“Why are you so good to me? I don’t deserve you,” He quivers, bringing his hand up to your torso, up the sides of you then back down, squeezing lightly at your hips.

You take a sharp breath in through your nose, reveling in the feeling of him touching you.

“Because I know. I know you’re good inside. I know you care about me deeply and would never hurt me. What you’ve done in the past, stays there. That’s not you anymore.” You grab his wrists again, pulling his hands upward against your torso, up to the swell of your breasts.

“I know these hands, won’t do anything bad but show me love… Is that right?” You ask. He sucks in a sharp breath through his teeth, squeezing your breasts firmly. He nods his head and looks at you sorrowfully. You smile at him, liking the way he’s listening. You move one of his hands up, making him wrap it around your throat and he grunts when you do so. You sigh too when you feel his hand on your neck, liking the slight squeeze he gives you. You want his attention to be stuck on you and know you have to keep going, you don’t want a word of rebuttal from him of how he’s no good.

For the first time ever, you have to be the dominant one and not let him get his way. No amount of pleading will get you to submit to him right now. He was the one that was going to have to submit to you. 

You bring his fingers to your mouth, placing a kiss on each fingertip, then down to the palm of his hand. His eyes are locked on you, watching your every movement as you continue.

You look at his eyes, holding him there in your gaze, and give him a little smirk for what you’re about to do. You bring his middle and ring finger to your mouth and lick the two digits, swirling your tongue on his fingertips. He groans, watching how your mouth moves on him. 

“Fuck…” he breathes.

You push his fingers more in your mouth, running your tongue along their length and taking them out of your mouth with a pop. He looks at you with his eyebrows furrowed, silently pleading for you to continue.

“Mhmm, and these fingers give me nothing but pleasure too?,” you grunt, leading his fingers under your nightgown and having him rub your clit ever so lightly. The warmth of you radiating onto his hand. He cusses your name, liking that he can touch you more.

“Yes of course,” he whimpers. 

You place his hand back on your hip and rub his bottom lip with your thumb. He places a kiss on it, pleading to let him do more than just sit here. 

“And this mouth… this mouth can only show me pleasure too…isn’t that right?” You ask, watching how he bites his lip as you ask him these questions.

“Yes baby, only for good I promise you,” he moans, peppering kisses on your palm.

You could crumble right here, watching how undone you’ve made this man. Your fingertips start to graze down his chest, working the buttons off of his shirt slowly.

“Good. I love that mouth too much,” you tease as your hands touch his chest. Your eyes continue to wander and see the growing erection in his pants. Your hand slowly grazes his length and he squirms at your touch. You look back up at him to still him and he freezes when you do so. 

His eyes are slowly turning a dark shade of blue and the veins by his eyes have slowly dissipated. You smile to yourself, liking how you’ve got him to focus solely on you and nothing else. You go back to touching him firmly, making a small groan when you feel how hard his cock is.

“And this… is this mine?” You ask, moving your hand more on him causing him to grunt. 

He looks down at what you’re doing, his hips rutting with your movements. He makes the most delicious-sounding moans you’ve ever heard and you could easily fall apart at his feet. 

“Yes. God yes it is. I’m all yours. Whatever you want you can have, baby,” he professes breathlessly.

Your cheeks redden by his words, not believing you have him this way. His usual dominance is melted away because of you and you have him in the palm of your hand, having him grind into you as he waits for your next direction.

You had to get him to listen. Show him that he has control with you.

“Whatever I want?” You ask coyly.

He nods his head at you, his eyes pleading, “Whatever you want. Please tell me and I’ll give it to you.” He groans, desperate for you, his hands squeezing your hips tight.

You pull at his arm to stand up and you lay on the edge of the bed, wrapping your legs around his torso and keeping him pressed against you. His eyes grow wide and his hands grab the back of your thighs to keep your legs up.

“Tell me, tell me how bad you want to please me,” you sigh, feeling his cock rest against your core. He grunts and pulls you against him more firmly.

“That’s all I want. I want to make you happy, to make you feel good.” He says with a grind of his hips into you.

You close your eyes, loving how even his words can turn you on.

“I know you do. You always do,” you moan. “Keep moving, you feel good like this,” you gasp and he rolls his hips again, grinding his cock onto your covered pussy.

“Yes, baby. I can feel how wet you are for me,” he grunts, moving his hips more.

You watch as he takes his hands off of your hips and starts to unbutton his pants. You grab his wrist quickly to stop him.

“No baby, keep them on.” You instruct. He whimpers at your instruction, not liking that he’s not getting his way.

“Oh please, baby. Please, I wanna feel you,” he begs, grinding into you more.

“You can later. Show me how well you can listen,” you tease. He lets out a frustrated grunt and nods his head. He moves his hips like it's second nature, conjuring new feelings you’ve never had before and always making you need more. 

“Please keep moving. Tell me what you want right now,” you instruct, rolling your hips into him, loving how good he feels.

“Fuck baby…I-I-I wanna stuff that tight pussy with my cock and make you say my name when you’re about to come undone,” he groans breathlessly. His voice makes your core throb and you want him to do all of that to you. His fingers delicately play with the seam of your panties, lightly pulling at the lace fabric and you hear it begin to tear.

 You pull his hands back on your hips, getting him to hold you tight there.

“I’d love that. You know how much I love getting fucked by you,” you say breathlessly, knowing your words too are going to drive him to the edge.

“Mhmm, I know you do. Because you’re mine. All mine,” he says as his hips continue to grind away onto your core. He bites his lip as he looks down at you, hunger washing over him but so focused on the task at hand.

“Yes, I am,” you pant. “Tell me what else you need.”

He groans out frustratedly, looking down at your hips meeting one another, wishing he could feel your naked body on his. He picks up one of your legs and bends it upward, spreading you wider.

“I want to pin you down on this bed, make you beg for my cock all night long. I love hearing you beg for me,” he grunts into your ear making your core throb.

“Fuck, yes. I want that too,” you moan. 

You make him take his hands off of you and you push him onto the bed again, getting on top of him quickly, pinning his hands by his head. His eyes are full of shock and he doesn’t say anything.

You sit back down on his covered length and grind into him, making your eyes roll back.

