#my guess is that elongated is gonna hold on to it for a couple of years to try and turn a profit | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

lacheri · 3 years

Text

streets

pairing: dom!Levi x stripper!fem bodied reader

content: modern au, sex work (stripping), degradation, hint of praise kink, fingering, unprotected penetrative sex, choking, slapping, dom/sub themes, Levi's a whole freak in the sheets, also mf has a split personality, minors DNI

summary: erwin drags his lonely best friend, levi, out to a strip club.

wc: 7.7k

Violent vibrations of bass shook through your platform teasers, one leg moving tantalizingly slow in front of the other as neon lights flashed around you. The silver pole loomed in front of you, your hips swaying as you strutted across the stage. You could feel the intense stare of eyes belonging to strangers as you finally wrapped your fingers one by one around the cold metal, circling so slowly around it, pushing your ass and chest out on display. You flicked your eyes up, heavy from false eyelashes, and searched around you.

Some familiar faces, most new, met your gaze as the club’s lights lit up in a dark red. They were all focused on you, sitting forward patiently in their plush seats, waiting to devour your body with their eyes. You leaned your back against the pole, looking down at your body. You were glad you had worn your favorite set of dancing gear, a see-through black mesh bralette and a matching set of panties, and of course, your six inch sparkly pleaser heels. It was simple, yet so effective when it came to the stuffed wallets of your onlookers.

There was one man in the sea of others who caught your attention tonight though. He sat directly in the center, his expression seemingly unamused and unentertained. You wanted to roll your eyes, discarding yourself of this fantasy you were presenting on stage. You resisted the urge, instead, turning your head in the opposite direction, and rolled your torso until you sat crouched. You leaned forward, head turned straight now, ass sticking right up in the air as the tops of your breasts squished against the stage. You used the leverage from your knees to shake your exposed ass cheeks, watching the raven haired man bring his hand to his face, stroking along his jaw as he took in the sight of you.

You parted your legs slowly, bringing a knee in front of the other, crawling towards the edge of the stage. You pushed yourself up from your elbows until you were in an upright position, allowing your hips to sink forward as you continued to roll your body to the beat. Still, no reaction, or sign that he was going to throw money on you, you scoffed internally and turned your attention to the blonde gentleman sitting closely next to him, a wad of dollar bills crushing in his grip. You smirked mischievously, leaning backwards until you felt the cold metal brush against your back. Flattening out, you brought your legs up, shaking them high in the air to allow your ass and thighs to move in rhythm. You felt the air brush past you as bills went flying in the air, and you smiled in euphoria. Money was your love language, and anyone who threw bills at your half naked form became your lover for however long your dance lasted.

You placed your feet on solid ground, leveraging yourself upwards to a full stand, turning around sauntering back to the pole. You wrapped a lone leg around the cold cylinder, elongated from your heels, and jumped into a spin. Your hands gripped high above you, dangling your head back as you swung in a pretty circle, your other leg posed straight down. Once you had found this balance, you let your right hand leave the stability of the pole, running it down the front of your body, over the swell of your breasts and the flat of your stomach, stopping right before you met your center. You slid downwards until both your feet met the stage floor as you crouched once more, popping your ass out to move the muscles one at a time of your cheeks. You glanced backwards, and you were pleased to see the dark haired man’s cold steel eyes locked in on your body.

He was very handsome, as was his blonde friend. Your best guess was that they were in their late twenties, maybe early thirties. You watched the ravenette reached in his pocket, almost in disgust as he pulled out single bills. You couldn’t see the dollar amount from your angle, so you maneuvered back onto your knees to give all your attention to the man in front of you. You tried the same move as before, crawling on all fours as seductively as you could, this time your knuckles wrapped around the very edge of the stage. You learned forward, a couple of feet away from the man as his expression darkened. As if you were a gravitational pull, he leaned forward as well, only a few inches away. Close enough to reach out and touch him, your thumb and pointer finger met the collar of his white button up, softly trailing the fabric. At the same time you reached out, he was doing the same, tucking the small stack of cash in between the valley of your breasts, managing to not touch any of your exposed skin as he did so.

Thinking about your other awaiting customers, you quickly withdrew your teasing, a smirk laced on your lips. You blew the man a kiss, winking, crawling backwards on the stage.

Your onlookers ravaged your body with their eyes as you continued your dance. Your chest was rising rapidly, out of breath as you did your final spin on the pole. You ended your dance in a slow split, toes pointed and curled as you felt your clothed pussy meet the now warmed material of the stage under you. You pulled yourself up after an explosion of cash was tossed on stage, flashing a seductive smile before retreating behind the curtain to the back of the stage. You’d have one of the security guys clean your cash up before the next girl walked on, knowing they’d get a small cut from doing you the favor.

You relaxed your body into a chair in the dressing room, sighing loudly. The room was empty, makeup and costumes littered about the mirror space as all the girls working were either out on the floor or giving out private dances. You just needed the quick break, you had danced pretty hard out there. You were debating switching outfits, as this one was a little too revealing for casually strolling on the floor.

You shrugged, getting up to get into your locker space, retrieving a cropped leather jacket, chains dangling around the body, brushing against your exposed skin and as you pushed your arms through the sleeves. This would at least give you the illusion that you were covered up much more than what you had believed.

Powdering your shiny face before you exited, you breathed in deeply as neon lights greeted you once again on the club floor. You worked at a pristine strip club, ratings high and prices even higher. There was a twenty dollar fee to even get in the place, and when you finally got in the door, the bouncers up front would make a copy of your driver’s license, just in case you fucked up somehow and they needed to add to you the banned list. Which was a pretty long list, hence the photo copies.

The dancers were high quality as well, all different shapes and sizes and ethnicities. It was almost like a buffet, you could get whatever you desired, just had to go out and look first. Everyone working the shifts danced, absolutely no exception. Of course, you’d want to dance though, making exceptionally more money than on the shifts where you’d stick behind the bar crafting drinks. If you were asked by one of your friends how much money you’d make on a night like this, you’d feel guilty as you would humbly lie, not wanting to entice them into auditioning at your place of employment. When the club was at full capacity, as it was right now as you sashayed to the bar, you could easily walk home with a couple grand. This job paid your bills, bought you pretty things, put food in your belly, it meant everything to you.

“Hey, Annie! Gin and tonic, pretty please,” you batted your thick eyelashes at your favorite blonde bartender.

She only nodded, shooting a desperate plea between you and the overcrowded area of the bar area with her eyes. You snickered, feeling her pain all too well, having spent many a night behind the counter, non-stop pouring drinks. Annie slid your drink over as quickly as she could, being stolen away by an already drunken man requesting a round of shots before you could hold a conversation with her. You shrugged, taking large gulps of your glass. You were parched from your dance, alcohol quenching your thirst. You hadn’t realized you downed your cocktail until you felt the clink of ice hit the front of your teeth. You left the empty glass at the bar, turning around and leaning against the counter as you planned out your next moves.

“You should dance to Doja Cat more often,” you heard a familiar voice hum next to you, looking up into the eyes of your security guard, Connie. A black bag you knew was full of your cash was held in his grip, a playful smile on his lips, “Took me like ten whole minutes to clean this up off the stage.”

You laughed lightly along with Connie, “What would I do without you? Could you put that in my locker for me, babe? I just left the dressing room.”

“‘S gonna’ cost you,” he joked, already leaving your form to follow your request. “You owe me a round of tequila shots, Patrón!”

Connie disappeared in the sea of bodies before you could call out a remark. You sighed, flopping your head onto your shoulder, eyeing back the gazes from different men who took in your relaxed body. None of them piqued your interest, and you found yourself feeling quite lonely in the middle of the club.

This was the last place on Earth Levi had pictured himself in. When Erwin had grabbed Levi’s arm, tugging him out of his home office, a strip club was the very last place Levi could’ve fathomed ending up in.

“You, my friend, are going to have a good fucking night!” Levi recalled his blonde friend shouting at him, tossing the much smaller man into Erwin’s passenger seat of his truck. Levi had only grumbled, disappointed his hot cup of tea would become cold in his absence, the novel he had been reading left disheveled on his desk. When Erwin had pulled into a parking lot, Levi finally had taken notice of their destination.

“What the fuck are we doing at a strip club?” he spat through clenched teeth, a migraine coming on.

“Attempting to get you laid,” Erwin smirked, sliding out from the driver’s seat. Levi had no choice but to follow, Erwin not giving him even a moment to try and talk his way into heading back home.

“Why?” Levi was seething, blood pumping loudly in his ears. Why did Erwin care about Levi’s state of his love life, or lack thereof?

“Levi,” Erwin paused, sighing before the entrance. “I’ve known you since sophomore year of college, that was almost six years ago, and that entire time I’ve seen you go out on one date. You didn’t even see the girl again after it either!”

“She was boring,” Levi defended, his eyebrows furrowing. “Most people are boring. Why waste my time?”

“Because, some people are worth it. I forced you to be my friend, and look at us now!”

“You’re not an idiot,” the corner of Levi’s lips lifted.

“I think that might be the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me,” Erwin chuckled, tone sarcastic. It was true though, Levi would’ve never allowed Erwin to try and befriend him all those years ago if he had been a total lost cause. Erwin was smart though, driven and ambitious. He worked hard and never slacked off, traits Levi deeply admired. “C’mon, what’s the harm in having a bit of fun?”

There was a lot of harm, turns out. Levi was caught completely off guard by how nice this club was, bouncers all over the pristine premise. He visibly relaxed at this point, his inner germaphobe sated. Though he did use hand sanitizer generously before sitting down on the plush chair in front of the stage, Erwin chatting in his ear over how beautiful the dancers were here. Levi half listened, more interested in his glass of whiskey than his best friend. He downed it easily, almost like he was drinking water. Then the lights dropped, and you had walked out.

With all his might, Levi tried to act like he wasn’t enticed, not wanting to bring Erwin any satisfaction. It was true, Levi’s love life was basically nonexistent. Only having sex with maybe three girls in his lifetime, it had been awhile to say the least since he had seen a beautiful woman in this state of undress. When you had leaned down, breasts pressing so sinfully against the stage, crawling towards him all on fours, a primal urge rippled through Levi’s body. Like you were daring him to act out, to cave in entirely to your will.

He felt a piece of himself missing when you exited the stage, but the room felt lighter, taking a deep breath to steady himself. Erwin was in a similar frame of mind, shooting Levi a knowing look.

“Well, what’d you think?” Erwin leaned towards his friend, a small smile on his face.

“I think that’s the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen in my life,” Levi groaned, uncomfortable admitting this, rubbing his hands across his face.

“You should pay her for a dance, I know I’m definitely going to get one later,” Erwin’s eyes followed a thick dark skinned woman, swaying her hips, winking at Erwin as she walked past. He pushed up off his chair then, “Actually, hold that thought.”

The absence of his friend so suddenly had left Levi feeling awkward and out of place. His lips held an amused scowl as he watched Erwin confidently approach the woman, her luscious lips twisting into a smile of her own as she grabbed his hand, and led him away from Levi’s view. The ravenette stood then, empty glass in tow, and decided that he would need another drink to get through the rest of the night.

That’s when Levi had seen you, leaning so casually against the marble countertops of the bar as if you had owned the place. Your eyes drooping in disinterest, too cool to associate with the crowd around you. You didn’t even seem to notice various men eyeing your form, talking amongst each other, never breaking their focus from you. And Levi had to admit, you did look so fucking cool. The realization that Levi himself had joined the crowd of your many onlookers startled him, beginning to feel embarrassment and guilt for admiring you almost as if you were an object. When your eyes had met his though, and a pretty smile changed your entire expression, any and all thoughts and feelings rocketed out of Levi’s mind.

He felt his feet move towards you before he could think thoroughly. You stayed, still and collected, eyes never breaking from his. As his strides graced closer and closer, Levi broke the connection from you, stopping to your side and calling out an order to a blonde bartender, ignoring you entirely.

Your shock rang through you like a gong, deep and humbling. This wasn’t what you had predicted in those fleeting seconds when you had seen the raven haired man making intentful strides to you. He was close enough to your body that you could hear the soft cotton of his white button up brush against the thick fabric of your leather jacket, and you felt licks of insecurity, a rare emotion for you.

“What? Shocked I’m not down on my knees begging for you?” Levi couldn’t stop the words from leaving his lips, noticing from the corner of his eye that you had stiffened dramatically.

You whipped your head to see him, to see his stupid expression as you were sure this man thought he was God’s gift to mankind. You knew this personality well, a common one with your clients believing that because you were after their money, you were technically working for them. To your surprise, you were met with the man’s steel grey eyes hard set in disinterest.

“No one’s going to give you a dance with that attitude, sir,” you huffed, clawing mentally to keep your cool. “Keep it up and watch how fast we get you kicked out.”

This man, a complete stranger to you, only ‘tsk’ed, digging in his black slacks to pull out his thick wallet, “I’ll pay you a grand if you take me back for a dance right now.”

Oh shit, you blinked, trying to process his offer. That’s a lot of fucking money.

“You have a funny way of showing that you like me,” you quirked an eyebrow, debating internally. “What’s the catch? What’s your thing?”

“My thing?”

“Your kink, your game, what’re playing at?”

“I’m not going to pay you to stand there and talk to me about what I like in privacy,” Levi scoffed, slightly embarrassed at the very public conversation that he believed was always meant to be in private.

“Fine,” your hand shot out, circling around his bicep, his strong bicep. “Let’s go, sir.”

Honestly the pet name was a shot in the dark, your best guess at what could possibly please this very attractive client. His moody attitude was throwing you off of your very whimsical and flirty facade, parts of your real personality peeking through the cracks. You didn’t know that Levi was actually enjoying this interaction, feeling flutters of admiration at your sharp tongue and quick mindedness.

You guided him to the back of the club, a bouncer stationed outside of a hallway. You nodded to the burly man, and he stepped aside and allowed the two of you to enter the hallway of doors. Numbers gold plated on each wooden door led the way, and Levi was starting to feel flickers of impatience.

The feelings settle once you unlock a door, pushing it open and Levi gazing inside. A plush leather couch sat in the center of the small room, LED lights flashing different colors slowly along the ceiling, and you guided him to sit down. His face was passive, and had you known the man’s thoughts in that moment, you’d know that Levi was unbelievably nervous. While he had the help of the liquid courage provided by his whiskey neats, Levi was incredibly inexperienced when it came to beautiful women, more specifically, you.

“What’s your name, love?” you cooed, hand trailing over his bicep as you placed yourself next to the ravenette, taking in his stiffened form.

“Levi,” he managed to choke out, feeling the deep stir of arousal from your simple touch. How could he not be attracted to you? The way you pressed yourself to his side, so tempting, you were an enchantress.

You mumbled out your stripper name, and Levi felt a pang of unease knowing that the ridiculous chosen name was not your real one. Your fingers trailed electricity over his clothes, the pads of your digits playing with the end of his sleeve. You leaned further in, breathing right against the shell of his ear.

“Ready for your dance, Levi?”

Levi gulped, raising a hand to push back his fringe from his face as you stood before him. His hands finally settled atop his thighs, legs comfortably opened and spread as he took a deep breath in, willing his mind and body to relax. Like Erwin had said, what’s the harm in having a little fun?

Goosebumps raised on Levi’s skin as the smooth bass of a somewhat familiar song kicked in. He had heard it on the radio once or twice, finding it quite catchy and therefore had never felt the need to change the station. His heart hammered in his ribcage, mouth drying as he watched you shift into character. A very fitting one, he thought to himself, a total and complete vixen.

Your back arched as you posed before him. His eyes drinking you in hungrily lit a flame deep within the depths of your soul, feeling the dire need to please the man in front of you. You bent down, tips of your fingers brushing against your toes, and then you threw your head back, hair falling seductively around you at the force. Levi was cursing profanities in his mind, a very verbal ‘fuck’ exiting his lips at the sight.

You turned your back to your handsome client, giving him a full view of your scantily clad ass as you teasingly slid your arms out of your jacket. Levi’s eyes followed every move, afraid to miss a single thing, every detail of you and your body becoming his biggest priority. Your leather jacket fell to the floor noisily, chains clanking as they hit the wooden planks. You threw a longing gaze over your shoulder, a pretty smirk on your face, and Levi had the startling realization that he had never felt a stronger attraction to a woman in his life. In fact, the intrusive thought had his mind traversing through past experiences, and had him wondering if had truly ever felt the tingling of arousal that you had awakened in him.

“Levi?” you brought your fingers under his chin to his surprise, angling his gaze to meet your curious expression.

“I’m alright, just,” Levi paused, letting his focus drift away from you. “This is my first time.”

Your face softened at his confession, genuine concern as you spoke, “‘S okay, just let me know if you want to stop at any point. And if there’s anything at all you want me to do, tell me.”

Levi was mildly stumped at the second half of your response. He could make requests of you, of this dance? The last thing he wanted in the world was for you to stop, in fact he never wanted this moment to end as you resumed your routine, eyes never leaving his.

Levi felt the blood rush to his lower half as you positioned yourself on the balls of your feet, leaning over his seated deposition, ghosting your lips over the shell of his ear, “You know, you’re quite handsome. You probably get that all the time, but truly, you are.”

“Thank you,” Levi managed to mumble, thoroughly embarrassed by the heat of your compliment. “You’re very pretty.”

You smirked, pushing yourself back to take in his shy appearance. You had a hunch that maybe if you provided Levi the confidence he needed, this hesitance would melt away. With that in mind, you turned your body once more, hands reaching behind you to undo the clasp of your lacy bra. Levi’s eyes widened, his fingers twitching in anticipation. When the material was released, you let out a silent sigh of relief from the pressure of the tight material. Your mesh top fell off your arms, you gently flicked it to join your jacket on the floor. Instead of showing your freed breasts to your handsome client, you bent down to your toes once more, shaking your ass and thighs. Levi’s eyes were ready to roll out of his skull.

You finally did turn, crouching between the space in between his thighs. Your hands slid from the bottom of his shins to the top of his thick thighs, you felt the subtle flex of his muscles as he tensed. His lustful expression showed you that Levi was less than hesitant, actually he was really enjoying himself now. This was his private show, and Levi was feeling extraordinarily special. He didn’t dare to raise his touch to grace your exposed skin though, not wanting to risk breaking any rules.

Your knees heaved you up once more, and you moved to straddle the raven haired man’s lap. You felt the hump of his erection between your thighs, and you bit back a moan at the sensation. Levi was in a similar frame of mind, trying not to let his bodily instincts and desires take over entirely. You rolled your hips, teasing his clothed length, and his grasp on control was nearly lost. Your naked breasts pressed against his chest, nipples hardened from your excitement. By no means were you the kind of girl to sleep with your clients or even entertain the thought, but when Levi’s lids fluttered and he bit the inside of his lip, you were rethinking every morally right ideal you held within yourself.

On par with the beat of the song, you leaned back, hands on his knees, and thrust your hips lazily in rhythm. Levi watched your ribcage expand and disappear under your naked torso, your navel shrinking and opening at the rolling motion. You flicked your hair behind your shoulder blades, your lips parted, and you let out a shaky breath. You were flushed against his hardened member, you could feel your center weeping at the contact. This was not your intention, to rub yourself all over this stranger, but the way his hands twitched and his eyes were so hungry had you feeling things you only indulged in by yourself, in the comfort of your bed and with your favorite pink vibrator.

“Make it fifteen hundred, and I’ll let you take me back to your place,” you mewled against your better judgement.

Levi’s concentration was broken, the whites of his eyes exposed as he shot his attention to your face. His lips contorted into an egotistical smirk, a contrast to his past shyness, “We haven’t even been in this room for five minutes, and you’re already wanting to leave?”

“Two grand,” your eyebrows furrowed, pushing your hips into his pelvis, satisfied when you heard a hiss leave his lips. “Keep teasing, and my price goes higher.”

“I’ll pay you whatever I want,” Levi’s features darkened. “Get your things. I want you to finish your dance when we get back to my house.”

You never did complete that dance. Levi was gripping your thighs and lifting you before you could even protest, your back slamming into the wall after he had unlocked his front door. His lips were all over you, your lips, your neck, your exposed collarbones. Your fingers were woven into his scalp, clinging desperately to the man.

He could barely contain himself on the drive home, seated palming your thighs in the back seat of a taxi. He had sent a quick text to Erwin, not explaining much but letting him know he’d talk to him tomorrow. Erwin hadn’t responded, not that Levi cared, but he had a feeling his blonde friend was in a very similar situation.

“You,” Levi growled into your neck, sliding his hands greedily under the t-shirt you had thrown on in the locker room of the club, “Are the sexiest woman I’ve ever met.”

His teeth sunk where he could feel your pulse the strongest under his lips, and you wantonly moaned out. Although Levi lived a generically organized lifestyle, in this moment all he craved was chaos. He wanted to see your perfect body littered in his marks, his bites and bruises. He wanted to wreck you, bring you out of your nonchalant attitude, stupefying you. Levi was going to fucking break you in all the best ways.

“Levi,” you breathed shakily. “Please, bedroom.”

Levi rammed his clothed hips into the center of your spread legs, your ankles hooked around his waist in this position. You gasped, moaning at the contact. Your nails raked up his back, and you felt a similar urgency as he was feeling, wanting to feel the tear of his skin underneath your fingernails. You felt Levi’s hands grip your thighs to adjust his grip, and soon he was carrying you into the unfamiliar territory of his home. He guided you easily up his staircase, reaching his opened bedroom door and unceremoniously throwing you on your back on his mattress.

Levi was on top of you in an instant, his lips swallowing yours as he grabbed the collar of your shirt with both his hands. He fisted the material, and with a quick fluid motion, he tore the fabric in half. You were shocked, but figured you could easily borrow Levi’s clothing upon your exit. You didn’t stop him as he treated your bra in a similar fashion, thankfully not ripping the expensive lace. He reached under the arch of your back, unclasping it, and you pulled your arms through the straps and the remnants of your poor shirt. Your breasts were on full display for his eyes now, and Levi’s mouth pulled away from you. His hands snaked up your exposed torso, thumbs rolling past your hardened nipples to your neck.

Levi wrapped his right hand around your neck, and your breath hitched in your throat as he mumbled, “You like it rough, don’t you, brat? Want me to use your body however I want?”

You didn’t answer, wanting to seek punishment. His fingers tightened, and you felt a gush of arousal slicken your lower lips. Your hips bucked upwards, eyes pleading as you watched a sick satisfaction cross his expression.

“Answer me,” he spat venomously, leaning in to brush his nose against yours.

“Yes, sir,” you stuttered out, feeling the tips of your ears redden. You were so turned on right now, body responding loudly to every word and touch.

“Good girl,” he praised, not releasing his grip around your neck. His left hand stayed at your breast, tweaking your right nipple roughly, rolling the beaded skin between his forefinger and thumb.

You whimpered, bringing your own hands to rest above your head, stretching your skin more for Levi. His eyes were honed in on your face, all your desperate expressions as his hand left your chest and dipped under the elastic of your grey cotton shorts to meet the lace trim of your panties. His forehead rested against yours, his breath hot against your lips as you panted. When you tried to reach up to capture his soft lips in a kiss, he only squeezed tighter around your neck, discouraging you from trying again. He wanted to watch you squirm, memorize the way your eyes would flicker and your lips would quiver at his touch. His fingers tugged the cotton of your panties aside, and ran two digits across your folds, the pads soaked at the contact.

He circled your clit agonizingly slow, spreading your essence over your hood. Your eyes rolled back into your skull, back arching up to feel some kind of skin to skin contact. Levi was not going to allow this though, and ripped his touch away from your cunt. You whined at the loss, tears pricking on the edge of your lash line. You yelped suddenly when you felt the harsh slap of his palm against your folds. Levi’s gaze was hardened, lips almost pulled back in a sneer.

“Stop, or you’re not getting what you want,” he growled, and even though he was hovering over you, you could swear you felt the vibration from his chest deep in your bones.

You meekly nodded, willing your body to lay there as still as you could be. He smoothed his palm over the reddened area of your center, and his soft, teasing touch returned. His middle and pointer finger spread your lips open, ring and pinky finger kept your panties tucked to the side. Levi tucked his digits inbetween your heat, caressing your folds. It took everything in your resolve to not buck your hips at the feeling of the roll of your clit in between the pads of his fingers. You whined, blinking tears away rapidly.

Levi felt merciful for a moment, and fled his intimate touch down to your fluttering entrance. You could feel your muscles clenching in anticipation, letting out a moan of relief as he dipped the two extremities into your tight hole.

“You’re so wet, all because of me?” Levi teased, brushing his lips against yours. “Such a good slut, you’ve wanted me to touch you since you got on that stage tonight, haven’t you?”

“Yes,” you panted sharply, his fingers curled inside your walls and began to pump. “Wanted your attention so bad.”

“Like I had a choice,” he chuckled without humor, flicking his wrist hard into your core. “You came out looking like that, what was I supposed to do? This, you on your back, so needy, this was the only conclusion.”

He fucked his hand harshly into your sopping cunt at the end of his sentence, sending your mind reeling and your lungs gasping for air. Your plush walls encapsulated his fingers, you could feel the ridges of his knuckles deep inside of you. His finger pads prodded your sensitive spongy spot, and upon hearing your deep groan of pleasure, Levi aimed for that destination with every thrust.

“Feels so good,” you praised, your knuckles white from gripping the pillows above you. Levi still had his right fist around your throat, he could feel your esophagus tighten as every muscle in your body clenched.

With a hasty release, his right hand came down to pay your heaving breasts attention. His lips replaced his fingers, sucking harshly on the most sensitive parts of your throat. You were almost screaming as he plunged in and out of your pussy, your left nipple harshly being pulled with his other hand, his teeth sinking into your neck. Your clit was throbbing with need, your coil in your stomach desperately searching for any form of release.

“Levi,” you cried out loudly. “Wanna’ cum.”

“Are you asking or telling me?” he grumbled against the column on your neck.

“Asking, please, need you to touch my clit,” you begged, too far gone to care about vulgarity, clearing noting the ravenette’s disregard for formality in the heat of the moment.

He let out a ‘tch’ at the nape of your neck, and pulled his fingers from your dripping heat, “You’re not cumming unless it’s around my cock.”

With his soaked hand, he tore your shorts and panties down to your knees in one swift motion. You lifted your legs, allowing Levi to slide them down the rest of the way and throw them onto the floor. Stark naked and exposed completely to the man now, your knees bent in the air, Levi slapped the backs of your thighs. You whimpered, clenching around nothing upon impact. He let out a groan, tugging his button up over his head, not bothering with the buttons. Your hands left the safety of the pillows above your head, fumbling with the belt that rested on his hips. He met your hands, finishing the job for you. Belt unbuckled, slacks unzipped and freed, he stood quickly, shoving the pants and his briefs to the floor.

You jaw slacked in amazement at the sheer size of his cock. Levi was hung, his member standing tall and proud and mouth watering. He returned to you in an instant, positioning his lower half to align with your spread center. His dick throbbed at the wet contact of your vulva, teasing the head against your clit. You threw your head back, arching your back and angling your hips to allow Levi better leverage. His fist flew to the base of his aching length, roughly fucking himself above you. You could feel the tightness of his knuckles as he brushed against you, and you moaned out his name.

“Such a needy little slut,” Levi degraded you, face set in false anger. “Desperate for my cock, huh?”

“Yes, yes!” your eyes screwed shut, you could feel the pounding in your pussy. “Want you so fucking bad. Please fuck me.”

“Please, what?” he cocked an eyebrow, letting out a groan as his thumb pressed into the underside of his head.

“Please, sir,” you begged as a tear fell down your cheek.

“All you had to do was ask, gorgeous,” he chuckled darkly, sinking the tip into your tight little hole.

You thought he would enter you slowly to allow you to adjust to his enormous girth, you were sadly mistaken though as he plunged his entire length deep inside of your soaking pussy. You let out a strangled whimper, more tears rolling down to your chin. Levi wouldn’t give you the pleasure of patience, pulling out just enough to threaten his head falling out, snapping his hips right back until he brushed your cervix.

“Fuck,” Levi moaned loudly, his hands circling the tops of your thighs, throwing your ankles over his shoulders. “Feels so fucking good.”

All you could do was fist the bedsheets under you as he took you violently. Sobs of pleasure racked through your chest, tits bouncing at the sheer force of his thunderous thrusts. The sounds of your cunt squelching around his intrusion was deafening accompanied by the smack of the skin of his balls hitting your ass. Levi pounded mercilessly into your heat, searching for his own heights before addressing yours. Of course he wouldn’t cum before you did, but the way your pussy fluttered around him gave him clear signs that it wouldn’t take much to push you over the edge.

Levi let out an animalistic growl as his pace quickened, slapping the meat of your thighs as his grip adjusted your knees to your chest. He leaned forward, and in the dim lighting you could see the beads of sweat rolling down his forehead. His steel colored eyes were locked in with yours, lips parted as he breathed heavily from exertion. Levi could feel the burn in his hips as he gave you everything he could, fucking you as hard and as fast as he could.

You were nearly screaming, unable to bite back any noises at his assault. You felt his fingers slither around your neck once more, tightening dangerously around your windpipe. He could feel the collection of your tears in the dip of your throat, and his cock was throbbing at the sensation.

“Crying ‘cause it feels so good, aren’t you?” Levi snarled, placing his sweaty forehead to yours. When you didn’t answer, he released your throat to bring his wet palm in a roaring slap to your cheek, “Answer me.”

“Yes!” you screamed at the tops of your lungs, your cunt contracting at the stinging pain turned pleasure. “Please, please, please, let me cum!”

Levi barked out a groan as he felt your plush walls tighten, making his hips stutter in his rhythm. His free hand came down to your clit, slapping the top of your pussy with no real force. His thumb commenced its own pattern then, rubbing the engorged bud with vigorous intention. Levi plowed briskly, his climax on the horizon. You were quivering under him, fat tears leaking from your eyes as hiccups and whines left your throat. You could feel the soreness in your hole, and knew the second you came, you’d be squeezing the ever loving fuck out of Levi’s massive cock.

“So close,” you sniffled, vocals raw from the pressure of Levi’s fist clenched around your esophagus.

