#My limit right now seems to be about 2 hours

[incognit0slut]

The Last Laugh

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

Spencer is forced to share a room with his rival. This is part two of Lose Control but can be read as a standalone.

warnings: sexual tension, a lot of banter, female oral, edging, rough sex, unplanned creampie (is that a thing?) words: 5,3k a/n: someone requested a part two with a one-bedroom trope and since this is one of my favorite stories, I had to do it

...Thinkin' you're winnin' with all of your grinning but I got the last laugh...

"I'M NOT SLEEPING WITH REID."

The idea was absurd. Ridiculous. Insane. Out of all the people in her team, why was she paired up with him?

According to Garcia, the only choice she had to spend the night in this remote town was with the person she least wanted to engage with. Did Garcia not know how much she had been trying to avoid him? How much she had been attempting to act as if the mere proximity with him wasn't making her lose her mind?

"Why not?" Garcia asked, handing her a key. "He's not that bad of a roommate, well, if you overlook his tendency to share random facts in the middle of the night, then he's really not that bad."

"Do you not hear yourself?" She steadied her gaze to her friend. "You want me to share a room with the person I hate the most?"

Garcia rolled her eyes. "You guys really should stop with this nonsense. You're both grown adults."

"I'll treat him like an adult if he starts to act like one." Her eyes drifted toward the man of the hour, standing at the other end of this old-looking hotel that seemed too close to falling apart, engaged in conversation with Luke. She then glanced back at Garcia. "Why can't he share a room with Luke?"

"Because I'm sharing a room with Luke."

She shot Garcia an incredulous look. "You're rooming with Luke? Since when?"

"Since always. We're buddies, remember?" She cocked an eyebrow and Garcia sighed. "Don't look at me like that, we're just friends. Besides, you and Reid are the only ones left without a roommate. Consider this your opportunity for personal growth or whatever."

"Personal growth? More like a crash course in patience. And what's the deal with Reid anyway? Why does he always have to be the exception?"

Garcia leaned in, her tone conspiratorial. "Well, let's just say Luke and I enjoy our peace. Reid, on the other hand, is like a walking encyclopedia. I figured it's your turn to experience that charm up close."

She scowled, a mix of annoyance and resignation on her face. "Charm? That's a generous way to put it."

Garcia stared back with an air of nonchalance that only seemed to amplify her exasperation. "Look, it's only one night. What's the worst that could happen?"

She shot her friend a withering glance as if the absurdity of the situation needed no further clarification. "The worst is that I might end up committing another crime in this town before the night ends."

Garcia raised an eyebrow, her amusement evident. "You're exaggerating, Reid is harmless. Plus, all the other rooms are fully booked. Consider yourself lucky we even found a place to stay."

"Lucky is not the word I would use right now."

"Just try to survive the night without killing each other," Garcia chuckled, ignoring the glare shot towards her way. "Give him a chance."

Her incredulous stare intensified. "A chance? Garcia, the man tried to argue with me about the most efficient way to organize my desk. And you know what's ironic? His own desk is a complete mess."

Garcia sighed, her playful demeanor softening. "One night, Y/n, that's all I'm asking."

She pursed her lips together. She could go on about how bad it would be to share a room with him, but the thing was, it would raise questions she did not want to answer. There was a limit to how much her disdain could stop her from entertaining the idea, and her avoidance, she realized, was more than just mere hatred.

Annoyed that she couldn't do anything to escape the situation, she shot a disapproving glance at him, who was still engrossed in conversation with Luke. With a resigned shake of her head, she turned back to Garcia.

"Whatever." She sighed, begrudgingly accepting the key Garcia handed her. "But if he starts reciting facts about, I don't know, the history of dental floss or something, I'm blaming you."

Garcia laughed. "Fair enough." She shoved her shoulder playfully. "But who knows, maybe you'll discover he's not as bad as you think."

That was the problem. Spencer Reid, in her eyes, was starting to... change. And she hated that. Why was the man she had never bothered to befriend occupying her mind more than she wanted him to? Was it because she now knew what it felt like to have his body pressed against hers? What it felt like to have him grunt in pleasure right in her ear? Just because they had sex?

Nope. Nuh-huh. She wasn't going to think of him differently tonight—or ever, for that matter.

She gave Garcia one last glare before making her way across the creaky floorboards toward him. Noticing her presence coming close, Spencer looked up and a slight tension filled the air as his gaze locked with hers. She quickly shook her head.

"You're sleeping on the floor," she declared with a point of her finger when she reached him.

A small amused smile played on his lips. "We're sharing a room?"

"Unfortunately," she grumbled. She then focused her attention on Luke. "Do you want to switch roommates?"

Luke chuckled. "I'm afraid I'm stuck with Garcia. Besides," he patted Spencer on the shoulder, "Don't act like you're not eager to spend the night with him."

Her eyes went wide. "What is that supposed to mean?"

Luke simply shrugged with a mischievous glint in his eyes, and walked away, leavingher staring at Spencer with a mix of confusion and suspicion. "What did you tell him?"

Spencer frowned. "Nothing." He sighed when her stare didn't back down. "Nothing, I swear. Luke tends to have his own way of interpreting things."

She narrowed her eyes, not entirely convinced, but decided to let it go for the moment. She turned on her heels, not waiting for him as she walked to their destinated room. She felt his presence close behind her but kept her mouth closed.

Spencer, on the other hand, found the situation amusing. He really shouldn't find any entertainment in her visible annoyance towards him, but he did. He couldn't help but notice that despite being angry, she still looked unbelievably attractive. The scowl on her face, her pursed lips, her chest heaving in anger. He took a step closer.

"This must be hard for you," he commented.

"What is?" she shot back, maintaining her brisk pace.

"Staying the night with me when you've been avoiding me."

Her jaw tightened. "I haven't been avoiding you."

"Really? So you haven't gone out of your way to avoid looking in my direction ever since what happened?"

Her steps faltered for a moment, but she quickly regained her composure, refusing to show any vulnerability. "That doesn't mean I've been actively avoiding you. It just means I have better things to do than engage in pointless conversations."

Spencer raised an eyebrow, a knowing glint in his eyes. "Pointless conversations, or conversations you're trying to avoid?"

She shot him a sharp look but didn't respond. "You know," he began again. "You do seem to be acting differently ever since that day."

"I don't know what you're talking about."

Spencer couldn't resist a faint smile at her denial. "You really don't know what I'm referring to?"

She huffed, not giving him the satisfaction of a response. The narrow hallway seemed to amplify the unresolved tension between them as they stopped right in front of their room. She could feel his gaze on her, and it only fueled her annoyance.

She tried to ignore him by unlocking the door, but as she pushed it open, she felt his presence looming behind her. His proximity was so close that she held her breath as he gripped the edge of the door in front of her. His breath brushed her neck and her eyes involuntarily fluttered close when his other hand slowly rested on her waist.

"Should I help you jog your memory back?"

Her eyes shot open. She shoved him aside and stepped into the room. "No funny business, Reid. Keep your dick in your pants tonight."

His laughter lingered in the air as he followed her inside, closing the door behind him. "The question is," he taunted. "Can you keep it in my pants?"

She scoffed. Who was he and what did he do to the Spencer she once knew? The guy she remembered lacked any humor and always kept his distance from her. It was hard to believe a simple encounter—could you call sex as simple?—had turned him so crude, or maybe, she considered, this was his true self all along.

She decided to ignore his words as her eyes scanned the cramped room, containing only an old dresser, a nightstand, and a queen-sized bed, which she pointed at assertively. "That bed is mine."

His brow furrowed. "Why do I have to sleep on the floor?"

"You want me to sleep on the floor?" Her hand gracefully moved to her chest in a dramatic gasp. "Where is your chivalry, Dr. Reid?"

"We could share the bed."

She simply stared back at him, her eyes narrowing with a mix of disbelief and incredulity. Spencer, unable to resist stirring the pot, shot back with a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Come on, it won't be so bad. Did you know that the concept of sharing a bed has been a cultural practice for centuries? It symbolizes unity and—"

"Reid," she interrupted, shooting him a pointed look. "If you're trying to annoy me, you're doing an excellent job."

He grinned, clearly enjoying her irritation. "I'm just stating a fact. Sharing a room, sharing a bed—it's all deeply rooted in human history."

She sighed, rolling her eyes. "I highly doubt our situation is deeply rooted in anything other than poor hotel arrangements."

Spencer chuckled, undeterred, his laughter resonating in the dimly lit room as he took a step closer to her. The worn-out floor creaked beneath his feet, echoing the subtle tension that lingered in the confined space of the room. "You never know. We might be making history right now."

She shot him a skeptical look, her gaze unwavering. "I doubt historians will be interested in this disaster."

He raised an eyebrow. "Are you always this skeptical, or is it just reserved for me?"

"It's just reserved for annoying people," she retorted, not missing a beat. She took a deliberate step closer to him, the air thick with a blend of tension and... something else. Her heart quickened as his gaze swiftly swept over her lips before dragging back to her eyes.

"Really?" He closed the distance between them, and she held her ground, tilting her head back to meet his gaze due to his towering height. A subtle trace of his scent hung in the air, his presence enveloping her. She felt a sudden shift in the air, her senses heightened, and her eyes traced the contours of his face—the sharp angles of his jaw, the warmth reflected in his hazel eyes. She also could sense the initial surge of longing coursing through her body.

Shit.

"Believe it or not," he added, his voice a low murmur that resonated in the confined space. "I find your company quite fascinating."

"Fascinating?" She responded, but it came out more breathless than she had intended. She took a deep breath, trying to act as if his close proximity wasn't affecting her. Her pulse, however, betrayed her composure. And it was evident in her voice. "T- That's a stretch."

"Really?" His lips curved into a subtle smile, catching the shift in her demeanor. "I think there's a small part of you that's enjoying this."

"Enjoy what? Your random facts and annoying habits?"

Spencer leaned forward. A tension crackled between them, and it swam in his eyes and played on his lips. It pulled at her chest, making her heartbeat flutter in her throat, and to her surprise, he extended his hand, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. His touch left a searing sensation on her skin.

"Admit it, you're starting to see a different side of me."

She shook her head, refusing to acknowledge his point. "One night doesn't change anything."

"You're right." His hand made its way to the back of her neck, pulling her closer to him. "It can change everything."

Before she could register what he was doing, he closed the distance between them, holding her still as his lips crashed on hers. A thousand things flooded her mind all at once—each of them revolving around him. The way she melted into him felt oddly natural. The way his hands began to roam her body, the way her mouth opened for his tongue, the way her kisses became hungrier, also felt natural.

Which was bad. Really, really bad. This wasn't supposed to happen. One time, she could call it a mistake. But allowing him to have his way with her for the second time... there was no one to blame but herself. She should push him away and set the boundaries she was supposed to set the moment he invaded her personal space. But it was hard to think rationally when he tasted so good.

It was hard to stand her ground when his teeth softly nibbled her bottom lip. It was hard to think straight when she was already pulling hard at the locks at the base of his neck as his tongue explored her mouth, blindly walking her back until her back was pressing onto the wall.

"Look at you," he laughed against her lips. "You're not pushing me away."

"Shut up," she hissed, trying her best to keep her tone icy. But then again, it was hard to stay angry when he was touching her like this. His greedy hand traveled up her thighs, massaging the plush flesh. His fingers finally found the hem of her pants, and he swallowed her moan when they dipped underneath the material, slipping right underneath her panties.

Her breath hitched when two of his long fingers slide between her folds, spreading her slick before finding its rightful place on her clit. Spencer didn't hesitate when he started rubbing at her nub, smooth and deliberate, it made her toes curl and her body jumped in a moment of surprised bliss.

Her sound of pleasure was music to his ears, urging him to satisfy her even more. He was quick when those same fingers dipped inside her core, her inner walls tensing at the sudden yet pleasurable stretch. There was a distinct sound along her needy whines, wet and slapping as his palm makes contact with her clit every time he was knuckle-deep inside her. Her head fell back to the wall, mouth agape, face flushed—a sight Spencer secretly wanted to commit into his memory.

Without even noticing it, her hips started grinding to chase his fingers, desperate to reach that familiar pleasure twisting in her core. Her movement didn't go unnoticed by him, an amused, deep chuckle reverberating from his chest while he pulled his fingers out of her, rubbing her clit aggressively, knowing it would make her reach her high faster.

"You're going to cum, aren't you? This quick?" She glared at him through half-lidded eyes, not giving him an answer. His smile widened at her resistance. "Do you think I should let you?"

Her heart quickened its pace, knowing well enough what he was about to do. He was going to tease her, or as she liked to think, he was going to torture her by not giving her what she wanted. Her theory was proved right when he leaned down, his face inches away from hers, a sly smile on his lips.

"Beg me."

She quickly shook her head. A hand snaked up her back until it found the base of her skull. His fingers brushed through her strands before gripping hard, sending a jolt of pain down her spine as he yanked her head back.

"Beg me."

"Fuck you—ah!" A sudden pressure of his fingers sent pleasure shooting through her, pushing a moan from her that filled the room like a ringing bell—a bell that signaled the fact that despite how much she knew she shouldn't, she was already surrendering to his touch.

"No?" He taunted, his breath brushing against her ear. "Then I'm not letting you cum."

And just like that, the pleasure rippling through her body was ripped away.

He swiftly pulled his hand from under her pants with a smirk she wanted to wipe off before turning his back to her, leaving her all flustered. She took a moment to collect herself, her mind racing to grasp the situation. She loathed him. She really did. She despised the way he was so full of himself.

With a determined exhale, she shook off the flustered feeling that lingered. He may have momentarily unsettled her, but she was not one to let her guard down easily. She was not going to let him get under her skin. If he could make her sexually frustrated, then so could she.

If he was going to play dirty, she was going to get filthy.

Her shirt was the first thing that came off. Then she unbuttoned her pants, pulling them down over her legs. Dear god, she was going to regret this, wasn't she? But she couldn't stop. Not when the rustle of her clothes echoed in the quiet space and Spencer turned around, jaw slacked, a startled expression crossed his face as he watched her.

"W-What are you doing?"

There. That was what she wanted. That priceless, wide-eyed, disbelief face. She had to keep going.

"Taking matters into my own hands."

Her hand reached around to unclasp her bra before she intentionally took her time sliding the straps down her arms, enjoying the way his jaw clenched as you did. Eyes still focused on him, she tossed it to the side. Her hands lowered afterward, and an audible gasp escaped his lips as she slipped her fingers into the waistband of her underwear, sliding them down her legs.

"You're always so smug," she murmured, taking a step forward, closing the distance between them. "Thinking you have control of me."

Right hand reaching up, her fingertips just lightly swept the length of his stubbled chin, just below his lips. The corner of his mouth only drew up further at her touch. She smiled at his reaction, and her fingers dropped down to grip his chin firmly.

"But I can satisfy myself just fine."

And then she pulled away, the smirk now missing from his lips as she backed out of his reach. She then settled on the bed, and with her eyes never leaving him, she spread her legs wide open. She watched as a breathless sigh escaped his lips and smiled triumphantly, especially when the bulge growing in his dark pants was impossible to ignore.

With her gaze lingering on his steadily growing erection, she trailed her hand down her stomach, the tips of her fingers paused just over her clit. "What's wrong, Reid?" She hummed out, watching his chest heave. "You seem to be speechless."

Because he was, how could he not be when the pad of her middle finger slowly started to lightly circle over her clit. He watched as she teased herself, fingers gliding between her folds, gathering her arousal before slipping a finger inside. She gasped, the wet sound was audible even to her own ears as she gradually pumped her finger in and out.

He took a step closer, and her fingers moved faster as his eyes raked over her body—her luscious breasts fully exposed, legs spread apart, fingers between her thighs. A faint moan fell out of her, her eyes partially closing all the while her fingers never ceased their movement, vigorously thrusting into her cunt.

She then proceeded to put on a show for him, throwing her head back and rolling her hips. He was standing close to her now, eyes focused on her body, his tongue sliding along his lower lip. Her cunt immediately clenched at the sight of him, a bulge straining at the fabric of his pants. The sight sent a surge of warmth through her body, spreading from between her thighs to her cheeks as her fingers quickened in pace and her legs spread farther for him to see.

He was trying to hold himself, it was obvious in the way he held his composure. But then she watched with satisfaction as he stalked towards her, and just because she wanted to fluster him, she couldn't help herself from letting out a needy whine as she slipped her fingers out before rubbing her clit desperately, her eyes boring into his.

"Spencer," she moaned.

That was precisely when he lost it. He didn't even hesitate. He marched straight to her, and her finger stopped in its movement as she watched him settle between her legs, sinking to his knees. He wrapped his arms around her thighs and roughly yanked her over the edge of the mattress, and she fell on her back with a squeal.

"You're a goddamn tease, you know that?" He sneered, his warm breath brushing over her heat. "Fine, I'll let you win this time."

A gasp escaped her lips when he wasted no time leaning in, burying his head between her thighs. He wasted no time as she grabbed onto the sheets, feeling his tongue draw circles around her clit before flicking up and down at a rapid pace. Her thighs tighten around his head. and her whole body trembled beneath him, encouraging him to move his tongue faster.

His fingers dug into her thighs, holding them apart as he took his time. Ever so slowly he licked up her slit, gathering her juices on his tongue until he reached her clit, groaning every second of the way until she was shivering beneath his touch. She was breathless, mind buzzing and the room spinning as he thrust his tongue into her warmth, face becoming so deep between her thighs that heat rushed through her body.

When her thighs trembled and threatened to close, he made sure two heavy palms kept them open long enough for his tongue to drag deeper inside her. With a roll of his tongue, he was lapping at her walls, swallowing every drop until the second he heard her begin to whine.

It was embarrassing, letting him hear how worked up she was. But she couldn't help it, not when she was losing control of her mind and body. Her hips were starting to buck to meet his tongue. Her jaw slacked. Low moans spilled from her lips as he continued to ravish her, and her fingers dug into the sheets beneath her to hold onto her sanity as waves of pure overwhelming pleasure took hold of her.

"Oh my god," she whimpered, voice two octaves higher before growing silent. She was so, so close to the edge, his tongue relentlessly sucking her clit, licking, swirling over her entrance until her mind fell blank from the bliss. The heat began swelling from between her thighs, tension tightening and all she did was screw her eyes shut.

But seconds before the pleasure was nearly too much to bear, he suddenly pulled away.

"Reid!" She hissed, looking down between her legs. "You're fucking annoying."

He looked up at her with a teasing glint in his eyes, then his mouth parted a second before his tongue swiped over his lip to taste the remnants of her arousal. "What?"

Unbelievable. After pulling that stunt, he had the audacity to feign innocence. She huffed and opened her mouth to retort something but when he started to undress himself, she couldn't think of anything. Her mind was too busy taking in his slightly toned arms, his broad chest, his slim waist, and that patch of soft hair trailing down his stomach, disappearing underneath his pants.

And that was gone too, and now he was standing without any shred of clothing, and it then dawned on her that they were both very much naked. Their first time in that dusty storage room happened too fast that they didn't bother taking off their clothes, but now she had the time to sink in the way he looked wearing nothing but a smirk.

"I didn't bring a condom," he said as he climbed onto the bed. Like that was going to stop them, it didn't stop them before and it most definitely won't stop them now.

"It's fine," she mumbled just as he settled between her legs again, but when his eyes lit up at her words, she smacked his shoulder. "But you're still not finishing inside me."

He merely hummed a reply. Then seconds later he was lining up the tip of his cock with her entrance. His eyes meet hers as he teased her, and she noticed the smirk appear once again on his lips. She pushed her hips toward him, gripping his arm irritatedly, and released a breathy 'hurry up' before she could change her mind.

He wasted no more time pushing himself into her without warning, earning a gasp while he stretched her completely. He pressed his body into her, allowing her lips to collide with his and moan into the kiss when she felt him pull away just enough to slam back into her with one harsh thrust. His hands suddenly reached for her wrists, and he gripped them above her head, pushing them onto the mattress.

His eyes darkened as he looked down at her, and she quickly shut her own as he pumped himself into her cunt over and over again. His motions were aggressive, sloppy, and wild. The moment a particularly deep and brutal thrust hit her at the right spot was the moment she finally gave in to weakness as she let out a loud moan, her mind going blank to everything but the pleasure he was giving her.

Then he pulled back again, and his thick cock slid out of her partway, glistening with her juices, splitting her pussy apart around it before snapping forward, his hips going at a brutal pace, making her whole body bounce from the contact.

"God, you feel incredible," he groaned out just as she gasped from the intense pressure of him inside her, head falling above her, jaw slacked, sweat dripping down his temple. Her eyes fluttered open before exhaling a heavy breath, feeling him tightening his grip on her wrists. "We need to do this more often."

Though she didn't say it, she agreed with him. And it pained her to even consider making this a habit. But it was tempting. It was so tempting that the thought of having him inside her anytime and anywhere had her clenching around his cock, earning a low grunt deep within his chest.

Then something snapped inside her. She had started off holding back, keeping herself in check against the rising wave of sensations. But then, in a moment that felt like a long-awaited release, she decided finally to let go when he continued to hit that perfect spot inside her, and she almost felt ashamed at the noises she was making. She wasn't as vocal when she was alone, nor with other men, yet the man she claimed to hate earned every whimper, every desperate moan.

Hearing her cries urged Spencer even more. He leaned over to her and pushed himself deeper, earning a gasp from her as her legs fell apart even further, letting him sink himself as deep as he could. He pushed her hands above her head and hovered above her, letting his temple fall against hers as his hips rutted violently.

The pressure rose and the tension coiled in the pit of her stomach. Sweats beaded over her skin just the same as him, crying out for him, moans mixing with filthy noises of him thrusting into her wet cunt. His powerful thrusts then quickened, causing her to grow weak her body began to quiver in his grasp.

She cried out, wanting to warn him she was growing close to the edge, her mind growing numb, everything around her fading into black. But didn't give her the chance to speak before he pressed his mouth on hers in a heated kiss, all sloppy and wet and desperate, latching on her lips with so much fervor.

She felt him everywhere. On her lips, biting on her soft flesh. On her breasts, his chest rubbing against her hard nipples. And between her legs, his cock stretching her deliciously, a pleasant feeling that had her whining against his mouth.

But before she could whimper anything else, the pleasure erupted inside of her, red hot heat unraveling to every limb. Her release was a fiery blast—white-hot and overwhelming, turning her into the image of destruction. Her hair stuck to her skin, her back arching off the bed, feeling overwhelmed as his cock hit her deeper. She succumbed to the bliss, eyes shut tight, and her furrowed brow as she surrendered through her orgasm. 

He held her tighter, pumping himself into her as she finally let go, calling out his name in a breathless whimper. She came so hard her legs were shaking uncontrollably, but he didn't stop. He pounded into her harder, reveling in the way she fell apart for him.

"I-I'm close," he grunted. "Where... where do you want me to—"

"Inside."

He looked down at her, trying to hold himself to not combust right there and then. "Are you—" he groaned when she clenched around him. "Are you sure?"

She was already too deep in her climax that any worries faded away. It was like time slowed down, and all that mattered was the intense sensations taking over her body. It was wrong, but it was what she wanted. She wanted to be full of him.

"Yes. Please, just—please," she whispered. "Cum inside me."

It was enough for him to let go, chasing his own pleasure inside of her, hitting deep within her walls as her own arousal dripped out around him. The slick and messy noises mixed with his groans filled the room, heat continuing to rush to her face as her entire body became overly sensitive.

With one final, sharp inhale, the bliss took hold of him. His hips slowed as he began to release inside of her, filling her up with a few huffs and grunts, creating a bigger mess between her thighs. He thrust one last time as the last few drops spilled from him, continuing to press his body against hers as closely as possible.

Then everything went silent except the sound of their ragged breathing. He pulled out of her with a heavy sigh, just as spent as her, breathless beyond belief. He collapsed on the bed, his chest rising up and down as he tried to gain some sense of control, his mind trying to grasp on the euphoria that happened moments ago.

"Well that was—"

She quickly nodded beside him. "Yeah."

Spencer turned his head towards her, and she could already feel him gloating that before he had the chance to say anything, she covered his mouth with her hand. "Do not say anything."

His reply was muffled underneath her palm, and she didn't understand what he was trying to say. She didn't even bother wanting to listen to him anymore. So she got off the bed, wincing when she felt the mess dripping down her thighs as she walked over to the bathroom.

"Where are you going?"

"Taking a shower," she called out. "I feel... sticky."

She then heard some rustling and she turned to see him hopping off the bed, following behind her. She narrowed her eyes. "Where are you going?"

"I feel sticky too."

"Spencer."

His lips twitched into an amused smile. "You called me Spencer."

She groaned and turned around. "We're not showering together, Reid."

"Why not?" He pressed, following her behind. "I promise to be on my best behavior."

She looked at him, assessing the way he was practically begging with his eyes. She was pondering whether it was a good idea to spend more time with him in an enclosed space. Probably not, but considering all the filthy, nasty things they had done, sharing a shower seemed harmless. 

"Alright, fine," she caved in, letting out a sigh. "Just keep your hands to yourself."

He nodded eagerly, but she should've thought better when the spray of water finally hit their bodies and he closed in around her, burying his face in the crook of her neck as he held her waist. Then he pressed her against the cool tiles of the bathroom wall, and it was safe to say that he could not, as a matter of fact, keep his hands to himself.

Not that she was complaining.

.

a/n: I know this was supposed to be enemies to fuckable enemies but they're really starting to grow on me, they kinda cute

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[roseykat]

TITLE: Play Tight

PAIRINGS: Bang Chan x f!reader

SUMMARY: Reader and Chan divulge their ‘excuse’ as to why they couldn’t make it to hot pot and barbecue dinner with their friends.

WARNING: minors DNI with this post or my blog. I create NSFW SKZ related content and I know I won’t be able to regulate/monitor every potential interaction with those posts so please do not engage with me, my work, or page whatsoever.

TAGS: smut, porn with plot, swearing, multiple orgasms, squirting, overstimulation, unprotected sex, creampies, fwb, some pillow talk (ish)

PART 1 / PART 2 / PART 3

🏷️ LIST: @chillichillicrabcrab23 @broken-glowsticks @ihatemen55 @boi-bi-ahaha @galamxy @weareapackofstrays @anglerfishiey @elizalabs3 @fr34k4c1dr41n @stayconnecteed @imnotjjini0325 @twinklix @meilix @livsposts @dawn-iscozy @princejisung @valibals @oiikaro @im-sinking-in-mud @aalexyuuuhm @baby-yongbok @/leftkittenface @20minsat180degrees @itsthatbri (if you want to be removed or added to the tag list, please lmk!) ⭐️

A/N: if you don't know what a refractory period is it's essentially about the ability of most women to cum back to back or one after the other in a short span of time between one orgasm and the next. Therefore, if it seems as though I've written about reader having multiple orgasms within quick succession, that's because she is and Chan is making the most of it. Also I really pushed the time limit with uploading this part bc I spent the last few hours trying to get the fan club which took fucking ages...