“I’m gonna come, baby. Watch me come,” you tell him as you feel the coil in your belly tighten by the second. He writhes underneath you, wanting to gain back control so badly.

“Ah, no baby, please. Let me be inside you. I wanna feel you,” he pants, his eyes big and pleading.

You shake your head at him, grinding on him more and more. 

“Why would you ever want that,” you tease.

“Ahh y/n please,” he whimpers loudly, tossing his head to the side with frustration.

“Elvis tell me,” you moan.

He groans and shuts his eyes, so sexually frustrated with this game your playing and very successfully winning.

“Because I love feeling you squeeze around my cock. I can’t help it. You were made just for me,” he moans. His possessive words ring in your ear over and over and you feel your body about to give out with him talking like this.

You place your hands on his chest and work your way to your orgasm, your jaw falling slack when you feel that familiar feeling of your coil snapping and your walls fluttering around nothing. You moan his name as you ride out your high, your hips still grinding into his cock. He suddenly cries out too, squeezing his eyes shut and his hips stuttering, then bucking up into you. 

That’s when you feel the wetness spread in his pants and this surprised look on his face forms. He cusses under his breath and places his hands on your hips, rocking you into him harder. You can feel your arousal seep out of your panties and onto his pants, creating a slick mark along where his cock is. You can’t catch your breath as you watch this man become completely unglued and writhing underneath you.

He looks down at your mess and chuckles, putting his head back on the bed.

“Holy fuck woman…”

“What are you laughing about hmm?” You giggle at him. He sighs heavily and bites his lip.

“I’ve just never come in my pants like this,” he says embarrassed.

“Well it's a first for everything,” you quip cheekily. You touch his face and he looks at you intently.

“I’ve actually never umm… had a woman ever tell me what to do like that… It was so… attractive,” he smirks at you.

Your heart leaps and you stare at him stunned, having been the first woman that ever made Elvis Presley submit to every last wish and desire.

“Are you serious? Never?” You ask.

He hums amused, “Never. I can usually make someone listen to me remember?” He quips cheekily.

“Oh, I see,” you say covering your mouth with the smile that’s forming on it. “Did you like me telling you what to do?” You ask softly.

He nods his head and gazes into your eyes, “yes I did. I’ve never been so turned on,” he quips. Your cheeks redden and you flash a smile at him. “Good, I’m glad. I want to do it again,” you tease, brushing his hair back that’s fallen on his forehead and look at his eyes.

“Look at yourself…your eyes… they’re so blue.”

He kisses the back of your hand and smiles at you, “I’m sorry for raising my voice at you. My temper got the best of me…I guess I do have a bit more control than I thought,” he hums.

You lay beside him, his arm wrapped around your body tightly. You let a comfortable silence hang over you two, liking how everything feels like it's going to be sorted out.

“I want to be with you, through the good and the bad. I want you, Elvis. Let me help you,” you say, rubbing his chest lightly.

He sighs at the feeling of your touch, “I want you too. I know we can make this work. I promise you,. I'm not letting anyone get between us,” he says tenderly.

You wrap your leg on him and cuddle into the crook of his neck, the scent of him filling your nose. You sigh and feel his hand run through your hair, gently caressing you. You feel at peace with him for once. 

The blanket of sleep starts to wash over you and you feel him pull the blankets and cover your fragile body. You hold onto him tighter, hoping he doesn’t leave by the time you wake up. Your body felt so tired, so emotionally battered that you felt like you needed to sleep for an entire week. There was a lot of unknown and the fear of what Raphael could do to Elvis scared you. But in this moment, none of that mattered. You were here in his arms, hearing his strange heart beat away for you.

Tagging 🖤:

@powerofelvis @burninlovebutler @neptuneismysister @velvetelvis @ccab @presleyenterprise @elvispresleyxo @loving-elvis

@prompted-wordsmith @sillybookmarks @dkayfixates @rosepresley @ellie-24 @rktismylife-blog @myradiaz @tacozebra051 @thatbanditqueen

@18lkpeters @flwrs4aust @emma181873 @austinswhitewolf @eliseinmemphis @everythingelvispresley @chasingwildflowers @idontwanttoputanything @ohjustpeachy @elvisalltheway101 @austinsmutler @kingdomforapony @generoustreemystic @kendralavon7 @lettersfromvenus @claire-elvisgirl

@ashtag6887 @burnthheparaphilia @richardslady121 @jaqueline19997

@returntopresley @iloveelvis @rjmartin11 @that-hotdog @louisejoy86 @misspresley @cattcb @annapresley8 @arrolyn1114 @raginginkedslut @epthedream69

#elvis presley #elvis presley fanfiction #elvis presely smut #elvis presley x reader #elvis presley x you #elvis presley x y/n #elvis imagine #elvis smut #70s elvis #vampire elvis #elvis fic #elvis au #sinned awakening #samfangirls

[storiesofsvu]

Heavy Hearts Ch 15

Warnings: language, alcohol and drug consumption, manipulation/emotional abuse slowly starting, some mentions of sexual situations.

 It wasn’t a surprise the next morning when you and Brock were finishing up breakfast that Eleanor came barrelling into the guest house all excited about your doctor’s appointment. She had a smoothie in her hand, one that she insisted you drink, full of all the proper antioxidants of course. The entire drive to the doctor’s office she was going on and on about all of her own pregnancy ‘hacks’ and things she had read on the internet recently and she didn’t stop until Brock finally snapped, telling her to be quiet. You couldn’t help but let out a little breath of relief, squeezing at his hand that was wrapped around yours in thanks. You were already doing your best not to freak out at the entire thing, you didn’t need Eleanor chanting in your ear about birth plans right now, that was months away. Right now was just the first ultrasound, making sure everything was going well and to get you on the right path to have a healthy baby.

You felt a wave of relief flow through you at the doctor’s words, knowing that whatever you’d been doing in the weeks before the positive test hadn’t done any harm and that things were looking good so far. The doctor ran a couple of other tests, wrote out a list of vitamins they recommended and left you with a date for your next appointment and a stack of pamphlets and book suggestions to answer any other questions in the meantime. Brock smiled brightly at you, ducking to press a kiss to your lips as you left the office, saying he’d be home for dinner before he disappeared into a car to take him off to work. Eleanor escorted you back to the other car and didn’t stop talking until you’d arrived back at the Lexington’s estate. You gave her a small smile, saying you were beyond tired and were incredibly thankful when she let you vanish into the guest house in peace.