“Gonna’ cum all over me, pretty girl? Yeah, fuck, c’mon, my little fucking slut,” Levi’s eyes were smoldering, veins prominent in his neck as he approached his own release.

“Fuck fuck fuck, I’m cumming, I’m cumming,” your eyes attempted to close.

Levi slapped your cheek, “Keep your fucking eyes open, bitch. Don’t look away, wanna’ watch you.”

You nodded meekly, the build up in your stomach at its peak. His thumb circled faster, and you could feel every single motion in your pussy as he slammed his fat tip against your g-spot. It was too much, too intense, and you felt your coil snap as you clenched viciously around him.

With a loud gasp of air, not enough due to Levi’s fingers digging into your throat, you couldn’t stop yourself from bucking your hips. Your vision blurred over in thick tears, your skin was burning hot as Levi cursed above you. Your pussy contracted around him in a mind blowing flow, pleasure seeping in every pore and every cell in your body. If Levi had neighbors, or roommates, the noises you were making would be entirely concerning, sounding as if something gruesome was occurring in his home.

Levi was pushed out of your cunt from the pressure, and he dared not to slip back in your contracting hole out of fear of dumping his seed deep in your womb. He pushed your legs flat down after removing his touch from your clit, positioning his hips over yours as he fucked his fist at the same rapid pace he was drilling into your center. Loud moans escaped his parted lips, pistoning his pelvis with a death grip on his red swollen cock. Thick ropes of cum shot across your breasts, his thrusts never slowing.

You pushed your breasts together with your hands, fingers toying at your nipples to visually stimulate the man above you. He growled at the sight, “So fucking hot, yeah, take my fucking cum.”

He stilled, head thrown back as he let his girth fall from his grip, his cum oozing from his slit. You moaned at the sight, your mouth watering. Had you not been in such a hurry from the start, you would’ve gladly swallowed his cock down your throat, consuming every drop of his load. Maybe another time, if there would be one, you thought.

Your orgasms simultaneously slowed, until the two of you heaved heavily from the hard labor of the vigours fucking that had just occured. Levi moved off of you, grabbing tissues from his bedside table, and wiped up your torso. Before he could collect all of his cum though, you let a finger dip into a puddle in between your breasts, Levi’s eyes watching adamantly as you placed the digit on your tongue, rolling your eyes back into your head at the taste.

“You’re so needy,” he teased, a smirk crossing his exhausted face.

“Maybe,” you giggled breathlessly. “Maybe I just wanted a taste.”

Levi hummed, pushing back his dampened bangs from his forehead. He gazed at you in curiosity as you pushed your aching body off the bed, wincing at the indistinct soreness between your thighs, “I have clothes you can wear, don’t worry about giving them back either.”

Ah, so here came the awkward after the one night stand conversation. You smiled politely then, “I wasn’t worried. ‘Was gonna’ steal them one way or another.”

“Lucky I didn’t catch you then,” he mused, pushing himself off the mattress as well. “You’re welcome to take a shower, if you need to. I’m about to get in myself.”

“Nah, I should probably get home, it’s late,” you searched for your phone on the floor, finding it in your jacket pocket as you tapped on the Uber app.

“I can drop off the money tomorrow at the club, if you’re working,” Levi leaned against his bedroom wall, biting his lip as his demeanor changed back to his previous one from earlier.

You smirked, looking up at him through your eyelashes, “Baby, believe me, you couldn’t pay me to have sex like that. I wanted to fuck you, the money was just a fun little fantasy.”

Levi felt his ego inflate at your confession, his own lazy smirk rolling off his lips, “Let me pay for your Uber at least.”

And so he did, walking you out to the car when it arrived. You were swallowed whole by his comfortable clothing, and he placed a sweet kiss to your lips before you ducked your head into the vehicle, closing the door behind you. The car drove off swiftly, and Levi dug his hands in his pockets, walking back inside the comfort of his home to take that much needed shower.

The usual neon lights greeted you as you spun around the pole the next evening, less customers this time. You were feeling the undeniable soreness of your throat and center as you twirled around. Thankful for full coverage foundation to hide the bruises and marks littered across your entire body, no one had questioned why you were walking with such a limp. Well, aside from your favorite security guard.

“You’re off your game tonight,” Connie noted as you placed your sore body onto the bar stool. “Any reason why you can’t sit fully down without wincing?”

You flicked a unamused glance his way, “Any reason why you’re being so fucking nosy?”

“Just wondering why that guy left with last night has been following you around the club all night is all,” Connie took a swig from his beer mug, eyes batting to point behind you. “Hm, yes, very strange.”

You rolled your eyes, turning your head in the direction of his gaze. Your breath caught in your throat as Levi strided cooly over to you, a small smirk on his handsome face. He ordered a whiskey neat over the counter next to you, and cleared his throat as he finally looked into your eyes.

“Thought I’d actually get to catch your dance this time,” Levi greeted. “Y’know, since I missed it last night.”

You heard Connie snort obnoxiously, and your eyes threw daggers in warning. Connie threw his hands up to mock surrender, taking his drink and walking away. You returned your attention to the ravenette beside you, “Just couldn’t stay away, could you?”

“Just couldn’t get you off my mind,” his eyes trailed to the pout of your lips. “When does your shift end?”

“In a few hours, why?”

“I wanna’ see what kind of place a girl like you can afford,” he smirked. “Maybe get a private dance this time.”

“You do pay pretty well,” you flirted, trailing your fingers up to the collar of the fashionable black sweater. “Guess it wouldn’t hurt.”

“I’ll make it worth the pain,” Levi breathed out cockily, swiping his thumb over the swell of your bottom lip. “Wouldn’t want to get out of here now, would’ya?”

“I guess I could for the right price,” you parted your lips, lightly biting down on the tip of his digit.

Levi didn’t respond, instead he grabbed your wrists and led you impatiently out the door. You’d text Connie later and have him hold your tips until your next shift. You had a very important client to dance for.

#levi x reader #levi smut #levi ackerman #levi ackerman x reader #attack on titan fanfiction #aot levi #attack on titan levi #aot smut #aot fanfiction #snk levi #snk fanfiction #tw: degradation #tw: slapping #levi #levi x you #levi x y/n

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xpeachesncream · 3 years

Note

could i ask a request? an aiko drabbles of she seeing reader and taehyung together. please? thank you!

perfectly wrong | drabble [9]: when you and taehyung run into aiko at the movies and she’s still bitter.

word count: 1.7k

warnings: cussing, implied sexual content, miss sassy pants y/n and we love to see it cause tae can handle his baby

"Tae!" You laughed loudly as he carried you on his back, galloping like a mad man as you both made your way from the garage to the movie theater.

"I told you it was faster that way." You drop down from his back as you both come into full view of the theater box office.

"Look at you, all tired and shit now."

"I don't know why you're complaining when you didn't have to do any work, missy." You laugh as you playfully shove him to the side. Tonight, you and Taehyung decided last minute that you both wanted to head out and watch a late night movie at the new fancy theater nearby. This new and fancy theater was the kind of movie theater that served you food and drinks right at your seat, with the added bonus of comfy, reclining chairs.

The sweet, sweet life.

"What do you wanna watch?" Taehyung's puppy eyes are glued to the board with all the movies and times listed. There was a good mix of new and older movies showing.

"Moana." His lips are sealed into a fine, thin line.

"What do you actually wanna watch?"

"Did I not just name a movie?"

"Rise of Skywalker? Nice!" He says, raising his hand for you to high-five. You return the high-five simply because he was your boyfriend, but you continued to shake your head.

"Let's watch Knives Out." He nods in agreement.

"Actually, I'm down for that one. I'm a fan of Chris Evans." You laugh.

"Yeah, same." He looks at you with a blank expression.

"Mm, actually nevermind." You playfully hit him as he realizes that you'd be gushing over Chris Evans during the entire movie.

"Oh quit, I'm obviously not the only one who'll be gushing over him."

"Look young lady, if I hear one word about how big his muscles are, you're leaving and I'm staying." You laugh.

"Go buy the tickets, Taehyung." You stand aside, waiting for Taehyung to buy the movie tickets. The theater wasn't too crowded, either because it was still too new or because it was a little later in the evening than most people would like - either way, you were okay with it. You didn't have to talk to people from campus or run into anyone you or Taehyung knew.

Except, you realize you've spoken too soon when you look around and realize who's standing a couple of feet away from you.

Aiko.

She's standing around with two other friends, but it looks like she had spotted you before you spotted her. She's keeping her gaze on you as she talks to her friend, her friend trying to slyly look back at you but failing miserably.

Girl, I really wish you would try me.

You for sure haven't forgotten the way she came at you during Jin's party, like you were the sole reason as to why her world came crumbling down on her.

"Uh?" Taehyung furrows his brows as he holds out the tickets. "Babe, you alright? Why do you look so annoyed?"

"Ohhhh, it's nothing." You smile through the annoyance she had brought onto you.

"Funny that you think I don't know you well enough." He turns to follow your gaze, watching Aiko start to strut her way over. He sighs when he returns his attention to you and squeezes your hand to try and relax you. "Come, let's just go inside."

"Hey guys, nice seeing you two here." Aiko says, batting her eyelashes at you and Taehyung innocently.

"Uh, hey." He turns to you. "Y/N? Let's go."

"Aiko." You flatly greet her.

"Happy to see it's actually working out between you two."

"Thanks." You copy her tone and scrunch your nose, hoping she'd catch on to the attitude making its way through. Honestly, Aiko was still bitter about how things went down. She's bitter because for awhile, Taehyung made it seem like she was the one who could change him. He made it seem like she was the one he was dropping all his stupid games for. She thought this was going to her. That's why she was so quick to leave Jin because Taehyung was so fucking good at woo'ing her and making her fall head over heels for him. Just down to the way he touched her and fucked her. The familiar, over-used sweet nothings he'd tell her.

Aiko's bitter. She's triggered. She really hates the fact that she had to run into you both, together.

Yeah, and you hate thinking about it. You hate thinking about the time your man had spent with her and what that was possibly like.

It made your skin crawl.

"Y/N, the movie." Taehyung says, no longer saying another word to Aiko. They were treating each other like long time exes, almost like how he was with Hana. Maybe this was just Taehyung's way of pushing people out when he didn't know how to deal.

"Okay." You respond as you give Aiko one last look before you and Taehyung are walking off to head inside.

"You know you don't need to be like that right?"

"Like what?"

"Little miss sassy pants."

"She didn't have to say anything in the first place. No one was looking for her." You looked at him, confused. Truly. Why did she have to look at you like that? Why did she have to talk to you to her friends like that? Girl, you don't know me. This was not your problem to deal with.

"Baby." Taehyung chuckles, shaking his head. He wasn't even surprised, he knew you always had this fire in you and there was really no way to put it out. "Not even worth the energy." He grabs your hand and leads the way to the theater.

As you both sit down and take a look at the menu to order some things, Taehyung leaves you alone for a second to use the bathroom. You were texting your friends when you had seen Taehyung's phone light up next to you. Typically, you don't really care what's going on in Taehyung's phone. You weren't that girl. However, your eyes drifted towards the screen for a quick second only to see a Snapchat notification from Aiko and a text.

You didn't even know he still had her name in the books like that.

"Baby, the bathrooms here are—" He proceeds to sign chef's kiss, but then realizes you were just staring at him. "Huh? What is it?" He looks down at his phone and checks the screen.

"I didn't even know you had her number still."

"I wasn't gonna go out of my way to delete it." He catches himself. "Wait, that came out wrong. I mean, after everything happened, it wasn't necessarily first on my list." You understood what he was saying but you just shrugged it off anyway.

"This must be important, being that she was just mad as fuck at you." He sighs and quickly opens the app to check the snap with you. He presses the notification, only to show her in a very seductive selfie photo. Cleavage in full view, biting onto a finger and hair all arranged to look semi-messy?

"Beats me." He lets go of the box to remove the snap. "I just feel like things could have worked out better if we had a proper conversation." He reads her text out loud.

"She really wants you." He swipes left to delete the text from his inbox before smirking at you and putting you in a gentle headlock.

"Mm, but I want this lady right here." You giggle as he showers your face with tons of kisses. He had let you free once he realized the flatbread you ordered was coming your way. He clapped happily and began to dig in.

"Can I ask you something?"

"Whatever you want, love."

"Were you really interested in her?" He shrugged.

"For a minute, I really didn't think I would be able to work things out with you. I really, really wanted to be with you before Aiko even came in the picture, but I was scared and the whole thing with Jungkook at the time was making it hard for me." You nodded.

"I'm just curious."

"So, I guess that's why she's mad. I kind of did give her that false hope." He chuckles. "But also, I mean, it's me."

"Taehyung, shut the hell up. You caused so many issues." You chuckled as you bit into your flatbread piece.

"Yesssss and I apologized, right?" He elongates his yes. You simply nod and take a sip of your cocktail. "Okay, then all is well. We're past this and she isn't in the picture. You are." He was right, there was really no use of being bitter or getting sassy about it. No matter what Aiko tried to do or say, he wasn't here with her. It was you.

Aiko was just gonna have to deal.

A couple of days later, you were working a shift at Jin's café with Jungkook. It hadn't been too busy, but there was a moment where things picked up and all three of you were busting your ass to get orders out. As time went out and things settled, Jin was able to fix whatever he needed to in the kitchen, while you and Jungkook held the fort down at the front.

"Who uses snapchat anymore?" Jin comes out of the kitchen, fiddling on his phone.

"Why?" You and Jungkook were rearranging the pastries.

"Aiko sent me a snapchat."

"Funny, she sent Taehyung one a couple of days ago when we ran into her at the movies."

"You ran into her?" Jungkook asks, taking the tongs out of your hands. "How'd that go?"

"Kind of awkward? She came up to us out of nowhere just to be like waaaaow so happy it's working out between you two." You mocked her tone again.

"At least she said she's happy about it." Jin joked in typical Jin fashion.

"What's the snap she sent you?" Jin presses down on the box to show the same exact photo she had sent Taehyung.

"Yah! Look!" Jin laughed, Jungkook going around to look over his shoulder.

"She has nice boobies."

"Oy! Inappropriate!" You bop Jungkook on the head before quickly leaning over and taking a look again. "She sent the same one to Tae."

"Should I send her the eyes?"

"No, no. Don't. Send her a thumbs up since that's all you ever send people." Jin and Jungkook start cracking up, making you walk away from their chaos.

#bts #bts fanfiction #taehyung fanfiction #taehyung #kim taehyung #taehyung x reader #kth x reader #writing #perfectly wrong #perfectly wrong drabbles #kth series #taehyung fluff #bts fluff #kim taehyung fluff #kth fluff

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nautiscarader · 3 years

Note

wendip 14

(Ao3)

Wendy Corduroy never expected *that* to happen in a weirder place. Frankly, she wasn't sure that it would happen any time soon, but if she would guess, she wouldn't have chosen their travel van, parked on an Appalachian trail, just a few hundred feet from a cave where they have just found proof that the Bell Pepper Witch was real (and quite a nice person, actually).

And yet, there he was...

Dipper Pines, her boyfriend, with whom she has spent the last two weeks on the road, was on his knee, holding a familiar object - a malachite, green ring, now definitely without any curses lingering on. Wendy now realised why did he need to visit that witch again...

- Wendy Blerble Corduroy - he spoke with quivering voice - Will you make me... - Yes!

Wendy didn't let him finish, before her strong arms brought him from his knees and let him collapse on her chest, as the two slumped onto the elongated seat, while their mouths kept searching for each other.

She was already a wreck of emotions, boiling inside her head, and his kisses were only bringing more of them. If someone asked her yesterday, if she was ready for marriage, she would have scoffed at them, saying she preferred her life the way it is now.

And yet, the moment she saw Dipper, her entire world view has changed, and once more with the help of the chestnut-haired man she would now be able to call her fiance.

As their kiss went on, Wendy's hand slipped between their heated bodies, reaching for his belt, but his hands were faster and soon her finger was adorned with the ring Dipper wanted to present her before they'd inevitably celebrate.

- There, now we can-

And once more, Wendy's lips were on his, but now her hand was gently pushing him down her body, back into the position he started with.

- If you like the tradition so much, then get back on your knee, lover-boy.

Her fingers entwined with his slightly ruffled hair, as she gently settled on the edge of their van's seat, spreading her legs to accommodate her lover.

Dipper's hands moved her hips gently into the air to slide her pants, together with her panties in one quick swoop. Instead of tossing them to the side, they just dangled around one of her ankles, as the two young adults were too preoccupied with each other.

Dipper's kisses adorned the underside of her thighs closing on her puffy lips adorned with her neatly trimmed red bush that guided him towards it.

It was a satisfying experience to hear Wendy's usually calm and restrained voice break and uncover the needy, impatient side of hers, while Dipper's tongue caressed her sex, ensuring that every square inch of her will not be left unkissed.

- Yes... yes... - Is that all you're going to say? - he asked suddenly, looking up from between her thighs, and seeing a mischievous gleam in her emerald eyes. - Yes. - she answered at once, pushing him back into place, as she relaxed against the pillows.

She didn't have to act at all; the feeling of Dipper's tongue moving in-and-out of her pussy made her repeat that word like a mantra, until her legs twitched, nearly bumping into one of the cabinets.

She almost lost it, when his fingers brushed and then circled around her clit, and his name as almost spilled out of her mouth, but when she was about to do it, their eyes met, and she saw a satisfied grimace on his face, or rather part of his face that was visible.

- You liked it, didn't you? You want me to keep teasing you for next week and a half, don't you? - ...yes. - she said somewhat sternly, commenting on Dipper's deliberate choice of prolonging the foreplay, receiving only a victorious grin in return.

But soon he was back on track, kissing, nibbling and sucking on her folds, while her ring finger slid across his head.

Wendy kept repeating her only allowed word, her hand pressing his lips against her sex, knowing well she will soon taste the results of his work in her mouth when they will kiss.

And indeed, a moment later her body shook with first, powerful wave of climax, followed by a few weaker ones that made her body thrash, and gently rocked the van from side to side.

- Yes! Yes! Yes! - she moaned, trying to stay within the silly predicament she's created for herself.

When Dipper emerged from between her legs, she expected him to tease her with more question she wouldn't be able to answer, but fortunately, he asked a much simpler one, as he started fumbling with his belt.

- I think it's your time to get down on your knees...

Dipper said cockily, and this time, Wendy replied without any hint of sarcasm or disdain.

- Yes.

And with that, she effortlessly slid to the ground, partially by how shaky her legs were, as the orgasm still radiated through her body. She looked up at her boyfriend, sitting now in her seat, one of the rare moments where he truly was taller than her. She reached to his zipper and slid down his pants and trousers in one go, freed his cock, sampling the familiar musk and just a bit of his cologne.

She remembered the first time she tasted him, on his eighteenth birthday. Poor Dipper couldn't last twenty seconds before erupting in her mouth. He did make up for his eagerness later, though, making the night unforgettable for her as well...

It was time for her to feel blissful moan from above her head, as Dipper proclaimed his love for her again, throwing his head back and letting her take care of him.

But Wendy wasn't going just to kiss and lick him. Her fingers slid up and down his shaft, making sure her new ring caressed every ridge it could find, contrasting its cold with warmth of her palm.

- Oh, yes... - he gasped, looking down at the red-head.

She closed her lips around his cock and as her tongue circled around his head, she murmured something, without taking eyes from her future husband. She spoke slowly, making sure that her voice vibrated along his cock, caressing him in the most delicate of ways.

- We-Wendy! - he moaned - That's-that's cheating!

And though he couldn't recognise her before, her next word that reverberated against his skin was definitely "Yes".

She continued praising him, telling him how much she loved him, and how she was afraid when he leapt off that mountain a few weeks ago... With all of her feelings rushing back, she bobbed her head, knowing what will happen soon.

Wendy took one more breath of air and welcomed the taste and smell of her nerd's seed in her mouth, slowly coating her palate, as he kept spilling her name over and over again.

- Wendy... Wendy...

And just to give him extra bit of pleasure, she talked to him again, with her mouth closed around his head, to ensure that not a drop of his saltiness would leak out.

- Did... did you enjoy the drink?

Dipper received a loud, guttural gulp, as Wendy swallowed his hefty load, and proudly showed her empty mouth, which answered his question better than any words.

She jumped from her knees into his laps in a split of a second, making their lips meet, allowing the two to taste each other's scents, while their half-naked bodies coiled on the small seat.

With her crotch sliding back and forth against his cock, he came back to full power in no time, and Dipper had no problem slipping in in, as the two began making love, for the first time no longer as just boyfriend and girlfriend...

- Wendy... - he huffed, feeling her warmth enveloping him - We're-we're gonna be living together... - Yes... - she replied,. unable to hide her excitement - And...and have adventures every day... - Yes...! - And... and file joined taxes!

Their eyes met, as she shot him with a piercing, icy stare, about to start their first row as an engaged couple.

- Sorry, had to test you.

Using her moment of indecision, Dipper flipped her to her back, watching as her eyes widen for a split of a second, before they were filled with the familiar warm and excited look. Though the angle wasn't as optimal as he wished, his hips rolled back and forth, making powerful thrusts, which resulted in Wendy forgiving him for tricking her.

- Yes... yes...yes!

Wendy spilled this word between kisses to her neck, cheeks and her breasts, while his grunts grew in intensity and volume, minute by minute, until they culminated with Dipper stuttering his warning.

- W-Wendy - he huffed - I'm gonna- - Yes! - But are you- - Yes...

Wendy spoke in a smoky, low voice, fixating her emerald eyes with him, mimicking the same, sly expression he wore when he taunted her..

- W-Wait, Wendy - he asked, stopping his hips, much to Wendy's disappointment - Was-was that a "yes" for "yes", or "yes" for "no"...?

Suddenly Dipper felt the lock of her legs tightening behind his back, as the red-head brought his face against hers and whispered.

- Yes... - Oh, gods, I love you, Wendy...

And just in case her soon-to-be-husband was going to chicken out, she crossed her arms behind his back and dug her nails into his shoulders, to ensure he would deliver exactly what she wanted, exactly the way she desired. Wendy's worries were unsubstantiated - as Dipper would find it very difficult to pull out, even if he wanted to. The sheer thought that he was making love not to his girlfriend, but his fiancée, gave him enough willpower to continue

His final cry was as shattering and embarrassing as every single one she heard so far, but now it came from the mouth of her soon-to-be husband, and her name made her tighten her muscles a moment before her body gave up together with his.

- We-We will need a proper, big house, won't we? - Yes...

Wendy's words kept spilling into Dipper's ears just as his seed flowed closer to her womb with each pulse. Her words mixed with Dipper's grunts, as the two slowly calmed down, enjoying the serene, quiet moment they've just made more magical.

For the longest time, the two lay in each other's arms, savouring their mixed scents and warmth, as their breathing slowly became regular again.

- So, mr Corduroy... - Wendy spoke, as she regained her senses - Did you like my gift? - Yes... - Dipper murmured, still buried between her freckled breasts - And would you like more of it? - Yes! - And would you like to actually set up the bed instead of doing it on this small-ass kitchen seat? - Yes... - And are you gonna do this to me every day from now on, and make me breakfast in bed?

Without hesitation, Dipper leaned forward and kissed her.

- Yes.

The two laughed before their lips met again, and the cycle of love began anew. Wendy never clarified what her "yes" meant, but a few weeks later she revealed what her wedding gift was - and to their excitement, it was definitely positive.

#wendip #lemon #smutember #day 14 #nautiscaraderfics #aged-up characters and all that #smutember 2021 #smutember2021

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allthingsfangirl101 · 3 years

Text

Unexpected Friends–Matt Brody

Wattpad Request by violetartsybabe

After high school, I decided to take a break from school. Instead of going to college, I moved to Santa Monica and started working at a boutique.

On Friday, after a particularly busy week, I decided to drink away the stress. I was sitting at the bar, not even one drink finished when I was approached. The second the guy walked up to me, I could smell that he'd been here longer than I had. A lot longer.

"Hi," he smirked as he plopped down onto the barstool next to me.

"Hello," I said, not looking at him. I took a sip of my drink, praying that this guy would take the hint and leave.

He didn't.

"Can I buy you your next round?" He asked. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see him checking me out from head to toe. In my head, I nicknamed him Asshole.

"No thanks," I sighed.

"Come on, baby," he chuckled. "Let me buy you a drink."

"I already said no," I said, my anger building.

"Just one?" He pressed. I finally turned towards him, not bothering to hide my scowl.

"I've already told you twice that I was good," I said through my teeth.

"You look like you could use some company," he chuckled. "And no girl should drink alone."

"Wow," I sighed. "Alright, I guess it's come to this. Leave me alone, Asshole. I had a really shitty day at work and just wanted to have a few drinks by myself. So, I'd appreciate it if you'd leave me alone."

"I'm just trying to help you have a better night," he smirked as he put his hand on my exposed knee. I quickly grabbed it before it could go too high and roughly tore it off of me.

"I don't know how else to say this nicely so I'm gonna have to do it more forcefully," I said through my teeth. I turned towards him as I took a calming breath.

"Fuck off."

"Wow," he smirked. "That's quite the mouth you have there. I'd like to see what else you can do with it."

"Seriously?" I scoffed. Before I could continue tearing this guy's self-confidence into shreds, another guy stepped up behind him, putting his hand roughly on Asshole's shoulder.

"Hey," he said through his teeth, "I believe she told you to fuck off."

I glanced at the new guy as Asshole turned towards him. New Guy looked at Asshole before glancing over at me, sending me a reassuring smile.

"And you are?" Asshole chuckled, making New Guy look away from me.

"He's my boyfriend," I quickly spoke up.

New Guy looked over at me and plastered on the perfect boyfriend smile as he walked over to stand behind me. He draped his arm over my shoulders, standing protectively behind me. He made it so Asshole could see his angry glare, but I couldn't.

Asshole looked between the two of us before clearing his throat. Without saying anything, he stood up and left. I let out a sigh of relief when he was out of earshot.

"Thank you," I sighed as New Guy laughed and walked over, sitting where Asshole was just sitting.

"Well, what kind of guy would I be if I let a guy like that hit on a girl like you?"

"A girl like me?" I playfully challenged.

"I just meant a girl who knows what she wants and what she doesn't want," he chuckled. "She doesn't deserve a guy who likes what he sees and thinks he deserves it."

"Well," I chuckled, "I guess I'm lucky a guy like you was nearby."

"A guy like me?" He teased.

"Sure," I shrugged. "A guy who sees a girl in need and comes to her rescue, expecting nothing in return."

I smirked knowingly as he reached up and scratched the back of his head.

"Maybe not nothing," he annunciated.

"That's fair," I sighed. "Maybe a little something in return."

"I'm Matt," he chuckled as he held his hand out for me to shake. I hesitated before reaching out and shaking his hand.

"I'm Y/N."

* * * * *

Nothing happened with that guy from the bar. We stayed and drank for an hour but then he had to go. He didn't tell me why. He just said it was getting late and he had to run. I didn't think too much about it.

It's been a week since I ran into that guy and I've decided that I needed a change. As much fun as the boutique has been to work at, I was started to get in a rut. I didn't have much of a variety to my schedule or even my days. So, that's why I left my boutique job and became a lifeguard.

On my first day, I walked into the main lifeguard shack/office and found my new boss, Mitch Buchannon.

"You must be Y/N," a tall African-American man greeted as he walked out of the office.

"That's me," I greeted.

"Well," he chuckled. "Come on in and we will get you all sorted."

After going over the paperwork, my daily duties, and any questions I had, Mitch decided to show me around the beach. We stood up and as we left his office, I heard a familiar voice.

"Y/N?"

I looked up to see Matt Brody standing in the doorway. I bit my lip as he chuckled.

"You two know each other?" Mitch asked, looking between the two of us.

"Yeah," Matt laughed. "We met a couple of days ago."

"He saved me from an asshole at the bar," I added.

"Really?" Mitch smirked. "You saved a poor damsel in distress?"

"More like saved a poor asshole from getting punched in the balls by said damsel," Matt joked.

Mitch looked at me with raised eyebrows. I just shrugged, not wanting to dignify that comment with a positive or negative response. The two men laughed as Mitch led me outside.

"Hey," Matt called out to me. I turned on my heel to see Matt smirking at me.

"Yes," I teasingly elongated.

"I didn't know you got hired," he said, shoving his hands into his pockets.

"Well, when we met, I hadn't," I shrugged. "I started looking for a new job a couple of days after we met. I found this one and Mitch hired me right away."

"Cool," he chuckled, kind of awkwardly. "Looks like we're working together."

"Looks like it."

* * * * *

I've been working as a lifeguard for over a month now. I've gotten along really well with everyone, especially Matt. Sometimes, he can be kind of a jerk and he loves pranks, but he can also be really good company. He acts childish, but when he needs to he can have a serious conversation that helps a lot.

He's the reason I decided to go to college. He helped me figure out my major and choose my classes. He even talked to Mitch about moving my work schedule around my school schedule.

I had just finished my midterms as was getting ready to head to work when I saw someone in the middle of campus that I thought I'd never see again: my ex-boyfriend, Lucas Tillman.

Lucas and I dated all through high school. He used to think we'd always be high school sweethearts. That was until he found out I wasn't planning on going to college. The night I told him I was going to take a year or two off, he dumped me.

I put my head down as I quickly walked through campus, praying that he didn't see me. I gasped when I bumped into someone. I looked up, my breath getting caught in my throat when Lucas was holding onto my arms like I was about to fall.

"Y/N?" He chuckled. I took a step back, making his arms fall back to his sides.

"Lucas," I said, my voice getting caught in my throat.

"What the hell are you doing here?" He chuckled.

"I umm. . . I go here," I stuttered.

"No, you don't," he scoffed. "There's no way you got into this school."

As he continued to laugh, I tightened my grip on my books. I was biting back tears as he finally stopped laughing.

"Look, Y/N," he said, still slightly laughing. "If you wanted to see me, you could've just called."

"I didn't want to see you," I whispered to myself.

"So," he said. "Want to go get a drink or dinner or something?"

"I'm good," I said as I tried to walk away. I gasped when he grabbed my hand, stopping me.