Hot pot and barbecue with friends - now that sounded fun. 

You saw the group chat messages from earlier, and the plan to all meet up at half past six. Had you not orchestrated other arrangements, you would be sitting with them right now enjoying nice meals and chats. Instead, your body remains to be railed thoroughly, right into the bed that belongs to none other than Chan. The owner of very capable hands who had just finished fucking you on his couch earlier on. 

He too missed dinner with everyone for the same reason. Selfishly being, to get laid. 

Chan presented half of a lie to the group chat, saying that his family was back in the city - which was true, and that he was going to visit them, so he couldn’t make it - not true. You on the other hand conjured the only fib you could think of and told everyone that you were going to be working past six.

Both of you felt relatively guilty for ditching the dinner. However, it would’ve looked ten times more suspicious if the two of you suddenly changed your minds at the same time and decided to show up. 

But why would anyone suspect anything? Nobody knew Chan was rearranging your guts every other night. Or so you thought. That dirty, slutty little secret was only kept hushed between you and Chan. These past couple of months you’ve spent at each other's houses, tainting the very last remnants of innocence either of you had. 

You wouldn’t have realised it at first until you experienced it for yourself, but Chan is and can get really horny. Before him, there was no such thing as ‘hard-paced’ or ‘nasty’ sex. It was fairly vanilla, which there’s nothing wrong with from time to time. But at the minute, that wasn’t the cup of tea you fancied. No. It was something much dirtier and riveting, something that makes you feel like you’re very much alive. 

Chan was able to achieve that in less than half an hour after you both hooked up one time after a night out. Sure there might’ve been alcohol involved, except neither of you were drunk enough to completely forget what an amazing time you both had. So much so that you and Chan decided to hook up again. And again, and again, until it became a weekly event. 

In saying that, there were a few layers as to why you and Chan started seeing each other regularly. You needed the de-stressor from work that had been hounding you for months, and among other things, there is nothing like a good dick down to make just about make every worry in your mind disappear.

As for Chan’s situation, it wasn’t as light. Having been cheated on by his long term partner, Chan entered what you refer to as his ‘hoe phase’ to which he was rather embarrassed to learn that it’s something that people tend to go through when they’ve broken up with their significant other. 

Nonetheless, you and Chan unexpectedly found each other in a way friends wouldn’t typically, and it was only limited to that. No strings attached, still remain good friends, and the best mind blowing sex. 

“Fuck - yes, right there!”

Chan’s hips ram unforgivingly into you from behind. Creating godly, euphoric waves that ripple throughout your body each and every time he does. His fingernails clutch themselves into the soft flesh of your hips, allowing him to use that small bit of traction to pull your body back onto his cock or for him to thrust forward mercilessly. 

This was way better than dinner with friends. 

“W-Wait,” you reach behind to the side of your body, trying to tap his arm and prompt him to slow down so you could get your message across without having it fucked right out of you. “Ride…lemme ride you.” 

Chan swallows and nods, taking a short breather, “yeah, yeah okay.” 

Whilst you’ve learned a lot of things about Chan since you’ve started sleeping with him, he’s also learned some stuff about you. Like discovering throughout your secret sessions with him that you seem to cum the hardest when you’re riding him. He doesn’t entirely see the appeal of it since he doesn’t mind picking up all the slack just so you don’t have to do any of the work. At the same time, however, nothing feels as good as fucking his frustrations into you.

But he also doesn’t mind them getting fucked out of him. It easily added to one of the reasons why he found it so hot to watch you ride dick. 

As he gently slides his cock out of you, moving into the next position where he now gets to lie back against his pillows. He watches you straddle him first, then take his length in hand before aligning it with your hole. Slowly, you sink down onto his cock. 

The ‘o’ shape in your mouth enlarges when the entirety of his length vanishes inside you. He’s big. Something you can’t always grasp every time you sleep together. The silver lining in that however is that the foreplay is amazing. 

“Christ,” you breathe out, lifting your hips up and down a couple of times, groaning as the pleasure already built up from before starts re-taking its effect to its highest extent. “Fuck, make me feel so full.” 

“So you keep telling me,” he responds with a cocky grin as his hand reaches up to one of your tits and gropes ravenously. “But that’s what you like isn’t it? Having a big cock inside you, yeah?”

Your hand claps right on top of his, the other stabilises your body on his chest as you start riding at a pace comfortable enough to build some momentum. It doesn’t take long until every part of your body feels like warm flames are tickling your skin, leaving tingly traces in their wake. 

“Yes, love it so much,” you pant breathlessly. “Love it when it makes me cum.” 

Chan is glad to hear that. Then again, he knows. He’s fucked you long enough to know what you like, what you don’t, and what type of pleasure can turn your mind inside out. With that in mind, and one hand still groping you, he uses the other thumb to find your clit and rub generously. 

“F-Fuck, oh my god, don’t stop, don’t stop,” you plead in anguish as you start to feel your orgasm shift into sight. 

It’s right there. The utmost pleasure and ecstasy at its apex swells from the pit of your stomach, to your toes, all the way into the crevices of your brain. Every part of you - physically and mentally, just seems to melt into Chan. His cock, which feels like it was made for you to use like this, glides frictionlessly until his tip kisses your g-spot so lovingly. Each time it hits, Chan earns extra centimetres of long red scratches down his abdomen, marked up by your fingernails. 

“Cum,” he demands through gritted teeth. “Fucking cum all over me.”

Brainless and vacant as you were in trying to respond to him, your actions seemed to speak for themselves. As Chan continues to move his thumb consistently over your clit and you bounce yourself still on his cock, your eyes suddenly screw tight shut - shuddering before a surge of relief gushes from between your legs. 

Chan grins sickeningly. 

The untapped pleasure squeezes and strangles moans out of your throat, yet, in the few spare moments when you had come back down to earth, your stomach felt like it dropped at some point along the way. The minute you open your eyes, breathing hard and heavy, your attention catches on to the mess you’ve made. 

Most of Chan’s abdomen is soaked with your juices, his taut torso gleaming with your cum. Droplets of it roll down his side and seep into the sheets below him. From there, the humiliation is quick to ensue. Chan even sees the panic fill your eyes. 

“Oh! I’m so sorry,” you whine apologetically. “I don’t know what happened! I was - I was caught up in-“

Chan ceases your babbling by grabbing the undersides of your thighs and just about throws you on your back as he moves to top you. His sudden movements catch you off guard, wondering for a moment what he was doing until he started fucking you again. 

“Chris!” you cry out, latching around his back. 

His head buries into the crook of your neck, “wanna feel you do it again. Wanna see you drip down my cock.” 

At his words of request, you knew it was possible with the way that his dick hits deeper, pressing against those sensitive spots inside you that have been milked of pleasure. It’s not difficult to feel it building up again. There’s zero refractory period, allowing you to cum in an uninterrupted procession. At this stage, Chan could just whisper dirty things in your ear and have you become a squirting mess on his bed for him to watch. He wondered if that was actually possible. 

After watching and making you cum an extraordinary amount of times this evening, Chan was about to witness another, this time, mixed with his own release of pleasure. He can never ignore that dense pressure stacking up in his cock, like a blocked pipe that’s about to burst with the help of the tension from your contracting walls. 

One hand at a time, he places each beside your head to lift himself up while still trying to maintain a consistent pace. Then he coils back, grabbing the undersides of your thighs again and leaning some of his weight down so that he can press deeper. 

Tears are pricking your eyes - not from any pain but from pleasure you’ve never felt. It’s so intense and has nowhere in your body to escape that the longer you hold it in, the more explosive it’s going to feel. As your emotions exude the ferocity of another orgasm, Chan absorbs your expressions, giving him a very clear estimate of when you’re about to cum. 

“Gonna give me another one?” he asks even though you’re in no state of mind to give him a verbal answer. “Gonna be a good girl and get my dick wet one last time?” 

You shake your head but only because you’re unsure if you can actually take that pressure that’s about to blow. Regardless of how high he has built your orgasms for you, you always take them well. It has you sobbing - screaming and clutching onto his bedding as you whimper that you’re about to cum. Chan could only just hear you over the sound of his skin slapping against yours. 

“You can do it,” he reassures you. “You always do.” 

At that moment, as if he just flipped a switch inside you, Chan had you gushing in an instant. Your upper body contorts to the left and stiffens as he fucks you right through it, right until his own orgasm slaps him on cue. Grunts mixed with whimpers force their way out from the base of Chan’s throat. His cock uncontrollably spurts his hot white cum, coating liberal amounts on your walls with a few hard, deep thrusts. 

"Fuck, oh my god," he groans through gritted teeth, satisfaction seeping through into his blood.

He pulls back to sit on his heels, looking down as he grabs the base of his cock now slicker than usual with milky, almost transparent liquid rings of white. The fact that both of your juices have mixed together does something to a sick part of Chan’s brain. His lower half is still dripping with your cum, forcing you to shy away into the bunched up sheets when you realise you’ve made another mess on him. 

Too weak to speak up about it, Chan had no trouble reading the room and caught onto your emotions. He was right to assume that you were embarrassed for it but fuck if Chan could experience it all again, he would. That then strikes an idea as he massages your inner thighs with the palms of his hands. 

“That’s never happened before,” he comments with a little bit of surprise, making you turn with embarrassment, all the while trying to ease you back down from your high. “So fucking hot.” 

His thumbs rub into your wet skin, inching closer to your pussy. Before you know it, the backs of his fingertips are brushing over your hole where his cum is leaking out of you. Semi sticky strings of it attach onto him when he pulls away and goes back in to smother it all the way up to your clit. He thumbs softly over the sensitive bud, setting fire again to the muscles in your lower half. 

You shudder a little bit from the faint stimulation, and finally muster the energy to talk, “yeah…d-don’t know how. Usually it’s - mm, just cause’…maybe you were hitting the right spot.”

Chan doesn’t meet your eyes, and by the preoccupied look on his face, it was clear that he had another agenda as his thumb continued to rub mindlessly. Although, he did hear you as he smirked and shook his head. 

“Nah, that was all you,” his mouth falls open slightly as he stares down at where his fingers begin to disappear. 

“Chan…” 

“I reckon you could give me one more,” he predicts as he starts to finger you slowly. “Just one more.”

“Please, fuck...” You whine loudly throughout the room. “D-Don’t think I can…please.” 

Chan moves to the side of you just a little bit, placing his other hand on your lower belly to apply just a little bit of welcoming pressure while he ignores you, “yes you can pretty. Only one.”

His fingers curl deviously inside you, forcing an automatic bodily response for your eyes to roll to the back of your head and back to arch clean off the bed. As he strokes over the spongy area, your fists are clenching on the duvet. Your body is beyond sensitive and squirms uncontrollably at the faintest of his touch. 

“Chris!” You sob, tears now leaking down the sides of your face from the euphoria. 

This was the closest replica to being high. It’s like the pleasure picked up where it left off from the previous orgasm Chan brought to you and nearly doubled in intensity to the point where you thought for a moment that you were going to black out. But it hits you harder than before since his fingers have a bit more precision to find and hit your g-spot rather than making you feel fuller. 

“That’s my good girl,” he says encouragingly. 

There and then, as Chan detects the tell-tale signs that you’re about to cum, he finger fucks you at a generous pace that doesn’t let up on the time your insides have to try mitigate the pleasure. It goes into overdrive, sending a bunch of all the right signals straight to your brain. 

“C-Cum…cumming…I’m-”

Chan appreciates the fact that he’s reduced you from crying and screaming his name to a silent, overstimulated mess. Alternatively, you’re surrendering entirely to the ecstasy which sweeps you under like a current. Chan doesn’t need to hold you in place for you to take what he’s giving you with his fingers. He just gives and gives, and gives until for the third time, he has you squirting. 

“Oh yeah, look at that,” he grins excitedly, watching his palm and all the way up to his forearm become completely drenched in your juices. “What a good girl.”

By that point, Chan was successful in running your body dry. His pace slows down, now gently stroking inside you. Your quiet, strained moans die down, along with a reserve tank of energy you had left. You were limp and helpless, a gorgeous mess on the bed for him to admire. 

Chan slowly takes his fingers out, gently massaging around your sensitive pussy, “fuck, so good."

You turn onto your side, processing all of that. For a few moments before, it felt like you had had an out of body experience, and maybe you were. Everything was so consuming and powerful that for a second you didn’t feel like yourself. But that wasn’t a bad thing, nor did you think of it that way. It’s just a new experience that you welcomed, one that made you feel good multiple times. 

Chan hops off the bed and kneels beside you onto the floor as he strokes and pats your head, “you okay?”

You nod then go to sit up, “mm, just out of it. Give me a few minutes.” 

“You - you shouldn’t move so much, not now at least,” Chan warns, then quickly spots the uncomfortable expression on your face as you realise that everything beneath you is wet and sticky.

“Your duvet,” you say to him, looking down and around at all the large damp areas.

“What about it?” 

“Well it’s all ruined-” 

“They’re not ruined,” he says defiantly like a stubborn child, almost like he was offended you even made that sort of comment. “It looks…fucking hot.”

“Hot,” you repeated with an airy chuckle. 

“I didn’t know you could do that,” says Chan, bewildered. 

“Neither could I to be honest,” you agree wholeheartedly. “It was really…intense and...strange.” 

“Strange?” He retorts. 

“Not a bad ‘strange’, just something I’ve always heard of, but never managed to do with someone else before,” you reply. 

Chan smiles to himself, looking at his bed before that grin drops off his face, “never managed to do it with someone else before? As in, you’ve done it before, just…on your own?” 

You blink up at him, quickly changing the subject, “reckon the others are still out?” 

“I’d imagine so,” he says, still thinking about what you said previously. 

“Hot pot and barbecue sounded so nice too…” you trail off, eyes going in and out of focus. Your body is starting to catch up to you.

“Well, luckily we live in the era of food delivery, right?” He responds confidently. “Let me clean you up first, then we can hop in the shower. After that, I’ll order it in for us, sound good?” 

Sometimes when you’re with Chan, you forget that at the end of the day, he’s one of your good friends and still acts like it after you sleep with him. He knows when to be your fuck buddy and when to be your mate. None of it is awkward or weird and nor does he strive to make it that way. 

Potentially it’s because of his nature to be a gentleman inside the bedroom just as much as he is outside, hence why you had a considerate amount of gratitude towards him for not being an ass like some of the people you’ve hooked up with or seen casually in the past. But that could never be the two people you slept with a few weeks back. 

Not Hyunjin nor Jisung, whom you’ve thought about ever since that night at his apartment. Although it was truth or dare that led you all to the events that unfolded, you would’ve still slept with them anyway without the game. Just thinking about the two of them makes you miss them. Makes you miss the way that they touched you. 

It was a different feeling to how Chan normally touches you. With him, he’s a friend with benefits. Someone who can call you or you can call him whenever either of you need each other. As a result, there isn’t going to be anything fond or loving between the pair of you - which you’re more than happy with. You made that clear to Chan at the start that you weren’t looking to enter into a relationship with him at any stage if that’s what he was thinking. 

Thankfully, he wasn’t either. 

But when Hyunjin and Jisung touched you, it was surreal. Almost natural, like they were meant to feel you that way and only them. That was the difference between them and Chan, not that you were comparing them since you saw them in separate positive lights.

There was just something about those two that left a strong imprint on your brain, something you can’t scratch without them…

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#rosiewritesskz #stray kids smut #skz smut #bang chan smut #bang chan x reader

[hellodarling1357]

Drunk Words, Sober Thoughts? (Cassian x Reader) - Part 3

Hello hello!!! Part 3 is finalllyyyyy here, I’m so sorry for the wait. It’s a bit of a filler chapter but the next part should (hopefully) be up soon.

Here’s a link to part 1 and part 2 ✨

Enjoy and let me know what you think 🥰

Word Count: 2.3k

Your feet stumbled as you came to an abrupt halt, unable to tear your eyes away from the pair walking along the other side of the river.

The male you had let yourself believe you had a chance with, and the female, Evalina, who was clearly his perfect match.

Cassian and Evalina had been together almost two decades ago before their relationship was ripped to shreds by such a monumental fight that no one had dared asked Cassian what had caused it.

Although you had been concerned for Cassian during the fallout, you couldn’t help the guilt-ridden joy that coursed through you at the thought of Evalina no longer being around.

It seems, however, you were wrong.

Embarrassment washed over you as you realised this is what Cassian would’ve wanted to talk to you about this morning; he was drunk and didn’t know what he was saying and, oh, by the way, Evalina is back in the picture.

“Y/N?”

Mor pulled you from your thoughts, her eyes tracking over to see what had you stopping, causing her to let out a sigh as she wrapped an arm around your shoulder and forced you to keep moving.

“Come on. Let’s skip dinner and get you nice and drunk.”

You wouldn’t argue with that.

*****

“Hello ladies, welcome, welcome,” A handsome fae male greeted as you stepped inside the cozy wine bar. “How can I help you today? Table for two?”

You let Mor answer and guide you to your seat, too caught up in self pity to say anything to the male.

“Now,” He said with a clap of his hands and a dazzling smile. “My name is Bryn, owner of this establishment and your server for today. We are fairly new here and are missing a few shipments so our drinks list is somewhat limited, but I’ll do my best. What were you both after?”

Mor shot you a glance but you were preoccupied with looking out the window, torturing yourself by trying to catch a glance of where Cassian and Evalina might have gone.

“Just a bottle of wine please,” Another glance in your direction had Mor adding, “And two shots of vodka”

With a chuckle, Bryn took your menus and promised to be right back with your drinks.

“So,” You glanced back at Mor as she spoke, knowing your face was the picture of misery but unable to bring yourself to care. “Are you finally going to admit to me that you’re head over heels in love with Cassian, or do I have to keep pretending not to notice?”

You let out a groan and placed your head on the table.

A soft “ahem” caused you to jump up, cheeks flushing, as you realised Bryn had just arrived with two shot glasses.

You gave him a sheepish look and muttered a quick “thanks”, kicking Mor under the table as she laughed at you and your clearly broken heart.

Downing the shot, you glared back at Mor before reaching across the table and downing her shot as well.

“Hey!” Mor grumbled as you slammed the glass down.

Before you could respond, Bryn appeared again, bottle of clear liquid in hand.

“Looks like you might need this,” he said as he filled up both glasses again. “It’s on the house.”

Mor quickly grabbed her glass back before you could finish both of them off again.

With a sigh you pushed your now-empty shot glass towards the middle of the table.

“Is it really that obvious?”

“Yes.”

“Does Cassian know?” If he knew it would make the whole mess of a situation so much worse.

“I don’t know, Y/N. But I’m not sure if—“

You were hardly listening to what she was saying as you replayed the past 24 hours and the emotional roller coaster you had endured.

“I feel so stupid,” Mor stared back at you in silence, giving you a small smile that encouraged you to continue. “Last night, once we got back, we were just arguing back and forth, just about dumb things, and then he said…he was drunk, really drunk, but he said he loved me.”

Two wine glasses were placed in front of you and you graciously took a sip, unable to bring yourself to meet Mor’s eye.

“He said he loved me, and…I don’t know, I passed it off as him being drunk and just being him. But then, before he went to bed, he said it again, and the way he looked at me…,” You let out a heavy sigh before taking another sip of wine. “I just feel so stupid for letting myself think, hope, that it was real and that he actually meant it. But then this morning he wanted to talk, and now that Evalina is back in the picture…” You trailed off, still trying to piece your thoughts together.

Mor was silent for a moment as she turned over all you had said. It didn’t make any sense. She had seen you and Cassian together, the way you looked at one another, the joking and back-and-forth banter, the way both of your feelings were obvious to everyone except yourselves. But maybe she had been wrong…

“It might not be what you think it is,” Mor finally said. “Maybe just give yourself a couple of days, get some distance from him so you can sort out your own thoughts. Then we’ll work it out.”

Giving her a small smile, you nodded in response before changing the topic.

“Enough about me,” A sly smile spread across your face. “Will your friend from last night be joining us at Starfall this year?”

*****

You didn’t need to try too hard at avoiding Cassian over the next few days. Despite the upcoming celebrations, your workload remained never ending, allowing you only fleeting greetings as you crossed paths with one another.

As luck would have it, the week before Starfall, Rhys sent Cassian to Illyria to look into some rumoured wing clippings that had started springing up across some of the smaller camps. Although you missed him and worried about your friend whilst he was away, you found a sense of relief filling you as you were no longer having to hide away to avoid him.

You knew you would have to talk it out eventually, but for now you let yourself ignore the emotional turmoil and instead focused on the upcoming Starfall celebrations.

*****

You were just adding the finishing touches to your makeup when there was a knock on your door, followed by Mor letting herself in, not waiting for you to answer.

“Hello to you too.” You smiled at your friend in the mirror as you swiped some blush over your other cheek.

“Well aren’t you a sight for sore eyes.” She greeted as she passed you a generously filled glass of wine before setting herself down in one of the armchairs.

“Says you, you look absolutely stunning.” Mor just brushed off your compliment with a wave of her hand.

“Well go on, let’s see the dress. Everyone will be arriving soon.”

Taking a sip of wine, you walked over to your changing room, haphazardly throwing your silk robe onto the floor as you donned your Starfall dress.

Despite yourself, and the whirlwind the past two weeks had been, you couldn’t help but look forward to tonight. The distance from Cassian had helped you sort through your racing thoughts and allowed you to compose yourself enough to act as though nothing had changed.

Cassian had been delayed at one of the war camps and, according to Mor, had only returned to Velaris a few hours ago. Having been locked away with Rhys upon his return to go over his reports, and then with you spending the better part of the day bathing and getting yourself ready, you were yet to actually see him.

With a sigh you brushed out the skirt of your dress before grabbing your shoes and heading back out to the main part of your bedroom where Mor was waiting.

“I told you it was the perfect dress.” Mor squealed excitedly at the sight of you.

Grinning back at her, you quickly slid into your shoes before doing a final check over. You could feel your nerves start to flutter at the thought of seeing Cassian again, most likely with Evalina by his side if the other night was anything to go off.

With a final deep breath, you picked up your wine glass and turned to Mor.

“Ready?”

“Ready.”

*****

The echo of music and excited chatter flowed down the hallway as the two of you headed towards the crowd. A quick glance around the room told you Cassian was yet to join and you felt your tension somewhat ebbing away as you and Mor headed over to where Rhys, Azriel, and Amren stood.

You lost yourself in the music and just being able to enjoy the night with your friends, your worries from earlier were long gone, the multiple drinks you had consumed definitely playing a helpful factor.

Noticing everyone’s glasses were getting low, you excused yourself and headed towards the bar to get the next round.

Patiently waiting for a tray of five glasses, you leant against the wall and watched the party before you in a contented silence. You would be lying to yourself if you didn’t admit you were also keeping an eye out for a certain red-siphoned Illyrian who you had yet to spot.

“Well you’re definitely looking better compared to the last time I saw you.”

You startled at the fae male who suddenly appeared by your side.

“Hi…” You trailed off, giving him an apologetic smile. He definitely looked familiar but you couldn’t place where you had met.

“Bryn.” He laughed. “You and your friend visited my bar the other week. Though I don’t blame you for not remembering me, seemed like you had quite a bit on your mind.” He finished with a wink at your clearly embarrassed expression as you thought back to your sorry state that night.

“Bryn, of course. How are you? How’s business?”

Shooting you another grin, he excitedly said, “Oh, it’s really great. Been pretty busy so that’s keeping me busy, but I do love it. We have a similar establishment in the Dawn Court but my partner is originally from here so we decided it was time to move back. Actually…would you excuse me? I believe one of the guests over there dabbles in the selling of fine wines…”

You blinked in response to his faced paced chatter and his sudden retreating figure, shaking your head a bit with a chuckle at what felt like the conversation equivalent of whiplash.

“Miss…” A voice called out, “Your drinks.”

Turning back to the bar, you hurried over for the tray, offering a gracious smile before heading into the throng of people to where your friends stood.

“Well you took your time, did someone catch your eye?” You rolled your eyes at Mor’s teasing as the others chuckled and thanked you for the drinks.

“Actually,” you started, giving Mor a dismissive look when she excitedly perked up. “Bryn, the owner of that new bar we went to the other week, is here, he was just telling me how it was all going. Here, someone hold this, I’m just going to take the tray back.”

You handed your glass off to Azriel before weaving your way back towards the bar. You waved at Bryn as you passed, who was now animatedly talking to who you assumed was the wine seller.

Movement behind you and the sudden call of your name had you looking around, your heart dropping as you were suddenly stood in front of Cassian and Evalina.

You gaped for a moment before quickly collecting yourself and plastering on a smile.

“Hi,” You greeted, hoping your voice didn’t sound as shaky as you felt. “You’re back.”

Cassian gave you a soft smile, opening his mouth to say something but Evalina cut in.

“Y/N, it’s so good to see you. Cauldron, it’s been too long, hasn’t it?” You stiffened as she locked her arm around Cassian’s, a smirk gracing her features. “Can you believe that I’ve finally found my mate?”

And there it was.

You felt the blood rush to your head, the surrounding sounds of the party becoming a distant murmur as your body tensed and eyes went wide.

Her mate. Cassian was her mate, and she was his, and…

“Y/N? Are you alright?” Cassian’s concerned voice had everything rushing back into focus.

You blinked up at him, cursing yourself for the burning sensation as tears welled in your eyes.

You didn’t know what to say, you should be happy for him, for them. But you couldn’t muster the energy to pretend anymore, not as you felt your heart break into a million little pieces.

Ignoring Cassian’s question and the bewilderment on Evalina’s face, you turned on the spot and walked away.

*****

Sorry… 👀

#cassian x reader #cassian acotar #rhysand x reader #azriel x reader #cassian x y/n #cassian x you #cassian imagine #acotar #acofas #acomaf #acosf #acowar #rhys acotar #rhysand acotar #azriel acotar #morrigan acotar #amren acotar #marley writes

[urfavoritewriter]

College Group Project - Part 2

Content: College Vore, Male Pred, Male Prey, Muscled Pred, Nerd Prey, Fatal Digestion, Unwilling Prey. Second part is about the hours-long digestion. Read the first part HERE.

Likes and Reblogs are very appreciated!

Max, still revelling in the euphoria of the moment, shifted his weight and tried to adjust to the new heaviness in his gut. Eli was no longer beside him, but rather, an unmistakable presence within him. The room seemed to have grown smaller in contrast to the impressive bulge protruding from Max's midsection. The silhouette of Eli's curled body was clearly visible through the taut fabric of Max’s shirt, his form outlined in the smooth curve of the stomach.