As it turned out, you actually were pretty exhausted, after a quick snack you’d collapsed into bed and slept most of the afternoon. When you finally woke up you could hear someone clattering around the kitchen, the smell of food wafting through the house and that was enough for you to pull yourself out of bed, realizing you hadn’t eaten since the smoothie that morning and considering you were eating for two now, that probably wasn’t a great idea.

Padding down the hallway you felt your stomach grumbling already, surprised when you rounded the corner to find Brock in the kitchen instead of a housekeeper. He glanced up from the stove, a grin on his face as he greeted you,

“Hey sleepyhead.” His arm wound around your waist and you were too tired to push him away, letting his lips hit your temple, “you hungry?”

“Yeah.” You yawned, stretching out your body as an excuse to shift away from him, “smells amazing.”

“Well, I do have skills in other places than the bedroom you know.” He smirked and you held back an eyeroll, making your way around the island to take a seat, “those are for you by the way.” He gestured to a brown paper package along with a gift bag and your brow furrowed as you reached out, pulling it toward you, starting with what looked like a bouquet. You were right on the nose thinking it was flowers, an incredible bouquet that was a mix of red, pink and purple roses,

“Brock… these are gorgeous.”

“Gorgeous flowers for my gorgeous girl.” He grinned, flicking the burner on the stove off, letting the food rest for a minute as he pulled down a vase to pour some water in before helping you put the roses into it, “just thought you deserved something pretty.” He shrugged.

“Thank you.” Your gaze stayed on the flowers for a moment before drifting back to him, finally able to give him a soft smile, “they’re really nice.”

“They’re just the start.” He smiled back, turning around to plate up dinner, spicy Italian sausage and pepper pasta, asking what you wanted to drink before settling in at the island across from you with a beer.

Conversation was quiet at first, not that you had much to update him on, but once you’d asked about how his day at work was it started to flow easier. He was already high ranked in the up and coming political community and as the year wore on he would start his campaign for city council. He had enough to ramble on about to take over the rest of dinner, satisfied with the amount of times you interjected to ask a question, probe further or feign praise over his career. By the time you were both done eating he scooped up the plates, clearing the island and making sure everything was in the dish washer. He returned to the island to nudge the gift bag toward you,

“There’s more in there you know.”

“Brock.. you don’t have to buy my affection; you’ve kinda already got me locked in.” You groaned with half a tease and he laughed.

“Doesn’t mean I can’t spoil you.” He squeezed at your hand over the counter and you dug through the bag to find a couple of stuffed animals, finally pulling out a handful of catalogues of home furnishings. “I guess technically these aren’t for you, but I swung by a couple of places on the way home, I figured we should probably start thinking about the nursery.” He squeezed at your hand again, bringing it up to his lips to lay a kiss on the back of it.

“Yeah…” You replied, fingers tracing the outline of the crib on the front cover, feeling your stomach begin to churn at the thought of all of this being real and not some kind of fever dream nightmare.

“I mean, it’s either this or my mother hounding you with wedding catalogues.”

“Ugh.” You dropped your head into your hand, “no. This is way more important, and gonna happen before we know it.”

“I know.” He grinned across at you, “so how about we start to pick some pieces, I can make sure they get ordered right away.” He nodded toward the couch, picking up his drink so you could scoop up the catalogues and move into the living room.

This was happening, and you had to be prepared for it no matter what.

**

The nursery was beginning to be filled with boxes and bags of shopping, items to be put together, organized and decorated in the days to come. Some of it was ordered through catalogues or websites and some of it you wanted to see in person, to compare to other options available. Considering Brock was working even more hours now, you ended up strolling through stores with Eleanor, happy that you were able to distract her with baby stuff. You were thankful for your ability to block her out as she was clearly the person most excited for the baby to come, to have a grandchild finally, she rarely stayed quiet. She rambled on with stories from Brock and Archer’s childhoods, traditions that she wanted to continue on, she was about to start recommending private preschools to you when you stumbled into the crib section and she instantly got distracted.

You appeased some of her decisions and swayed her on a couple of others, reminding her of the planned theme for the nursery and the items you’d already bought and she’d quickly agree about not wanting things to clash. She loaded the cart up with an array of adorable onesies and toys, it was apparent this kid was going to be getting far too much spoiling from grandparents. After the third store you’d managed to find most of what you wanted and needed, at least for the start and she had the house staff take everything back to the house and dragged you out to lunch. Ending up on the patio at Ocean Prime where Eleanor indulged in caviar deviled eggs, prime steak tartare and probably too many cucumber gimlets while you poked and prodded at some lobster mac and cheese, sipping on your water.

“Honey you need to eat, you know it’s alright to complain and send it back if you don’t like it.” She commented and you let out a small sigh, leaning back in your chair.

“I’m honestly not that hungry.” Your hand settled on your stomach, “I know it’s called morning sickness but it really hits any time of day and it’s been so bad.”

“Oh well let’s get you a ginger ale.” She flagged down a server to order the drink, flashing an incredibly fake smile at them before they wandered off to get it. “I’ve got an extensive list of smoothie recipes back at the house, good for all sorts of ailments, anything from sore muscles, nausea, allergies, migraines, they do wonders! I’ll get some copies made for you, have the maid pick up what you need for them.”

“Thanks.” You reply was more directed toward the server who was dropping off your ginger ale, but Eleanor didn’t need to know that.

“You know, now that I’ve got you out of the house we should go to some dress stores next.” She grinned widely and you glanced up with a confused expression on your face.

“Why dress stores? We don’t know if it’s a girl or boy yet.”

“Not for the baby silly,” she laughed, “wedding dresses! For you!”

“Oh…” you stalled suddenly sitting upright as you brain scrambled, “I don’t really know if that’s a good idea right now…”

“Well why not?” She took another sip of her cocktail, “I mean after all, you are getting married.”