"You came all this way," he said as he slowly pulled me closer to him.

"Lucas," I stuttered. "I'm not interested. . . I really don't. . . I have to go."

I let out a sigh of relief when he let go of me. That relief shattered when I saw his glare. "After everything we went through, you're just going to walk away?"

"You did," I said, trying to gather my courage. "Lucas, you broke up with me after high school when I said I needed a break from school. You said you couldn't be with someone who wasn't going anywhere. Well, I have gone somewhere. For the last two years, I worked at a boutique. Now, I'm going to school while working as a lifeguard."

"You're working as a lifeguard?" He asked. I sighed as I nodded. "I break up with you and you suddenly decide to get your life together?"

"Get my life together?" I laughed. "I told you I just needed a year or two off. It's not like I was planning on never going to school. I just wanted to take some time to figure out what I wanted to do. You're the one who dumped me. And now that I have my life figured out, you aren't in it."

"Just wait," he laughed as I left. "You need me, Y/N. And whether you know it or not, you'll be back."

* * * * *

I walked into the main lifeguard shack, still on edge from running into Lucas. After I got ready, I walked out of the locker room right as Matt walked into the shack.

"Hey, Y/N," he greeted. "How was class?"

"It was fine," I said.

"Whoa," he said, stopping me before I could leave. "What's wrong? You look like you've seen something you shouldn't."

"It's nothing," I tried to say.

"Y/N," he said, his voice soft and gentle. "What happened?"

"It's really not. . ."

"Y/N," he cut me off.

"I ran into my ex," I sighed. "It's just. . . We were together all through high school but broke up after graduation."

"What happened?"

I scoffed as I rolled my eyes and sat down on the couch. Matt studied me before sitting next to me.

"The night before graduation, we were talking about what came next," I started. "He had his whole life planned out. He knew what college he was going to, what classes, what degree, what year he'd graduate, what job he'd get after. He had everything figured out. I didn't."

I took a shaky breath as Matt reached over and grabbed my hand. He intertwined our fingers, squeezing my hand in reassurance.

"When I told him I didn't know what I wanted to do, he got angry. He kept saying that I had to figure it out. I just remember stuttering as he yelled at me. Then I blurted out that I was going to take a year or two off to figure it out. He. . . He didn't like that."

"That's why he dumped you?" Matt asked when he found his voice. I glanced up at him to see his jaw angrily clenched. When I nodded, Matt angrily grunted.

"What an ass," he said mostly to himself. "If the guy truly cared about you, he would've supported you. He would've helped you figure out what it is you wanted to do."

"Like you did?"

I held my breath as he looked over at me. His eyes softened as I started to nervously ramble. "I mean. . . The night we first met at the bar, I told you I had taken a few years off and you said you understood. Then you started helping me figure out what I should do with the rest of my life. You weren't judgy. You weren't pushy. You supported me."

He opened his mouth to say something but was interrupted by the door opening. I let go of his hand and stood up, walking over to my locker. I grabbed my stuff and headed outside for my shift without saying anything else to Matt.

The entire time I was on duty, I kept thinking about what I said. Ever since I started working as a lifeguard, I started spending more time with Matt. And the more time I spent with him, the more I started to like him. I tried to resist falling for him but my crush got bigger each day we worked together.

A few days later, I was on duty and saw Lucas walking towards me. I turned on my heel and started heading towards the lifeguard shack. I was just about to walk inside, but Lucas caught up to me. I gasped as he grabbed my elbow and roughly turned me around.

"Hey, babe," he smirked at me. I looked down at his hand still roughly holding my elbow.

"I'm not. . . I'm not your babe anymore."

"You weren't," he said through his teeth. "But you can be."

"I don't want to be."

"You are nothing without me," Lucas scoffed. "Face it, Y/N. You need me."

"No," I said, finally tearing my arm out of his hold. "I don't need you. I sure as hell don't want you."

"Come on," he scoffed.

"No!" I yelled interrupting him. He looked at me, shocked that I had stood up for myself. Even throughout our relationship, I never disagreed with him. I definitely never yelled at him. But not anymore. I would no longer allow this man to control my life.

"You broke up with me, Lucas," I continued, oblivious to the sudden audience. "You were the one who ended this. I was willing to do long distance, but you weren't willing to stand by me as I figured out what I wanted to do. You told me that you couldn't be with someone who wasn't driven. Well, I am. I just needed time."

"Drive doesn't need time," he scoffed. "You are either ready to go or not."

"That's not true," I said, trying to take back over the conversation. "You can be driven if you don't know where you're going."

"No, you cant." He said through his teeth. When he started laughing, I knew I had lost the power in the conversation. "I was right! I was right to dump you in high school. You weren't going anywhere back then and you still aren't. Look around, Y/N."

When he said that, I finally noticed that Matt was standing outside the lifeguard shack. By the look on his face, I could tell that he had been standing there longer than I knew.

"You're barely working," Lucas laughed, breaking mine and Matt's staring contest. "This is a summer job for a high schooler, Y/N. Not a job for an adult. You should've been going to school and working towards a real career. What? You want to be a lifeguard the rest of your life?"

"No, I. . ." I stuttered.

"Seriously, Y/N," he scoffed. "You need to grow up. I know you sucked in high school, but you won't go anywhere without a degree. I thought you were smarter than that. What? Were you just waiting for a guy to come around and take care of you? You can't depend on a guy to put a roof over your head and food on the table. Do you really think a guy is going to want to marry a girl who's lazy, no degree, no ambition? Guys don't want to marry a girl just to become her caretaker. That's her job. He's not your father, Y/N. Then again, your father left you when you were young so how would you know?"

"Hey!"

We both turned around to see Matt angrily walking towards us. The second he got to us, he turned to me and completely ignored Lucas.

"Are you okay?" He asked under his breath. I nodded, taken back by his sudden outburst and now the concern in his eyes.

"And now you," Matt said through his teeth as he turned around. I felt a blush build as he positioned himself so he was in-between us. "I'm having a hard time understanding why you would speak to a woman like that."

"Who the hell are you?" Lucas asked, glaring around Matt at me.

"I'm Matt," he introduced. "I work with Y/N."

Lucas laughed as he folded his arms over his chest. He glanced at me and scoffed.

"Really?" Lucas challenged. "You spend your days with this Backstreet Boy Reject?"

"Lucas," I sighed.

"Wow," he laughed. "Good to know you're surrounding yourself with quality people, Y/N. I was worried you'd be all alone in your world of No Drive."

"Hey!" Matt yelled again. "I'm only asking you this nicely once. Back off. Turn around and leave."

"Leave?" Lucas challenged. "Really? Last I checked, this didn't concern you. There is no reason you should be in this conversation. I don't even know who you are, Lifeguard. Why don't you go build a sandcastle or something?"

I gasped when Lucas threateningly pushed Matt. I held my breath, waiting for Matt to react. Matt just laughed as he rolled his shoulders.

"Now," Lucas said with a smirk on his face. "If you don't mind, I would like to finish telling this useless girl that she'll amount to nothing."

Without warning, Matt swung his fist, connecting it to Lucas's jaw. I was frozen as Lucas collapsed to the ground. I looked back up at Matt to see him smirking.

"If you keep running your mouth," Matt threatened, "a broken nose will be the least of your problems."

Lucas stood up and angrily glared at Matt. He drifted his eyes to me and his glare darkened.

"She's not worth getting into a fight," Lucas tried to get one last comment in as he turned on his heel and left. Matt just scoffed as he rolled his eyes.

"That's one guy's opinion."

* * * * *

After Matt punched Lucas, he stormed off. I didn't get a chance to talk to him before my shift started. I tried to find him but I had no idea where he went.

Throughout my entire shift, I kept searching the beach for Matt. Whenever I went back to the shack, he still wasn't there. I tried to force myself to focus on my job, but I couldn't stop thinking about how Matt stood up for me.

I sighed as I walked into the shack after my shift, I looked around again. My heart sank when my eyes landed on Matt's empty desk.

"He still hasn't come back," Mitch said.

"Where the hell did he go?" I asked, mainly to myself.

"What happened?" Mitch asked as he walked over and leaned on the edge of my desk. "He came in here a few hours ago fuming. He kept mumbling to himself as he grabbed his things and left."

I sighed as I ran my fingers through my hair. "The thing is. . . A few days ago, I ran into my ex. He came back today and tried to force me to get back with him. Matt came over and intervened."

"And by intervened you mean he beat his ass?" Mitch asked with a small smirk.

"No," I said, clearing my throat.

"But?" Mitch asked.

"He may have broken his nose."

My comment made the both of us laugh. I sighed as I leaned back, subconsciously biting my bottom lip. I ignored Mitch's gaze as I played with my fingers.

"Y/N," Mitch started hesitantly. "What's going on with you and Matt?"

"What do you mean?" I stuttered.

"I don't know," he shrugged. "Ever since you started working here, Matt's been different."

"Different how?"

"Well, for starters, he works harder, he’s more focused, and he doesn't goof off as much. Oh, and he asked if he can be put on the same schedule as you."

"He did?" I asked, my voice getting caught in my throat. Mitch just smiled at me, patting me on the back as he walked outside.

I slowly got my stuff together, my mind still circling around the idea of Matt switching his schedule so he can work with me. As I headed out to my car, I noticed someone sitting on the lifeguard shack down the beach.

I smiled when I recognized it was Matt. I hesitated before walking towards him. He must've heard me coming because he looked over his shoulder at me. He smiled as I walked over and sat on the edge next to him.

"You kind of disappeared on me," I said, breaking the silence.

"I'm sorry about that," he sighed. "I just. . . Listening to that guy talk to you that way. . . I'm sorry, Y/N. Maybe I shouldn't have punched him, but you didn't deserve that. I don't care who he thinks he is. No one should talk to you like that. You took some time to figure out what you want to do with your life. So what? It doesn't change how amazing you are. It doesn't change how incredible you are. It doesn't change anything about you. You're a hard worker, dedicated, generous, funny, kind, beautiful girl and if he can't. . ."

"Matt," I said his name, softly cutting him off.

He bit his bottom lip as he looked up at me. I couldn't help but hold my breath as he glanced down at my lips. When his eyes returned to mine, he smiled like he made up his mind.

Matt leaned in and softly pressed his lips to mine. I hesitated before kissing him back. As our lips started moving in sync, we both started to relax. I wrapped my arms around his neck as he wrapped his arms around my waist.

I was the first to break the kiss, leaning my forehead against his. We were silent as we caught our breaths. Matt leaned back and smiled down at me.

"I don't deserve you," I whispered.

"Yes, you do," he sighed with a small laugh. He leaned in and pressed a gentle kiss to my lips. He pulled away, still smiling at me.

"Can I confess something to you?" He asked after a few seconds of hesitation.

"Of course," I said, my head still a little spinny from the kiss.

"I've had an embarrassingly big crush on you since I saved you from that asshole in the bar," he said not looking away from me. "And when you started working here, it just got bigger."

"Really?" I asked, my voice barely audible. I bit my lip when he nodded. "Because I've had this big crush on you since you saved me from that asshole."

Matt smiled as he reached up and tucked a piece of hair behind my ear, his hand lingering on my cheek.

"I'm crazy about you, Y/N," he whispered, his voice giving me chills. "Can I take you on a date?"

"I'd really like that, Matt."

#matt brody #matt brody imagines #baywatch #baywatch imagine #zac efron #zac efron imagines #zac efron x reader

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wickedgamesoyaoya · 3 years

Note

Me again! For your 900 event! Let’s go fluff-ish! And we both know I’m going to pick Makki because I am obsessed with the way you write him! And let’s go for the quote “I am a damsel. I’m in distress. I can handle this. Have a nice day.” And whichever format fits better for what you imagine!! Thanks friend! Congrats again!! Can’t wait to read them all!

A plastic bag containing a dozen cans of spaghetti-o’s was wrapped around your palms as you dragged your feet forward, demanding your body to continue without complaint. The unequal weight distribution marked your palms in deep slashes, yet you refused to request help. Squinting at the familiar figure ahead of you, a bitter grunt clawed at your throat.

How the hell was he carrying four times your load with such ease?

Despite the softness of the sound, your boyfriend’s ear twitched, instantly catching notice of your struggle. A teasing grin crept onto his features as he paused and adjusted his stance to face you.

“Oh, miss damsel, do you need a hand?” After transferring the weight of one of the bags to his forearm, a hand was extended in your direction. What boiled the liquid in your veins, however, was the little wiggle he provided to his fingers.

“I am a damsel, who is right now very stressed. And if you keep making fun of me, I’m gonna kick you in the chest.” A low growl accompanied your words, yet instead of receiving a startled response from your boyfriend, you were met with adoration.

“You are so cute when you’re angry rhyming.” The volleyball player faked a sniffle, while artificial tears brewed on demand.

“Just go please.” Lowering your head in defeat, an elongated sigh brought your chest to rise and drop.

“Alright, alright!” After issuing a teasing salute, he returned his attention to the dimly lit pathway.

Rolling your eyes at his antics, you tightened your grip around the plastic handle and inhaled a deep breath, aiming to increase your resolve. Like hell you would be his damsel in distress.

“Are you sure the cameras are off?”

Only a single light remained on inside of the building, casting an eerie aura onto the empty hallways. Truthfully even if the cameras were functioning, it was unlikely they would register your presence considering the limited lighting. However, as the rational one in the relationship, it was your duty to inquire into whether the basics were covered by the mastermind behind the prank. Hanamaki snickered in response, knowing the sound would have earned him a flick if your hands were not occupied.

“Don’t worry your pretty little head. The broadcasting club bugged the cams for us.” The explanation held a hint of arrogance, prompting your eyelids to fall into slits.

“Don’t talk to me like we’re playing among us. I don’t care if I’m holding things. I will hit you.” Irritation weaved through your features as you readjusted the plastic straps for the sixth time. “Can we just get this over with?” The pain was bordering unbearable, and naturally as your ache increased, your mood plummeted.

“We’re here. The main hallway, miss grumpy pants.” The joy that was once circling inside the male had deflated upon hearing your impatience. Usually you found humour in his mischievous behaviour, yet today it seemed that your tolerance for him was extremely low. After removing the grocery bags snug against his wrists onto the ground, he planned on inquiring into what was on your mind. But before he could begin his interrogation, the sigh of disgust exiting your lips silenced him.

“You picked the one lit hallway for this prank? Really?” Once aligning your bag with his on the floor, you began massaging your palms to restore the blood circulation. With the weight no longer straining your muscles, a little relief was bestowed upon you.

“It was lit on purpose, y/n.” The snappiness of your comment only confirmed his belief that his presence today was merely a nuisance. He didn’t want to think it…but what if you became bored with him? Perhaps you were planning on leaving him tomorrow? Many couples break up on graduation day, could that be it? “Why are you so down today?”

Unaware of the insecurity your actions had planted in the male, you shook off his comments with a wave of your hand. “I’m not down. Let’s just do this and go home.”

There was so much he desired to say, words that hung at the tip of his tongue. Why are you acting like this? Didn’t you want to make memories with him?

Did you not love him anymore?

Instead of vocalizing his concerns, he nodded, then settled onto the ground, removing the can opener from his pocket. While he began opening each of the containers, neither one of you chose to eliminate the silence. The only sounds that echoed down the hallway was from the crunching metal that Hanamaki was tossing aside.

At first you sat beside him, your cheek resting in your palm as you stared at the opened containers lined up ahead. A piece of you knew that your behaviour was uncalled for. This was typical behaviour from him – so why the hell were you so angry?

Well, because of graduation. What would the future look like? Were you truly ready to let go of your youth? And most importantly… would he stay with you?

“Should I start pouring them out?” Guilt clouded over you, commanding that you mend the tension that developed because of your sour remarks. It was your final night as high schoolers; it should be memorable. The last thing you would want is to ruin it with an argument. Leaning forward, the tips of your fingers brushed against his cheek tenderly.

“Yeah. If you want.” Butterflies sprouted to life inside of his stomach at your touch, which he tried to playoff by pursing his lips.

“Mmkay.” As you redirected your attention to the spaghetti-o’s, a thought struck you. If tonight was the last time you would be able to act like children, then you should do it right. At first, you simply got up, spilling the contents of the container over the laminated flooring. Hanamaki observed your movements with a grin soon twitching onto his mouth. However, when you got to the seventh can, instead of adding it to the collection painting the ground, you proceeded closer to your boyfriend.

“Y/n? Baby??” A string of awkward laughter was emitted by the male. The devilish glint in your eyes screamed danger, and Hanamaki Takahiro would not go down without a fight. When you took your last step towards him, he jumped at you, swinging his arms around your knees. The action forced you to fall, though he was quick to soften the blow, sliding an arm to support your back. “You can’t trick the king of pranksters, milady. If you try to take me down, I will take you with me.”

“Amazing. We’re like Romeo and Juliet, but covered in canned pasta.” Tiny pieces of pasta were now stuck against your backside – how wonderful.

“I don’t remember how that one goes. Do they kiss?” The cheeky beam showcased indicated that he was scheming once more. Though, this time you graced him with a receptive laugh.

“No, they don’t. At least not like this.”

“Ehh, lame.” Despite the dejection implicated by his response, he remained cheerful and cunning. Sinking down to close the distance between your face and his, he paused just a few centimetres away from your lips. “Well, I guess now they do. Let’s rewrite the classics, baby.”

Your breath instantly hitched in your throat at his proclamation, as your eyelids fluttered naturally shut. The second his lips found yours, every insecurity melted away from your thoughts. Despite his comical personality, Hanamaki was a serious kisser, his strong mouth guiding yours in an allaying manner. Inside of your chest, your heart completed cartwheels, the thrill of the situation only adding to the pleasure you were currently drowning in. Your fingers subconsciously caressed the back of his neck, as you pushed yourself up, desiring to prolong the exchange for a little longer. The athlete complied contently, keeping you pressed against him.

While you both failed to acknowledge it with words – in your hearts you knew the truth, the type of love you shared wasn’t something one could simply get over. It was the type of love to last forever.

It took an hour to finish the supposed masterpiece, it would have taken less time if you two did not spend fifteen minutes making snow angels in the pasta. Nevertheless, the task was done. A new memory was created, one that you would certainly cherish for the rest of your life.

“Hey, hold on a second. You have Elsa stuck to you.” The pasta piece was one of many that clung to the male’s hair. As you plucked them out of his hair piece by piece, Hanamaki observed you, studying your movements.

“Well, what can I say? I just attract all the ladies.” A little wiggle was given to his brows, earning him a scoff. “So, did you have fun today, miss damsel? You worry too much for my liking. You need some fun in your life.” In an effort to seize your full attention, he caught your wrist, tugging you closer to him before encompassing an arm around your waist.

A low hum sounded in your throat, indicating your agreement on the subject. But you weren’t about to stop there.

“So, will you stay in my life?”

Astonishment crossed his features as he attempted to mimic the pikachu meme. “That was smooth, I’m proud.” Embarrassment flooded your skin at the compliment, his response made you regret your question immediately. But then he squished you against him and said the words you oh so desperately needed to hear.

“Come here, you little sap. Don’t worry. I was never planning on leaving.”

A/N: AAAH, I hope you like this, Jen-Jen!!!

General taglist: @haikyuufairy @chocolaterumble @lvoejimin @moonlightaangel @gyozaaaaa @byun-nies @thevillagehiddenintheinternet @graykageyama @bloody-bella @amberalisa @yourstarvic @swoonhui @rajablast @chaichai-the-weeb @dreamstormings @chibishae34 @haikyuusimp91 @thevillagehiddenintheinternet @volleybloop @melonmayhere @cuddlesslut

#hanamaki x you #hanamaki x y/n #hanamaki x reader #hanamaki fluff #hanamaki fic #hanamaki smau #haikyuu imagines #storytime with jan ❤️

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lunarnirvana · 4 years

Text

Lavender Moon

TRIGGER WARNINGS:

Please not read if these subjects upset or trigger you in any way. Heavy themes are present in my writing.

Descriptions of abduction, hospital setting, language, Vomiting, mentions of s*icide, non-consensual drug use, seizure, some descriptions involving gore, blood, injury, reader drugged, mentions of LSD and tripping, anxiety symptoms.

Prompt: Nicole’s Alphabet Angst for 8K - Occult

Summery: Reid and Reader are dating when a case involving the occult dredges up turmoil between the happy couple. The case being difficult enough, the resemblance between the Reader and the victims leaves Reid uneasy… (Full summary at bottom of writing so as not to spoil but if you’re worried about the content I’ll always add the full summary at the bottom! Stay safe)

Category: Angst with some fluff sprinkled here and there (Happy ending)

Word count: 7k

Pairing: Spencer Reid x BAU Female Reader

A/N: I hope saying this doesn’t discourage anyone from reading but this is my first imagine! I guess not that I’ve written, just posted. I’m kind of really nervous about putting this out there but why not? Also for future reference I write very intense and real things and I want this to be a safe place for everyone which is why I will try to be as thorough with my trigger warnings as humanly possible but if there is ever anything written that I did not warn you about before the writing I apologize and PLEASE let me know so I can make it a priority to include that warning in the future. Ty and tpwk <3 enjoy

“No evil ever came from a woman’s womb that wasn’t placed there first by a man.”

― Charles A. Cornell

Her intuition never betrayed her.

It was lodged deep inside her throat, the swell of hesitation like a globule that obstructed any resourceful observations about the crime scene photos. The innate feeling that the case was destined for calamity. Y/N didn’t let the gravity of her work weigh on her mental state until she was in the comfort of her confides where she could lick her psychological scars in peace.

The entire BAU regarded their unspoken directive was to bottle any reaction to the happenstances of the case with little exception. As they congregated at the round table they’d bind their biases against their eyes with the blindfolds they used to avoid looking at the bodies for too long. If you stared for too long into those gaping gashes, the blackness of the cavernous body would consume you completely. This is what they all knew to be true and so they pursued beasts with scar tissue forming over their minds and volatile hands with stoic accuracy.

This accuracy was entirely derivative of their abilities to detach from the emotional aspects of the case.

Garcia was the exception to this jurisdiction, her back turned against the horrific gore on the screen yet she described the carnage as if she were looking at it. She threw in some embellishments and innuendos for certain aspects that were too nauseating to repeat.

“We’ve got a local case today. Linda Jefferson and Kayla Burnen were the first two victims of what local PD wrote off as a suicide pact at first,” Garcia explained, “After further inspection, though, they discovered an incredibly high, nearly lethal dosage of LSD in their blood.”

Reid spoke up beside her when he noticed something in the tox-analysis results, startling Y/N slightly, “It's not synthesized in the same manner, though. There are certain proteins missing that would make this particular substance would ensure an emergence phenomenon would happen regardless of the environment.”

He let his hand fall into his lap so his girlfriend could trace figure eights in his palm with the tip of her finger in some apologetic gesture for the trivial fright as he chided. They’d been together for a year now so he understood what comforted her and what didn’t.

“So you’re saying they took bad acid? Growing up in my generation I can vouch that I never felt compelled to shoot someone under the influence,” Rossi chuckled at his own shortcomings and garnered amusement from the team.

“Actually, I believe this particular form of LSD was tampered with to cause a bad trip. You’d either have to be an idiot to make LSD this way or…” Reid drifted off, letting someone else conclude what was already obvious to him.

“You’d have to do it on purpose. You can’t mess up that bad and it not be intentional,” Emily agreed, bobbing her head back and forth while the raven locks framing her elongated facade veiled around her expression.

“A few days after those two were found,” She flipped the slide, “Beth Myers and Lola Sanchez were found in the same area with the same exact M.O. No correlations to the first two victims or to each other.”

Reid felt the way Y/N’s finger swirled against his palm and traced the creases in his skin before flipping his hand over so she could run her soft touch across his veins and phalanges. She found his hands fascinating suddenly, more fascinating than the case. When Garcia flipped to the picture of the victims he felt a sudden pressure as Y/N locked her grip around his hand. She squeezed it for reassurance as the smiling women stared at them through the screen.

“The victims had blood-let themselves, were covered in melted wax from candles, were placed in white nightgowns, and were forced to finish one another off by stabbing each other in the chests,” Garcia winced as she recited the details.

Y/H/C, the texture of their hair, and resemblance with her was the aligning factor between the four and it made Y/N’s chest wrench at the thought of being drugged with such petrifying euphoric paranoia. She could tell her boyfriend noticed her reaction but didn’t bother to meet his concerned gaze. He just stared down at her avoidance in yearning for some communication although he rarely gave her that courtesy himself. He could tell she held reservations about the case, especially when they realized the unsub was following ritualistic patterns and protocols, the occultism sprinkled through the murders like decoration.

Reid never took holding her hand for granted but in this instance he swore he heard bones cracking. Y/N was comforted by the gesture but realized she was hurting him when she felt him begin to crumble under the pain beside her. She turned to him quickly and released her vice-grip.

“Sorry, sorry,” She whispered toward him, not wanting to disturb the briefing.

“Its fine, hun, but what’s wrong?” He pressed.

She shrugged and slouched back into her chair, sinking into the seat as if it would express her silence. She told herself it was just anxiety and eventually convinced herself it was her own self doubt causing her to have such a guttural feeling. She watched the clock for the rest of her shift before gathering her personal effects from the surface of her desk, sweeping the items into her bag. Reid watched her maneuver rather quickly to get her things together. Expecting her to wait for him like always, he bent down to grab his satchel but when he arose she was halfway to the elevators, shuffling through interns and her coworkers to leave.

He followed her down to the lobby before bringing it up.

“I can tell when something’s wrong with you, love. What is it?” His hand had fallen to the small of her back as they walked out of the east entrance together.

“It just freaks me out sometimes, you know? The whole occultism thing,” Her voice was suddenly softer than he remembered.

Typically, this disquieted nature was portrayed by him but she remained unnerved the entire walk down. Something churned in her stomach and converted her into a placid arrangement of unease. Y/N despised the corruption of any establishment but this particular subject hit her square in the chest.

He smiled down to her while they approached the rugged vehicle parked on the far end of the lot. “Occult-related homicides are a statistical anomaly. They’re highly uncommon, Y/N/N, you have nothing to be afraid of.”

She nodded as she pulled the keys to her car out and passed them to him, “Can you drive?”

“Of course but only if I can pick the playlist,” He smirked, snatching the jangling keyring from where it swang on her index finger.

“No way in hell,” She giggled, “I am not listening to Bach the whole way home.”

She slipped into her seat and immediately her leg began to bounce with disarm. She tried to steady it herself as she watched Reid bend down to face her before getting in.

“I was gonna put on Brahms for your information,” His slender body folded into the front seat and he turned the key over in the ignition. Noticing her shaking leg, he reached his arm across the center console to rest on her knee as he began pulling out. It soothed under his touch and he smirked knowing exactly how to ease her even with the slightest gestures.

The base of the lamp was a wicker configuration and it flooded the room with brilliant fiery luminescence, the walls suddenly painted a pastel yellow from the warm lighting emitted from their bedside table. Along with that, illuminating the neglected contours of the room were a few white candles that burned on Y/N’s wooden bureau. Wax congregated at the foot of the tall towers of flame and spilled over the sides of the candle holder onto the wood.

The encapsulating smell of Nag Champa incense shrouded the room blending with the wafting smoke streaming from the ember-littered sage Reid’s eclectic bedmate’s hands. Y/N watched the silver scarf dance above the end of the dried bundle as it swirled around the room. Her eyes followed the smoke, eyelashes veiling her sight giving her a dark allure that Reid couldn’t keep his eyes off of.

He didn’t mind that she liked to indulge in the holistic benefits of burning herbs or the countless books she had on witchcraft and the occult. He found it charming. Although he knew when she was upset she’d do these “cleansing rituals” which really did nothing more than make their room smell like a Grateful Dead concert. She never was discomforted by the fact the unsub was utilizing occultist beliefs, she was upset at the perversion of her practice.

Of course, he was sworn to secrecy against telling the team about her hobby. She knew she’d be teased into oblivion for such an unorthodox collection of semi-precious stone, herbs, and essential oils that she claimed assisted trivial offenses. That was the aspect of her avocation Reid disagreed with.

They’d debated about it before but both were keen on their bias and so they agreed to leave the subject as an unspoken rift and move forward. Reid still found the smell of the incense suffocating especially when his migraines trickled in. She’d slip rosemary and peppermint into his tea to help his chronic condition but whenever he would catch the taste he’d beg her not to use her ‘pseudoscience’s instruction’ on him. Each time they’d get into an argument about it but eventually it’d fizzle out in sniffing apologies and fond interactions generally ensued.

“You’re really going to town on the bad juju tonight, huh?” He spoke up from behind his book. It was always strange to hear his shift in nomenclature when he left work, his vocabulary becoming relaxed and casual. He practically bathed in her relaxing aura. He would describe her the same way she describes the effects of lavender when she tried to spray some on his pillow to help him sleep.

He told her he didn’t need it as long as she was sleeping next to him and that was the first night they shared a bed. He hadn’t left her apartment since.

“I have a bad feeling about this case, Spence. I’d like to clear the negative energy from the room,” She said, waving the burning bundle of dried sage around the bed.

“The creepy ass painting you bought from the farmer’s market is still on the wall so I don’t think it’s working,” Reid laughed. She shot him a small warning glare that resulted in the two of them collapsing into hysterics.

She plopped on the bed, clutching her stomach from laughing with him as the tightening delight in her stomach began to burn. Reid was cackling, trying to make out the words, “You looked like a disgruntled care bear.” She felt relief from the laughter when his hand coiled around her waist and tucked her against his chest for safe keeping. She felt his soft lips quiet his dissipating chuckles as they pressed against her forehead.

The sage was smouldering against an abalone shell beside the bed and Reid let Y/N burn the candles throughout the night despite his heedings that it was a fire hazard. It seemed to bring serenity to her and that’s all he was concerned with.

They remained entangled like chains in a jewelry box, Reid soon enveloping her in his grasp completely. He worried that the victims looked too similar to her as he struggled to fall asleep beside her but eventually, the rhythmic movement of her breathing against him brought him enough poise to sleep.

