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strang3lov3 · 4 months

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Cinnabon

Summary: (mall rats 7, final part!) Joel ruins a special moment, leading to another stupid argument, leading to him fucking the daylights out of you on his couch. Lovingly.

Tags: AU where yeast is not dead and we can all bake and be happy. Cordyceps is no longer in the flour/sugar either (work with me) Cinnabons, 69, dirty talk, unprotected Piv, creampie because it’s me, strang3lov3. soft dom joel because again, it’s me, strang3lov3. Strange highs and strange lows, that’s how my love goes. You get it.

A/N: As always, thank you @papipascalispunk for editing ❤️ you’ve helped me so much on this series and you have no clue how thankful I am for that. Definitely abusing your talents for the next shit I wanna write! And thank you to everyone who’s read and reblogged, commented, all of that good stuff. This was a blast to write!!!

This may not be the absolute end of these two, so you might get an update on them here and there, most likely in the form of yet another lovers quarrel. But I have so much stuff planned and I hope you continue to keep up with me ❤️ excited for the new year and to share what else i've been writing with all of you 🩷

It’s early in the morning in late December when you’re walking up to Joel’s porch, holding a basket full of ingredients and a dusty copy of Betty Crocker’s Cookbook. You knock on the door, no answer. With Joel’s poor hearing, sometimes it’s better to knock on his back door. He seems to hear it better, closer to his bedroom and all that. You make your way to his back door, where you find Ellie quietly opening the window next to the door, no doubt sneaking back from a friend’s house. You startle each other, “Ellie, hi,” you say. You wrinkle your nose, she smells like weed. You can’t help but smirk.

“Oh,” she says, “Hi. I’m not– I’m just–”

“I won’t tell Joel,” you smile. Ellie’s staring at your basket of goodies, where one of your lacy Victoria’s Secret thongs sits on top of a blue Cinnabon apron. “I’m just…baking. For Joel. Are you gonna be home today?”

It’s Ellie’s turn to smirk at you, as she opens the window the rest of the way and lifts herself inside the house. You hear her heavy footsteps before she unlocks and opens the door for you. “I can disappear,” she replies, “I require payment, though.”

“I’ll leave you a plate outside your door.”

“Deal.”

Ellie goes to her room probably to change clothes, and you go toward Joel’s kitchen. “I want two of whatever you’re making,” Ellie calls out before slamming the back door again, probably going back to her friend’s house. That girl certainly knows how to negotiate. You can’t help but love her for it.

Joel usually wakes up early, but he’s not on his recliner where you expect him to be. Must be in bed. You smile to yourself, picturing Joel coming downstairs in his pajamas, hair messy and sighing in pleasure at the sweet aroma of butter and cinnamon.

You’re making Cinnabons this morning. Well, cinnamon rolls, as Betty Crocker puts it. When you and Joel were in the Barnes and Noble at the mall picking up books for Jackson’s library, you had stumbled across Betty Crocker’s Cookbook. Flipping through the pages, you found a recipe for cinnamon rolls and thought back to that first time in the mall with Joel, where he explained what a Cinnabon was, and then lied about his sweet tooth.

There were loads of recipes, many interesting pictures too. You brought the book to Joel and pointed at a picture of some odd, translucent dome-shaped food item. He told you it was called Jell-O, and that no one misses it. You wanted to take the cookbook back with you, but there wasn’t room in the duffel bag. And you couldn’t bear to rip out a single page for one recipe. That would just be cruel.

At the end of the day, you went back to Tommy’s office with Joel. Joel usually walks you home, but he didn’t that day. Said he was running late for game night with Ellie, so he took off quickly. Tommy told you he’d walk you home, though.

As you and Tommy went through some of the books, he heard you sigh disappointedly, “What’s gotcha down, hon?”

“There was this book I wanted, but we didn’t have room.”

“What book?”

“Cookbook,” you replied, “I wanted to make a recipe for Joel.”

“Ah,” Tommy murmured, flipping through the pages of an old picture book, “Which recipe?”

“Cinnamon rolls.”

“Oh man,” Tommy groaned. He checked his watch, then looked at you with a light in his eyes.

“I’ll take you back there right now to get that book.”

“You’d do that?”, you asked.

“For you, of course. But I got my motives. Ya gotta hook me up with some of those rolls.”

There are few things that make you feel as loved and appreciated as when Tommy’s eating your food, showering you in the sweetest compliments and praises. No problem, you’d gladly share your baking with him. So Tommy took you back to the mall. You led him to the bookstore, picked up your book and went on your merry way. Tommy still hadn’t gotten to check the mall out for himself, though. So he wandered through the same areas you did, through the food court you and Joel picked through all that time ago. At the Cinnabon stand, he tossed you a blue apron with the word ‘Cinnabon’ embroidered at the chest. “Bet ya could make Joel turn bright red with this.”

You picked up what he was putting down immediately. And, thinking about it, you had a lacy thong that would match the apron perfectly. You remembered the blush on Joel’s cheeks as you tried on lingerie at Victoria’s Secret, how he mumbled something about lingerie being a waste of time before fucking you in the dressing room, still wearing your pretty pink chiffon babydoll. You wondered if faced with a big, gooey cinnamon roll sitting in front of him, and you in nothing but an apron and a thong, he’d still lie about that sweet tooth of his and his disdain for lingerie. Cause for an experiment.

–

In Joel’s kitchen, you prepare the recipe. You prepped the dough last night, giving it plenty of time to rise. All you have to do this morning is prepare the cinnamon-sugar mixture and the icing. Oh, and put on that apron and thong. Not too hard.

Once the rolls are assembled in the pan, you put them in Joel’s oven and change into your little outfit, feeling a little breeze on your bare ass. Good thing Ellie’s gone. As you’re waiting for the rolls to bake, you lean over Joel’s kitchen table and flip through the pages of your cookbook. The Jell-O still has you perplexed.

Some time goes by. You’re reading about the Jell-O, how Betty Crocker said that it was great for parties and baby showers and other things like that. The slam of the glass door behind you startles you. You whip around, and there’s Joel with bright red cheeks, looking shocked and horrified. Through the glass door, you see Tommy in Joel’s yard. He waves at you, smiling. You wave back.

“Jesus Christ,” Joel grumbles, quickly pulling the blinds over the glass door to protect your modesty, “You gonna explain why you’re bare assed in my kitchen?”

“I thought you were sleeping,” you reply.

“That doesn’t answer my question,” he grumbles, as the egg timer you set prior goes off with a ding. You open the oven and pull out the cinnamon rolls with a pair of potholders, giving Joel a perfect view of your entire ass. “Oh my god,” he groans. When you turn around, he’s pinching the bridge of his nose and shaking his head, always so dramatic. You reach for the Pyrex measuring bowl full of icing you prepared and begin drizzling it over the warm cinnamon rolls. “You drive me fuckin’ crazy. You’re somethin’ else, you know that? I never know what–”, Joel stops speaking, and you look back at him once more. He’s intrigued, eyes wide. The pastry has pulled his attention away from your nearly-bare body. “Those uh– those cinnamon rolls?”

“Cinnabons,” you correct him, pointing to the embroidered logo on your chest, “But yeah– cinnamon rolls.”

“Right,” he murmurs, stepping closer to you. He reaches into one of his drawers for a fork and pushes you out of the way.

“Joel,” you complain as he steals a bite of the cinnamon rolls, right out of the pan. He blows on it first, careful not to burn his tongue. When he tastes the pastry, his eyes flutter shut. He moans softly. “You said once that you missed Cinnabons,” you explain, speaking softly. Joel reaches for another bite, right out of the pan.

“Mhm,” he mumbles, mouth full of dessert.

“What’s the verdict?”

“Cinnabon’s better,” he answers plainly.

Your face drops. “What?”

“Yeah this–”, he takes another bite, “S’no good at all.”

He’s fucking with you. Probably gonna say something dumb like how you should give him the pan, let him dispose of those no good cinnamon rolls for you. “Dick,” you punch his arm for scaring you like that. He doesn’t mind.

“You made these for me?”

“Yeah,” you say quietly, “For you.”

“For me,” he repeats, a soft smile on his face. You’re kind of baffled at his mood change, but you know what they say about men and food; the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach, all that stuff. He steps closer to you, backing you against the countertop and turning off his oven, still wearing that smile, like he knows something you don’t.

“But I owe Tommy and Ellie one, too,” you continue, voice a little shaky. You’re nervous, why is he making you nervous? Joel sets his fork down and stares at you, lovingly, tenderly. “I made two batches before this, fucked both of those up. And then I ran out of sugar, actually. Tommy had to steal me some more.”

“I love you.”

His words hit you like a ton of bricks. He says it plainly, no frills. Just out with it.

“You do?”

“Mhm,” he hums, “I do. Still would like an answer as to why you’re half-naked, though.”

Your face heats up. What were you saying? The cinnamon rolls, right.

“I was– I don’t know. I had to knead the rolls by hand. The recipe said a stand mixer would be easier, but I didn’t…”, you trail off, feeling a little fuzzy, like you can’t think straight, your train of thought slipping away from you, “Didn’t have one. I love you too, actually.”

“I know,” he replies softly. He never doubted it for a second. Lord, he’s so handsome. His eyes sparkle more than usual, his fluffy curls untamed. The flannel he’s wearing suits him perfectly, and you can’t help but stare, stammering quietly. He reaches for your face with one hand, wrapping the other around your waist and pulling you close to his body, “I’m gonna kiss you now.”

Oh, fuck. You squirm out from his hold, away from the counter he held you against. Joel looks absolutely baffled as you smile sheepishly. “Can you grab me a plate for the Cinnabons?”, you ask, “I need to leave one by Ellie’s door.”

“I’d like to kiss you first, if you don’t mind,” he says, walking towards you. You keep walking backwards, around the kitchen table. Joel follows you as you look through his drawers for a spatula, opening and closing cabinets with shaky hands as you try to find a plate. Where are his fucking plates? Joel reaches for your hand to stop you. “Will you let me kiss you?”

“No.”

“No?”

“No.”

Joel’s missing something here. Has to be. You love Joel. Joel loves you. That’s been established, just like, two minutes ago. And you’ve been intimate with him many times before. The next logical step in this series of very out of order steps would be to kiss you. Unless…“Are you nervous?”, he asks.

“About what?”, you ask, “Kissing?”

“No, underwater basket weaving. Yes, kissing,” he sighs, “You seem nervous.”

“I’m not nervous,” you lie, “I’d just like to be the one to do it first.”

“Oh,” Joel replies, still a little confused, “Yeah, naturally. Makes sense.” He takes you by the hand and leads you to his living room, sits you on the couch and takes his place next to you. “Lay it on me, then.”

“I can’t just–”

“You can,” he interrupts, coaxing you gently, “Come closer.” You scoot closer, but it’s not enough for Joel. Still wearing nothing but a thong and an apron, he lifts you by your ass and places you on his lap. Joel wears an expectant look on his face as you adjust yourself on his lap, feeling so awkward and out of your element. You’ve kissed people before, this should be no big deal. You’re not sure why you’re so nervous with Joel, especially when you’ve done everything else with him.

“Joel, I– I don’t know where to put my hands.”

“Right here,” he whispers, placing your hands on his shoulders, “Or here,” he moves your hands to his jaw, his patchy beard prickly under your fingertips. “Wherever you want.”

“I like your shoulders,” you whisper, dropping your hands back to his shoulders. One of your hands slides to the back of his neck, playing with his soft curls.

“S’good,” he says. And oh, his eyes. Brown and so warm, inviting, so beautiful.

“Close your eyes,” you demand, intimidated by his stare. “Sorry. Close your eyes,” you repeat, softer.

“My bad,” Joel replies, his eyes now shut. You’ve never noticed how pretty his lashes are before now. They’re gorgeous, so long. “They’re closed now.”

“Okay,” you breathe.

“You got it,” he encourages.

God, this is daunting. You close your eyes, lean forward…and smooch him right on the cheek. There. Easy.

“Doesn’t count,” Joel murmurs through a smile, eyes still closed. Fuck. You adjust yourself on his lap, lean forward and…nothing. Joel waits. And waits. And waits.

“I’m gonna kiss you now,” you say, trying to will yourself to just do it.

“Okay, sweetheart. You got it,” he whispers. But you don’t kiss him yet, and Joel keeps waiting, feeling himself beginning to grow hard as you keep squirming on his lap, adjusting yourself some more. “Hon?”

“Yeah?”

“Any minute, now.”

“I know,” you say, “I’m gonna kiss you.” But you adjust again. A minute passes with you on Joel’s lap as he waits patiently for you to finally kiss him. Another minute. And then you lean forward and – nothing.

“I’m gonna count down from three, and then you’ll kiss me. How about that?”

Yeah, sounds like a plan.

“Okay,” you reply.

“Three…two…”, Joel counts, and you prepare once more to kiss him, “One,” Nothing. Joel sighs, “You’re killin’ me here.”

“I was about to do it, Joel.”

“Uh huh.”

“I was,” you argue, “You just keep talking and–”

“Oh, you’re so full of shit. You’re the one doin’ most of the talkin’, like usual.”

“That’s not true,” you argue, but are interrupted when he opens his eyes. That’s not supposed to happen. He wears a mischievous grin as he sits up and his hands begin to slide up your sides. Your already pounding heart begins to beat even harder, faster, because Jesus Christ, he seems like he’s about to kiss you. “What are you doing?”

“Ya got three more seconds to kiss me. Three…”

“Joel, not funny,” you scold as he takes your face in his hands.

“Two…”

You’re beginning to panic, “Joel–”

And then he fucking kisses you, the bastard! No tongue, just a sweet, gentle peck. It’s despicable. You shove him back on the couch and glare at him, “You kissed me!”

“How awful,” Joel says with mock sympathy before he leans forward and kisses you again. You shove him again, harder.

“You asshole. I was gonna do it.”

“No, you weren’t,” he replies plainly. He tries to kiss you again, but you keep your hands on his shoulders, pinning him to the couch cushion. Joel’s smirking, but you’re scowling.

“Yes, I was.”

“Okay,” Joel laughs, “We can redo it, then.”

You sigh, “No, Joel, we cannot redo it. You already ruined it.”

“Is that right?”

“Yeah. That’s right.”

“Shit. S’too bad,” Joel feigns a sympathetic pout as he wraps both hands around your wrists that pin his shoulders, removing them from his body. He pushes your hands behind your back, holding them tightly as he kisses you again. And again, this time a little longer. Your lips begin to slide against his, and…god, they’re soft. The bastard.

“You’re ruining–”

“For the love of god, you’re drivin’ me fuckin’ nuts,” Joel mumbles against your lips.

“I was supposed to–”

“No. You had your turn. We’re doin’ it my way now,” Joel says, “That means,” he kisses you, “M’gonna kiss you,” another kiss, “And fuck you,” another kiss, “As I please, because I love you,” he whispers. He kisses you before he maneuvers you to lay across the couch cushions, now pinning your wrists above your head under just one of his hands “And you can’t do a thing about it. Got it?”

“I–”

He doesn’t let you argue further. Always so stubborn, you. “Good girl. Yeah, you got it,” Joel kisses you again. It’s different this time. Deeper, hungrier, messier. So much tension, time spent dancing around feelings, and it’s all out there now. His tongue slides past your lips and he tastes like cinnamon and sugar. You’ve been depriving yourself of him for too long. “And after all this, I’m gonna eat some of them cinnabons you made. And I won’t share, either.”

With his free hand, Joel unzips his pants to free his cock. “You know what you do to me, trouble?” he asks, breathing heavily. “Got me hard as a fuckin’ rock with all that squirmin’ ya did instead of kissin’ me,” Joel lifts the bottom of your apron up, exposing yourself to him, already dripping wet as he pulls off your soaked thong. You could have expected the ensemble wouldn’t have lasted long. And how are you already wet? One second you’re arguing about a stupid kiss and the next, he’s got you pinned beneath him and you’re dripping. You gasp as Joel gathers your slick with his fingers before stroking his cock, dipping his head back down to kiss you. He kisses your lips sloppily, then your cheek and down your jaw, your neck, nipping at the skin and soothing the marks with his tongue. It feels hot and passionate, and loving and dirty; all the best things at once.

“Oh, god,” you moan as he kisses further down your body, still stroking his cock. He pauses momentarily to pull the strap of the apron over your head, then lifting your ass to untie the apron in the back. He pulls the fabric away from you quickly, tossing it on the floor. He kisses your chest, dividing his attention equally between your breasts. Pinching, twisting one nipple, kissing and licking the other, then switching. He leaves them wet with his spit as he kisses down your body, stopping before he reaches your pussy. “Joel,” you whine, “Please– need your mouth on me.”

“Oh, convenient. Now you want my mouth,” he breathes, teasing you.

“Please, I need it, need you,” you beg.

“Wouldn’t ya know it, I need your mouth too.”

“So? Me first.”

“God, you’re a brat. Nice try,” Joel pulls away from your body, taking off his clothes quickly, “Said we’re doin’ things my way. Tryin’ somethin’ new today. Scoot,” he motions for you to move to the side. “On all fours, now. Come on, up,” you scoot to the side where Joel tells you to, slightly confused as you take the position. Joel takes his place next to you, wrapping his arms around your thighs and pulling you down to his face. “Sit,” he tells you.

“Joel,” you begin to protest. Surely he doesn’t want you to actually sit on his face, right?

“You trust me.” It’s not a question. He knows you trust him, he knows you know he’ll take care of you. Of course he will. His voice is firm, confident, “I need you to sit,” as he pulls your center to his mouth, wasting no time in pressing kisses into your folds, slick and sticky with your growing arousal. Your breasts are pressed against his soft stomach, hands gripping his meaty thighs. Freeing an arm from its place at your hip, Joel wraps his hand around his cock, rock hard with a swollen blushed tip. He uses his other hand to reach for your head, pushing your face towards his member. “Take me in your mouth,” he says. “See? We’re compromising. S’what people in love do.” What an asshole.

Wrapping a hand around his thick cock, you guide his tip to your mouth, pressing wet kisses against the smooth skin. He tastes like he always does, familiar and masculine, salty and sweaty, as you trace over his swollen veins with your tongue. Joel groans against your cunt as he parts your lips, your tongue still painting delicate swirls on his skin.

“Yeah, attagirl,” he praises in a raspy voice, “Best of both worlds, ain’t it?” Joel laps at your cunt, moaning softly at the way you taste, your arousal almost as sweet and delicious as your cinnamon rolls from earlier. He keeps you held firm against his face as he licks you, alternating between drawing firm lines with the tip of his tongue and fat stripes with his tongue flattened.

“Mmmm,” you moan, voice muffled by his cock. You’ve got him as deep as you can take him, your nose nudging his balls slightly as you cup them gently in your hand. Joel surprises you when he dips his tongue into your pussy, tasting every bit of your pussy. You stop what you’re doing, the only thing your mind can focus on is the feeling of his tongue working magic inside you.

He swats your hip, “Know it feels good, but it goes both ways, sweetheart.”

“Please, Joel,” you beg.

“You know the rules,” he says, “You stop, I stop. Keep goin’, you’re suckin’ my cock so good, sweetheart. So good. Always do, you know that?” You begin to bob your head on his cock once more, Joel rewarding you with wet, sloppy, open mouthed kisses against your pussy. It takes everything you have to focus on his pleasure when he attaches his lips to your clit, sucking gently on the sensitive spot and humming against you. It’s not long before that familiar feeling begins to build in your stomach, your first orgasm washing over you.

You gasp for air, “Oh my god, Joel,” as he works you through your climax. Joel never lets up, not once. He keeps sucking, licking your clit, his facial hair tickling your skin and only adding to the overwhelming sensation. Once more, your peak begins to build. “I’m– fuck, I’m gonna come again.”

“S’the fuckin’ point, my love,” Joel mumbles quietly, and you can feel his smirk. Despite the rules, you’re not even sucking his cock anymore, your face instead resting on his body, haphazardly stroking his length as pleasure erupts from your core. You’re a moaning mess, pussy dripping and soaking Joel’s face.

Joel gives you a moment to catch your breath. Underneath you, he places one last kiss right on your clit before he gently slides himself out from your body. You’re hardly coherent as he meets you once more, this time his face inches above yours, caging you in his arms. His cock bounces between your legs and he leans down to kiss you again. His lips are wet and you can taste your arousal on his tongue. “Look at that, I stole another one,” he taunts.

“You’re a dick,” you breathe against his mouth, your body betraying you as you can’t help the smile that forms on your lips.

“Yeah, yeah,” and in one swift motion, Joel lines himself up with your entrance and pushes into you. He kisses you again, swallowing your gasp as he parts your insides, letting you feel every inch of him. God, he feels good. You’ll never tire of that stretch, that delicious feeling of being completely full of him.

“Oh, Joel,” you moan. He pulls out slowly, then slides back in at a harsher pace, grunting when he bottoms out inside of you. He takes both of your hands in his own, pinning them above your head as he rocks his hips. It’s tender yet dominant, just how everything is with Joel. Just how you like him.

“Love this pussy,” he purrs, “An’ I love you so much,” as he fucks you deeply, intensely. You whimper through his thrusts, each stroke fluid and firm and intentional. He knows your body like his own. “Takin’ me so good, sweetheart. You always do.”

You writhe underneath him, relishing in the pleasure he gives you. His name and sweet whisperings of love are all you can speak, each word coming out in soft, broken cries. The wet, sticky noises of your pussy fill the room, along with your moans and Joel’s grunting, groaning, and heaving breaths. You tilt your head to the side, arms still pinned beneath Joel’s hands. You kiss his wrists and bite his skin there gently.

“Come with me, baby,” he coos, adjusting the angle and finding that sweet spot inside you, that spot he knows and loves. He lets go of your arms, one of his big, masculine hands now on your waist, the other thumbing your clit. “Give me one more, sweetheart.”

It’s all it takes. His words send you over the edge, your pussy squeezing him, walls fluttering and pulsing with every thrust of his cock. “Fuck, Joel,” you whimper as he fucks you through your orgasm. You wrap your legs around his body, the heels of your feet bouncing against his ass, simultaneously pulling him into a tight embrace with your now free arms. Everything about this moment with Joel is perfect, the way he smells, his hot skin, how close and safe you feel with him. It sends Joel over the edge, too. With your name on his lips, your cunt gushing and pulsing around his cock, he spills inside you, painting ribbons of himself deep inside you as he helps you ride out your own climax as long as he can.

He pulls out of you with a soft groan. He cleans you quickly with his t-shirt, a warm smile on his lips. He kisses your forehead, then sits back against the couch, catching his breath. You sit up too, and Joel holds out his arm as an invitation for you to curl into his side. Your head resting on his shoulder, you stare at him. All of his beautiful features, warm brown eyes, his smile lines, his aquiline nose. And then, you do it. You kiss him. Long and deep, passionate. Hours could be passing, you don’t know.

Joel breaks the kiss. He pulls away from you, no longer smiling warmly. Instead, he wears his teasing grin. “Finally,” he smirks. He holds up his hand for a high five. Fucker. You roll your eyes, lifting yourself off the couch and buttoning Joel’s flannel over yourself. You make your way to the kitchen, finding a plate and placing two cinnamon rolls on them. You reach for an old pencil that sits on the window sill, scribbling ‘Ellie’ on a piece of nearby scratch paper and leaving it next to the plate. A deal is a deal, after all.

“Don’t leave me hangin’, now,” Joel calls out to you from the living room. You turn around and he’s waving his hand, nagging you about his abandoned high five.

You flip him off. Asshole.

#strang3lov3 #joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #joel miller x you #joel miller #strang3lov3 recs #the last of us #pedro pascal #the last of us hbo #pedro pascal joel miller #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal smut #pedro pascal characters #mall rats!joel #mall rats joel #mall rats

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maplebellsmods · 3 months

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Expanded Storytelling Relationship Bits Mod: 2

Ok..more storytelling and relationship options for your sims!

(Really tried my best to push this out before the end of Jan) 😮‍💨

If you want more info about the mod check this page out: Expanded Storytelling Relationship Bits Mod

This time around created more relationship bits. Here they are

I wanted to try something new this time, which is why it took me so much time. I'll get into it later.

But there are a few new things I have added and changed from the previous one. First off, there are more interactions available: social interactions, phone interactions, and rabbit hole interactions.

Each one of these interactions corresponds to a specific relationship bit.

Healing Touch: 'Plan Relaxing Activities Together,' 'Offer Comfort through Hugs and Physical Touch.'

Wisdom Seekers: 'Ask Questions about the Universe.'

Unbreakable Connection: 'Celebrate Anniversary of Enduring Connection,' 'Promise Everlasting Friendship' (Only available pre-promise).

I do need to note that, just like the other mod, many of these are cosmetic and don't have a full effect yet. (Emphasis on 'yet,' as I will slowly but surely make these more functional.)