“I know it’s a bit non traditional to have a baby before getting married, but there’s still so much planning to be done for the wedding and I don’t want to be a pregnant bride, especially if I’m showing…”

“Oh goodness! You know, I didn’t even think of that! No, we don’t need that at all, you deserve to have a glass of actual champagne on your wedding day. Not to mention the baby weight…” Her lips pursed as she surveyed you for a moment, as if you were already showing and carrying extra pounds, “no, that won’t do at all. You’re right, we need to make sure you’re in tip top shape before you walk down that aisle. My Brock does deserve the best after all. I’ll have my trainer at the club put together some workouts for you, some easy stuff you can do to help get rid of it.”

“Great.” You feigned a smile, swallowing back a yawn and Eleanor frowned.

“You need to rest.” She pointed out, “we’ll get the rest of this to go. I’ll make sure to send over one of the cooks to get you some dinner, need my grandbaby to grow big and strong.”

“Yeah.” You replied with a tired smile, folding your napkin on the table top as she got the cheque.

Back at the house Eleanor quickly summoned one of the staff to take the shopping you hadn’t sent back already over to the guest house before she disappeared into the main house and you were finally able to breathe a sigh of relief. Unlocking the door you could hear someone clattering around down the hall and figured it was someone on the Lexington’s staff doing their daily clean. You stepped out of your shoes, tossing your coat onto the coat rack before wandering down the hallway to the nursery and you ended up finding the source of the noise, surprised to see that it was actually Brock. Sitting on the floor, tool box and a beer on one side, instruction manual on the other as he was putting together the crib.

“You’re home early.” You greeted with a tired smile, placing down the other bags of shopping in the corner of the room.

“Figured I could duck out.” He glanced up to you with a wicked grin, “a new baby is the greatest excuse.” You let out a huff of a laugh.

“I’m sure.”

“Did you want me to start on the dresser?” He asked, nodding toward the box, “so you can organize some of the clothes?”

“No, keep doing what you’re doing.” You replied with a yawn, “your mother successfully exhausted me, I need a nap.”

“Okay. I’ll do my best to keep it down.”

“No worries.” You paused for a moment in the doorway, looking back as Brock continued to work on the crib. It felt weird, a little like you were watching an alternate universe unfold in front of you, never in a million years did you expect someone like him to actually be involved in this. You’d already made peace with the fact that you’d be relying on housekeeping staff to get things ready and essentially do everything else on your own. Maybe you’d misjudged Brock and he wasn’t going to be the absent father you’d expected of him.

**

The kitchen windows were cracked open, letting the fresh evening air in as a playlist echoed from your phone on the counter. You’d finally managed to have a day with little to no nausea and more energy and had decided to take advantage of it. You heard the door opening, the sound of Brock dropping his keys on the entry way table as he stepped out of his shoes, his briefcase finding home on the floor beside it before his footsteps rounded into the kitchen.

“What’s all this?” He asked with a grin as he stepped toward you, winding an arm around your middle as he kissed the side of your head.

“Dinner.” You replied with a shrug.

“You didn’t have to; I could’ve had the staff cover the meals; you know that.”

“Don’t worry about it.” You let out a small laugh, “I was bored, it isn’t much.”

Brock shifted around you as you turned back to the stove, reaching into the cupboard to grab a pint glass, “it’s still something, and it smells incredible.”

“I mean,” you started with a laugh, “Casey did call deem it my engagement deserving stir fry she loved it so much.”

Your attention was on the pan in front of you, a small smile on your cheeks at the memory, even if thinking about Casey was still painful, and Brock was lucky you were distracted, his hand clenching too tightly around the glass at the mention of the other woman. You jumped at the sound of glass shattering, a quiet shriek escaping your lips as you whipped around to find Brock facing the other counter.

“Shit.” He swore, quickly inspecting his hand before glancing over his shoulder, catching you with the worried expression on your face, “sorry. Didn’t realize I’d put it down so hard.”

“It’s fine.” You replied, “wasn’t like it was my favourite cup or anything.”

“Yeah.” He mumbled, moving to clean up the glass before dumping into the garbage, “how much longer? I’m gonna go change outta this suit.”

“Like five minutes.” You replied, turning back to the stove and he vanished from the room.

**

“You know, no matter how hard you stare into there you won’t summon things to the fridge, right?” Brock teased with a laugh as he caught you in the kitchen and you let out a sigh, swinging the door shut.

“Incredibly unfortunate.”

“What’re you craving?” His arm wrapped around you, hand settling on your stomach and you cringed internally.

“Double chocolate brownie ice cream.” You replied with a grumble, slipping from his grasp and moving toward the living room, “oh…and flaming hot Cheetos, used to hate ‘em ‘til Casey got me hooked.”

“I hope you don’t mean together.” Brock laughed, following you around the corner, watching you drop onto the couch with a huff. He leant over the back of it, pressing a kiss to the top of your head, “I’ll run out and grab them. And I won’t judge if you do make some weird concoction.”

He was gone out the door before you could protest or thank him, leaving you wondering, yet again, if you really had known Brock before all of this began or if you’d only known the façade he put on to get by in this politically filled world. You’d never been one on one with him, he’d never held down a girlfriend long enough for you to hear good things about him, he always had a new date on his arm or was flying solo flirting with anything with a pulse. You were starting to wonder if maybe all it took was a bit of privacy and commitment for him to drop the act and actually reveal that he was a good person. It would’ve been far easier to send one of the house staff out to the store.

*

Brock pulled the car into the driveway and shifted it into park, letting out a grumble as he grabbed the grocery bag from the passenger seat to get out of the car, popping a cigarette into his mouth as he did so. He glanced up when a beam of light burst from the main house as the front door opened and shut, Archer stepping outside.

“Hey.” The other man greeted with a grin, “thought you’d be on nursery duty.”

“Craving control.” He held up the bag before lighting the smoke.

“You whipped or what? Why not just send Carl?”

“Needed more smokes.” He took a particularly long drag, inhaling as much as he could, falling in step beside Archer, “already blew through a pack this week.”

“Geeze, work that stressful?” Archer asked and he simply grunted in return, “what’s eating you?”

“Nothing.”

“Oh c’mon, I can tell you’re lying. You not loving fiancé life?” He asked with a tease, snagging the pack of smokes to steal one, lighting it up and taking a drag. Brock let out a grunt of a sigh, pulling on the smoke again before his face hardened.

“It’s her damn ex.”

“The dyke from Harvard?”