The case dragged out across a couple of weeks stretching resources and mindsets across the vast expanse of interrogation and interviews. They sharpened the victimology down to a finite point to dig into the unsub’s plans and wrench him away from his potential choices. They were delivering the profile to the police department when Y/N noticed Reid’s hand was now tightly gripping hers instead of their usual routine.

He held their hands behind them so the crowd wouldn’t see the unprofessionalism. As each new victim was discovered resembling the woman he woke up to every morning he began feeling that same tension she’d expressed. Now, as he heard the profile, it brought an agitation to his stomach. His grip was tight and unwavering and unlike hers it didn’t shake at all. It was like he was afraid if he let her go, the unsub would be lying in wait behind them to snatch her away.

“We believe he’s a male caucasian driving a blue Ford Crown Victoria which he uses to abduct the women,” Rossi began.

“His victims are aged twenty three to twenty eight and we think he’s in the same age bracket,” Hotch continued as the soft sound of scribbling followed.

“Combining that with the fact he can synthesize LSD into a more aggressive formula suggests we’re dealing with a highly intelligent unsub with an extensive knowledge in chemistry,” Reid said monotonously despite his conflict.

“This isn’t surprising. Psychopaths often have above average intelligence. Coupled that with trauma relating to a religious mother figure who was abusive in some respect. Either his biological mother or a foster parent,” JJ nodded through her portion, her dark ocean eyes striking every gaze in motherly vivacity.

Y/N sat up, “For some reason this unsub will not engage in the killing himself. He watches the two victims kill one another under the influence of drugs and instructs them on how to mutilate one another,” she suddenly felt Reid’s hand leave hers but remained focused on the expectant faces of the precinct, “His M.O. is consistent with occult sacrifices. It's a form of homicidal voyeurism that could represent his own impotency or may be a forensic countermeasure.”

Reid lurched forward, pushing himself off of the edge of the desk and excused himself politely as he walked back toward the bathrooms. Y/N turned over her shoulder to look, her eyebrows wrought with concern but Emily’s modulated voice leashed her back into delivering the profile.

“He’s been consistently choosing his victims to coincide with the seven deadly sins. First greed where the first two victims were taken from a casino then lust. The third and fourth victims were in an online BDSM chatting room when they were lured into a threesome with the unsub where he killed them. Because of this consistency in his signature, we’ve predicted his next choice is going to be Envy,” Emily explained.

“His target location is going to be an underground swingers club. Our team and some members of the force will be undercover as security for the club. You’re looking for anyone who might complain that they’ve been roofied or look for women who seem overly intoxicated,” Morgan informed.

Y/N leaned back into the table behind her while she quickly spoke, trying desperately to rush through the profile to check on her boyfriend, “So far he’s been following the major astrological events happening in the past month. Tomorrow night is a Harvest Moon and a partial solar eclipse which fits his preference. Excuse me.”

As soon as the sentence ended she was following Reid to the bathroom. She turned behind her to see the crowd still mesmerized by the team as they briefed them and took the opportunity to slip inside unnoticed. She knew Hotch and Morgan would pester the two of them about it later but she couldn’t help it. She saw the way his face shifted to a paled green hue and how he gripped his stomach as he pushed the swinging door open.

Her suspicions were confirmed when she saw his oxfords poking out of the stall and the sound of retching echoed in the bathroom. Y/N ran beside him and rubbed circles into his back, feeling tears well at her waterline and threaten to spill over. She blinked them away quickly to not upset him any more. Guilt wracked her chest.

“Shh, shh, it’s ok,” She soothed and crouched beside him in the stall so that she could rest her head on his shoulder blade. She watched her hand slide across the woven knit of his cardigan, smoothing the fibers down and continued to try and calm him. She could feel him sobbing dryly, his back arching with each heave. Eventually he felt it was safe to lean back against the far wall of the stall and face her.

The skin around his eyes puckered with irritation, shining with the tears that slipped from the corners. He closed them tightly, wrinkling his face in an agonized expression while Y/N leaned forward. She rested her hands on his knees that were awkwardly sprawled in different directions in the small confides of the stall. She sat between them, tucked into herself so as to not take up too much room.

“Talk to me, Spencer,” she pleaded.

He actually decided to, exhausted by the weight of the bodies that piled in the morgue and his quivering stomach. “I’m worried about you being on this case. I don’t want you to get,” he gagged on the rest of the sentence and vomited into the porcelain bowl again.

“Baby, please stop worrying about it so much,” she was begging now as tears began to haphazardly fall onto his back. He sat up at the sensation and resumed his previous position.

His horse voice came forward now as he tried to swallow the mucus that lined his throat now. “Promise me you won’t leave my side until this case is over, okay? Until the unsub is in custody,” He asked her through his darkly adorned eyes.

“I promise,” She assured and it brought a relief to his nausea, “I have mouthwash and ginger gum in my bag. I’m gonna text Morgan to come bring me it—“

“I can walk, honey. If you tell Morgan he’ll call me something like barf boy for a week,” he chuckled and began to sit up. His legs wobbled beneath him slightly but he caught himself on her shoulders. She gripped his elbows tightly.

“You’re dehydrated, come here,” She lead him to the sink where he could wash up and rinse the taste of bile from his tongue.

Pulsating basslines berated Reid’s chest making him feel like he was choking on the loud music. He despised clubs like these dipped in technicolor animosity and relishing in the electronic stimulation the club reverberated. Each member was stationed at certain points of the room such as beside exits, the landings of stairwells, and an agent at each corner. Y/N was beside the bar vehemently watching each drink poured and handed out, ensuring no hands slipped tabs into the liquor.

Hotch’s instruction was patched in through their earpieces.

“Blonde hair, black button up in the west corner of the bar by you, Y/L/N,” Reid heard and immediately his gaze shot toward her.

She was alerted and her sight honed in on the suspect. He was analyzing the body language of the woman before him who held similar semblance to Y/N. He waited patiently for her to let her guard down and look away from her drink and he was charming her into doing it.

The girl threw her head back in laughter and he saw his opportunity presented before him. Y/N watched his meticulous hands slip a small white tablet into the amber liquid of the girl’s glass. It dissolved into a discreet poison, lacing her glass with LSD.

Then he looked at Y/N and she felt his taunting stare desecrate her sanctity. She didn’t express it, though, her stoicism making him come to the conclusion she was a cop. His eyes widened and he grabbed the startled hands of the two women beside him, one seemingly more intoxicated than the other.

“Suspect is on the move with two friendlies, agent in pursuit.” Y/N’s voice was patched through and Reid watched her bolt after the unsub as she unholstered her gun.

“Wait,” he said through the earpiece, “Y/N, wait!”

She proceeded despite his protest and chased the unsub out of the building where he began loading the girls into his car. They obeyed, the trip settling in for at least one of them. He held a gun to the sober one’s back but Y/N in a flurry of indecision charged at the unsub.

“FBI! Stop or I’ll shoot!” She warned.

He drew his gun toward her but she shot his shoulder clean making his gun fly out of his hand. The man cried out, one hand falling on the gushing wound but he closed the door before the sober woman could get in, trapping her counterpart inside. He staggered toward the driver side and ducked into the car as she began to aim her gun at him again, threatening another offense.

Y/N reached out and pulled the girl from the skidding tires as he sped off before she could even process that the other girl was trapped inside. Once she did she began trying to shoot his tires out but to no avail. The girl was sobbing in her arms now, her tears bleeding through Y/N’s shirt that peaked out from above her Kevlar.

“You’re safe now, it’s okay,” she assured, “You’ve been drugged you need to be taken to a hospital,” Y/N said and almost as if on cue, Morgan could be heard behind her calling for a bus.

JJ came and took the sniffling victim from Y/N’s care allowing Reid to grab her shoulders and spin her around to face him. He inspected her facade for any damage but she brushed him off.

“I’m fine, Spence, but the other girl. We have to find her,” She grabbed his arm as he grabbed hers and they interlocked their forearms to reinforce some affection.

“You need to stop chasing after suspects with no backup. You’re being reckless and I’m taking you home, Y/N/N.” His voice was stern and she didn’t bother protesting from the way he looked at her.

Reid was fuming on the car ride home, the whites of his knuckles highlighted even in the darkness as he gripped the steering wheel. Y/N was curled against the passenger side door, wrapped in his sweater that she pulled taught around her frame.

“Can we please not fight when we get home?” He asked suddenly, voice breaking through the silence of the car, “I don’t want you to argue with me to go back into the field. This entire case has been so draining I just need you to understand seeing you do stuff like that— it kills me.”

“I know, Spence. Are you getting a headache?” She noticed him wince as someone passed with their high beams blazing. He groaned at the exposure, pinching the bridge of his nose and nodded.

She decided to make him some tea when they got home. Preparing the mug in the kitchen, she seeped the jasmine leaves and reached inside the cupboard for the mason jars she had filled with various dried herbs. Making the tea kept her mind occupied from the disrupting guilt she reserved for not saving the other girl. It was a guilt that clamped her arteries and made even the simplest tasks seem harrowing.

She put a pinch of dried rosemary and a drop or two of peppermint extract, stirring it in with some sugar. The sound of the metal spoon scraping the bottom of the glass brought her attention back to her task.

Her fingers coiled around the warm ceramic mug and she walked it carefully into the living room where Reid laid on the couch with a pillow pulled over his eyes. She took the hint and dimmed the lights but as she set down his tea he could already smell the additives.

Coupled with the headache, he’d never become genuinely upset over her affinity for the occult until now. He sat up with exasperation and picked it up, sniffing the steam to confirm his suspicions.

“Y/N, seriously?” He asked and looked up to her but his own voice made a piercing impact on his head.

“Seriously what?” She repeated defensively.

“You know what. I honestly can’t believe you. Especially after the case we just had,” he shook his head, laying back down.

“So you’re not even gonna drink it?” She asked, her face falling to an annoyed deadpan although he couldn’t see it.

“Jesus. No. I’m not. Can you just leave me alone for right now?” He asked finally.

A twinge of hurt stabbed her chest at the request and she took the mug as he pulled the pillow back over his face. In the darkness, he could see her pained expression etched into his vision. The shuffling in their bedroom intrigued him as well and he began to realize what he’d said. It blurred the agonizing migraine and caused him to sit up only moments later to apologize.

As he stared at the empty room he was startled by the sudden creek of their door from behind him. Looking over his shoulder, he only caught the tail end of her jacket as she walked out. A raucous slam followed making him wince at the sound.

I really screwed up.

Reid pushed through the shroud of pain emanating from the fluorescence of the room, reaching forward for his own coat. A ripping agony followed and he doubled over, burying his face in his palms so he wasn’t staring at the light. A groan tore through the empty apartment as he tried to rub the headache away so he could chase after her.

Following Y/N proved to be farcical in his condition and he leaned against the couch in defeat, praying she’d just step outside for some fresh air.

Y/N stomped down the street with a quivering chin like a small child, sobs tearing through any muscle or fiber holding the sound in. People on the street avoided her state awkwardly, their gazes falling to the concrete when she’d pass. Humiliation was wrought in her mannerisms but she didn’t care. He told her to leave him alone over tea. She knew his migraines were the culprit but she couldn’t stay cooped up inside. There was a girl being tortured somewhere and she was sitting at home making tea with her boyfriend? There was something unfair to her about the situation.

She heard her phone trill a few times but ignored the noise, fleeing toward a local park down the street. She decidedly plopped down in the jagged blades of grass, kicking the shoes she threw on to the side so that she could feel the ground beneath her. She wanted to be as close to the ground as humanly possible to calm herself.

Every time she’d begin to soothe her cries her phone would ring bringing another wave of distraught. Through her tears, the world was a blur of velvet indigos distrusted suddenly by a dark shadow looming over her. She gasped in reaction but that’s all he gave her time to do before she felt his hand grab her head and pull her up by her jaw, his large gloved hands covering her entire face.

His fingers were sprawled apart so she could see herself being dragged away. Something bitter slipped onto her tongue and she tried to spit it out but the unsub locked her jaw shut to force the drug to work through her system. She tried to scream but with each muffled shrill he’d tighten his grip. Her teeth involuntarily grit against each other from the force and she screamed against her lips for help.

Y/N thrashed around as much as she could before she felt a pinprick in her right arm. Then the world shifted to a darker blue until her vision was gone completely.

Waking up in a wooded field sanctioned off from society’s wandering earshot, she felt the zip tie’s digging into her ankles and wrists. The skin had swelled around the bindings, causing excruciating pain whenever she’d move. She could feel her lip bleeding from being split by someone’s fists. Suddenly, a face fell before hers and began to cut the zip ties. Why was he cutting her loose?

“Good morning, sleepy head. You… you really messed my night up, you know that?” The man asked, his hand falling to her cheek.

Instead of skin she felt the smooth sensation of latex against her. The medicinal smell filled her nostrils and she closed her eyes, pretending she was in the hospital with Spencer there instead of him.

“How…” she found it harder to speak than normal, “How did I do that?”

“Clara. I had Clara picked out. She was the perfect one but you were jealous of her. You wanted me all to yourself. Envy is a sin,” his words were venomous.

He couldn’t have been much older than her, sand colored locks that fell in soft tufts around his face. He looked like a renaissance painting with a wicked possession, his blue eyes complimented by the crimson of his bloodshot waterline. When he smirked at her his face shifted from an archangel to that of a demon, waiting to consume her whole.

Then, she noticed the shifting movement beside her. The other victim was tied up beside her and groaned as she awoke. In the darkness even, Y/N could see the girl’s pupils were dilated. She suddenly began screaming and thrashing around violently, kicking at the open air as if there were a second offender in front of her.

“Hey, hey! It’s okay, there’s nothing there!” Y/N tried but the girl couldn’t hear her, only the muffled calls of her hallucinations.

“Darcy, I need you to shut the fuck up sweetie,” the unsub grimaced.

She quieted down almost immediately but still shook in fear at whatever she was seeing before her.

Y/N turned back to the man in front of her, “Let her go. You don’t want her, you want me.”

“On the contrary, I want both of you,” he seemed coherent enough but was still clearly suffering a psychotic break. Psychopaths usually hid those breaks well.

“Why?” Y/N’s gaze suddenly shot straight through his, “You’re afraid if you touch us you’ll be infected with our sin?”

She made a move to spit in his face and he jumped back, yelling and wiping his face harshly with his sleeve. “You filthy bitch! My father will love you,” a smile etched across his face.

“Your father? Where’s your father?” She looked around for a partner but no one could be seen.

“The destroyer of souls of men. He bears the torch, the herald of dawn,” He spoke in his cryptic tongue but Y/N remembered Reid reciting certain portions of the Bible and poetry regarding Lucifer.

“Your father is the devil, right? Lucifer?” She asked.

He suddenly slapped her, the latex making the blow sting that much worse. Blood trickled from her teeth down her hanging lip but she sat back up despite the pain.

“My mom used to bathe me in bleach. She cleansed me of my sins. She’d scrub the chemicals into my back and say ‘Your daddy’s the devil.’” He seemed to find some inner turmoil with his logic but continued to quote his mother in a southern accent, “‘Your daddy is satan and you were born into this world as an abomination.’”

The M.O. and signature began to align with his claims, a severe case of germaphobia which rendered him unable to carry out the murders himself. He lets his victims do it for him.

As he spoke she watched his face begin to shift and swirl into a much eviler expression. His lips coiled into a smile, his eyes narrowing into black slits and his nose sunk into his skull. He began taking the form of a horrifying wraith, horns practically splintering out of his forehead. The trees began to sway and dance despite the lack of wind and the stars in the sky melted into glowing stalagmites that threatened her toward the ground.

Everything began to distort and she felt herself descend into horror. The acid was taking effect and as the girl’s blood curdling shrieks erupted beside her she began to put her head between her knees and sob. He rubbed her hair, sighing.

“Even the warriors must crumble. You’ll bow to my god,” he stood and suddenly tangled a fistful of hair into his hands, yanking her up along with Darcy.

Shrieking as the pain visualized before her in petrifying hallucinations she was positioned before the screaming girl. The unsub instructed Darcy to take the dagger from his hand and stab Y/N. She refused, shaking her head.

“It’s ok,” Y/N assured even as the trip progressed, “It’s ok. Just do what he says, I promise it’s ok.”

Darcy bawled as she hesitantly took the dagger. She walked toward Y/N and slowly drove the knife right beside her hip bone. She groaned, her hand falling forward onto Darcy’s shoulder. “Fuck,” she moaned as the squelching sound echoed through her head.

She keeled over the agony, wrapping her arms around herself. It was harrowing to have to pressurize a wound on oneself she found. Even the slightest touch against her cut felt like she was being stabbed repeatedly. She felt the cool tip of the Unsub’s gun push her up by her shoulder. That was when she realized only one of his hands were in use. The other one was still inflicted with the gunshot she fired. If she weren’t so high she would have used that to her advantage.

With the pain came even more disillusionment. She looked down at her palms and suddenly a bloodied dagger was grasped in them. “No, no, no,” she whispered.

Darcy pleaded for Y/N not to stab her and the agent had no intention of carrying out the Unsub’s fantasy.

“Kill me yourself you coward,” she spat, “I’m not hurting her.”

“I didn’t think you’d be persuaded that easily,” suddenly a gunshot cracked through the soundscape. It rang in Y/N’s ears causing her to buckle over in pain. Nothing seemed real. Her chest felt like it would tear open at any second, freeing her palpitating heart from it’s confides.

She watched the girl’s body fall limply before her and screamed out, racing to her side. The more she looked at the corpse the worse the gore progressed. Eventually, she was staring at a demon.

“FBI! Kye Alderwood, put your hands up!” Reid’s booming voice came from across the field. When she turned to look at him, though, he wasn’t himself.

He was taller, probably eight feet tall, and his body was stretched and elongated into a bony configuration. His face twisted and melted into a horrifying facade and he charged at her. His hands were giant daggers waiting to rip into her. She didn’t see the unsub aim his gun toward her but heard another shot fired. Suddenly, another demonic corpse laid beside her.

She couldn’t fathom grabbing the gun from the unsub’s vapid hands but there she was snatching the glock from the grass it was enveloped in. She didn’t comprehend that her boyfriend was in front of her. What she was seeing was a nightmare unfolding before her. The delusions were real. It was all real.

Reid stumbled back when he saw the gun pointed at him. He thought it was a mistake but when he saw her eyes he knew she wasn’t seeing him. Her paranoia was evident as she hyperventilated and her entire frame trembled, barely able to stand. Swaying back and forth and she wept he felt himself grow sick at the sight.

“Y/N! Put the gun down, honey, it’s just me,” he pleaded.

A sob broke through her voice, “Get away from me!”

“It’s Spencer, baby,” Now he was crying, terrified she’d pull the trigger. In any other circumstance this situation would have diffused by now but the LSD in her system turned her completely hysterical.

“Leave me alone!” The words being reflected back to him just wretched his heart further.

He wasn’t even pointing his own weapon at her anymore. He stopped pointing it at her the second he recognized her. Now it was pointed askew, the barrel facing the grass beside him. Neither of them could have aimed a gun at one another in the right mindset where she didn’t reside for the time being.

Seemingly, her psychosis seemed to penetrate any affection they shared. Beads of sweat formed on her skin as she held the gun steadily toward his frame. He knew if she shot him it’d be a kill shot. She had the best aim on the team.

“Please, baby, I love you so much. Just put the gun down I won’t hurt you,” Reid persisted through it as he heard reinforcements file in behind him. He spun around, waving Morgan, Hotch, and Emily away.

“Don’t come any closer! She’s drugged, she can’t help it and I swear to God if you shoot her I’ll resign!” He warned the other agents who heeded his warning despite the alarming display before them. They still kept their guns aimed at their teammate in allegiance to the judicial implications.

Y/N’s trip began to peak, the world around her becoming unrecognizable in the heap of apparitions that surrounded her. She screamed as misshapen, flesh colored bats charged down at her, flying toward her and swatted them away.

Reid watched her pushing and swatting away imaginary attackers and took the opportunity to run toward her. She screamed and thrashed around in his arms, clawing his skin and kicking at his legs behind her.

Everything looked like bloody flesh. Every blade of grass felt like rusty nails driven through her feet. She felt like she was coiled in the death grip of an anaconda.

“Stop! Stop! You’re gonna hurt yourself!” He tightened his grip on her and used one leg to pin both of hers against his other one. She was completely entangled in him again and the familiarity of his cologne instantly calmed her, he thought. As fell completely limp, relief deluged his psyche only to be matched with her sudden convulsions.

She slipped into a violent seizure, shaking and jarring her body as he lowered her onto the ground and to her side. Hotch and Emily fell beside him and he watched blood seep from her nose and mix with the medley of blood on her lips. He was whimpering as he tried to relax her muscles and barking orders to the others surrounding him. Eventually, her shaking form was taken by the EMTS who were already on the scene. He stood in the wake of the scene, bodies strewn about him wondering what she saw him as that terrified her so.

She was treated for an overdose in the hospital and as Reid entered her room he saw her small figure curled up on the hospital bed. He felt his heart shatter for the hundredth time that night as he floated toward her like a ghost. Placing his hand on her arm, she jumped suddenly startling him as well. He didn’t expect her to be awake so soon. if

“Jesus,” he breathed out, clutching his chest.

She flipped over to face him and couldn’t help but smile at his reaction. “Dork,” she said hoarsely. The way her inflection cracked made him frown in response.

“I don’t even,” he struggled to find the right words, “I’m so sorry.”

“You’re sorry? I tried to kill you, Spencer,” she began to recollect the happenstances, “I could have killed you. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I know it’s going to be hard for us to get back to normal.”

“You had ten times a normal recreational dose of LSD in your system. That wasn’t you,” he assured.

She nodded softly and scooted back, patting the vacant place beside her on the hospital bed.

“I can’t. I don’t want to hurt you,” as the sentence stumbled out of his mouth he couldn’t help but start crying again.

He was surprised he didn’t bawl himself into dehydration on the way to the hospital. She reached up and grabbed his wrist, leading him down to her where he crawled beside her.

Cupping his face in her hands she felt the sticky coagulation of tears that caked his face. Pulling him toward her, their lips locked and worked against one another before completely enveloping one another in devotion.

Pulling away she caught his glassy irises with hers, “You could never hurt me. Not really,” she replied.

“But I did. I told you to leave me alone and you left and had to go through…” he decided not to bring up the trauma.

She couldn’t remember the trip itself, only what she did during it. He didn’t want to bring it up and trigger an acid flashback.

“I left because I was hurt, yeah, but you didn’t hurt me. I felt so guilty about leaving Clara with the unsub that I thought making you that tea would help me feel better. We should have just stayed in the field, maybe we could have caught him before he killed anyone,” she sighed.

Reid nodded and kissed the tip of her nose, then her forehead, then peppered the rest of her face with the same affection.

She ran her fingers over the skin on his arm and felt raised scar tissue in her wake. Looking down, bruises and scars were freckles across the pale vastness of his arm. She choked back, her hand falling to her lips.

“Did I do this to you?” She asked, her eyes glued to the cuts now.

He craved for her relief so he shook his head. “I don’t remember where I got them but it wasn’t because of you,” He lied. Realistically, she’d clawed and cut his arms until she began seizing. The cocktail of drugs in her system left him a stranger to her while she was high.

She nodded, “I’m so sorry, baby.”

“There’s no way we could have known. I need you to not blame yourself for this because if you do I won’t be able to live with myself. This wasn’t anyone’s fault,” he snaked his arms around her waist carefully, avoiding her bandages.

“I know, I know,” she sighed and nestled into the crook of his neck, “I promise I won’t make you anymore occultist migraine tea.”

He pulled his chin from resting at the top of her head to look at her. He suddenly cupped her cheeks now and made sure she understood.

“Please, never stop making me migraine tea again,” he said before pulling her into a kiss again.

FULL SUMMARY:

Reid and Reader are dating when a case involving the occult dredges up turmoil between the happy couple. The case being difficult enough, the resemblance between the Reader and the victims leaves Reid uneasy. After Reader disrupts the Unsub’s routine she becomes a target. After Reid fights with the Reader because of a migraine, she is taken hostage by unsub and is drugged with LSD and nearly shoots Spencer while tripping.

#spencer reid angst #reid angst #cm fan fic #cms #cm fan fiction #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer fan fic #spencer reid #trigger warning #reid fanfic #reid fanfiction #spencer reid x reader #reid x reader #reid imagine #spencer reid imagine #nicolesalphabetangstfor8k

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aaand-you-float-really-good · 4 years

Text

just doing my duty as the captain of the s.s jessek. with this entirely platonic piece of fanfiction..

It’s also on AO3. Have fun!

“E- Thain! So good to see you again! I missed you!”

Oh no.

Essek quickly swallowed his mouthful of wine, and feigned surprise at Jester’s approach, as if he hadn’t kept his eye on the Nein the entire evening.

Surely she hadn’t seen through his disguise?

No, a quick look at his hands confirmed that the illusion was still active, and while maybe he hadn’t been the most convincing back at the docks, she would have no reason to suspect Essek of all people. Surely.

No, this was just Jester being Jester and befriending anything and anyone that didn’t get away quickly enough.

Which meant that it now was time for Essek to be Dezran Thain, who didn’t have too big of a stake in current goings on, and who didn’t have a reason to be hyper aware of this random group of adventurers.

“Hm? Ah, yes… uhm… from the Mighty Nein, yes? But we only met a couple hours ago?”

“Oh, yeah, I guess. But a couple hours is enough to miss someone, don’tcha think?”

“I suppose…” Maybe if he gave short enough answers she would go away?

Oh, who was he kidding?

She pulled up a chair and sat down with their knees almost touching. “You know who I wish was here though?”

He would be here for a while. “Hm?” But short answers still saved him from having to come up with lies.

She leaned in, with her elbows on her knees and her head in her hands. “Our friend Essek!”

That. Was a truly unfortunate turn of events.

But at least it meant she didn’t suspect him.

“I… don’t think I’m familiar?”

Why did it have to be Jester of all people? Why did he have to feel this need to be gentle with her? He could have just been callous. He could have said that he didn’t care, and left.

But no.

It had to be Jester.

“He’s great! He’s, like, a really powerful wizard! And I think he’s, like, a spymaster or something? I don’t know, actually. He’s never explained that. I guess I’ll have to ask him the next time I see him. What do you think a shadowhand does?”

“Uhm… Well…” Actually that one was hard to explain, so it didn’t take too much acting talent to flounder over the answer.

“He’s really cool though!” Jester went on. “He floats everywhere! And he’s super nice, too! He’s been helping us teleport around, even though Fjord’s been a bit of an asshole that one time, but Essek still helped us out, because he’s cool like that and I think he loves us? He’s been teaching Caleb some magic too, so Caleb’s been doing all kinds of cool magic recently!”

“Caleb?”

Wait, why did he ask that? He should leave now, not elongate the conversation by asking questions.

“Yeah! He’s over there!” She pointed off to the side of the room, before giving a wave in the same direction. “Hi, Caleb!”

“Hallo!”

Essek glanced over to where Caleb had been standing for the last twenty minutes - because of course Essek had been keeping tabs - and saw the zemnian wizard give a quick little wave back in their direction.

Right, back in character, he’d never talked to the man before. “Ah.”

“Ooh, I wonder if he could teach Caleb how to teleport as well, then we wouldn’t have to ask Essek for favors all the time!”

Why hadn’t Essek thought of that? He’d have to keep that one in mind, in the event that it would come up again.

“Although, honestly, for the longest time that was the only reason why we were hanging out with Essek at all, and I do like sending him messages all the time! I don’t think he liked us or my messages very much at the beginning, but that’s okay, because I know that he likes us so much now!”

She wasn’t wrong, and that was part of why this was so hard. He hadn’t cared much for anyone, but especially not for the people who went and undid all his hard work . But he had warmed up to them, and now he did like them… so much.

He almost wished they hadn’t gotten involved, so they wouldn’t be in harm’s way now. Except for that very big and very selfish part of his heart that was so glad that he now had them in his life and wouldn’t give them up for the world.

Of course, he couldn’t tell her any of that.

“Ah, yes, that…”

“And we love him a lot, too, of course!”

Oh.

That had been both unexpected and painful.

He bit the inside of his cheek to keep tears from welling up.

They couldn’t know. There was absolutely no way he was ever going to let them know what he had done. Because if they knew then there would be absolutely no way they would still… love him.

“He’s always been so nice to us! He got us a house, you know! Well, his family did, but he was the one who showed it to us, so we kinda just associate that with him. But he’s really lovely though, and we love him so much!”

Essek couldn’t even think of a mumbled answer, because he was busy choking down his emotions, so he took a sip of wine, to hide his lack of a reaction.

“He’s hot, too,” Jester added as an afterthought.

Essek almost choked on the wine.

“Lord Thain! Are you okay?!”

“Yes, yes, I’m fine.” He coughed a bit more until he stopped being in immediate danger of drowning.

He needed to get out of this situation. And quick.

But how?

“Ah… this… friend of yours? He sounds like… a good person?”

Well, that wasn’t the way.

“Weeell… Yes and no…” She leaned in conspiratorially and quietly whispered in his ear. “Actually we recently discovered that he is a traitor!”

Oh.

“Oh.”

Oh no.

“Yes!” She glanced over her shoulders and continued even more quietly, “He traded away some sacred artifacts.”

Oh shit.

“Oh my! How- how have you come across this information? Have you- uhm- have you informed the appropriate authorities?”

She leaned back and smiled at him, and that was a weird thing to do, right? “We’re not gonna rat out our friend! What do you take us for?!”

Did she- Oh fuck, she knew. Why else would she be telling a random stranger who just so happened to be Essek in disguise? This entire conversation made no sense if she didn’t know-

No, no. He had to assume she didn’t know. And if she had a hunch, then he had to do his damnedest to make sure he didn’t confirm it.

“And you’re telling me? Why?” It wasn’t possible that they knew. Right? He was the shadowhand, for fuck’s sake! Not getting caught was his entire shtick!

Jester winked at him playfully. “How do you think we found out?”

“Ah.” So they did know.

Unless they weren’t entirely sure and she was fishing for a reaction.

“I- And what does that mean exactly?”