Max grunted slightly as he moved toward his desk. Sitting down wasn't as simple as it used to be. The chair creaked under the additional weight. With Eli inside, he had to spread his legs apart to accommodate the swollen belly, leaning slightly back to balance the shift in his center of gravity. He rested one hand atop the bulge, the other supporting him from behind, fingers splayed across the chair's backrest.

"Feeling snug in there, Eli?" Max chuckled, the vibrations of his voice coursing through his stomach, a tantalizing reminder to Eli of his predicament. "I must say, you add quite the weight. Didn't realize you were this… dense."

From the confines of Max's stomach, Eli could feel every movement, every breath his captor took. The walls of the gut squeezed and massaged him rhythmically, making any hope of shifting or adjusting himself futile.

Max's shirt, which was once loose-fitting, now seemed stretched to its limits. The fabric clung to the swell of his stomach, the seams appearing as though they might give way. There was a pronounced tightness around his midsection, the pressure from Eli's form making the belt on Max's jeans dig into his waist. The button looked like it might pop off any second.

"You know," Max began, running his fingers over the taut surface of his belly, tracing Eli's form, "I can't help but wonder how you're feeling right now. Completely surrounded, enveloped, unable to escape. It’s a bit poetic, don’t you think?"

He leaned forward slightly, the movement causing a tighter constriction within, making Eli all the more aware of his helplessness. "I hope you're comfortable," Max teased, "because you're going to be in there for a while.

With each futile squirm and shift from Eli, Max's belly rippled and shuddered. From within, Eli could feel the constant clenching of Max’s stomach muscles, making his enclosed space even more restricted with each passing moment.

“Ooh, a little fighter, aren’t we?” Max grinned, feeling the movements from within. “You know, all that struggling is only going to help me. It’s like you’re stirring yourself up, getting ready for digestion.” He chuckled, a dark gleam in his eye.

Max adjusted in his seat, the added weight and movement from inside causing him to shift uncomfortably. Every twitch and push Eli made had an effect. The tight confines meant that each prod was easily felt against the walls of Max's stomach. As he tried to find a comfortable seated position, he leaned back, spreading his legs wider to make room for the pronounced bulge. His jeans strained, the material digging into his thighs.

Reaching down, Max began to massage his belly, his strong fingers pressing into the contours of Eli's form. Despite the distension, the faint outline of Max's abs could still be seen, a testament to the hours spent in the gym. His fingers traced each of the muscles, emphasizing his control over the situation.

The pressure increased as Max began to squeeze deliberately, compressing Eli even further within the confines of his stomach. The sensation was intense, each squeeze forcing Eli to feel the powerful grip of Max’s innards. “Feeling the burn yet?” Max taunted. “My muscles aren’t just for show, you know.”

Eli’s muffled protests and desperate pushes against his fleshy prison were met with increasing amusement from Max. But as the minutes ticked by, and the initial thrill started to wane, Max’s attention shifted back to the task at hand.

“You know, Eli,” Max began, his voice dripping with sarcasm, “I invited you here to work on the project. And if you keep up this ruckus, it's going to be quite hard for me to concentrate.” He smirked, tapping lightly on his belly. “So, how about you settle down in there, huh? Give it a rest. Because either way, I have a project to finish.”

In the first hour, Max settled into a rhythm. The open tabs on his computer displayed articles, research, and data graphs. He found himself deeply engrossed, typing away as ideas began to flow. But every so often, he would feel a faint thud or a twist from within, reminding him of Eli's presence. At one point, he felt a particularly strong wriggle, which caused him to pause and chuckle. “Still trying to make your opinion heard, huh, Eli? Well, keep it down; I'm actually trying to work here.” With a smirk, he took a moment to stretch, his fingers lightly brushing against the top of the rounded bulge. The sensation seemed to still Eli, if only for a moment, before Max returned his focus to the project.

By the second hour, Max's stomach had grown noticeably quieter. The acids and enzymes were doing their job, slowly breaking down the intruder. Every now and then, however, Max would still feel a feeble movement. It seemed as though Eli, despite the odds, was holding on. Not that it bothered Max much. In fact, he took a certain pleasure in it. "You really are determined, aren't you?" he mused aloud, feeling a weak, fluttering push from inside. "But trust me, Eli, by the time I’m done with this project, there won't be much left of you to protest." He said it lightly, a hint of jest in his voice, but the dark undertone was evident.

As the third hour neared its end, Max's progress on the project was evident. Pages of notes, diagrams, and written content filled his screen. His concentration was occasionally broken by the slight gurgling sounds emanating from his midsection. The digestion process was in full swing. Eli's movements had dwindled to almost nothing, the occasional twitch reminding Max of his slowly dissolving passenger. "You know," he murmured, a hint of nostalgia in his voice, "I almost missed our little back-and-forths, Eli. But I have to admit, you've been a… productive motivator." He leaned back, taking a moment to glance down at the now slightly less pronounced bulge. With a sly grin, he added, "By tomorrow, thanks to you, I'll have a completed project and some added muscle definition. Not a bad trade, if you ask me."

The room was filled with the soft hum of Max's computer and the occasional rustle of papers. But as the fourth hour began, another sound began to join the symphony—a desperate, frantic movement emanating from Max's gut. Eli, it seemed, was rallying his remaining strength, making one final, desperate bid for freedom. Each squirm, each attempt to push and stretch against the fleshy walls, only served to make Max more aware of the life within him.

"Back with a vengeance, are we?" Max quipped, feeling the surge of activity. He momentarily paused his work, resting both hands atop his belly, feeling the contours shift beneath his fingers. The rhythm of Eli's movements, previously weak and intermittent, now came in waves of intensity. "You've got spirit, Eli, I'll give you that." Max mused, the corner of his mouth turning up in a smirk. But the smirk faded as a particularly strong jolt from Eli took him by surprise. It seemed Eli wasn't quite ready to give up.

By the fifth hour, Max felt a mix of amusement and mild annoyance. He had to adjust his seating position more frequently, sometimes leaning back to counterbalance the vigorous activity inside. He could feel every twist and turn Eli made, every push against his stomach walls. The sensation was… intense. More than once, he found himself pausing, taking a deep breath to collect himself. "You do realize," Max drawled, addressing his midsection, "that this is all in vain? But I do admire your tenacity. It's almost… commendable."

As the clock struck the end of the sixth hour, the once intense and frantic movements began to wane. Eli's energy was diminishing, the acids and the unyielding pressure of Max's stomach taking their toll. The once sharp jabs became mere flutters, then eventually, mere twitches. Max, sensing the decline, leaned forward, his ear almost touching his belly, listening intently. "Almost done there, Eli?" he whispered, his voice a mix of mockery and genuine curiosity. But all he got in response was a soft, almost imperceptible movement.

With a sigh of both relief and satisfaction, Max settled back into his chair. "You gave it a good run," he murmured, his fingers lightly drumming on his belly, "but now, it's time to finish what we started." As he returned to his project, Eli's once-vibrant presence faded, leaving behind only the slow, methodical work of digestion.

As the ninth hour approached, the room was cast in the soft glow of the laptop screen, accompanied by the rhythmic tap-tap of Max’s fingers on the keyboard. He leaned back, stretching his arms above his head, a satisfied smile playing on his lips. The project, which had consumed so much of his time and focus, was finally complete.

Closing his laptop, Max glanced down, taking a moment to admire the swollen belly that protruded from his frame. The gentle rise and fall as he breathed was punctuated only by the subtle gurgle of digestion at work. “Looks like I’ve finished on time, Eli,” he mused, giving his belly a gentle pat. "Thanks for the… motivation."

Standing up, Max moved over to the full-length mirror hanging on the door. Turning sideways, he assessed the pronounced bulge critically. “I guess I’ll be carrying you around for a few more days,” he murmured, poking the soft mound. “Maybe I’ll just tell everyone I’ve been indulging in a bit too much beer lately.”

Chuckles filled the room as he imagined the looks and comments he'd get from friends and acquaintances. "A beer belly, or rather an Eli-belly," he smirked, appreciating his own joke. "Either way, I guess we'll be spending a bit more time together."

With one last glance at the mirror, Max powered down his laptop.

#digestion #male pred #male prey #male vore #muscle pred #muscled pred #hunk #lean prey #nerd prey #betrayal #painful digestion #fatal digestion

[astronomoney]

bookends, bestfriends, deadends

Pairing + WC: Jason Grace x reader, 1.6k Warnings: slow burn, once again and as always with my love Jason this is NOT canon-compliant, Jason may be a tiny bit ooc but I tired Summary: In the months between saving Hera and setting sail for New Rome, Jason finds himself making a friend Authors note: ok, y’all, here’s the deal; I took a nap and woke up with an idea, so I started writing; then I realized I needed set up, so I wrote this. Now I have a full fic that doesn’t include my original idea, so I will have to make pt: 2, but at least it’s already almost all the way written

Camp was far too busy this year; even for the off-season, it felt like there were campers everywhere. With all the bustle, it was hard to find a moment of peace. That’s why you’d taken to the woods that day. Following the path you’d walked a million times to a little outcrop of ruins not far from the beach, deep enough to not be disturbed. You’d taken a thick blanket and draped it over a vaguely couch-shaped block of stone ages ago to use as a reading nook. It was calm and peaceful and empty, usually.

This time, when you got close enough to see your little piece of peace, there was already someone there. A blonde boy with a scar on his lip sitting on your faux couch and squinting at the book in his hand. Jason Grace. Of course, you knew who he was, everyone knew of him and Piper and Leo, all working to get ready for the next great prophecy. 

Sneaking up on a former Roman soldier didn’t seem like the best plan, so you’d spoken out. “Guess this place isn’t so secret after all,” geez, what an opener.

Jason looked up with a start and got to his feet before you could say anything else. “Hi, hey, sorry, is this your spot? I wasn’t sure who’s it was, so I stayed to read some. I can go.” 

“Oh no, please, you don’t have to,” you were quick to put up your hands and stop him from leaving. You two hadn’t necessarily talked before, but he had always seemed nice at meals and campfires, if not a little awkward. “You were here first. I can leave if you want to be alone.”

Jason paused, it seemed he was actually taking you in now, noticing the book in your hand, Don Quixote as opposed to the copy of War and Peace he held. “I don’t mind company,” he offered you a small nervous smile, it was so pure you had to just stare at it for a second before responding. 

“Neither would I,” you finally said, returning the smile. You walked over and sat down tucking your legs under you and leaving plenty of room for Jason to sit on the other side. 

He joined and read next to you for what felt like both hours and minutes. Two days later, you had beaten him there, so when he arrived, you smiled and scooted to the left, giving him room again on your right. Over the next month, you crossed paths at the ruins what must have been a dozen times. There was never much conversation; it was more of a silent agreement to enjoy each other’s company, and each day, the distance between your shoulders seemed to get ever so slightly smaller. 

After a while, you got comfortable being directly next to him. Your shoulders would brush each time Jason moved to turn the page, and you couldn't help but notice how warm and strong he was. Silent meetings became small discussions about your current read, which turned into talks about other books you’d recommend to each other, which eventually morphed into a solid friendship. You would invite him to eat with your cabin since he had no one else at his. He would update you on the progress of the ship and the quest, you even got to know the other campers involved. 

Over the next few months, your lives became completely intertwined. You spent most of your day with each other. You watched him train for the quest, pushing his limits in sparring sessions until he was too exhausted to do much of anything. You would drag him out to your spot in the woods on days when he’d gotten so focused he had to be forced to take a break. You’d even tried to help him get some memories back. He would eat with you, read with you, help you with whatever chores you had around camp, anything to spend more time with together. 

He was the first person you turned to when you had something to say. He was the only one who remembered which campfire songs were your favorites or which books you’d reread depending on your mood. You cared about him so deeply, and you weren’t even sure how you’d come to feel so much in so little time. You truly hadn’t realized how much you needed him around you until you thought about just how soon he’d be leaving.

Of course, he would go back to Camp Jupiter; you knew that. This was never meant to be permanent; you were sure he missed his old life, his old friends, his old home. But part of you, somewhere in the deepest, most selfish part of your heart, wanted him to stay. You wanted him to forget about Rome, and Jupiter, and the quest. You wanted him to stay here with the strawberry fields and the books and the beach and with you. You wanted him to forget his sense of duty to a place that never cared and stay with someone who would give their whole heart away just to see him be happy for a moment longer. It was a feeling that filled you with guilt every time it crossed your mind.

It had occupied your thoughts nearly the entire day when Jason came to your cabin that evening. He knocked on the door until one of your siblings answered, and they called you over, muttering something about stupid and lovesick and so annoying that you hadn’t totally caught. 

You stepped onto the porch and closed the cabin door, leaving Jason and you alone in the dim light of the setting son. He was handsome as ever, a fact that you had resolved not to dwell on; plenty of people found their closest friends to be stunningly beautiful, it wasn’t a big deal. 

In fact, it was totally normal for someone to notice exactly when their best friend had skipped their usual haircut and started letting the military style grow or how their eyes exploded with color when the sun hit them just right. And, of course, there was no deeper reason for why you would pick up on every scrape or bruise he’d gotten from training. You were just hyper-observant, never mind that it only applied to one person.

As you took him in, scanning for the weariness you so often saw and he so often dismissed, you noticed more than anything how nervous he was. “What’s up?”

“Hey, um, I just wanted to, well.” He took a deep breath and let his words spill out a mile a minute. He told you that the Argo II would be ready to fly any day now. He told you how they were going to find Percy and how the first place they were going to check was New Rome. He brought up his old life, a life he wanted to remember, a life he thought he would remember when he got back there. These were all things you’d know and that filled you with dread, but you let him talk without interrupting. His rambling soon turned to a topic you haven’t expected, it turned to you. He told you how important you were to him, how much you’d helped him adjust to life at camp, and how much he appreciated everything you’d done for him. 

As he went on and on, you felt your heart begin to pound. The way he was talking lit a spark inside your gut, and the borderline desperation in his voice made you dare to hope. The emotion in his eyes made you think maybe, just maybe, he felt the same kind of connection that you felt with him. You could tell it was going somewhere important, somewhere that made him nervous and hopefully at the exact same time.

“I guess I just realized while we were planning in the bunker,” he began to close in on his point. “How important you are to me, and I can’t imagine what it’d be like without you. You can say no of course, it’s a lot to ask of anyone but,” he took another breath. “Do you want to come with me to New Rome?”

That wasn’t exactly what you were expecting. The funny feeling in your gut shifted and morphed, flashing through disappointment for a brief moment. As Jason waited for an answer, you had to process exactly what he’d asked. Going back to New Rome meant he was going back to his old life, a fact you were all too aware of, but now, maybe you didn’t have to lose him to it. He still wanted you by his side. He still wanted you to be a part of his life.

“Yes,” you finally replied. “Yes, of course, I’ll go,” you watch the relief wash over him, his nerves visibly dispersing as one of the widest smiles you’d ever seen etched itself across his face. 

In the next moment, he wrapped his arms around you. It was a bone-crushing hug that squeezed the air from your lungs, and you wrapped your own arms around him as tightly as you could. “You have no idea how happy that makes me,” he whispered to you as you tried to stop your heart from exploding. This wasn’t how you wanted it, but at least for now, this would be enough.

≻───── ⋆✩⋆ ─────≺

There's pt1 :) part two is almost done already because I wrote most of it before I even started all this, but what I can say, the keyboard got away from me. let me know if any of y'all want to be tagged in pt2 or in my general Jason taglist.

#jason grace x reader #percy jackson #writing fanfic #writing fanfiction #jason grace #jason grace x y/n #percy jackson x reader #pjo x reader #x reader #pjo x you #pjo hoo #hoo x reader #pjo hoo toa #heroes of olympus #heros of olympus x reader

[waywardxwords]

The Fix - Part 2

Summary: Everyone has a past, but yours seemed to haunt you. You've tried to move forward with a normal life, but the day comes when that's not possible anymore. When Sheriff Beau Arlen enters your life, you're certain he is going to judge you just like everyone else in town does. But something about Beau is different.

Warnings: Child abduction, brief mention of domestic violence, language

Word Count: ~2.8k

Beau had met you at the entryway of the elementary school within minutes, concern etched across his face in the way of worry lines that likely matched yours. 

“You alright, darlin’?” He asked gently as he approached with a tentative hand on your shoulder blade. 

Under the weight of his hand, you felt the ultimate collapse. Everything tumbled out of you in a way you didn’t expect (nor did he, by the look on his face). But either way, he used that hand to pull you flush against his chest and wrapped his other arm around your waist. He held you as you sobbed into the lapel of his brown jacket. The material was cool from the bitter wind just outside the door. 

“It’s gonna be alright,” he coaxed softly with his mouth close to your ear. “We’re gonna get her back.” You tried to nod and speak, but only shaky breaths came out. Beau pulled you to his side and stepped forward towards one of the agents. “Beau Arlen, Sheriff,” he put his hand out to greet the agent. 

“Matt Donahue with the FBI,” the man shook his hand. 

“What can you tell me?” Beau asked. He refused to break eye contact with the agent as he asserted his position of caring for the people in this town. 

Matt’s gaze moved back over you—your tear-stained and reddened cheeks, disheveled hair. He knew you wanted answers, but he also knew he couldn’t provide any right now. “Sheriff, as you know, the case of Jackson Lyle is ongoing. There’s nothing I can share right now.”

“I understand the Lyle case is off limits,” Beau spoke confidently. “But now, a five-year-old girl is missing. That changes things. Where are you at with a search party? An Amber Alert go out yet? At this point, Montana, South Dakota, North Dakota, Wyoming and Idaho should all be on alert. Have you talked to border patrol? He could be headed to Canada, for all we know.” 

“Sheriff, we are handling it,” the agent tried to assure. Something told you Beau didn’t trust the agents anymore than you did. 

“Then why the hell haven’t I seen an Amber Alert? As you know, agent—the first twenty-four hours are crucial. The decisions made now could make or break this,” he lowered his voice but you still heard him. 

“We are working on it, you have my word,” Matt sighed. 

“Your word doesn’t mean a whole lot ‘round this town,” he said firmly. “With all due respect, of course.” He added with a smirk that didn’t quite reach his eyes. He didn’t stick around to go back and forth any longer. He turned to you and wrapped his arm back around your waist again as he led you to the door. “Let’s go.”

“Where are we going?” You stumbled over your words but didn’t fight him as you braced yourself for the cold. The air practically took away whatever breath you had left. His grip tightened as you walked towards his truck. 

“We’re goin’ to the station. I have a plan,” his words were firm and his gaze didn’t waver from his truck. Your head whipped to look at him as he guided you. 

“Beau, they said to leave it be,” you didn’t know what the right answer was, and while you didn’t agree with leaving it alone, you also didn’t want to be in any trouble with the FBI. 

“Yeah, well, I say I’m the Sheriff and I can do as I please,” he opened the passenger door of his truck for you to step in. 

“My car’s here,” you thumbed to the parking lot where your truck was still parked. 

“I’ll have a deputy come by and pick it up,” he waved it off as he closed the door and headed to the driver’s side. 

You took a shaky breath. As he pulled open the driver’s side door, you stared blankly straight ahead out the windshield. Every bit of you felt numb, completely wrecked by the events that had taken place. 

“We’re gonna get her,” you realized Beau had been staring at you. 

“How? You heard the agent, they’re running this show,” to say you felt defeated would be an understatement. 

Beau slipped the key into the ignition and turned. As he pulled out of the parking space, his words were clear. “I’m doin’ a press conference,” he said firmly. 

This wasn’t the first time you had found yourself in the local police department, but this was by far the worst. A steaming cup of coffee had been set in front of you, but you didn’t feel like drinking it. You blinked as your eyes focused on the opposite white wall in the tiny interrogation room. 

The door opened, but you didn’t bother fixing your gaze. It wasn’t until he stepped into view and pulled up a chair that you adjusted your eyes. 

“I know you’ve been through this a hundred times,” he started slowly with a sigh. “But I need you to tell me what she was wearing today, and any descriptions. If you have a recent picture, that would be great.” Beau’s words were gentle—more gentle than you’d heard them before. Even though it was always clear Beau felt bad about your circumstances, this seemed different. 

“Do you have any children?” The words fell from your lips with little emotion, but there was a reason you asked and Beau knew that. 

“I do. A daughter,” he cleared his throat. “And I know if I were sittin’ where you are, I’d be absolutely lost. Hell, I’ve been there before.” 

Your eyes bolted to reach his gaze. “She went missing?” There was hope in your words as you realized she must have been found. 

“Sure did,” he nodded. “And we got her back. Just like we’re gonna get Bailey back, you hear me?” He seemed hesitant for the first time that day as he reached out and held your hand in his across the table. “I’m going to get her back.” He said firmly. 

You nodded once and broke eye contact. As you pushed the tears out of your eyes, you spoke. “She’s 43 inches tall. About 39 pounds. She had on denim jeans, with a daisy patch sewn on the pocket. A white daisy, with some green petals,” you closed your eyes as you pictured it. “Bluey sneakers…”

“Sorry, Bluey?” He asked, confused. 

You smiled through the pain of the moment. “It’s a cartoon. A little blue dog,” you continued. “She had on a long-sleeve pink t-shirt, I think it says ‘GAP’ on it in a darker pink. And a lavender puffy coat. I braided her hair today—one braid down the back.” You looked back at him to make sure he had captured it all. 

“You did good, sweetheart. You got a recent picture?” He asked. 

“Of course,” you fumbled through your phone and found a picture you had taken just the night before. Your heart nearly crumbled at the memory of playing hide and seek just after dinner. You handed your iPhone over to him and nibbled on your bottom lip. 

“I’m gonna send this to myself, alright?” You nodded at his question. “Jackson hasn’t tried to reach out to you, right? No family members? Anything?”

You shook your head ‘no’. “It’s been radio silence. I called the last number I have for him but it’s disconnected. I’ve tried his mom, sister, best friend…most didn’t answer, but his mom says she hasn’t heard from him.”

He nodded his head as he sent himself the photo of Bailey. “Alright, thanks for hanging with me, darlin’,” he gave your hand one last squeeze before he slid your phone back to you. Even in the haze of everything happening around you, your body couldn’t deny the feeling of warmth that simple squeeze cascaded through your veins. 

“Now what?” You murmured as he stood from his seat. 

“Now,” he started as he glanced at the door to the interrogation room. “I’m about to piss off the FBI and do a press conference.” He gave you a small smile. 

Beau had decided not to include you in the press conference, even though it was a fairly common practice to showcase the family members. He had said it was too dangerous, but he also didn’t want you in any trouble with the FBI. “I’ll take the fall, don’t you worry,” he had said to you as he headed for the front of the Sheriff’s office. “What’re they gonna do, fire me?” He had almost chuckled, but you didn’t know if that was a possibility. You couldn’t imagine Beau would actually risk his career for this—for you, the ex-wife of a con man he had been trying to hunt down for the last three months—but then again, you didn’t know Beau Arlen. 

You watched from the confines of Beau’s office where he had set you up with a television dialed in on the local news. 

He stepped up to the podium and looked as confident as ever. “Now we have Sheriff Beau Arlen with an important press conference,” the news anchor stated. “Let’s listen in.” 

“Afternoon, folks,” Beau greeted as he looked down at the notes in front of him. “We have a missing five-year-old girl tonight out of Big Sky and we’re askin’ for the public’s help in locating her. We’ll post this photo just after this conference, but she is five-years-old, approximately 43 inches tall and 39 pounds. She left home this morning wearing jeans with a daisy patch on the pocket, a light pink long-sleeved t-shirt that says ‘GAP’, a lavender puffy coat and sneakers with a little blue dog on them, called Bluey.” 

Your heart raced against the confines of your chest as he spoke and more tears yet again flooded your eyes. 

“She is in the presence of Jackson Lyle, who is considered to be armed and dangerous. If you have seen anything or heard anything, please contact the Sheriff’s office immediately,” he said. “We’ll be coordinating a search and rescue team in a few hours and are askin’ for the public’s help, and anyone who may want to volunteer. If interested, you can meet us at the Sheriff’s office at five o’clock.”

You felt an overwhelming sense of gratitude. The FBI had hardly attempted to coordinate with the public, but now the word was out and people could start looking for your daughter. 

“Here’s the photo, and this will be posted across news pages and social media here shortly,” Beau finished. “I’ll take any questions now.” 

“Sheriff, is this the same Jackson Lyle who has been on the run the last few months?” A reporter asked. 

“It is,” Beau replied. 

“What is the girl’s relation to Jackson Lyle?” Another reporter asked. 

“Jackson Lyle is her biological father,” Beau stated simply. There were murmurs from reporters in front of the podium. “We aren’t going to discuss anything regarding Jackson Lyle further. Our goal is to get this little girl home as quickly as possible. If you see Bailey Lyle or Jackson Lyle, please call our office immediately. Thank you.” He stepped away from the podium and the screen cut back to the local news. 

They didn’t miss a beat to show the photo Beau had shared—it felt surreal to see your baby girl on the local news. The tears fell from your eyes as they began to talk about the conference. 

“For our viewers who may not remember, Jackson Lyle is the man who was arrested almost a year ago now for drug trafficking and domestic violence,” and there it was. The painful past that made you want to vomit. You reached for the remote and muted the screen, your eyes steadied on the photo of your daughter. 

Almost instantly, you heard the door to Beau’s office open. Your gaze darted there and tried to focus on him, but it was a challenge through the tears. 

His firm demeanor fell when he saw you. “You alright, darlin’?” You shook your head back and forth. “I know it’s a lot, and I’m real sorry for that.” A heavy sigh fell from his lips. “But we need to get you outta here. We’re gonna go out the back to avoid the press.” You stood to your feet and wiped at your eyes with the back of your hand. 

“Aren’t we setting up the search party here?” You asked him, confused. 

He paused and diverted his eyes to the floor below his boots. “I just need to get you somewhere first,” he hesitated, and you knew that he was trying to skirt around whatever it was he wanted to say. 

“Beau…” you started, the pain in your voice strengthened so it was firm. “I’m joining the search party.” 

“I just need you to get in my truck,” his tone was pleading. “I need you to trust me.” His eyes bore back into yours again and you thought if you stared hard enough, you might be able to see his soul. 

Even though trusting people wasn’t really your thing, you nodded once and followed him through the door to the back exit of the building. His steps were long and quick, and for every stride he took, you took two. He threw open the driver’s door and you did the same to the passenger. As soon as you were in and your door was closed, he peeled out of the lot. 

Your eyes studied the side of his face. The worry lines he had acquired over the years, the freckles that matched his green gaze, plus some he had probably gotten from spending his days in the sunshine. His hair swooped to the side of his forehead haphazardly and you realized this day had taken almost as much out of him as it had you. 