“Yeah.” He flicked at the cigarette, “she keeps coming up. I don’t think it’s on purpose but it’s pissing me off. Everything was done right; she should hate the bitch but for some reason she continues to slip into conversation.”

“Bro…” Arched laughed, “you have got to get that girl out of her head.” He clapped his shoulder, laughing harder, “otherwise she’s gonna remember that she can do so much better than you. Even if her parents don’t want her marrying a girl.”

“Dick.” Brock punched his chest, “the Vanderbilt’s know they can’t get better than this.”

“Yeah? You might wanna talk to dad before you get too cocky.”

“Stop fucking worrying about it, okay?” He snapped, “I don’t see you doing anything to help the situation. I did what I was supposed to, now fuck off, I’ve got a fiancée to take care of.”

“Yeah, okay.” Archer chuckled, clapping his shoulder once again, “how about you go put on the moves and fuck her so good she forgets about anyone else?”

“Whatever.”

*

The ice cream was half finished, stashed away in the freezer for whenever the craving hit again as the two of you retired to the bedroom. It started out as normal, slipping under the covers and curling up away from Brock until his arm wound around you, rolling you onto your back and his lips met yours. The taste of cigarette smoke invaded your mouth as his tongue slid its way in and you were about to push him off you when he broke the kiss, lips trailing down your neck as his hands shifted lower on your body. For only a moment it was a relief but the nicotine smell was completely taking over your senses.

“Brock, stop..” You muttered, clawing at his shoulders.

“C’mon baby…” He smirked against your collarbone and your stomach churned.

“I mean it.” You barely made it over the edge of the bed, yanking the garbage can into position before the contents of your dinner came racing back up. Brock jolting away from you as you continued to gag. “I told you I didn’t like the smell and that was even before you knocked me up.” You groaned, slipping from the bed to deal with the garbage bag and re-brush your teeth.

“Hey,” he caught your arm, “I’ll deal with that and I’ll go to the guest room, you sleep here.”

“No.” You shook your head tiredly, “the pillows already smell too, I’ll go to the guest room, it’s fine.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t worry about it.”

**

Brock rolled off you, letting out a satisfied groan as he collapsed against the pillows, his body coated in a sheen of sweat as he pulled the sheets back up. He playfully slapped at your hip, a dark chuckle escaping his lips as he did so,

“Wow you really are good at that.” He smirked, “well… we are I guess.” He laughed again.

“Yeah.” You mumbled, pulling the sheet tighter around you. You could still taste the whiskey on your lips from his tongue, the nicotine burning your mouth, feeling it fill with saliva and you wished you could chug a bottle of tequila to rid yourself of the taste.

“I’m gonna go smoke.” He tossed back the blankets, tugging on a pair of sweats before he practically stumbled from the bedroom to head outside and you let out a low breath.

Waiting until you heard the front door swing shut behind him you then slipped from under the covers, scooping your pyjamas from the floor before darting into the bedroom. Brock had been working more and more hours recently, staying out late, work dinners with too much booze and too many cigars. Some of which you were dragged along to, playing the role of supportive fiancée with the rest of the wives who wanted nothing more than to be a trophy on a rich man’s arm. His work load had increased and you knew it, he was stressed about it, he had more responsibilities, he was in charge of his own team, gearing up for his campaign for city council and it showed. What used to be one beer with dinner had turned into three. He was smoking nearly a pack of cigarettes in two days and he was starting to miss more dinners and bedtimes than you’d expected at this point. You hadn’t been concerned about it until you were sorting things for dry cleaning and found a tiny empty plastic baggie in one of his pockets and realized he was doing coke at these late night dinners too.

Tugging on your clothes you let out a sad sigh, looking at yourself in the mirror while you gained your bearings. It would be fine. The election would pass before you knew it, things would be fine, they had to be. You brushed your teeth, splashing some water on your face before retreating back to the bedroom, finding Brock propped up on the headboard already.

“God you’re fucking sexy.” He murmured, a near slur to his words as he tugged you to him in an attempt to kiss you again, a hand cupping at your ass.

“Brock.” You protested, pushing away from him as you gagged, your eyes closing for a moment as you tried to ignore the cigarette smell. “I’m going to the guest room.”

“Oh c’mon.” He laughed, “you can handle round two. It’ll be worth it…”

“I’m exhausted.” You mumbled, sneaking off the bed.

“Alright, alright. Get some sleep darlin’. I guess I’ll get myself off.”

**

You were curled up on the couch, a blanket half tossed over your body while you stared at the mindless television show playing in front of you. You were exhausted, alone, your entire existence feeling emptier with each day that went by. Not only was Brock busier with work, you noticed the way he was slowly starting to come undone, the late nights, even if he was home were accompanied by bourbon instead of beers, he was staying up until the crack of dawn after you went to bed and you knew that wasn’t unassisted. He was still doing his best to make sure you were fed, taken care of, and getting the nursery set up, but he was on edge and it worried you. You spent the days making sure the house was baby proofed, trying to avoid Eleanor and he constant wedding planning. Flipping through books of venues, flowers, caterers, even just the type of food you wanted, everything was a question and more and more pressure on you while you were just trying to remain healthy for yourself and the baby. You were forever thankful that that was always a good enough excuse to get out of things, wedding planning binders spread across the coffee table and kitchen island each day.

You could hear Brock clattering around somewhere deeper in the house, potentially the bedroom while you wound down from dinner. He’d been late, again, saying he’d already eaten while he poured out a stiff drink before he vanished from the room. Suddenly his footsteps got louder, closer and you almost thought, angrier until his voice shook through the air.

“What the fuck is this?!” Whatever he was talking about he’d clearly thrown over the back of the couch, hitting directly onto your ankle bone and you winced.

“Ouch! Brock what the hell?” You sat up, hand darting out for it and your eyes widened when you realized what it was, your heart jumping into your throat as you tried to hold back the tears.

“Why the hell do you have an entire album filled with pictures of your ex?!” He shouted, lunging closer to the back of the couch and you dropped the album, nearly leaning away from him. “Shouldn’t you be over her? You said she broke up with you.”

“She did.” You replied, holding back the sorrow in your voice, “I.. didn’t realize I even still had this.”

“Well it was on the top of your bag!”