If your Sims have the Wisdom Seeker, Tech-Savvy Partners, or Night Owl Companions relationship bits, some interactions will unlock on the phone:

Wisdom Seeker: Study Together at the Library

Tech-Savvy Partners: Send Tech News

Night Owl Companions: Night Time Activities Menu

(Regarding nighttime activities, I haven't found a workaround for this issue yet. However, here's a temporary solution: When selecting an activity for the two Sims who have the rabbit, choose the Sim you want to go with first, and then select yourself again using the same option. I'm not sure why this happens, but it can be a bit inconvenient. I'll work on making the process more streamlined in the future, but for now, this is how you can get them to go to the same activity.)

The new feature I've been working on, which I'm quite excited about, involves social interactions. I've always felt that many social interactions lacked depth and context. So, what I'm currently working on is creating social interactions to fill that gap

One of these interactions is 'Provide Emotional Support,' which is available for Sims with the 'Healing Touch' relationship.

In this interaction, your Sim will be presented with several options when they are feeling sad. Your Sim can choose from these options to express why they are feeling sad. Once they make a selection, the other Sim will ask for more context, leading to the exchange of contextual advice and reassurance.

I've also developed another social interaction, 'Try to Confess Feelings,' which is available for Sims experiencing 'Unrequited Love.

Attempting to confess your feelings will lead to various outcomes depending on the option you choose. In this interaction, the Sim who hears the confession will have several response options available.

The choice made by the listening Sim will have an impact on their relationship, both romantically and platonically. Some response options may harm the relationship more than others.

The way the Sim responds through the animation doesn't affect the outcome. I've designed it this way to leave the choice entirely in the player's hands. However, unless both Sims are in a flirty mood and have a high friendship level, the Sim who hears the confession will always use the rejection animation. Nevertheless, this animation choice doesn't alter the outcome.

The social interaction 'Forbid Relationship With' can be used either before or after designating two Sims as star-crossed lovers. Some of the options will even add the 'star-crossed lovers' relationship bit to the two Sims (if they didn't have it), while others will remove it (if they did have it).

The interaction can be found under the Mean -- Arguments Pie Menu Category. Only a parent, grandparent, uncle, or caregiver can trigger the interaction.

Depending on the chosen options, the relationship can either suffer a negative or experience a positive impact. While all of the options will influence the relationship, certain responses will have a significantly greater effect on it than others.

These are all the main points! I hope you all enjoy this new feature because I'm eager to create more! There will be additional interactions and other things I'll be adding to this mod. I'm constantly learning new things, and it's truly enjoyable to implement them!

Download Here

Public Feb 24

#the sims 4 #thesims4 #sims 4 mods #the sims cc #ts4 #sims 4 edit #ts4cc #sims 4 cc #ts4 mod #ts4 mods #mycc #ts4 download #sims 4 romance

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mermaidgirl30 · 3 months

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✨Daddy’s Best Friend, Mr. Miller Pt 3: October Surprises and Secrets Slurred ✨ dbf! Joel

Series Masterlist

-Pairing: Joel x fem! reader

-Rating: Explicit (18+ Only MDNI)

-Word Count: 13.2k

- Tags: Porn with Plot, dbf! Joel, fingering, oral, face riding, dirty talk, dom! Joel, (reader is 25, Joel is mid 40’s)

- Chapter Summary: Your relationship gets more heated with a lot more intimacy going on between you and Joel, but will you finally get caught?

- A/N: I love this series so much and can’t wait to bring you more filthy scenes between these two 🤭 Sorry not sorry this chapter is so long, it’s worth it 😉 Reblogs are appreciated and I always love seeing your comments ❤️

Dividers by @saradika-graphics

October rushes through Austin as the cool, autumn breeze whisks through your soft curls. The campus is buzzing with focused, anxious students who rush to get last minute papers and assignments in for midterms. You have been diligent and already turned in your law papers, so you’re now free of midterm anxiety, unlike the other students in your classes.

The historic, massive library is filled up with laptops splayed all over tables and empty Starbucks coffee cups that sit next to their cramped hands that struggle to keep writing in notebooks. Sunlight beams through the stained-glass windows as you pass through the library, making your way out into the cold to go find your car somewhere in the mix of all the campus traffic.

As you open the library doors, you get a shot of cold air that blows right through your purple cardigan, and you wrap it around yourself to try to keep the chill from seeping down into your bones. When you cross campus, your mind wonders to Joel and how much you want to see his handsome face right now. The thought of his massive hands cupping your chin and those pretty coffee colored eyes staring down at you make you shiver with anticipation.

Joel, Joel, Joel. He’s always on your mind, never letting a minute pass without him there. You both can’t leave each other alone, not able to go a day without speaking to one another. He always asks if you have plans after school or when your shift gets over at the coffee shop off Main Street. It’s almost like you’re a normal couple. Almost. There’s just that itch behind your ear that’s always buzzing when you’re with him. That loud, annoying ringing in your ears that reminds you that you’re sneaking around your parents, mostly your dad. You honestly have no idea how he would react to the news, so you’d hide it for as long as you could. Your mom might take it lighter, but your dad. He might actually lose it, and you do not want to see that happen.

When you get to your shining Nissan Rouge and hear the click of the unlocked door, you jump in and slam the door shut, throwing your belongings over in the passenger seat. As you put the silver key in the ignition and turn, it barely hums to life and then dies again. The glowing orange check engine light blinks in front of you, and you pound your hands on the sleek steering wheel.

“No, fuck! Please, work for me,” you beg as you turn the key and try again, praying for a miracle. The engine spurts out a pathetic, muffled sound and then magically starts up as the car hums to life once again. “Oh, thank God,” you sigh as you wipe the sweat from your forehead.

Joel. He’d know what to do. You pull out your phone and dial Joel’s number in a hurry, trying to keep your patience as you tap your nails on the black steering wheel. Joel picks up on the third ring.

“Hey there, gorgeous,” he drawls into the phone, his voice sounding like thick honey and sinking its way down into the pit of your stomach where warmth spreads.

“Hi, handsome,” you respond, a small smile spreading quickly over your face as the sound of his deep voice automatically soothes you.

“How was school? You get all your essays turned in? I don’t even have to ask, you already did. Didn’t you?” he asks with the sound of a light, raspy laugh on the end of the line.

“Just got them in today, actually,” you smile.

“Look at you gettin’ them in early. Such a smart girl, aren’t ya?” he purrs, making you bite your lip in response to the audible praise.

“Mhm,” you hum, your voice suddenly turning shaky as you look at the glowing engine light that warns you you shouldn’t be driving the car right now. Joel notices your shift in tone and responds with an edge to his voice.

“Everything alright, darlin’?” he asks concerned. It gives you goosebumps the way he’s always so protective, so careful of you.

“Umm-I’m fine, it’s just my car. My check engine light came on just now, and a few minutes ago I couldn’t even get it to start,” you respond back carefully with furrowed brows.

“Oh, shit. That ain’t good. You need a ride home? I can come get you-”

You cut him off and shake your head. “No, no. You’re at work, and my car came back on.”

“Darlin’, I don’t care that I’m at work. I don’t want ya drivin’ if it ain’t safe,” he says with a serious tone. You can tell he’s getting worked up, the way his breath falters and his sighs come out deep and clipped.

“Joel, really. I’m not that far from campus. I can make it home. Promise,” you respond with a more lighthearted response, hoping that Joel will settle with that answer.

“I don’t know if-”

You cut him off again. “Really, it’s fine. I’ll make it home,” you push.

You hear a long sigh and you can visually see him running his thick fingers through his patchy salt and pepper scruff. The vision of it makes warmth spread against your thighs as you squeeze your legs shut tight. “Fine, but I’m lookin’ at your car tomorrow and fixin’ it. S’not safe for you to be drivin’ it with your check engine light on,” he says with a raspy huff.

“Oh, you’re gonna fix it for me?” you ask with a stupid grin planted on your face.

“Mhm, gonna try my damn hardest to,” he replies as he clears his throat.

“And what do I owe you for your services, Mr. Miller?” you ask in a flirtatious voice.

You hear his low chuckle in the receiver, and it makes you giggle in response. “You don’t owe me nothin’, sweetheart. Just wanna make sure you’re safe,” he says with a light laugh. The sound makes your heart pound against your chest. Sweetheart. Safe. The words nearly take you out. He’s such a gentleman.

“Alright,” you say with a giggle. “I guess I’ll let you get back to work,” you sigh, not wanting to hang up on the handsome man that has your heart beating erratically for those gorgeous honey brown eyes.

“You be careful goin’ home, darlin’. Text me as soon as you make it there. I mean it,” he says with a serious, clipped tone.

“I promise,” you say back in a non serious tone.

“Okay. Well, I’ll talk to you later, beautiful. Remember, as soon as you get home,” he reminds you with a knowing tone in his voice.

“You got it. I’ll talk to you later,” you slur into the phone.

“Alright. Bye, gorgeous.” With that he hangs up the phone as you hear the line click dead. You throw your phone in the passenger seat and turn up the radio as Breaking Benjamin blares through the loud speakers. You nod your head to the beat and start to drive off, praying the car gets you there in one piece.

The glowing check engine light stays on the entire drive home, but you make it back safely. You park the car in the hooded garage and turn off the engine, letting it sit idle in the cool room. Whenever you make it through the door, you run straight into your dad as he almost spills his hot coffee all over his pressed white shirt.

“Shit, sorry dad! Didn’t see you there,” you apologize with frantic hands that steady the coffee cup in his hand.

“Careful now, I have a Zoom meeting in five minutes!” he sighs with the hint of agitation in his voice.

“Sorry, dad,” you apologize again.

Before you head to your room, you turn and tell your dad about your messed up car. “Oh, dad, before I forget to tell you. Joel’s coming over tomorrow to take a look at my car. The check engine light came on, and he’s gonna try to fix it for me,” you say lightly.

“Why didn’t you just ask me first? I could’ve taken a look. You sure asked Joel pretty quick there,” he says with his eyebrow raised and the hint of suspicion in there.

You gulp and try not to let your widening eyes give you away. “Oh, uhhh. I just thought you’d be too busy to take a look at it, and you know how good he is with fixing cars,” you shrug innocently.

“And you thought he’d be less busy than me tomorrow?” he asks with the tic of his jaw and wondering eyes staring questionably at you.

Your heart is in your chest and you feel the faint drops of sweat forming on your forehead. “I mean, I just didn’t want to bother you is all. Figured once I told you then you’d just tell me to ask Joel anyways,” you lie with a straight face, keeping your composure together.

He looks at you a few seconds and then nods, face relaxing a little. “Yeah, you’re definitely right, hun. That’s exactly what I would’ve done. Alright, well I need to hop on this call, so I’ll see you later.”

He turns into the direction of his office and you round the corner into the entryway and relax against the wall, breathing out a long sigh of relief. That was close. Too close for comfort.

You head up the stairs and back into your bedroom filled with lilac walls and scents of vanilla and citrus hanging in the air. Apartments. You need to find an apartment and fast.

The air is stuffy and hot in the garage, even though the autumn breeze blows gently outside as it carries red and golden leaves across the driveway. You’re wearing a light blue hoodie and cut off black denim shorts while you sit atop the wooden workbench in your garage. You gently kick your dangling legs off the side of the workbench and stare at the most gorgeous man working on your car. Joel Miller.

You watch the way he picks apart every single wire and car part he can get his hands on. His tousled dark curls sit slicked back against the top of his head by sweat that cakes his forehead, his grey t-shirt bunches around his thick arms every time he flexes and reaches under the hood, and his hands stay covered in grease and dirt from tearing apart your car piece by piece.

You can’t help but gawk at how ridiculously hot he is right now, can’t help the way you bite your lower lip seductively and run your tongue across the bottom of your lip in hopes to get a taste of him. You start to wonder what it’d be like to be bent over the hood of your car while he takes you from the back, start to imagine how good it’d feel to have his thick cock between your slick center as he fucks you senseless into oblivion. Can’t help the burning need in between your thighs as you squeeze your legs together and choke down a moan as slick starts to pool in the center of your lacy underwear.

“You alright there, darlin’?” he asks with concern hinting in his voice as he washes his hands in the garage sink, stepping closer to you as he wipes his hands off on a bunched up rag. “You look a little flushed there,” he says as he steps in front of you, just a few inches from meeting your knees.

“Umm, yeah. I’m fine. Just got a little hot, I guess,” you gasp out, nervously panting as your jaw drops open.

He slides up to you and stops right in front of your thighs, locking his knees up with yours as his t-shirt sticks against his broad chest and bulging biceps. You can’t help but stare at him and his pretty brown eyes with flecks of gold that sneak out and catch you unawarely. You want to run your fingers through his messy greying hair, want to wrap your arms around his neck and kiss him until you taste every single part of him as you unravel yourself around him.

“Why don’t you close your jaw, sweetheart. Gonna start drooling if you keep it up,” he smirks as he cups your chin and helps you close. You swallow away all the heat and try to calm yourself as he stands before you, but you can’t. He’s too much, too fucking much.

“Sorry, couldn’t help it,” you say flirtatiously as you bat your long eyelashes at him, feeling your blush paint the edges of your cheeks crimson.

“You gonna tell me what you were thinkin’ about?” he asks with the tic of his jaw, leaning his weight against the bench as his hand gently brushes your hip.

“I was just thinking how hot you looked leaning over the hood of my car. And your messy curls, how I want to run my fingers through them right about now,” you smile as he leans against you, taking his other hand and placing it against the top of your thigh as he gently runs his rough hand down to your knee.

“Oh, yeah? S’that right?” he laughs as he takes his other hand and pushes your thighs apart, stepping in between them as he runs calloused fingers up and down your smooth skin, turning your breaths ragged from the heat of his massive hands on you.

“Mhm,” you choke out, already worked up from his light flirting and the weight of his thick fingers on you.

“What else were ya thinkin’ about, hmmm?” he hums out, his eyes growing darker by the second.

“I was thinking…” you start as you run your fingers through his damp curls, making him groan as your nails scrape lightly against his scalp. “How good it’d feel if you fucked me on the hood of my car,” you purr, whispering into his ear seductively. You feel the bulge in his jeans already starting to form, feel how turned on he’s getting at the thought of you spread wide open for him on the top of your car.

“Christ, baby. Such a dirty girl, aren’t ya? Wantin’ me to fuck you senseless while I make you cum all over my cock. That’s what you want, ain’t it? To make you scream my name while I make you cum again and again and again…”

His voice lowers with a growl as he wraps his hands around your hips and drags you forward, ending right on the edge of the workbench as your legs clench around his back, his hands moving over the denim of your shorts as he snakes a hand up under the material, finding your soaked lace absolutely ruined for him.

You choke out a moan as he dips his fingers under your lace, slowly spreading your folds as his thumb finds your clit and circles you meticulously, stifling another moan out of you as you dig your fingers into his back and wrap your legs tighter around him.

“So fuckin’ wet for me, sweetheart. Such a good girl. Always ready for me. Always so needy, ain’t that right?” he smirks as he continues circling you, making your heels dig into his back as you slide a hand through his messy curls and drop your lips to the shell of his ear. Ragged moans leave your lips as he pushes two fingers inside your dripping hole while his thumb continues dancing over your throbbing bundle of nerves.

“Feels so good, daddy,” you pant, biting down on his earlobe as you hold in a loud moan while he circles you faster, getting you all worked up over him. You hear the sloshing noises of your wetness and his fingers pumping in and out of you, and it’s so fucking hot that more slick slides down your center as you start to come apart around him. You’re so close, almost there already.

“That’s right, baby. Daddy’s gonna make it all better,” he coos, curling up his fingers inside you as he hits the spongy part of your walls that elicit another moan deep into his ear as your toes curl in your Converse.

“Joellll,” you whine into his ear, dragging your fingers against the curls that sit matted to the back of his neck.

“What is it, baby? Can’t handle daddy’s fingers, huh?” he teases as his lips ghost across yours effortlessly. “Tell daddy what you want,” he smirks, speeding up the shift of his thumb against your aching clit.

“Want you…. oh, God,” you moan as he curls his fingers inside you nice and slow, moving them up further as you latch around him tighter.

“Go on, finish your sentence,” he smirks with clenched teeth as he works you over nice and thoroughly.

“Want you to fuck me,” you whine against the shell of his ear.

He clicks his tongue and shakes his head. “Can’t fuck you here, sweetheart. Don’t want your father findin’ you with my cock buried deep in that wet pussy now, do ya?”

You whine out as your breathing becomes hard to control, tattered moans filling his ear like a choir of angels. “No, don’t want that,” you gasp out, your fingers tangled in knots against the back of his soft t-shirt. “I want you though. Want you so fucking bad,” you groan as he continues building slick around his thick fingers.

“Wanna put this hard cock inside that pretty pussy of yours. Wanna fuck you so hard over this bench right now that you won’t be able to stand for the rest of the night. Wanna cum inside that drippin’ pussy while you moan my name as I take you from the back,” he growls as he fucks his fingers up inside you deeper, hitting the spongy area again and again as you feel your orgasm about to take flight.

“Want you to moan my name so loud when I make you cum that everyone in the neighborhood knows just who you belong to,” he growls with clenched teeth as he presses down harder on your clit, rubbing it in just the right area that you feel yourself start to spill. You feel the white hot heat start to take over as your eyes roll back and you clench up against his fingers that continuously curl up inside you.

“Joel, I’m… I’m coming,” you moan as you bite down on the scruff of his jaw, feeling your orgasm wash over you as you close your eyes and bite back your moan as you let him have it.

“That’s it, baby. Such a good fuckin’ girl. So good for me,” he praises as you take a few seconds to come out of your blissed out daze, his fingers gently releasing out of you as he brings them up to his mouth and sucks, staring at you with blown out pupils. Your eyes go wide as you watch him drink down your cum, humming to himself as he licks them clean.

“Taste s’good, darlin’. Can never get enough of you,” he purrs as he pulls your drenched underwear back over your cunt and straightens your shorts out again. You grab the back of his neck and pull him toward you, planting your lips over his as the taste of sweat, black coffee, and you enter your mouth. He wraps his hands around your hips and slithers his tongue into your mouth, letting you taste all of him as his senses envelop you, sweat and all.

Before you can get lost in him anymore, you hear the jostle of the doorknob and the squeaking hinges as the garage door starts to open. Joel jumps back out of your reach and grabs the bottle of synthetic oil off the back of the shelf, drawing his dark eyes away from you as you compose yourself with a quick breath and legs that clash together.

Your dad looks up at you with concerned eyes and purses his lips. “Honey, you feeling okay? Your face is all flushed and your eyes are so wide they look bloodshot.”

Your blood runs cold as you gulp down your nerves and flick your eyes over to Joel, watching as he stares at your idle car as he runs a hand nervously up the back of his neck. “I’m okay, dad. Just got a little too hot is all,” you say as you fan yourself with your hand, trying to get rid of the flush of your crimson cheeks.

“Oh, sorry about that sweetie. Want me to get you a bottle of water?” he asks with a gentle nod your way.

“Yeah. Thanks, dad.”

“Alright, honey. Be back in a minute.” He turns to Joel and slaps him on the back in a way that best friends only do. “How’s the car looking? Figure out what’s wrong?” he asks as he looks around the open hood of the car.

Joel loosens the top of the oil and sets it down beside the front wheel. “Yeah, there seemed to be some loose wires that got tangled around each other. I fixed ‘em. The serpentine belt looks to be pretty worn out, so I can stop at the hardware store tomorrow and get a new one. Should be an easy fix. And the car needs an oil change, so I’ll get that done real quick. Then it should be good to drive smoothly,” he says as he plays with the used towel in his hands.

“I can’t thank you enough for doing this, Joel. You sure do take care of my little girl,” he smiles in thanks.

Joel smiles back and chuckles. “Anything for your daughter, George. I always got her back.” He turns your direction and winks at you secretly, making your cheeks turn bright red at the secret meaning behind his words.

“You’re a good man, Joel Miller. Maybe one of these days I can get you to go on a date with one of Claire’s friends. Trust me, some of her friends already drool over you. Should ask one of them out. Could use a woman around the house. Maybe get you laid one of these days,” he teases as he claps a strong hand over Joel’s back.

Joel’s fists clench and his lips twitch at the mention of dating other women. You won’t lie, you feel a heavy weight against your chest and the tinge of jealousy runs hot down your throat. Joel would do no such thing. Mine.

“Nah, man. Thanks for the offer though. I’m good,” he responds. A breath you had been holding blows out, the wave of jealousy washing away as soon as he says the words.

“You sure? Wouldn’t hurt to at least have a night in with one of them. How long has it been, huh?”

“Dad!” you say forcefully, making both of them look your direction as you dig your nails into the wood, jaw locked into place. “Water?” you ask as you raise your eyebrows.

“Right, sorry. Be back in a minute.” With that he races back inside and slams the door shut.

“So, my dad’s trying to hook you up with one of my mom’s friends?” you ask with a raised eyebrow, mostly joking around with him.

“Don’t worry, darlin’. Already have my best girl right here,” he nods your way, curling his lips into a crooked smile. You can’t help but smile back at him and melt at his words. My best girl.

“That’s right. I’m your girl,” you say possessively.

“Damn straight you are,” he smirks, making butterflies flit through your stomach.

Your dad comes back with a cold bottle of water and leaves the two of you alone again, closing the door to go answer a phone call. As you let the fresh water quench your thirst, you watch Joel meander his way under your car, taking his time to change your oil out. You watch his soft t-shirt lift up just a tad, exposing thick dark hair that trails underneath the waistband of his jeans.

It takes everything in you not to go over and straddle him as he works, slipping your hand underneath his jeans as you pull his hard cock out and go down on him, taking him in your mouth nice and slow as you make his ropes of cum slide down the back of your throat. You hold back the temptation, knowing you can’t do that here. Not when your dad’s lurking around the corner of the house.

You sigh and watch him work, making light conversation with him as he puts the cap back on and crawls out from underneath the car. Grease stains his grey t-shirt, and he has a smudge of grease across his nose.

“Joel, come here. You’re a mess,” you giggle as you grab a towel from the metal shelf and jump down off the workbench, going over to stand in front of him. You wipe off the grease from his nose and wipe off his hands next, making sure you get off as much as you can.

“Baby, I could’ve done that,” he smiles as he grabs the towel from you, wiping off what he can from his ruined shirt.

“It’s fine, I wanted to help,” you shrug.

He looks at the grease stain on his finger for a second then back up at you, mischief written all over those hazy brown eyes.

You back up against the wall and raise an eyebrow. “What are you planning, Miller?” you ask suspiciously, holding in a laugh as you see the playful smirk pulling at his lips.

“Me, planning? Never,” he scoffs, the smirk planting firmly against the corners of his mouth. In a flash he cages you against the wall with his thick arms and smears some grease on your jawline. Your eyes go wide as he does it.

“Joel!” you whine as you push against his chest playfully. “That’s not funny,” you say as a giddy laugh escapes your throat.

“It ain’t funny, huh? Then why are you laughing?” he asks as a deep chuckle ruptures from his chest.

“Get it off, now,” you demand playfully as you try to grab the used tan towel from him. He grabs it back from you.

“I got it, I got it,” he laughs as he uses the pristine end of the towel to clean off the grease from your jawline. When he promises he got it, he throws the towel up on the workbench as you reel him in for a kiss. His lips are soft, plush, and they taste like Joel.

“Oh, that reminds me. I got somethin’ for ya,” he says as he breaks the kiss, digging around the back pocket of his dark faded jeans.

“You got me something?” you ask with a surprised lilt to your voice.

“Mhm,” he hums as he grabs his leather wallet and opens it up, digging around to find what he’s looking for.

“What’s the occasion?” you ask curiously, watching him dig around excitedly as his thick fingers push around old receipts and folded up papers.

“Don’t have to be an occasion to get ya somethin’, darlin’,” he chuckles. “But this is kind of an early birthday present, since your birthday’s next month.” He finally finds what he’s looking for and pulls out two tickets that have a matte gloss covering both sides. You flip them over and your eyes go wide at what the tickets say. Two general admission tickets to see Ghost at the Moody Center on November fourteenth sit carefully in your hands. You gulp back tears as you stand frozen in awe as you stare at the glossy tickets.

“Joel…” you gasp out, your eyes probably as wide as an owl right now.

“Thought you’d like ‘em. I know how much you’ve wanted to see ‘em for a long time. Took me a while to find out when they were gonna come to town, so I jumped at the chance when I saw ‘em post new tour dates. And Breaking Benjamin is gonna be their opener. I know how much you like them too and…”

You jump into his arms and wrap your hands around his neck as you thank him over and over again for the best gift ever. You grab his shirt and pull him in for a long kiss as you run your hands through his tousled curls. When you break the kiss, you stand back to look at him in his pretty face as your arms stay wrapped around his neck.

“You’re gonna take me to go see Ghost?” you ask sweetly with big eyes that water faintly.

“I’m gonna take ya to see Ghost,” he nods with a crooked smile as he looks down at you with brown doe eyes that you want to sink right into as they swallow you whole.

You pull him in for another long hug as his strong arms wrap around your waist. “You’re the sweetest, Joel,” you say as you plant your lips on his cheek, staying in his embrace for as long as you can.

“Anything for my girl,” he smiles as he cups your chin, bringing his lips down on yours again. When he pulls back, he keeps his calloused thumb trailing against your jawline, making you dizzy with lovesick thoughts.