“Beau, where are we going?” Your voice was soft but your tone was firm. You didn’t want to be mad at him—he seemed to be the only person taking initiative at finding Bailey. 

He didn’t say anything, and that scared you. But you knew these roads better than anyone, and you knew the direction you were headed. 

“Don’t you dare take me home, Beau,” you could hear your heartbeat in your ears. 

“I need you to listen to me,” he gripped the steering wheel tightly as he turned onto your private drive. “We need someone to stay at the house in case Bailey comes home. Havin’ you out there isn’t gonna change anything. I need you here. It’s the safest place for you.” 

“I don’t give a fuck about being safe, Beau!” Your voice raised as the anger boiled in the pit of your stomach. “All I care about is finding my kid. Did you sit at home when your daughter was missing?! And don’t you dare lie to me.”

“This is my job,” he emphasized. “And in order to do my job right, I need you here.” He shifted the gear into park. You noticed the two deputies already parked just outside your home. 

“You’re something else,” you scoffed, anger flowing freely. “How dare you.”

“You know what, sweetheart? I know you’re pissed. I hear you, and I’m sorry,” he sighed. “You can be mad at me all you want. Hate me, even, I don’t care. But I made you a promise that I’m gonna get your girl back, and I intend to keep it.” 

Your door opened and you recognized the deputy on the other side, it was Deputy Mo Poppernak. 

“Ma’am,” he greeted you with a nod. He was nervous, and you could tell Beau had prepared his team for this moment.

“You told me to trust you,” angry tears settled in your eyes and at this point, you didn’t think it was possible to have any tears left after how much you had cried that day. “I don’t trust anyone–you know that! How could you do this to me? He’s not bringing her back here, Beau. You have to know that. I need to be out there looking for her!” Your voice was broken and tired, but you begged anyway. There was no dignity left, and you didn’t care.

Beau reached across the center console area of his truck and grasped your hands in his. Slowly, so he enunciated every word, he said, “I’m going - to get - her back. You have my word.” He held your gaze for a moment before he looked just over your shoulder. “Get her outta here, Pops.” 

You tirelessly struggled against Mo Poppernak’s hands as he tried to ‘help’ you out of the truck. “I’ve got it,” you grumbled. As soon as your feet were safely on the gravel, the deputy closed the door and Beau flipped it into reverse. 

You prayed he knew what he was doing. 

Surprise! I’m dropping this a day ahead of schedule, because tomorrow is super hectic for me and I just can’t wait any longer (Team No Chill, over here). Thank you for all of the feedback, likes and shares on the last part. I hope I am keeping you hooked! As always, I would love any feedback you may have for me, or just your thoughts and feelings as you read <3. I appreciate you! New installments posted on Wednesdays and Saturdays! (Minus today, where I’m posting a day early [depending on where you are in the world when you read it!]).

A preview of the next chapter:

There were multiple deputies coming and going from your home. Mo seemed to be the constant—he was the only one who actually came inside. He wanted to make sure you had water and he tried to get you to eat (tried being the key word). But you were glued to the television. The search had begun, but they weren’t showing much. You had only seen Beau once on your screen, but you assumed they were trying to be inconspicuous with where they searched, just in case Jackson was watching. 

Matt, the FBI agent, had stopped by. You assured him you didn’t know anything about the press conference or the search. The anger you felt around Beau ditching you had mostly diminished. But now it was replaced by anxiety, fear and despair. 

Mo had been gracious enough to close Bailey’s bedroom door when he spotted you staring from the doorway with tears falling down your face. 

“She’s probably cold and tired,” you muttered as he approached. 

“It’s going to be okay, ma’am. We’re going to find her,” his words were meant to be comforting, but you knew he couldn’t make you any promises.

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[daffodildelight]

Enemies (Part Two) | Shuntarō Chishiya x Reader

Title: Enemies (Part Two)

Pairing: Shuntarō Chishiya x fem!reader

Summary: Things start to get a little bit heated between the two of you

Themes/Warnings: fluff, tiny bit of smut, season 2 spoilers, injuries, mention of blood, voyeurism kind of?

Word count: 2600sh

A/N: Since the first part was so well received I decided to pull a all nighter for you guys. Merry Christmas, here’s your part two. Highly unedited but I will make my way round to it.

Even with Chishiya protecting me from this blast it wasn’t enough. A few tiny bits of shrapnel from the grenade lodged itself into my arm. I couldn’t feel it at the moment because of my adrenalin but when it wears out it will hurt like I bitch. I’m just hoping it hasn’t nicked an artery. But that can be focused on later for now I have Chishiya pinning me to the ground protecting me from the King of Spades.

The King of Spades quickly sprints off towards Ann and the gang, completely forgetting about us. My guess would be when I kicked the grenade towards him and it exploded he didn’t see Chishiya and I dive to hide behind a different car. What luck we have. Chishiya is chest-to-chest with me. Faces super close to each other. We stay like that for a few seconds none of us saying anything. The tension is thick, but it’s soon over when Chishiya turns his attention to my arm. “Come on we have to go, you’ve been injured and we need to fix it. Let’s find a place to set up.”

Chishiya pulls me from the ground and walks us pretty far away from the King of Spade's blimp. This walk took us over an hour and I can start to feel my arm hurting. I look at my tight white long-sleeved t-shirt covered in blood, and Chishiya notices. “I think we should rest up there” Chishiya points to a sky tower. “Hight will give us an advantage over anyone” I start to sway ‘’Yeah, I think you might be right but I also want to sit down, I'm starting to feel very dizzy.’’

Chishiya and I make our way up a few flights of stairs until we agreed upon a level to stay on. We decided to stay on the 10th level, not too high if we get ambushed but also high enough to see what was happening on the street. Chishiya looks at me seriously before saying “I’m going to go scavenge, try and find us some food and medical supplies for you. I want you to stay here and set up our new space’’. I gave Chishiya an appreciative look ‘’That sounds like a great idea, and when you get back we can discuss our game plan.’’

Chishiya takes his leave and I start to look around the surrounding area to set up our space. This building was in the middle of being constructed so the entire floor was an open space, really was not much I can do with my limited resources and bloody arm. I spotted a small 2 seater couch in the corner of the floor and started moving it towards the centre of the room, making sure to face towards the door in case anyone comes in. It hurt like a bitch to move the couch but it needed to be done for the sake of comfort and security. I didn’t have any valuables on me so there wasn’t anything to unpack so I just sat on the couch waiting for Chishiya to come back to me.

You had been sitting on the small couch for what seemed like days, but in reality, it was just an hour. You felt nervous that Chishiya was out there all alone and if he ended up dead it would be your fault since he was getting medical supplies for you. Anxiously sitting on the couch waiting for Chishiya to come back, that was until you heard a noise coming up the stairs and heading towards the door. You hid behind the couch, in a low position so that when this person comes you could give them a surprise attack. But it wasn’t necessary because the person who walked in through the door was Chishiya with bags full of food and medical supplies. ‘’You can’t believe how much medical stuff there is left behind.’’ Chishiya gives a smirk.

Chishiya makes his way towards the couch and dumps the bags of food and medical supplies right in front of me. ‘’Alright let me get my medical kits ready, for now, I want you to take off your shirt and sit facing towards the door.’’ Chishiya explains. ‘’I’m sorry you want me to take off my shirt? Why can’t I just roll up my sleeve?’’ I try to debate, feeling nervous that this is how Chishiya will see me shirtless and not the way you imagined it to be. “You’re shirt is tight. If I roll up the sleeve it will cause pressure on the wounds which will make it impossible for me to close up. Now hurry up and get rid of it.” Chishiya sighs frustratingly before going to prep his kit.

Taking off my shirt was a lot harder than I thought it would be, making sure I don’t move my shoulder or let the fabric graze my wounds. There were a few times this happened and it caused me to let out a hiss which bought Chishiya's attention. He makes his way over, and stands in front of me assisting me to pull off my shirt. Once that was done I was only left in my lacy purple bra which was stained with blood. I looked up at Chishiya and he was looking down at me with his piercing brown eyes. You had never been this physically close to Chishiya apart from nearly being killed by a man with lots of rifles. Now I had the chance to actually observe his handsome features. Blonde hair drops down to his chin which suits his perfectly crafted facial structure, you now know why you kinda had a thing for him back at The Beach. He was so handsome.

We had been staring at each other for about upwards of 2 minutes and the tension was thick. Chishiya was the first to pull away and he goes to grab the medical kit and crouches next to me. He puts his gloves on and softly examines my wounds with his fingers. “You are very lucky the shrapnel didn’t hit your artery. You would’ve been in a bad place.’’ Chishiya continues to look over you before cleaning the wound, grabbing tweezers and pulling small chucks of metal out. It was agonising, I was trying to hold in my whimpers of pain to make myself look stronger in front of him but some did escape. “You know I thought I would have you whimpering in other ways” Chishiya whispers into your ear before pulling more shrapnel out.

“Ha very funny, how do you even how to do this? This hurts much less than I was expecting’’ I laugh but also feel physically hot from the previous comment. Chishiya let’s out a sigh before speaking “before all this, I used to be a doctor”. You shugged your shoulders ‘’I had a feeling that your career would be something like that with the way you react to things” Chishiya looks baffled “What do you mean?’’. You looked at him with a smirk and continued  “Medical professionals have to be calm in stressful situations. When we play these death games you always remain calm. Hell, today when everyone was running away from the King of Spades you were walking’’. Chishiya looks surprised “you're smarter than you look”. He finishes pulling out shrapnel and holds medical dressing to the wound to stop it from bleeding any future. He then gives you a look to hold the dressing as he then pulls out a thread and needle.

“While I was sitting here and waiting for you I was thinking about our game plan” I explain. Chishiya nods with approval and waits for me to continue while penetrating my skin with the needle. I let out a whimper again “I don’t think we can take on the King of Spades by ourselves and if we wait any longer our visas will expire which means we have to compete in a game.” I shift in my seat after Chishiya ties off the first stitch, still waiting for me to continue. “I don’t think we should do a spades game because I’m not physically up for it. Diamonds are out of the question because it’s my weakest point, these are face games which are harder than normal. Which leaves us with hearts or clubs. But what do you want us to do?”.

Chishiya finishes up with another stitch before saying “I agree with you, we aren’t enough for the King of Spades and our visas will run out if we even try. I think we should do the Jack of Hearts since it’s the closest to us.” You nod approvingly, “we will sleep tonight and get ready for tomorrow”. Chishiya goes to walk away and comes back with a brand new top for me, I had completely forgotten I was half naked in front of him this entire time. Pulling this new shirt over my head I remembered that there was only one couch and it isn’t big enough to fit 2 people to sleep on.

“Listen I’ll take the floor and you take the couch tonight as a thank you for patching me up” I smile. Chishiya doesn’t argue and goes to pull off his top and robe. I pull my hands over my eyes for respect but you really did want to have a look at his chest again. “Chishiya! What are you doing!” in a loud shout. “What? I sleep shirtless stop being childish” he replies with a teasing tone and a sexy smirk before collapsing onto the couch and chucking me a pillow. “Goodnight princess I’ll see you in the morning and don’t sleep on the sore side of your arm.” He says sarcastically. “Yeah, no shit sherlock” I laughed.

-

Waking up in the early hours of the morning is never fun but it’s good when you wake up earlier than Chishiya and can look at his beauty without feeling panicky that he could catch you, yeah this is a bit creepy but my feelings for him gotten deeper since the 10 of hearts game. Chishiya is laying chest down on the couch facing you, his hair brushed over his face and it moves every time he takes a breath. With the limited view you had, you gazed at his shirtless torso, this guy is ripped! Just makes you feel all hot and bothered but you can’t help but imagine Chishiya in a more sexual way. Imagine waking up to Chishiya on top of you leaving neck kisses and whispering words of praise into your ear. His strong hands grazing your sides and hips grinding into yours. Your hands in his hair tugging at him to continue his assault on your body while letting out whimpers and moans. “You like what you see?” speaks Chishiya from the couch as his eyes make direct contact with you. Immediately snapping out of your daydream you recover with a fake laugh “as if”.

Chishiya and you get ready for the game, not before trying to get one last glimpse of Chishiya’s abs. Packing up your stuff you head towards the exit. “How's your arm feeling?” Chishiya asks “Can I take a look at it after this game just to make sure it’s okay and that there's no infection?”. You let out a light laugh “You care about me Chishiya? Of course i’ll let you have a look but you’ll have to pay me good money to get a look at my sexy arm” Chishiya groans and you end the conversation with a wink.

Arriving at the game venue early is always good, it gives you a chance to look at the venue and figure out any crucial information. Chishiya and I arrive at what looks like a prison, in the entranceway is a table with multiple collars. Chishiya puts his one on first then I do mine and it seems like we are some of the firsts here. “Come with me, let's have a look around the game venue” Chishiya states and without hesitation, you follow. Nothing seems out of the ordinary apart from having a huge pantry. You and Chishiya make your way to the cells where you can hear whimpers and moans. Chishiya and you turn and look right at each other, both thinking of ways to use this information in the game. We both head towards the cell to see who is having sex. A man and woman both in business suits are screwing each other in the cell, him having her from behind.

As Chishiya and I walk away from the cell all I can think is what if Chishiya and I were doing that? It slowly consumes my thoughts but I soon snap out of it before Chishiya notices me daydreaming again. We head to the main lobby and wait 10 short minutes, by then the lobby is filled with people who are risking their lives for visas. The last man walks in making the amount of people in the room stand at 20. He has very broad shoulders and a look on his face that could make you freeze. Chishiya sighs next to you while he leans against the wall.

The P.A. then chimes “Difficulty level, Jack of Hearts. Game, Solitary Confinement. Rules, Guess the card suit that appears on the back of your collar. However, you may not look at the symbol yourself. The time limit is one hour per round. In the final five minutes, enter your cell and disclose your symbol. If you do not answer with the correct symbol the game is over. The collar will explode and you will die. Additionally, when the time limit reaches zero the symbol on the collar will reset and change for each round.” Discussion can be heard throughout the lobby area, you overhear people saying that we can just give each other the answers but you and Chishiya know that it's not gonna be that easy. The P.A. continues “The solitary confinement game is about how much you can trust your fellow players. Be aware that your opponent, The Jack of Hearts, has already been placed among you.” I turn to look at Chishiya and laugh “who could’ve guessed”. The P.A continues a third time

“How to win. Rounds repeat every hour. You win the game when the Jack of Hearts dies.” you look around the room and see players try to take off their collars to no avail. “Prohibited actions. Looking at your symbol with a reflective surface is cheating. Players must not use weapons or violence to kill fellow players.” Chishiya goes to whisper into my ear with his hot breath “This means that the only way this game will ever end is if the Jack gives the wrong answer. So basically no one here is getting out alive unless they lie to the Jack.” You have to admit Chishiya’s intelligence is a real turn-on for you and you can’t help but notice how close you 2 are right now. His back is right up against yours while he’s whispering into your ear. You have to bite into your lip to compose yourself.

“There is no limit to the number of rounds. Enough food has been provided. While participating in this game no days will be removed from your visas”. Chishiya shifts his body so he’s now facing you super closely and whispers quietly “So we need to start lying, find the Jack of Hearts and kill them off, or we’ll live out our days in this prison. Soliartary for life.” he leans in even closer to you. nose to nose. “I wouldn’t mind spending the rest of my days here with you” he finishes while staring into my eyes with his perfect face. We were rudely interrupted by the P.A system again.

“The game will now commence”

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[faghubby]

Future

"How did it go?" I asked. As Paul came home.

"Fine" he said quickly heading to the bedroom. I got up and followed him. I came up behind him and hugged him.

"We can talk about it" I assured him. I took the paperwork he was still holding from him. He just let me take it as I read down. I saw he scored a two out of ten. As I read the results. He was deemed not only small but because of his aptitude test he was fitted with the smallest cage.

"Paul this isn't that surprising" I told him hugging him again.

"But" he wimpered. "It means we can never"

"Baby, no it just means we can't have kids" I told him. He seemed a little better but not much. I read the self care page.

"It says you should keep yourself shaved to help prevent discomfort" my eyes lit up. "You're shaved?"

He blushed. I started to unbuckle his belt. I needed to see. He was shy but didn't stop me. I pulled down his pants and found pink underwear. I looked up surprised.

"They said they would help support the cage" he told me. They looked like boys briefs except pink and no slit to pee from. I tried not to laugh as I pulled them down to see the smallest chastity cage. I had seen the cage on the news as they had discussed the different levels but it was smaller then I had imagined. I touched it held him softly.

"Ahhh" he moaned.

"Sorry" I realized it was exciting him and stopped. I pulled his pants back up and left him to sulk at least for now.

The Matriarchal laws had passed. A month ago. All men where required to submit to a psychological and physical exam to gauge their role in society. Woman now controlled the government in great numbers. The congress of 100 members only three where male. And there where no male judges. This with a steep decline in pregnancies led to the passing of a series of laws. Allowing woman to find men that where fertile. But also strong and fit. Generically Alpha. It wasn't just size and strength but also intelligent, creative. There where levels of clarification. ALPHA, OMEGA, JACKS AND BETAS.

Paul had rated a 2 making him a low rated Beta. Always locked especially in public. It also allowed me to find men outside my marriage. The laws also relieved Paul of manly duties. He could not hold certain physical jobs. His right to vote was also limited. Along with home ownership, driving alone at night. Being out alone at night for that matter. I went back to the packet I had been reading when Paul came home. I added his evaluation to the paperwork. The paperwork allowed me to take control of all our assets. It even allowed me to change his name if I wished having him take my maiden name if I wished. There was also releases to allow me to be added to dating list for men that wished to help me cuckold my husband. There was a spot for Paul to sign but it wasn't required for him to sign since he scored under a 4.

I gave Paul a few hours then went to check on him. As I walked in he quickly turned off the TV. I walked over and took the remote and turned it back on. He was watching the new Submissive channel.

I sat down next to him on the bed. It was a educational how to show on pleasing your mistress.

"You didn't want me to see this?" I asked. He was embarrassed. I watched for a few minutes. They where talking about excepting his new role. And how to show her he excepted his role and was not a threat to her lovers. They talked about asking her to wear panties, or even to peg his ass.

"How do you feel about this?" I asked

"Trish I understand that" he tried but stopped. "Are you going to take a lover?"

"I haven't decided. How do you feel about it?" I asked him.

"I don't think I, I don't know?" He mumbled.

"You can't call me Trish in public, I think you should call me Ms Trish even at home so you get used to it" I suggested he almost seemed relieved I wasn't going to demand Mistress or something.

"I like you to sign the release before I send them" I told him as I ran my hand thru his hair. I smiled at the commercials on the tv. Even they where directed towards male submissiveness. As I smiled at a salon offering discount on full body hair removal. I suddenly had him lean forward and removed his shirt.

"Take off your pants" I told him. I stood and did as I said

"Leave your boi panties" I giggled, he frowned. I pulled him into bed.

"Lay still" I told him. I teased his nipples.

"Tell me what you rate on an arousal scale q being don't like and 10 being don't stop. I kissed his neck and nibbled on his ear. He moaned and wiggled trying to stay still.

"6 ohh 8" he moaned. I worked my way down teasing his nipples. Again he moaned and bucked his hips in the air. "8" again he moaned.

I moved down getting 4 on his tummy. But when I cupped his balls his dick was leaking precum from his cage. I licked and put his cage in my mouth then each of his balls one at a time.

"Please unlock me" he moaned

"I don't have the key yet" I told him. He just moaned as I continued to tease his inner thighs. He spread his legs further. So I took it as a invite and licked his asshole. I thought he would explode, I didn't like it but quickly replaced it with my fingers. I grabbed some Vaseline from my makeup table and worked my finger into his ass. Without a word he pulled his legs to his chest. Giving me total access to his ass. I soon had two then three fingers in his ass. I was absolutely amazed how much he loved this. We had never done anal play before. But Paul was in heaven his cage leaking as he moaned. After a few minutes I stopped and got up and washed my hands. When I returned Paul laid there his pink underwear pulled down alittle just as I had left them.

"I don't want to heat another moan or complaint. No more sulking. It is obvious that you are exactly what the doctors determined." I walked over to my dresser and pulled out a pair of my panties.

"Wear these you got yours all dirty" I told him. Then get dressed we are going shopping. He didn't grumble. He didn't say a word just did exactly as I instructed. I drove to one of the nicer department stores. He got out of the car and I had to double step to catch him. I held his hand.

"You will wait for me. I may even decide you will wait till I open your door for you. Is that understood" I stressed.

"Yes, Ms Trish." He replied lowering his head. As soon as we walked in we were greater by a saleswoman.

"Good afternoon" she said to me quickly glancing at Paul. "We have a new department set up right over here, for our new Femine men" she offered.

"Really, perfect just what we came in for" the woman just smiled as I led Paul. The whole section of the store was bathed in pink. I was greeted by a man dressed almost completely in pink as well.

"Good afternoon Madem. My name is Jackie if I can help you with anything please ask." He said.

"Yes we are looking for panties for my husband." I said

"Of course, would you like him to wear any particular style" Jackie asked as he led us to a table. "These have extra room in the front" he started.

"We don't need that" I laughed looking at Paul who was over welmed by all this. "These are more humiliation" he pointed out panties that had sayings like girlie boi or fuck my wife for me. On them.

I saw the cutest little yellow thong.

"OH I like these" I giggled showing Paul.

"He looks to be a size 9" Jackie commented but he can try them on right over there. He then handed me a condom.

"So he doesn't leak in them" Jackie informed me. I just smiled. It was encouraged that I went into the changing room with him. Even a comfy chair for me to sit in was provided.

"Trish" Paul begged as I told him to try them on.

"You want me to play with your ass again?" I wispered in his ear. He stripped and slid on the thong. Pulled and poked checking how they fit having him turn.

"What do you think?" I asked Paul.

"I fell like I got a wedgie" he commented.

"Good" I smiled. I let him get dressed. He carried the thong around the store. I added a few more. Then I saw a tee shirt. Registered 2 is all it said.

"Which color?" I asked Paul their was. A pink, baby blue, and a high visibility yellow in his size.

"Blue?" He said softly. I looked him in the eye.

"How about pink?" I suggested he just nodded and took it from me. There where skirts and dresses. Lots of sizes to feminized your man. I pointed things out and gaged Paul's reactions. As we approached the register there was a long glass case full of sex toys. I stopped and asked to see several dildos the saleswoman was knowledgeable and showed me lots of features. I bought a harness and two dildos along with a wand to hold against the cage. Paul was beet red as we checked out. I held his hand as we walked across the parking lit again. As soon as we got home i had Paul sign the paperwork and sent it in to the new office of submissive men. I took Paul back into the bedroom this time I stripped and laid on the bed.

"Use your tounge make me cum" I told him. Paul did as asked. I felt impowered and gave him instructions he was good at eating pussy. But there was always things he did that did nothing for me. Or things I wish he did more. He listened well. And made me cum twice.

My sister keri stopped by after dinner. I think she was curious how Paul had rated.

"He is a 2" I told her.

"Really" she said excited "what are you going to do? Have ypu scene the sissy school?" She rambled on

"Sissy school?" I stopped her.

"Yes they will teach him to be a housewife for you" she laughed.

"And Brian?" I asked about her husband

"6" she was almost disappointed. As a six nothing changed in there marriage at all.

after Keri left I found Paul he was hiding in the bedroom. Again I caught him watching submissive TV again. I noticed a wet spot thru his jeans.

"Paul, you want all of this don't you?" I asked him. He tried to deny it at first.

"I hate the cage but" he stated

"You love the panties and my fingers in your ass" I stated he nodded. I fucked his ass again this time using one of the dildos we had bought.

Then had him shower and dress in my satin pajamas they fit him tightly and looked like he wore capris.

the next day I signed him up for sissy school but also a sissy spa day. They would remove all his body hair. A mani/pedi. And style his hair.

He spent 5 hours a day at school they taught him how to cook and clean. Also tips on pleasing thier wives. Paul was only 1 of 3. Class 2 in school most where 3 and 4. So he was given special instruction in nail care. Hair style, even make up. And walking in heels. I was given daily updates. I paid for Paul to have permanent body hair removal. Paul excepted his role immediately. I also found it so exciting. Fucking his ass every night for the first two weeks.

Paul started receiving what became called the sissy check from the government every month. That plus receiving a promotion at work after my boss was demoted after being classified as a 4. So unable to be more then a personal assistant. I had taken Paul shopping again this time he wanted to try everything. We left with a whole new wardrobe. He would spend most of his time in a dress or skirt. I laughed. And had more sexy panties then I had.

I went to a cuckold mixer, where I met a Darren a tall black alpha male. He didn't ask he took me to a back room and bent me over. He drove his huge thick 10 inch cock deep in my pussy. He took me used me it was such a release. Paul had never even tried to act like Darren did. He pumped his seed into me. There was so much it ran down my leg as he walked me to my car. He picked me uo to kiss me goodbye. But I wanted more. When he put me down I dropped to my knees and right there in the parking lot I pulled his cock back out and slobbered all over it. I could only take maybe a third of his magnificent cock in my mouth. People walked by but I didn't care. Darren finally came feeding me his cum. I swallowed every drop. Before I left giving him my number.

Paul was still up waiting for me dressed in sexy blue lace lingerie.

"I met someone" I told him. He was aware what type of party I had gone to. "I know you have heard about how sissy clean up" I said. He swallowed hard turning a bit pale. "Would you like to try?" I asked. I laid on the bed and lifted my skirt. Paul looked at my cum soaked panties. I led his head down.

"Try it" I said softly first he kissed me thru the panties then got a little braver. Eventually he pulled my panties off and sucked Darren's cum out of me. I started to teach Paul how to suck cock. By making him suck my strapon before I took his ass. Which now was once a week sometimes twice if he was extra good. I met Darren a few more times. Before he moved on.

It had been months since Paul had been locked. And he had only asked that first day to take it off. I had only used the key a handful of times when I had his body hair removed.

I realized we didn't even get many stares anymore since a femine male was not as rare as one would think. Paul's biggest concern was if I was getting enough attention from real men.

I found Pete thru a dating app. He was very interested in a couple. He loved that I had a cuckold. One night I had him spend the night. And in the morning let Paul suck his cock for him. Paul was able to take all 8 inches down his throat and swallowed all his cum. I was so proud.

Later on I allowed Paul to give Pete a massage. Paul's penis leaked the whole time. I then fucked him with my strapon in front Pete. Paul lecked his sissy juice all over himself. Paul even moved out of our room one day giving his spot in the bed up to Pete for good.

When Pete found out he went to Paul's new room. And bent him over the bed. He fucked Paul with force holding his head down. Paul was so turned on he came twice out of cage. As he thanked Pete.