“Brock, c’mon, I’m sorry.” You pleaded, watching the anger in his eyes, the way the vein in his neck was throbbing, “when I moved in here I just tossed all my stuff into bags. I was unpacking the last of it this morning and found it at the bottom of my suitcase, that’s it, I swear.”

“You talk about her a hell of a lot.”

“She used to be a big part of my life. Used to. In the past, okay?”

“You sure?”

“Yeah.” You heard the tremor in your voice that time, “believe me, she’s blocked me, we haven’t said a word since the breakup. She was a whole lifetime ago, you and this baby… that’s my future.”

Brock let out a sigh, running a hand over his face and brushing through his hair as his shoulders sagged, “is any of this stuff online? Any other copies or something? You know how politics work; the other side could twist something like these photos into some gay affair that’ll sink my entire campaign and career.”

“No.” You ducked your gaze, “those are the only copies. I’m sorry, I’ll get rid of it tomorrow.” Your hand closed around the small album, tossing it to the coffee table with the mental note to hide it as soon as you were out of his line of sight while the tears began to invade your eyes. Brock suddenly softened, noticing the state of upset,

“Hey…” He quickly rounded the couch, waiting for you to shift, glancing up at him before he sat beside you, still giving you space, “hey.. I’m sorry. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to yell.” His hand cautiously reached out for your knee, squeezing softly, “darlin’, I’m not mad at you, swear. Work just has me so fucking stressed, it’s like every single thing I do could fuck up my entire career with only one second. I didn’t realize how much pressure it was going to be this early in the game.”

“I know.” You replied with a quick sniffle, hand darting up to wipe away a tear, “I’m sorry too. I’m just tired.”

“You don’t need to apologize.” He squeezed at your knee again, “I overreacted,” he gestured to the photo album, “I just worry about you sweetheart. I know how much you cared about her and those feelings take a while to go away, no matter what happen. I don’t like the idea of you hanging onto pieces of that relationship when she tossed you aside like you were trash, because you’re a fucking gem and if you keep shit like that, I worry that you’re gonna let yourself continue to get hurt. And sometimes it makes mee feel a little inferior.” He admitted with a shrug, “I know we didn’t exactly happen like most couples do but this is what I want, promise.” He leant in, kissing your cheek, “I’m sorry, so sorry. It won’t happen again.”

“Kay.” You replied, letting him wrap his arm around you and pull you into his shoulder as your eyes blurred with tears, gaze remaining on the photo book and the memories that it held.

**

It was late. Later than you planned on being up, but that ice cream craving was hitting again, specifically with those Cheetos. So you were standing in the kitchen, scooping up dessert on the chips, your gaze settled on the ultrasound on the fridge. Brock had been at the appointment of course, only long enough to find out you were having a girl and that everything was healthy before he disappeared back to work and had yet to return home.

But that didn’t matter.

As the seasons changed and the air began to chill as the leaves started to turn all that mattered was you and the baby, your daughter, who was currently gently kicking against your abdomen. You let out a happy hum, your hand rubbing along your small bump,

“I know, I know. You want more cheezies.” You chuckled, “as you wish.” Your gaze drifted back up to the ultrasound, “it’s just you and me bug. I’ve got you. I promise. No matter what happens, you’re my everything, us against the world.”

**

The door to Casey’s dorm room was open, giving off a friendly, approachable vibe as she unpacked all of her things for the coming term. As horrible of a summer that she’d had she was ready to put all of it behind her, to start on a new leg, a new life, to spend her final year at Harvard focused on school ready to ace every single exam and essay that came her way. She’d managed to convince herself that having you around would only have been a distraction anyways; this was a blessing in disguise.

“Case!” Kristen’s voice called out as she rounded into the room with a bright smile, “Sherry told me you’d moved in!”

“Hey!” She turned with a bright smile, greeting the other girl with a tight hug.

“What’s with the single dorm?” She questioned, glancing around the room, “I know you and y/n liked to share but a single bed’s a little small don’t you think?”

“Uh.. you didn’t hear?” Casey nervously glanced around the room for anywhere to look but the other girl.

“No…what happened?”

“We’re not talking anymore.” Casey sighed, dropping down onto the bed, “things kinda went haywire after she went back to D.C.”

“Well that’s gonna make class awkward.” She laughed.

“It would, but she’s not coming back.”

“Seriously?”

“Yeah.” Casey huffed out a laugh, “uh.. we’re like.. done, done. She’s engaged… and pregnant..”

“Oh fuck.” Kristen’s eyes widened, dropping onto the edge of the bed beside her, “okay well, fuck her and fuck that. I’m on your side, and we’re gonna make this year your year! Find you the best hottie we can and you won’t even remember her name by graduation.”

“Thanks.” Casey laughed, a slight sorrow in her eyes as she did so, “but how about we just focus on school and ignore everything else? I can get back into dating once we’ve passed the bar.”

“Whatever you want.” She leant in, kissing Casey’s cheek, “you gonna come down to the kegger tonight?”

“Maybe.” Casey replied, flashing her a small smile as the other girl bounded from the room with a giggle and she let out a soft sigh. Her eyes drifted to one of the smaller boxes she had yet to unpack yet, a couple of the coziest and most worn shirts and hoodies that belonged to you that she’d never gotten the chance to return. Buried at the bottom, a tiny box with the diamond she’d been planning on giving to you after you’d both graduated.

A future she had once been certain of.

A future that she now was certain would never happen.

______________________

@bisexualcrowley @red1culous @imlike-so-gaydude @wannabe-fic-reader @altsvu @disneyfan624 @svulife-rl rl @svushots @whimsicallymad @mysticfalls01 @alexusonfire @naturalxselection @bumblebear30 @solemnnova @infernumlilith @australiancarisi @cerberus-spectre @emskisworld @thestarrynightslover @lawandorderuswnt @ex-uallyactive @hbkpop @samwithnoplan @multifandomlesbianic @narvaldetierra @dxtery @poisonedcrowns @a-little-bit-of-this-and-that @clarawatson @mickey-gomez @momlifebehard @yeeterthek33per @brooklynmhm @summergeezburr @alexxavicry @daddy-heather-dunbar @7thavenger @augustvandyne @msvenablesbitch @kdaghay @happenstnces @valentinesfrog @geekyandgay98 @onmykneesformarvel @akingcalledkris @desperate-gay @riveramorylunar @prentiss-theorem @irishavengersassemble @louderfortheback @kmc1989 @louderfortheback @holycrapraewth

#casey novak #casey novak x reader #heavy hearts #law and order svu #svu #law and order #law and order special victims unit

[eggsnspanky]

I have a take on Alastor's backstory, based loosely on The Mariner's Revenge. Thought it would be a fun (tragic) motivation for his career as a killer, as well as an explanation for his moral code. TW for abuse and suggested SA towards his mom.