“Hey, what’re you doin’ for Halloween?” he asks as he keeps his coffee eyes focused on you, his thumb trailing light circles across your cheekbone.

“I didn’t really have any plans. Sometimes my friends will drag me out to the bars or we’ll find a Halloween party to go to. How come?” you ask, eyebrows raised in curiosity.

“Umm well, you wanna come over to my place? We could watch some scary movies, make some popcorn, order a pizza. I know how much you like those classic horror movies. Would be nice to have some company,” he smiles shyly as the corners of his mouth rise up into a crooked grin. He’s perfect, so perfect.

“Joel Miller asking me to watch scary movies? You don’t even really like them,” you laugh as you hang around his neck, his left hand digging deeper into the side of your hip.

“Yeah, well. You rub off on me a lot. And besides, anything to make my girl happy. I jus’ like spending time with you is all, darlin’,” he drawls, his eyes glistening with flecks of light and dark brown mixing together to make a pretty coffee color. His crooked smile makes a dimple press against his cheek, and the lines against his eyes crinkle into complete warmth that fills the hard lines in his face. You think he’s the prettiest man you’ve ever seen in your life. Because he is.

“Joel… you leave me speechless. Truly. I’m so, so lucky to have you. You’re everything I’ve ever wanted,” you gush to him as you rest your forehead against his.

“No, darlin’. You’re everything I’ve ever wanted.”

You stifle out a laugh and bring your lips down slowly over his, this kiss more slow and romantic than all the other ones. Who would’ve thought you and Joel Miller would’ve ever been a thing? But here you are. Completely and utterly wrapped up in each other, and you just can’t get enough.

You hear the jiggle of the door handle and see the door opening fast into the garage. You jump out of Joel’s grasp and take a few steps back, separating the distance between him even though it’s getting harder to act like the two of you aren’t completely crazy for each other. You’re out of breath, still dizzy from all the emotions of the last few minutes with Joel. And he looks the same, pupils dilated and a flushed face as he looks up at your father.

Your father stops and puts on his glasses to take a closer look. “Joel, you feeling okay? Your face is flushed too. You good?” he asks as he hands Joel a water.

“Yeah. Just got up too fast from under the car. Should be fine,” he nods as he flicks his eyes over to you, the look of affection returning to his brown doe eyes you can’t get enough of.

“Alright, well dinner’s ready if you wanna stay. She made chicken enchiladas tonight, so pretty sure you’ll wanna stay,” he laughs.

“Sure, wouldn’t miss those,” Joel nods as your dad smiles back at him.

“Well, come on. Come and get it while it’s hot.” Your dad turns toward the door and goes through, leaving it open for you and Joel to follow.

Joel takes your hand in his discreetly and leads you through, rubbing the pad of his calloused thumb against the back of your hand, making you feel all tingly and giddy inside. Before he drops your hand, he brushes your knuckles with his lips and places a slow kiss against the back of your hand. You blush on the spot and smile up at him as he returns one back, and then he drops your hand as he walks into the light of the dining room.

Fuck. You have it bad for Joel Miller and you’re falling fast. Very fast.

Halloween Night

You spend the entirety of the afternoon getting ready for your night in with Joel. You shower, douse yourself in Victoria’s Secret Bombshell perfume, and pick out the perfect Halloween costume to wear. You go with a short black mini dress that barely grazes your thighs, the long sleeves hanging off your shoulder that leave your neck and the tops of your shoulders exposed to the cool air.

You carefully fix your hair into loose spiral curls and secure a long pink bow in the back of your silky hair. You apply shimmery pink eyeshadow to the hoods of your eyelids, draw perfect cat eyes with liquid eyeliner, and purse your lips after applying the shiny pink lip gloss. After slipping on a pair of black heels, you look at yourself in the full length mirror and grab the pair of fuzzy black cat ears as you top off your costume. Joel’s going to lose his mind when he sees you in this getup.

After nervously driving over to his house, you now stand on the front of his porch and wait for him to come open the door after you ring the doorbell. You pull on your sleeves, your legs shaking as the cold evening wind hits your bare legs. After a few seconds he opens the door and pulls it back.

“Hey, sweetheart. You…” His voice cuts off as his brown eyes go wide as he lets out a low whistle, slowly taking in your figure from head to toe.

You twirl around slowly for him, letting him see all of you and watch him fall apart. “Trick r treat,” you smirk. “Gonna give me something sweet to eat?” you purr, batting your dark lashes up at him sweetly.

You hear him curse quietly under his breath and watch him rake his hand slowly over his patchy beard. “Goddamn, darlin’. Such a pretty little kitty cat. And that dress, fuck,” he bites out as he gazes his dark eyes over your long legs. “Prettiest girl that ever stood in my doorway, that’s for sure. C’mere,” he calls as he grabs your waist and pulls you into his broad chest, pressing his lips against yours as you chase the taste of his black coffee scent you so desperately love.

When you pull away you click your tongue at him. “Thought you were supposed to have a costume on today?” you say with a raised brow, playfully pushing at his chest.

“This is my costume,” he replies with an amused expression on his face.

Your eyes trail down him slowly. He wears a Halloween black t-shirt, an open red flannel, and dark blue jeans that form against his muscular thighs. You shake your head and pull off your cat ears, placing them over his tousled dark curls as you position it to balance on his head perfectly.

You laugh as you take in the big, strong man with the fluffy cat ears on. “There. Now you have a costume on,” you giggle as he just shakes his head and pulls you inside while he shuts the door behind him.

“Funny, very funny,” he chuckles, a dimple forming against his cheek which makes you only melt more for him. “Wanna take ‘em back now?”

“Nope,” you shake your head, holding a laugh in as you watch him examine his face in the mirror, sighing as he takes in the fuzzy ears atop his head.

“I look ridiculous,” he groans, crossing his arms over his chest as his biceps pull at the red flannel, making you anxious to curl up against them on the couch.

“No, you’re adorable,” you respond, lingering your hand against his soft t-shirt as you curl your hand around it.

“Don’t think so, darlin’. That’s all you. You gorgeous girl,” he says with a low drawl, his caramel eyes honing in as he backs you up against the wooden staircase, wrapping his arms around your waist tightly. Before he leans in, the front door twists open and he pulls away from you in a hurry, putting as much distance between the two of you before Sarah walks in.

Your eyes grow wide as you weren’t expecting her to be here tonight. Sarah gasps as her eyes flick from you to Joel, clearly confused on what’s going on. Her long curls fall over her shoulders as she stands in a Cowboys jersey and black yoga pants with war paint smeared across her cheeks.

She says your name with questions ringing in her tone. “What are you doing here? On Halloween? Shouldn’t you be at a party or something?” she asks as she looks over your outfit carefully, her eyes going over to Joel as she takes in the cat ears that sit perched atop his head.

“Uh dad, why are you wearing those?” she asks as a giggle sounds loudly across the lit up hall.

He throws the ears off and hands them back to you, running a hand through his messy curls as he works to stay composed. “Don’t worry about it,” he says defensively. “And she came over so I could work on her car,” he confirms.

“But you just fixed her car a few days ago?” she says with raised brows, her eyes flicking back and forth between you and him.

“Uhhh yeah. But the light came back on this morning, so I brought it over. Joel said he could take a look real quick. I was just about to head back out. Shouldn’t take too long,” you say with a calm, collected demeanor, giving nothing away.

She eyes you both suspiciously and finally nods. “Okay then. Whatever you say,” she rolls her eyes. “But anyways, look at you! That outfit is so hot, my dad would never let me wear anything like that,” she pouts, crossing her arms over the orange jersey as it scrunches up underneath her.

“Maybe when you’re thirty,” he teases. She just shakes her head and sticks her tongue out at him. He chuckles out a deep laugh in response.

“Whateverrrrr,” she drawls out. She turns back to you and beams her pearly white smile as her curls bounce up and down as she moves. “Bet you’ve got all the boys wrapped around your finger in that outfit,” she smirks out. Joel’s eyes grow a shade darker as he focuses on you, trying his best not to say a word in response.

“Oh, I don’t know about that. Maybe just one,” you smirk, your eyes flicking over to his brown irises as you face Sarah again, careful not to give anything away.

“Oooooo you have a boyfriend? Why haven’t I met him? Is he cute? Is he a good kisser?!” she yells excitedly as she hounds you for information.

“Sarah!” Joel warns, telling her to calm down as his eyes narrow over her.

“Sorry,” she whines, giving you a small smile as you return one to her.

“What are you doin’ back here? Thought you were goin’ to your friend’s to go trick r treatin’?” he asks with raised brows, hands on his hips as his jaw clenches up.

“I am. Just forgot to grab my purse,” she says as she reaches around you and grabs her purple over the shoulder purse and heads back to the door. “Alright, heading back out. Guess I’ll see you sometime soon?” she asks as she looks over at you behind her shoulder.

“Yeah, I’m sure you will,” you nod her way, waving a quick goodbye to her.

“Sarah?” Joel calls before she heads out the door.

“Yeah?” she asks before closing the door.

“Not too late, alright?” Joel says with his brows furrowed together.

“Yeah, be back before midnight,” she promises.

“Sarah?” he calls out again, making her groan at the name.

“Huh?”

“Love you,” he says softly, his eyes crinkling at the corners as his face relaxes into happiness.

She smiles gently and nods. “Love you too, dad.” With that she closes the door and runs off to the burgundy Cadillac that awaits her out front.

You can’t help but smile at Joel, butterflies flitting through your stomach as you take in his soft side. He’s always so careful and gentle with Sarah, always telling her how much he loves her. He’s such a softie, and you can’t help but fall for him even more as you watch him.

“What?” he asks as he snakes his arms around your waist, backing you up against the stairwell again.

“You’re such a softie,” you smile as you wrap your arms around his neck while you run your fingers through the scruff on his neck.

“Only for Sarah and you,” he grins, dropping his lips down to yours as you drink him in again, feeling every surface of his plush lips against yours.

He breaks the kiss after a few seconds and pulls you into the living room. “C’mon. I’ll get the movie started then I’ll call in a pizza for us. Pepperoni?” he asks as he leads you over to the cream colored couch and sits you down against the soft cushions.

“Pepperoni,” you nod. He turns on the tv and pulls his phone out, heading into the kitchen as he calls Pizza Hut and places an order to be delivered to the house.

You take in your surroundings of the darkened room. Vanilla candles sit sprawled against the glass coffee table, the large display of the tv glows in the near distance as the menu comes up for the movie Scream. You hear Joel in the other room hang up the phone as he places it down on the counter.

“You want some popcorn, baby?” he asks from the other room, his voice carrying into the living room like a song you want to put on repeat.

“Mhm and a Dr. Pepper, please,” you call back.

“I gotcha, baby. Be right there.”

When the popcorn is done popping and the cans of soda are taken out of the fridge, he joins you on the couch and places one hand on your thigh as the other one presses play on the remote, making the movie hum to life as the beginning titles show across the lit up screen.

You take a sip of Dr. Pepper and pop some popcorn into your mouth as the buttery taste slides down your throat conveniently. You curl your legs onto the couch and fold yourself against Joel, letting your arms wrap around him as his arm flexes behind you. He pulls you tight to his side as his hand runs gently up and down your arm, causing your body to fully relax against him as you breathe in his cologne and woodsy scent. He smells like a piece of heaven, your piece of heaven.

He takes a drink of his Dr. Pepper and places it on the coffee table, leaning back into you as he adjusts himself into the back of the cushions and lays a soft kiss against the top of your head, making you melt beneath him.

When the scene of Ghostface asking Casey what her favorite scary movie is comes up, Joel mimics his voice and asks you the same thing in a more southern, non scary tone. “What’s your favorite scary movie?” he asks mysteriously as you giggle into his chest.

“You should know this one,” you answer back, eyes flicking up to his as he looks you over carefully before responding.

“Halloween,” he answers automatically.

“Ding, ding, ding. We have a winner,” you yell out, pulling a laugh from deep within his chest as you hear it rumble against your ear.

“Knew it,” he says proudly. “And what’s mine?”

You lay your head in his lap and look up at him, deep brown eyes staring down at you as he awaits your answer. He’s so pretty that it physically hurts. “Joel, The Lord of the Rings does not count as a scary movie,” you laugh out as he smiles down at you.

“Sure it does. It has spiders, orcs, dark themes.”

You push his chest playfully. “It’s fantasy. This is a scary movie,” you remark as you point to the tv, watching Ghostface chase his victim across the yard.

“Yeah, well. Still,” he vocalizes with a sigh. “Would you watch all of ‘em with me?” he asks faintly, his chocolate eyes glazing down to yours.

You turn to him and nod. “Of course I would. I’d watch amything with you,” you reply with a smile.

The corners of his lips curl up into a soft smile and he leans down and kisses you without holding back at all. He tangles his fingers in your curls and you open your mouth up, allowing him to slide his tongue into your mouth as he finds your tongue, dancing around as you drink down the taste of him slowly, passionately.

One hand slides down to your thigh as he grazes calloused fingers up and down your inner thigh, making you breathe heavier as he bites at your lower lip, heating up the room as the two of you start to get lost in each other. His hand reaches up, up, gently sliding the edge of your dress up your thigh, working his way nice and slow to where he wants to be. To your aching center that yearns for his touch.

Before he can make it any further, the doorbell rings, forcing the two of you apart as you lift up off his lap. He sighs as he pushes off the couch, muttering something under his breath that sounds like a complaint of interrupting him when he was busy with you. You giggle at his ramblings and wait till he comes back.

You hear the exchange of pizza and money and can smell the fresh cheese and pepperoni that wafts through the air of the dark living room. After another minute, Joel comes in and sets the pizza on the coffee table, telling you to eat up. You grab a slice and take a bite, letting the warm goodness fill your stomach as you set your eyes on the movie again, trying to keep focus on that instead of the handsome menace of a man that sits next to you.

“So, what’s so attractive about a killer that wears a mask? I don’t get it. With all the viral videos of masked men goin’ around, I don’t get the fuss. I even catch Sarah’s friends talking ‘bout it sometimes.” Joel shakes his head and takes another bite out of his pepperoni slice.

You giggle in response. “I don’t know. Guess that’s kind of a part of the dark romance culture now and can be kinda thrilling? A masked man in the bedroom. I mean, I get why they like it. It’s just something new and intriguing, a little dangerous, exciting even…” You stop there, not wanting to give away that you too might have a mask kink.

“Oh, is that right?” Joel smirks deviously, one of his eyebrows rising higher as he looks directly at you. “You into that shit, too?” he asks curiously as he takes his last bite, lapping his tongue along his lower lip and wiping away the last evidence of red sauce from his mouth. You try your best not to bite your lip, wanting to lick every single scrap of sauce off him slowly.

“I mean, I get the hype. Guess it would be kind of hot,” you blush, looking down at your lap to hide the crimson of your cheeks.

“I knew it,” he says as he claps a big hand on his thigh in knowing. “So you’re saying if I ever bought one of those dumb masks, you’d want me to wear it in the bedroom?” he asks as his eyebrows go up curiously while his hand digs into the back of the couch forcefully.

“I think I’d just prefer to see your handsome face, Joel. Besides, I don’t see you doing that anyways,” you laugh and hit him playfully in the shoulder.

“You’re right, darlin’. Don’t think I’d do that either,” he chuckles.

“But,” you lean into his chest and press your glossy lips to the shell of his ear seductively. “Think I’d let you put me in some handcuffs though,” you purr out as you tug on his earlobe and pull back with a sly smirk on your face.

You see the way his pupils expand and the way his chest rises and falls deeper as the blood flows thicker in the veins of his neck. You see the way he adjusts himself on the couch and clears his raspy throat. You started something, and now he’ll have to finish it.

You smile to yourself triumphantly and turn to face the tv, scooting up to the edge as you reach for your Dr. Pepper and take a refreshing sip, setting it back down on the glass coffee table when you’re done.

You hear Joel’s voice come out raspy and deep behind you. “Is that right, sweetheart? You’d let me handcuff those pretty wrists to my headboard?”

You squirm on the edge of the couch and press your legs together, feeling the heat start in your center like a volcano that’s about to rupture. “Mhmm,” you hum out carefully, trying to suppress a moan from coming out of your throat.

“Hmmm.” He leans over and presses his lips against the shell of your ear, his hot breath breathing down your neck and making you feel things you can’t control. “Think I need to go buy a pair of handcuffs then, sweetheart. Show you all the ways I can make you cum while you’re tied to my bed. What do ya think of that, huh? Sounds… erotic as hell,” he whispers darkly in your ear, leaving you panting for more as you keep your eyes focused on the movie on the big screen, watching Ghostface run down the stairs after his next victim mercilessly. He presses a gentle kiss against your cheek and scoots back into the couch, leaving you breathless and wanting.

Just when you think he’s done teasing you, he starts playing with your pink ribbon and runs his hands through your long waves, making your heartbeat gallop like the hooves of a racing Clydesdale against his touch.

“Such a pretty pink ribbon in your hair, baby,” he teases, starting to tug on your hair harder now as he pulls lightly on the curls.

“Mhm, it is,” you reply with a breath held.

“You know I love when you do your hair like this, in these curls. So long and soft to the touch. Can easily do this.” He tugs your head back and pushes you down into the couch. Your hands grip the side of the couch while your ass is up in the air, exposing all for Joel to see.

You feel his hands raise your skirt up to your hips, exposing the meaty flesh of your ass as you feel the cool air brush against the backs of your bare thighs. You hear Joel hum out in approval as he fixes his massive hands over your ass, one hand trailing down as his fingers brush the soaked material of your lace which makes a groan escape your lips.

“White lace, huh? Looks s’good on you, sweetheart. Already so wet for me, ain’t ya? Look at you drip, so fuckin’ wet, baby. Goddamn,” he whistles as he takes his thumb and trails a long line down your center, gathering more slick against the material. You whine out and he chuckles lightly.

“S’right, baby. Gonna make you really whine in a minute,” he murmurs as he slides the wet lace down your legs, gently unclasping your black heels and dropping them to the floor as he unhooks the lace from around your ankles and disposes them on the ground, leaving you completely bare for him to look at.

He slides his calloused thumb over your wetness, and you shiver with need. “Joel, please,” you beg, another whine purring out of you as you feel the pad of his thumb ghost across your clit, leaving you with a pent up cry in your chest.

“What do ya need, baby? Tell me,” he asks, barely touching your folds with the tops of his fingertips which makes you clench up over nothing.

“Need your fingers, your mouth,” you beg, your voice high-pitched from want. With need.

“That so, darlin’?” he teases as he spreads your folds with the tips of his index and middle finger, sliding them up until you can feel them pressed against your clit, drawing slow, meticulous circles as you hear the wetness gathering on his fingers.

“Oh, fuck,” you moan as you dig your fingers into the side of the couch, clawing your light pink fingernails as a way to get ahold of yourself before you’re lost into a sea of lust.

“S’right, sweetheart. I know exactly what you need,” he coos.

Before he takes it any further, he drops his hand from your center and lays back against the couch, leaving you out of breath and waiting. “Why’d you stop?” you whine as you turn in the direction he’s in and see him smirking up at you with trouble written all over his face.

“C’mere,” he calls as he curls his index finger in his direction, beckoning you to come over to him.

You look questionably at him and raise a brow. “What?” you ask as you slowly scoot your legs over his, dropping down on his hips carefully.

He clicks his tongue and shakes his head. “Not there, sweetheart. Up here,” he smirks as he points to his face. Your eyes go wide at the meaning.

“You want me to…” you trail off, unable to finish your sentence.

“S’right. Want you to sit on my face. C’mon now,” he smirks, a devilish grin taking over his face as his eyes grow dark. He places his hands on your hips as he slides you up his broad chest, stopping just before you get to his neck. You pause right there, blushing as all of a sudden you get extremely nervous.

“Joel…” you choke out, unable to finish your sentence.

“Don’t be shy, baby,” he says gently, lifting your dress above your hips as it exposes your bareness for him. He drags his eyes down your center and licks his lips, his eyes blown out as you feel his breath pick up beneath his chest. “Such a pretty pussy, baby. Drippin’ and screamin’ my name,” he groans as his eyes devour you in full. “C’mon now. Sit on my face,” he demands.

You gulp and scoot your hips up, hovering just above his mouth as you stay there, nervous and turned on at the same time.

“I didn’t say hover, sweetheart. I said sit,” he demands, digging his hands into your hips as he tries to lower you down, but you hold back, afraid to crush him.

“But won’t I crush you?” you ask with your breath caught in your throat.

“The only thing that’s gonna crush me is if you don’t sit the fuck down and ride on my face. Now sit!” he growls as he forces your weight down on top of him, the curls above your mound sitting atop his curved nose as he breathes you in deeply.

He inhales your savoury scent and drags his rough tongue all the way from your dripping hole to the tops of your folds, catching the end of your clit as you whine out with need.

“Goddamn, baby. Taste and smell s’good, darlin’. Hold on tight. Not gonna stop till I make you cum all over my face, not gonna stop till you moan my name, not gonna stop till you’re all mine,” he growls as he hooks his arms around your thighs and dives back in.

He slowly drags his tongue over all of you, slotting himself between your folds and lapping meticulous circles around your puffy clit. You feel more slick spill out of you and feel him take your bundle of nerves into his mouth, sucking and slurping as every single nerve ending comes alive against his mouth. When he releases, he shoves his tongue into your wet hole, plunging into your core as you vibrate and fall apart against him.

You twist your fingers into his tousled curls and moan his name with a lull, lost in complete bliss as he works his tongue up and down up and down, making the room foggy with the smell of your arousal and the loud moans you’re giving him. “Joellll, fuck,” you moan as you pull at his hair, sliding yourself up and down his mouth as you ride his face exactly like he wants you to.

He groans at your movements, groans at the way you tug on his curls as his tongue works and works to make you fall apart around him. He slaps your ass hard and digs his nails into your thighs as he speeds up his hot tongue.

He’s pulling, sucking, munching at your clit as you feel the building orgasm. You feel it start in your spine, sliding down to rest in the pit of your stomach as you’re almost there, feel it about to take flight as your toes curl and your fingers slip deeper into his wild locks. He knows you’re close, knows exactly what he’s doing. He can’t speak, too far gone in pleasuring you with his mouth, too deep with sucking your throbbing bundle of nerves again and again as his nail beds prod into your flesh.

He loves to feel you come apart, loves to taste your arousal drip down his throat, loves to hear you moan and thrive while you’re about to come undone, and loves when you pull his hair and moan his name while he has his way with you.

You grind your pussy against his mouth, feel how soaked you’re getting him, and it just makes you that much closer to spilling yourself all over him. You feel him groan against your folds, hear him practically whisper the words into your ear as he licks and sucks you repeatedly into his drooling mouth.

Atta girl. There ya go.

Say my name, sweetheart.

C’mon. Give it to me. That’s a good fuckin’ girl.

He pulls your throbbing clit into his mouth and sucks hard, setting off every single nerve ending in your body. He sucks nice and slow and you feel yourself fall apart right there on his hot tongue. You roll your hips and feel the heat slide down your body as you clench over nothing and spill yourself all over his mouth, hearing his groan as he laps up all your slick while you fist his hair roughly through your fingers.

You take a minute to let your panting die out and wait for your body to come back down to earth after your intense face riding orgasm. When you slide back to rest on his chest, you see just how drenched and glistening his mouth and beard are from all your slick and cum. And fuck is it hot.

He smiles up at you as he catches his breath, his blown out pupils relaxing into pure brown warmth as he watches you with admiration on his face. It’s probably the most beautiful sight you’ve ever seen in your entire life.

“Rode me s’good, baby. Love the taste of you,” he hums, his crows feet crinkling up at the corners of his eyes as you get lost in those pools of warm honey.

“Yeah, well, I have an excellent instructor with an experienced tongue,” you purr, winking down at him with a big smile pulling at the corners of your mouth.

He chuckles and responds, “Always happy to put my tongue to good use. Especially for you.”

You bite your lower lip and grin down at him, completely entranced by him. You’re so lucky, so fucking lucky. The luckiest girl in the world.

You shift off him and start to turn the other way as you move your legs away from his chest. Before you can crawl to the other side of the couch, he grabs your calves and pulls you back toward him. “Now where do you think you’re goin’, sweetheart?” he asks with an edge to his voice.

“Huh? What do you mean?” you ask as his large hands wrap around your ankles, pulling you back up to him as he tangles you around the roots of him, firmly planting you to his chest.

“M’not done with you yet, baby girl. You’re gonna give me another one,” he purrs, his deep voice thundering out of his chest like a bear ready to attack.

“Another one? But I’m… I’m so sensitive and…”

He shuts you up quick. “No, you’re not too sensitive. I know what you can handle, and you’re gonna fuckin’ take it like the good girl I know you are,” he growls as he drags you back up to him, hovering just over the edge of his mouth as you feel his hot breath connect with your wetness that’s already dripping for him again.

Fuck.

He wraps his strong arms around your hips and tugs you down where your folds are connecting with his plush lips, and the feeling is already overwhelming. But you need it, need him. You suck in a breath as he licks a long stripe up the entirety of you and you moan out for more.