Why was it so hard to lie to this little tiefling? If it had been anyone else, he would have been fine-

And, well… Okay, no, that was a lie. Caduceus was too perceptive for his own good, Caleb had spent enough time with him to recognize his tells, Beau… was Beau, and the rest of them… He considered them his friends, and as he had only recently learned, it didn’t feel good to lie to friends.

“Frumpkin was on the boat, watching, when you talked to Ludinus, and Caduceus did some magic to Beau that lets her see through illusions. Did you know that that guy over there is actually a dragonborn!?”

“I- can’t say I did. Uhm…” She hadn’t said it outright. There was still room for doubt. She could still be lying.

He needed to get out before he gave himself away. “I need to-”

“Essek,” she whispered, and took one of his hands in hers. “We know. We need to talk about this. We’re not trying to get you into trouble or anything! We want to help! Well… we probably want to help. Kinda depends on how evil your motives were, I guess. Although we did some pretty messed up stuff as well…” She trailed off, looking off into space with a furrowed brow.

“If…” There was no hiding it, was there? And if they were his friends… She said they wouldn’t sell him out. He trusted them. He needed to trust them. “If you knew then why did you say all of that?”

“I needed you to know that you’re still our friend, and that we still love you, and that we’re gonna help you with this! Unless if your goal is to destroy the world or unleash the Chained Oblivion or something like that. In that case we’d have to stop you, probably.”

She took another moment to screw up her face and think. “Also I was hoping that you’d reveal yourself. Because, you know, I was saying how great you are and how much we love you - which is all true by the way! I need you to know that! - and then you’d be all, like, overcome with guilt and also appreciation for your friends, so you’d cave in and just tell us what you did, and ask us for help, because we’re such cool friends!”

She stopped again, and pouted. “That didn’t happen, of course, but it could have! And it’s definitely better than Nott’s- I mean, Veth’s plan of just poisoning you!”

That sounded concerning. Maybe he should have a talk with Nott, or, apparently Veth now. Or better yet, maybe he should stay as far away from her as possible. Both options seemed reasonable right now.

“I- yes, I do appreciate that you didn’t go with that plan. But I- You want to help me? With this?”

“Yes!”

“You’re aware of what I did, yes?”

Jester looked at him with open and honest eyes. “You stole two beacons and started the war.”

Well, if you put it like that…

“And you’re okay with that?”

She shot him a subdued smile and squeezed the hand that she was still holding.“What you’ve done is in the past, and can’t be changed now, right? All we can do now is try to make it better! And handing you over to the Dynasty for punishment isn’t going to actually stop the war or bring back the people that died in it! Don’t get me wrong, there'll probably be consequences, and I don’t think all of the others still trust you right now. But we will help you fix this!”

“That- yes.” He bowed his head. “Thank you.”

Jester took that opportunity to scoot closer and press her lips to his forehead. “You’re part of this family now. Welcome to the Mighty Nein.”

#critical role #essek thelyss #jester lavorre #jessek #i will populate that entire tag by myself if i must #cr spoilers #i don't usually go out of my way to tag spoilers but in this case it's appropriate yes?#og #my fanfic

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headfullofstories · 3 years

Text

Truly Monstrous Luck - part 5

I stand outside of the 6 story red brick apartment complex where Justin lives. Yvonne brought me to the bank earlier to get a new debit card so I could take the subway by myself, but I ended up asking her to come with, anyways. I didn’t want to be around all those people alone yet; I’m worried that the voices from yesterday will come back again.

“You gonna be okay?” Yvonne asks, resting her hand on my shoulder. “You don’t need to tell him anything you don’t want to.”

I nod, and hold onto her arm for a moment. “I’ll be okay. Don’t worry about me.”

She glares at me, a playful glint in her eye. “I will worry as much as I want,” she ruffles my hair a little and softens her expression, “and you are absolutely someone worth worrying over.”

I nod grudgingly, and take a few deep breaths before letting go of her arm and starting towards the door. “I’ll try not to take long.”

“That’s fine baby, take all the time you need.” She responds, “I don’t have anywhere I need to be, I have a friend covering my sector of the city today.”

“Are you sure?” I stop in front of the door now, “I don’t want to leave you waiting out here.”

“I’ll be fine, Victor,” she insists, “this trip is about you. Now go talk to your brother!”

“O-okay.” I agree, reluctantly, and turn to head inside.

The stairwell is a little creepy as I head up to Justin’s apartment on the 3rd floor, the light on the second floor landing is out and there aren’t any windows, so it’s darker than normal. I grip the straps of my backpack tightly as I ascend, keeping my head down as I count the stairs between landings - 8 per flight, 2 flights per floor, for 2 full floors. I make sure I step on all 32, taking 3 steps on the landings. I settle into the familiarity of the numbers by the time I reach Justin’s floor, turning to the left as soon as I leave the stairwell and pulling out the key to his apartment. I knock on the door as I turn the key in the lock and push my way in.

Justin has a studio apartment, the same place he’s been living for 4 years now. I used to live here, but I moved out last year since living with others has never worked great for me, and it was a really good year while it lasted, but of fucking course something had to fuck it up, and now my former landlord thinks I take hardcore drugs because she didn’t bother to read the label on the vial.

When I walk in, Justin is on his bed typing something on his laptop. As I close the door behind me, he slams his laptop shut, slides it onto his mattress, and runs over to hug me. He’s taller than me by a couple inches - he can rest his head comfortably on top of mine if he’s standing up straight. He wraps me in an overly tight hug, which I reciprocate after a moment of stunned stillness.

“Oh my god, Vic, are you okay? What happened yesterday?” He asks, voice full of anxiety, and he pulls away to look me up and down. “How did you get even paler? Did you catch a cold in the rain yesterday? Where did you stay? Please don’t say you slept on the streets. Why didn’t you come over here?”

“I’m sorry for not coming over.” I mumble, “a, um, a pickpocket took my wallet, so didn’t have any money or a bus card to get over here…”

He looks at me for a moment after I start speaking, and something seems to click after I finish my statement, and he gasps a little. “Oh shit, was that too many questions at once?” I give a small shrug in response. “Fuck, I’m sorry Vic, i just… I got really worried about you last night.”

“Yeah, I know, I’m sorry J.” I mutter, “I would’ve come over here, but…” fuck, I’m actually telling him. Why am I telling him? I don’t have anything prepared, I don’t know how to explain what the actual fuck even happened. Hey bro, I got bit by a vampire on 1st avenue? He’s never gonna believe me.

I take a deep breath and silently hope he’ll believe anything I’m saying. “When I was walking over here yesterday… I got attacked.”

“Attacked?!” He screeches, voice cracking. “Are you okay? Did you get hurt?”

I hesitate for a moment, avoiding eye contact as much as I can. “I’m… I’m mostly fine, but… fuck, I’m gonna sound so fucking crazy.”

He shakes his head a little, “Whatever, maybe I will, but… tell me anyways.”

I look straight into his eyes now, give a little nod, and steel myself as I continue my explanation. “The person who attacked me… he was a vampire. Like, a real, blood-sucking vampire. He was stalking me for a couple blocks, and… he pulled me down an alley and… bit me.” I tug at the collar of my shirt and show him the small mark on my neck.

He looks at me, utterly stunned. “A… vampire bit you. Yesterday, in the middle of New York City.”

“I told you I sound fucking insane.” I grumble. “But I swear I’m not lying. I have the fucking fangs to prove it!” I open my mouth to show him my elongated canines and almost start crying.

The color drains from his face. “Holy. Fucking. Shit.” He whispers, and pulls me back in for an even tighter hug. “I’m so sorry, Vic. I… I’m your older brother, I should be able to keep you safe… god, I’ve never been able to keep you safe…”

“It’s not your fault, J.” I insist, “Bad things happen and sometimes no one can stop them from happening. I had shitty luck, I was in the wrong place at the wrong time, but… hey, at least I half died in the coolest way possible.”

He laughs a little at that. I like it when I can get him to laugh; it doesn’t happen very often, especially not recently, but it makes me feel amazing when I can manage it. It makes me feel like maybe I’m not as much of a burden as I tell myself I am.

“You… you’re gonna be okay though, right, Vic?” He asks cautiously as he pulls me back and looks me in the eyes, “have you had any… I don’t know, urges? If you killed someone, I’ll help you hide the body. I promise, whatever you need.”

I shake my head. “I’m fine. I had really bad urges right after, but… this really nice lady found me before I woke up, and gave me some… cow’s blood. She brought me to a… facility… that helps people like me.”

He lets out a sigh of relief before he responds. “Oh, thank god. Do you feel safe there? Are the people nice?”

“Yeah, the people are all super nice.” I confirm. “The lady who found me especially, and this vampire dude.”

“Is that where you stayed last night?”

“Yeah. They have a bunch of studio apartments where people live, and I have a room there right now.”

“That’s good, that’s good…” He mutters, and I can see the gears turning in his brain as he thinks of things to ask. “Be… be careful, okay? Try not to kill anyone; I’ll help you hide a body, but I’d really rather that didn’t come up.”

I chuckle a little at that. “Yeah, I’ll do my best.”

He pulls me back in for another hug, and just holds me for a little while.

“Do you need to leave soon?” He asks after a few minutes.

“Yeah,” I mutter, “the lady who found me came with me, I didn’t want to take the subway alone yet.”

He squeezes me tighter, and pulls back a little to knock our foreheads together. “Be safe; I can’t imagine vampires are terribly popular.”

I nod, and slowly back away from his touch. “I’ll call you when I get back, okay?”

He nods. “Love you, Vic.”

I give one last nod, and turn to leave. “Love you, J.”

As soon as I close the door behind me, tears start streaming down my face. That went so much better than I thought, but it took a lot out of me. Fuck, he actually believed me! That alone would be enough to make me start crying tears of pure euphoria, but combined with the emotional stress the tears come all that more easily. I stand there for a moment, do my best to stop crying, and head back down the stairs.

Yvonne is sitting on the front steps when I walk out, and as soon as I open the door she jumps to her feet and spins around to look at me. I just walk right up to her and give her a hug.

"You good, baby?" She asks cautiously; I nod and hold onto her tighter.

“I told him what happened,” I mutter, “and he believed me.”

“That’s good!” She exclaims, “Did he take it well?”

“I… I think so.”

“That’s really great, Victor.” She restates. “Do you want to head out?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay, let’s go.”

The sun is out today. It’s noon right now, and the subways are busy, mostly with big groups of high school kids. The city is so alive, and for the first time since I moved here, I feel a little out of place. The car we’re in is packed full of teens heading into Manhattan, and surprisingly they don’t take any notice of us.

“Hey, Yvonne?” I ask her after a few minutes, “I really don’t want to seem rude, but… why…"

"Why aren't people looking at me?” She finishes, and I nod a little.

“I’m really sorry if that’s rude.” I mumble, barely audible.

She smiles a little. “That’s fine, Victor, it’s good you asked me instead of accidentally offending a stranger. I have a minor glamour on, so I look a little more human to normal people.”

My eyes go wide at that. “Magic? Can I see? Please?”

She snorts at that. “You’re very easily excitable, huh?”

I nod vigorously. “Can I see it? I wanna see how you look to all of these people!”

She gives me a little nod, and her form begins to shift, like there’s a fog around her, and her features begin to change slightly. Her green skin changes to a shade of brown the color of grizzly bear fur, and her tusks disappear. Her eyes remain the same piercing silver, and her hair remains in midnight black dreads, but the ends are dyed green. My eyes go even wider with awe. She smiles a little wider as the glamour fades away once again.

“That is the coolest fucking thing I’ve seen in the past 24 hours.” I state.

“Kid, if that’s the coolest thing you’ve seen, you have a lot to learn.”

“I want to learn all of it.”

She laughs lightly at that, “Well, I guess that’s not a bad way to spend eternity.”

I smile back at her, and we sit in near silence for the rest of the ride.

#original story #spooky monsters n shit

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canid-slashclaw · 4 years

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The Outliers - A Guildwars Love Story

Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6, Chapter 7

The following week, Kaleb was assigned the task of managing the supply line. As he was busy offloading some crates, Brad and Cynthia were off the distance observing his actions from afar. Both were currently taking a short break from the grueling task of maintaining the fortifications.

"That boy seems to go non-stop. How does it do it in this heat?" Cynthia asked as she unwrapped a sandwich then split it between her and Brad.

Snatching the piece from her hand, Brad quickly wolfed down his share. "You got me. Something seems to keep him going. But whatever it is, I'm not complaining."

"He's so eager to take assignments whenever they involve going into town for supplies. Each time he comes back, he's always coming up with some new recipe for the cooks," Cynthia noted.

"Like I said. I'm not complaining. But it does seem a little odd that he enjoys going to that butcher shop so much."

"I second you on the odd part. Somehow I just can't imagine a guy like him being interested in frequenting an establishment run by a couple of charrs."

Brad flung his hands up in the air and grinned. "He's his own fellow. Even though we've known each other since we were knee-high to grasshoppers, that boy sometimes acts like he's a thousand miles away from everyone."

Hours later, after the work had been completed, Kaleb joined up with his two closest comrades in the mess hall. Shuffling between the tightly packed masses of sweaty troops, he managed to find an open bench slot just opposite of Brad and Cynthia.

"What's up?" Kaleb scooted towards the edge of his bench nearly pushing a much smaller soldier off his seat.

"Sorry about that."

The solder only grumbled then proceeded to eat, pretending that the incident never happened.

"Glad you could join us on this fine occasion," Cynthia commented.

"Occasion? Do tell!"

Brad chimed in. "Haven't you heard? Centaurs are pulling back. Supply lines from other routes are now open. That means we won't be needing to make trips into town all the time."

Kaleb looked up rather stunned. "Nobody ever told me about this. When did this happen?"

"Captain announced it yesterday. Starting next week, our supplies will be coming via the east road directly from Divinity's Reach," Cynthia stated.

"So I'm guessing that means we won't be needing that meat market for our supplies anymore," Kaleb said in a downtrodden voice.

"The market was used due to a wartime emergency. Now that emergency has been lifted and the Queen’s gold can be spent financing our own people. Don't try to burst with too much excitement," she quipped.

Brad looked at his friend. "You oughta be happy, bro. All this shuttling back and forth plus putting your time in on the front lines is going to catch up to you sooner or later."

"Don't worry. I'm fine. Besides, that means there is still one more supply run left for me to make before the changes take effect."

"I'll come with if you would like," Brad offered.

Kaleb shook his head. "Thanks for the offer, but no. I can do this run myself. You just see that Cyn is taken care of."

"Um, excuse me?? I'm a big girl yanno. If anyone needs taking care of it's you two losers. Oh. And congrats on making corporal, Kal... you deserved it!" Sergeant Waterstone smiled as she gave him a salute.

The newly minted corporal returned the gesture then quickly chowed down on his rations. Realizing just how bad army food tasted whenever anyone else did the cooking, Kaleb would make it a point to put in some extra KP time whenever possible. Since he no longer had to make the forty mile round trip to Triskell, he would now have more time to put towards satisfying the stomachs of his unit.

As the trio was in the process of departing from the mess hall table, one of the field operatives approached the sergeant then handed her a folded envelope. "Ma'am. Scouting reports indicate that centaur activity has increased along the roads during the past two days. Advise extra caution for all convoys that travel the south roads."

"Thanks corporal. I will relay those orders. Dismissed."

Cynthia then grabbed Kaleb by the arm then looked him in the eyes. "Hold up. I know you are scheduled for a supply run today. But due to the centaurs, I would feel better if you had an escort."

"Sarge. Having someone else would put an extra person at risk. I'll bring some extra pistols along just in case things get hairy. Don't worry. I'll be fine."

Sergeant Waterstone let out a heavy sigh. "As much as I am tempted to order you an escort, your logic does make sense. Our troops are stretched thin and having one extra person would really not make much of a difference anyway. Okay. Fine, then. Move out, but be sure to carry some extra shots and powder for good measure."

"Will do, sarge."

As Kaleb left to prepare his supply wagon for another run, Brad approached Cynthia with a questioning look on his face. "So are you just going to let him go out there by himself? There are bands of centaurs roaming those hills. If Kal happens to run into one, he's done for."

"Don't worry, corporal. He's not going to be alone."

"What do you mean?"

"Get your quiver ready and make sure your axes are sharpened for battle. You and I are going on a little reconnaissance mission."

"Spying on a friend is more like it," Brad chided.

"Not exactly. We are just going to hang back near the edge of town just to make sure he doesn't run into any unpleasant surprises. Trust me. Whatever business he has with the shop owner is his own. I just want to make sure he's safe, but I also don't want to have him watched over like a mother hen either."

The corporal nodded in agreement then gave Waterstone a swift salute before leaving.

Kaleb had loaded up the supply wagon with an extra box of powder and shot. Tucked under his jerkin were four pairs of nine-inch muzzle-loading flintlocks. He was hoping the trip would go off without a hitch, but wanted the extra firepower just in case.

***

By the time he arrived in town, the midday sun had begun to shine intensely overhead. The moisture from the lake-effect air helped him cool off a bit, but it also made him sweat even more.

When he arrived at the meat market, he reached around the back of the supply wagon and lifted up a large, ten-gallon tin container. Milk supplies were beginning to run low and having a few buffer rations was never a bad thing.

When he opened the door, the familiar steam whistle went off letting the owner know that a patron had entered. As usual, Ludrick was standing behind the meat counter busily setting out various fresh cuts of meat.

"Hi, Kaleb. What's it gonna be today?" He asked in a seemingly cheerful tone.

"Good news and bad news, sir. Good news - it's a light order. I only need some fresh milk. Bad news - supply routes are now open and the army has decided to take their supply line business elsewhere," Kaleb said with a frown as he set the empty tin container on the floor.

"Bah. That doesn't surprise me. Sooner or later the crown was going to favor a supplier that was governed by your people," Ludrick said as he finished up with the last of the meats in the display counter.

"I do hope the Queen has paid you handsomely for all the goods you supplied our troops. Even though I'm not an accountant, I still have receipts from every transaction that was made on the armys' behalf," Kaleb said as he pulled out several copied bills of sale.

"Queen Jenna was true to her word. We have been paid in full up to last week's shipment, but I expect that one will clear also within a matter of days. For what it's worth, thank you for giving us your business," the old charr veteran said with a respectful bow of his head.

"Glad to do business," Kaleb returned the bow, "anyway, where's Amalthia?"

"Funny thing you should ask... she's out back milking the cows."

"Mind if I go say hi?"

"Suit yourself. Just watch where you step. If you track anything in, you get to clean it up."

Kaleb nodded then proceeded to work his way through the hallway adjoining the door that led out to the back of the lot. When he opened the door, he noticed a large cow pen and a row of stalls just off to the side. Further out lay a field lined with a row of straw-thatched dummies. He deduced that it must be a target range of some sort.

Only charrs would have gunnery ranges in their own backyards, he thought musingly.

"Kaleb! Over here."

He heard Amalthia's pristine voice coming from just behind the furthest stall. When he saw her poke her head out from the wooden barricade, he immediately rushed forward. She was sitting on a milking stool, her hands clasped on the bovine's udders moving them in an alternating fashion. As she was performing the procedure, streams of the pearly white substance spurted down into a large metal tub that rested between her feet.

"I hope I'm not disturbing you. I just needed to pick up an extra order of ten gallons of milk."

Amalthia stood up then wiped off the excess milk from her silken fur hands. "You have a knack for being at the right place at the right time. Because, I was just in the process of gathering a batch for purifying."

"Is there anything I can do to help?" Kaleb asked.

"Have you milked a cow before?"

"Never."

"Well, there's always a first time. Go ahead, give it a shot." She got up then gestured for him to have a turn at the udders.

With trepidation, Kaleb carefully grabbed hold of the elongated appendages and tried a series of gentle squeezing motions. To his dismay, nothing came out. Undeterred, he hunched over then pointed one of the udders towards his face hoping to see if any milk would be forthcoming. But as he was massaging the teat, a long stream of pearly white liquid spat directly into his face.

Upon seeing the event, Amalthia let out a long laugh. Kaleb then turned to her as streams of raw milk ran down his face then onto his collar.

"You pathetic little mouse, that's not how you do it. Oh my. That look is just... priceless!"

When he saw Amalthia laugh, something hit him inside like a hammer. He couldn't quite explain it but the pitch of her voice and the nature of her fanged smile just made his heart skip several beats.

She grabbed one of the sanitary towels that she had brought out during the milking session then walked over to Kaleb and began to dab it across his face. With fluid strokes of her hand she wiped the offending milk off of his face.

"I gather you are too civilized for farm life," she said as she tossed him the now dirty towel.

"Uh. Like I said, I've never done this before." Kaleb used the towel to wipe up some of the residue that managed to work its way into his dark brown hair.

"That's obvious. Come sit down and I'll show you how it's done."

Amalthia gestured for him to sit on the stool and to use his feet to stabilize the milking pan. She walked to the other side of the cow then knelt down as she opened her large clawed hands.

"Grab hold of the two longest udders. Now, follow my motions."

She gently clasped hold of his hands, and then began a slow rhythmic massaging motion. The leathery pads on the palms of her furred hands felt pleasantly warm when they met the backs of Kaleb's own hands. Her warmth felt soothing, comforting even.

Within moments, jets of the pearly white liquid began spurting out. Along with the cyclic motion of the udders, he could feel Amalthia's warmth coursing through his hands. The undulating motion caused his body to tingle with pleasure. And to his chagrin, he could feel a pleasurable sensation in another part of his anatomy as well.

Oh gods. What's happening? What am I thinking?

"Kaleb. Are you alright? Or is feeling cow tits giving you the willies?"

He choked on the question for a moment.

"No. I'm fine. I think."

"Your face is red, I know. What causes that anyway? And what's that smell coming off of you?"

Kaleb immediately pulled his hands away then quickly wiped them with the towel. He took a few deep breaths then ducked his head down trying to get the blood rushing back into his brain.

"I'm done with this for now. I just... I just wanted to get some milk and be on my way that's all."

"It will take at least an hour to purify. So, in the meantime, what will you be doing then?" She asked as she stepped around to see him.

Kaleb quickly rose up from the stool while turning away from her. He didn't want to embarrass either of them by revealing what was going on inside his pants.

"Sorry. I just felt light-headed that's all. Hey! I still remember my promise. Did you want to...?"

"You have my permission..." She interjected.

"Permission? Whadda mean?"

She gave him a fangy smile while he was still turned away hoping his raging manhood would subside.

"You may call me Amalthia."

Upon hearing the news, the rage in his southern region came back with a vengeance once more.

"There you go emitting that funny odor again."

After they had gathered all the pails of un-sanitized milk and placed them in the purifying vat, Amalthia beckoned for Kaleb to come around the side entrance. Leading up to a door on the second story, was a flight of stairs.

"Would you like to come up?" She asked.

"Is that your place? Where you live?"

"No. It's a dungeon. Just remind me to kick you down the stairs once you reach the top for asking such a stupid question!" She said in her typical laconic fashion.

"I thought you didn't want me to go up there. You know - personal stuff, not business-related."

"We have over an hour to kill before the milk's even ready. In the meantime, what are we going to be doing? Trading insults and driving my sire to our last keg of mead?"

When she opened the door to her room, Kaleb was immediately blown away at all of the military equipment that was lying about. He could see suits of armor, mortar tubes and various types of weaponry that adorned nearly every square inch of space. Next to her bed was a heavy wood table with a variety of welding torches as well as other soldering tools strewn about on its surface.

"Wow. This stuff is amazing!"

He walked over and saw an emblem of a gear cog on a large spiked shield. From its design, he immediately knew what it represented.

"So you were Iron legion, right?"

"Still am and proud of it too!" Amalthia said beamingly.

"So where's your warband?"

"I no longer have one. I'm currently a gladium."

Kaleb was taught enough charr history to know what that meant. "Sorry to hear that."

"I'm not. Like I said, there are some things about me you would not want to know. Now what was it about that dessert you had promised?"

"You don't mind going out? I mean... to get a bite to eat, that is."

"Of course not! The fresh air does me good every once in awhile. Just give me a few to clean up and we'll be on our way," Amalthia said as she began removing some of her outer garments.

Kaleb saw what she was doing and started to blush profusely. When he watched her removing all of her clothing, the lump in his throat made it very hard for him to breath normally.

Amalthia removed the last pieces of her clothing then crouched on her bed covered only in her luxurious pelt. Like an overgrown feline, she began to groom herself, contorting her body in ways no ordinary human could possibly manage.

When he saw her graceful feline form managing itself, his heart pounded hard against his ribcage as the base of his jaw began to ache from the muscle tension. He could not take his eyes off her.

"Was there something you wanted? You've been staring at me since I started taking a quick bath."

"So sorry... it's just I'm not used to anyone...uhh." Kaleb immediately turned around hoping he didn't embarrass her too badly.

"Let me finish it for you - taking their clothes off? What is it with you humans and clothing anyway? It's like stripping is an invitation to screwing. For your sake, I hope that's not the impression you're getting." Amalthia said as she gracefully bounded from the bed then reached into her dresser for a fresh set of clothes.

"I'm sorry, Amalthia. I didn't want you to get that impression. It's just being around one of your kind is a new experience for me. There is so much about your people and culture that I don't understand. But I would like to know... I would like to know you more," Kaleb said with a heavy exhale.

"As I would like to know more about you and your people. Granted, it's been historically at the point of a blade, but there are things both of us could learn from each other. I know a good pastry shop and cafe located just down the road. We can go there if you like," Amalthia said as she put on a mauve crop top and thigh-hugging miniskirt.

The pastry shop lay just a couple of miles from their location. Amalthia and Kaleb walked together side-by-side as they both took in the sights and sounds of the local atmosphere. Along the way, they received the occasional odd stare from people walking by. The prospect of seeing a human and charr tagging along together was a very unusual sight indeed.

Kaleb and Amalthia sat across from each other over a wrought iron table. Soon afterward, a waitress walked over then handed each of them a menu of the daily specials.

"Hoelbrak Hohos? Brazen butter battered bunt cake smothered in legendary lava chocolate. So where's the cream filling?" Kaleb questioned as he looked over the menu.

"Are all humans as picky as you? Isn't it true that your women go into murderous rages if they don't eat sufficient amounts of chocolate?" Amalthia said while perusing through her own menu items.

"No hun. We kill if our men don't give us any during special occasions," the waitress commented.

"And here I thought your mere presence would scare off all the customers. She even called you 'hun'. See, there still is hope between our peoples," Kaleb jested.

The waitress looked at him with a dumbfounded. "Listen sweetie. This is a port town. We get all kinds. Besides, she's a regular here. So if you know what's good for ya, you had better treat her with respect."

Amalthia stuck her tongue out at Kaleb then closed her eyes in a fangy grin.

"Fine. I'll take the Durmond Priory Dumplings. Easy on the cinnamon, it gives me acid something terrible."

Kaleb folded the menu then handed it to the smarter-than-he-expected waitress.

"And for you, darlin?"

"Azuran blintzes with Krytan puree and Maguuma nuts on the side; shells on, please."

"Drinks?"

"Latte, please," said Kaleb.

Amalthia handed the waitress her menu. "Ascelonian coffee - black."

The waitress wrote their orders down then promptly darted out.

"I heard Zaitan used that stuff to make the risen. How do you drink it and still have any taste buds left?" Kaleb asked jokingly.

"When you do battle with a ninety-proof hangover, it's not the best option; it's the only option," Amalthia replied.

"I never took you for a drinker. The only ones I know who soak in suds are norns and very unhappy humans."

"I'm neither, so it doesn't count."

"So why do you drink?"

Amalthia let out a sigh. "Let's see - one of only two charr in this entire town; exiled from my warband and now a gladium; my mother; a sire who is chronically disabled and drinks too much; my mother; a talented engineer who is waiting for an Iron Legion warband to take her under their wing, but thus far, nada... oh... and did I forget to mention my mother?"

Kaleb sighed too. "I'm so sorry, Amalthia. That's gotta be hard not having any of your people around. I guess I can understand why you stay holed up in your room so much. There aren't many people here you can relate to."

"Now you understand the reason why I need coffee to counteract the strong drink. Welcome to my life."

"Is there anything I can do?"

"Sure. Grow horns and fur, act real mean so we can start our own warband and make litters of cubs in the process." Amalthia smirked.

"That stung, Amalthia. I didn't expect that to come out of your mouth."

"Well, it is what you've been thinking, right? Look, even though I don't know your peoples' courtship rituals, it didn't take much for me to figure out what was on your mind."

The waitress came back with their orders. Amalthia immediately dug into her meal while Kaleb just sat for a moment staring at his plate.

"Eat, you!"

"I'm not that hungry... now," he replied as he shoved his dish to the center of the table.

"Look. If it makes you feel better, I honestly do wish we were both the same kind. It would make life so much easier for both of us. But the fact of the matter is, we’re not. We can still be friends. And yes, I do consider you a friend as you have earned that from me. But this other thing you desire simply cannot happen."

"Cannot or should not? There is a huge difference between the two. Anyway, I suppose I'm getting ahead of myself. You are a really amazing person, for lack of a better word. I've never met anyone quite like you and I would never willingly do anything to jeopardize that."

Kaleb then extended his hand. "Friends?"

Amalthia reciprocated. "Friends!"

"Now eat your meal before you get a headache," she said with a smile.

While he was eating, Kaleb suddenly felt a sharp sting to his right forearm. As he looked over his arm, he saw a Maguuma nutshell zing across the table, landing straight into his lap. Less than a second later, another one flew by, only this time it smacked into his Adam's apple then rolled down his shirt.

"Why you fleabitten..." Kaleb said in a mockingly angry tone as he attempted to stoop over to recover some of the husks in order to return the favor.

Amalthia just laughed as she flicked more shells at him. Her aim was impeccable as each one pegged some sensitive part of his body.

"Dang, woman! You could put somebody's' eye out with those things. This means payback, you know!" Kaleb said as he attempted to return fire with the shells he had scavenged from under the table.

"Get it straight, mouse. I am charr! Cower before the ferocious fusillade of my mighty Magumma nut barrage!"

"Hey! What you're doing isn't helping. This is the kind of stuff that turns me on even more," Kaleb responded with uncontrollable laughter.