Alastor's mother used to be deeply in love with his father. He grew up with stories of a debonair gentleman who came in and swept her off her feet, who treated her with love and adoration, who was an equal partner through and through, in spite of their social differences. He even got to see some of it! At least, for a time.

He was a loving man and father, but over the years, Alastor noticed things that were... Off. Words spoken sweetly, yet that still seemed to make his mother wilt. Her smile never faultered around the man, but Alastor saw her when she thought she was alone. Alastor saw how she overextended herself, how she tired trying harder and harder to please his father, and began to pick up on how his father would use loving tones and soft words to manipulate her into giving him more and more of herself. (Walls were thin, and she wasn't always willing to give certain parts of herself, but he took anyway and Alastor heard.)

He became more distant with Alastor the closer he came to puberty, and at the same time, his mother's health started to fail her. She grew weak and sickly, and would often collapse from overexertion. Alastor's father grew irrate now that she had little left he could take from her. Gone were the sickly sweet words, replaced with pointed, scathing remarks, shouting, anything he could say to hurt her. Alastor took up the mantle of cooking and housekeeping, to help his mother and keep the ire of his father away from her.

He was already wary of his father, but at this point Alastor begins to hate him.

Soon after, his father became physical. He didn't do it in front of Alastor, but Alastor saw the bruises, and saw how his mother would flinch and cower in front of his father. (And he still HEARD. She only had one thing left he could take from her, and he took it nearly every night, whether or not her body could manage.) Yet, in front of Alastor, she still smiled as if nothing was wrong.

Through everything, she still treated Alastor as though he was the most precious gift she could ever have received. She tried her hardest to keep the reality of their situation away from him. She taught him the skills needed to run the home, singing his praises the entire time, forever expressing how much she loved and appreciated him. She was always assuring him that she was alright, saying that she was merely tired, that she just needed rest. She looked at him like he held her heart in his hands. And even in her sickness, she always did her best to keep his father's attention away from him.

It came to a head when Alastor turned 15. Alastor came home from school to find his mother on the floor, and the house in shambles. His father had been cheating for the last few years, and was stockpiling funds to run off with a new, younger, woman. He took anything of value in the house, including his mother's wedding ring. He had left them with nothing, and disappeared.

Alastor worked odd jobs to make ends meet, and took care of his sickly mother. He took to hunting and trapping to supplement their food supply. He studdied on his own, no longer having the time for school between work and caretaking. He tried his hardest, but his mother's health continued to rapidly decline as she spiraled into despair.

But she still smiled at him. She still tried to keep his spirits up. "Smile, my dear." She would say, cupping his face as he fussed over her. "You know, you're never fully dressed without one! And you have such a lovely smile..."

She became unable to do any of the things she used to love. Her hands shook too much to crochet or sew, she couldn't stand long enough to cook, dancing was far too much, and even reading became tiresome as time went on. Alastor always kept a radio playing at her bedside for company. He told her that he would get a job as a radio host, so he could be at her side, even while working. She told him that she looked forward to it, more than anything.

She only lasted two years after his father left them. She didn't pass on peacefully, either. She didn't want to die and leave her son all alone. She fought with all her might to hang on, even as her body failed her. Her mind crumbled apart, and she lived her final weeks in a haze of pain and delirium. She was grief stricken and filled with hurt, rage, and regret. She died with her greatest and final regret on her lips. "Find him, Alastor. Don't let him get away with what he did to us. Don't let that wretched man escape..." (Even in heaven, she regrets her final words every day.)

And thus, her rage is passed to Alastor. She has given him purpose, and the hunt begins. Any man who so much as reminds him of his father is a target. And as a teenager on his own, with barely any funds, well... Why waste good meat? Alastor found that humans and deer were not so different under a butcher's knife.

He's cut down before he finds him, so his hunt continues in Hell. Kills become more indiscriminate, since he can no longer identify him by sight. He could be anyone.

Aaaand that's it. Sorry it's so long, and I doubt anyone is gonna read it! But this little headcanon was swirling around my brain and I wanted to get it out! Also, Alastor has no clue that he's picked up some of his father's manipulative tendencies. He's not one for extensive self reflection.

#Hazbin Hotel #Alastor #headcanon #oof #I had a brainworm sorry guys

[sisitrip]

For the @gallavichthings event A.U.gust 2023 prompt "Cyberpunk", I offer "B8ted Breath."

Thank you @gallavichthings and the people behind that tag for hosting! I don't know what this is, but whatever it does turn out to be, I had fun.

Housekeeping:

Funerarium - Funeral Home

Gravecodes - Condensed data containing video/audio of the deceased that can only be viewed in my dystopian funerarium.

Rig-mech - A terraforming machine technician who works on rigs used to make inhabitable outposts, habitable.

_____________________

Ian heads into the funerarium’s Reflection Room, a glass encased dome filled with fake flowers and a dry fountain sitting in the middle of its large space. He’s made coming here a habit after a gravecode visit. A sort of cherry on the morbid cake of his self flagellation. 

He takes a seat on the ring of the fountain and pulls out a small, collapsible metal cup and a mini carton of milk. As always, he feels dumb doing this, but it comforts him after a rough viewing.

He’s pouring the milk into the cup when a B8 CL-WS unit glides noiselessly into the room. Boxy and sitting atop soundless rubber wheels, it rolls around cleaning non-existent dust off the floor. He smiles, thinking not for the first time that this particular cleaning unit looks a little like a robotic military tank.  

“Shit,” he curses softly as he overflows his cup and it spills on the floor. The B8 immediately makes a beeline for him. He lifts his feet as the unit’s small, microfiber pad swipes through the liquid then blows heated air to dry what's left. 