“Need you so bad, daddy. Please,” you beg, digging your hands into the thighs of his dark jeans as your nails embed in him.

“I’m gonna give it to ya, sweetheart. Daddy’s gonna lick every inch of that pretty pussy,” he purrs as he licks another stripe up your folds, spreading you out to devour your needy clit.

You groan out and dig into his jeans, needing something to latch onto. When you open your eyes and look down, you see his bulge pressed against the thick fabric of his jeans, begging to be released.

You take your hand and grab around his thickness, working him through the denim of his pants. You hear him groan under your touch and bite your lip at the idea that dances through your mind. You’re going to sixty-nine with him. This is what’s going to send you over the edge.

You carefully unzip his zipper and free his bulging erection, taking him in your hand as you see the precum release from his slit and lap over the edges of his tip, working your hand nice and slow over him to spread the precum over his entirety.

His skin’s soft in your hand as you slide it back and forth over his large length, feeling the thick veins that spider around him that end just underneath the tip of his head. His head is red and swollen and screaming for you to taste him, and you’re happy to oblige.

Just as you meet your lips at his head and slide your tongue across his drenched tip, he shutters underneath you and lifts your hips just enough to speak as you feel the salty precum slide down your throat all hot and bubbly like.

“Fuck, baby. What’re you doin’?” he says with clenched teeth as you squeeze his cock, gliding your hand up and down his shaft as you turn to face him, smirking down at him with a devilish grin forming on your lips.

“What do you mean what am I doing? Isn’t it obvious? We’re sixty-nining,” you purr, licking your lower lip as you watch his pupils blow out into big black pits.

“Sixty-nine, is that right? You’re a dirty girl, kitty cat,” he smirks as he takes his index and middle fingers and pushes them inside you nice and slow, curling his fingers up to hit that spongy soft spot that makes you clench up against him and moan out slowly.

“That’s right, right there. That feel good?” he asks as you bite your lip and nod at him, choking out another moan as he curls his fingers higher, setting a wildlife throughout your entire core.

“Yes, daddy. Feels incredible,” you groan as you rock against his fingers, letting your own hand twist up and down his hard, wet length in your hand. You want to taste him, now.

“Fuckin’ sixty-nine. And with the prettiest girl in the world? Shit, baby. You’ve got me wrapped around your finger like that pretty pink bow in your hair,” he says with a gentle laugh that sounds a little like unbelief in his voice.

You giggle out a laugh as you stare at him as he smiles up at you between your legs. “Got you wrapped around my finger, do I?”

“Mhm, that’s right, sweetheart. All mine,” he says with a crooked grin curling up over his lips, sending your heart into overdrive.

“All yours,” you confirm with a soft smile.

He takes a minute to look at you, warm eyes focused on your face softly. Then his eyes shift into something dark and carnal as he brings you back down to his mouth.

“Well, go on, darlin’. I’ll take care of this needy pussy while you show me how good you can suck my cock,” he smirks, letting his fingers release from you as he wraps his arms around your thighs and pulls you down on him again. You choke out a moan as his tongue presses deep into your folds and up your dripping hole.

You focus back on his hard cock in front of you and go back down, circling his head as you lap up his salty precum and then dive down on him, taking his long length in your mouth as your hand slides up and down him slowly, savouring his taste on your tongue.

You take him as far in your mouth as you can, making sure you hit the back of your throat and choke on him while tears spill down your face as you take him deep in your throat over and over again.

You hear his moans fill the room as his tongue circles your clit, hearing your own moans get washed out by the sound of you gagging on his thick cock as your spit drips down his length and into the coarse hairs that cover his base.

The wet, sticky, messy sounds of Joel eating you out and the gagging sounds of you deep throating his massive cock again and again mix together, forming a wet, harmonious melody that reverberates off each other. It causes more slick to slide down your center as he licks and sucks and pulls on your needy clit. It’s too much, too fucking hot. This is the best, most intimate thing you’ve ever done. But you have a feeling this won’t be the end of it because he’ll want more, you’ll want more. It’s only going to get hotter, more primal, more possessive as you continue.

Joel Miller may be a fucking menace, but you’re no better. You’re a temptress spinning your web as you trap him, seducing him to you, pulling him and making him yours. Both of you wrapping each other into a complete tangle until both of you are completely, irrevocably bound to one another. Just like a moth to a flame, you’re pulled to him as he is to you. Two hearts beating wildly for the other just the same.

The room is hot and sticky as both of you get lost in each other’s ecstasy. Moans echoing off the walls as you both are close to orgasm, both so fucking high off each other that you never want to come down. You just want to stay where your bodies are panting in sweat as you continuously get lost in each other’s bliss and euphoria. You’ve never experienced a high quite like this before. Never experienced anything ever like this. It’s just you and Joel, two bodies completely consumed in the other with no plans of ever slipping away from each other. It’s just Joel.

Joel, Joel, Joel.

You start to clench up, feel your walls fluttering as they’re about to spill, feel the way he sucks your clit into his giving mouth as his tongue travels up the entirety of you, covering you in his own spit and drool. And it’s so fucking hot.

“C’mon, baby girl. Give it to me. Cum for me. Wanna feel it,” he groans as he pulls your clit into his mouth and sucks hard. And that’s when you come apart for him, that’s when you feel yourself let go.

You release your lips from his cock and feel a string of drool fall from your lips and attach to the tip of his head, thinking of nothing as you throw back your head back and moan his name as it echoes across the room. “Joellllll, fuck,” you moan as you release white hot liquid all over his mouth. He’s greedy and takes it all, licking you clean as you hear his mouth drink you up, leaving nothing behind.

You rub up and down his cock faster, feeling him stiffen underneath you as his breath goes shallow. Ragged moans leave his chest as he grips your thighs tight and moans out your name slowly.

“Oh fuck, oh shit,” he slurs as you lap at his tip, teasing him before you take him again.

“That’s it, daddy. Go on and cum for me. Wanna take you all in my mouth,” you purr as you wrap your mouth around him again, bobbing up and down as you deep throat him, hearing the gagging noises that send him over the edge. He’s right there, just on the edge. You go down again and hold your mouth there as you take him deep, feeling your throat constrict around his thick cock.

“Baby, m’gonna… gonna cum… oh, fuck,” he moans as you feel thick ropes of cum hit the back of your throat, swallowing his large load down as the salty, delicious taste dances down your tastebuds.

You work over his length nice and slow, not stopping till he’s finished cumming. And just when you think he’s done, he surprises you and pours out more inside your mouth.

You see his hand shoot to his sweaty forehead as he grabs at his messy curls, see his eyes roll back as he moans your name again and again. It sounds like music to your ears, something angelic and addictive sinking into your soul at just the sound of him cumming. It’s your sanctuary, your favorite tune in the world. And you’d never get enough of it, never.

When he’s finished sending his spend down your throat, you slowly release your mouth from him as drool cakes your chin. His cock is so messy with spit and drool that you blush at the job you just did on him.

You feel his chest heave up and down underneath you, his breathing gradually slowing down little by little. You take a second to catch your own breath, gulping down breaths of fresh air that smells like him. There’s something beautiful in the rhythm of both of your breaths in sync. It’s almost like you share the same heartbeat, something so intimate about it that you can’t even shake the euphoric feeling. It’s the best thing you’ve ever experienced. He’s the best thing. Joel is.

After a few minutes he helps you sit up as he pulls his briefs and jeans back up over his softening cock. When he sits up, he grabs your lace panties from the floor and pulls them up over your legs, securing them back into place over your overstimulated pussy. He pulls down your dress over your thighs and lays back down against the couch, bringing you down with him.

You sink into his side and wrap an arm around his chest as he cradles you in his arms gently. He takes his hand and runs it up and down your arm, leaving goosebumps over every square inch of skin he marks as his own. And this feels right, all of this feels right. He feels right.

He presses a kiss against your forehead and showers you with the perfect aftercare cuddles. He’s so good, the absolute best at aftercare. It’s always been your favorite ever since the first time he did it with you in this very living room that you sit in now. Joel Miller might be dominant in the bedroom, but he’s a big softie underneath it all. He’s the perfect combination of rough around the edges and pure honey everywhere else.

“Did s’good for me, sweetheart. Always do s’good for me,” he purrs as he places another gentle kiss over your forehead. “My perfect girl,” he whispers, and you can’t help but smile at the words. My perfect girl.

“Mhm, your perfect girl,” you whisper back as you snuggle into him more, sinking into his chest as his soft t-shirt scrapes along your jawline.

“I like the sound of that,” he laughs, his raspy chuckle that sounds like a symphony of guitars in your ear.

“Me too,” you whisper back.

As the movie comes to an end, Joel grabs the controller and puts on Halloween as you hear the theme song play from the speakers. He relaxes his arm back down around you and pulls you closer to where your cheek is nestled in the crook of his neck as he takes his other hand and runs his fingers through your waves. And this might be your favorite thing ever. Being in his arms. You never want him to let go. Never ever.

You feel yourself start to slip into unconsciousness, feel yourself relax into him as the darkness pulls you under. You don’t know when, you don’t know how, but after a few minutes of cuddling you and Joel fall asleep, wrapped in each other’s warmth as sleep takes you down fast.

And then something happens, something unexpected and unwelcome.

After what seems like hours of sleep, you’re woken up to the harsh lights of the living room being turned on. You jolt awake and sit up, blinking a few times to get your eyes situated to the fluorescent lights above. Joel rubs his eyes and follows your lead, adjusting to being woken up from a deep sleep. Your jaw drops when you see who’s standing in the corner of the room. Sarah.

Oh, fuck.

“I knew it, I knew!” she jumps up and down as her long curls bounce up and down along with her, a big smile spread across her face as she can’t seem to keep her excitement down.

“Shit,” Joel mutters under his breath as your eyes go wide in panic. You try to speak but you can’t. You’re frozen, not knowing what to do or say. You’ve been caught red handed.

“I knew it all along! This is so exciting! You and dad? Oh my God, I’m a genius,” she squeals as she jumps again.

“Sarah! Calm down,” Joel warns as his eyes narrow slightly. Sarah stops jumping but continues beaming at the both of you. You feel like your heart is about to come out of your throat. Your dad. What if she tells your dad?

“Sarah, you’re not gonna tell my parents are you? They’d kill me,” you rush out with your breathing uncontrolled. It feels like you're about to throw up with the knot that’s in your stomach. Joel notices your panic immediately and does what he can to calm you down.

“Hey, hey, look at me,” he urges as he cups your chin and turns you toward him, his deep brown eyes almost calming you down. Almost. “She’s not gonna tell them. Right, Sarah?” he asks as he turns to her, giving her that knowing look.

She imitates her lips being a zipper and acts like she zips them tight. “My lips are sealed. Promise,” she nods as she looks back and forth between the two of you, your anxiety slowly calming down at the confirmation.

“See? She won’t say a word. It’s gonna be okay, darlin’,” he confirms as he soothes you over, one hand rubbing your thigh to calm you down. You nod in acceptance.

Sarah calls your name and you look up. “I’ve noticed the way dad’s looked at you for a while now. Been wondering when he was going to make a move,” she laughs, shaking her head. “He’s liked you for a long time, even if he never told me. I could see it in his eyes.”

You just look over at Joel and smile at him. “Yeah, I’ve liked him for a long time, too,” you say quietly. Joel meets your eyes and smiles at you, the corners of his lips curling up to form those perfect dimples again.

“This is so cute, I think I’m gonna throw up,” she says as she claps her hands together.

“Alright, alright. Go on up and go to bed, it’s past your bedtime,” he says as he points at the clock that says five past midnight.

“Okay,” she groans. “Night, love birds,” she sings as she leaves the room and heads up the stairs.

“You sure she won’t say anything?” you ask nervously, anxiety still swirling through your gut.

“If there’s one thing she’s good at, it’s keeping secrets. So, think we’re safe,” he confirms as you blow out a breath you had been holding.

“That’s a relief. I guess she was bound to find out at some point, right?”

“Yeah, guess you’re right,” he says as he nods his head. His calloused thumb shifts against your jawline and he leans in and presses his lips against yours. You lean into him and get lost in his scent, in his abundance of warmth. When you hear the creak of the stairs, you pull apart from his lips fast.

Joel leans over the couch annoyed and peeks up at the stairs. “Sarah?” he asks in a deep voice, warning her to stop spying.

“Uhh, yeah?” she asks nervously.

“Bed. Now,” he growls. She obeys and runs up the stairs, not wasting a second of time. He sighs in annoyance. “She’s never gonna let me live this down,” he groans.

“Hey,” you say as you grab his hand and entangle your fingers in his. “I’ll be right there with you through it.”

He rasps out a chuckle and looks you in the eyes, calm brown eyes returning to look at you. “You want me to take you home? I can drop your car off tomorrow.”

You shake your head no. “Can I stay here tonight? Don’t really want to go home. I’d rather stay with you.”

“‘Course, sweetheart. You always have a place here.” He pushes a curl behind your ear and pulls you back in, planting his lips against yours as a warm wave of peace and serenity cloud your mind.

“C’mon. Let’s get you up to bed.” He pulls you up and picks you up bridal style as you squeal out and wrap your arms around his neck. You kiss his cheek and tuck your head against the crook of his neck as he carries you up the stairs. And somehow you know it’ll be okay. Things will turn out okay because you’re with Joel.

So when he pulls you tight against him under the sheets and you're wrapped in his t-shirt with his arms around you, you know you’re in good hands. Nothing can ruin what you and Joel have. Not even your dad. Joel has your whole heart and nothing can change that now.

Tags: @amyispxnk @janaispunk @blueseastorm @joelmillersblog @joelalorian @heartstoptrying @littlevenicebitch69 @getitoutofmymindwrites @akah565 @keylimebeag @dugiioh @laurrrra @untamedheart81 @roostersforevergirl @itsokbbygrl @pedrostories

Part 4

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 6 months

Text

WYD 1

Warnings: non/dubcon and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

Summary: A fan makes an offer your can't refuse.

(based on suggestion he's been overworking himself for weeks if not months. He knows he needs a break but his work is too important. Maybe what he needs is someone to take care of him so he can focus more on work. from @thezombieprostitute)

Characters: Bucky Barnes

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.

You can’t help but grin as you scroll through the comments. There aren’t many but those that are there give you that rush of adrenaline. More so, the interaction is great for your wallet.

As a faceless creator, your interaction is limited. You prefer the smaller community. Your might not be the most lucrative account on OnlyFans but it pays your rent, just about.

It’s the only secret you’ve ever had in your life and it’s a big one. You don’t think anyone would believe it. Not you. Not the librarian’s assistant on part-time salary in her corduroys and stuffy oversized cardigans.

It wasn't exactly an opportunity you were fond of, more of a last resort. You don’t fantasize about the men on the other side of the screen, as flattering as they can be. They have a similar sort of desperation, but the crux of it is somewhat more pitiful.

It’s the private message waiting for you that surprises you. That alone is behind a paywall, a feature many users forego when they’re only there for the quick wank. You shudder at the thought, often avoiding that reality of your side hustle.

You’re nervous to check but alone in the stacks, with not much else to do, your curiosity gets the best of you. You tap the icon and bring up the chat from BB. No profile pic, no info, just a message.

‘Are you interested in a private arrangement? 5k/week guaranteed.’

Great, a scam. You roll your eyes and close the app. Stupid. But why would someone pay for content just to try to con you. It’s a pretty big gamble.

You tuck away your phone and sigh, pacing up and down the aisle. The soft flutter of pages and stagnant silence. It’s so dull, you’d rather deal with anything else for the minimum wage and uncertain hours. Still, the freedom lets you tend to your other business.

A few minutes later, out of habit, you bring out your phone again. You linger in the blindspot of the cameras and unlock it. The app pops up as you left it. Another message.

‘Don’t leave me on read.’

The demand startles you. You should just block but you know that it’s money in your pocket. You’re not gullible, more greedy.

‘5k? Okay, sure.’

You press send and hide your phone behind your back and wander on. Your insides squirm. You’re not stupid enough to believe it. You look again at the end of the next shelf.

‘If you want more, we can negotiate. We’d have to meet to do that.’

You scoff aloud and quickly look around. There’s no one there to be disturbed. You evasively sit at one of the desk and hide behind the wooden cubicle that encloses it.

‘I’m not stupid’, you reply.

‘No, but you’re gorgeous. Pick the place. Let’s talk.’

‘Good luck finding whatever you’re looking for but it’s not with me,’ you type, skin razed and speckly.

‘I mean it.’

‘You’re not real. Your 5k is less real. Save your money and stop messaging.’

You wait, watching the screen. Your ears prick as you listen to the lull of the forgotten library. You can hear a cart rolling a few aisles back. You can’t get caught on your phone again.

A new notification blips up in the app before you can black the screen. ‘BB sent a tip’. You click it without thinking and bring up the tip; $1,000. A thousand? A message pops down and you quickly flick the chat back over the screen.

‘Believe me now?’ He challenges.

You take a breath and lock your phone, tucking it up your sleeve as you stand and turn down an aisle, passing the approaching cart as you refuse to look at the employee behind it. You go to the catalogue computer and pretend to tidy the little paper slips and pencils. You wait until the wheels squeak onward.

You slide your phone out and press your fingertip against the censor. The screen opens and the next message taunts you.

‘Give me a place and time’.

You hesitate and peek around, paranoid that others could read your mind just by looking at you.

‘Send a pic. Then I’ll meet,’ you counter.

‘You first, doll. Face for a face.’

You don’t like this and yet, you’re messaging.

‘After you,’ you insist.

No answer. You shake your head and put your phone back under your cuff. You carry on and head up the stairs to the next level. When you look at your phone again, there’s a response waiting for you.

A man with bright blue eyes and a sculpted jawline. Handsome, almost breathtakingly so. Your surprise is undergirded by your insecurity. Well, might as well send your own and let him change his mind. You scroll through your miniscule collection of selfies that don’t make you cringe and send one off.

You can’t look away as you wait. You know what’s coming. Rejection. Finally…

‘Place, time. Make sure to buy yourself something nice.”

You stare at his answer, dumbfounded. Are you really going to do this?

#bucky barnes #dark bucky barnes #dark!bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #of!reader #WYD #marvel #mcu #drabble #series #au #winter soldier #captain america

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frankieburieshisdead · 2 months

Text

ℬ𝓇𝓊𝒸ℯ 𝒲𝒶𝓎𝓃ℯ 𝓍 ℳ𝒶𝓁ℯ ℳℴ𝒹ℯ𝓁 ℛℯ𝒶𝒹ℯ𝓇

cw: NSFW

~ You liked modeling enough. It was exciting, and new, and you got to meet a bunch of people you otherwise wouldn't. For instance, if you could go back to the skinny, slightly effeminate brace face in rural Smallsville and tell him he would be hanging off the Bruce Wayne's arm at a promotional after party in Gotham he would laugh in your face. But here you were, and here he was, all 6ft (6'7? 6'8? God he was intimidating) wrapped around your shoulders, two of the girls from the shoot on his other side. You didn't know either of them very well, but they we're kind to you whenever you crossed paths, and it was always nice to see more black models in the industry.

~ So why did you feel so much vitriol towards them? This ugly feeling curling in your stomach every time Wayne leaned slightly towards them, slightly away from you. You chopped it up to star power, pure unadulterated charm that came with being one of the richest men in the Americas, but as long as it had been, you still remembered what it was like it have a crush.

~ It was hard to not have a crush on Bruce Wayne. He was confident, ridiculously so, but not the kind of confidence that made you feel small. When you arrived, he asked you "Do you like dark chocolate? I can't stand the stuff but for some reason people keep giving it to me." You could see he was lying, and that maybe he had just wanted to give you an expensive box of chocolate without making you feel like you owed him anything. It made you feel special.

~ It didn't take him long to invite the whole party back to his manor. His home was beautiful. Like a castle in one of the picture books your gran used to let you borrow from her job at the library. You told Bruce that, and he had smiled so genuinely you hadn't stopped blushing for the rest of the night.

~ You ended up asking yourself up to his bedroom. One of the bottle girls had popped the cork right over you, drenching your pants in sparkling cider. She had been so apologetic, and you hadn't wanted to make a scene, so you stumbled up the stairs in into the nearest unlocked door you could find. You closed the door behind you, stripping out of your soaked jeans to dab them clean in the joining bathroom.

~ "Not that I'm complaining, but I have to say it's not everyday I find pretty boys stripping out their clothes unprompted in my bedroom." You must have jumped about a foot in the air, hiding behind your thread bare trousers. "Oh god Mr. Wayne I'm so sorry, I just needed- there was this champagne girl- and well-"

"Relax, I'm just teasing." You looked at him properly now, his weary tone bleeding past your initial embarrassment. He was propped up against the bedpost, shirtless with one hand clamped firmly over his ribs. There was a mean purple blotch under his fingers, and his chest rose and fell in stutters. He was in pain.

"What happened?" You were across the room the next second, pants forgotten on the floor as you scooted next to him in your briefs. There was a slight blush across his chest and cheeks. Maybe he was drunk. Maybe you were.

"Got into... a brawl. Nothing serious don't worry." You got the feeling he liked that you were worried. You wondered how many people worried about Bruce Wayne. You had seen an older man in butler attire fussing over him when the party first got here. You hoped he was looked after.

"Well... I best get going." You were inches apart now, you could feel his harsh breath against your top lip.

"Best." He replied, curling his lip to mirror your Midwestern accent.

You fell into him first, crashing your lips against his as his arms came to grip your biceps. He lifted you with an insane show of strength, you squealed into his mouth, ending off in a giggle. He gave that genuine smile again.

~ You were straddling him now, grinding down on a ever hardening length. He gasped into your mouth, squeezing almost painfully as he pressed you firmer against him. He was massaging the v on your waist, teasing just above where you wanted him.

"Can I?"

You nodded manically against his shoulder, the both of you generating a frantic energy. He dipped down, palming you through your underwear.

"Protection?" You managed to pant out, remembering every talk your granny had drilled into you since you came out.

"Bedside drawer."

~ 3 hours. You kept going for 3 hours after that. He had taken you, knees pressed up against your shoulders, hitting all the right spots until you had come dry and untouched. He was still hard inside you, panting and you squeezed your way through your orgasm. He was kind, clearly straining to not thrust forward while you were so sensitive. You hooked your legs behind the dip in his waist and tugged him forward. A dare. The result of which had you on your hands and knees panting and keening after your third, fourth? climax. He was good afterwards as well. Sweet. He held your head up as he poured water from a sealed bottle down your throat, petting through your slim locs. You woke up tucked against his side, unsure if he had even slept a wink as he stared down at you. He had to go, but he had arranged one of the cars for you as soon as you wanted to leave. The butler, Alfred, had cleaned and dried your jeans while you were asleep, although Bruce had made it clear you were welcome to his extensive wardrobe. You giggled, imagining getting back to your apartment in a pair of 1000$ tracksuit pants with the ankles rolled up to your calves.

~ When you finally made it back to your apartment, you patted down your jeans, pleading to whoever was listening that you hadn't lost your keys in the chaos of the previous night. Instead, you pulled out a neatly folded parchment paper, thumbing it open to find barely legible handwriting reading:

555-0199

Call me if you liked the chocolate.

END

#dcau #dc #fanfic #bruce wayne #queer bruce wayne #bruce wayne x reader #bruce wayne x male reader #x male reader #x male y/n #oc #y/n #dc smut #x reader #might make this a series idk #romcom tropes

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evergreenfields · 1 month

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Model Behaviour

Your neighbour Captain Price is looking for a hobby, you suggest an art class.

Little does he know you’re the nude model.

Rating: fluff, swearing, flirting, descriptions of a nude female body.

Pairing: Captain Price x fem!reader

You’d started talking to your new neighbour, John, when he was moving in, you watched him bring boxes in throughout the day, his jumper coming off to reveal a t-shirt over a bulky chest. He didn’t tell you too much about himself but you had gathered he was military. He sometimes wore a hat and had excellent posture, standing completely upright and then shifting his weight to one leg, relaxing. You sometimes caught him on his way back from a run and you would chew the inside of your mouth at the sight of his tight grey jogging bottoms, he probably didn’t look in the mirror before he left the house.

You saw him again in the post room, he had a healthy stack of brown envelopes.

“That’s a large parcel, need a hand, love?” He sauntered over, marvelling at the long parcel.

You try to hoist it up, “it didn’t leave the floor, did it?”

John doesn’t waste a second, he lifts it effortlessly.

“I was heading up anyway.” He’s already out the door.

“Oh thank you,” you rush to open the doors for him and you catch the elevator.

It’s a tight squeeze and you face each other. Only the tall box is between you. You reach past his trim waist to press floor five, avoiding eye contact and ignoring his cologne.

“Are you liking the area?” You ask him, trying not to look at his strong hands on the box, dark hair covers his tense forearms.

“It’s charming. Quieter than I expected.” He smiles, you feel like he’s alluding to his job but you don’t want to pry.

“It is very quiet here. If you do find yourself free on a Thursday evening, come down to the Evergreen Library, I do life drawing there.”