Upon those words, Amalthia immediately stopped. "Okay, okay. Treaty signed. Ceasefire in effect."

Kaleb looked at the angle of the shadows and realized that time, once again, had passed all too quickly.

"I think we had better get back. Judging by the length of the shadows, it's a little more than an hour."

"That's fine. I'll go on ahead and get your milk prepped. Don't try to kill yourself trying to match me at full gait. It'll never happen," Amalthia said just seconds before she dropped to all fours then bounded off towards the shop.

Kaleb saw her graceful gold and white form glide across the cobblestone pavement. He thought to himself how could such a savage creature be so beautiful at the same time. For the first time in his life, he knew exactly what he wanted... and more importantly whom he wanted.

Her father's shop was just around the corner as she bounded across the sidewalk. Her mind raced thoughts of the human she left standing at the cafe.

Be patient with me, Kaleb. There is so much I want to say to you. If the world cannot accept us for who and what we are then maybe we should just not accept the world with all its stupid rules.

As Amalthia headed to her father's shop, she saw two humans in Seraph battle armor standing in front of the doorway. When she stood back up to greet them, one of them took off their helmet revealing the face of a female.

"I am Sergeant Waterstone of the Thirty-first Brigade. Do you know the whereabouts of a Private Kaleb Grimwald?"

"He will be here within a matter of minutes. I went on ahead to prep the supplies for him in advance," Amalthia responded.

"Centaurs have been raiding our caravans. We've been assigned to act as his escort," Cynthia stated as she placed her helmet back on.

"Those dingleberry fly farmers? Give me five and I'll have his supplies ready... plus a whole lot more!" With the speed of a cat, she dashed through the door.

Within less than five minutes, Kaleb was sprinting towards the two soldiers. As he approached, the taller one gave him a hearty wave.

"Do you ever stop running?"

"Brad! What are you and Cynth, I mean, Sergeant Waterstone doing here? You promised that neither of you were going to be mothering over me," Kaleb said gruffly.

"Change of plans - caravans are getting hit hard by centaur raiding parties. Roaming without an escort is not an option," Sergeant Waterstone said flatly.

The door to the shop suddenly opened followed by a loud clanging noise. As she stepped out, everyone noticed that Amalthia was clad from head to toe in charr battle armor. Slung diagonally across her back was the longest rifle Kaleb had ever seen. Affixed to the advanced weapon, looked what appeared to be a sniping scope.

"Would someone mind giving me a hand with this milk container?" She said as she tilted the container on its side then rolled it towards the cart.

With Kaleb's help the container was hoisted up. Soon afterward, Amalthia herself loped up into the back of the wagon.

"I'm sorry, miss whoever you are, but we aren't allowed to transport non-combatants," Cynthia said in an irritable tone.

"Um. Better brush up on those history books some more, human. Charr are combatants by default."

"She's got a point," said Brad as he fastened his sword around his waist.

Cynthia looked at Kaleb as she pointed to Amalthia. "Are all her people this snarky?"

"She is in a class by herself. Trust me on this one," Kaleb said with a laugh.

Moments later, the shop door opened and another much larger charr stepped out.

"Amalthia. What the hell are you doing?!" Ludrick roared as he tried to steady himself on his cane.

"Just getting some possible shot practice in, sire. I've been meaning to perform a live-fire exercise using this new scope anyway."

"Don't worry about a thing, sir. I'll make sure your baby girl gets home safe and sound," Kaleb said as he opened his overcoat revealing the several pairs of pistols that he had concealed.

"You had better!" Ludrick said as he rested his massive paws upon his sturdy wooden cane.

Be safe, cub. Please come home safely, my most precious treasure.

With the tug of the reins they were off. The soldiers knew that if centaurs accosted their wagon, their only hope would be to fight their way out. Even at top speed, a pack dolyak could only manage fifteen MPH tops; centaurs, on the other hand, could manage twice that speed.

Within the span of an hour they were at the halfway juncture when they reached the crest of the road that led towards the base camp. But as the wagon lurched over the top, Kaleb noticed a large bonfire in the middle of the road.

As the dolyak got closer, the stench of burning flesh pierced their nostrils. To their horror, the bonfire was not a wood bonfire at all but a smoldering mound of corpses from a recently ambushed convoy.

Observing the gruesome scene, Cynthia told Kaleb to swing the cart around the burning mass and to not stop.

"Those poor souls," Kaleb commented as they slowly rode on by.

Within seconds, Amalthia's sensitive ears began to twitch.

"Something is coming this way. I can hear it coming from the ground."

"I can't hear a thing," said Brad who was in the process of stringing up his bow.

"Charr can hear low frequency sounds. We can't," Cynthia commented.

Kaleb looked to the side then noticed movement.

"Forget what she can hear. I see 'em over on the east ridge. Centaurs, incoming!"

Scores of the quad-footed beasts surged over the crest descending upon the hapless travelers like angry locusts. Their battle cries echoed across the plains as their hooves shook the very grown beneath them.

With lightning reflexes, Amalthia loaded then primed her sniper rifle for firing. When the first centaur came into her sights, she rested her longarm upon a bipod, held her breath then gently squeezed off a shot. Within a fraction of a second, the round found its mark then detonated inside the creature's skull causing it to explode like an over pressurized balloon.

"Nice shot!" Kaleb shouted.

"Don't thank me just yet..." Amalthia replied.

Two more high-velocity explosive rounds found their mark on the vanguard chargers. Like the one before them, their craniums also met grizzly, fragmented ends.

"Okay. Now you can thank me," the charr smirked.

The three human soldiers were amazed at the charr's impeccable marksmanship. But in spite of Amalthia downing an impressive number in such a short amount of time, there still remained at least a hundred more of the marauders to contend with.

Brad Pendragon knew his turn would be up next. As soon as the first wave came within range, he lofted several arrows into the air in rapid succession. Seconds later, three more centaurs crumpled over as their broken bodies rolled down the hill.

The gap closure was rapid. It would be only a matter of seconds before they were in range of their shortbows. Sergeant Waterstone told them to abandon the cart then ordered them to tip it over using it as a barricade.

Out of the group, the drum of milk was the first causality. Upon looking at the spilled contents, Kaleb commented. "I promise not to cry."

"Stay behind cover and try to lay down as much suppressing fire as possible. I have an idea," Cynthia said as she looked at the contents that were trickling from the narrow spout at the top of the container.

"Centaurs, fifteen meters. Kal, get ready!" Brad said as he nocced another arrow in his bow.

Kaleb unbuttoned his overcoat revealing six pairs of pistols he had tucked away.

"Spot me, bro. Cynth - get ready to catch load," Kaleb said as he cocked the hammers on all his pistols then pulled the ones from his uppermost pockets.

"Right flank, clear. Go!"

Like a crazed norn charging towards the last keg on a battlefield, Kaleb feinted to the left of the cart. Catching the closest centaur off guard, he fired point blank right between the creature's eyes. As soon as his pistol's only round had been spent he quickly tossed it to Sergeant Waterstone who promptly began repacking it with a new round of shot.

Kaleb fired off his second pistol, felling another of the six-limbed beasts. Each time he finished a shot he repeated the process with Cynthia. Like a deadly ballet dancer he whirled in amongst the clamoring herd dispatching them one by one with carefully choreographed shots to the craniums.

Amalthia was completely mesmerized by the level of agility displayed by the human. In spite of the incredibly inefficient weapons he had been given, he was able to turn them into a deadly work of art thanks, in no small part, to his teammates.

For the moment, the hoofed beasts had fallen back. Obviously in shock by the number of casualties they had incurred at the hands of such a small group.

As soon as a break in the battle occurred, Kaleb made a mad dash for the partially empty milk container.

"Kaleb! What the hell are you doing you witless human! The next round of milk will be for free. Just get back here!"

"No, Amalthia. I think I know what the sarge's plan is. It's all about the fire."

Cynthia then tossed him one of the burlap blankets that had been folded up in the overturned cart. Suddenly, she noticed the centaurs were regrouping for another assault.

Adrenalin was surging through Kaleb's muscles as he made a mad dash towards the blanket while still carrying the half empty container across his back. As soon as he grabbed the burlap item, he headed towards the smoldering wreckage then began pouring the rest of the contents onto the fire.

Almost immediately, the smoke became thick and black from the burning milk. Kaleb threw the blanket over the pyre then rapidly pulled it away using a series of choreographed movements.

"It's okay, miss charr. He's using the milk and blanket to create a smoke signal to alert our troops to our situation," Cynthia said as she saw the centaurs rapidly closing in once more.

Amalthia understood the situation as she unleashed another volley upon the advancing attackers. Brad fired off several more arrows as well.

"Swords everyone. Swords!" Cynthia shouted the command to draw melee weapons as she un-holstered her short sword.

Within moments the hoofed fiends were overrunning the group. One centaur bore down on Amalthia with a heavy hatchet but just as quickly, the beast realized its arms had been reduced to flailing bloody stumps courtesy of Kaleb's longsword.

"Amalthia. May I introduce you to my old friend, Bob. Bob - say hello to my new friend, Amalthia," Kaleb said as he waved his sword around.

"Of all the heroic, glorious names there are in Tyria and you had to call your weapon, Bob??"

"Well, everyone I know names their favorite weapon something. I heard even your people do the same. Me - I just figured I'd pick something out of thin air."

Several more centaurs fell to Kaleb's might (and Bob's sharp edge).

The melee attackers fell back, but the centaur archers advanced. Once they were within firing position, they unleashed volleys of arrows that nearly darkened the sky. Instinctively, Brad and Cynthia grabbed their shields then hunkered down to brace for the arrow storm.

As they were pinned behind the now-heavily arrowed cart, Kaleb noticed that Amalthia's lower back was not covered by any armor. The sky darkened once more and with no time to think things through, Kaleb acted on instinct and threw his body over her vulnerable region.

Just then, a flurry of warhorns sounded. As their noises trumpeted throughout the land, a crescendo of panic began to arise from the centaurs. Within a matter of seconds the remaining herd of marauders galloped in full retreat.

Brad was the first to emerge from the aftermath. He saw a land littered with broken and bloody corpses from all of the centaurs the four of them had slain. He then immediately checked to see the condition of his friends.

"Is... is everyone okay?"

Sergeant Cynthia Watersone coughed trying to clear the dust from her throat. "Fine here. How about the rest of you?"

"I'm alive. Wait..." came Amalthia's voice as she felt an eerie warm sensation running down the right side of her neck.

"Injured? Hold on... It's not me. Oh no... Kaleb??"

She craned her massive neck muscles to see Kaleb resting on her back as blood poured from his nose and mouth. With an agonizing wail of anguish, Amalthia immediately, but carefully pulled him off.

"Oh gods no. Kaleb!" Cynthia said as she helped Amalthia lay him down.

Amalthia cried out as she pulled off part of her jerkin to wipe the blood from his face. When she reached around to put her hand on his back, she could feel the shafts of at least three arrows that had gone into him.

"Oh man. This is so not good, Cynth. We gotta get him to the infirmary now. Otherwise he'll bleed out," Brad said.

"Our boys are here! Brad, you and her try to stabilize him. Use the fire over there to cauterize those wounds. I'll try and find a medic. You hang in there, Kal. Y'hear?"

"He... he didn't have to throw away his life for mine," Amalthia said as she found that she could no longer hold back the tears.

The medics soon arrived as they bound Kaleb's wounds and made sure he lost no further blood. Off in the distance, Cynthia could hear some of the other soldiers in the unit commenting as they saw Amalthia weeping over Kaleb.

"Is that thing actually crying? I didn't know charrs had feelings, especially for humans."

Furious with rage, Sergeant Cynthia Waterstone confronted the two heckling soldiers. "That 'thing' has a name. Her name is Amalthia and she was responsible for saving our lives. Kaleb risked his own to save hers, as any good soldier would have done. Can the same be said for either of you??"

She was only greeted with silence.

"I didn't think so! Get back to your posts and be thankful I don't assign you two to cannon fodder duty."

Brad walked over to Cynthia to give her some more promising news. "The doc said the wounds aren't as bad as they appear. He's got a partially collapsed lung, hence the blood in the mouth and nose, but they said that's easily fixable thanks to some of the Asuran alchemy remedies."

"That is good news. Brad - I'll take Amalthia back into town. You may come with me if you'd like."

Her friend and lover nodded then smiled as he gave her a reassuring hug.

"I'd like that very much."

Amalthia spent her time grooming her body in an attempt to clean off as much of the blood as possible. Even though her fur was clean, for the most part, her gear still was a bloody mess. At this point, she was too tired to even care about what happened with it so long as she wasn't constantly reminded of the horrors that had just transpired.

"Are you ready to go back?" Cynthia approached as she placed a hand on the charr's left shoulder in a reassuring gesture.

"I am leaving my armor. Do with it as you wish. But otherwise I'm ready whenever you are."

As they headed back to town, only this time under the protection of a heavier escort, Cynthia turned to Amalthia and asked, "I hope your father will forgive us for what happened. Try not to blame yourself for what happened to Kaleb."

Amalthia drew in a deep breath then exhaled. "I am to blame, partly. But I also blame the inferior technology your people possess. I blame the centuries of senseless bloodshed our people had wrought upon each other over issues that could have been worked out through logic. But most of all I blame the one thing that I wish to say but cannot..."

Twilight was approaching by the time they arrived at Amalthia's home. Without further words they dropped her off then waited until she had made her way to her upstairs abode.

Brad looked over and commented. "What a world we live in to see the day when a human would be willing risk his life for a charr."

"Did you see the look on her face, Brad?"

"Of course I did. I've never seen one of them up close. Well, alive that is. I finally figured out what differentiates the males from the females. It's the size of their teeth. Y'ever notice that?"

"You men are as dense as ever!" She shook her head as she prodded the dolyak forward.

"Yeah. So what is it that I'm missing?"

Without saying a word, she turned to Brad and smiled.

She’s in love with him, you idiot!

#gw2 fanfic #tyriaslibrary #the outliers #charr and human #kaleb and amalthia

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writingrei · 5 years

Text

why don’t you just dye!

(the corresponding art piece)

i have a headcanon that before ichigo went into highschool, he dyed his hair black because of how sick he was of getting targetted by everyone because of his hair color

---------

Ichigo’s breaths were heavy and elongated, his knuckles stinging from the impact of knocking out yet another idiot who wanted to fight him. Standing upright after being outstretched from his punch, he sucked on his knuckles briefly, lapping up the tiny beads of blood that started to ooze through the bruises on his hand.

“Kurosaki! Fighting on school grounds again?!” a demanding voice shouted.

Ichigo’s head snapped to look behind him, seeing a higher up from his school that was constantly on his case.

“It’s after school, give me a break!” the young man shouted, immediately sprinting off.

“Get back here!” the instructor yelled, not bothering to chase after the delinquent. It wasn’t easy to match up with Ichigo’s speed, his legs were just too long.

Ichigo stepped on one of the fallen idiots from the fight before fleeing from the scene of the crime, yanking his bag off the ground as he left. Sprinting for a good few minutes, Ichigo significantly slowed to a jog, then a limp. Fighting five people at once was bound to have amounted to at least some injuries, and he had a lot to prove for it.

He could feel his shins and knees throbbing from the kicks he got down there. His face started to swell from the punches he took to it, some blood starting to peek through lines of broken skin as the flesh around it bruised and darkened. Even his eye started to swell closed from the black eye he suffered.

It pissed him off. Not the injuries, but just the fact that those pinheads had the gall to pick a fight with him. And for what?

His stupid hair color.

Ichigo hissed his teeth.

“‘Your haaaair pisses me off,’” he mocked. “‘You’re a daaaaaamn SHOWOFF!’ Fuck did I even do…? Walking around is too much for ya?”

He stepped in a huge puddle, given from the rainfall the night before. It was a lot deeper than he expected, his shoe sucking in all the water. Cursing loudly, he kept walking but more awkwardly.

“Dammit all. ‘Your hair is too flashy.’ It’s my natural color! How many times…” he grumbled to himself.

Most of the time I'm not even doing anything. Just because I got this stupid bright orange hair from… my mom, it doesn't mean jackshit! I wish bright hair was at least a bit more normal in this country.

Turning onto a bigger street filled with people, he immediately got a bunch of weird looks. Probably more from his bruises than his hair, but it was probably a contributing factor. Usually the stares wouldn't bother him, but today it particularly did.

He wished he had a phone to text his sisters that he wouldn’t immediately be coming home, but they're just going to have to hear it from him later. Not that it mattered, he was usually always safe when coming home late, but the worry was still there.

Civilians did their best to steer clear of bumping into Ichigo as he walked in the middle of the sidewalk. He caught a glimpse of some people's faces, seeing disgust and sometimes fear written on it.

It gave an unpleasant sting to his heart.

But then he just tried to ignore it all, and the world around him as well. There was a place he was looking for, he remembered that he had to take Karin and Yuzu to it a couple of times. Luckily it wasn't too far off from his school. His eyes scaled the signs of stores, restaurants, and office buildings he passed, none of their names being the one that he was looking for.

Haifuku - Salon & Hair products.

That's the one. Taking a sharp right turn, he pushed open the glass doors of the building and stepped inside. Inside to the front were rows of hair products, and a person standing at a register off to the side. Shampoo, conditioner, the like. Ichigo scaled the shelves, coming across the section he needed. Hair dye. Bright colors were often looked down upon in Japan, usually associated with delinquency… or worse. Ichigo got ticked off a lot but he wasn’t a delinquent. He never seeked out trouble, it was always just drawn to him, and his hair was quite a beacon.

It got annoying after a while, constantly being subjected to torment by both instructors and students because Ichigo didn't have black, flat hair.

Ichigo gripped a bottle and glazed over its label. "Black" and "Hair dye" was all he focused on. Good enough.

He took it off the shelf and headed to the register, shuffling in his bag to pull out a wallet.

“Eh… how much?” Ichigo asked, looking down at the funds in his pockets, spreading his wallet folds and yen apart with his fingers as he counted before looking at the registeree.

They were silent, looking at the bruises all over Ichigo in fear, making him roll his eyes.

“C’mon, how much? I can’t have you staring at me all day,” he said, putting the bottle of hair dye on the register table.

“Um, 2400 yen,” they said, scanning the bottle.

“Yeesh, that price is kinda pulling my leg,” he complained, pulling out the needed amount and handed it to the person at the register. “And uhhh, one quick question. I’ve never dyed my hair before and—”

“You haven’t? I would’ve thought…”

“I get that a lot. My hair is natural.”

“That’s amazing…”

Ichigo cleared his throat. “Uh, anyway. I was wondering how to dye my hair. You should know, right?”

“Oh, yes. Um, basically you wash your hair first, then put the dye in. Let it sit for about an hour or so. If it doesn’t come out as dark as you want then just repeat it,” the register person said, putting the bottle of hair dye in a bag.

“Okay, thanks. Also, no bag. I have one already,” Ichigo said.

Taking the bottle out of the bag, they handed it to Ichigo who hastily shoved it into his school bag. Without any other words, he left.

——

“Karin? Yuzu? You two home?” Ichigo shouted in his home as he walked in the front door.

“I’m here!” Yuzu said from the kitchen. “Karin is upstairs.”

“Alright, good to know." He slipped off his shoes, taking off his socks with it, relieving himself of his soggy sock and shoe.

Yuzu peeked out from the kitchen to look at her brother who was heading upstairs.

“Ichigo, did you get into another fight?”

“I didn’t get into a fight, it’s more like I was attacked,” he growled.

“Do you need help cleaning your wounds?”

“Nah, I’m fine, but thanks. Oh wait, can you toss me an ice pack?”

Yuzu whimpered, pitying her brother’s injuries as she went to the freezer. She stood on her tippy toes to reach into the top shelve of the freezer to pull out a big ice pack. Closing the door with her foot, she brought her arm up behind her, she swung it forward and tossed the ice pack to her brother.

He caught it in the crook of his elbow, saying "Thanks," quickly.

Ichigo quickly headed upstairs and into his room, dropping off his stuff. Squatting down, he unzipped his bag to take out the bottle of hair dye.

“Yo, Karin. You gonna need the bathroom? Cuz I’m gonna be in there a while,” Ichigo shouted for his sister to hear, stripping from his clothes, leaving himself in a tank top and his boxers.

“No. Don’t stink up the bathroom, Ichigo!” she yelled from her room.

“‘Stink’?! I ain’t taking a dump!” he barked.

He could hear Karin snicker, and he clicked his teeth as he snagged a pair of scissors off of his desk, picked up the ice pack as well, and went into the bathroom. Placing the scissors down on the sink ledge, he stared at himself in the mirror.

“Oh yeah, ice pack, ice pack,” he hummed, holding up the ice pack onto his eye which was nearly entirely swollen shut. “Uh….”

Ichigo went into the cupboard behind the mirror to pull out a box of bandaids. Realizing he couldn’t put on bandaids with one hand, he put the icepack down to pull the bandaids out of the box. Not bothered to clean the wounds, he just peeled out a bunch of bandaids to put it on his face. They were the only wounds he really cared about, ignoring the rest on his arms. It concerned him a little, seeing how dark the bruises started to get.

He thought about whether to wet his hair using the sink or the shower. Realizing that the sink would probably be too small for his fat head, he went over to shower. He slid open the shower door and pulled off the extendable shower head with his free hand. He turned on the water, it spraying all over the walls of the shower. Leaning into the shower, he aimed the shower head at his hair, letting his hair become soaking wet. It was cold, and it made goosebumps run down his back. He stood there for a while, his hair starting to fall down from its once spiky style.

Is this a good idea…? Do I hate myself this much to dye my hair? he thought.

Before he even realized it, he was back in front of the sink, looking in the mirror with the bottle of hairdye in hand.

Now or never, I guess.

Taking a deep breath, Ichigo took the ice pack off of his eye to rest it onto the sink’s edge. He popped open the bottle of hairdye and poured a whole lot of it into his hair. He watched the black glob sink into his roots, corrupting his hair from a bright orange to a pitch black.

He watched the change happen, starting to use his fingers to mix it in. Ichigo closed his eyes, trying not to think much about what he was doing. After a bit, he opened his eyes again, seeing his hair nearly entirely black. He put in another glob in and mixed it in.

He took the scissors he left out and began to trim some of his hair, making sure that his hair wouldn’t return to its super spiky state. He watched black strands fall into the sink, slowly piling up one after another. Looking back up, his hair was nowhere smooth, but the spikes were definitely reduced. His hands hung limp in the sink as he looked at himself, hair dye dripping onto his shoulders.

It was hard to process this new look. Ichigo didn’t recognize it as him. So he just kept staring at himself, and hoped to realize it was him that he was looking at.

——

Ichigo sat in between his sisters as they all watched television, towel still sitting on his shoulders, holding up the ice pack up to his eye. Yuzu and Karin often shot glances at their brother’s new hair color, obviously put off by it.

“Okay, Ichigo. What the hell did you do to your hair?” Karin blurted out.

“I dyed it.”

“DUH, but why?!”

“Geez, Karin, is it so much of an issue to want to change up my look?” Ichigo responded, his answer feeling vaguely forced.

“Uh? Is this the same Ichifart I’ve known all my life? You were always so defensive about your hair, and how you kept it orange out of spite!” she shouted, shifting onto her knees to get closer to Ichigo’s face.

“Sometimes things change! Drop it already!” Ichigo yelled, leaning into his sister’s face, in turn making her lean back.

“Hey, calm down guys,” Yuzu said from the other side of Ichigo.

Karin and Ichigo had a staredown for a bit, before Karin clicked her teeth and sat back down, huffing and folding her arms.

“Just wait until dad has something to say about this.”

And like perfect timing, the Kurosaki father burst through their front door.

“HELLO, MY WONDERFUL CHILDREN!”

“Hey dad,” Ichigo said, not looking away from the TV.

He didn’t get a response, humming in question as he turned to look behind him. He was immediately greeted with two shoe soles to the face, sending him flying into the TV.

“Hey, don’t break it!” Karin said.

Ichigo screamed, turning it into a groan as he rubbed the back of his head, lying face down. He tried to sit up, but his dad stepped on his right arm, and grabbed his left. The once orange haired boy shrieked at the top of his lungs.

“Who are you and what kind of burglar are you to so calmly sit by my daughters?” Isshin asked.

“DAD, WHAT THE HELL?! IT’S ME, ICHIGO!”

“Oh!” he said, stepping off of him. “I almost didn’t recognize you because your hair is bl-bla- ICHIGO, YOUR HAIR IS BLACK?!”

Sitting up and winding his shoulder, Ichigo said, “Yeah? What of it?”

“WHY WOULD YOU DESECRATE THE BEAUTIFUL GENES YOUR MOTHER BESTOWED UPON YOU?!”

Ichigo’s eyebrow twitched. “It kept getting me in trouble.”

“Trouble? Like what?”

“All of my instructors hate me. Punks keep taking it as an invitation to pick a fight with me because they think I’m showing off!”

Isshin just stared down at his son, the one comedic expression on his face beginning to melt away into actual disappointment.

“You have gotten soft.”

“Huh?”

“The Ichigo I raised would’ve never— never altered how he looked because of some itty bitty targeting.”

“Hey, it’s not—.”

“Didn’t you love your hair color, Ichigo? How much it made you look like your mother?”

A weight slowly began to press on Ichigo’s lungs.

“I…”

“Listen, son. Your hair color was a gift. And I’d hope it’s something that reminds you of your mother. Because to me, it sure does. And it makes me feel relieved whenever I see it.”

Ichigo looked up at his dad, his face wrinkling into the slightest bit of regret.

“Get up, Ichigo.”

Ichigo stood up, now eye level with his father. Isshin held out his arms and embraced his son. Ichigo didn’t hug back, but he did accept what was being received. Suddenly, he was being spun around, both of his arms pulled behind his back as he got a foot pushing into his back.

“LETTING YOUR PA CATCH YOU IN A HUG?! YOU’RE SOFTER THAN I THOUGHT!”

“OW OW OW OW! LET GO OF ME!”

“Aw, dad! Give Ichigo a break! He’s already all beat up!” Yuzu said.

Isshin let Ichigo go, sending him flying onto the floor face first.

Standing over him, Isshin said with a glint in his eye, “About that hair, Ichigo. Are we letting you grow the black out or are we giving you a buzz cut?”

Ichigo shrieked, flopping onto his back and sitting up again, “For the love of everything, I’ll just grow it out! Don’t give me a buzzcut!”

#bleach #bleach fic #ichigo kurosaki

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dr-gloom · 5 years

Text

Ssserpentine

A/N: Based on this post by @princeanxious. Dimitri elongates his s’s because the accident left him with some impaired speech that he’s been working to fix. One such method of teaching the ‘s’ sound is to draw it out; unfortunately, many folks tend to normalize this technique so any SLP/SLPA worth their salt tries not to use it if they don’t have to. Virgil’s piercing

Fandom: Sanders’ Sides

Pairing: Platonic Prinxiety, familial/brotherly Moceit, possible/hinted at Anxceit, possible/hinted at Royality

Words: 2,393

Summary: After an accident leaves Dimitri physically scarred and half blind, he decides to take back his confidence and turn his blemish into a statement. And of course his family are going to fully support him.

Tags/Warnings: swearing, blindness, mentions of pain, tattooing, sympathetic deceit

Fics Masterpost

Read it on AO3

Like what I do? Buy me a Ko-Fi or GoFundMe

Dimitri sat in his car, anxiously tapping the steering wheel and staring at the sign of the tattoo parlor he’d meticulously researched for. Out of all the places close to him, this place seemed to have the best reviews and the pricing was decent (from what he could tell). They even were one of the few places who openly stated that they could tattoo over scars, which is apparently harder to do, or something. All things considered, this was like Dimitri’s Eden. His first-pick college. His safe place.

Okay, really? He was being so weird about this. Just get out of the car already, doofus.

Dimitri takes a shaky breath and opens his door, stepping out into the parking lot. He forces himself forward, approaching the tattoo parlor with determined steps. When he’s about ten feet away he suddenly stops and turns around heading back for his car.

“Nope, can’t do thisss. Absssolutely not. Thisss wasss a horrible idea.”

He grips the door handle, staring at his reflection in the window. The mottled skin that makes up about half of the left side of his face glares back at him like a neon sign. He looks at the glass eye; the green iris and reptilian pupil had drawn his interest the moment he laid eyes on it, and Patton, sweet, loving, never-judgmental Patton had told him to go for it. “It’d be so cool!” he said. So Dimitri had done it.

It was largely the inspiration for the tattoo he wanted to get.

The one he was currently stalling on by staring at his reflection in his car window.

Dimitri groans and lets go of the door handle, turning back to the building.

“Jussst do it. Come on. Jussst…. Walk in, tell them what you want, and get it over with.”

He nods to himself and starts walking towards the door. His hand’s nearly on the door handle when he chickens out, turning around. He walks with quick, rushed steps back towards his car, his face burning. He was being an idiot.

“You know, I don’t think we have extension cords long enough to give you a tattoo outside, as fun as that would be.”

Dimitri spins around at the voice, looking over the man standing a few feet away. The man is dressed in torn black skinny jeans, black boots, and an MCR tank that leaves his tattooed arms exposed. His purple dye-dipped hair is sideswept just out of his eyes, as if he brushed it aside so he could see better. Soft brown eyes look at Dimitri with an undercurrent of understanding, a playful smirk on his viper bite-pierced lips. Dimitri’s brain stutters to a stop. “Wh-what?”

The man - more than likely one of the tattoo artists - thumbs over his shoulder at the tattoo parlor. “You gonna come inside or what?”

Dimitri gives a halting nod, shifting from foot to foot. “Oh, yeah, I jussst…”

The man shrugs. “I get it dude; first time jitters. Happens to the best of us. Come on, I’ll help you out.” He starts walking towards the door and Dimitri follows, walking quickly to catch up to him. “Name’s Virgil, I’m one of the tattoo artists.”

“Dimitri.”

Virgil nods and holds open the door for Dimitri. “So what can we do for you today, Dimitri?”

“I want a tattoo.”

Virgil snrks. “Well I figured that, dude. What are you thinking of getting?”