Pete took control of Paul. Now Pauline. The name change was only the start. Pete ran a tight ship. If Pauline didn't do something or did it not the way Pete liked it done though. Pete would pull down his panties and spank him. Or stand in the corner. Even having him suck his friend Larry's cock when he came over to watch the game.

He also liked Pauline to dress very slutty, or even spend the day in just panties and a bra for the day.

Pete also took a firm hand with me at least in the bedroom. sex was wonderful. When I got pregnant. I don't know who was more excited Paul or Pete. Pauline swore to care for the child. He was always there when I got morning sickness, or needed my feet rubbed. Or sucked Pete's cock when I was to far along or just not in the mood.

When our daughter was born I didn't change more then a dozen diapers and Pete not a single one. Pauline got up in the middle of the night. Aunt Pauline was decided he would be called.

[apieceofmi]

STRANGERS… or not

Noah Sebastian x Reader

Summary: a stranger in a train that captive her heart, never seen him again… but his face was familiar, maybe that was more than just a connection, maybe she already saw him somewhere. A lot of research and… oh, yeah, she really sees his face before, her and millions of people… it's just sad that he seems so untouchable. Right?

Author’s note: Okay, so part 2 was unexpected, but It's here!! And now I have a few more ideas for this same couple and context… I think there are more coming. Anyway, hope you like it! xx

Part One (You don't have to necessarily read the first part to understand this one, it's up to you)

__________________________________________________________

Just when I thought that my chances are over, I found him. The stranger I’ve met in a train coming back from my hometown months ago, talked for hours and I left without knowing his name.

I took the same train and visit my parents more times than is good for my mental health, I sat there and wait for him, but got nothing. Then I searched in social media, everywhere I could think of, but it is so difficult to search for something - someone in this case - that you know nothing about. I have an image in my mind, the sound of a laugh, and nothing more. We shared so much that day, but as the days passed it seemed like nothing. Then, when I gave up and convinced myself that I was making it bigger than it should have been, when I accepted that it had become just a great memory, exactly how I wanted it, I found him.

Screaming in my phone, I'm not the only one that think he's a cool guy. I feel kind of stupid when I realize that he's not just an ordinary person, and that's probably why I thought I already knew him that day on the train.

Not a surprise, just me romanticizing my life again.

And maybe that is the reason why I'm doing it again, because I swear that I feel something more around this - him. In my delusion mind, you don't meet someone by chance. You don't screw up the chance you have to really know someone when you feel a special connection with them. Not like I did. Maybe that's the reason that I feel the necessity to just see him again. I don't know what I expect of this, and maybe I should just let it go, but I have friends that are delusional like me, and they support me with this crazy feeling… So, yeah, I listened to all of his band's albums and came to a show - just because it was in my city. It's not like I fight for tickets when I found out that they would be here. Not at all. 

Everything was good, and I was already feeling that coming to the show was the closure that I need to this history when my friend Anna, that came with me, grab my hand while we're exiting the venue.

“Let's wait outside. I know some fans do it, sometimes they stop to take pictures and talk to them.”

I get nervous immediately. I've already seen him, discovered who he is and for me that's enough, I don't have the courage to be in front of him again. I don't want him to think that I'm stalking him and make this role thing uncomfortable. It was supposed to be something nice, just it. Actually, it was just supposed to be a memory. Everything that happened after I left that day shouldn't have happened, I didn't say my name because I didn't want anything to happen. I'm going further than I should, I'm exceeding the limit I drew for myself. It's more than enough.

“No! We can't wait for them!” I protest, thinking in an excuse when Anna looks at me, her eyes narrow, knowing me well enough. “I have to work in the morning.”

“You can miss one rehearsal.”

“I have class tomorrow. I can't miss it, I'm the teacher.” I say, but Anna doesn't take me serious, she knows that I'm having a meltdown right now. “What if they don't even came out? We’re just going to lose time waiting here.”

Squeezing my hand, she smiles at me.

“Then at least you tried.”

So we wait, talk with some people that are waiting there too and it's cool. It's nice. But I can't stop feeling that I'm doing something wrong being here. I don't know, betraying the universe, maybe? I made my choice that day and just because I regret it now, can I just switch sides? 

Uh, no, I don't think so. 

Maybe it's supposed to be just like it was, some nice exchange in the train between strangers. Maybe it supposed for me not saying my name.

I'm almost given up and going home when I see them coming in our direction. Anna has a big smile in her face, her eyes shinning, and I almost can hear her saying - he's here! He's here! - but I just look at her and then at him approaching the others, and I freeze, taking a step back. 

There's another member of the band with him - with I know now that his name is Nicholas - and they start to talking with the little crowed waiting for them. I stay in the corner with Anna, without a clue to how to start this interaction without being a weirdo.

I'm still considering running out of here when his eyes catch me one time. Two times. A little frowning in his face in the third time. What if he doesn't remember me? 

“I know you” he says, his eyes studying mine, coming closer.

“We met at…” But I don't need to finish when his faces changes. He recognizes me. 

“Yes, I remember” he smiles. “You found me.”

I let out a small nervous breath, forcing it into a weak smile.

“It took long enough, but yes. I did found you.”

There’s a grin that won't leave his lips, and I cannot stop staring at it. 

“What's your name?” Yeah, here's the million dollars question.

I finally tell him my name, answering the question I should have answered months ago when I had the opportunity, then had to beg the universe for another chance.

“Well, I’m Noah” he says next.

“Nice to meet you.” I chuckled nervously.

I already know his name, but him saying it to me feels more legit. I think I can finally stop referring to this man in my mind as him or the stranger.

He finally has a name.

“You liked the show?” Noah asks.

“Yes! It was so great!” I rejoiced. “You guys are so talented! I was shocked when I was listening the albums, I'm just… I became a fan.”

The smile in Noah’s lips grows and the shy look in his eyes makes strange things happen in my stomach. I really hope that's not butterflies. It's like something frozen at the moment, at the same time suddenly I'm well aware of the people still around us, hoping for a little more time with the members of the band they came to see. 

Noah gives me a little embrace, catching me off guard when I hear his voice so close.

“You found me, now it's my time” he whispers in my ear.

“I follow you” I replied, the words coming out my mouth like it's an urgency. 

“Great.” he says, stepping back and giving attention to the person next to us.

I look around for Anna, who I didn't even see leaving, she's back at my side in a second.

“How it was?” she asks as we leave. 

“He said he's going to find me” I chuckle. “ I think on social media? I don't know.”

“It would be suspicious if he asked for your number in front of everyone.” She considers. “Or even invite you for, I don't know… their bus” Anna makes a funny face, giving me a side look. “I wouldn’t let you leave with him like that anyway, he’s cute and talented, but he’s still a man.”

I laugh, loving her a little more for taking care of me.

“I wouldn’t abandon you like that.” I say. “Thank you for coming with me.”

"Of course. As if I would miss the chance to help my best friend meet her train crush, who happened to be a fucking rock star." She rolls her eyes, getting into the car.

“It don't even make sense.” I let out a disbelief laugh. “Did you see how many people were there today? This is like impossible, he's famous, a celebrity, I'm not the kind of person…”

“Stop it right now.” She interrupts me. “He's a person just like you are. Yes, he's talented and is in a band that obviously is getting bigger every second, but it doesn't mean anything. He's human. You're human. It's all we need.”

“You're right, I'm thinking too much again.” I say, starting the car. “At least I tried.”

I'm already home getting ready to sleep when a notification came on my phone. A message on Instagram from an account with a peculiar profile pic. I don't make a ceremony and open it right away.

“I can't believe that I spend two hours talking with you that day and don't ask your name first thing!” 

“I swear, I'm not like this in normal situations”

“You got me nervous”

I bite my bottom lip, trying to stop myself from smiling.

“I'm sorry for not saying my name when you asked. I regret it every day since I left.” 

“Two fools”

“How did you found me? I tried to look for you but get nothing”

“Well, I'm not as popular as you”

“A video of the band randomly appeared on my timeline, I think I talked about the guy on the train so much to my friends that the algorithm took pity on me and threw it in my face.”

“For once social media did something right”

“So… You're going to stay in town or…?”

“No. We already left”

“I didn't want to expose you out there earlier, but if you get me your number, I can let you know when I'm around?”

“I'll understand if you don't want to, my life can be a little crazy sometimes.”

There's no hesitation in my answer.

“I really want to know better the guy that I met on the train three months ago and can't stop wondering about, so… Yes, If that's okay for you.”

“Great. I've searched for you in every city that we go to since that day, can't wait to properly get to know you too, stranger.”

So I sent my number.

And God, I should have known I was in trouble the moment I got that first message from him. As the days went by, I realized that I was crazy to think that Noah was untouchable just because of what he does for a living, he has become the funniest and sweetest person I know.

We're definitely not strangers anymore.

Not when we talk every day now.

Not when I learned all his favorites.

Not when I’m counting days to see Noah in person again.

#noah sebastian fic #noah sebastian fanfic #bad omens x reader #noah sebastian and reader #noah sebastian x reader #noah sebastian fluff

[writingjourney]

Friday Nights at the Cinema Club | Vampire!Primo x gn!Reader

Summary: The handsome old gentleman who attends the late night showings is certainly the best part about your small town weekend job. But as the gentle attraction between you slowly begins to bloom, you realise that there’s more to him than meets the eye – and promptly find yourself chased into the woods by an unexpected monster.

Content: 14k words, vampire!primo, gn!reader, horror, violence, being hunted, harassment, men being assholes, smut (18+ MDNI, biting, blood kink/blood drinking, oral sex r!receiving, penetration, coming inside, unprotected sex)

This was originally intended to fill the “hunted” prompt for the @petrifyingpapas challenge. I am a little late but I hope you enjoy it anyway and give Primo his chance to shine! ♡

Masterlist – Ao3 link – Part 2 | Secondo's story

“This life of earth, whatever my attire, Would pain me in its wonted fashion. Too old am I to play with passion; Too young, to be without desire.”

― Johann Wolfgang von Goethe, Faust: Part 1

Now

He’s been following you for weeks.

Primo just can’t stop himself, no matter how many times he tells himself that he’s overstepping. As he watches the hurried pace you set, carrying you home in the early hours of a cool spring morning, he smells your distress like an overly strong perfume. Jacket tightly wrapped around your tense shoulders, your steps quicken whenever you leave the safe light of a streetlamp. You’re always nervous walking home alone, even more so since the incident at work. 

This is the very thought that calms his conscience – his concern is rightful, necessary even. He has to protect you because you have no one else who will. Not that you cannot protect yourself, he knows you can, you hold your own quite nicely, but why take any unnecessary risks? Four eyes see more than two, especially if two of those have preternatural vision.

Suddenly you stop, glancing around with searching eyes. “Hello?”

Primo stops as well. It’s impossible that you heard him, he didn’t make any sounds that a human ear could process. Your eyes dart in a different direction and he’s on alert immediately. A few rapid beats of your heart pass. You seem to decide that you’re alright because you continue on your journey even if your legs move that extra bit quicker, walking as fast as possible without actually running.

No, Primo knows you don’t need him. You never ask him to walk you home and when he offers, you politely decline every single time. You don’t need him. You don’t need him how he needs you, and yet it feels good to imagine that you do. That anyone does. The thought he will not entertain, however, is that his motive is a selfish one. He’s been lonely for so long that he pours all that he has into this… whatever this is. And why should he not? In all the centuries that passed since he was cast upon this earth you’re the most wonderful thing he ever had the pleasure to behold and his time with you is so tragically limited, no matter what happens. 

“Fuck,” he hears you mutter then, effectively distracting him. Again, you stop very suddenly, glancing vaguely into the direction he’s hiding in but without any real focus. “Who the fuck is there?”

Primo doesn’t sense anyone else. Possibly, you just heard a strange noise which wouldn’t be the first time since the incident. You’ve been on edge ever since and understandably so. Of course you don’t know that there is no danger of the same thing ever repeating. Which doesn’t mean you’re safe from other perils. Primo dares to stalk closer, foolishly so, because he’s too close now and you must have spotted his movements in the dark because you start to run like your life depended on it.

To his utter terror, you don’t follow your usual route home but take the shortcut through the woods. With breakneck speed, you run along the mud path that meanders through thick pine trees and mossy hills. Primo has no issue keeping up with you of course but he worries about protruding roots and sharp stones you may not see with your human eyes. 

His fear is misdirected. He’s so distracted, watching your every step, that he doesn’t notice the odd smell at first, the second strong, comparatively slow heartbeat amongst all the quiet and rapid ones of the forest animals. But this is no rabbit, no deer, no boar. When he finally notices the presence of the strange entity, the spike of panic is clouding every other rational thought.

He is after you – and he’s fast.

⛧ ✦ ⛧

Four weeks ago

The man has been attending the late night showings for weeks now, every Friday and Saturday. Every week, he shows up exactly fifteen minutes before the screening starts, even though there are practically no waiting times in the small club cinema you’re working at. His attire was what drew your attention to him that first night, even before you’d seen his face, and his choice of clothing seems deliberate. Most evenings, he wears simple black slacks over expensive-looking Italian leather brogues. Tonight, he combined them with a loose white shirt with frills and an open collar that peeks out of a burgundy tailcoat with black lapels and gold embroideries. It looks old-fashioned but not out of place in the similarly dated establishment.

As he approaches you behind the counter, you’re struck yet again, despite being familiar with his almost ethereal looks by now. He must be close to eighty but his deep wrinkles only add to his effortless beauty. His most notable feature, however, is the skull paint adorning his stern face with two uncanny, mismatched eyes – one iris in green and one impossibly white. With his face framed by long blond hair spilling over his shoulders, silky and curled at the ends, he looks like a man who knows exactly how to present himself. An air of easy sophistication surrounds him as he takes deliberate steps in your direction. You’re not surprised that he shows up on weekends when your boss screens his beloved classics. At least that’s what he calls any movie that came out before the year 2000.

“So, Dracula today, yes?” It’s not a question as much as a statement, dripping with distaste. “And the 1992 one at that.”

“Do you not enjoy vampires, sir?” you ask, taking the money for his ticket. Every single bill looks pristine, like it’s been freshly printed, and again, he won’t accept the change you hold out to him, waving off with a gentle smile. Buy yourself a drink on my behalf, tesoro, he’d said once, and you aren’t questioning him anymore, you just pocket the money since there is no one you could split it with.

He regards you with interest. “I enjoy them, sì, though I never found their portrayal in cinema quite believable.”

You chuckle. “Well, perhaps that is because they’re not real.”

“Perhaps, yes,” he says unfazed. “Or perhaps it is the clichés, no?”

“I really like the movie,” you admit. “Though I wish she would just get with the vampire. I certainly wouldn’t hesitate.”

He cocks a curious eyebrow. “Davvero?”

His thick Italian accent makes you blush on any given day, even more so when he speaks plain Italian. There is something about the timbre of his voice that changes, like gold melting in the heat of a forge, the syllables fused together with a flick of his tongue.

“Mhm,” is all you can answer.

“Will you watch it as well, little flower?” he asks and you smile at the nickname he chose for you weeks ago when he caught you arranging a bouquet in the foyer.

“Oh, no, I’m not allowed to leave the register unattended. Or… well, watch movies while I’m supposed to work.”

“I see.” He smiles again, the black lines over his lips shifting so that he looks almost gentle, the severity of the paint watered down by the kindness in his eyes. “That is a pity.”

Is he flirting with you? You can’t tell. Surely, he is just being nice, a polite older gentleman. Would you want him to be flirting with you, though? No, of course not. You couldn’t even flirt back. Your boss might fire you if he found out that you even so much as looked at him the wrong way.

“Can I offer you a snack or a drink, sir?” you ask, remembering your actual job.

“You know, I will take a whisky today,” he says. “If you have it.��

“Of course we do, sir, you can choose your seat and I will serve it in a second.”

The stranger heads off towards the screening room with its soft, polished leather armchairs and moody lighting, jazz tunes wafting from the speakers. You look after him, his long hair gently swaying with every step, and the door to the backroom springs open. It’s your boss, Max, a man in his mid-forties, so unremarkable with his shaggy black hair and his blatant misogyny that he could be any man you ever met. Only that he practically owns you by way of paying for your every bill while you finish your degree. Jobs in small towns are hard to come by, decent men even harder.

“Go serve our customer, come on,” he urges. “I heard him ask for something”

“The register…”

“I take it. Move your pretty ass over, perhaps wiggle a bit when you do, the old pervert is going to love it.” 

You make to leave without wiggling, heading towards the small serving station in the hallway. “Oh, hey,” Max calls after you. “I need you to clean up tonight. Cleaning lady called in sick. Feeling faint or whatever, broke down in the supermarket if you can believe it. They say she’s anemic, that’s their excuse for everything women have these days.”

“Okay,” you reply, hoping he chokes on his tongue one of these days. “Of course, Max. I’ll clean up. No problem.”

“Be a good little thing, don’t forget to check under the seats, always tons of junk down there after the evening showings.”

You nod and try not to run into the screening room and away from him. By now, all anger towards him has been numbed by the sheer amount of obnoxious remarks but you’re never sure if he’s above trying to actually touch you one day. So far, he’s all bark and no bite, but with men like him you never know. Being the only employee who works the night shifts doesn’t help but there is just not enough demand to bring in the others.

You find the stranger in one of the top rows, comfortably seated in what is your favourite spot as well. A smile creeps onto your face. “Here is your whiskey, sir.”

The man peers up at you in what looks like ingenuine surprise, his white eye showing a glimmer of sympathy. He must have heard you and Max but is clearly trying not to show it. You wonder how – you can’t even hear Max outside right now over the jazz music. 

“Grazie mille,” he says as he takes the glass from you.

“Of course, sir. Enjoy your movie.”

“Thank you, fiore.” He smiles, always such a kind smile. “You are a wonderful host.”

You can’t help but smile back, looking at him for just a little longer than is appropriate. But Max must have started the film because the lights dim suddenly until it’s fully dark and you hurry back outside right as the title music starts playing.

Your stranger is the only guest tonight.

⛧ ✦ ⛧

Now 

You run. You run so fast that your lungs are burning in the cold night air. There is no palpable explanation for why you feel so panicked. For most of your way home you’ve felt almost paranoid in your constant fear of being followed. You felt like someone was watching you right from the start but when you came close to the woods your instincts just told you to run. By now, your legs carry you almost automatically despite the fatigue in your limbs. There is a tiny voice in your head that tells you you’re in danger. Big danger.

Halfway through the forest, the track gets steeper. Less feet have trampled it flat as the usual walking path ends and you struggle to keep up your pace. Unsettling noises grow louder to your right – panting, hurried steps, moans and whimpers. Two seconds later you suddenly hear an echoing growl that puts any wolf to shame. Your head whips around but before you can make out anything in the pitch dark your foot gets caught on a root. The impact is suffocating. Your lungs empty out and you think you’re choking on nothing. Only after a long moment in which you struggle for breath do you feel the sharp pain in your arm where it hit a rock, warm blood seeping into your sleeve until its wet and sticky.

Meanwhile, the steps hurry closer and even in the full moon light it’s hard to tell where you are right now. But then you see the trees swaying at the edge of the path and all you know is that you need to keep going. Everything hurts but you manage to get to your feet. As the world sways around you, you leave the safety of the trail in favour of the cover of the trees, their canopy shielding you from the moonlight and hopefully any following eyes.

But of course the creature chasing you doesn’t rely on their vision to find you. Before you walk another mile you can hear rapid footsteps and panting breaths behind you. Too scared to look around and risk another fall, you just run and jump and run even faster. The woods grow thicker, harder to navigate. You try to fish for your phone but when you finally pull it out, it slips from your grasp. “Fuck fuck fuck,” you mutter but you keep running. You can’t stop. 

A familiar boulder appears somewhere in your peripheral vision and you wonder if you’re running in circles. You’re so lost. Even if the creature doesn’t get you, you’re doomed. But the thought is distant as a branch strikes you in the face like a whip. You run but more fallen branches block your path and as you try to jump, you get caught. 

A shriek tears from your throat, so loud and drawn-out that your voice gives out before it ends. The steps are so close now that you know you’re going to get caught any second now. Cowering, trying to get as small as possible, you slowly shift around, ready to beg for mercy. An enormous shadow sprints towards you and suddenly, a bright streak of moonlight falls through the trees. You cry out again as your eyes take in the sight: Spit-coated fangs, claws, thick rough fur on what you can only describe as a giant made of muscles and the horrors of the night. Its facial features look familiar, shaggy hair falling into its cruel eyes. Whatever it is has no merciful bone in its body, that much you can tell. This is your death, you realise. This is it. 

But before you feel the fangs sink into your skin or the claws tear you open, the monster loses balance. All you can see is a vague human-like figure pushing it aside into the shadows with a strength that is impossible to comprehend, two tall silhouettes wrestling for a moment before the huge hairy creature lets out a bone-chilling scream. The giant body slumps in on itself, lifeless, silent. You breathe in gasps, swallowing air that does nothing to calm you down. You fall over, sobbing silently in short-lived relief.

The monster is dead. But you’re not alone.

⛧ ✦ ⛧

Three weeks ago

“So, are you a big movie fan?” the stranger had asked you today when you served him his whiskey. He always orders something now, almost like knowing you serve him permanently changed his ’no thank you’-attitude. Whenever you bring him his order he asks you questions and you end up chatting with him for longer than you should.

“Oh, I like them, yes, but the reason I work here, if that’s why you’re asking, is that it’s one of the few jobs I can do on weekends that pays extra for night shifts.”

“So do you have a day job as well?” he asks, taking his first sip. He’s wearing all black today, black leather gloves, a black shirt and black tailcoat. The only pop of colour is a red rose that he has tugged into a buttonhole of his open jacket.

“Finishing off my degree,” you explain. “I don’t think I’ll work here after that.”

His brow furrows in surprise. “No?”

You chuckle. “No, it doesn’t pay that well. It doesn’t pay well at all, actually.”

“I see.” He turns the tumbler in his hand, the amber liquid twirling inside. “I have to say I am glad. I do not think he treats you well.”

You glance towards the door but Max seems to be busy behind the counter still. “He’s… okay.”

The stranger huffs out a laugh. “No, è un stronzo.”

The smirk that tugs at your lips is hard to shake off, especially with the way he rolls the R in the word. “Yeah, he is. But I have to pay rent and get groceries, so...”

“I understand.” Another sip, slow, barely coating his lips. “Fiore, I do wonder… what is it that you truly burn for? What would you do if no restrictive invention like money mattered?”

You take a deep breath and then you start to tell him about your real interests, your passions. He listens with the avid attention of someone who genuinely cares, who doesn’t just ask out of mere politeness. It’s addicting, the way his intense eyes are glued to your lips, how his whole body is angled into your direction. You get so lost in his gaze, in your explanation, that you forget yourself for a moment.

“Eh!” Max suddenly calls out from the doorway and you jump at the sound of his voice. “Come over for a second, will you?”

You reluctantly leave the stranger in his armchair with an apologetic smile. “I’m sorry. Enjoy your movie, sir.”

“I will,” he says. “Thank you, fiorellino.”

Max watches you with a scowl, roughly pulling you aside as soon as you’re within reach. “Do I pay you for chitchat?”

“No, Max, I’m sorry. I just…”

“You just what?” he snaps, clenching his jaw. “Flirting with the old men won’t get you higher tips, it only screams pathetic whore. You think he can still get it up?”

You stay silent, waiting for him to calm down enough to notice the impropriety of his words and actions. The urge to kick him is so hard to fight that you have to actively push your feet harder into the ground. Your fists ache with how hard you’re clenching them.

Eventually he simmers down, smoothing out his shirt as he clears his throat. “Anyway, you need to clean up again today. The cleaner still hasn’t shown up.”

“What happened?” you ask.

He shrugs but it’s an ingenuine, uncaring gesture. “Apparently she ran away or something. She’s been missing for a while.”

Missing? Wasn’t she anemic? Before you can ask any more questions he leaves you standing right there to start the movie. You head back to the register even though you know no other guests are going to be coming in tonight. For the whole duration of the movie, all you do is wait, scrolling on your phone from where you’re hiding it underneath the desk. No local news site is able to tell you anything about the missing cleaner other than the fact that she just left over night exactly a week ago and hasn’t been found ever since.

“Oh, did we miss the movie?”

You look up to see two men strolling into the lobby. They sway slightly, probably drunk, and smoke despite the big no-smoking sign at the entrance that’s impossible to miss. They look familiar in how unremarkable they appear, one is blond, the other one dark-haired, jeans and crumpled t-shirts betraying their status even though they move with the confident audacity only mediocre white men have.

“Yes, I’m sorry. The movie is almost over,” you say. “By the way, you’re not allowed to smoke in here, sir.”

“Are you off soon, then, sweetheart?” the blond one asks, taking another drag of his cigarette

“No, I have to clean up.”

“Ah, cleaning up… whatever, can’t be that dirty in there, huh?” He grins. “Unless… we make it dirty.”

“Fuck you.”

“Oh, a feisty one!” the dark-haired man says. “That’s how you treat your customers?”

“You haven’t bought anything.”

They whistle almost in unison, though their tunes are slightly off-key. This is not the first time this happens, it’s not even the first time these exact men show up here and try to harass you.

“Come on, maybe you can show us where you keep the liquor?” the blond man asks. “Have a drink with us?”

“I don’t think so, sir. If you don’t want to buy anything, I have to ask you to leave.” You try to stay polite, giving him a tight-lipped smile. “Please.”

He chuckles, tries to round the counter to touch you but there is a sudden shift in atmosphere. It’s almost like all of the warmth is sucked from the room, like the charged air of a thunderstorm is crackling inside its walls. The men seem to feel it too because they suddenly stop in their movements, giving each other nervous glances.

“You were asked to leave, signori, no?”

You look up to find your stranger entering the lobby. The movie must have ended because the lights are on again and he looks so menacing that even you feel a chill running down your spine. His white eye glimmers dangerously, the other one shimmering almost red now but it could be a trick of lighting. They’re narrowed, the skull paint and severity of his features giving him the air of a predator. When the blond man takes another step into your direction, out of spite or stupidity you’re not quite sure, the stranger is on him in a second. You’re surprised by how agile he appears in his age, wondering briefly if he just looks older than he is or if you’re just prejudiced. But the man backs away immediately, joining his buddy by the door. A second later Max enters as well from the backroom, looking mildly irritated but unbothered by the weird atmosphere as he slams the door shut.

“Any issues here?” he asks, taking in the two loiterers. 

The men slowly backtrack, holding up their arms in pretend innocence. While the dark-haired one slips out the door, the blond man lingers. “No issue, no. Just had a question about your schedule.”

Max gives a dismissive wave of his hand and when the man is finally gone, he turns to you. “Were you rude to our customers?”