He laughs knowing he must look ridiculous with his feet hanging above the floor and his dumb collapsible cup raised in an awkward toast. The unit goes on blowing warm air, unmoving. This is the longest wipe and dry he’s ever seen. He couldn’t have spilled that much. 

“Uh, I think it’s dry now,” he says. 

The B8 just continues blowing air and he can feel it sliding uncomfortably up his pant legs. Great. It’s malfunctioning.

“Area sanitized. Retract.” 

The unit doesn’t move.

“Um, retract,” he tries again, legs starting to ache in their raised position. “C’mon, retract dopey.”

Nothing. 

Ian notices the code on the unit’s exterior has been altered. An ‘A’ has been scratched over the dash between the CL and WS. Despite his irritation, he laughs. It’s probably been done before, but for some reason, seeing that silly CLAWS etched into this broken cleaning unit is what he’d needed. 

“Claws my ass, you box of junk. I should give you a kick,” he chuckles. 

“I wouldn’t do that. She's been retrofitted with a mini-flame thrower.”

The voice startles him so badly, he falls backward into the fountain, cup flying. He bounces his head off an ornate cherub and sees stars.

“Jesus fuck!” he shouts, flailing as he tries to get out of the fountain without kicking the stupid B8 unit that was now whizzing back and forth over the newly spilled mess. 

A hand braces itself on the rim of the fountain, bearing faded knuckle tattoos that spelled “FUCK.” He stares at it dizzily, fascinated by how menacing that hand looked despite its small size. 

“If you’re thinking of taking a bath in this thing, it ain’t gonna happen, Cherry.”

A man, sporting a black military cap atop longish dark locks, peers down at Ian with the bluest eyes he’s ever seen this close. The looming man’s expression was equal parts amused and irritated as he held out his other hand.

Ian takes it and lets himself be hauled to his feet to properly look at his rescuer. This man was no more than 5’7” with a small, but compact frame and not the hulking menace he thought he was. Not usually Ian’s type, but those eyes. They were something. 

He stares a little too long and the man snaps his fingers in front of his face. 

“How hard did you ring your bell, man?” 

Caught without an excuse for gazing longingly, Ian's face warms.

“That thing almost burned the hairs off my legs,” he complains, reaching down for his cup only to have the B8 snag it with a hook and toss it into a compartment on its back. “For Christ’s sake!”

The man rubs a finger across his ridiculously kissable mouth, chuckling quietly. Despite his irritation, Ian finds himself fighting an answering smile. 

“The fuck you expect a cleaning unit to do?” the man scolds. “You drop shit, it picks it up.” 

Ian rubs the small lump that’s starting to swell on the back of his head, anger flaring at the less than contrite attitude. 

“I didn’t drop a damn thing. It flew out of my hand when you ninja'd out of thin air.” He glares at the man, noting his uniform, an all black jumpsuit bearing the name of the facility. “You work for Obriad?”

“That’s what the jumpsuit says.” 

The man leans down, presses a series of buttons on the underside of the B8 and it takes off, zooming away towards a black door partially obscured by two huge, fake palms. The unit stops at the door, waiting patiently, like a dog. 

“Then you might want to take that unit out of commission until it can be repaired,” Ian suggests, drinking the milk and taking in the tattoos on the man’s other hand. He snorts. Fuck U-Up. This one's a walking, talking poet. 

“There’s nothing wrong with that B8. You spilled milk and it kept cleaning until it was dry. No use crying about it,” the man says, as if he's addressing a child. 

Angry and at a loss for words, Ian drains the milk, taking in the man’s half smile that could be flirtatious or condescending. It feels like both. He regroups.

“I'm not going to argue about a faulty B8. Just try not to have it burn the hair off anyone else’s legs.” 

He turns to walk away and is stopped by the snottiest intonation he’s ever heard. 

“Sir, yes sir. Obriad extends its sincerest apologies, Mr. ...?” 

Ian allows himself a quick grin before turning to look haughtily over his shoulder. Yeah, that smile he’d been confused about earlier? Definitely flirty.

“Gallagher. And you’re …?” 

“Devastated by your displeasure.” 

Ian laughs and that seems to please this exasperating man who continues. 

“It's Milkovich. I run operations here and rest assured, your leg hair will be safe from now on.” 

Ian gets a smile that eclipses every light in the room. Hell.

“Uh, yeah. Thanks, Mr. Milkovich.” 

He gives a short, weird wave, suddenly unsure of how his hands work. Neck burning, he walks quickly to the e-lifts, silently cursing his inability to ever play it cool.

“It's Mickey.” 

The softly called name reaches him at the doorway of the Reflection Room. He turns and Mickey is walking backwards toward that palm framed door, hands in his pockets. Ian considers for less than a second before offering his own name.

“Ian.”

Mickey touches the bridge of his cap and salutes him in an exaggerated farewell worthy of a sultan. Ian huffs a soft laugh and heads to the e-lift. After depressing his thumb to the location pad, it opens. 

He spends the quick descent and vertical shifts to his transport thinking about how Mickey seemed less like a funerarium operations director and more like a rig-mech. Gruff and teasing, his demeanor was better suited for that kind of rough outpost work. Ian should know. He'd bedded more than a few of them. 

The transport calculates the best route home and it's only halfway there that he realizes he's left his cup. He tells himself that he has to remember to ask Mickey for it on his next visit. It was everyone's duty to keep waste to a minimum, right? Retrieving a perfectly usable cup was the responsible thing to do. Honor demands it.

He looks at his reflection in the impenetrable plexishield of the window and the smile he wears is unique if for no other reason than it's a first on many levels. 

It's the first time he's smiled in months. The first time he's smiled in this stupid transport he'd inherited from Monica. 

More importantly, it's the first time he's ever smiled after a gravecode viewing. 

He stares unseeing at the dry, rundown landscape of the approaching outpost and can't decide if this development is a good thing or cause for concern.

He shrugs. It doesn't matter. It feels good and that’s so rare for him, he savors it. 

Maybe finding something to smile about in a funerarium is sacrilege. Maybe it’s not.

Whatever it is, he’ll be back next month if only to see those blue eyes again.

#a.u.gust 2023 #gallavich #my fic #ian x mickey