“An artist? Well aren’t you full of surprises.” The elevator dings on your floor and he gestures for you to go first. You hold your palm against the doors.

“You go at your own pace, there’s wine too.” You say as you unlock your door, expecting to take the parcel over the threshold.

“I can pop this in your living room if you like?” He waits for your go-ahead, you find his respectfulness thrilling, it makes you want to do filthy things to him. You unlock your door.

“Thank you, near the table is fine.” He puts it on the floor and taps it for good measure.

“So Thursday, is it?”

“Yes, you don’t need to bring anything, just yourself.” You smile warmly.

“I’ll do that.” He smiles, rubs his hands and steps aside to leave, “goodnight y/n.” You try and make space in your narrow hallway but he still has to side step out of your way. He smells like beechwood.

“Goodnight John.” You try his name on for size, you like how it sounds in your mouth. You close the door and the giddy energy over takes you, you dance to your bathroom to get ready for bed and think of what you’ll wear on Thursday.

~~~

Hands on his hips, John wonders what one wears to a life drawing session. Currently in a towel slung low on his hips from a shower after his run, he decides on a casual plaid shirt and black jeans with boots.

“Steady on John, you’re out of control with your wild evenings ey.” He chuckles to himself, acknowledging that forgotten but familiar feeling in his stomach and chest. He’d moved in recently and hadn’t quite felt like he belonged, which wasn’t unusual for someone who’d spent their entire life in the military, but he couldn’t deny he liked being around you. He felt he was probably a little too old for you, but your invitation gave him an idea. Single for a while, and for good reason, John thinks of this as a new start, though he isn’t sure what he’s doing, he knows he wants you. In some way.

He thinks about how sweet you were in the elevator, looking everywhere but his eyes, rushing to hold the doors open. He caught you looking at his arms. He also caught your figure as you opened your door, all curves, soft and smelling like flowers. He liked that you had introduced yourself when he moved in and asked him to hold a parcel for you when you were away. Sometimes he didn’t see you for a few days and he’d have to push the disappointment out of his mind.

He trimmed his moustache and beard in the morning and gave himself a once over, feeling foolish for being so invested. It was just a way to while away an evening. He slipped his phone into his back pocket and headed out into the crisp autumn evening.

When he arrives he tries not to rubber neck too much, trying to find where you were seated. The librarian who pointed John to the studio gave him a double take. The studio was dusty and large, tall windows filtered in what light was left of the evening. There were around 20 people already sat waiting, sharpening pencils and pouring themselves small plastic glasses of wine.

John tried to ignore the feeling of disappointment when he didn’t see you. Maybe she leads the session, he thought, not really considering what she meant by “I do life drawing”. Watching the others, he grabbed cartridge paper, a pencil and charcoal from the head table. He sat at one end of the room, facing the centre were a few stools and seats covered in a towel.

“We’ll start in a few minutes, please help yourself to some wine.” A man said.

Feeling overdressed, John looks around. What am I doing here? He thought as he saw a young woman open up her sketchbook with pages of incredible drawings of people. I can draw one hell of a stick man if it all goes to shit.

John considers going up for some wine but he catches a figure in a bathrobe enter the room. There she is, but his smile drops when you enter the circle of easels.

~~~

You don’t see him but you were searching for him. You haven’t felt this nervous to pose nude since your first time. You nod at a few regulars, scanning your peripherals for your neighbour.

You slink out of your bathrobe and you decide on a standing pose with one arm above your head, legs together, poised and coy, your face looking up at the ceiling.

Is he even here? God I hope he is. Your thoughts are joined by a cacophony of pencil scribbles.

Meanwhile, John is fighting for his life. You’re facing away from him and he already dropped his pencil once. Jesus Christ, he feels bad for looking at your naked body. He swears everyone just heard him swallow. He looks to his left, a young man stares at you, then down at his sketch book and then back up at you.

John looks at how tendrils of your hair falls across your shoulders and the gentle hollow of your lower back. Your curvy hips and swollen butt have gentle shadows. He follows the lines of your body down your legs. He had imagined you naked, and he was short changing himself: you were far more beautiful, with soft skin, muscle under a layer of mass, and elegant lines he wanted to taste with his tongue.

Unfortunately all he had was a pencil.

He started drawing your shoulders, painfully aware of a tightening in his lower stomach.

Someone says there’s only a minute left for this pose and John knows he is going to need a drink. He carefully gets up and walks the short way to the wine table. He unscrews the lid with a smile, she wanted me to see this. He pours himself a small glass.

You swing your arms to get some life back into them and decide to lay across the wide stools for your next pose.

Looking ahead you see an empty seat. Your heart flips. You’re facing it as if sleeping on your side. Your breasts pushed together, nipples pebbled from the exposure. Your hip juts out but your leg hides your mound ever so slightly. You close your eyes because you know who’s footsteps you hear coming back to their easel.

You try to hold your smile in but when you open your eyes, you fail.

You see John sitting languidly on his seat, legs spread, glass of wine in his left hand, his right hand on his knee. For a moment you think what a sweetheart for wearing a nice shirt but then you take in his deep blue gaze. His eyes are darker than when you saw them in the elevator, or the post room, or the stairwell. He looks hungry, you feel like you’re the only people in the room.

You maintain eye contact with him while his eyes wander the rest of your body. It’s electric being underneath his gaze. He picks up the pencil. You see his eyes travel over your breasts, down to your stomach and past your legs, then back to your eyes.