“They weren’t customers,” you say defensively, angry that he’d even assume something like that. “They were drunks.”

“Hmpf.” He gives the stranger another glance, still unimpressed, then grabs his bag from under the counter. “I’m off now. See you tomorrow. And hey, don’t forget to clean and lock up.”

“Yeah, see you,” you say, trying to swallow the lump of anger in your throat.

As soon as Max is gone, the stranger’s whole demeanour changes. His expression softens and he reaches out, his hand hovering right by your arm. 

“You are alright, little flower?” he asks.

You nod but it’s hard to fight off the tears. Situations like that make you feel helpless and you hate it. Being at the mercy of these men is frustrating, especially with a boss who just lets it slide instead of protecting his employees. You could have handled the situation, you tell yourself, you’ve had to handle so many similar ones before, but it just feels so incredibly good that someone cares.

“I think so,” you finally choke out. “I just… This is not uncommon and I’m so fed up.”

“I understand,” he says. “Did these men bother you before?”

“Yeah, but other people as well. Even Max treats me like a piece of meat just because I’m young.”

There is a hidden anger in his face, a barely noticeable clench of his jaw, his brow slightly pulled together. You’re not scared anymore, though. The menacing energy he exudes is directed at something else, not you, and you can’t bring yourself to wonder how he manages to command a room like that.

“Is it okay if I touch you?” he asks.

You nod and he reaches out, running a gloved hand up and down your arm in silent comfort. You take a step closer and he lifts his other hand as well, gently cradling your cheek. When a fat tear of anger falls from your eye he catches it, telling you it’s okay if you need to let it out. But you don’t cry, you don’t want to feel weak or fall into his arms like a sobbing child. Nevertheless, his comfort feels like a gentle hug, calming you so easily.

For a moment, he lets you breathe in the same air, a leather-clad thumb swiping over your cheekbone with a calming steadiness. You smile at him and he smiles back, so softly that not even the skull paint can hide the gentleness of his features.

“I have to clean up now,” you say. “Thank you for being here.”

He simply nods, slowly pulling away from you. Only when he’s gone and you smell a faint flowery scent do you notice that he’s tugged the rose from his jacket into your hair. You press it to your chest, right above your fluttering heart, and pray that he never stops coming back.

⛧ ✦ ⛧

Their blood tastes like shit. 

Not literally but it’s by far the worst he’s had in a while, certainly worse than that of the cleaning lady he’s been feeding on last month. Admittedly, he did not consider that losing her would prompt your boss to just make you work longer. At the time she was just an easy victim on his way home, sweet young blood that was easy to obtain, the blue veins shining through her pale skin like they were begging to be used. But as he cleans his jaw with a handkerchief, Primo thinks that perhaps he can linger after the movies now. Any more time with you, however long, is of immeasurable value to him.

A groan. Primo looks down at the man, the blond stronzo who tried to touch you. He feels no sympathy, no reluctance. Full moon rolls around in three weeks and if they happen to die before then… well, bad luck for his partner. Though he can’t say he’s very tempted to drink from them again with all the junk in their blood – cheap alcohol, so much nicotine and other poisons. Perhaps he should just end it now, they’re at his mercy in any case. But no, they deserve to be punished for what they did and he knows bleeding out is not a very painful death.

Primo is not a cruel man, he likes to think. The nature of his being prompts him to act cruelly sometimes for self-preservation but unlike some of his fellows he finds no enjoyment in the kill. Not anymore, not after his initial lust for blood was quenched centuries ago. Nevertheless, he has to admit that his obsession with you is testing those limits in ways he’s never felt before. For you, he thinks, he could turn into a killer.

A gurgle. The second man is starting to wake up and Primo decides to leave. He placed the wounds in unobtrusive spots, never using both fangs to puncture their skin, too obvious. They’re going to think they’re hungover and move on but he’s going to find them again, slowly drain them until the next full moon is here and they’ll find their demise in a different way.

Primo is not a killer, no, but he chooses the killer’s victims.

⛧ ✦ ⛧

Now

You’re frozen in your spot amongst the thicket, branches and rocks digging into your body, the throbbing pain in your arm slowly spreading out. The sight before you is absurd. A giant dead body, a monster, a… a werewolf? You can’t bring yourself to properly think the word and yet you know that’s what it is. Not that it matters anymore. The smell of death mixes in with the earthy scent of the woods and spreads out in the air around you. The second figure hovers above the body for as long as it takes you to gather your thoughts. Why, you cannot tell. Are they shocked by their actions? Making sure the creature is really dead? There seems to be a hesitation in their every movement as they slowly back away and move into your direction, their frame blurring with the surrounding darkness.

“Stand back,” you yell. “Don’t come closer!”

Your voice is high-pitched, unrecognisable in its trembling state, hoarse from screaming into the emptiness around you. Your fear has your senses heightened and every snap of a twig, every howl of the wind makes you flinch. The being before you now is smaller than the one before, human-shaped if your eyes don’t betray you. The canopy is so thick here, the trees surrounding you so close to one another that you struggle to see anything. And yet you can feel them moving.

“Stop,” you yell again. “Fucking stop!”

A sudden sliver of light catches their face and you can see two glowing eyes, the one that you know as a deep green shimmering red like it did in the lobby of the theatre the night the two men harassed you and the other one is still as white as bone. “It’s okay, fiore mio. You’re safe now,” he says and you immediately recognize the Italian accent, the nickname. “I’m here to help you.” 

You slump in on yourself, not quite relieved but still a little calmer.

It’s him. It’s your stranger.

⛧ ✦ ⛧

Two weeks ago

“It’s nothing personal,” Max says. “But I’m losing money here.”

You nod like you understand. You do understand, just not why it has to be now of all times, so close to when you would have been done anyway. A few more months.

“Just not enough people coming in,” he continues. “And the old guy doesn’t pay that much no matter how often you flirt him up.”

Again, all you can do is nod. Your boss wants to cancel the night showings and lay you off. Supposedly, no other shifts are in need of any more people and he can’t keep you on. It’s a cheap excuse, you know it is.

“So, I’m off then,” he says. “You can manage on your own one last time, right?”

You nod at him once again, watching him whistling a merry tune and twirling his keys on a finger on his way out. The tears come only after you hear his car driving off. You have no idea how to find another weekend job for the next few months and the sheer surprise of his decision has your stomach in knots. If he’d at least given you some time to prepare…

“Buonasera, fiore. Can I… uhm…” You look up into the stranger’s eyes, trying to wipe at your tears but it’s too late, his expression has already changed into what you can only assume is pity. “Scusi, is this a bad time? Can I help you, perhaps?”

“I’m so sorry… I just… Ugh, Max wants to cancel the late night screenings,” you explain, swallowing around the lump in your throat. “I guess this is our last night here.”

“Cancel?”

You sniffle, your voice scratchy when you speak next. “Well, as you may have noticed, you’re kind of our only guest.”

The stranger takes your hand, soft leather pulling you from the desk and towards one of the run-down couches in the waiting area. He’s so gentle when he beckons you to his side, never letting go of your hand.

“He wants to fire you, sì?” 

You nod, staring at your intertwined hands against the velvet upholstering of the couch. His thumb draws lazy circles into your skin, his hand so big it almost swallows yours. You want him to swallow you as well, his whole body wrapped around yours, engulfing you with his safety – but you’re not sure that you could ask him for a hug.

“I’m sorry, it’s really not your problem. I mean, you’ll lose your weekend activities but I’m sure you can just get Netflix or something.”

“Netflix?”

You look up with a smile. “Or… I don’t know, buy a DVD.”

The stranger smiles back, squeezing your hand just a little bit tighter. “Now, my little flower, do you really think I am just here for the movies?”

When your eyes meet it’s like you’re sucked into a vacuum. You don’t know whether to focus on his white iris or the burning need that’s visible in his green eye. The decision is taken from you when he leans in and captures your mouth in a kiss. You reciprocate without hesitation and yet he’s holding back, a suppressed moan bubbling in his throat, despite the tenderness of his lips. It’s not enough, not nearly enough. You press against him, opening your lips for him, and then the moan finally spills out as his tongue vibrates against yours. His free hand pushes into your hair and settles at the back of your head, angling your face in whichever way he wants to taste you. His lips feel surprisingly cold just like his cheek as you bring a hand up to touch him. The makeup smears under your fingers, at your jaw, mingling with your spit.

And yet it’s not enough, not until you’re half in his lap, until his hands roam your body with reverent desperation, searching, exploring. The kiss never loses momentum. He sucks in a breath and you push your tongue into his mouth, running it along his upper lip until you can feel his teeth. You frown into the kiss when you feel something pointy, pulling your tongue back, but there is no time to think before he sucks at your bottom lip. A sharp sting as he punctures your flesh with his teeth. He moans as the taste of your blood settles between your joined lips, sucking whatever he can into his mouth. You allow him to drink you in, offering yourself up in a way you haven’t done with anyone else before.

There is a moment in which you think, hope, that it never ends. But then he pulls away and you gasp for air. You stare at him, traces of red blood fuzing into the grey smears around his mouth. He’s a mess, equal to how you feel, but his eyes are focused, his gaze sharp.

“Do you want to see the movie?” you ask, hoping he’ll say no, hoping he’ll just take you away.

But he just chuckles, his hands slowly disappearing from your body until you slump into the soft cushions on the couch.

“Actually, I think I have to leave early tonight,” he says. “I will see you next week, fiore mio. Please, per favore, do not worry about your job, I will set things right.”

You want to ask what he means, if he’s going to talk to Max for you, but before you realise that he’s leaving, before you even finish blinking, he’s already gone. Furrowing your brow, you walk outside and enter a clear moonless night. Your flushed face soaks up the cool air and you look around, searching feverishly, but there is no sign of your stranger. You expect to see him along the sidewalk, perhaps he’s in one of the cars getting ready, but even after a few more minutes none of them roar to life. Nothing disrupts the soft silence of your sleeping small town and you shake your head in wonder as you make your way back inside, the metallic taste of your blood still lingering on your tongue.

⛧ ✦ ⛧

Primo is livid, furious in a way that he hasn’t felt in close to a hundred years. You are not part of their deal and yet this feels like a violation of conduct. Making you cry should be a criminal offense and he wants him to pay for it, in what currency Primo is not sure yet. He knows he can’t let his anger win but when he smells the creature from two streets away, even in his human form, he’s ready to sink his teeth into his throat. And of course he finds him in a nearby bar, nursing a beer while he watches football videos on his phone without a care in the world.

“You won’t fire them,” Primo spits out.

Max looks up in pretend confusion. “Huh?”

“You heard me, stronzo.”

“Your little flower?” He pouts, mocking him, then huffs out a laugh. “It’s business, man.”

“The job is important,” Primo says calmly, trying not to get too riled up. “A few more months.”

“Cry me a river. Just do with them what you want, fuck them, suck them dry. Whatever gets your blood pumping, Count Dracula.” A sardonic smirk. “Oh oops, I forgot.”

Primo won’t be provoked, not from the likes of him. “You’ll give them time,” he says calmly. “Or I have to rethink this… agreement.”

Max sighs in annoyance. “Fine. A little longer. And don’t think I haven’t smelled you on those two assholes yet. I only get to feast once a month and I expect the vampire to have better taste, that’s why I agreed to this in the first place.”

“I do have taste,” Primo says. “And we both know that’s not the reason or why are you sitting here all alone, lupetto, eh?”

Max snarls but says nothing to this painful reminder. Primo doesn’t feel bad. Their agreement serves the sole purpose of attracting less attention and would not work if Max wasn’t an outcast. Their solitariness saves them and keeps their peace intact. For now.

Primo leaves with an aching heart, hoping the werewolf stays true to his word. He comes back to the cinema only to see that you got done in the meantime and left. It’s not like he actually planned to continue what you started earlier but he really wants to catch another glimpse of you, see how you’re feeling after what happened.

He finds you two streets away, hurrying home even faster than usual. You’re scared, he can tell immediately as he hears your rapid heartbeat, the blood rushing through your body like a raging river. Since the two men tried to corner you you’ve been especially on edge. He knows it’s because you expect them to try again and he wishes he could tell you that they won’t, that he’s watching over you, that he’s been slowly draining them ever since despite the awful taste of their blood. He can handle it, he can handle anything if it’s for you. 

Only for you. 

Primo relaxes after he sees you closing the door to your apartment and your heartbeat slows down. That’s when he leaves – always. He’s promised himself that he never lingers, that he doesn’t stalk or overstep, only makes sure you get home safely after your shifts. Tonight, it’s harder to leave. He can still taste you on his tongue and what a taste it is. Never before has he savoured blood quite so sweet, quite so rich in aroma, and the violent hunger inside of him tries to keep him by your house for more. 

But the kiss was a mistake to begin with and he’s not sure yet how to proceed because he never expected you to respond quite so enthusiastically to his advances. Of course he could immediately tell that you wanted him, the smell and taste of your excitement so overpowering that it cut off any reasonable thought while it happened. He hasn’t lost control of himself like that in over two hundred years and now he set things in motion that may cost him this precious connection that he has with you if he’s not careful.

For now, however, he allows himself this small pleasure and lets the happy, giddy feeling settle in his hollow chest. If he wasn’t aware that he was a few centuries old he would promptly assume that he’s a lovestruck teenager. And he could get used to it, he realises, because with you he’s quite ready to start this empty life all over again and fill it with everything that he’s been missing.

⛧ ✦ ⛧

Now

“You’re a vampire,” you state, twigs and stones digging into your butt but you feel to weak to stand up.

The stranger approaches you slowly like you’re a wild animal he’s trying to tame, the roles reversed now in your agitation and his calmness. “I am, sì.”

The urge to back away, to run for your life, continues to simmer in your belly but you fight it because you know there is no escape now. You want to trust him but you feel like you’re in a fever dream. It has to be a hallucination, maybe you were drugged at work today, maybe you inhaled the fume of some rare mushroom when you fell.

Your eyes meet the dead creature again. “Is he-”

“Yes, Max is dead.”

“Max?” Your shrill voice betrays your shock. “My boss?”

“Yes.” He sounds oddly calm, not like he just killed a werewolf. “Please, allow me to take you home with me.”

“Home? Your home?”

“Yes, my little flower. I want to look at your scrapes and cuts. Allow me, please.”

You hesitate, even as you see the shape of his outstretched hand, the same black leather gloves now ripped and torn, revealing slivers of his pale skin.

“I understand you don’t… trust me,” he says. “But I promise, I will explain everything to you in as much detail as you want and then you can decide for yourself. I just want to make sure you are okay first.”

You swallow, your throat still painfully sore from screaming. “Are you going to… I don’t know, drink from me? Eat me?”

“I will not eat you. And I will not drink from you either,” he says. “All I want is to look after you.”

You suck in a deep breath, ready to collapse on the forest floor. He could lure you into a trap, he could have been plotting this for weeks now, and yet you still feel the butterflies in your belly stirring at the sound of his voice, your body aching to be with his, even now in its weak state. Reluctantly, you place your mud-smeared hand in his and when he lifts you up with ease, his arms wrap around you tightly. You have no strength to lift your arms but you let him hug you anyway, slumping against his frame.

And perhaps you’ve lost your mind. Perhaps you should use the opportunity to kick him, to fight, but instead you start to sob into his shoulder. The world you thought you knew comes crashing down around you and he holds you through it, whispering that it’s going to be alright.

⛧ ✦ ⛧

One week ago

You can’t stop thinking about him.

The week passes slowly but you do get a text message from Max telling you he’s extending your employment for as long as it takes you to find a new job. You have no idea how your stranger convinced him but you never wanted to get back to work so urgently before – to thank him, to ask if there is a chance that you could see him outside of this place. 

Any thought you can spare is spent thinking back to your kiss, extending it in your mind for hours and hours, exploring the fantasy alone in your bed at night with your hand between your legs. You ignore any of the worries that this intimate moment conjured up. So what if the stranger has a bit of a blood kink and conveniently sharp teeth? You certainly don’t mind doing it again. He can bite you wherever he wants, you realise, and you’d gladly let him suck on the wound.

He’s back Friday night and you can’t help but feel relieved that he’s not ghosting you after his sudden disappearance last week. Maybe it’s because of your intense crush on him but you swear he looks more beautiful tonight than ever before. His long blond hair is shiny and smooth as it falls into his face, the paint more pristine than usual. He’s wearing his usual black slacks but today he paired it with a deep red shirt under a black tailcoat with a red pattern of embroidered roses. His tall, slender frame leans against the counter as he regards you with a smile.

“So, what am I watching tonight?” he asks.

“Hitchcock,” you say. “The Birds. Max is a big fan.”

“Hm, I haven’t watched that one since it premiered,” he says and then he removes his gloves. You watch as he slides his now bare hand over the counter until it touches yours. 

“Well, I’m afraid I wasn’t born yet back then.”

“No, fiore.” He runs his thumb over the back of your hand. His skin is cold and pale and wrinkly, the lines and bumps revealing a map of his life that you can’t wait to explore. His long fingers slide under yours, surprisingly sharp black nails raking over your palm until he holds you comfortably. They look almost manicured, his hand dwarfing yours as he closes it. “You’re such a young thing and yet our souls have found such a deep connection, no?”

You gaze into his mismatched eyes, a fondness in them that makes your heart beat faster. As if he can feel it, the corners of his painted mouth curl upwards into a smirk until you can see the crow’s feet under his eyes deepen despite the dark paint. 

“Yes,” you finally say. “Actually, I was wondering if maybe you’d like to–”

You’re interrupted by the door to the backroom opening. You jump, pulling your hand from his as you see Max casting you a curious glance. He’s been in a bad mood all evening so you’re not taking any risks tonight.

You cough. “Ugh, here’s your ticket, sir. Enjoy the movie.”

The stranger doesn’t seem offended by your reaction. Instead he smiles at you, accepting the ticket from your shaky hand. “Grazie, fiore. I will let you know if I enjoyed it.”

As he leaves for the screening room he doesn’t even look at Max. You remain frozen behind the counter, watching his elegant form with a rapidly beating heart. Mindlessly clenching the hand he just held in his, you desperately hope you get to ask your question later.

⛧ ✦ ⛧

The werewolf won’t leave earlier tonight. As he lets the movie run in the background, only vaguely paying attention, Primo listens for any signs. It looks like he has to sit it out today, though, even as his patience slowly wears thin. One more week until full moon, so Max must be getting antsy, and Primo made sure to keep the prey alive despite his protests in the bar. Every time he feeds from them, he is tempted to bite into an artery instead of a vein, watch them bleed out, not even drinking their blood. But having Max go hungry will piss him off and since he is already aware of you, Primo can’t risk not providing him with any easier targets.

After the movie concludes, Primo lingers but he doesn’t spot you in the foyer. When Max finally heads out he sees no reason not to look for you and conveniently, the only place you could be at is especially private.

The backroom houses a tiny kitchenette and two desks for computers with displays that are already black. You’re standing in front of the open door of a supply closet to gather your cleaning materials when he approaches soundlessly.

“Don’t be scared,” he says from a safe distance. “It is just me, fiore.”

You spin around, your beautiful face lighting up at the sight of him. “Oh, hello.”

“I owe you the money for the ticket,” he says. “You never gave me a chance to pay.”

“Oh. Yes. Sorry… It’s not… I’m not embarrassed or anything, it’s just that Max…”

“Oh, it is quite alright, fiore mio, I know.”

A grateful smile. You don’t flinch when he steps in front of you, taking your hand in his to press a soft kiss to your palm. How lovely you are, Primo thinks, a pure, honest sort of beauty that he doesn’t deserve but wants with every fibre of his ancient being. He could show you a whole new world of pleasure and he knows it’s always the quiet ones who are so proficient in the art of sin. 

“I was hoping I would have some more time with you,” you say and he perks up.

“Were you?”

“The kiss…” A hint of red dusting your cheeks as you fiddle with the hem of your shirt. “I really enjoyed it.”

Primo can’t help but smile. “Me too, my little flower. Perhaps we should try it again?”

He can hear your heartbeat quickening at his words, can feel your skin heating up with the rush of your blood. Even now he is surprised by the evidence of your returned affections, struck by how perfect you are for him, your trust just another sign of hope that you can find it in you to love him back if he allows you to.

“Just tell me if you want me to stop,” he says and then he effortlessly pulls you into his arms. To his surprise, you kiss him first, standing on your tiptoes and melting into his body. Your mouth is insistent, soft and sweet and so eager for him. Primo’s hands explore the shape of your body, memorising your curves for eternity. Impatient now, he pulls you over to the kitchenette that consists of nothing but a mirror over a sink with a few cupboards housing a coffee machine and snacks. There is enough space for what he’s planning to do, though, and he grabs you tightly before he removes his tongue from your mouth.

He can’t see his own image in the old silvered mirror as he hoists you up but he can see the dips of his fingers in your ass as it hits the counter. You hold onto his shoulders as he kisses down your jaw and chin. He skips your neck, skips the temptation, and drags his mouth down your chest instead, ripping the button of your shirt open as he goes. No complaint leaves your lips, only soft gasps and tiny whimpers. Primo pauses to pull at his gloves and then at your pants and then at your underwear, impatient, urgent, until he can finally feel your hot skin burning against his fingertips. Goosebumps form where his cold hands touch you and you shiver against his palms.

“Please,” you whisper. “Please.”

He knows what you’re begging for and under different circumstances he might make you beg  until your voice gives out but with the smell of your arousal in his nose there is really no way he can hold back now. His hands on your hips pull you to the edge of the counter and he kneels between your thighs, placing two open-mouthed kisses that leave blotchy grey marks. Your eyes are half-lidded, hazy with lust as he gazes up at you and that’s enough to break his resolve. As he wraps his lips around your most sensitive spot, sucking gently, your head lolls back in pleasure. You’re so hot, so sensitive, reacting to even the softest of stimulations, and it’s addicting in ways he hadn’t thought possible.

You cling to the edge of the counter as his mouth works on you with violent passion, urging you higher and higher with his lips and his tongue, carefully avoiding his teeth. The taste of your arousal is so intoxicating that he can’t stop himself from moaning and he can feel a shudder tearing through your body. Primo increases his pace and you move your hips as well, following his rhythm and chasing your pleasure without shame.

You cum with a scream. Your hand digs into his hair, tugging, holding on with surprising force and it’s the most delicious pain he’s ever felt. He runs his fingers through your cum, licking them clean with a soft hum as he tastes you once again. But he needs more, he needs so much more–

“Do you want to come home with me?” you ask breathlessly as he gets up from his knees, the pain in his joints distracting him momentarily. “Spend the rest of the night?”

He looks at you in surprise but then a soft smile forms on his face. You’re so eager, so fearless. “You should be careful who you invite into your home,” he says. “You may find yourself hosting guests other’s would not deem welcome.”

You huff out a laugh. “What, like the devil?”

A chuckle and he presses a kiss to your forehead, longing to feel your warm skin on his cool lips again. “I wish I could, fiorellino, but I’m afraid my schedule is a little different from yours.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means we have to do this another time,” he explains, despite the painful tightness in his pants. “Preferably, I want to invite you to dinner. I don’t like that we did this in here, it is not very… classy. Maybe next Saturday?”

“Oh, okay sure,” you say, a hint of confusion crossing your face. “Of course.”

He stands to his full height, his frame towering above yours and it takes him every ounce of self-control not to just take you right here. You’re pliant, needy for him in ways he’s only ever dreamed of, and while it tempts him to no end he suddenly becomes painfully aware of his responsibility. He needs to get your full consent before he gives in to a possible relationship with you. But right now is not the moment to tell you what he is.

“This… this is not you turning me down, right?” you ask with wide, hopeful eyes.

“No,” he says, shaking his head. “Oh no, tesorino, this is just the start of what I want to do with you and now that I got a taste, I don’t think I will ever get enough.”

You smile, the bliss of your high still evident on your face, and he rubs your thighs in small circles for a moment, the softness of your skin a gentle reminder of how fragile you are. Primo leans in to kiss you and fights a grin when you lick into his mouth to taste yourself. Maybe not so fragile, he thinks, maybe your hunger matches his after all.

“I will see you next Saturday, fiore mio,” he says. “I’ll be here to pick you up and we can dine at my home.”

You nod tiredly and he feels bad for leaving you like this after what just transpired. He can smell your cum on his fingers even as he waits for you to finish work and probably will for the next few days. But Primo needs to collect his thoughts. This is the start of something big, something messy, and now that he tampered with the forces there is no going back. The regret that comes with it is excruciating. He can invite you to dinner, treat you like you’re the stars in the night sky, make love to you until you both pass out in exhausted bliss – but it won’t change what he is. And what he is might scare you off. The thought pains him but he tries to cling to the small shimmering light of hope inside his heart that perhaps you can accept him.

Until he figures out the logistics of having you over for dinner without giving you the scare of a lifetime, he decides to keep away from you. The temptation is too strong now, his need, his hunger, a quickly expanding black-hole inside of him that might eat you alive if he’s not careful. 

His resolve is strong, he tells himself, and it remains strong all week. Well, that is until he sees you running into the woods a mere day before your date, chased by a starving werewolf.

⛧ ✦ ⛧

Now

He lives in the old castle at the edge of town.

It really shouldn’t come as a surprise but as he carries you through candle-lit hallways and multiple small chambers, old is the last thing that comes to your mind. Everything looks well-kept, orderly, the old-fashioned style of his attire translating to the interior as well. You never stay in any room for too long, the castle so big that you have to climb several staircases until you reach another long hallway. Several men in black hooded robes that look like monk’s habits pass you on your way. They don’t turn into your direction as you pass, some of them carry books, some carry laundry.

“Who are these men?” you ask.

“They’re my ghouls.”

“Ghouls?”

“Mhm.”

You don’t ask any further questions but cling to your stranger’s neck even though there is no need to. You’re safe in his arms, his strength limitless, and he does not seem tired even as you finally enter a chamber that appears to be his bedroom. Big arched windows make up one whole wall of the room and a double glass door that seems to lead to a balcony. The only light source is the full moon outside, casting milky white rays through the old windows. A huge wooden bed with silky white sheets dominates the room from the centre, most of the old hardwood flooring covered by a burgundy rug with a floral pattern, two chests of drawers lining the opposite wall as well as a desk covered in what seems to be his correspondence.

“You’re safe here, my flower,” he says as he sets you down on the bed. “I promise.”

You sit, watch him as he kneels down beside you. His face is nothing but kind, so full of concern and affection, but you can’t help but feel out of place. Knowing what he is now, while it doesn’t change the core of your feelings, still circles in your mind and you have to fight your disbelief.

“You still hesitate?” he asks.

“Are you reading my mind?”

“No, fiore, I do no such thing.” He takes your hand, covering it with his broad ones. “I would not abuse your trust, even if I could. And we have trust, no?”