Dimitri walks into the parlor, looking around. There are tattoo designs pinned up to the walls, focused mainly around the work stations. Two other employees are in the parlor; one at the front desk reading, and another at his workstation tattooing a customer. Dimitri glances at Virgil. “....Sssnake ssskin. On my faccce.”

Virgil hums and nods, moving to sit on his stool. “Okay, sounds cool. A few things; one, the face is pretty sensitive, so unless your scarring - I’m assuming this will go over your scar?” At Dimitri’s nod, he continues, “So unless your scarring killed those nerves, it will hurt. Two, we won’t be tatting you up today, because I need to plan this out. I figure it gives you a little time to decide if you really want this anyways, so what’s the harm. Are you thinking something like broken skin, or just scales?”

Dimitri sits on the padded chair, glancing at the designs pinned to the wall behind Virgil. “I don’t even know what broken ssskin meansss.”

Virgil grins and pulls out a binder, opening it and flipping through it. Dimitri catches the occasional glimpse of a drawing; Virgil’s personal portfolio, he’s guessing. Virgil stops and points at a page. “This is broken skin. It’s a design I did for a client a while back.” The design was of tiger print, drawn in such a way that it looked like the paper had been broken almost like an egg shell to expose the print. Dimitri studies the art piece for a moment before he shakes his head. “I think I’ll jussst go with sssnake ssscalesss.”

Virgil nods, closing the binder and putting it back where he got it from. “Sounds good. How about we exchange numbers so I can send you design plans for you to OK. Sound good?” Dimitri nods. “Good. Logan will book you an appointment a couple weeks out so we have time to get it just right. It was nice meeting you, Dimitri.” Virgil gestures to the man reading up front and sticks his fist out. Dimitri eyes the appendage with a look that just says, “Seriously?” before tapping his own fist against Virgil’s and getting up, heading up to the front desk.

Virgil sits with his feet on the cushioned chair, his sketchbook propped up on his thighs. He taps the end of his pencil against his bottom lip as he thinks, staring at the blank page before him.

“You’ve been staring at that thing for an hour. Lose the ability to draw?”

Virgil glared across the room at his coworker. “No, asshole, I’m just thinking. Something you don’t do enough of.”

The man gives an offended gasp, placing a hand to his chest. “Excusez-moi. Rude, much?”

“You started it, Ro.”

Silence for all of thirty seconds, and then, “Seriously, what’s got you so stumped?”

Virgil sighs and lets his feet fall to the floor, tossing the sketchbook onto the padded chair. “New client wants a snakeskin face.”

Roman’s lip curls in thinly-veiled disturbance. “What, like…. His whole face?”

Virgil scoffs. “No, dumbass. He has a really big scar on the left side. Wants to cover it.” Roman hums in understanding. “I’m just kind of… Strapped for ideas right now. Everything I can think of looks too… Stupid.”

Roman props his feet up against the wall. “Well, what’s the scar look like?”

Virgil digs out his phone and pulls up the conversation with Dimitri. After they’d gotten him squared away for an appointment that was now only a week away, Virgil had asked Dimitri to text him a picture of the scar as reference. Virgil tapped the photo to enlarge it, handing the phone to Roman. Roman looked at the picture for a moment, his lips quirked to the side in thought.

“I may have an idea.”

“Dude, they look like freaking… Those gems from Zelda. This sucks.”

“Well I don’t see you coming up with any better ideas!”

“Actually, yeah, I did.”

“But are they good enough?”

“.....”

“That’s what I thought.”

Virgil’s phone going off at 2 am was not how he wanted to be woken up. Especially not on a Saturday. Wasn’t this supposed to be the one day he got to sleep in? Why did the universe hate him?

“H’llo?”

“Virgil! I figured it out! Get down here now, you have to see this!”

“Can’t you just text it to me?”

Cue the offended gasp. “Text it to you? I’m offended you’d even ask!”

Virgil groans, sitting up and grabbing his boots. “I’ll be there in ten.”

“....Huh.”

Roman fidgets with his fingers, studying Virgil’s expression for any hint of disapproval. “So?”

Virgil sets the sketchbook back on the table and pulls out his phone. “Only one way to find out.”

Roman grins as Virgil snaps a photo and sends it to Dimitri.

Dimitri sat once again in his car, staring at the tattoo parlor several yards ahead of him. He tapped on the steering wheel, the tapping of his finger matching the beating of his heart. Did he really want to do this? A tattoo was more or less permanent, and this was… Well, he definitely wouldn’t be able to blend into the crowd once he went through with this.

Patton laid his hand on top of Dimitri’s, effectively stopping his twin’s tapping. “Come on, Di, it’ll be fine! You’ll look so cool, like a… What are they called… Like a Basilisk! Well…. Half of you, anyways.” He laughs lightly.

His twin’s laugh draws a small smile out of Dimitri, and he sighs. “People are going to think I’m a freak.”

“Then I’ll beat them up!”

Dimitri laughs. “You can’t even clap me on the shoulder without worrying you hurt me.”

Patton pouts and crosses his arms. “Yeah, but you’re my twin, of course I don’t wanna hurt you.”

Dimitri doesn’t respond to that, just looking through his windshield at the tattoo parlor. “Well… Don’t want to be late for my appointment.” He steels his nerves and steps out of the car, Patton’s door shutting a moment after his. Patton moves to his side and takes his hand, and even though Dimitri can’t see him he knows his twin is giving him a reassuring smile. He takes a deep breath and starts walking with Patton towards the parlor.

Dimitri grips Patton’s hand tightly as the needle moves over his skin, trying not to squeeze his eyes shut too tightly or he’d risk crinkling his skin and messing Virgil up.

“It’s okay, Di. I gotcha. You’re okay. It’s gonna look great.”

What felt like an eternity later, Virgil set his machine down and sighed. “Alright, we’re done. Let’s talk aftercare.” He turns on his stool and grabs the supplies he’d set aside at the beginning, bandaging up Dimitri’s face. “So you don’t want to take this off for a few hours. At least two, though to be safe leave it on for three or four if you can. You’ll want to have it covered overnight to prevent the sheets sticking to you or getting stained, so you might just wanna leave it on unless it’s rubbing your skin uncomfortably or falling off already. You’re gonna wanna make sure your sheets stay clean for at least the first two weeks; this means you shouldn’t do anything in bed other than sleeping, to avoid crumbs, pencil shavings, whatever. Once you take off the bandages, you need to immediately wash your skin. We typically recommend something gentle and plain like Dial soap, definitely nothing with a fragrance or those little cleansing beads.”

Patton nods, scribbling the instructions into his notepad. Dimitri’s glad not for the first time today that he brought his twin along.

Virgil’s coworker walks over, his hands in his pockets. “So how’d it go?”

Virgil shrugged. “Pretty good. Dude didn’t even cry.”

The other man swore under his breath and handed a smirking Virgil ten dollars. Virgil turns to Dimitri. “This is Roman, he helped me design your tattoo.”

“Helped? I practically did it myself!”

“It was a 50/50 effort and you know it.”

“....Still.”

Patton jumps up, grinning at Roman. “Hi, I’m Patton! Dimitri’s twin.”

Roman grins at Patton and slings an arm over his shoulder. “Well hello, my fair prince.”

Patton giggles. Virgil groans. Dimitri rolls his eyes.

Great, just what he needs. Some guy hitting on his twin.

Thomas grins as he looks over Dimitri’s face, holding his adopted son’s jaw gently to turn his head. “It looks good! It healed well. You look so cool.”

“That’s what I said!”

Dimitri rolls his eyes. “You two are alwaysss ssso posssitive. It’sss naussseating.”

“Awwww, you love us!”

“....Shut up.”

“Di Di Di Di! Look!”

Dimitri spins his chair around to face his twin, who stands in his doorway bouncing on the balls of his feet with a large grin. Dimitri raises an eyebrow. “Yesss?”

Patton runs over to his twin, showing him his bandaged wrists. “I got tattoos! They’re on my ankles too. Roman did them for me!”

Dimitri’s eyes widen and he gently grips Patton’s arms, turning them to get a look at the bandages. “You got tattoosss? Why? What of?”

Patton grins. “They’re snake scales, just like you!”

Dimitri blinks, processing what he just heard. “Pat…”

“You’re so strong, Di, and I’m so proud of you for not letting your scar define you. I love being your twin.”

Dimitri lets go of Patton’s wrists to hug his twin around his waist, pressing his face into Patton’s stomach. Patton giggles and runs his fingers through Dimitri’s wavy hair. “Love you too.”

“Out of the way, old man.” Dimitri jokes, grinning as he lightly shoves Thomas. The soft hiss he gets in reply has his grin turning into a concerned frown. “Dad?”

Thomas waves him off, grinning. “Oh, don’t worry about it Di. I’m fine!”

“Sssomehow I don’t believe you.”

Thomas frowns, then sighs. “Alright, well… I’d wanted to wait until it was healed to show you, but I guess the cat’s out of the bag.” Dimitri is about to ask what he’s talking about when Thomas pulls his shirt up, exposing a bandage taped over the left side of his chest. Dimitri’s eyes widen.

“What happened?”

“I got a tattoo! It’s those scales, like yours and Pat’s. Right over my heart, because I love my boys.”

Dimitri flushes, staring at the bandage. After a moment, he gives Thomas a mischievous grin, poking his chest. “Actually, your heart’sss about… Right here.”

Thomas frowns. “What, really? Aw, man!”

Dimitri laughs. “It’sss fine. I like it. I bet it looksss ‘cool’.”

Dimitri sighs, pressing the phone to his ear and listening to it ring before the person on the other end picks up with a tired sounding, “yo”.

“Are you and Roman coming over for movie night? Dad wantsss to know.”

He can practically hear the grin in Virgil’s voice. “Movie night with the serpent Sanders? Wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

Taglist:

@hungry-red-panda @neonb-fly @chemically-imbalanced-romance @punsterterry @dead4sevenyears @metaphoricalpluto2 @tanyatoloni1334

#sanders sides #sanders sides fanfiction #sanders sides fanfic #roman sanders #patton sanders #virgil sanders #deceit sanders #thomas sanders

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allthingsfangirl101 · 5 years

Text

The Bet Part 2–Peter Kavinsky

Part 1

Reader's POV

Throughout my college tour, I couldn't stop thinking about Peter. His smile. His eyes. His laugh. The way his lips felt on mine. How my lips tingled long after he left.

Monday morning I was a little nervous to go to school. I haven't talked to Peter since he kissed me in the jacuzzi and his mom called him from inside telling him that it was time to go.

I scanned the halls as I walked to my locker. I opened it and started getting my books when I felt someone standing behind me. I turned around expecting it to be Peter but froze when it wasn't him.

It was three of his teammates. "Hi," I said softly, looking between them.

"Y/N, we have a question for you," Ryan said.

"Okay," I elongated.

"Settle a bet for us," Charlie smirked.

"What bet?" I stuttered.

"Did Peter kiss you this weekend?" Tommy's question made my stomach drop.

"What?" I asked, my voice barely coming out. "What are you talking about?"

"He didn't tell you?" Charlie laughed.

"We bet Peter that he couldn't get you to kiss him." Tommy laughed. "So, did he?"

"He," I stuttered. As the realization hit me, my eyes started to water.

"I'm gonna take that as a yes," Ryan smirked.

"I guess we owe Peter 50 bucks."

"50," I said under my breath.

I looked up, my breath getting caught in my throat when I saw Peter walking towards me. He smiled when his eyes met mine, but it fell when he saw his teammates around me and the tears threatening to spill.

"Peter!" Charlie gave him a weird "bro-hug" thing as he walked over, his eyes never leaving mine.

"I gotta give you credit man," Ryan laughed. "I didn't think you could get Y/F/N Y/L/N to actually kiss you."

Peter looked at him before quickly looking back at me, his eyes wide. "Y/N," he started. "Let me explain."

I slammed my locker shut and quickly walked past them, with my head down. "What the hell is wrong with you?" I heard Peter ask his friends before chasing after me.

"Whoawhoawhoawhoa, whoa." Peter ran and stopped in front of me, blocking my get-away path. "Let me explain, Y/N. Please."

"There's nothing to explain, Peter." I said, my voice getting stuck in my throat. "It's all pretty clear. You and your friends made a bet to see who could get the school's mute to kiss them. And you won."

I tried to brush past him, but he immediately stepped in front of me. "It's not like that."

"Really?" I laughed sarcastically. "Then what is it? Huh? If it wasn't a bet then why did you kiss me?"

He opened and closed his mouth, stuttering. "It wasn't. . . I mean it was, but. . . Y/N."

He grabbed my hands, but I took a step back and pulled my hands out of his grasp.

"Congratulations," I said, my voice breaking. "You got your loser neighbor to kiss you. I hope it was worth the $50."

I brushed past him wanting nothing more than to disappear.

*********************************

I skipped school and went directly home. I walked into my room and angrily threw my backpack on my chair in the corner.

I sat on my bed, struggling to hold back the tears. I had just started to calm down when my phone started ringing. I grabbed it out of my pocket, a sob getting stuck in my throat when I saw Peter's name and picture on my screen. I let out a frustrated scream as I threw my phone across the room, making it hit the wall.

The sob escaped my lips as I slowly slid off my bed, leaning against it and putting my head in my hands. My shoulders shook as all the frustration, hurt, confusion and embarrassment came out.

Suddenly, my door swung open. "Y/N? Baby, what happened?"

I looked up and could just barely see my mom through my tears. She walked into the room, instantly sitting next to me and pulling me into her chest.

She didn't say anything and gently rocked me, allowing me to sob. Once I had calmed down, she helped me stand up and we sat on the edge of my bed.

"What happened, sweetie?" She asked, reaching up and tucking a piece of hair behind my ear.

"Peter," I said, my voice breaking.

"Peter Kavinsky? What does he have to do with. . . Did he do something, baby? Did he hurt you?"

I explained everything to her. I told her about my crush on him since we were little. I told her about the barbecue and how Peter kissed me. I told her how it was all a bet.

"Oh, honey," she said gently. "That doesn't sound like Peter. Maybe his reason for the kiss had nothing to do with the bet."

"Doubt it," I said, picking at my nail polish.

"I don't," my mom shrugged.

"What do you mean?"

"Honey, I see the way Peter looks at you when you aren't paying attention. I think he really likes you and just. . ."

"Just what?" I scoffed. "Used a bet to kiss me?"

"Have you talked to him?" She sighed when I shook my head. "Maybe you should, baby."

After trying to convince me a few more times to talk to Peter, my mom left me alone. She kissed me on the forehead and told me she would let me know when it was time for dinner.

As I watched Netflix on my laptop, my phone continued to ring almost every hour. Well, every time Peter was between classes. By the end of the day, my eyes were red and my throat was raw. My mom must have warned my dad because he didn't ask why I was so quiet at dinner.

After we ate, I headed right back to my room. I took a hot shower, longer than normal. As I got out, I got dressed and slowly started brushing my hair. I stopped when I heard an odd sound. I shook it off as I finished brushing through my knots.

I walked out of the bathroom and stopped when I heard that weird sound again. I looked over just in time to see a small circle hit my window. I sighed before walking across my room and opening it up.

I looked down to see Peter standing by our garden, looking up at me. "You. . . You weren't answering your phone," he stuttered.

"Yeah," I shrugged. "That's something you tend to do when you don't want to talk to someone."

"Give me a chance to explain. Please, Y/N. I hate knowing you're mad at me. It's been distracting me all day. I couldn't focus in class because I just wanted to see you. I let pretty much every ball pass me during practice because I couldn't stop thinking about you. Please, Y/N. Just give me five minutes to explain everything."

I hesitated as I looked down at Peter and the desperate look in his eyes. "Fine," I finally gave in. "Five minutes."

I hesitated before ducking back into my room and closing my window. I slipped on a cardigan and quickly pulled my wet hair into a braid. "Where are you going?" My mom asked as I left my room.

"Peter is here. He wants to talk." I ignored her smile as I walked down the stairs. I opened the door, Peter standing directly in front of me.

"Hi," he said softly.

"Hey."

"Do you wanna talk in your room?" He asked, gesturing behind me.

I cleared my throat as I stepped outside. "Actually, let's talk out here." He nodded as I walked over and sat on the bench. He hesitated before sitting next to me.

"I never should have made that stupid bet," he sighed. "At first, I told them I wasn't going to do it, but they kept talking about it."

"About me?" I stuttered. His expression softened as he nodded slowly.

"They made jokes about what it would be like to kiss you. They thought I turned the bet down because I didn't want to kiss you. But, it was actually because I didn't want that to be our first kiss."

"But. . . You did kiss me. It was our first kiss."

"I know," he sighed, running his hand through his hair. He reached over and grabbed my hands. "You have to believe me, Y/N. When I kissed you, I wasn't thinking about the bet. I was thinking about you. I was thinking about how much we used to hang out and all of our adventures chasing dragons and fairies and whatever else we came up with. I was thinking about our parents' barbecues. I was thinking about our secret friendship and how I didn't want it to be a secret anymore. I was thinking about our late-night conversations. I was thinking about us."

"What do you mean, us?" I asked, my voice getting caught in my throat.

"About how, when I'm around you, I really feel like I can be myself. You know everything about me, Y/N. More than my teammates, my friends, even my mom. But there is one thing my mom knows that you don't."

"What?"

He reached forward and tucked a piece of hair behind my ear. His hand lingered, cupping my cheek. "The one thing she knows that you don't is how much that kiss meant to me," he said softly, his hand still holding my cheek.

"What do you mean?" I asked softly.

"In middle school, I realized that you weren't just my neighbor or my best friend. You also were a lot more. You were the love of my life."

"But. . . But, middle school was when we stopped hanging out at school." I stuttered, not sure what to stay to that.

"I know," he laughed as he looked away, dropping his hand. He looked back up at me, his expression changing. "It was the days I didn't spend with you that made me realize how much you meant to me. The longer I would go without seeing you, the more I realized how much I cared about you. It didn't take me long to know that I was in love with you."

"What made you. . ." I let my sentence drop.

"The guys had seen you wave at me and started talking about how quiet you were. The more they talked about you, the angrier I got. It's not that they were saying rude or inappropriate things, it was just I had this weird feeling of protectiveness over you."

"Really?" I gasped, my eyes watering.

He nodded as he pulled me closer to him. I held my breath as he pressed his lips to mine. I instantly started moving my lips against his. He pulled away, pressing his forehead to mine. "I'm sorry I didn't make as big of an effort to be around you, but I promise to change that. Starting tomorrow."

"What happens tomorrow?" I asked, leaning away.

"I drive you to school, walk you to and from class, hold your hand, and eat lunch with you. All the cliché couple stuff." He smiled at me.

"Couple stuff?" I asked, getting caught on that word. "We're a couple?"

"Yeah," he shrugged, sending me a playful smile. "If you'll go out with me. Officially."

"I'd like that," I smiled before pulling him towards me and pressing my lips to his.

#noah centineo #noah centineo imagines #noah centineo x reader #peter kavinsky #peter kavinsky imagine #peter kavinsky x reader

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writerunsolved · 5 years

Text

The Drunken Mistake - Ch. 7

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Category: F/M

Fandom: Real Person Fiction

Relationship: Tom Hiddleston/Reader

Genres: Fluff and Humor

Language: English

Chapters: 7/?

Summary: You're a young up-and-coming singer based in London who has just released her first album.

After a wild night at the VMAs and some heavy partying and drinking at the afterparty, you write and publish a drunken tweet about a certain celebrity and one of their friends. You only realise what you've done the next day when a slew of texts and calls wakes you up to a dreadful but expected hangover. You immediately delete the tweet, but you're left to deal with the consequences. A public apology would probably be enough to make everything go away if you hadn't been invited to a movie premiere where said celebrity is most certainly going to be.

You decide that the best course of action will be to try and avoid them, but your plans almost never go the way you want them to.

Author’s Note: Quick PSA: I’d noticed getting fewer notes than usual on the last two chapters. I later found out that Tumblr has killed internal links too, which means that my updates supposedly didn’t show up in searches. For this reason, starting today, I have to stop linking to my previous and next chapters. To make extra sure you don’t miss any updates, you can also subscribe to this fic on AO3.

Seen the situation, your reblogs are more important than ever! Remember to support your favourite creators on Tumblr by reblogging rather than liking their posts, it is the only way their work can get around and reach a wider audience! Thank you in advance for reading!

Previous chapters can be found on this blog.

Chapter Seven - Just As Sweet As Coffee And With The Same Aftertaste

When you’d gotten home after the dinner, you had just as mechanically divested and put on your pyjamas. Only once you’d laid down on your bed to sleep, had the weight of what had happened finally dawned upon your mind and quickly become a thought to worry about.

In the safety of your bedroom and under the cover of darkness, as well as the more literal duvet that the cold weather had started requiring, your brain had once again begun spinning out of your control providing you with ever new anxieties. You had soon started examining your behaviour during the whole evening, considering the way you’d eaten, laughed, drunk, the subjects you’d decided to talk about, and every single reaction you’d elicited from Tom. But the one thought that had kept circling back throughout your meticulous examination had been that of the almost-kiss you had almost-shared.

Right then, an unbearable feeling of embarrassment had burned inside you like a sudden stab, and you had immediately felt the shame that came with presuming that none of it had been reciprocated. Once the belief that you had forced yourself on poor, polite Tom had taken root in your head, sleep had seemed like a distant memory you had no idea how to chase, nor grasp.

At some point, you had lost any sense of the time passing, so much that only the vibration of your phone on the nightstand had finally made you realise how late it had gotten. When you’d hurriedly snatched it to check who it was, desperate for any kind of distraction from your own train of thought, the single text you had received had been enough to put your mind at ease and make you decide that it was time to try and sleep.

“I had a wonderful night,” it had read, “I look forward to next time.”

You hadn’t answered right then, only seen that it was almost 2 AM and turned around with a smile on your face, determined to rest.

When you finally did wake up, you were drowsy enough that the memory of the previous night wasn’t the first thought in your mind. You checked your phone and saw that it was almost 11 AM, panic shot through you for just a second before you remembered that it was Sunday and you had no work, so you relaxed back into the mattress with a sigh.

You instinctively reached for your phone, mostly to check if you had any new texts, not yet remembering that you still had one from Tom to answer. When you took it in your hand, his notification was still there, hitting you with a mix of undefined emotions.

“Hi, and good morning :) I also had a great time, we should meet again soon," you sent him in response. Then, in another text, you added, “If work allows, of course.”

You wondered just for a moment if it sounded like you were making excuses not to meet again, but your worry was instantly alleviated by him replying “I’ll definitely let you know when I’m free again, and I hope you’ll do the same.” You agreed and for the rest of the day you texted back and forth like you’d been doing for a while now, and the normalcy of it kept your preoccupations about the night before at bay.

The next few days passed in much the same fashion, with the exception of going back to work on Monday. You were distracted enough with new interviews and finally some meetings to determine when and where your upcoming concert tour would take place, that you barely had time to dwell on your anxieties again.

They had certainly faded from your mind that Wednesday when you were having lunch with Nina at a small place on the same street as the label building.

You were sitting down at a sleek square table, lunch in front of you, and slowly picking at the food while Nina spoke rapidly into her mobile phone. You had no idea what she was talking about, her voice fast enough and low enough that you could only catch a couple of words here and there, like “Liam” and “Be on time” and a whole lot of “No”. You looked distractedly around you, the small restaurant had a cold, minimalistic vibe to it, with polished aluminium tables and chairs. It was the first time you ate there, Nina had been the one to suggest it, you didn’t mind the food but it wasn’t anything special.

A lot of people kept coming and going, only very few opting to sit down in the small space that the restaurant allowed, and most just grabbing paper bags full of food to take away and eat elsewhere. You really didn’t understand the appeal of the place, but you imagined it would certainly be convenient to stop there and pick up a quick meal if you worked in one of the many office buildings of the area.

Your inconsequential thoughts were interrupted by Nina almost slamming the phone down on the tabletop and declaring, “This is why I don’t want interns, they’re only a waste of my time.” She sighed loudly and faced you, shaking off the annoyance of the phone conversation and digging into her lunch with vigour.

“Sorry for that,” she started, carelessly waving her fork around and talking animatedly, “Talking to Liam is like screaming into the wind. He’s always carrying that notepad around and writing everything down, and yet he still calls me for every tiny thing,” she huffed again, “Unbelievable.”

You nodded in sympathy, “I guess it must be hard to keep up with you,” you told her, “Not even I have any idea of the number of things you get done in a single day.”

“Don’t defend him,” she groaned and pointed at you with her fork, you felt mildly threatened, “I know I’m a force to be reckoned with, but if he wants to get anywhere at the label he’s gonna have to learn.”

You replied with a small “Fair enough,” and took another bite of your lunch, Nina did the same.

“This food isn’t all that much,” she commented, “I shouldn’t have trusted Mike, but anyway...” She paused and quickly ate another mouthful or two, then directed her attention at you, “I don’t believe you’ve told me about your dinner the other night.”

Her change of subject surprised you enough that you almost choked on the food you’d just put in your mouth. You started coughing convulsively, barely managing to swallow a crouton before it choked you to death. Nina just looked at you silently, unscrewing the water bottle you were sharing and pouring some of the liquid in your glass. You thanked her with a look and gulped down the water, finally able to breathe normally again.

“Is that a positive or negative answer?” she asked you with a smirk.

You straightened up and gave her a nasty look, “Very funny.”

“It was a little bit funny,” she pushed her thumb and index finger together to show how much, “But mostly it was adorable, I can’t believe how much of a goner you are.”

You spluttered, you were just about to reply when your phone, which had been sitting on the side of your glass, vibrated with a new text alert. You ignored your train of thought in favour of checking the notification but didn’t get any further than seeing that it was from Tom because Nina started laughing. You looked at her, confused by her reaction.

She pointed at the phone you were clutching with the hand still holding her fork, “See, you have no leg to stand on! You literally stopped mid-thought to check if he was sending you a text.”

“I- I wasn’t- I didn’t! I-” you stuttered, trying to find something to defend yourself, “We were just… We were already texting before!” you almost shouted. Then, realising your sudden increase in volume, you cleared your throat and tried again in a much lower voice and a casual shrug, “It would be rude to leave him hanging.”

Nina smiled and rolled her eyes, “Oh, you are just so,” she elongated the word, “Considerate.”

“Well, excuse me,” you rebutted, an exaggeratedly haughty look on your face.

“Go on,” she urged you, “Read it. I know you’re dying to.”

“I’m not dying to,” you muttered but didn’t hesitate to open up the text. For some reason or other, you and Tom had started talking about the cartoons you used to watch as children, you had no idea how you’d gotten to the subject, and he was just following up on the conversation. You shot back a quick answer and put the phone back on the table.

“Anyway,” Nina started again when she saw you were done, “I really do want to know about dinner. Come on, don’t leave me hanging,” she pouted.

“It was just dinner,” you answered, “There isn’t all that much to say, really...”

“Okay, okay, I get it,” she nodded, “I can tell you don’t want to talk about it.” You wanted to protest, but she continued in a more serious tone, “Just remember that we’re friends, and whenever you’re ready - and if you feel like you need to - you can talk to me, okay?”

You shook your head gently, “I appreciate it, Nina. But, honestly, you’re making it out to be much bigger than it is.”

“I know you, hon,” she repeated, “And I’m pretty sure you’re stressing about this. But I also know that you need time to think about it by yourself, which is fine,” she insisted, “But don’t feel like you have to keep everything inside because you think we’re gonna judge you or something like that.”

“It’s not that,” you sighed and looked down at the table, nervously picking at the edge with your index finger, “I’m just not sure of the situation, and I don’t feel like I’m ready to share what’s going through my mind yet. I need more time to clear my head is all,” you finally admitted and looked up at Nina. She was smiling kindly.

“It’s okay, hon,” she reassured you, “I’ll still be here later.”

You forced yourself to smile back, trying to show your gratitude, but the feeling of being a bad friend was nagging at you. Something in you wanted to push and make you open up, but your insistence to deny that you were feeling anything at all was much stronger. Sometimes you just wished you could be a better friend to the people supporting you.

“Oh, I almost forgot,” Nina changed the subject swiftly, “The 4 PM meeting on Friday was cancelled, so you can definitely make other plans for the evening. And Monday, too,” she added, “My parents are gonna be in town, so I’m giving you a day off,” she winked.

“Nice!” you commented, then asked her, “How are your parents by the way? It was so lovely meeting them last May.”

“They’re fine,” she waved a hand dismissively, “They’re enjoying retirement in their dreamy French villa, as usual. You should join us for dinner on Monday, they loved meeting you, too. They were smitten by that talentueuse jeune fille,” she said the last sentence in an exaggerated French accent, an imitation of her parents’, “And wouldn’t stop talking about you.”

You laughed. The rest of the meal was spent making plans for the dinner on Monday. After that, you both went back to work. Later in the day, you texted Tom to let him know you would be free on Friday afternoon and asked him if he wanted to get coffee. He accepted enthusiastically and promised to discuss specifics later in the day.

Amidst your hectic working hours, Friday seemed to come in an instant.

You’d heard from Tom again and, in the end, you’d agreed on going to Caffé Piccolo. You’d mentioned their amazing coffee in previous conversations, and he was thrilled to finally get to experience it too.

That day, you managed to leave work exactly at 4 PM. The morning meetings about the tour had been slow-going and full of technical information you couldn’t do much about. In fact, you weren’t sure why your presence had been required at all, but you hadn’t minded too much and Nina had also been there.

You exited the building and looked at the time on your phone. You and Tom had arranged to meet at a quarter to five in front of Caffé Piccolo, which meant that you still had forty-five minutes to get there, it would be more than enough time to make it without being late. You looked up at the sky, thick grey clouds hovered above the rooftops, promising rain. You frowned, hoping that you would make it home before the weather turned for the worse, then walked away toward the tube station.

You made it to the café with a few minutes to spare and no rain on your path. You briefly considered whether to wait for Tom inside, but in the end, opted to stay where you were. Soon enough, you saw him hurrying down the street from the same direction you’d come, straight from the metro.