You break eye contact, still trying to deny your smile, hoping no one else noticed who you were looking at.

~~~

“I do life drawing was a stretch.” John approaches you, passing you a glass. You’re in your casual dress now, the biggest smile on your face. You feel like you’ve been caught red handed and you revel in it.

“I may have been slightly disingenuous.” You laugh, “thank you.” You take the glass, immediately taking sips because you don’t want to talk and ruin whatever this was.

“See you next week y/n, great lines!” A young woman waves.

“Great lines!” You repeat the inside joke.

John smiles, you looked so happy, in your element.

“I’m an old man, you could’ve killed me with this stunt.” John says quietly, “you are absolutely stunning, love.” He says even more quieter, low so you have to concentrate, the world evaporating around you. His eye contact is devoted, fevered.

“I was sure you could handle it.” The wine giving you courage to look him in the eyes. “Your sketches were pretty good.” You touch his forearm.

“Bollocks.” He laughs. You enjoy how he towers over everyone in the studio, the greys in his beard more apparent as well as his thick neck, chest hairs just visible at his spread collar.

“They were pretty shit,” you laugh “why did you give me such tiny hands and feet!” You’re both laughing, giddy.

“Alright wind your neck in - I’m coming back next week, so get used to naf drawings.” He reaches out and taps your bicep, giving you a wink. You like his light and respectful touches.

“Would you consider posing nude? You’d be very welcome from the usual men we get.” You say quietly.

“Is that so?” He waits for you to dig your ditch deeper.

“Mmm hmm.”

“Older? Greyer?” He teases.

“I prefer built and distinguished.” You tease back, disarming him with your clothes on, for a change.

“Any excuse to get my kit off, ey.” He teases, quietly.

“I asked nicely.” You sass him back quietly, hyper aware of the people topping up their glasses nearby.

“Can I walk you home?” He asks, waiting again for your go-ahead, knowing you’d be walking in the same direction anyway.

“I’d love that.” You say, heart hammering in your chest.

You left the stragglers in the studio and walked into autumn night side by side laughing about something. John felt light, unburdened and content. You were feeling emboldened but nervous, you didn’t want the night to end but you had a feeling John was not one to push, he seemed old school and traditional.

You both reached the fifth floor landing, finishing a story about his job taking him to the Adriatic Sea.

“Y/n, I’m going to be away for the next few days,” your heart sinks, “but when I know my schedule, I’d love to take you out, you know, the proper way.”

“Proper way?”

“Clothes on.” He said while standing straighter like a drill sergeant. You burst out laughing, blushing at your own audacity of inviting him to the session. You were never very good at flirting.

“I didn’t hear you complaining.”

“You’re right about that.” His eyes smile. You want to fall into them.

There’s a pause and you reach out on tiptoes, you kiss him lightly on his cheek, his hands are light and fleeting on your waist.

“Goodnight, love.”

Once you’re in your flat, you wave at him through the gap in the door, of course he’d wait to see me indoors safe, and why did I bloody wave?! You lock your door and quietly squeal, feeling the ghost of his hands and gaze on you.

John drops his keys on the kitchen counter and leans against it, laughing. She’s something else, he thinks. He unbuttons his shirt, knowing he’s going to need a cold shower if he wants to get a wink of sleep tonight.

#captain price x female reader #captain price x y/n #captain price x you #cod fanfic #john price x female reader #john price x y/n #captain price x reader #john price x reader #john price x you #captain price

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thewritetofreespeech · 1 month

Text

Astarion x Reader

words: 2.6K

rating: E

pairing: Ascended!Astarion x Tav (female)

tags: heterosexual sex, fingering, sex on a table, vampire nibbles, soft ascended!astarion (sort of), cazador servants

summary: why do formal tables have to be so long? luckily they are also sturdy. [x]

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He’d been lost in the halls of the palace for hours. Though he had lived here all of his undead life, 200 years of being trapped in these walls, Astarion had never been allowed to roam free. There were still secrets to the palace left to unlock. Secrets that Cazador had kept from them, far worse and far more subtle than the grand temple he had built in the ‘basement’.

Now that it was all his, Astarion felt this incredible urge to leave no stone unturned. Partly to understand his new home. Mostly, just to spite Cazador still.

“Master Astarion.” He turned around fast to see Vilhelm standing there. Still getting used to his new role and that he could be here in the library as he wished. The human, for his part, seemed perfectly comfortable in his new role. Funny how a tenday ago he would have spit on his shoes should they pass in the hall. Now he was quick to lick them should Astarion ask. “Dinner has been served and the mistress is waiting. But if you would like! I can have it sent back to the kitchen and await your orders.”

“No, no.” He tutted at the man. Who seems an odd combination of relieved and terrified at being corrected. “A gentleman never keeps a lady waiting.”

He had no idea that dinner had even been prepared. Nor that that was something to be expected. Now that he had ascended, the hunger that tormented him for centuries had finally been sated. He wondered, as he walked the halls with Vilhelm just behind him, if he could ever be hungry again. Would ever be hungry again.

The doors to the dinning room open for him and Astarion stepped in to observe the marvelous setting. His beloved at one end of the table while candles, silver chaffers, and decorative fruits littered the mahogany all the way to the other end. “Are we expecting royalty?”

“The master…I mean…the old master preferred a formal setting when he supped.” Varderola explained. A fact that Astarion would never know because he had never been in this room to eat, only to be paraded in front of Cazador’s guest before being shunned off to dine on his dinner of rats. He truly never even knew that Cazador ate anything. “But if the master would prefer-“No.” Astarion cut in quickly with a wave of his hand. “No. This is fine.” If it was good enough for Cazador, certainly such effort was good enough for him.

He walked over to Tav and gave her a kiss on the cheek, before going to his seat at the other end of the table. Less impressed with the table setting now that he was at one end of it and her at the other. Astarion could barely see her through all the candles & greenery.

“How was the tour of the palace?” He looked up when Tav spoke. Syrin poured her wine while Vilhelm on his left did the same. “Find any bodies stuffed in a trunk somewhere?”

Astarion chuckled. “No. Not yet.” This all felt so straight.

A few months ago, he would never have dreamed to be sitting here. He would have been absolutely terrified to even consider it. Now, here he was. Free, all powerful, the people who once shunned & ridiculed him waiting on him hand and foot, richer than probably any noble in Baldur’s Gate, beloved by the most beautiful woman in the realms. Things he had dreamed of when he was shackled below, where just one of them seemed out of reach. Now he had it all.

“Is everything alright?” Tav’s voice broke him out of his thoughts again. Speaking of so far out of reach….

“Yes, it’s just…you’re so far away.” Though it still seemed strange, the comedy of all this being for just the two of them was starting to sink in.

“Oh. Well. That’s a quick fix.”

Practical, yet as impulsive as ever, Tav simply picked up her wine and her plate at walked over to his end of the table. The servants seemed mortified, but Astarion was grinning ear to ear. Of course, a simple solution.

A new chair was brought up for her and she sat down to continue their meal. As if she hadn’t just broken probably 14 etiquette rules with her stunt. “I’m glad you liked your tour. I was nervous you might have found it…overwhelming.” Her concern for his well-being, even as he was all powerful now, made his chest feel tight and his cock hard. “But I had a thought. What if we redecorated this place? Made it our own?”

Astarion sat back in his seat and sipped his wine. Leaving his rare meat untouched. “Hmm…I suppose. Cazador always did have the most abysmal taste.” He could say that out loud now. “I don’t think one thing has been updated since I was here. And that’s saying something.”

Tav scoffed. “I’m sure it will take time. And money.”

“Which is no object now.”

“And of course I would want your opinion on things.”

“Of course you would darling.” Astarion replied with his standard, jovial way. “We certainly can’t have your design expertise lead the way. The whole place would be swords, pelts, and big shiny rocks you’ve found.”

“Ha ha….” He tried to hide his grin in his wine glass. “Besides that, I wasn’t sure if there would be anything you’d want to keep. Something….sentimental?”

“You could literally pack up everything in this place and throw it into the sea for all I care.” Sentimental. What a disturbingly odd word for these walls. “Honestly, do whatever you would like. Fill the ballroom with peacocks. Paint the walls whatever color you wish. Tear the walls down if you would like. Just, one thing I do ask,” he sat his glass down and took Tav’s hand in his, “you leave the bedroom design to me.”

He kissed her hand and watched her face flush. Suddenly he was very hungry. But it wasn’t for food.

“Get out.” He heard the shuffle of feet around them, but Astarion wasn’t looking at anyone but Tav. Once he heard the doors close and latch, he surged forward. Ensnaring them in a brutal kiss. Hot and heavy. Intoxicating as much as the wine on their lips.

The hand still wrapped around Tav’s held tighter and pulled forward. Jutting her out of her seat as he fell back. Making her a new seat in his lap. Astarion grinned, all teeth, against her lips as he nipped at them. His hands all over the soft silk on her hips and back as she sighed breathless into his kiss. He’d have to remember that she needed to breathe more than him now.

“Where did you get this lovely dress?” He asked as he gave Tav a chance to do that, but still peppered kisses over her chin, neck, and delicious neck.

“I uh…Syrin found it for me….” Her responses were staggered. He had to assume that it was hard to think in the fog he was creating. “Said I should dress for dinner.”

“You needn’t do anything you don’t want to, my treasure.” Astarion told her. “If you wish to dress down, or simply be naked, then that is what you will do. Personally, I would prefer the former. Though I doubt either one of us would get anything done in a day if this perfect body was on display all the time.” The only thing they would ‘get done’ was each other. “However, I just wanted to make sure this wasn’t one of your favorites as, although it is lovely, it’s in my way.”

The silk stood no chance against him as Astarion gripped the fine material and under tulle and ripped. Tav let out a gasp as he broke her dress skirt free. It didn’t sound like one of alarm or shock, but one of arousal. One that was quickly confirmed when she rolled her hips against him. “Astarion….”

He felt that hunger grow in him again and he pulled Tav down for another long kiss. That perfect body that had slayed goblins, monsters, undead, and near gods, writhing & quivering against him in desire. It was truly more than a man could dream of.

Holding onto their kiss, Astarion blindly fumbled behind them against the table. Then, with one sweep of his long arm, sent his dinner, her dinner, the cups, the silverware, and napkins all tumbling to the ground. All of it made a horrible racket of shattered glass and broken plates, but Astarion couldn’t hear anything over Tav’s panting and the soft moan she made when he lifted her up and sat her down where all of it once was.

He pulled back to look at her. His beautiful consort. Laid out on the table on display and the picture of want. The only meal he was interested in now. “You’re radiant my treasure.”

Tav gasped. A soft sound past her lips as his cool fingers ran from them down her bodice, fingers flicking over the gold, before slipping under the edges of her torn skirt. Her shoulders lifting off the table a little with another soft gasp when he touched her entrance.

The candlelight flickered across her face in a mesmerizing dance as he continued to toy with her. “Astarion….”

“Do you like that my love.” He leaned over them to give Tav a soft kiss. To be that much closer when he whispered. “Tell me what you want.”

“I want you.” Simple. Practical.

“I know you do my sweet. And you have me. As I have you. Aeterna Amantes.” He had meant what he said. They would be together forever. Gods willing, even after that. Surely there was some method to his new power that would make it so. But, for now, “I want you to tell me what you want. Right now.” Tav let out a sharp gasp when he ran his thumb over her clit and curled his fingers inside her the way she liked. “Let me feast on your words.”

“I want you to fuck me.” Astarion smirked. What a vulgar little kitten. Gods how he loved that something so beautiful could be so….dirty. “Fuck me Astarion. I want to cum on your cock. I want you to cum inside me. I want to feel you inside me when you cum. Fuck me right here on this table.”

“My sweet, sweet treasure.” He pulled his fingers free from her cunt. Her thighs quivered a bit at the loss as he undid his trousers. “How could I say no?”

He stripped out of the rest of his clothes quickly. Like a new alabaster statue for the dining room. Then he gripped Tav’s hips and yanked her to the end of the table. She made a surprised sound but bit her lip seductively right after and spread her legs wide. ‘That’s my good girl.’

Astarion lined up and thrust forward when she opened her legs for him. His treasure let out the most delicious moan when he filled her. Her back arching high off the table. Hands scrambling for purchase on the wood as she tried to anchor in the wave of pleasure. He himself felt a bit overcome, and just had to take a moment to hold still and run his thumb over the soft embroidery of her bodice with his hands still at her waist.

With his newfound abilities, his senses were also sharper than they had ever been. Even sharper than when his treasure first let him start feeding on him and he knew what feeding on thinking creatures was like. It was like the world had gone from being in a fog or dim torch light in a cave to bright, vibrant display all around him. All the colors. All the sounds. All the tastes and touch. He wanted to explore all of it. And, especially, explore all of that with Tav right now.

His hips pulled back and he thrust into her again. She called his name, and he did it again. Over and over until he was pistoling his cock into her. Much to her delight, apparently, as Tav moaned and squealed and panted beneath him.

Astarion grinned wickedly as he watched his beloved and the city’s hero fall apart under him. Beautifully taking his cock. Thrusting up to meet him in perfect unison like the perfect pair they were. That wonderful look of agonizing ecstasy on their face.

The vampire lifted one of Tav’s legs wrapped around his waist up to his shoulder. The change in position lets him thrust harder, deeper and they cry out louder for him. He kissed the inside of their ankle and gave them a brief glance before he sunk his teeth into it. “Ah…Astarion….” His beloved fell back against the table. Nearly liquid as he drained hers from her body. His thrusts slowing from a hard fuck to something more sensual.

He felt a little drunk. All parts of him consumed in this moment as he literally consumed Tav. Body and soul. Astarion’s fangs release from her flesh and his treasure let out a little whimper when he did. “That’s it my sweet. Let it go.” He reached down between them to rub her clit. A set of sharp inhales following as Tav seemed desperate to get air in her lungs to withstand this pleasure. “You wanted to cum on my cock, right? Feel me cum inside you? Well, as always, I provide. Cum for me, my treasure. Break open for me.”

His words and touch seem to do the trick as Tav’s walls were quickly seizing around his cock, while screaming out in pleasure from her orgasm. Music to his ears.

Astarion continued to thrust through her orgasm but quickly followed. Spilling his seed inside her, as requested, before he collapsed in his chair from exhaustion soon after. From this angle, he was greeted with a perfect view of her cunt. Red and swollen. Wet from her juices and his cum. He was tempted to lean forward and taste it. Dessert after his meal, if he could only get out of this chair.

The moment past though as Tav quickly sat up on her elbows and closed her legs. Spoil sport. “We ruined dinner.”

“So?” Actually, he had had his dinner. In case she forgot.

“But they worked so hard on it. I feel bad we wasted it.”

Astarion scoffed. Of course his beloved would feel sorry for the servants. She had a big heart for the less fortunate. Like him, or who he used to be. “Their job is to work. Not be appreciated.” He told her.

Getting a second wind, Astarion stood from his seat again and wrapped his arm around Tav as he stood between his legs. “Don’t worry about it. I’m sure some of it can be saved if you want a nibble later. I know I will.” He loved the sound of her giggle when he nipped at her ear. More music from his precious consort. “But, for now, let’s retire to our chambers and let them clean this up. We can discuss how to improve them. I’m thinking gossamer curtains, a four-post bed, and a mirror above it now that I can see my reflection with you in it.” Tav laughed as if it were a joke, but it wasn’t.

He would let her know about that later. Right now, he wanted to go back to the bedroom and sate this hunger that was still inside him.

His hunger for blood may have been sated with his ascension, but hunger for sex & Tav seemed stronger than ever now.

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mollysolo · 1 year

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A Midsummer’s Night

Pairing: Steve Harrington X fem!Reader

Summary: Steve can’t bear to spend another moment away from you, even in the middle of the night.

Warnings: Steve startling the reader, making her nervous/scared and sneaking into her bedroom, the reader taking Steve’s shirt off

Word Count: 1k

a/n: i hope y’all like this! also side note, i don’t know what it is about steve but he just gives off summer vibes. he’s like if summer was a person. and as always, feel free to send any requests you have for steve (or anyone i else i write for) to my inbox !

the gif below does not belong to me

It was currently fifty minutes after midnight and you had accidentally stayed up a little late reading a book you had recently gotten from your local library. And you would’ve gone to sleep after seeing how late it was but you were almost done with the book so you decided to stay up and finish it.

And not long after you decided to stay up longer, you were coming pretty close to reaching the last page when you heard the startling sound of someone trying to remove the screen from your window. And as a result of what you’ve been through with your friends in the past few years, you assumed that some monster from another dimension was trying to break into your room.

Although you did doubt that a demogorgon would take the time to make sure it could open your window without damaging your screen before coming in after you. But still just to be safe, you grabbed the knife you hid in your bedside table and waited.

Your heart was pounding in your chest and you wondered if this was the end for you when suddenly you heard the familiar sound of Steve speaking to himself under his breath, making you laugh.

“Dammit, stupid roof.” he muttered, scolding the roof next to your bedroom that your parents had recently gotten replaced. You assumed that he must’ve scraped his knee or something on the new surface.

Not wanting him to have to waste any more time trying to keep his balance on your roof, you set your knife down on your bedside table and walked over to your window, swiftly unlocking it and sliding it open.

“Care to explain what you are doing on my roof at…” you paused for a quick moment to glance at your alarm clock, “one a.m.?” you sarcastically asked him, your hands on your hips.

Steve stared at you for a few moments before he answered you, simply admiring how beautiful you looked in the moonlight. You were dressed in one of his shirts you had stolen a while ago and a pair of shorts. And to him, you looked absolutely gorgeous even with that annoyed look on your face.

He then smiled up at you like a clingy puppy who hadn’t seen its owner in a few hours, “I missed you.” he answered, looking as pretty as ever.

You softly shook your head and laughed at him again, “Get in here, you dork.” you said as you moved out of the way, still laughing.

“What? I missed my girlfriend. Is that such a crime?” he replied, causing you to grin up at him once he had fully entered your bedroom.

You wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him down a little so that you could press a kiss to his lips, prompting Steve to wrap his arms around your waist while he kissed you back, “No, it isn’t. But you are very lucky that my parents aren’t home this weekend.” you said against his lips before you kissed him again.

He awkwardly laughed in response at the sound of that, also feeling internally glad that your parents weren’t home.

You placed your fingers around the hemline of his shirt, then looked up into his eyes for approval, he nodded once. You effortlessly took his shirt off for him, like you had done it a million times before.

He then bent down and took off his own shoes and socks, placing them by your bedroom door. This left him in just a pair of shorts, making his soft sun-kissed skin exposed to the moonlight.

And once you were content with how comfortable he seemed, you took his hand in your own and led him over to your bed, moving the book you had been reading right away.

Steve briefly let go of your hand so that he could lay down on your bed first, motioning towards you with grabby hands once he was comfortable. You smiled at him again while you felt your cheeks heat up, he looked so perfect as he laid there.

You purposefully took your time making your way over to him, happily letting him yank you closer to him by your waist because he was becoming impatient. And while you got comfortable in his arms, he slid his large hands up the back of your shirt for a moment, smirking at the absence of your bra while he ran his hands along your skin.

“Can you turn off the light, Stevie? I don’t wanna move.” you asked him, a fake pout on your face as you looked into his eyes.

He chuckled at your actions and removed one of his hands from your back so that he could turn the lamp on your bedside table off. In the darkness, you had no chance to miss each others beauty because you both could still see the other person somewhat well due to you forgetting to close your window and curtains, the nighttime breeze causing your curtains to flow in the air.

The hand he had used to turn off the light quickly reclaimed its spot on your back and Steve pressed another kiss to your lips. This one however, was soft and slow, prompting your cheeks to heat up once again. But you weren’t complaining. You felt safer and calmer having Steve with you at nighttime anyway.

“I love you, Stevie.” you told him with another kiss to his plump lips as you began to rest your head on the long pillow right below your heads.

He snuggled into you even more as those sweet words fell from your lips, his head now resting right next to yours.

“I love you too, pretty girl.” he said while he moved his head over a little and rubbed his nose against your own, easily making heat return to your cheeks for what felt like the millionth time tonight. But again, you weren’t complaining. You’d gotten quite used to how easily Steve was able to make you all flustered during the time you’ve been together.

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piakae · 2 months

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babys-breath ☆— k. jungwon

synopsis ➔ jungwon decides to make a bouquet for you.

pairing ➔ florist!jungwon x fem!reader

genre ➔ fluff!!!

word count ➔ idk why i put this here

warnings ➔ stressed jungwon, incest NOT BETWEEN THEM OMG

a/n ➔ can’t spell jungwon without win. or whatever

The oak wood table with splinters and thorns sticking out of it rests under Jungwon’s gloved hands, flowers of all shapes, sizes, and shades popping out of various baskets around him. His laptop, that was over decorated with brand stickers, was displaying an unknown website’s article about flower’s meanings and messages.

You’d think he knew all about it, working as a florist and all. But when he curated custom orders and new arrangements for the week, he either copied photos or did exactly what the customer wanted.

Something about this arrangement caused a drop of sweat to appear, his fingers to rake through his already messy hair, and hands to shake with uncertainty.

It was for you.

Only yesterday were you watching a romcom in class, fangirling over the beautiful bouquet that the male lead gave to the female lead, all while Jungwon was critiquing the colours and choice of flowers that the man chose.

The boy on the screen, his name was Tim, totally blew his first confession, something Jungwon had visually cringed at.

You blow some hair out of your eyes, the strands distracting you from the drama, also leaning in closer to the screen. Jungwon’s cologne tricked you into thinking that’s how the male lead smelt, and the smell of your shampoo tricked Jungwon into thinking that’s how the female lead smelt.

‘Tim, I told you that we can’t be together.’

‘Why? Tiffany, you are the only one for me.’

‘Tim–‘

‘Tiffany, please–‘

You both inch closer, practically connected at the hip.

‘We’re cousins, Tim!’

Jungwon smiled at the memory of your disgusted face, deciding that he needed to get this bouquet over and done with before the sun went down, hoping to get it to you that afternoon. He let out an anxious sigh and eyed the several flowers surrounding him, feeling like he was about to be ransacked by some daisies and roses.

His eyes shined against the sunset cutting through the stores windows, a perfect bouquet held in front of him. It was the fifth one he made. First was too yellow, second was too big. Third was just sad (he then decided to buy a coffee), fourth was too happy. Fifth was insanely large.

This one was perfect. Yellow, orange, pink, white flowers perfectly clustered and spread, wrapped in newspaper because he ran out of plastic wrap and tissue paper on his fourth try. Jungwon bit his lip, nodding his head in pride.

He grabbed his bag with his fresh clothes, locked the store, then unlocked it because he forgot the bouquet, then locked it again.

“Jungwon?” Your voice rings out, pausing him in his steps. He shoved the bouquet behind him and looked up at you nervously. Fiddling with the stems behind him, he turns.

“Hey Y/n.” As you look him up and down, never seeing him in his uniform before, he suddenly realised he may have others things to be concerned about. “I’ve just- uh- finished my shift.”

You seemed to be returning from the library, still clad in your school uniform. Still beautiful to him.

You nod with a small smile, leaning to peak behind him. A baby’s breath flopped down, as did you smile.

“Are those flowers for someone?”

“What flowers?”

“The ones behind your back?”

He looked over his shoulder to the bouquet, and put his lips into a thin line. Your hair had perfectly fallen, one piece of it in your face that you promptly blew away. It reminded him of the drama, your concentration, your reaction to the disastrous confession. He did not want to be the Tim in this situation, especially the cousin part.

“These… are for you.”

You blinked, “What?”

“You liked the bouquet from that drama we were watching, the one with the cousins- you know how it was like terrible and weirdly incest-“

“-Yes! Yes I know, Won.”

He sighed and smiled, “So I made you this.” Jungwon brought it out from his back and nervously darted his eyes between the flowers and your reaction. A soft smile crept up onto your eyes, a shade of pink painting your cheeks.

“Thank you Jungwon.”

You stepped towards him and took the bouquet, smelling them, eyes glittering.

“This is amazing. You’re way better than Tim.” Your heart thumped at his laughter, and Jungwon looks down to where you’ve slipped your fingers with his too smoothly, blushing like crazy. “And I’ll give you extra brownie points if you pay for my muffin, we’re going to the café.”

@raevyng @enhacolor

#enhypen #enhypen fluff #fluff #enhypen x reader #enhypen imagine #enhypen fic #jungwon #jungwon fluff #jungwon x yn #jungwon drabbles #jungwon x reader #kpop

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brokebonewritings · 2 months

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Never Before, Never Again

Astarion x Fem! Reader

Tags/ Warnings: 18+, Angst, Abuse, Death, Mentions of Blood, Smut

Summary: It’s been six month since settling down in Baldur’s Gate with Astarion. After killing Cazador, you notice his aggressive nature taking over. How long will it take for you to be truly done with his wrath.

Word Count: 2.6K

A/N: I want to start off by apologizing but I felt so inspired after the new romance scenes in Patch 6. I also want to say that I will be writing a good ole, fluff fic with Astarion just to make up for this.

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You paced down the corridor of the palace you now shared with Astarion. It had been 6 months since that fateful night. The killing of Cazador had been eventful so to say and shortly after you had accepted his invitation to be his. Forever.

It wasn't the same. You started noticing it little by little. His attitude towards you had become increasingly aggressive. Feral even.

You couldn't shake off the feeling of unease that lingered in the air whenever Astarion was around. His once charming demeanor had turned into something darker. As you walked through the palace corridors, you couldn't help but feel a sense of foreboding creeping up your spine.

Reaching the library, you decided to throw yourself into your research. You were a scholarly warlock, after all. And work you did. For hours you studied magic texts, and the histories behind them.

As you sat in the dimly lit library, Astarion entered the room with a predatory glint in his eyes. His movements were slow and deliberate, like a predator stalking its prey. When you turned, you tried to shake off the feeling of fear that gripped your chest as he approached you.

"Darling, is this where you've been all day?" His voice was low and dangerous, sending a shiver down your spine. "I've missed you and your delicious body."

The room turned cold as his words sank in. Something had changed in him, something dark and possessive.

You swallowed hard, trying to maintain your composure in the face of his unsettling presence. "I've been busy with my studies," you replied, keeping your tone neutral despite the growing sense of dread in your heart.

The dread whenever he was around had only appeared in the most recent weeks. You tried to focus on the book in front of you, but his proximity was suffocating.

Astarion's hand suddenly shot out and slammed the book shut, causing you to jump in your seat. His grip on the tome was tight, his knuckles turning white as he leaned in close enough for you to feel his cold breath on your skin.

"Studies can wait," he whispered, his voice sending a chill down your spine. "I have other ways for us to spend our time together."

You had to play along. It was the only way to appease him. The only way you could escape.

"How is that, my love?" You say as you rise from your seat, taking his outstretched hand gently.

In a swift motion he pulls you in close to his chest. As he held you tightly against him, his grip almost bruising, you couldn't help but feel a surge of fear mingled with a strange sense of thrill.

His lips brushed against your ear, sending a shiver down your spine as he whispered, "I want to show you a new side of pleasure, my dear. A side that only I can unlock for you." His words were laced with seduction.

As he guided you out of the library and down the dimly lit corridors of the palace, you couldn't shake off the feeling of being led into the unknown.

You found yourself in a room you were very familiar with. The air was heavy with the scent of ancient magic, and as Astarion's eyes gleamed with an otherworldly light, you realized truly you were not in the presence of the man you one knew.

"Darling, did you bring me in here to ravish me?" You say as you begin to remove your silk dress.

Watching his eyes darken with hunger, his lips curled into a sinister smile. He circled around you like a predator assessing its prey, his fingertips trailing lightly along your skin, leaving a trail of fire in their wake.

He finally stops behind you and reaches around your neck to grip your jaw. His touch was both possessive and delicate, a stark contrast that sent a wave of conflicting emotions through you. As he tilted your head back to expose your vulnerable throat, you could feel the weight of his gaze burning into your skin.

Astarion's voice was a low murmur against your ear, promising whispered secrets and forbidden desires. "Oh, my sweet little morsel," he murmured, "I am going to make sure there is not a single place on your skinned that is untouched."

His mouth finds the pressure point in your neck and you moan as he gives it a gentle bite. You know he can feel you tremble beneath his hand. He trails his kisses lower until he is able to fully sink his teeth in.

You begin to gasp and writhe under his touch, the intensity of his grip and the sharp sting of his bite both arousing and terrifying. And then, as suddenly as it began, Astarion pulls away, leaving you breathless and exposed.

"Astarion!" You shout, hand covering the bite marks on your neck. "I told you to ask before doing that!"

"I do not need to ask permission! You are mine! I own you!" He grabs your arm pulling you towards him.

That did not stop the tears from beginning to drip down your cheeks. Everything he did not want to become, he was. After countless promises that he was the same rogue you had met that fateful day.

"Oh darling, do you see what you have made me do?" He whispers. "You know I don't like to shout at you."

Astarion's features softened as he saw the tears on my face, though his eyes remained distant and cold. He slowly released my arm and stepped back.

You take a deep breath, trying to calm the tremors in your body. "You need to control yourself, Astarion. You are beginning to change into someone I don't know."

"Of course I am changing. I am the most powerful being in this world." He walks over to the chair by his desk. "Are you doubting me now?"

Shaking your head, you couldn't help but to submit to the question. "No, no. Of course not, love."

He motions with his finger for you to come to him and you obey. When you approach him, he motions for you to kneel before him. Once again you obey his command.

"Here is what we are going to do, pet." He begins "You are going to be a good girl, and do as I say. Understand?"

You nod. "Yes I understand."

"Such a good girl, aren't you?"

He stands and steps forward grabbing hold of your chin and bringing you in for a searing kiss. Once he was satisfied, he pushes against your cheek causing you to fall back roughly. You try to catch your breath as you sit there, staring up at him.

"Get undressed, and sit on the bed for me, darling."

You stand and finally fully undress. You sit on the edge of the bed, feeling the silk sheets beneath you. You didn't know how to react at this point.

He stepped closer until he was looming over you, his shadow engulfing you in its darkness. Then, he reached down and began to trace the outline of your body with his fingers, starting at your neck and moving down to your chest.

"Spread your legs for me," he commands, his voice low and seductive.

You hesitate for a moment, but then you find yourself doing as he says, unable to resist his authority. He takes a moment to enjoy the sight before him, his gaze lingering on each part of your body that he intends to claim.

Finally, he leans down and kisses your inner thigh, his lips barely brushing against your skin. You tremble as he slowly makes his way up, his tongue tracing a path along the delicate flesh. Each touch of his lips and tongue sends shockwaves of pleasure coursing through you.

As his lips reach your most intimate place, you arch your back, your breath coming in short gasps. You feel him tease you, his tongue flicking against you, driving you mad with desire.

Astarion smiles, a wicked smile, as he notices the effect he's having on you. He pulls back slightly, giving you a moment to catch your breath before he begins to devour you. His tongue plunges inside you, sending waves of pleasure through you that threaten to consume you.