“I feel like I can trust you,” you admit, tears of overwhelm pricking your eyes. “But I don’t really know anything about you. I don’t even know your name.”

“Primo.”

You exhale and let the word roll off your tongue. “Primo.”

He smiles at the sound of it, a soft, recognising smile, as if he hasn’t been called by that name in a long time. “All I ask is that you let me look after you right now, sì? I will explain and we can talk in depth later, amore.”

“Amore?”

His brow softens, giving his smile a sad quality. “My affections for you have not changed. Though I do fear that yours might have.”

You shake your head at him but before you can say anything profound, two of the black hooded ghouls enter the room. Another one joins right after, rolling a big copper bathtub inside, and you don’t even question their magic when they lift their arms and the tub fills with water. One of the other ghouls lifts his hands as well and suddenly the water starts to steam. The third ghoul places a piece of soap and a washcloth on a nearby stool, then hangs a soft-looking cotton bathrobe over the edge before they all leave without uttering a single word.

Primo helps you out of your shirt and you gasp when you see the blood covering your forearm. The bleeding has stopped but the scrape is still burning, the pain a distant throb. When he sees it, his gaze hardens but he just leads you to stand without any commentary, helping you undress, radiating tension and concern.

“It is okay that I am here?” he asks when he sees you unbutton your pants.

You nod in reply. After everything that happened you can’t say that you feel very embarrassed being naked in front of him and you feel safer in his presence, safer when he helps you. 

The water is scalding and you have to take a moment to get used to it before you can fully let the heat ease the tension you hadn’t even noticed before. Primo pulls up a chair, sitting right by your head, and picks up the cloth. You watch his brow furrow in concentration when he cleans your cuts and scrapes and his eyes meet yours a few times throughout, gazing at you with barely hidden hope. You want to tell him that your feelings are the same, if not stronger, but you can’t find it in you to disturb the silence with anything other than the occasional hiss when he touches a painful spot. It feels too fresh still, too many uncertainties plaguing your mind.

Once you’re clean and the water has cooled significantly, Primo helps you out and immediately wraps the soft cotton robe around you. As you sit back down on the bed, he walks over to his desk and fetches a small brown leather bag. Inside, you find multiple small vials in different colours and an antiseptic that looks just like any modern ones. He uses a cotton pad to clean out your wound before he grabs one of the small bottles, holding it out for you to see.

“Let me apply this to your cut,” he says. “It’s a tonic, it will help you heal.”

You roll up your sleeve to grant him access. “So, are you a healer of some sort?”

“Well, I am more of a pharmacist.” He chuckles and lets a small amount of the white liquid drop onto your arm. “Not a doctor.”

“It feels good,” you admit, the cool tincture sticks to your wound, easing the pain.

Primo smiles and wraps a bandage around your arm, tight but not too tight, like he’s done it a hundred times before. You can’t help but stare at him, his eyes and his whole face so beautiful and mesmerising, barely hiding his emotions in the depths of his features. When he catches your gaze, he tugs his hair behind his ear like he’s flustered and you spot a small cut above his left brow.

“He got you as well,” you say, grabbing a new cotton pad and reaching out for his face.

“It’s nothing, it will be gone within the hour,” he replies but he still lets you clean the scratch with careful dabs. “I suppose that I am not as powerful as I need to be to truly protect you.”

“What do you mean? You seemed very powerful to me earlier.”

“I am not ugh… how do you say? In my best years.”

You furrow your brow. “I always thought vampires stayed young forever.”

“Well, you see, I was turned well into my old age. I am not as strong and agile as someone who is born with it or turned earlier in their life,” he explains. “Usually, vampires do not like old blood, they prefer the young and healthy. But mine was… very hungry and very cruel.”

You lean over and press a kiss to his shoulder. “Is it painful to talk about this?”

“No, fiore mio, this was many centuries ago.” He regards you with caution, letting his eyes roam your body for a moment. “Do you feel better?”

“I do.” You reach out for his hand again, fiddling with his long, spindly fingers. “So are we… I mean, do you want me to stay here?”

“Yes, I do.” 

“But we won’t…”

“No, I will not touch you intimately again before we speak,” he says, squeezing your fingers. “But perhaps you need some rest before we do. You can sleep in my bed, amore. The sheets are fresh.”

The exhaustion is too strong to fight for much longer, he’s right in that, and you crawl under the sheets, careful not to strain your arm. The silky material feels cool and soft against your skin but you keep the robe on for some warmth. Primo sits by your side, watching you with the fascination of a scientist observing the bacteria in his petri dish. You wonder when he last spent time with a human like this, if he was ever intimate with a human before, but that is a question for another time.

Instead you smile at him. “Do you want to join me? Or do vampires not rest?”

“Are you sure you want me to?”

“I would really like you to hold me,” you admit.

He visibly fights off a happy smile as he rounds the bed, shedding his clothes until he’s only in his pants and his white frilly shirt. Hesitating at the edge of the bed he pulls off the shirt as well and you can’t help but stare as he reveals his pale chest to you, speckled with light grey hair that runs all the way down to his waistband. He’s slender, bony around his ribs but with muscular shoulders and a soft belly, his slightly saggy skin the only real sign of his body’s physical age. You wonder how long he has now looked exactly like that. Centuries he’d said but that is a surreal thought you don’t quite grasp.

When he finally joins you in bed, you sink into his embrace, feeling his cool skin against your cheek as you rest your head on his chest. It’s odd, the quiet, the lack of a heartbeat, but with his fingers running along your spine, his nails scratching softly against your skin, you’re lulled to sleep in no time.

⛧ ✦ ⛧

You wake up in cold sweat – and alone. The bed is empty but you immediately spot Primo with a glance through the wide arched windows. He’s right outside the now open double doors you saw earlier, wearing a heavy, dark red robe, his blond hair softly swaying in the wind. You rise from the silken sheets and grab his wide shirt that lies as a puddle on the floor. The frills cover your hands when you slip it on and it’s long enough to cover you, his smell still clinging to the fabric and tickling your nose as you breathe in the fresh night air. 

The doors don’t lead to a balcony like you initially assumed but to a small garden, surrounded by the castle walls and illuminated by the full moon. You have no idea how long you slept but it seems to be the middle of the night. You don’t take the time to fully admire the garden, instead wrapping your arms around Primo and burying your face in his back.

“Oh fiore, did I wake you?” he asks, covering your hands with his.

“No,” you whisper. “I’m not tired anymore.”

“Come here.”

He wraps you up in his robe, pressing you tightly to his chest. You feel his lips ghosting over your forehead, then he presses them more firmly to your temple. His skin feels smooth and you turn your head enough to take in the surrounding area.

“What were you admiring?” you ask, your eyes caught on a plant that’s blooming despite the lack of daylight, long white blossoms opening themselves towards the night sky.

“Datura,” Primo explains. “They call it the devil’s trumpet. Highly poisonous. Many night-blooming plants are but of course they offer more to see to me than others.”

You smile. “The rose you gave me, was it from your garden as well?”

“Yes.”

He hugs you tighter and the pressure on your arm brings back enough pain to make you hiss in surprise. Primo tenses and you look up, only to find him staring at you with his brows drawn together. His anger isn’t directed at you and yet you feel a hint of anxiety. You know you won’t like the conversation you’re stearing towards.

“It’s my fault,” he says. “You’re hurt because of me.”

You raise a hand to his cheek. “No, no, it’s not. He attacked me.”

“But he attacked you because of my carelessness,” Primo says, leaning into your touch but avoiding your gaze. “I marked you. When we first kissed, I bit your lip and marked you.”

“Marked me for what?”

He swallows as his eyes finally meet yours. “We had an agreement.”

“An agreement? To… to kill people?”

“No, I don’t do the killing,” Primo says. “It is not my style. I am too old for carnage, amore. Or at least I thought I was.”

You furrow your brow, his explanation not helping you understand what he means. “So what is the whole deal with Max?”

“He was a werewolf,” Primo explains. “We ugh… we had this pact, I want to say. My victims, I don’t kill them, I just drink what I need and he… he gets the rest. He can smell me on them, so he knows who to target once he turns and loses most of his rational thinking. When I bit your lip, I must have marked you without my intent.”

You feel your blood rushing through your body now. “So what, he kills your victims?”

“He eats them, sì.”

“So the guys who…” You swallow hard, balling your hands to fists against his chest. “The guys who harassed me who never came back, the cleaner who disappeared… did you…��

“I never said I am innocent. But I did not kill them.” He takes your hand, softly uncurls your fingers before he looks at you with so much sadness that your heart shatters in your chest. “I understand if you don’t want anything to do with me anymore now. I know it is a lifestyle you have to condemn but it is the only way I survive.”

You feel tears welling in your eyes, uncertain whether you can accept the man you love harming other people like this. Of course it keeps him alive but handing them over to be killed is not very different from actually killing them. There has to be a different way, a way without murder.

“If we… if we were together… could you just drink from me instead?” you ask. “No more innocent people?”

“Have you ever donated blood, fiore? They will not let you give it too often, half a litre every three months.” He pauses, smiling sadly as he squeezes your hand. “That is to say… you do not produce blood fast enough. I would either starve or kill you.”

“But you could drink from me? And perhaps a bit from someone else and no one has to die?”

He nods. “I can but you might not like it, you might regret agreeing to this.”

“Try me.”

Primo furrows his brow. “Try you?”

“Show me what it’s like. How does it work? You bite my neck and suck?”

He shakes his head. “I will puncture your vein and drink until the bleeding stops.”

“You won’t suck?”

“Not when it’s you. I will just drink what spills out,” he explains. “Sucking would make the wound very bad, it would hurt you more, even though it is faster and gives me more of you.”

“It’s… it’s okay if you want to suck,” you say. “I want you to do it to satisfy you.”

“No, not this time, but thank you, amore.” A deep sigh as he relents to your request. “Va bene, but if we try this we have to go inside.”

Primo calls one of the ghouls as you settle back in bed and tells him to get you some fruit and a sweet drink for later. You’re buzzing, partly with anxiety but partly with sheer excitement. You remember the intense pleasure you felt when he bit your lip and wonder if this is going to be a similar experience.

As soon as the ghoul is gone again, Primo settles in bed behind you, ridding you of your robe and pulling you between his legs as soon as you are naked. You hold onto his thighs, the fabric of his black slacks rough against your palms.

“I will stop if you tell me to,” he whispers against your ear. “We go easy, I will not drink too much, yes?”

“Yes.” 

You sink against his solid chest, unclenching your muscles. His fingers run along your neck, brushing any stray hairs aside and gently positioning your head how he wants it. A moment passes before you feel his lips trailing over the exposed skin, pressing soft kisses to the tendon at your neck that make you shiver.

“Relax,” he mumbles. “No sudden movements, amore.”

You try your best to follow. Primo positions his mouth so very carefully that you almost anticipate the bite. His fangs poke at your skin and he gently increases the pressure until you can feel them puncturing it. The pain is not unexpected but you’re still surprised by the impact, moaning softly. His hands grab at your thighs, a deep groan leaving his throat that vibrates against your skin. You can hardly feel the blood leaving you with how tightly his mouth is attached to the violated skin. At some point, you can feel his tongue swiping along the curve and his grip tightens, long fingers digging into your flesh.

The more he drinks, the more he’s stirring behind you and then he’s suddenly rutting against you in his chase for more friction. You can feel his hard cock against your lower back and you can’t help but grind back against him. Primo stops to moan, his hands roaming your form all the way over your hips and up to your chest. His cold fingers feel heavenly against your heated skin.

“I’m sorry,” he says breathlessly. “Drinking from your… from your love can be a very intense, intimate feeling.”

You hum in agreement and his tongue laps at your neck again, leaving a wet trail all the way from your shoulder to your ear before he attaches his mouth to the wound. He doesn’t drink for long before his hips buck again. Subconsciously, you follow the movements, gripping his thighs so tightly that your fingertips dig into the firm muscles.

“Can you feel it, fiore? Can you feel how our bodies long to become one?”

You only whimper in reply, your head lolling back onto his shoulder as a sick sort of pleasure tears through you, a throbbing need settling in your core.

“I want you,” he says, his voice resonating deep inside of you. “I want you, my love. Will you let me have you?”

“Please,” you whine.

His mouth leaves you altogether. The bleedings has mostly stopped, his spit and your blood cooling against your skin in the still brisk air. Primo slips out from beneath you, urgently pushing the red robe off his shoulders and his pants from his legs before his weight pushes you into the mattress. He settles between your legs, his now bare cock digging into your thigh, and you moan when his bare skin touches yours. He feels warmer now, not hot but definitely more… alive. 

“You are the most wonderful thing I have ever seen,” he says and it’s beautifully grotesque, those pretty words leaving such a feral creature after he just drank from you, his face still showing the evidence of his attack. 

Your heart clenches with unspoken love for him.

You lift your hand to his jaw, dark red blood dripping from his open mouth and onto your chest. He’s breathing heavily with his fangs bared to you, staring at you in wonder as you cradle his cheek and run your thumb over his skin. His eyes close and there is something so heartbreakingly intimate about the way he’s melting into your touch. A predator, a being who spent centuries on this earth, who hurt and fought and killed for you softens at the mere touch of your fingertips. You’ve never wanted anyone as much as you want him in this moment and you already know that you won’t hesitate to do whatever it takes to be his.

Primo shifts sideways, moving one of his hands between your legs. He probes at your entrance, slowly stretching you open until he can slide two of his fingers into you, careful not to hurt you with his sharp nails. You can see how hard he’s trying to hold back, every muscle in his face clenching. But he holds your gaze, watching your lips part as he curls his fingers, fucking into you until you’re whimpering with every thrust.

“Primo,” you whine.

He nods like understands your need for more but he doesn’t stop yet. Running your hand over his jaw you collect all the blood and spit around his mouth that you can get and reach down to find his hard cock. He gasps at the contact, more blood spilling from his lips and pooling between your bodies. You pump a few times, spreading the wetness, and he unravels, hips bucking into your hand as he moans.

“Please,” you whisper. “Please don’t hold back.”

His pupils dilate and he removes his fingers from you, gathering more blood from your chest to spread on his cock. He aligns himself and slowly pushes in, watching as he his length disappears inside of you. The stretch is incredible. You keen when he bottoms out, one of your hands fisting his hair and then he finally kisses you. The metallic taste of your blood startles you at first but then you can’t help but want more of it, pushing your tongue into his mouth. Primo won’t indulge you for long before you can feel him losing his restraint, battling for dominance over your mouth. He sucks at your tongue as his hips start to move, slow thrusts at first but he quickly loses patience. 

His mouth slips from yours as he speeds up, leaving a mess of drool, face paint and cooling blood behind. He drives himself into you without holding back, just like you wanted, his gasps and moans filling your ears over the sound of his wet skin meeting yours. You tug at his hair, wrapping your legs tightly around him to get even closer, spreading the blood all over your bodies. Primo nibbles at your jaw, not breaking the skin but running his teeth along the edge before they settle at your neck again.

“I want more,” he growls against your skin. “I need more, amore mio, please. J-just a little bit.”

In reply, you angle your head to expose your neck to him. He immediately latches on, sucking the wound back open. He was right, it hurts more this time and perhaps it’s a figment of your imagination but you can feel your blood rushing out of you in a way that is dizzying, intoxicating. Everything feels more intense now, the deep thrusts, his sharp nails digging into your flesh, the throaty moans in your ear as he drinks.

You clench around him and the orgasm hits you without warning. You cry out in pleasure, raking your nails down his back as you ride out your high with a few rolls of your hips. Primo falters, his hips stuttering into yours as he approaches his own release. His mouth leaves your neck with a pop and he pants desperately. You’re overcome with emotion when you hear his needy sounds, when you feel him twitching inside of you, so close to letting go. The last few drops of your warm blood run down your clavicle as the wound slowly closes, stopping right at your heart.

“I love you,” you breathe. “I love you, Primo.”

He shudders, his cock jumping wildly inside of you before he freezes, spilling his seed with a deep, drawn-out groan. You hold him through his high, stroking his hair and back. He gives two more slow pumps, drawing out your pleasure until he collapses on top of you.

“I love you, fiore,” he mumbles, then he props himself up on his elbow, staring into your eyes. “I love you.”

A surprisingly gentle kiss. A hand caressing your wet cheeks. Primo rolls you onto your sides and you can feel your mingled cum, blood and sweat glueing your bodies together. It’s messy and sticky but you’re not ready to let him go either. His gaze falls to your bruised neck and he frowns, grazing the skin with his thumb until you groan in pain.

Primo shakes his head in displeasure. “I am sorry, amore. I made it worse.”

“It’s okay,” you assure him. “I wanted it, my love, and I have no regrets.”

“Are you sure?” he asks. “You want all this, fiore? You want this old man?”

You take a deep, shaky breath, your lungs burning and your head still dizzy, but there is not a hint of doubt in your mind. “I want you and all that comes with it. I’m not scared, Primo.”

“No, you’re quite fearless,” he agrees with a smile. “We will have to take care of your wound, clean up this mess, sì? But maybe we can wait a few more minutes, I am quite exhausted.”

You hum in agreement and pull him closer. He doesn’t object as his head comes to rest on your chest this time. The blood loss seems to register now because your vision starts to swim, and so you close your eyes for a moment to let the wave of dizziness pass. Your thoughts are jumbled, so many questions, so many things to consider.

“Primo?” you ask after a moment.

He hums. “Yes, fiore mio?”

“Will you ever turn me?” 

A scoff, bitter and sharp, like it’s the absurdest thing he’s ever heard. “No, amore, I will do no such thing.”

“But if I wanted you to?”

“No.”

You open your eyes to find him looking up at you and lift a hand to smooth out the stern crease on his brow. “We’ll have to talk about this.”

“No,” he says again, then buries his face in your neck with a deep hum, wrapping his arms around you tightly. A moment passes. Then another one and he seems to mull the thought over in his head. He sighs in defeat. “Maybe.”

“Maybe?”

“We will talk about it but not soon. We have many years to come before this ever matters.”

You’re satisfied with that for now, giggle when he presses a plethora of bloody kisses all over your neck and chest, and you can feel his smirk against your skin. You know he’s trying to distract you and it works. Your feelings for him flutter to live inside of you like a colony of bats and you breathe a kiss to his soft blond hair. As he falls asleep, he slowly exhales with his lips against your windpipe. You close your eyes and savour the feeling of his body wrapped around yours, thinking that if you’re lucky, this is a moment you’re going to remember for all of eternity.

Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed vampire primo – kudos, comments, rbs etc are as always much appreciated ♡

Read now Part 2: Friday Nights at the Vinothek | Vampire!Secondo x gn!reader

Masterlist – My Ao3

#vampire primo owns my heart #primo #papa emeritus i #papa emeritus x reader #primo x reader #papa emeritus i x reader #vampire primo #vamprimo #?? #papa emeritus i fanfiction #papa emeritus i smut #papa emeritus smut #papa emeritus fanfiction #the band ghost fanfiction #ghost fanfiction #mind the tags #my writing #petrifyingpapas #friday nights

[sihtricfedaraaahvicius]

warnings: mentions of/hints to past abuse.

pairing: Sihtric x you (f)

summary: Your brother, Uhtred, has just returned from his journey north, and he has brought back a shy but rather handsome Dane.

word count: 1,8k.

note: this was supposed to be a one-shot, but our boy really deserves all the love, so there will be at least another chapter.

You have my word.

Part 1. [part 2] [part 3]

You hate when he calls you that, but he had been gone for months and you were that happy he had returned safe, so you decided to not say anything this time.

'Brother!' you called out and ran towards Uhtred as he climbed off his horse.

'Little sister!' Uhtred smiled, and he embraced you.

You told him your name and the Dane looked up at you, nodded, and looked back down to his feet again.  You studied the Dane while Uhtred made a whole speech to him about how you were off limits, and that if he would try something with you, Uhtred would dismember him.

'Word had spread that there was some trouble with Kjartan's men?'

'Yes,' Uhtred said, 'we had some spies. But I killed them all. Except for that one,' he cocked his head towards a Dane, who was across the village's square, and you followed his eyes.

'You kept a hostage?'

'No, he's my servant.'

'So you got yourself a pet then?'

'No, I will train him to be a warrior, I have a feeling he might be good eventually.'

'Brother,' you sighed, 'how do you know he will not betray you?'

'Sister,' Uhtred said seriously, 'he asked to serve me. He promised me his loyalty. He has a fighting spirit in him, yes, but for now he seems rather harmless. He's Kjartan's bastard son, and he wants Kjartan dead as much as I do.'

'I hope you're right,' you said.

'I am,' Uhtred smiled, 'Sihtric! Come here, boy!' he called out, 'I will show you.' The Dane came running across the square.

'Lord?' he panted, and he held his head down.

'Sihtric, I want you to meet my sister.'

You saw that Sihtric was very nervous, shy and obedient. He was tall, a little thin but still quite muscular. He was dressed in leather armour and he carried a knife and a sword. You saw he had bruises, recent cuts, dried blood and old scars on his face, yet you thought he was very handsome.

Later that night you stopped by the alehouse. Uhtred celebrated his return, so the place was packed. You had been there for about an hour and constantly found yourself looking for the Dane, with no luck.

'Do you understand?' Uhtred asked after his speech.

'Yes, lord,' Sihtric said.

'Good, now go and take care of the horses.'

'Yes, lord.' 

'See? Harmless,' Uhtred chuckled as Sihtric ran away. He looked back at you and saw you were slightly frowning at the running Dane.

'Sister,' he said firmly.

'What?' you rolled your eyes.

'You have a look.'

'What look?'

Uhtred sighed, 'A look that I do not like.'

'Then you shouldn't bring back cute Danes,' you teased and gave Uhtred a push.

'I did not,' he said. You shrugged at him and walked away with a smile.

'He is not cute!' Uhtred yelled after you.

You got up and walked outside, enjoying the cool, fresh air. You looked around, but it seemed like everyone was either asleep or inside the alehouse, for the place looked deserted.

'You didn't invite the Dane?´ you asked Uhtred, and you rested your head upon his shoulder.

'You mean Sihtric?' Uhtred asked, slurring his words a little. He clearly had a few too many.

'He was here before,' he continued, 'I think… I don't know where he went. Or if he was here.'

'Should I look for him? What if he's up to something?'

'Maybe, little sister, you should,' he smiled, and you punched his shoulder.

You didn't know where Sihtric stayed at night, you hadn't asked Uhtred, so you decided to just take a little walk. You didn't really think the Dane was up to something, but you found it strange that he was not out drinking, and deep inside you just you wanted to check on him, to see if he was okay.

After nearly half an hour you still hadn't found him. You had caught a priest and a servant in the stables, much to your disgrace.

You figured you'd walk to the river, as you like to spend time there, for it is always quiet, especially at night. And it was a beautiful night, albeit a bit cold, as autumn was approaching.

You were making your way to the river, through the woods, when you suddenly heard a twig snap behind you. You stood still.

'Who's there?' you asked, and waited a moment. But the only sound you heard now was the sound of the nearby river. You looked around in the dark, and you heard a sudden rustling of leaves to your left.

You reached for Wasp-Sting, the knife Uhtred gave you some years ago, 'You better come out now,' you said, 'I will gut you if you try something. Or if I find you.'

And then the moon lit up the skin of someone slowly walking towards you.

'I am not armed, lady,' a warm, but shaky voice said. 'I don't mean any harm, I swear.'

You saw a man approaching with his hands above his head. Your eyes adjusted to the bright moonlight on his skin, and you realised it was Sihtric.

'Sihtric?'

'I apologise,' he said and he stood still, slowly dropping his hands, avoiding eye contact as he turned his face to the side. For a moment you just stood there, watching the shy but muscular Dane who was only a few paces away from you, admiring his perfect side profile as the moon lit up his strong jawline.

You couldn't help but laugh, to which Sihtric slightly looked up, before facing down again. 

'You… do… know you can… look at me, right?' you asked, slowly. 

'Lord Uhtred said he would take my eyes if I would,' he answered quickly, 'my lady.' And he slightly bent one knee to make a quick bow towards you.

'Lord Uhtred,' you emphasised the word lord, 'is not going to do anything. He is just teasing you,' you smiled and you took a step closer to him.

Sihtric flinched at your movement, quickly stepped back and threw his hands up to cover his face in reflex. You stopped dead in your tracks and also threw your hands up, gesturing you wouldn't do anything to harm him.

'I am not here to harm you either,' you said gently, 'I promise.'

Sihtric didn't move for a moment, but then hesitantly dropped his hands a little. 'You won't?' he asked, and he turned his body towards you, his face down, eyes still fixated on his feet.

'No,' you chuckled softly, I actually was looking for you.'

You saw his eyes repeatedly move up to you and quickly back to his feet. 'Why?' he then asked, 'h-have I done s-something wrong, my lady?' 

'What? Sihtric, no-'

'I am sorry if I did, I did not mean to. I-I did not know. I promise it will not happen again, let me try again. W-whatever it is, please. I will do better.' His words spilled out of his mouth like a waterfall, and you had to try your hardest to not drown in the rush it came out with.

'Sihtric,' you interrupted him a little firmly, to which you saw him close his eyes. He swallowed hard, and you felt a sudden sadness crawl into your bones, as your thoughts quickly trailed off to when you had met him earlier that day. And you suddenly understood that the behaviour of this beautiful, shy and seemingly harmless man in front of you was something he could not help. And when you connected his body language to your memory of the bruises and scars on his face, you felt your stomach drop.

'Sihtric,' you said quietly, 'you have not done anything wrong, I promise. I was only looking for you because I didn't see you at the alehouse, among the other men. It made me a little worried about you. And I wanted to know if you were okay.'

He slowly opened his eyes, let out a shaky breath and gathered all his courage to finally look you in the eyes.

'I promise,' you smiled softly at him as you locked eyes.

'Y-you were worried about me?'

'Yeah, a little, maybe,' you chuckled.

'Why?' he asked, and he looked down to his feet again.

'I'm not sure,' you said, 'I just…' and you paused to consider your words, something Sihtric seemingly did not do often.

'I would just like to talk to you. Maybe get to know you a little,' you continued and sighed, 'you just caught my interest earlier today.'

You saw Sihtric's lips curled into a shy smile, and so did yours.

You saw Sihtric felt flustered, and he tried to compose himself. 'Lady, I do not deserve your interest. I am a nobody, a bastard son, I have no importance.'

'Well, that is not for you to decide,' you said and smiled, 'I want to get to know you.'

'May I step closer?' you asked, 'to get a better look at you?'

He was silent for a moment, but then nodded in agreement. You stepped towards him and saw how he became uncomfortable the closer you got to him.