When he reached you, you could see that he was wind-swept and that he’d probably ran to make it in time. His hair was in complete disarray and his coat was unbuttoned, showing that he was wearing a soft navy-blue sweater underneath.

“Hi!” he greeted you cheerfully, a huge smile on his lips. He passed a hand through his hair, trying to slide it back in place, but it did very little. “Sorry, I’m late.”

You smiled back, “Oh, don’t worry, you’re not late,” you reassured him, “I got here a bit early, but you’re perfectly on time”.

He touched your shoulder gently and said, “It’s good to see you again,” then, he hugged you tightly.

You felt just as off guard as the first time you’d hugged. You guessed it would take a while before you would get used to it. You obviously didn’t hate it, but you had trouble letting yourself go, though you did try. By the time you separated, you’d even managed to reciprocate the hug.

“So this is the legendary Caffé Piccolo,” he said, looking behind you at the small door, “Did I say it right?”

“I’m not one to judge,” you joked, “But be reassured that if you say it wrong inside, they won’t hesitate to correct you.” He laughed, you added, “And I’m not sure about legendary, but their coffee is certifiably extraordinary.”

“I was excited to try it before, but now I can’t wait one more second. Shall we go in?” he asked, extending a hand towards the door.

You nodded and turned around to make your way inside, keeping the door open for Tom who followed you in and thanked you. You let the door close behind him and looked around, searching for an empty table. You couldn’t see Andrea, at his place at the cash register was his mother Santuzza, who immediately saw you enter and welcomed you with a huge smile.

“Andrea! Vieni un attimo alla cassa! ” she shouted toward the back, from which Andrea appeared. He quickly took his mother’s place at the cash register so Santuzza could make her way towards you, open arms ready to squeeze you. “Gioia mia, it’s so nice to see you!”, she spoke with a thick accent and her smile still in place. As soon as she reached you, she threw her arms around you and crushed you into the sweetest hug she could manage.

“Mrs Fusco, I’m happy to see you, too,” you told her when she let you go. You massaged your left side carefully, she had pushed so tightly around you, that you couldn’t help but jam your own elbow into the side of your ribs. You could see Andrea behind her punching in one of the costumers’ order, he raised his eyes from the cash register and spotted you looking back. He greeted you with a small wave of his hand and went back to his task.

“Oh, please, tesoro mio, call me Santuzza. How many times do I have to tell you?” she chastised you, then asked, “What are you doing here, goia?”

“I brought a friend to try your magnificent coffee,” you replied, gesturing towards Tom, who was watching the exchange with a tiny smile.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mrs Fusco,” he told Santuzza, then introduced himself, “I’m Tom, I’ve heard amazing things about your establishment.” He extended his hand, and when Santuzza did the same, he lifted her hand to his lips and gently kissed it. You could immediately see how flattered the gesture had made her and covered your mouth to hide the impressed grin that had bloomed on your lips.

“Oh my,” Santuzza almost blushed, “What a charming young man you have there,” she turned to you, “Mi raccomando, amore mio, tienitelo bello stretto.”

You laughed slightly, sure that the compliment had made Tom bashful, but not of what Santuzza had told you with her last sentence.

“Enjoy the coffee,” she told you both and went back to her place at the cash register, pushing Andrea back towards the kitchen in the back.

“You speak Italian?” Tom asked you while you made your way to one of the small tables next to the large window that overlooked the front of the store.

You took off your coat and draped it on the back of your chair before sitting down, Tom did the same. “Not really,” you told him, “I’m not sure what she said, to be honest, I only understand the pet names because she uses them so much.”

“I see,” he replied, “She was calling you ‘love’, and ‘joy’, and ‘treasure’. I can understand a little Italian, but not enough to know what she told you, I’m afraid,” he explained.

“That’s impressive!” you commented, widening your eyes, “You should teach me what you know sometime.”

“Why not,” he smiled, then changed the subject, “I assume you come here a lot, you seem very close with the owner.”

“Owners, actually,” you specified, “Santuzza and her husband Giovanni opened the café with their son Andrea.” Tom was listening interestedly. “From what I know, Andrea went to a business university here in London. When he went back to Italy after that, he convinced his parents to move to London too and to open Caffé Piccolo,” you explained, “They already had a small place back in Italy, and he believed they could really get somewhere with their coffee specialities.”

Tom looked around, almost every other table in the room was occupied, and there were several people waiting in line for their coffee at the counter. “I think he might have had the right idea,” he joked, referring to the small crowd.

You chuckled. “I know I amped up their coffee a lot,” you emphasised the last two words, “But I swear I wasn’t lying.”

Before Tom could answer, Andrea had reemerged from the back of the café and was approaching your table. “Bellezza, it’s been a while,” he greeted you. He looked around and towards the entrance before continuing, “No Nina today?”

“Hey, Andrea,” you greeted him with a smile, “Nope, no Nina.” He sighed in relief. “I brought a new friend today.”

At that, Andrea noticed Tom, who was sitting cross-legged in front of you with a small smirk, and gulped. He spluttered several times before squeaking out, “I didn’t know you were friends with Tom Hiddleston.”

You snickered at Andrea’s loss for words, he was probably mourning Nina’s absence just then.

“Hi, Andrea, nice to meet you,” Tom offered his hand to shake, still smirking and going along with your teasing.

Andrea took it and said, “It’s the same for me, Mr Hiddleston.”

Behind Andrea’s back, you widened your mouth in amused surprise and outrage: Andrea had never been that polite to Nina and you!

“Please, just Tom,” he answered. When their hands separated, Andrea took a step back and looked between you and Tom squaring his shoulders in the semblance of a professional demeanour, and asked, “Are you ready to order?”

You glanced at Tom and asked him, “Would you mind if I ordered for you?”

“Please,” he replied, “Go ahead.”

“Do you like chocolate?” you asked him one last time, and when he nodded you turned to Andrea and finally said, “We’ll have a Marocchino and a Caffé al Ginseng, please.” Andrea, who had taken out a small notepad, wrote the order down and nodded, leaving the two of you and walking back towards the counter.

“I’m kind of curious about what you just ordered,” Tom started, “But I also want to keep the surprise alive,” he joked. You laughed. A beat or two of silence passed before he spoke again, “I was surprised by your text,” he said, “Pleasantly, of course. Did you get a long weekend?”

“No, actually,” you explained, “The afternoon meeting for today was cancelled, and since it was the last appointment for today, I thought I’d let you know and see if you were free too.”

“Well, thank you for that,” he replied, “I was glad you thought of me.”

You blushed, “No problem,” you almost mumbled, smiling shyly. Then asked, “Did you also get a half-day?”

“Unfortunately not,” he lifted the corner of his mouth in a bitter smile, “I was free this morning, but I have a work dinner later tonight.”

“Oh, I see. What time do you need to get going?”

“Don’t worry about it,” he replied with a brush of his hand, “It’s not until eight.”

You were going to say more when Andrea approached your table again, carrying a round metal tray. He set half of it on the table, keeping the other half up with his hand, and started moving the cups out of it. He set two glasses filled with water on the table, then said, “A Marocchinohere,” and deposited a small plate with a slightly larger than usual espresso cup filled to the brim with a deep brown chocolate and coffee concoction in front of Tom, then a smaller one with what looked like a very weak coffee in front of you, “And a Caffé al Ginseng for you.” You were about to thank him, but he added, “And I brought some Cantuccini. Dad made them this morning, let me know what you think,” and winked at you.

“Thank you, Andrea,” you told him. He nodded, picking up the tray and holding it in front of him, then left with a quick friendly touch to your shoulder.

You looked back at Tom, he was observing Andrea intently, but when he noticed you were looking at him he smiled with a raise of his eyebrows and said, “Shall we?”

You nodded and picked up your cup, he did the same, taking a whiff of the beverage before bringing it to his lips. You took a drink of your coffee and surveyed him from the top of your cup, trying to gauge his reaction. He finally tasted the liquid and, as soon as it touched his tongue, he let out an appreciative moan.

“This is amazing!” he commented, visibly impressed.

You set your already almost empty cup back on the table and reached for the half-moon shaped cookies, taking one. “I’m glad to hear that,” you smiled, then took a bite.

“So I can definitely taste the chocolate and coffee,” he stated, “But how is this made exactly? And what is the one you ordered?”

You swallowed the cookie bite and replied, “I’ve been told Marocchino is not actually coffee, but a separate beverage. Although it is made with coffee and also sweetened milk cream, in addition to dark chocolate, of course.” He nodded in agreement. “And the one I got is made with Ginseng extract and milk, mixed with espresso, which is why it looks like watered down coffee,” you explained, “Would you like to try some?”

“Oh, no, thank you. Maybe next time,” he smiled, then reached for the cookies. You looked at him expectantly, ”Wow! These are incredible,” he exclaimed, “I’ve had Cantucci before, but these are really good.”

“Glad it lived up to your expectations,” you joked.

He laughed then said, “I hope you don’t mind me asking. You said you had a meeting that was cancelled, what would it have been about?”

“It’s totally fine,” you reassured him, “We’ve been in talks about my upcoming world tour for the last few days.”

“That’s amazing! Have you worked out the details yet?”

“Not yet, no,” you replied, “The dates for the European part are more or less all decided,” you explained, “But the American part is still a little foggy. Nina, my manager, was trying to keep them pretty cohesive, but the higher-ups have been saying that they’d rather have me take a break after all the European concerts are done and wait a couple of months before we move the tour to North America.”

He hummed pensively, “That doesn’t seem very intuitive,” he considered, “When are you going to start travelling around for it?”

You made a dismissive gesture with your hand and said, “Oh, not until next May, so there’s still a lot of time to argue about specifics,” you joked. “What about you?” you asked him then, “Any new projects in the near future? Something to do with tonight’s dinner?”

“Tonight is actually for some promotional appearances for that voice acting project I told you about before,” he responded, “But I should start on something new in a couple of weeks...”

You spent the next hour talking about work and pleasantly chit-chatting about your personal lives. The atmosphere of the café made you feel at ease more than the restaurant had a few days before. Something about the familiarity of the environment and the repeated experience of going out with Tom helped you relax like you hadn’t quite been able to do the first time you’d eaten together. Tom seemed just as serene in the more low-profile setting. Either way, you barely noticed the time passing by, marked by the arrival of a text from your sister some hour and a half later.

You ignored it at first, unwilling to interrupt the conversation and be impolite, but when more texts kept coming, you had to excuse yourself and check in case of an emergency.

“Ben just broke up with me,” the texts said, “Can I sleep at yours tonight? ” and then, in lack of a response, “I'll be there at seven.”

The surprise and worry must have shown on your face because Tom asked you, “Is everything okay?”

“I am so sorry,” you apologised, putting away your phone, “I really don’t want to cut this short, but my sister just told me she’s coming over to sleep at my house.”

“Did something happen?” he asked.

“I’m not sure,” you replied, “Something with her boyfriend. I’m honestly so sorry,” you insisted.

“Oh, no, please, it’s okay,” he reassured you, “It’s almost time I get going, too. Let me use the restroom first and then we can go, okay?”

You nodded. He quickly left the table, so you started gathering your things, putting on your coat and taking out your wallet from your bag. When he came back, you waited for him to do the same and told him, “I’m gonna go ahead and pay.”

He hesitated, then told you with a guilty look, “I already did that.” You were about to protest, but he continued, with a conciliatory smile, “I promise I’ll let you pay next time.” You didn’t believe him, but you dropped the issue with a small shake of your head and a playful roll of your eyes.

Soon enough, you walked out of the café, waving goodbye to Andrea at the counter. You couldn’t see his mom anymore so you mouthed, “Say bye to your parents for me.” Andrea nodded and went back to work, and you finally left.

Before leaving, you and Tom stopped on the curb in front of the café to say bye. “I would have liked to stay a little longer,” you told him, “I’m really sorry.”

“Please, don’t apologise anymore,” he said, looking intensely into your eyes. He leaned a gentle hand on your shoulder, “I’m sure we can meet again soon,” he continued, unconsciously playing with the lapel of your coat.

You smiled timidly, “I hope so too,” you told him, “I had a great time, good luck with dinner.”

“Thanks,” he responded, “Let me know if something serious happened with your sister and if I can do anything, okay?” You nodded, he dropped his hand from your shoulder, “I’ll see you soon,” he said finally and turned away with a small wave.

You waved back and turned around, walking in the opposite direction, on the path to your house. When you got there, your sister was waiting in front of the main door, huddled onto herself like she was cold and looking dejected. When she saw you approaching, she ran towards you and buried her head in your neck, expecting a hug. You squeezed her and tenderly caressed her hair back. When you separated, her eyes were wet with tears. “Let’s get you inside,” you told her softly, and took out the keys to the entrance.

Translation of French and Italian dialogue: - talentueuse jeune fille = talented young lady - Vieni un attimo alla cassa! = Come to the register for a bit! - Gioia mia / gioia, tesoro mio, Bellezza = My joy / joy, my treasure, Beautiful - Mi raccomando, amore mio, tienitelo bello stretto. = Make sure to hang onto him hard, my love.

Chapter 8 coming soon

@honeybournehippy @namelesslosers @unlikelytigerqueen @effielumiere @theoneanna

#tom hiddleston #tom hiddleston x reader #tom hiddleston fanfiction #tom hiddleston fanfic #reader x tom hiddleston #tom hiddleston fic #tom hiddleston imagine #tom hiddleston x you #fanfiction #reader tom hiddleston #tom hiddleston reader #tom hiddleston fandom

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nymphl · 5 years

Text

Bloodbound - A vampire!Hux x Reader - Prologue - Leave a Scar

A/N - Hello! xD Here we go with another piece of my stories posted to tumblr. This is a vampire!Hux story with lots of... well... what can I say? blood and sex, it’s a given Politics involved. Apart from the prologue the chapters are usually big +7k. I know space vampires is not usually a concept that people would be excited to read, but bear with me and I promise a good read xD This story is a gift to @sassmasterjedi

Story summary: Bound by blood... After you left the First Order and joined the Resistance, moved with a deep hatred for General Armitage Hux, you never expected to meet said man in a Gala in Canto Bight, nor that your past was intimately interlaced with his. When the past is written in blood, can you start anew, a new chapter of your own, or are you forever bound to him? When all is said and done, can you still keep on hating a man who has all eternity to hate himself?

Warnings for the entire story: Will contain at times; graphic violence, sex, drugs and manipulation, coarse language and OOCness.

AO3 tags: from lovers to enemies; from enemies to lovers; partners to lovers; eventual romance; vampire!hux; vampires in space; vampires, blood, blood binds; First Order; Resistance; power play; politics; Hux backstory; political alliances; political betrayals; vampire sex; shameless smut; memory loss; mesmerizing; vampire powers; vampire politics; Starkiller Base; military prowess; empire; emperor; Emperor!Hux; dhampirs;

Wordcount: 3289

NEXT CHAPTER

“Whatever doesn't kill you is gonna leave a scar.”

“DID YOU SUMMON ME, SIR?"

The words to leave your lips were no more than a whisper. It was the middle of the night and the room — his room — was remarkably dark. Apart from the dim light coming from the study room, there was no other source of illumination in the darkened space.

You wondered if he had a strong headache or something like that, for he simply never liked darkened spaces — he never talked about it, but you guessed it was somewhat related to his troubled childhood and abusive father. And for a fact, it’d been weeks since he last summoned you. Or even stayed in the same room as you without at least another person in it. When he spoke, his eyes were never focused on you.

They were always somewhere; always distant and unfeeling.

At first it hurt, but you decided it was to be expected. He was a newly-appointed General and you were… just a common officer. You were remarkably good at what you did — being his assistant; it is, if he would still have you —, but weren’t all in the First Order? You were no better than the officer with whom you shared your quarters.

The mere thought of him seeking you now — weeks after your last encounter had your heart racing and your palms sweating.

A sigh left you as you waited for him to speak. The eerie silence coupled with the fact you couldn’t distinguish his features made you tremble. Couldn’t he just speak at once?

“Careful with your words, Officer (L/N).” You didn’t know if he’d left his armchair or… Either way, you could hear his voice as clearly as if he were speaking inside your head. You shuddered. “Your insubordination will not be tolerated any longer.”

You furrowed your brows.

Your eyes widened.

Did you say the words aloud? You were sure that was absolutely not the case.

You straightened your back and held your breath.

“I apologize, Sir.”

You were met with silence and silence only — which, honestly, wasn’t far from what you were used to. He’d this terrible habit of staying quiet when you needed him to say something.

How you hated him!

He shifted in his seat. The sound of something — a glass perhaps? — placed over a hard surface — wood, metal? — startled you. The silence was so sepulchral, you could hear your own heart beating against your ribcages…

…and your breath.

But not his.

You could actually see your own breathing. It left your lips and became a white smoke in the blackish space. Did this place — his room — get any colder?

You were getting tired of this. Of his aloofness, of his cold shoulder and inexplicable behavior. Before he travelled — it is, before he left the Starkiller Base and went on some mission for the Supreme Leader in the Inner Rim —, everything was just fine between you.

He was never an outspoken man — not about his feelings at least —, but you figured out he loved you. No matter how harsh he usually was, you knew he cared. Kriffs, you loved him too!

But now you weren’t so sure of his feelings.

“For kriffs’ sake, will you just speak?”

As soon as you said that — as soon as the words left your mouth in an angry, senseless outburst —, you regretted it. Instead of some sort of rebuttal or promises of punishment, there was a sharp intake of breath.

When he did that it usually meant he was pissed off.

But so were you.

“I am leaving.”

For good.

You could’ve added. You weren’t taking any of this crap. His crap. Not anymore.

Turning on your heels to leave, you were surprised by his bare fingers around your wrist. Startled, you tried to yank your arm off his grasp, only to have him tightening his grip — much stronger and much colder than what you were used too; again, did someone drop the temperature in this room? It was freezing! — around you.

His voice was raspy — was he drunk? —, cold and unbelievably lowly. If not for having his lips so close to your ear you doubted you’d be able to hear him, “You are right. You are leaving. For good, (L/N).”

The meaning of his words hit you like a wild bantha on the run. But the fact he used your surname in such proximity made your heart clench.

It had been one year and half since the two of you crossed the boundaries of boss and assistant and became lovers, and except from when you were working, he never called you other than by your name.

If he now thought appropriate to go back to last name basis, it meant things between you had shifted. They were beyond repair now.

You bit your bottom lip, suppressing the need to cry — you had been very sensitive lately, ever since he left, you couldn’t get a grip of your emotions, “What do you mean, Sir?”

His hands were running over your nude arms, very, very lightly, as he walked around you, surveying your form. You could not see him, but you were sure he could at least feel all of you.

“Wearing only an excuse of a slip…” He said against your ear. No, he purred. The sound sent a jolt straight to your core. Subconsciously, you leaned against him — all disappointment and anger completely forgotten. “Did you expect something out of this encounter?”

You were so shocked at how nonchalantly he sounded, you had to try and disentangle yourself.

He didn’t allow it.

He wouldn’t.

“Stop biting your lips,” he hissed as you tried to wiggle out of his grasp. It only helped you brush against his crotch.

The two of you gasped.

He was hard.

Very hard.

And pulsating against you.

Somewhere in your mind you wondered how he could know you were biting your lips. If you couldn’t see him, it was for sure he couldn’t see you either, right?

Your thoughts were cut short when his bare fingers — where were those damned gloves of his? He seldom took them off when you made love — reached the inside of your thighs and outlined your lips.

A moan escaped you as you ground against him. It’d been weeks since he’d last touched you — and you couldn’t recall a better time. Even if everything was a bit fogged in your mind, your body would never forget the sensations he awakened in you.

He was good in bed — remarkably good, but you thought that it was more because the two of you were acquainted with each other’s body by now —, very enthusiastic and controlling. But what you experienced in his arms last time was beyond expectations. He took you without hurry — and you never thought slow sex could be that good — drawing pleasure out of our body even when you thought that was no longer possible. Kriffs, he even made you climax by merely caressing your neck with his lips — and biting into it too — and playing with the sidelines of your breasts.

When he was done with you, you thought you’d died and gone to heaven. You were glad he was there to hold you, otherwise you’d have collapsed. And then… He left. And you were too sleepy and tired — exhausted, really — to ask where he was going.

“You wanton creature,” he whispered against your earlobe. His lips were everywhere. The outline of your ear, your neck and your shoulder. His nude fingers — the ones that weren’t scissoring you and yanking from you sweet mewls —, were working with the straps of your nighty. “Shhh… Do you want anyone to hear us?”

Your eyes snapped open.

Your breath became heavier.

No.

Of course not.

But as he pinched your clit to the point you could no longer distinguish pain from pleasure, you couldn’t help but let out a loud moan.

“General!” you cried out, sinking your nails against his skin. It seemed much firmer, much… unbreakable than before. Usually, he’d hiss against your ear, reprimand you on your behavior. Now, all he did was to remove your only piece of clothing completely from you.

The black silky fabric slid down your body, leaving your perky and so very sensitive — everything about you was beyond sensitive; pain and pleasure could be felt in a higher level of intensity — breasts exposed to the coldness of the room.

You even thought about crossing your arms against them — to keep your body warm, to hide yourself —, but he growled — he actually growled, like an animal! — against your ear. His slightly elongated fangs rasped against your neck in warning.

A shiver ran down your spine.

Better than having his lips against your neck was to have his hand wrapped around your throat — cutting your breath slightly short — as he brought you to an earth-shattering climax.

The mere thought had you sneaking your fingers through his hair — you knew he hated when you did that, but you did so, nonetheless —, burying his face against the curve of your neck.

“Armitage,” you whispered in his ear, as you brought his hand to your breasts. All you wanted was his mouth on them, worshiping them as he usually did. However, he seemed obsessed with your neck; his teeth scrapped the skin lightly.

His fingers inside you brought you each second closer to your ending — their inhuman pace, sometimes very fast and then very, very slowly, had you moaning shamelessly, bucking your hips against his; pressing your ass against his crotch. Your hand left his — letting him manipulate your body on its own — and palmed him through his trousers.

So hard.

So kriffing hard.

He breathed deeply against your ear — his hips, too, bucked against yours, against your hand. You even tried to shift in his arms, so you could touch — work — him better, but he didn’t allow you.

“(Y/N…),” he whispered back in a warning, before he sank his sharp teeth into you. The pain of your skin being teared apart should’ve you asking for him to stop. Instead, you cried out in pleasure as his thumb found your clit and expertly handled it.

His fingers inside of you reached an inhuman pace as you bucked your hips against his hand. Pain and pleasure mixed in the most explosive of sensations as your orgasm raked through you.

Your lids fell closed; you surrendered completely to him.

A moan left you.

Him.

You were no longer sure.

But as your body shook against his — with his fingers working you inhumanly slow now, till he dragged another orgasm out of you —, you couldn’t help but feel tired.

Exhausted.

Your body went limp in his arms. Your heart, which always beat at a frenzy pace — especially in the last few days, as if more than one organ beat inside of you — slowed its pace.

And as the pleasure became only a tingly sensation running through your body, you couldn’t help but feel pain.

Excruciating.

It hurt.

It kriffing hurt.

Still, he wouldn’t let you go. He wouldn’t remove his teeth from your skin.

It burned.

It kriffing burned.

Armitage!

As expected, there was no response from him. You weren’t even sure you said his name out loud, or if you just imagined it. Your hands went back to his hair, pulling at the ginger strands strongly. Forcefully.

“Stop! I’m…”

You wanted to warn him…

To make him stop…

To tell him that you were…

That inside of you…

You grabbed onto his hair with renewed strength, yanking him away from you. The will — the need — to live — to survive — was greater than anything.

Even if he growled, he let go of you with remarkably ease. He purred as his teeth detracted from your skin. There was no need to touch your neck to know it was bleeding. You could feel it running down your skin.

You could almost see it on his lips.

And you could remember — faintly, vaguely… like a foggy dream — it happening before. It wasn’t the first time he did it — that he drank your blood.

Your eyes fell closed out of their own volition.

It was difficult to stay awake.

It was difficult to think.

It was difficult to even breath.

You wanted to be disgusted…

…mad…

…afraid…

Yet, all you could feel was numbness taking over your body. Crawling under your skin and gripping at your barely beating heart. Next thing you knew — you felt —, his wrist was pressed against your lips and his thick blood filled your mouth.

As if your life depended on it, you grabbed onto his wrist firmly, holding it against your lips as he whispered something you couldn’t understand in your ear. Small sounds — purrs — left him as he encouraged you to drink more of it — every single drop.

The coppery taste was strong on your tongue, nauseating even, but you couldn’t help yourself. You needed it. Craved it. You could feel the slit from where the blood poured onto your thirsty mouth closing, so you teared it open with your own unsharp and plain teeth.

His hand wrapped around your throat, however, prevented you from further feasting on him.

“Enough.”

Your lids felt heavy, but your heart was beating normally again. With it, you — with your temporarily heightened senses — could hear another heart pulsating in you. And if you could, you bet it wasn’t different for him.

His hold around your throat tightened momentarily only to loosen shortly after. Quicker than your eyes could follow, he was in front of you; his heavy coat fell around your shoulders, covering your nudity.

Groggily, you looked down — at your bloodied fingers — and panic began to build into you. Stepping back, your tried to disentangle from him, but his fingers were back to your throat faster than you could follow.

You gasped.

“Look at me.” His voice was raspy, low and angry. You thought you’d never seen him that angry — not even when you started working for him and committed small mistakes that only Armitage Hux would find unacceptable. “You’ll leave the First Order, (Y/N) and you won’t ever come back.”

You furrowed your brows.

Why would you do that?

How would you do that?

It wasn’t like the First Order allowed anyone to leave it — only dead and you had no wish to die anytime soon.

You even wanted to voice that question out loud, but his fingers around your throat prevented that. You couldn’t make a sound.

“You’ll forget this night ever happened.”

His nose was almost brushing yours now; his full-blown pupils attracted yours like a moth to a flame. You couldn’t look away. You didn’t want to.

“I won’t remember this night,” you repeated; numbness taking over your being.

You felt tired.

Exhausted.

He loosened his hold around you but didn’t let go. His left hand was stationed over your hip and his eyes — of a lovely bluish color, so intense and unreadable — flickered to your womb.

You wanted to tell him…

You had to tell him…

But all you could do was stare at him stupidly as he spoke words you couldn’t understand. That didn’t make any sense.

“You never entered this room. You haven’t seen me tonight.”

Your lips trembled.

Yet… Even if your heart screamed at you — it knew it wasn’t the first time it happened, it is, that he made you forget what happened —, that it wasn’t right, your lips repeated his words as if they were the most natural thing you’ve ever spoken.

“You won’t remember me.”

What?

“No.”

You clawed at his hands. Starched them. With all your mighty. But it did nothing to him. He merely tightened his hold, cutting your breath short.

“You, (Y/N) (L/N), have never met Armitage Hux.”

No.

“You’ll leave the First Order and raise your child away from here.” His voice became deeper, somber… but it also became lower. You almost had to struggle to hear it. The hand pressing your windpipe fell to his side, but the other remained on your hip, keeping you on your feet.

“We’ve never met before,” he spoke slowly, as if his words hurt him too. Your heart was in pieces right now. “Repeat it.”

You shook your head.

No.

You didn’t know what he was doing to you — what he thought he was doing —, but all your memories — otherwise vivid and colorful — became gray and gradually vanished from your mind. In the back of your eyes, each scene, each moment of your life in it he took some role was… disappearing. You were there… Everything was still there, but something was… missing.

“Pl-Please.”

“Say it.”

“I don’t want to forget you.”

He seemed unfazed by your plea. Both of his hands moved to your hips, bringing you closer to him. You swallowed. And lifted your fingers to brush against his face — one last time… one last…

Your thoughts were interrupted by his lips on yours.

He kissed you.

Sweetly.

Shortly.

Tenderly.

Painfully.

“I love you,” you whispered against his lips when he broke apart. He pressed a small kiss against your sweaty temple in the gentlest of the caresses.

“You’ll leave.” His voice was back to his usual tone. Cold. Detached. “Tonight. Lieutenant Mitaka will help you.” He wetted his lips. “You won’t tell anyone, not even the father.”

Your heart broke at his words.

It’s yours.

You wanted to say.

You could have said…

You would say…

If you could recall him. If you could recall any memories of him… Of this man in front of you. Who was he?

The first tear ran down your cheek, followed by many others. They touched your lips — bitter and salty — and gathered at your chin.

“I will let him know and he’ll go to you when it’s safe.”

No.

It’s… Who was the father of your child?

He brushed your tears away, but as soon as he wiped one, several more took its place. You sobbed. And you didn’t even know why. How pathetic. You were sobbing and crying in a stranger’s arm and you didn’t even know the reason.

“You may leave.”

He pushed you gently towards the door, one hand on the small of your back. When you typed the passcode — you had no idea how you knew it, you just did — and the steely doors opened, you cast one last look at him.

You knew this man.

You knew his face.

You knew those bluish eyes.

You could never forget those intense orbs. Nor that remarkably ginger hair.

You forced your brain to think… to remember…

Nothing.

There was nothing. Everything was blank.

Your head hurt when you tried to remember him. Your heart hurt when you failed.

You even reached out… thought about touching his face — perhaps if you touched him, you’d remember? —, but lowered your hands. It was rude to touch someone you didn’t even know.

“Do you remember what I said?”

You nodded.

“Yes. Lieutenant Mitaka will help me. I must go to…”

He shook his head.

“I don’t want to know.”

It was your time to shake your head. You were so confused. If the First Order was so dangerous… If it was no longer a safe place, why wouldn’t he run away with you? Why would he stay? It made no sense. And why would this man want to keep you safe? Why would he care about you when didn’t even know him?

“Who are you?”

He took his time to reply, his fingers removed a strand of your hair and placed behind your ear. Subconsciously, you leaned against his touch, seeking more of his warmth.

“Someone that you hate.”

A/N - Well... That’s it. I hope you’ve liked it. Since I’m busy to come up with new chapters, this story is difficult to write and takes a lot from me, I’ll update the chapters I’ve posted on AO3 here every Wednesdays, on Thursdays I’ll post In the General’s Bed and on Fridays I’ll post Lie to Me.

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