You can't help but cry out in pleasure, your hands gripping the sheets beneath you as his tongue moves inside you. You are completely at his mercy, your body arching and writhing as he takes you to heights you never thought possible. Finally, he pulls back, his eyes gleaming with triumph. He leans down and kisses you, allowing you to taste yourself on his lips.

"Now," he says, his voice low and commanding, "It's time for you to learn what it means to truly be mine."

You nod, still reeling from the intensity of the experience. With one swift motion, he grabs your hips as he flips you over. You lay there a moment, listening to the ties of his pants coming undone.

He lifts you up and positions you at the edge of the bed, spreading your legs wide to reveal your vulnerability. His powerful hands grip your hips, and he begins to enter you slowly, his movements deliberate, almost intimate.

You gasp in pain, then pleasure, as the feeling of fullness envelops you, overwhelming your senses. He moves harder, faster, and you can't help but arch your back to meet his thrusts, moaning his name over and over.

He continues to dominate you, his voice a low rumble in your ear, promising you more pleasure than you ever thought possible. Your body responds, writhing beneath him, your hands clutching the sheets, your moans echoing through the dimly lit room.

"That's it, my love," he growls, his voice low and filled with lust. "Take it all."

His thrusts became more erratic, his breath ragged, and you felt his grip on your hips tighten. Astarion's eyes lock on yours, and you see the intensity of his desire reflected in them. With one final thrust, he groans your name, and you feel him spill inside you.

When you feel him slip out of you, you can't help but turn yourself around to face him. You were met with the unpleasant feeling of a sharp dagger being pressed against your chest.

"Astarion?"

"I know exactly what you are planning to do to me, Darling."

The dagger you had hidden in the pocket of your dress was the exact one that was being held against you.

"Please Astarion, it doesn't have to be like this!" You begin to cry. The man you once knew and loved had been left in that chamber.

"Oh, but it does have to be like this." He presses the dagger a little harder causing you to wince in pain. "You were the last person I expected to betray me."

"Betray you?" You choke out, swallowing the lump in your throat. "I... I don't know what you're talking about."

"Oh, Darling." Astarion's voice is cold and murderous, and you can see it in his eyes. "We both know that's a lie."

He steps closer, the dagger still pressed against your chest. You can feel the cold metal prick you, causing you to jolt in pain.

"Tell me," he demands, his voice barely above a whisper. "What did you plan to do to me?"

"You are becoming exactly like Cazador, Astar-"

"Don't ever mutter his name in here again!" His voice seized with venom. "I am more than he ever was! Smarter, Powerful."

His grip tightened around the dagger, its edge digging deeper into your flesh, drawing a thin line of blood. Your heart raced with fear, but you couldn't help but retort, "And yet, you still lack control."

As he raises the dagger back to plunge it into your chest, you quickly maneuver and shove him into the bed without second thought. The knife falls from his hand and slides onto the floor near your feet.

You take a moment to catch your breath and gather your thoughts. This situation has escalated far beyond what you had anticipated, and now you need to act quickly to save yourself.

Staring into Astarion's eyes, his murderous intent shining back at you. With a surge of adrenaline, you push yourself off the bed and lunge for the dagger on the floor. You manage to grab it just as he jumps to his feet, ready to pounce.

With the dagger in hand, you cautiously back away from him, trying to keep your distance. "Listen to me, Astarion," you say, trying to keep your voice steady despite the trembling in your body. "You have hurt me beyond words can explain! I have had enough!"

"I have given you everything you have ever wanted!"

"And yet you have taken everything I needed!"

Astarion's eyes narrowed at your words, and he took a step towards you, menace radiating from him. You raised the dagger in front of you, preparing to defend yourself if necessary.

"You betrayed me, Darling. You lied to me, and now you want to take my life?"

You shook your head, tears streaming down your face. "I never wanted this! I just wanted.. I just wanted you to be the person you were before, but you've become someone else. Someone I don't recognize."

"I was always this person!" He shouts, you see his hands shaking with anger. "You could not change that even if you tried."

Astarion took a deep breath, his fists clenching and unclenching. You knew he was about to do something that would change the course of both of your lives.

"I'm tired of being your spawn, Astarion."

With that, Astarion lunged at you. The dagger that was held tightly in your hand was raised as you plunged it into his heart. His eyes widen in shock, his breath catching in his throat as the cold steel and wood pierce his chest.

Blood spills from his mouth before he speaks. "I thought you loved me."

"I did love you." You sob, "But I knew for a while that you truly didn't love me."

You watch as his body convulses for a moment before going limp. You step back, staring at the lifeless form before you. The room is silent, only the sound of your ragged breathing filling the space.

Taking a deep breath, the shock of the moment is still fresh in your mind. You never thought it would come to this.

You sink to your knees beside his body, the weight of what you've done heavy on your chest. The blood is still warm as you reach down to touch it, a single tear falling onto his skin.

"I'm so sorry, Astarion," you whisper. "But I had to do it. I had to save you from yourself."

Slowly, you rise to your feet, your legs shaking with the realization of what you've done. You take in the scene before you, the remnants of your love now tainted with blood and death.

Taking a deep breath, you wipe away the blood from your hands, leaving behind a red smudge on the wall. You grab armor from the wardrobe before finally leaving the palace. When you reached the door and opened it, the cool day air felt cool against your skin.

Looking back one final time, you realize just how trapped you had been. Now free, you felt the weight of sadness as you set out on your own once again. You would never let this happen again.

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neil-gaiman · 10 months

Note

Dear Mr. Gaiman,

I wanted to tell you about the first time I encountered a copy of “The Graveyard Book” and the events that immediately followed. It was 2012 and I was in the children’s section on the second floor of the library of the teacher’s college I was attending. It had rather a good children’s section and I was pleased to find a copy of “The Graveyard Book”. Being a fan of both your writing and graveyards, I decided to check it out. I tucked it in the waist belt of my backpack and continued browsing.

Rather than heading down to the checkout desk by my usual route, I decided to do a bit of exploring since I had some time before my next class. I’d been frequenting the library for several years at that point, so I was pleasantly surprised to find a staircase I had previously overlooked. I took it down to the first floor, but noticed that it continued farther down. The fact that the library had a basement was news to me as well.

At the bottom of the stairs was a door with a sign stating, “This door should remained locked at all times”. Now I’m not the sort of person who believes everything they read, so I checked it myself, and found the door unlocked. I thereby gained access to the basement of the library. It was silent, and shadowy, (yes, I had seen that episode of Dr. Who, that only made it better) full of stacked furniture and old books. I had a grand time exploring it before I had to go back upstairs, check out my book, and get to class. The next day I went back with a camera.

I may have returned one more time, it’s been long enough I don’t know if I made 2 visits or 3. Life got busy, I finished reading “The Graveyard Book” and returned it, and it was over a week before I tried the door again. It was locked. As it has been every time I’ve checked it in the intervening years.

I know it was likely a human error that led to the door being unlocked, not me having “The Graveyard Book” in my possession. But it’s more fun to believe that it was. So thank you, for opening doors.

You never know...

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cuubism · 4 months

Text

bookstore cryptid dream part 11 -- the kidnapping installment

“Whatever happened to that poetry book?” Hob asks one day, sitting with Dream in the living room. He’s not sure why it comes to him.

Dream looks up from his book on the history of chocolate, tilting his head in question.

“The cursed one,” Hob elaborates.

“Ah.” Dream closes his book, looking very serious now. “I locked it away, somewhere safe, suitable for books such as that.”

“Didn’t destroy it?”

“Releasing such magic can sometimes have… unintended consequences.” He shakes his head, as if remembering prior such instances. “Best to simply contain it.”

“How many books like that are out there?” Hob asks curiously. Every day, he learns some new thing about the world from Dream. And how dangerous some books can, apparently, be.

“There are a selection. They are rare. For most books, their power lies in the words themselves. No need for occult spells.”

“Huh.” Hob supposes that makes sense. “But you don’t lock those ones away?”

Dream shakes his head. “No. They can be dangerous, though.”

Hob is still wildly curious about these actually magic books. Not that he’d particularly enjoyed getting cursed, but still, he wonders if any such thing will ever cross his path again. He supposes he should hope not.

It is fascinating, though.

Dream is missing.

It isn’t like last time, when The Library itself had been gone. That had freaked Hob the fuck out at the time, but now, he knows what it meant — that Dream had felt The Library itself was under threat, and had locked it for safekeeping.

Now, The Library is still there. The door creaks open, unlocked, as Hob pushes on it, letting him into the tiny foyer and first winding halls of stacks. The selection changes periodically — today’s categories include HOPE & ITS DISCONTENTS, “Libraries” (rather meta, Hob thinks), Books of Emptiness (Hob takes one off the shelf out of curiosity and finds it, indeed, empty), and S P E L L S, most of which seem to be dictionaries, actually? Strange. But then, that is The Library.

This is the third day of Hob coming back to The Library in the hopes of finding Dream, and having those hopes dashed. Hope and its discontents, indeed.

Everything is in its place. But Dream is nowhere to be found. He hasn’t been coming home. His books are still on the nightstand, his cardigan forgotten on a chair in the cafe. His study is the same, too, cluttered with notes and journals, abandoned cups of coffee on desks and side tables.

It hurts Hob’s heart to look at, even more than finding The Library gone. The place feels empty without Dream there. As soon as Hob steps in the front door, he can tell Dream hasn’t returned, simply for how grey everything feels.

He hopes nothing’s happened, that Dream was just called away on some urgent errand in the middle of the day, when Hob was busy, and it’s taking him longer than expected to resolve it. Dream is criminally bad at using his phone, to the extent that Hob sometimes isn’t convinced he owns one, and might just have forgotten texting is something he can do. They’ll have to have a talk about that, because he’s giving Hob a heart attack, but still it’s the best case scenario.

But it’s the worst case scenario that’s swirling in Hob’s head.

Dream has disgruntled customers at times. He’d gotten into a fistfight with one, back when they’d first met. What if someone took their ire even further? Hell, what if the owner of that cursed poetry book came back for it?

Hob sighs, slumping into Dream’s desk chair. Even if something terrible has happened, he hasn’t the first clue how to go about finding Dream. He’s kept an eye out, while exploring The Library, for any indication of what could have happened, but to no avail. He’s well and truly starting to panic. The Library has doors everywhere. Dream could be anywhere.

His eyes land on Dream’s journals, still laid open on the desk. Normally Hob doesn’t pry into Dream’s notes. But these are dire circumstances. Hob’s going to lose it if he doesn’t do something.

He picks up the top notebook and reads the entry it’s open to:

— MG thought destroyed ack. lost 1916? JC report OAM magic picked up Sussex summoning what??

Hob groans. “Dream, could your notes be any more fucking unintelligible?” Apparently, his mind works too fast to write in full words, instead of just shorthand.

He flips through a few more pages of notes, skimming them, but not getting much. Then a few pages in, he finds a letter tucked into the journal. In someone else’s handwriting, it reads:

Dream—

You never use your goddamn fucking phone so here’s a note. You know I wouldn’t have to be so obscure if we could just use encrypted texts? Fucking luddite. Anyway. I found the damn thing. R.B. + Co. Pretty sure we’d know if they succeeded in using it so we still have time. I think I have a way in. If I retrieve can you neutralize it? AND FUCKING CALL ME WE’RE SHORT ON TIME!

—JC

In case you forgot how phones work: 020 9281 5555

Well, that’s something. The same JC from the notes? What exactly are the two of them trying to neutralize?

Hob has no idea. But at least he has a clue now.

Hob paces back and forth in his living room as he calls the number for “JC”, absolutely no idea who he’s going to get on the other end. But hopefully, they might know what’s happened to Dream.

“Hello?” A gruff woman’s voice answers the line.

“Hi, I’m looking for…” he doesn’t actually know her name. “…J?”

“What?”

“Look, I’m looking for Dream,” Hob says in a rush. Might as well lay it all out. “I’m his boyfriend. He’s been missing for three days.” Maybe “missing” is overstating it. But maybe it’s understating it. “I found your phone number in his notes and wanted to know if you’d seen him.”

“Likely story, pal,” she says with a scoff. “Dream keeps his boyfriend out of all the occult shit. And good thing, too. I wish I could keep myself out of it. What do you really want with him?”

It’s sort of gratifying that other people in Dream’s circle are also protective of his secrets, even if it’s frustrating in the moment. But, ‘keeps him out of the occult shit’? Exactly how much ‘occult shit’ is Dream dealing with on a regular basis?

“Exactly what I said,” Hob says. “He doesn’t usually disappear like this. His notes said you two were looking for something? Something dangerous?” Did Dream go after it? Is that what happened?

“MOTHERFUCKER!” she screams, and Hob pulls the phone from his ear with a wince. “I am going to KILL HIM!”

“Don’t hang up!” Hob yells before she can do just that. “Will you come meet me? I’ll give you my own address, if it helps. You know where The Library is?”

“The Library’s got multiple doors, mate,” she says, sounding marginally calmer now.

Right. Fuck. He gives her the actual street name this time, and she says—

“Be there in a mo’. Your idiot boyfriend’s got himself in a right mess I expect. Because he’s a fucking idiot.”

Just as Hob feared, then. “Tell me about it when you get here,” he says, and then, when she’s hung up, goes to gather Dream’s journals.

A smart, tough-looking woman greets him at the door to the cafe, which Hob’s closed for the time being, an hour or so later. “Johanna Constantine,” she says, sticking out a hand, which Hob shakes. “So you really are the boyfriend. Huh. Hob, right?”

“Yeah.” Hob isn’t sure whether to be touched or alarmed that Dream talks about him with his random occult acquaintances.

“He has a photo of you two on his phone,” Johanna explains. “Not that he uses it, the rat bastard. God I’m going to murder him when I find him.”

“Let’s sit down,” Hob suggests. He has coffee ready, more for something to do to still his restless hands while waiting than anything.

“Right,” Johanna says, as she sits down at a table. She gratefully takes the coffee he offers. “So, I’m choosing to trust you. If you fuck me over we will have a serious problem. Okay?”

Hob raises his hands in surrender. “I literally just want to find Dream. I’m worried sick about him.”

Johanna takes a long sip of her coffee. “Right. So. My business is managing occult stuff, yeah? Exorcisms and the like. Stopping it before it hurts anyone. I’ve been trying to track down this particular book. Spell book. Dangerous stuff. What it can do—doesn’t matter. It was thought lost for ages, or destroyed—wouldn’t that have been great. But Dream and I both wanted to get it off the streets, once it popped up again. There’s no good hands for that book to be in.”

“You two friends?” Hob asks.

“Eh,” says Johanna, “sorta. Mostly work friends, I guess. I first got Dream’s help with a spell book a few years back. He’s the best one to go to for that sort of thing, as I’m sure you can imagine.”

“Yeah,” Hob agrees, mulling over this whole side of Dream’s business he didn’t know about. It makes sense, though. Dream, the expert on all books. Even this book, whatever it is, must ultimately belong to The Library.

“And now he’s gone after this book,” Hob guesses. “By himself.”

“I told him I would retrieve it,” Johanna says, gritting her teeth. “All I wanted was his help locking the thing away after. But no. Had to do it all himself.” She sighs.

“It must have really concerned him,” Hob says.

“It concerned me!” Johanna exclaims. “All the more reason not to go alone! Idiot.” It’s said with fondness, though.

“So, what are we going to do?” Hob asks.

“We?” says Johanna, raising an eyebrow.

“Listen, I don’t care about the book—”

“You should,” Johanna says seriously.

“—Well, I don’t. But I do care about Dream. If he’s in trouble, then I’m not just going to sit here.”

Johanna looks at him appraisingly, then nods, satisfied. “Good,” she says. “I know who has the Grimoire, so I know where he’ll most likely have gone. How good are you with a cricket bat?”

“How about a knife?” Hob says.

She startles. “Christ. Alright, then. I won’t ask, but good.”

“Just tell me where to go, and I’ll be there,” Hob says seriously, and for the first time, she gives him a smile.

“I’ve been hoping for an excuse to give Roderick Burgess a good thrashing. Guy’s a prick. Alright, Dream’s boyfriend—let’s go get the stupid librarian."

It’s decided Hob should be the initial decoy because, according to Johanna, “people always think I mean trouble, and you have this sort of wholesome coffee shop owner thing going on. Knife skills aside.”

Hob’s not sure if it’s a compliment or not.

“He’ll definitely think he can scam you,” Johanna adds. That one’s definitely not a compliment.

So Hob goes to an event Roderick Burgess is hosting, showing off all his antiques. He brings with him an old book from The Library, ostensibly to “sell”. Forgive me, Dream, he thinks, as he pulls Magicks of the World off the shelf. Promise I won’t let him keep it.

It’ll get him in, he hopes. It’ll get Roderick Burgess’s attention, at least enough to let Johanna slip past. The book is proper old, nearly falling apart, and while it may not be actually magic, it at least is about magic. He hopes it’s enough.

“Remember,” Johanna says, as they’re stepping up to the door, “just keep his attention. I’ll search the house to see if I can find Dream, or the Grimoire.”

“You really think he’s keeping Dream hostage in this house?” Hob asks incredulously.

Johanna snorts. “If he thinks Dream can help him decode the thing? Yeah, absolutely. I told you. Guy’s a selfish prick.”

That seemed to be putting it lightly.

Hob isn’t sure he’ll be content with being the distraction if he finds out Roderick actually has Dream captive. But he calms himself for the time being.

Hob absolutely hates Roderick Burgess the second he lays eyes on him.

He’s managed to corner Burgess in the sitting room of the old manor house. His book in one hand, drink in the other. The man is fucking seedy. Hob could tell immediately, even if Burgess pretended at gentility.

Hob’s already decided that Roderick does have Dream locked in a room somewhere. Call it instinct.

Roderick gives Magicks of the World a look of cool disinterest as Hob hands it to him, but it shifts to grudging surprise. “This is actually old,” he says. “Unlike the fake crap people keep trying to pawn off on me.”

“I was told you had a discerning eye,” Hob says with false admiration. “1612. Genuine article.”

“Hm. This is of some interest,” says Roderick. “Come to my office.”

Hob follows him, hoping Johanna is having some success finding Dream.

Roderick’s office is much neater than Dream’s study. it feels like the affected study of someone trying to come acrossas a studious gentleman. Hob hates it.

And there on the desk is a thick, leather-bound volume that Hob knows instantly is the book Dream and Johanna have been looking for. He isn’t sure exactly how he knows. He isn’t at all magical. But he just knows. He can feel the eerie energy of the thing.

“I’ll give you six hundred pounds for it,” Roderick says, laying Magicks on the desk.

Hob startles. That’s actually a lot of money for a single book. Sorry, Dream, he thinks.

“Where did you get it?” Roderick asks.

“Old bookshop,” Hob says. “Don’t think they knew what they had.”

“They never do,” Roderick muses.

He hands Hob six hundred pounds, cash. Hob takes it, dumbfounded.

“Tell me,” he says, pretending hesitance. “I only know how to tell the age. How to know if it’s genuine. The magic stuff—that’s beyond me. How do you make sense of it?”

“I have my sources,” says Roderick. He seems to delight in being enigmatic. “There are… certain experts. If one knows where to look.”

Certain experts. Hob grits his teeth. “You willing to share a name? I have a few books myself I’d love to get better appraised.”

“I’m keeping that to myself for now. Trade secrets, you know.” He smiles to himself, meanly. “Valuable sources, those, in this business.”

Hob decides two things. One: he can definitely take down an old man. Two: he doesn’t care if he goes to prison.

He picks up a heavy statue from the desk and, before Roderick can react, cracks him across the head with it.

Roderick drops like a stone, and Hob snatches up both Magicks and the Grimoire, and flees.

Shit. That might have been ill-advised. What if Dream isn’t in the house, and Hob just caused permanent brain damage to the one person who might know where he is? Shit.

Nothing for it now. He hurries through the halls, books under his arm. He turns a corner, then another, and where the bloody hell is he? Then—

He nearly runs directly into Johanna and Dream.

Hob thrusts the books at Johanna, and takes Dream in his arms instead, pulling him into a tight hug. Dream hugs him back, pressing his face into Hob’s neck with a soft little sound.

He looks rough. His hair is a disaster—more than usual—and he’s wearing the same clothes Hob vaguely remembers him putting on that morning several days ago, before he disappeared.

“Hey,” Hob whispers, “I was really worried about you.”

“‘m sorry,” Dream murmurs, clutching at him.

“This was extremely fucking stupid, Dream,” Johanna says, in a tone that suggests she’s said so already. There’s worry there too, though.

“Yes, point taken,” Dream says.

“I love you,” Hob murmurs against his cheek, before pulling away to look at him properly.

There’s a bruise on Dream’s cheek that makes Hob very glad he smacked Roderick upside the head with a statue. More than that, he looks a bit… haunted. Hob will have to get more details later. Right now, they need to get out of here.

“Where the fuck is Roderick?” Johanna demands.

“I might have killed him,” Hob says, not feeling very bad about it. “Not totally sure.”

“No loss,” says Johanna, holding the books tightly.

Hob keeps Dream close. Dream is looking at him in wonder. Like Hob is the last possible thing he had expected to see. Freedom itself.

Hob kisses his forehead. And then they get the fuck out of there.

“You should really rest, Dream,” Hob says.

Dream is currently doing something to the Grimoire. Binding the pages. He doesn’t seem willing to let it go until he’s made the thing safe.

He sighs. “In a moment.”

“Dream…”

Dream finally puts the book away in a drawer in his desk, kneels before the desk, and draws some complicated symbol on the wood. Perhaps he had done the same with the poetry book, Hob thinks.

Though Hob suspects that the Grimoire is significantly more dangerous.

Finally Dream stands. He seems… a bit listless, now, having finished with the book. Even in the soft lighting of the Library study, the awful bruise on his face is stark, a deep plum mark. He looks at Hob, hands twisting together, expression vulnerable.

Hob’s heart hurts. He hopes he did kill Roderick. But now, he holds out his hands to Dream.

Dream steps over to him, and Hob brings him into an embrace. Holds him tight. Whatever determination had kept Dream going thus far seems to evaporate, then, and he sags against Hob, trembling slightly.

“Let’s go home, yeah?” Hob murmurs against his hair.

“Yes,” Dream sighs.

He locks up the study, which Hob has never seen him do before, and then, once they’re downstairs, locks The Library’s front door as well. He leaves a sign that says, “Closed for the time being.”

Hob leads him across the street, back upstairs to his flat above the cafe, and steers him to the bathroom. He perches him on the edge of the tub as he turns on the tap and lets the hot water fill up.

Dream is still shivering a little. The poor thing is probably desperate for a bath, not to mention food, Christ.

“What did he want with you?” Hob asks, helping Dream out of his jumper. Dream winces as he pulls it off over his head, and Hob grits his teeth. “Did he hurt you?”

“He had been trying to use the Grimoire,” Dream says, as Hob kneels to help him with his slacks. “But there was a symbol he could not decode. My… approach… to try to take the book back was… not as clever as I had hoped, and I was intercepted. He demanded I translate it. When I refused…” he trails off. He’s naked now, and Hob can see a dark bruise stretching up his thigh, another working its way up his back and over his shoulder. “Well, he did not take well to being told ‘no.’”

“Bastard,” Hob swears, and Dream’s lips quirk up.

“Quite.”

Hob kisses the bruise on Dream’s thigh—if only that would do more to actually heal it—and Dream smiles faintly.

“What’s that book do anyway?” Hob asks.

“It’s meant to summon Death,” says Dream, and Hob feels a chill, like the universe itself is protesting that possibility. “I do not think it has ever been successfully used. But the magic is certainly potent enough.”

“Good thing you got it back, then,” says Hob. He helps Dream up, then supports him as he steps into the tub, sinking down into the warm water with a sigh.

Hob strips off his own clothes and follows him, slipping behind Dream and pulling him back to his chest. Dream leans his head against Hob’s shoulder.

“That was all very silly, you know,” Hob says against his cheek, arms wrapped around Dream’s middle. “I was very worried about you.”

“I am sorry,” murmurs Dream. “It was… poorly thought out.”

“Just a bit.”

“But,” says Dream, a hint of wonder in his voice, “you came to rescue me.”

Hob kisses his cheek. “Of course.”

“Hob…” starts Dream. “How may I say this… you are not exactly a rough type I would expect to be performing heists.”

“Hey, you don’t know everything about me,” Hob says indignantly. “Second, you’re a librarian, and you tried to break into the man’s damn house first. Thirdly—”

“And yet,” Dream interrupts, “you still came to help me. Roderick Burgess is a dangerous man. That was ill-advised.”

“Didn’t seem very dangerous when I smacked him in the head.”

“I am saying I appreciate it,” says Dream, with a little chuckle. “All the more so for the danger you put yourself in.”

“You’re my boyfriend,” Hob says. “I love you. Of course I came after you. Don’t be silly.”

He wishes he had gotten there sooner. He chokes up, thinking of Dream stuck in some room, uncertain of any rescue. He tucks his face into Dream’s shoulder, tears beading along his lashes. “Poor darling.”

Dream reaches up and strokes his hair. “I’d be curious to hear about your criminal past sometime,” he murmurs, which has Hob chuckling. “Did you really kill Roderick Burgess?”

“Dunno,” says Hob. “Hope so.”

“My boyfriend is more dangerous than I thought,” Dream observes, lips tugging up. He sounds quite satisfied about it, and Hob kisses the corner of his lips.

“If he comes back I’ll kill him again,” he says.

Dream shivers, leaning more heavily against him. “You’ve unlocked the two keys to my heart,” he whispers, and it’s only partly joking.

“Oh yeah?” Hob says, lips still brushing his cheek. “Violence committed on your behalf is one?”

Dream nods.

“What’s the other, then?”

Dream’s lips twitch. “Scones.”

“I’ll have to fulfill that one in a few minutes then, too,” Hob says, grinning.

“So you shall.”

“Would it make you doubly horny if I killed somebody with a scone?” Hob asks. “Or—?”

Dream turns around in his lap to kiss him, wrapping his hands around the back of Hob’s neck. Hob rocks back with the force of the kiss, leaning back against the tub. “Yes,” Dream declares, and gives Hob another peck on the lips.

“I’ll find someone to kill,” Hob promises. “You have anyone in mind?”

Dream giggles. Joy looks good on him, after everything. He tucks his nose in against Hob’s shoulder again, and Hob holds him close, runs a hand up and down over his back, careful of the bruises.

“I will think of something,” Dream promises.

Hob kisses his temple, and resolves to keep a closer eye on his boyfriend’s supernatural activities in the future.

And to buy Johanna Constantine a drink some time, too.

#dreamling #bookstore cryptid dream #even dream the cryptid librarian isn't immune to getting put in the bowl. so to speak #dream of the endless #hob gadling #the sandman #my writing #i've read through this many times hopefully there are no more typos XD

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zepskies · 11 months

Text

Break Me Down - Part 9

Pairing: Soldier Boy/Ben x Female Reader

Summary: You’re a private investigator by trade, but now you happily sit at a desk — leading a surveillance team at Supe Affairs. After managing to end Homelander in New York, Soldier Boy escapes custody. You are recruited for the manhunt, joining Butcher’s team.

Truly, you joined the S.A. for the right reasons. But after you become his accidental hostage, Soldier Boy will break down every single one of them…

💚 Break Me Down Masterlist

Word Count: 6,800 Tags/Warnings: 18+ only! Smut, peril, blood, and angst.

Part 9: Breach

Loco’s eyes widened as he watched the surveillance feed.

“Coño carajo,” he cursed in Spanish. “Hey, boss.”

Frank was just about to step out of their “office” (a dusty back room behind the library). He stopped at his subordinate’s voice and turned back, frowning when he caught sight of the large triple screens.

A helicopter had just landed on the roof of the mansion. It had a red banner painted with “Fiesta Tours” on the side. The door slid open, and out tumbled a skinny kid who fell onto his knees and threw up on the ground.

His blonde girlfriend came out and patiently rubbed his back. Though she rolled her eyes at something the pilot said.

It was Billy Butcher, which meant the other three assholes jumping out of the helicopter were the rest of his team that had eluded Antonio’s men in Medellin.

“Damn it,” Frank muttered. “How’d they get through our airspace without tripping any alarms?”

“They stole a fucking tourist trap, bro,” said Loco.

By the time he glanced up, Frank had already moved back to his desk to unlock a large safe with both a code and a fingerprint. Out of the safe came a briefcase. Loco stood from his chair and grabbed his gun.

Frank popped open the case and grabbed one of several vials. He gave one to Loco and pocketed two more before he locked the briefcase again.

“Keep them busy,” Frank said. He pressed a finger to the communicator in his ear. “Saul, we have company. Meet me upstairs, then prepare the getaway as a contingency.”

“Got it,” Saul responded. He was currently on patrol on the east side. Frank knew it would take him roughly two and a half minutes to get back.

“Y el Capitán?” Loco asked. And the Captain?

Meaning Soldier Boy. Instead of answering him, Frank pulled out his cell on his way out of the room. Loco was on his heels.

“What?” said Ben. As usual, he sounded annoyed at being bothered.

“Sir, we have a breach,” Frank said. “It’s Butcher.”

Fuck. Ben grimaced, though he didn’t voice his displeasure. His hand tightened on the cell phone at his ear.

“Where is she?” he asked. He heard Frank give a command to check the feed. It was Loco’s voice that gave the reply.

“In the garden,” Frank answered.

Typical, Ben thought. The garden was your favorite place. You hadn’t told him that, but he’d caught you there often enough.

“All right, get her to the helicopter,” Ben said. “Take her to the next house. I’ll deal with Butcher and his cocksucking crew.”

Frank resisted the urge to raise a brow, even if his boss couldn’t see it. Extracting you from the house was not the original plan. But he agreed and parted ways from Loco with a nod.

When Saul caught up with Frank in the hall on the top of the stairs, second floor, Frank handed him a vial of V24. Both men shot up together, each taking sharp breaths at the intensity of unnatural green-hued chemicals running through their veins.

Frank recovered first, rolling his shoulders as new awareness made his senses sharp, his blood already pounding with adrenaline.

“The most expensive damn high I’ve ever had,” Saul remarked, smirking.

Frank didn’t take the same pleasure in it, but he conceded that with a nod. Being able to see through walls was an advantage, at least. It just took a moment for his vision to even out and normalize.

“Get it done,” was all he said.

While Saul continued on to the roof with super speed, Frank made his way down the stairs, and through the French doors to the backyard. He found you there, sitting on the grass with a book in the garden.

Good, he thought in approval of your jeans and V-neck top. You would be easier to transport this way.

He called your name, and you greeted him with a smile, until you noticed his sternness.

“What’s wrong?” you asked.

Frank pulled you up by your arm, firm but not painful.

“We have to go,” he said. Despite your protests, he led you back inside, then up the narrow staircase that you realized would have to lead to the roof. There was nowhere else to go on the roof but up, and away. Frank was taking you away from the house. Why?

“It’s my team, isn’t it,” you said.

You stared up at Frank’s profile. His mustache often obscured his expression, but you caught the way his brows tightened, as did his hold on your arm. It felt tighter, stronger than usual, and not just because he hadn’t manhandled you in a long time.

It raised your suspicions, but your heart was also thumping faster as you realized that your friends were here somewhere.

“Where’s Ben,” you demanded to know. A tendril of worry laced up your spine. “Where the hell are we going?”

“To a secure location,” Frank replied. But he didn’t give you more than that. You dug your heels in on the stairs and tried to work your arm out of his grip, but he was unrelenting.

“Let me go!” you snapped. “I have to talk to them.”

“Boss’s orders,” Frank said, his jaw tightening. You could tell he didn’t want to hurt you, but he would drag your ass up the rest of these steps.

You were reduced to pleading. “Frank, please! He’s in danger.”

His eyes sharpened at that.

“You may not believe it, but they can take him down,” you said. Desperation shone in your eyes, and you fought the conflicted nature of your emotions in what you were about to say.

“If I’m there, maybe I can talk down both sides,” you argued. “I know you’re just following orders, but if you care about your next paycheck, you’ll fucking listen to me.”

Frank seemed to consider your words for all of three seconds.

Then he continued to haul you up all the way to the roof. You were struggling and shouting, but you were made to go all the same.

When the door opened to the roof, however, Frank caught a slender fist in his face, knocking him right out. You gasped as the man careened back and nearly bowled you over, but that same hand caught him by the collar and kept him from crushing you.

You looked up and brightened with an incredulous smile.

“Kimiko!”

The smaller woman gave you a smile and a small wave with her free hand. But before she could finish Frank off, you raised your hands against her raised fist.

“Wait! Don’t kill him,” you asked. “Just leave him here.”

Kimiko looked confused for a second, but she did as you asked and helped you let him down gently to the ground. You noticed the blood hastily wiped from her hand and face—onto her black leather jacket.

“Where is everyone?” you asked.