'I will not hurt you, ever, you have my word,' you said, to which he suddenly looked up into your eyes. You felt your heart break as his mismatched eyes gazed into yours with a fragile look. You both didn't speak for a moment and just stood there, merely one pace apart.

'You don't let people get close to you often?' you almost whispered, as you closed the space between the two of you.

'No,' he said, shook his head and looked down again, 'people only come close to me when they wish to hurt me,' he said, and a broken smile appeared on his lips.

Sihtric allowed your eyes to inspect him, and followed you cautiously with his own as you looked at his face, his neck, his shoulders and his arms, all the way to his hands. He still hadn't rid himself of the dried blood on his temple and under his nose, and you let out a sigh as you saw how many scars he had on his visible body parts.

Sihtric didn't know where to look and his lips curled into a shy smile again. After a few seconds he finally nodded his head. He hesitantly reached for your hand, as if he expected you to pull away from him. You heard a shaky sigh of relief escape his lips when he felt you gently squeeze his cold hand.

'Will you come with me?' you then asked, and you held out your hand.

'Where to?' he asked shyly.

'To my home,' you smiled.

'Why?' his face flustered.

'To take care of you,' you reassured him softly, 'at least for the night, I insist,' you smiled.

#sihtric kjartansson #sihtric #sihtric x you #sihtric x reader #the last kingdom fic #the last kingdom #fic #sihtric fanfic #tlk

[spooksthenoodles]

I've spent so long organising my smallishbeans playlist just to realise noones gonna understand that it's organised but me💔💔💔 so I've decided I'm gonna explain it on tumblr (listen I know noone cares but I spent over 2 hours organising it please listen😣)

So basically it goes in ascending order of smp created!!! (Xlife,third life,empires you get the point..)

Last life has the most songs because I decided to give last life joel (mostly) all the violent songs cause he's the most violent one lmao

Xlife= my church-oh ana

Third life= fuck you I'm going underground- sleeping giants

Empires 1= awesome as I wanna be- everybody loves me

Last life= right now- Boogie woogie wu

Empires 2= kiss me son of god- your obedient servant

Double life= everybody's falling in love- play with fire

Limited life= bad boys- bad boy

Secret life- skeleton appreciation day- how I'd kill

Cjoel(they didn't fit any individual character)= terrible things- Brittle bones nicky 2

I totally didn't waste My time doing this and I'm like so cool it's crazy😁😁 (I hope this doesn't seem like some weird playlist advertisement I just needed to "rant" about this😭)

#mcyt #trafficblr #empires smp #life series #smallishbeans #joel smallishbeans #double life #last life #3rd life #third life #secret life #limited life #boat boys #bad boys #jizzie #empires 1 #empires s2 #empires s1 #empires smp 1 #empiresblr #x life smp #jeremyism

[arisuworld]

—ONLY YOU CAN CHANGE YOUR LIFE—

DISCLAIMERS:

1. Strong language (i swear a lot), sarcasm ahead, tough love typa shit. This is meant to be helpful and reassuring but I'm not going to treat y'all like you're made of sugar and talk like I'm from 50 years ago. Deal with it or not.

2. English isn't my first language. So, there can be many grammatical mistakes.

Yes, you read it right. Only you can change your life not your favourite goddess blogger then WHY THE FUCK ARE YOU ASKING THEM TO MANIFEST FOR YOU? GURLLL REALLY? DO YOU THINK THEY'RE ABOVE YOU? DO YOU THINK YOU'RE LESS OF A GOD JUST BECAUSE YOU'VE NOT ENTERED VOID YET? GURL, you have your whole life ahead you. If you will let some limiting beliefs hold you back from achieving the things you deserve, then that's it. It's done. You're never going to get your desires or desired life and YOU WILL HAVE NO ONE TO BLAME BUT YOURSELVES!!

Now now, do not come for me. I said what I said and I mean it 100%. (And I'll prove it below)

Tell me honestly, why haven't you manifested your desires by now? Why? What's the reason?

— LACK OF PERSISTENCE? LACK OF DISCIPLINE? LACK OF FAITH? OVERCONSUMPTION? PROCRASTINATION? LAZINESS? LACK OF DETERMINATION? INABILITY TO ACCEPT A FAILURE?

So now, who's fault is that? Start taking accountability for your procrastination and lack of persistence. Because if you won't, then you will not be disciplined enough to achieve your desires.

All i want to say is— TIME WON'T STOP FOR YOU! Rather than wasting your time thinking about how others are lucky to enter void at their first try, start affirming and PERSIST IN THEM, BELIEVE IN THEM!! BECAUSE SWEETHEART LISTEN— L I F E G O E S O N ! ! ! STOP WASTING YOUR LIFE LIKE THIS!! AND START WORKING YOUR ASS OFF. and by working, I do not mean to go and start taking action in real life, NO.

1. Make yourself a routine (which is what I'm doing for you right now but anyways). Listen to subliminals or listen to brown, white noise or litteralyyy any music (yes, you can also listen to your favourite song which calms you down). Just anything to calm you down, to relax you, to put you in a good mood.

2. Start AFFIRMING and do not let negative thoughts take over. (Once you start affirming, leave the old story behind because GURRLLL THAT'S NOT YOU ANYMORE!! ALWAYS PERSIST IN THE NEW STORY) You can either do a challenge (like 10k or 20k affirmations) or just affirm robotically for 10 minutes every hour. Saturate your subconscious mind with good and positive affirmations.

3. You can also do the self hypnosis thingy by konniesreality (it's optional)

4. Also, do any meditation or Yoga Nidra at anytime of the day you feel comfortable (It would be better if you do it right before entering void). In my opinion, yoga nidra feels much better (ALSO, DID YOU KNOW THAT YOU CAN ENTER VOID WITH YOGA NIDRA MEDITATION? HEHE) It will clear your mind in minutes. It also relaxes your body. But everyone has different choices, so do whatever feels good for you because that's the major point.

5. At night, set the fucking intention and just go for it.( You can do any method which seems suitable for you) YOU HAVE NOTHING TO LOSE!! TRY TO PUT SOME EFFORTS ONCE IN YOUR LIFE GOD'S SAKE. IT CAN IMPROVE YOUR LIFE OVERALL SO MUCH.

I'm rooting for you baby, I know you can do it. You just need a little hard push and that's what I'm here to do. So listen to your desires and most importantly, listen to yourself. You can do this!!

Good luck y'all <3

{Ps : Idk why but i really love making these rude toxic motivational posts I'm sorry 😭}

#law of assumption #loa #loa blog #loassumption #manifestation #manifestation blog #manifesting #void state #manifesation #void #get motivated #get it #manifest it #motivateyourself #motivation #motivational #law of assumption blog #void concept #self care #self concept #10k affirmations

[estrellami-1]

(Push Away the) Lonely Times

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

Thanks to @artiststarme for the title inspiration!! ❤️

It’s at the tail end of a fourteen-hour shift, because retail is one of the circles of hell, that Jim sees him.

He’s seen him around before, with friends, jumping around and playing pretend and buying a candy bar with a stray few coins.

Now, though, he’s alone. Pushing a cart that’s almost taller than he is through the aisles. He seems ages away from where he was, even just last summer, with his friends.

Jim watches, because despite his exterior, he has a heart. He watches as the kid—because that’s what he is, at ten years old—does the chores Jim thinks the mother should be doing.

Not that women should be the only ones doing grocery shopping. His mother would scalp him for the thought. But because honest-to-God kids shouldn’t be doing this kind of thing.

He watches as the kid consults a list, looks between two or three different items, counts on his fingers, then finally shrugs and picks one of them.

He finally comes up to the register, cart about halfway full, and Jim knows this kid, knows his parents, knows there’s something wrong.

“Yer ma didn’ wanna come in?”

“Ah, no, sir,” Steven Harrington says, then hesitates strangely. “She’s busy.”

Busy is one word for it, Jim privately thinks, but nods. “Put yer thin’s on the belt, kid, I gotta scan ‘em.”

Steven does so, scarily efficiently, knows to keep the eggs and bread separate from everything else. Jim thinks about the scarce ingredients he sees in the cart, the myriad frozen dinners. Is privately thankful that the kid isn’t going to be cooking every night.

Jim scans the items, limiting himself to three glances at Steven as he does so. Nods to the shelf by the register. “Go ‘head ‘n pick a candy bar.”

“Oh,” Steven says, eyes wide. “I- I don’t have the money for that-”

Jim winks at him. Is pleased to see a small answering smile. “I won’t tell,” he says, and Steven shows more energy in his little hop over to the shelf than he had all day so far.

He grabs a Snickers, and Jim thinks back to last summer, thinks he remembers Steven grabbing the same one back then. Nods to himself.

“Right,” he says, and tells Steven the total.

Steven pulls out some bills, counts them out, and part of Jim wants to tell him to keep all his money.

He doesn’t. But he does distract Steven, convince him he’d overpaid by twenty dollars. Slips his own bill into the till when the kid walks out.

Jim watches as he loads his groceries onto his bike and pedals away.

He takes his break, goes into the back room, and calls Jim Hopper.

“Jim,” he says, because he thinks he’s hilarious, even though he knows he goes by Hopper.

Hopper grunts. “Jim.”

“Do me a favor? The Harrington kid, Steven. Think he’s alone.”

Hopper’s smart. He knows how to read between the lines. He sighs, long and drawn-out. “Guess I’m taking my uniform off.”

Jim laughs, but says, “Thanks, Hop. R’min’ me t’buy you a coffee.”

“You know I will,” Hopper says, which they both know is a lie. Jim owes Hopper at least two full pots by now.

He gets off the phone, looks at the clock, and sighs. Back to work.

He thinks about Steven the entire time.

Permanent Taglist: @justforthedead89 @ilovecupcakesandtea @madigoround @bookbinderbitch @suddenlyinlove @nburkhardt @artiststarme

#stranger things #steve harrington #jim hopper #oc #Jim is a DELIGHT okay #he thinks he’s the funniest #and he privately is #he just says the worst jokes out loud #because he loves the groans he gets #it’s anyone’s guess as to which Jim adopts Steve but rest assured it does happen #starambles

[thrawns-babygirl]

Stake Out #3 (Thrawn x AFAB!GN Reader)

two chapters in two days? impressive? yes. Unsustainable? Also yes. so take what you get before i disappear back into the abyss for the next 6 months.

Also, there is like... some plot happening??? Almost??? and some feelings??? How will our pathfinder and our mid captain navigate such uncertain ground? And a cameo from one of our favourite Chiss? its all happening now.

Rating: E (18+) Warnings: Face sitting, dry humping, cock warming, unprotected PiV, Creampie Word Count: 2900+

[Part 1] [Part 2]

Masterlist

The hours melt into days. You and Thrawn spend as much time as his mission allows as a tangled mess of limbs as you explore one another’s bodies, learning each other as well as your limited time and knowledge of each other’s species allows.

So here you sit, Thrawn’s tongue ravaging you, your legs either side of his head as you grind your clit against his nose. His strong hands are wrapped around your thighs as he pulls you further down on top of him, his tongue venturing ever deeper into your cunt as you moan and whine above him, one hand tangled in his hair, the other resting on the cool bulkhead as he sends you tumbling towards another orgasm.

Since exploring this side of himself, you’ve learned that Thrawn absolutely adores going down on you. No session is complete unless he spends an ample amount of time with his head nestled between your thighs. You begin to wonder if perhaps Chiss are an aquatic race given his apparent lack of need for oxygen as he works his tongue against your slick folds.

You’re so close, so so close when suddenly his comm unit chimes with an incoming transmission. He curses in Cheunh and helps you off his face, wiping his mouth so that he can answer the call. You quickly tug your panties up, breathing heavily and trying to calm your body down after your ruined orgasm.

Thrawn adjusts the bulge in his pants and clears his throat before answering. The conversation is quick, and if you didn’t know any better you would say you sense some actual tension between Thrawn and his captain, which strikes you as odd. It could be your lack of understanding of their language, but their tone and intonation definitely seem like they’re arguing. That pit in your stomach opens up again and you hope and pray to whoever may be out there that this isn’t your fault, that you haven’t distracted the mid captain from his duties and gotten him in trouble with his superiors.

You wait patiently, unwilling to even breathe too loudly lest you accidentally get Thrawn in trouble. The transmission cuts off as you hear and exasperated “Mitth’raw’nuruodo…” come from Ziara and he turns back around to face you, his expression is unreadable but his whole body is tense.

“I apologise, it appears our mission has been discontinued and we are expected to rendezvous back with the Parala at your earliest convenience” his voice is terse, short as he throws his shirt back on and helps you up off the bedding.

“Is everything alright?” you ask softly, tugging your jumpsuit on as he moves around the cabin preparing for your departure from your quiet section of space.

“All is well. My presence has been requested on Csilla.” He looks as if he wants to say more but stops himself, going back to whatever he was doing on the navcomputer.

 “Right… yes, I’ll get us back to your ship as soon as possible” You pull your boots on, your ruined orgasm entirely forgotten as you mourn the lost time you could have shared with the mid captain.

You take a sip from the canteen before donning your sensory depravation helmet and preparing to trance. Just as you’re about to slip away and become one with the galaxy, you feel Thrawn tug your helmet up and place a soft kiss to your lips.

“I’m sorry, I promise that I will seek you out again” his voice is a whisper, filled with a level of emotion the Chiss has never shown you before. It makes your chest tight and your breathing hitch before you once again focus on safely navigating the small shuttle back through the Chaos and towards his people. Closing your eyes and taking a deep breath, you slip away, blind to the way that Thrawn is gazing at you from his seat, eyes never leaving your form as the lights of hyperspace fill the cockpit.

The journey back towards the Parala was long and exhausting, the familiar feeling of burnout lingering in your skull as you take shaky steps down the ramp of the shuttle. One foot after the other you say to yourself, determined not to appear weak in front of the Chiss. Warriors bustle about the hangar, quickly stealing Thrawn away from you as he is lead towards the bridge leaving you alone and disoriented.

You hadn’t been assigned quarters yet, so you’re entirely unsure where you’re meant to be going. Looking around to hopefully catch the attention of one of the passing officers, but none barely even glance in your general direction.

“Are you lost?” a feminine voice calls out from behind you in very heavily accented Minnisiat. Turning you’re faced with a woman in the standard black expansionary defence fleet uniform. Struggling to focus your eyes you nod, clinging to the strap of your pack as if it were a lifeline.

She furrows her brow, before a look of understanding crosses her features. “You must be the Pathfinder who accompanied the mid captain correct?” again you nod, not trusting your voice currently.

She wraps her arm around your shoulder and begins leading you through the ship. “You will have to forgive the mid captain’s sudden departure, there has been a situation that requires his immediate attention. Come with me. I’ll lead you to your temporary quarters until we can drop you off at your station.”

“Thank you” you croak out before the telltale feeling of bile rising in your throat causes you to promptly close your mouth and focus again on putting on foot in front of the other as your head spins. Perhaps you did push yourself a little too hard this time.

The woman sends a worried look in your direction as she stops in front of a set of doors. “You gonna be alright?” she asks with no small amount of concern lacing her voice as she helps you over the threshold into a small room with a single bed and a tiny refresher off to one side.

“Yeah… Yeah I’ll be fine, just need some sleep I think” you throw her a weak smile, hoping to assuage her worries.

“I’ll send someone by soon with some food and water. Get some rest yeah?” she returns your smile, her Minnisiat far more informal than Thrawn’s you notice, making you feel slightly more at ease around her.

“Thank you…?” you look at her uniform, totally unable to discern a name or rank or anything of value. The script isn’t something you can read, and you have less than zero idea what the patch on her arm indicates, all you know is that it’s different from the sun style motif on his uniform.

“Junior Captain Kiwu'tro'owmis” she replies with a smile and the look on your face must betray your bewilderment because she just laughs and pats you on the shoulder “Wutroow is fine” she says as she takes your pack off your shoulder for you. “The wardrobe has some loose clothes you can change into and there is a sonic in the refresher. We’ll need to make a slight detour before returning you to your station sorry, but I’ll make sure someone sends you some food and water in a bit.

“Thanks, Wutroow” you smile at her before sitting down on the bed and laying down, passing out the moment that your head hits the pillow.

You wake with a start, feeling your jumpsuit being pulled from your body, immediately in fight or flight you swing your arms wildly hoping to hit the intruder, only to be met with the deep soothing voice of your mid captain Thrawn.

“Shhh, it is only me. I assumed you would be more comfortable not sleeping in such course fabric” he grabs your hands before you can smack him in the face with a slight smile.

“Junior captain Wutroow informed me that you were fatigued from our journey, I apologise if you feel I pushed you too hard in our return voyage” he rubs small circles on the back of your hand as he speaks “I also apologise for our abrupt departure, for obvious reasons I cannot divulge too much information but it appears that I am in trouble with the ruling body of our people” he places a soft kiss to the back of your hand.

“Because of me?” you ask as you sit up fully to face him, spying the tray of food and canteen of water that he has placed on the table beside your bed and taking a long sip.

He shakes his head “No one knows of our… arrangement besides Senior Captain Ziara, and she is a trusted friend who would not divulge that information to anyone. No, my being in trouble with the Aristocra is wholly unrelated and unfortunately quite a common occurrence”.

You slide the top half of your jumpsuit off your body and tie the sleeves around your waist as you peck at the tray of food.

“So, the captain is… aware of what happens when she sends us away?” you’re baffled. His captain is fine with this? Why?

“Yes, I believe her words were ‘as long as it keeps you busy and keeps you out of trouble’” he chuckles “Evidently, that has not worked”.

You also chuckle at this, finally feeling your strength returning to you. “I hope you’re not in too much trouble, wouldn’t want you to get kicked out of the fleet” you toe off your boots and stand up, stretching your sore muscles, the fog of burnout finally fully cleared.

“If I were to be expelled from the Expansionary Defence Fleet, I would still find a way to contact you” he says with such an extreme amount of sincerity that it causes your face to warm.

“I would… hope so. I enjoy our time together” you smile over your shoulder towards him as you move to take your jumpsuit off entirely, the stifling fabric falling away and exposing your legs to the cool air of your quarters.

“as do I” You feel his gaze on you as you undress, the heat of his gaze raking over your form as you face away from him, suddenly slightly nervous again. It is always like this afterwards, unaware of where you stand. He’s expressed a great deal of interest in you but what does that even mean? Does he see you as a friend? A lover? A romantic prospect? The Chiss are known throughout the chaos to be so extremely isolationist that you’re not even sure that a Chiss being romantically involved with a human is even allowed.

So lost in your thoughts you don’t notice him approaching until you feel one of his strong arms wrap itself around your waist from behind, his fingers splayed out on your stomach as he pressed himself against you.

“You are… ch'esehn” he whispers, his breath curling around the shell of your ear and sending that familiar head straight to your core.

You push yourself back against him “and what does that mean?” you ask in a breathy voice, the tension in the room is palpable.

“I believe the closest translation would be… Breathtaking” he kisses along your neck, slowly moving his hips against you, softly rutting the hard swell of his cock along your rear.

“I have never been so enchanted by someone as I am with you” He sucks a mark against your collarbone, causing goosebumps to prickle your flesh. “After our first encounter I sought out the company of others, but none ever felt as… taskavcehn”

You spin in his arms and raise a single eyebrow as you rest your hands against his uniformed chest.

“Perfect” he translates before moving his lips over yours in a passionate kiss, his arms tightening around your waist as he pulls your body flush to his. This kiss feels different, the others were fuelled by lust or arousal but this one… this one is filled with emotion that neither of you are willing to fully accept just yet.

So instead of thinking you return his kiss with equal passion, following as he pulls you towards the small bed, lying on his back and moving you to straddle his waist, your lips never leaving one another. You move your hips against his, the two of you rutting together like horny midagers, swallowing each other’s moans, only separating so that he can pull your tank top over your head.

You fiddle with the fastenings and clasps of his tunic while he seemingly remains content to slowly move his hips into you while you struggle. Finally getting the offending fabric out of the way you lean down to kiss along his jaw, moving towards his neck and chest, sucking dark marks into his pristine blue skin.

He gasps, his hips bucking up against you with more force as he holds your hips in a bruising grip, his fingers surely leaving marks in your skin as he uses his strength to grind you along his crotch.

“I do not have much time before I return to duty, but if I am unable to see you again before you return to your station I shall leave you with something to remember” he moves you back, so that he can unfasten his pants, pulling them down just enough to free his cock, in the same motion he pulls your panties to the side exposing your dripping cunt.

Your hands on his chest, you slowly sink down on his length, the stinging stretch of his girth quickly morphing into mind boggling pleasure as he bottoms out, your ass against his thighs. You go to move but he holds you still, his cock twitching and throbbing in your tight walls.

“I wish to stay like this for just a moment” another twitch causes your walls to flutter around him and he groans “to burn the feeling of you into my memory”.

“I thought you said you didn’t have much time” your breathing is ragged, acutely aware of each throb and twitch of his cock as it rests inside you, otherwise unmoving.

“Time spent like this is time well spent” he brings his thumb down to your clit, rubbing slow circles against the engorged bundle of nerves, sending white hot pleasure through your whole body, you dig your nails into his chest, panting and moaning at his pleasurable torture.

“You feel… exquisite around me” he groans, his accent becoming thicker as he continues holding himself still inside you, driving you within an inch of your sanity with each flex of his cock.

“P-please…” you moan, attempting again to move your hips but failing against the strength of his hold on you. His thumb continues moving in tight circles against your clit, driving you ever closer to the edge of oblivion. “Please fuck me… Thrawn”.

The sound of his name coming from your lips in a desperate plea seems to do it. He snaps his hips against you, fucking up into you at a blinding speed, your combined moans and the sound of skin hitting skin bounding off the walls of the room. You attempt to move your hips but find yourself entirely incapable of matching his bruising pace, so you settle for holding yourself up as he pounds into you.

“cseo ravri'ihah bun... cseo cssut'sahn... cseo navsabant... ch'ah cart cseo k'ascah...” he pants, his rhythm faltering as he somehow manages to hit deeper with each stroke. He hits that perfect spot inside of you each time, sending you tumbling over the edge into ecstasy, your walls clamp down around him and draw an almost animalistic growl from his chest as pushes himself as deep as he can, spilling his load, muttering under his breath “csei cart hah... tsan'ah hah sea...”

Thrusting a few more times into you, he lays back on the bed, panting and exhausted, but giving you a small smile.

“I must return to the bridge but if I do not see you before you depart… I will see you again in the future. And may warriors fortune smile upon you” he says as he quickly refastens his uniform, straightening himself out and in a flash, he is back to the perfectly put together, stoic chiss that the rest of the galaxy sees.

“I’ll see you again Thrawn and… good luck with whatever trouble you’re in” you stand up on unstable legs and give him a hug which he returns before giving you a soft kiss and departing your quarters. Once again leaving you alone with your thoughts as you gather your clothes and make your way to the refresher.

You stare out of the viewport at the retreating form of the Parala as you once again stand at your station. You didn’t see Thrawn again before you departed the ship, a fact that sits heavily in your chest as you sling your pack over your shoulder, wondering how long it will be before you see your mid captain again.

Thrawn stands at the rear viewport of the Parala, watching as the Pathfinder station slowly becomes smaller and smaller the more distance is placed between the two of you, his hands clasped firmly behind his back as Ziara approaches him.

“I hope you know what you’re doing Thrawn” she says with an exasperated sigh as she too watches the station get further and further away.

Thrawn turns to face her “I regret to inform you that I… do not” he says before taking his leave of the observation deck to return to his quarters to get some much needed rest before he once again faces the Syndicure.

Cheunh Translations: “cseo ravri'ihah bun... cseo cssut'sahn... cseo navsabant... ch'ah cart cseo k'ascah...” = so fucking good... so tight... so incredible... i am so close...

 "csei cart hah... tsan'ah hah sea..." = that's it... take it all...

@thrawnspetgoose @mysticalgalaxysalad @mitth-eli-vanto @al-astakbar @khapikat222 @novemberblueskyink @ele-millennial-weirdo @69fandom-fanatic69 @blackmonitor

#thrawn smut #thrawn x reader #admiral thrawn x reader #grand admiral thrawn x reader #thrawnposting #grand admiral thrawn smut #mitth'raw'nuruodo #mitth'raw'nuruodo smut #admiral thrawn smut #thrawn #grand admiral thrawn #admiral thrawn

[ellejos]

75 HARD WEEK I: The Good, The Bad And The Okay I Guess

as some of you know I'm participating in the 75 Days Hard Challenge (75 Hard) and I successfully finished my first week. Therefore I'm doing a little recap and share my experience with you.

First of all: yes, I'm doing good and yes, I know I'm only 7 days in. It will get way harder eventually because right now I'm highly motivated. It's like the honeymoon phase of the challenge and my true consistency and progress will show during the middle of the challenge.

THE GOOD (Things that I surprisingly enjoy way more than I would have guessed):

drinking a gallon of water. The first 2-3 days I had to literally force myself to drink that amount of water but after day 4 my body actually craved it. When I wasn't drinking water for a few hours I felt extremely thirsty.

the outside workout (!) has so many benefits to my mental health (who would have guessed)

taking a progress picture every morning after waking up is personally the easiest task and the first thing I do.

Planning and preparing my meals is way more enjoyable than I would have thought!

THE BAD (cool, I'm outta here):

time management which is not bad in general because I'm well organized, but you gotta make sacrifices to fulfill your task and go to work. When it comes to social gatherings I became rather selfish and limited my time for social interactions with friends and being available (which - shocker - not everyone of my friends is happy about because they are used of me being a giving person and looking after others needs first).

people judging me, especially for my diet choice. A lot of people seem to find it offensive that I'm not eating meat and mostly vegetables and that I'm not craving cheat meals or alcohol. Currently I'm doing phenomenal without it and therefore I'm disappointed when people feel offended over my food choices.

during busy days the second workout is my personal nemesis. My job is full of physical activities and it's not possible to do the first workout before work, therefore I have to do one workout at midday and the second one in the evening.

BLOATING my friends. I looked like a pregnant person a few hours before giving birth. I'm glad I changed my diet a month in advance because I experienced bloating then, too (which is gone by now). But now I struggle with water bloating.

The Okay I Guess (woman who loves literature has to make time for reading):

I LOVE READING. Fiction, non-fiction. it doesn't matter to me. What does matter to me is being forced to implement daily reading into my day. I enjoy the reading task on my days off because I'm having a cup of coffee in the morning and sit down on my balcony to read my current literature and enjoy the dawn of the day. But on my work days, I'm literally forcing myself to read the 10 pages because it's currently hard for me to find a tactic for myself to enjoy it on work days.

Feel free to follow me on my journey.

Bisous!

#that girl #self care #green juice girl #clean girl #pink pilates princess #it girl #routine #glow up #habits #75 hard #75 days hard challenge #75 days #75hard #ellejos