Kimiko signaled ahead, but you opened the door to the roof real quick, just to see the littered bodies of dead men on the ground. You blanched at the sight.

You turned away from the scene and followed Kimiko, who lowered her head as she continued down the stairs.

Despite yourself, you hoped Loco and Saul had gotten away, at least. They were your captors, but they’d never treated you badly. You’d even cooked for them, hung out with them, listened to them bicker and bitch, and watched them cheat one another at cards. They were criminals, but they weren’t monsters.

And not wanting to see them die only scratched the surface of your conflict when you thought about Ben.

As you and Kimiko jogged through the mansion, heading toward the sounds of fighting and yelling and destruction downstairs, your guilt began to grow.

You knew very well what Ben had done. But the truth was, you no longer had the heart to condemn him.

To play jury and judge and executioner—interning him into an ice box until he could be neutralized, or until the end of his unnaturally long life.

To continue making him pay beyond his forty years of imprisonment.

You’d seen the worst of him: his salaciousness, his temper, his trauma, his destructive coping mechanisms, and painfully outdated ideals.

Yet, Ben was more than all of that. He’d allowed you to see more.

But the moment you said any of that, you knew how he would react. Just as you knew how M.M. would look at you. And it made your chest ache and your mind spin faster than it already was.

What the fuck am I going to do?

You got your opportunity to answer that question when a star bolt shot right in front of you and Kimiko—through the open door of a large room.

It was big enough to be a ballroom for parties, but right now it was a battlefield between your friends, a support team of CIA officers, Loco and his team of men, and of course, Ben at the center. He was in his full Soldier Boy gear, complete with the stupid-ass helmet.

While Hughie had clearly been made to hang out at the fringe of it all. He stood there, looking worried with a gun in his hand that he didn’t look all that comfortable with.

He noticed you and Kimiko first and called your name. You smiled and accepted the joyful hug he gave you (after he carefully tucked his gun in his pants).

“You’re actually okay! I can’t fucking believe it,” he said. But then he quickly amended, “I mean, we all hoped you were still alive, I just mean—”

You just laughed and teasingly slapped his cheeks between your hands to stop his fumbling. “Thanks for coming to find me.”

Ben ears must’ve been perked up, because he sharply glanced over. You getting free wasn’t part of his plan, you knew, and he did not look pleased. Your amusement fading, you let go of Hughie and met Ben’s gaze across the room.

You were worried. About him. About everyone.

“We don’t have to do this,” you told Hughie. Kimiko had already joined the fray to stop a gunman from clipping Frenchie from behind.

Your earnest gaze met Hughie’s confused one. “He’s not what you think he is…well, not exactly, anyway.”

“What do you mean?” he asked. “He fucking kidnapped you!”

“Technically, he didn’t. It was one of his overzealous groupies,” you replied, your expression firming at the thought of Antonio. “That guy’s dead. But there are more reasons. I’ve gotta stop this somehow—”

“That’s…not a good idea,” Hughie was saying, and even tried to stop you when you took the gun from his pants. But you ignored his protests and headed right into the jungle of bullets and star bolts, and the crunch of bone and blood.

You didn’t shoot to kill, evading and defending yourself more than fighting back. Annie noticed you with a happy smile, as did Frenchie and M.M. Butcher was busy shooting at Ben with a fucking launcher.

But Ben avoided the massive projectile with a simple knock of his shield. It sailed through the back windows, eventually exploding into the sky.

For a moment, there was enough of a lull in the room that you took the opportunity to open your mouth, prepared to call out to both men.

However, something else broke through the windows—from the opposite side.

It was a dart that landed between Ben’s feet, black and flashing a small red light. He rose a brow. But before he could just kick the thing away, it detonated.

The explosion was bigger than even Ben anticipated. It blew up a huge crater in the ground, knocking him and everyone else surrounding several feet away.

Even you were tossed back. Your gun clattered away from you as you landed painfully on the ground, most likely onto a dead body. You blinked the haziness out of your vision as you struggled to recover, to pull yourself up.

“What the fuck?” you heard Ben utter.

When you turned your head, you couldn’t help echoing his statement.

Black Noir was standing just before the large crater, the one he’d apparently created.

He’s dead, you thought dizzily. Or at least, he was supposed to be. Homelander killed him six months ago.

Seriously, what the fuck. Ben was bewildered, to say the least. He’d been told that his unfortunate spawn had offed Noir, but yet here he was, the little shit.

“Fucking Noir,” Ben said with a laugh, after he’d stood and made a show of rolling his neck. “What frosted hole did you crawl out of?”

The supe didn’t respond. Didn’t even move a muscle from where he stood in the center of the room. And the rest had gone quiet by now, waiting and watching as two predators approached one another.

“I heard you became a fucking mute,” said Ben. He smirked at the crater in his floor. “You’ve figured out how to make an entrance, I’ll give you that. But we both know you’re not up to this. You could never even shine my fucking shoes.”

Ben tossed the first punch. He expected the way Noir deflected, but not the force behind his blow, which pounded below Ben’s ribs and forced a grunt out of him. He actually felt it.

Along with subsequent punches Noir got in before Ben finally remembered to raise his shield and get back on the offensive. But now he was annoyed. Noir was never this strong, not even on his best day. What kind of bullshit does Vought got him hopped up on? More V?

And then, a solid punch to his face had Ben stumbling back. He caught his smarting jaw with no small amount of irritation, and he wiped at his nose.

It came away bloody. Ben stared at it in disbelief, and then, in anger. Back from the dead or not, he was going to put Noir back in the fucking ground today.

His blood burned hot. So much that he realized, belatedly, that his chest was starting to get that nuclear glow.

Good, he thought. He’d blow a third hole through this cocksucker, and whoever else got in his way.

“Ben!”

Your voice cut through the whirring in his ears as he grappled with Black Noir, just loud enough for Ben to notice you. You weren’t far from your friends, but he realized then how close to danger you were.

He was impossibly hot now, and still fighting hand-to-hand with Noir. His jaw locked as he tried to focus on the fight and figure out what to do. It was getting harder and harder to focus—on Noir, on the power growing inside him, on your worried face.

Shit, wait—

And he lost control.

It was all of seconds.

Annie was just ahead of you, closer to the blast zone. So in those last precious moments, you made a decision: you pushed Annie out of the way.

Then your feet were once again swept from under you, and you flew back even harder than the first time. You blacked out before you had the chance to feel any pain.

That came later, the next time you opened your eyes.

When your vision was able to clear of the mess of colors and shapes, sharpening into focus, you saw Frank as he pulled you out of the rubble. But it was at your expense, as a sharp flare of pain erupted in your side.

You didn’t recognize the sound of your own voice, a strangled groan. In the distance, maybe you heard Annie’s voice. Or even M.M.’s, you couldn’t be sure. You flashed in and out of consciousness after that.

The next scene you truly remembered was being laid down on the floor of a helicopter. A backpack was tucked under your head. The engine was loud, rearing to go. Frank was shouting to someone, whoever the pilot was (you hoped it wasn’t Loco).

“She needs more than a medic,” you heard Frank say. For a man who was usually so stoic, you thought you heard grave worry in his voice.

You managed to look down, and you frowned at the long piece of wood protruding from your side. It wept blood beneath your ribs.

Your light green shirt was slowly getting stained, but your mind was so fuzzy, it was hard for you to understand what was happening.

“Let’s go!” Loco shouted.

Oh, no, you thought. He was going to fly this thing.

“We can’t take off yet,” said Saul. “Where’s—”

A soot-stained hand grabbed onto the frame of the helicopter’s open door. You recognized that hand, followed shortly by the rest of Ben. His helmet was off, shield tucked onto his back. He looked pissed.

“Let’s get the fuck out of here,” he snapped. His frown deepened the moment he saw you, which you didn’t quite understand.

“Ben,” you said, even though it was an effort to do so.

Every breath was like a hot knife cutting deeper into your side. Your eyes closed at the pain, and at tears that burned down your cheeks. It also cut through the brain fog enough for you to realize this was bad.

It was very bad.

A splintered chair leg had impaled your body.

“Get a vial,” you heard him say.

What? You struggled to open your eyes again. Ben was there, looking down on you with a different kind of frown, and something deeper in his green eyes. His sweaty hair fell over his brows, and you had a sudden itch to brush the strands aside.

You were pacified a little when his half-gloved hand came to rest on your head, over your hair. His thumb traced over your brow.

“Hurry the fuck up, Frank,” he said, briefly glaring over your head. Frank soon appeared at your side. He held a green vial in his hands, tinged with blue. Your eyes widened.

“What…”

“That needs to come out first.” Frank nodded at something you couldn’t see. You didn’t have the strength to look down anymore. You knew this was it, though.

You were going to die.

Ben’s hand braced your shoulder. His eyes met yours.

You didn’t understand the thoughts crossing through them, or his hesitation. But you did feel it when he grabbed the large wood splinter and slowly pulled it from your body. Your scream sounded almost inhuman to your own ears.

At least the pain was enough to knock you out once again.

Ben had no such reprieve as he looked down at the gaping hole in your side. Scarlet blood ran and pooled by his knees, even slipped through his fingers and around his hand when he tried to clamp down on the wound.

“Fucking do it already,” he said through gritted teeth.

With a short nod, Frank injected V24 into your arm.

You healed in minutes.

Breath drew into your lungs—a reflex as chemicals flooded through your blood and knit your organs, muscle, and skin tissue closed, even regenerating the blood you had lost. And it felt like a switch had turned on in your brain, set to “high voltage.”

You sat up as a ragged sound erupted from your throat. A hand closed on your shoulder, and you instinctively fought it off.

“Hey. Easy,” said Ben.

Your breathing was shallow as you met his eyes, focused on his face. You noticed Frank on your other side, poised to support you if you needed it. You looked down and noticed your blood-soaked shirt, the blood on the floor of the aircraft, and the empty syringe in Frank’s hand.

“You shot me up,” you realized. Your voice shook, but anger drew your brows together before you whipped your head back to Ben. “You shot me up with V24!”

He stared back at you, his expression tightening. “I saved you.”

“And you kidnapped me. Again!” you shouted.

“You were hurt, and I saved your fucking life! Again,” Ben countered, gesturing at you with his blood-stained hand. But you glared at him.

“You are the reason I needed saving,” you snapped.

At that, Ben glared right back at you…but he stayed quiet.

Good. You huffed and turned away from him. You folded your knees up to your chest and rested your forehead against your knees.

You had nothing else to say to him.

You ignored Frank’s helping hand when the helicopter finally landed at the next house—this time on the gravel driveway.

This place was at the top of a hill on the outskirts of a thick jungle. Once you were led inside, you could tell this house was smaller, though just as lavish as the last one.

Ben seemed too exasperated with you to follow you, instead going his own way to find his room upstairs. Frank led you to a guest room downstairs, where he informed you that he’d find you some new clothes. You were dismissive with him, and he left you alone soon after.

Part of you felt bad for giving him a hard time. You knew he had saved you after the explosion. He’d likely gone out of his way to find you and pull you out of the rubble, but you couldn’t help it.

You were still salty about his part in your re-capture. Not to mention the fact that he’d given you temporary Compound V against your will.

And speaking of which…

You sat on your new bed and looked down at your arms and hands, clenching and unclenching your fists. What mystery power had V24 given you?

As basic as it was, you felt…strong. Like you could run a marathon without stopping. Like you could punch straight through that wall, and not even feel it. You felt more than just confidence coursing through your veins, like no one and nothing could stand in your way.

Was this how Ben felt all the time? If so, you could almost understand why he could be such an asshole.

But you also thought of how he’d been with you for the past couple of weeks; how much he’d shared with you about his parents, about his life before becoming Soldier Boy. And yes, how he’d saved you more than once.

It just didn’t change the fact that he took you—away from your friends, and your chance at freedom.

True to his word, Frank delivered a bag of clothes to your door about two hours after he’d left you in your new room.

You opened the door just enough to snatch the bag out of his hand, before closing the door in his face. You heard his tired huff on the other side, but soon enough, he walked away from your door.

So you took your time in the shower, scrubbing grime and blood out of your hair, off your skin and from under your nails. Then you dressed in a shirt and some yoga pants from the bag Frank gave you.

And you tried not to miss the house in the mountains while you wandered this one. You opened every door you came across, finding more guest rooms, a laundry room, the kitchen.

But you stopped once you reached the gym, complete with an elliptical, a couple of treadmills, hand weights, a sparring mat, and a large punching bag.

Venturing inside, you found some sports tape to wrap up your hands. Then you wandered over to the punching bag. With a resigned sigh, you aligned your hips correctly, bending your knees with your fists raised up to your chest. And then, steeling yourself, you tested out your strength with a single punch.

It sent the punching bag flying on its chain and hitting the wall. A loud thump echoed through the room, even making you flinch.

Yep. Definitely got super strength, you thought with a frown. Basic, but useful, you supposed.

“Whoa,” Ben said with a chuckle. You turned your head and found the man leaning casually in the doorway. He was out of his uniform, freshly washed, and wearing a plain black shirt and dark wash jeans. It was a more modern look for him. You couldn’t help eyeing him from head to toe.

His sharpening grin told you that he noticed.

“At least you got something good,” he remarked.

“Leave me alone,” you groused. You threw another punch. This one tossed the bag hard and created a massive indent and several hairline cracks in the wall.

Feeling a suspect prickle across the back of your neck, you twisted and aimed your next punch behind you. Ben caught your fist with an amused grin. You found it damn infuriating.

So you tossed out a left hook. He evaded it with a tilt of his head, but when he pushed you back, you actually felt his strength behind it. It only forced you a couple of steps back though.

Ben baited you with a beckoning hand and a cocky smirk. “Take your best shot, sweetheart.”

You narrowed your eyes. If nothing else, you were going to wipe that smirk off his bearded face.

He let you come at him first, blocking your first and second blow before throwing a punch of his own. You grabbed his wrist and put all your strength in cracking your elbow into his face, making his head snap back with a grunt.

Ben’s hand went to his nose, and actually came away bloody. He hummed, and his gaze flicked up at you. It was your turn to smirk. You got back into your ready stance and tilted your head at him in challenge.

Ben chuckled and rolled his neck. “All right, baby doll. I’ll give you that one.”

“You don’t have to give me anything,” you retorted.

You ducked his attempt to grab you and drove a knee into his gut. Then you stepped between his feet, breaking his stance and his balance by flipping him over your shoulder. You just didn’t expect him to drag you down with him.

The two of you tussled across the ground, rolling off the sparring mat and onto the hard wood floor. Ben managed to pin you down for a moment, but apparently, you’d been endowed with superior flexibility as well. You grabbed his neck and kneed him in the ribs with all the force you could muster.

Ben uttered an annoyed grunt. He flinched and unwittingly allowed you the opening you needed to wrap your thighs around his hips and flip you both over—until you were the one pinning him down.

You knew he wasn’t trying his hardest, however. He was trying to subdue you, not fight you for real, or he would’ve thrown you off by now. He was going easy on you, and it made you irrationally angry.

So you slapped him. Ben blinked and looked up at you, incredulous.

“Oh, you better be fucking careful—”

You cut him off with another slap. “Fight me!”

Ben grabbed your wrist before you could slap him again. His green eyes glittered dangerously, but you stared down at him, unafraid.

Both of you were breathing hard. You were straddling his waist, your free hand braced on the floor by his head. A line of sweat rolled down from your cheek to your neck. His eyes followed the path of it down your shirt.

By the time his hot gaze snapped up to yours, you knew you were in trouble. And there would be no escape.

Ben hooked a hand on the back of your neck and crashed your lips against his. You slapped a hand against the floor, but you didn’t pull away. You did demand from him in turn, forcing your tongue into his mouth and grabbing at his hair.

Ben wrenched up your shirt, and you helped him raise it over your head, followed by his shirt and belt. He sat up enough to drag your yoga pants down your thighs, while you broke open the button and zipper of his jeans.

His lips attached themselves to your neck, sucking and biting until you cried out in his ear. You gripped his hair tight when his thick fingers found their way between your folds and slipped inside you.

Your sighs turned into moans of pleasure as his fingers worked you over, gathering your wetness and rolling over your clit roughly.

“Ah, shit,” you uttered. All you heard from him were his sharp breaths as he concentrated.

You instinctively squeezed his hips tight between your thighs. You knew he could get you off just like this, but you were too impatient. You stopped his hand and pushed him down, and with your newfound superhuman strength, you were actually able to do it.

His back hit the ground with a thud, and he smirked up at you, letting you tug his jeans and boxer briefs down.

You didn’t stop until his cock was freed, and once you positioned yourself, you sunk down, burying him into your wet heat. Both of you groaned in relief, and your inner walls tightened around him on reflex.

Ben’s grip on your hips became crushing. Had you been normal, it would’ve broken your bones. “Fuck. Gonna take me for a ride, baby girl?”

“Hell, yeah,” you said, panting for breath. “Buckle the fuck up.”

You were surprised that he was letting you stay on top, but his eyes were alight with desire. You braced your hands on his shoulders and began, rolling your hips at a slow, deep, almost torturous pace. Ben’s head snapped against the floor in frustration, his eyes closing.

“Christ. If you don’t fucking move, I’m gonna do it for you—”

You snapped your hips hard, cutting him off from his words with a guttural sound. Your own release was building. You could taste it, but you could also admit, while pleasant, this pace wasn’t going to cut it. Bracing a hand on his chest, you increased the tempo of your rolling hips.

Ben’s hands reached up to palm your breasts over your bra, then forcibly freed them without taking it off. You gave a pleased sound when he roughly squeezed and rolled his thumbs over pert nipples. Your hands wandered down his chest, over his arms, whatever you could reach.

Then Ben’s jaw clenched, and he sat up with you in his lap. You felt his body tensing beneath you. With little warning, he spilled hot inside you. You gasped at the feeling of him, then at his insistent fingers above your entrance, roughly rubbing at your clit. Soon enough, you came along with him.

Gasping for breath, you clung to his shoulders. Both of you were dewy with sweat. Your bra was tucked up all the way into your shoulders, and neither of you had been able to completely slip out of your pants. His hair was wild, as was yours, you were sure.

Ben’s hands pressed against your lower back, and his cock was still bottomed out inside you. But all you could do was hold onto him.

“See?” Ben said. His voice was deep and full of grit in your ear. “Isn’t it better this way?”

Your brows furrowed, and you pulled away enough to see his face.

“You…you prefer me as a supe, don’t you?” you said. Ben’s mouth closed, but he rose a brow as if to say, why not?

You finally noticed the deep cracks in the wall, the small craters in the floor under your knees, and by Ben’s head. There was still a bit of blood congealed around his nose from when you’d hit him.

“This isn’t me,” you said, though you hated how your voice shook. Emotion burned in your eyes, threatening to create tears.

You let go of his shoulders and slid off of him, pulling on your yoga pants and tugging down your bra. Ben watched you from his seat on the floor, with a tensing of his jaw and knitted brows.

“I don’t know if you just like playing with me, or if you actually care about me,” you said, scooping up your shirt. Your eyes met his with an angry glare.

“But if you ever give me Compound V against my will again, I’ll never forgive you.”

Butcher stared into his fifth of whiskey, already anticipating his second. If nothing else, Soldier Boy kept a well-stocked liquor cabinet.

While the CIA combed through the half-ruined mansion, Butcher sat in the kitchen while Hughie and Annie’s arguing grated on his ears.

“She fucking took my gun, had this crazy look in her eye, like she was gonna talk Soldier Boy down. By herself,” said Hughie. “But her exact words were, he’s not what you think he is.”

“She saved me,” Annie said. “She wouldn’t just go with him.”

“She went willingly,” said Butcher. “Ain’t no other reason why she’s alive.”

“Nah, man,” M.M. said. He shook his head, then rested it on a thoughtful fist. “I saw it. One of his guys pulled her out after the blast. He took her.”

“But for what? Why would they want to keep her?” Annie said incredulously.

“You think, maybe…Soldier Boy likes her?” Hughie asked.

Butcher considered that with a dark chuckle, then a long sip of his whiskey.

“We can work with that,” he said. “O’ course, now we got Black-fucking-Noir to deal with as well. Question is: was he after us, or Soldier Boy?”

Trust M.M. to address the elephant in the room.

“And how the hell is that motherfucker alive?” he added.

Ben was contemplating that very same question. He sat at an old mahogany table in a stuffy old room, while his men argued in front of him.

“He had regenerative abilities,” Saul reasoned. “Vought probably got him to a hospital after Homelander left him for dead.”

“No way, man. I heard his fucking intestines were hanging out of his stomach like a goddamn fish,” said Loco.

“Maybe it wasn’t him,” Frank suggested.

“No,” Ben said. He had his chin propped on his fist. “It wasn’t him. Not the real Noir.”

He didn’t know how he knew, but it was a gut feeling. Whoever that had been behind that black mask, he was strong. As strong as Homelander had been, which made Ben’s gears turn on the possibilities…

“Saul.” Ben looked up at his subordinate. “Assemble a team. You’re going back to the States for some reconnaissance. I want to know exactly what the fuck Vought did, and what else they’ve got in their fucking arsenal. If Stan Edgar’s after me, then he’s gonna get it up the ass.”

He should’ve never let that little weasel get even an inch of a hold back into him. Now Stan thought he was going to double cross him? Again?

Yeah, fucking right. The thought stirred the rage in Ben’s blood…but he forced it down to a low simmer. This time, he would be smarter about this.

Stan had a bad habit of playing God. Ben wanted to know how he did it this time…though that same gut was telling him that he already knew.

No matter how you tossed and turned, the chemicals of V24 still coursing through your blood wouldn’t allow you to sleep.

After another fruitless hour, you turned onto your side. This time, you had a room with an old-fashioned alarm clock on the nightstand. It read close to two in the morning.

You huffed and dragged yourself out of bed, but you didn’t bother changing out of your pajamas before you slipped on your sneakers and left the confines of your room.

You still weren’t being watched, but you knew better than to try and escape either. You noted the newly installed surveillance cameras in every hallway and every room.

You wandered a bit aimlessly, but somehow, your feet took you down to the kitchen. There you found Ben, sitting at the kitchen table with his third beer. To be fair, you were sure it was like water to him.

He looked up at you when you came in, making you stop short. You weren’t sure where you stood with him after today. You weren’t even sure if you wanted to be in his presence.

But when he gestured to the empty seat in front of him, you found yourself grabbing a beer from the fridge and joining him at the table.

“Can’t sleep?” you asked. It wasn’t the first time, and Ben was just as evasive. His eyes roamed your face before they returned to his beer.

Regardless, you suspected what his answer might’ve been if he were honest. Because that moment—calling his name, seeing that nuclear light, pushing Annie out of the way, being pulled back into the world by searing pain in your side—it was keeping you up too.

“What do you feel when your chest lights up?” you asked. Maybe it was too bold of you, but right now, you felt confident enough in your super strength to test him.

Ben’s gaze found yours dryly.

“Hot,” he replied.

“Well, yeah. You’re pretty much radioactive,” you quipped. “I’ll be surprised if I don’t have fucking cancer yet.”

He frowned at you in annoyance while you sipped at your beer.

You hummed, tapping your nails on the glass in contemplation. “Maybe Vought could help you neutralize it. Even I can admit, they have some of the best scientists in the world on their payroll.”

“I wouldn’t let Vought handle a cup of my fucking piss, let alone poking and prodding and studying my fucking blood,” Ben snapped. He wouldn’t be anyone’s fucking lab rat. Not again.

“Like an experimental drug, for example. Given to you against your will,” you wryly supplied. But your voice was edged with agitation.

Ben’s face tightened into a glare. “If you wanna say something, fucking say it.”

You could later admit, you lost your temper then. You shoved away from the table, too angry to even take your beer with you.

“You know, you still haven’t even apologized!” you said. But before you could leave, Ben’s chair scraped across the ground as he stood and grabbed your wrist. He tugged you back to face him, and he stood looming over you with a steely frown.

“You want a fucking apology for saving your miserable life?” he asked.

“If I’m miserable, it’s only because of you,” you spat.

Ben scoffed, though his grip on your wrist tightened. “We both know that’s a lie.”

You just stared up at his face and spewed words you knew you didn’t mean.

“You don’t know anything about me, Ben.”

His body was wound tight, his frown tight and almost sneering. You were furious—at his smugness, at your inability to completely hate him. But you both faltered once your eyes met his.

When his lips once again crashed against yours, you opened your mouth to him, pulling him down to you by his shirt.

Ben dragged you flush against him, first by your hips, then by your hair. He forced your head back so he could deepen the kiss, tangling his tongue with yours.

His fingers then pressed their claiming marks into your side, in the same spot where you were stabbed this morning. Where you had only been healed with the chemicals still coursing through your veins.

That thought alone cut through the intoxication of his kiss, and made you remember yourself.

You pushed hard against his chest. You were still strong enough to force him back a step or two. Ben stared back at you in irritation.

“What’s your fucking problem?” he shouted. “Would you rather I’d let you bleed out on the fucking floor?”

“I know! I know I would be dead,” you said, matching his volume.

No matter how you felt about Compound V, there was no doubt, he’d saved your life.

But what you’d said to him then still stood.

“If you hadn’t tried to waste Black Noir with a power you can’t control, then I wouldn’t have been hurt in the first place. That’s the definition of collateral damage,” you said.

Ben crossed his arms defensively.

“You’re the one who jumped in front of the bullet like a goddamn moron,” he said. “Ain’t my fucking fault if you get yourself killed.”

And just like that, your anger faded…into dismay.

He might very well care about you, but in many ways, he was still an asshole. And you were exhausted.

“Fine, Ben.” You blinked past the well of tears burning in your eyes, but your refused to let them fall.

After you turned away from him, you didn’t see how his face fell, with both disappointment and guilt breaking through his anger. Your next words would sear into his mind for days to come.

“Just leave me the hell alone.”

AN: 🤭 Please don't hate me! loll They'll get back on track soon enough...

Next Time:

“Why are you trusting me with this?” you asked.

Ben’s lips quirked wryly, but there was little humor in it. His hand, half-covered by his glove, reached up to brush your chin.

“I’m not,” he replied. “I expect you’ll jump at the chance to get back with Butcher and your asshole friends. But either way, I’m gonna find out if you were worth it.”

Keep Reading: PART 10

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#Breach #soldier boy #the boys #soldier boy/ben #soldier boy x female reader #soldier boy x reader #soldier boy x you #the boys season 3 #soldier boy/ben x reader #the boys au #enemies to lovers #frenemies to lovers #private investigator!reader #the boys amazon #soldier boy fic #soldier boy smut #break me down #Part 9 #zepskies writes

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1nthedarknessofthenight · 1 month

Text

i drink your blood and i eat your skin | part seven.

pairing: vampire! hwang hyunjin x f!reader

warnings: angst

masterlist

playlist

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It was another day and as more time passed by, spending it only in your room, the more the boredom creeped up on you. Even the books you took with you from the library started to get boring, words on pages blending together and creating just a bunch of nonsense. The delicious food turned as bland as your world. The known unpleasant feelings started to show and not even the beautiful house could not keep you away from embracing them. You haven’t seen Hyunjin after the dinner and in some way it bothered you. Loneliness, feeling you knew all too well, quickly joined the party and now it felt way stronger, even deeper. You didn’t even realized that his presence was effecting you in some way…

More like his absence. You however knew better than let your intrusive thoughts win. It is so wrong to want his attention, him. It was so wrong that it felt good…right. You don’t know if he truly was a bad person, maybe it’s just your own head playing tricks on you. Or maybe it was just instinct, maybe it was keeping you safe from him. He is a predator and you were his chosen type of prey after all. He told you that he wouldn’t hurt you but you both know that in some way or another he already did. You weren’t in the wrong to think like this.

You are just careful around him, because you still fear him in some way. Even if you get to know him, will you ever not be afraid? You knew what power he holds and that scares you. He could snap your neck by a blink of an eye.

But…wasn’t that also so exciting?

Hyunjin is so strong, a creature created from the darkness. A vampire that walks with an aura so menacing but also so alluring. It makes you want to have just a little taste of it and before you would know it, you would be already drowning in it. And it would taste even better because his deepest desire.

You really should sort out your feelings. You wished for Mia right now. You missed her, even if it were just days but being ripped away from her like that — you didn’t like it. You choose to stay, you have to remember that.

As you were gazing through the closed windows, you wondered if you could go there. You needed some fresh air and the slightly open window in the bathroom wasn’t enough anymore. After you went to the library the door to your bedroom was mysteriously left unlocked, maybe he knows that you won’t try to run away again. For one you are sure that you wouldn’t be able to, even if you tried your hardest and second of all you don’t really want to….but maybe a walk outside wouldn’t hurt anyone.

To your surprise you found a long, warm coat for you in the closet and also some boots. Every time you had opened it, you always found new things for you. It was endless and you couldn’t help yourself from going over the multiple boxes of shoes. He really does have a taste but being alive for God knows how long, it should come naturally.

It felt wrong going out of your room like this or was it just in your head? You weren’t really a prisoner but still everyone was so careful around — with you. You weren’t that sure which way lead to the back of this place but you were definitely familiar with which way was the main entrance. You calmly made your way to the big staircase and you momentarily stopped, gripping the railing with your hand. You glance into the dark hallway just few steps away from you, you haven’t been there before. There is still so much for you to explore but your lungs really call for the fresh air you promised yourself.

As you made your way down, you noticed that you weren’t alone at all to your surprise. The house looked like it was finally waking up. Two guards were standing at each side of the main door, dressed neatly, bodies pin straight and eyes hard, it made a lump form in your throat. Maybe it’s not going to be so easy.

They didn’t spare you a glance first, even if you now stood right in front of them and you were a little thankful for that. You clear your throat, clasping your hands before you. “Ehm — hello, may I go outside?” Even by clearing your throat, you still sounded like a hurt kitten. ‘Even my voice is not on your side.’

Finally they take a glance at you briefly, before giving each other looks that you couldn’t quite place. You stood there for a while, swinging on your feet slightly. The one on your right with fair hair and looking a little older than you sighed. You weren’t so sure about his age, after all you feel like this house only reeks of the undead but this man didn’t look like it. He doesn’t have the aura around him, the different eyes or anything. He looked like you, human. His company however didn’t. He was more like your age, tall and skinny with dark curly hair and light eyes which for a second reminded you of him. This was interesting. Were there many like you here?

The older man step out, unblocking the view of the door. “I will accompany you, miss.” He said. At that excitement pumped through your veins, finally feeling some kind of relievement in these past days.

You shake your hand, waving him of, making your way to the door. “You don’t have to.”

Before you could wrap your hand around the handle, he put his hand on it, again blocking the entry with his body. You look up at him at that. “I will accompany you, miss.” He said slowly, not that sternly but letting you know that you didn’t have a choice.

“Okay.” You replied. The prices you have to pay to just get a whiff of fresh air…

The other man step aside as well, probably to not get hit with a stream of light that might shine through the now open door. You are curious about what is and what is not true about these creatures but you can tell for sure that they did not like the sun. It wasn’t that sunny outside however but you could smell the warm spring peaking around the color. The sky was still grey, maybe it was because of where you are, middle of the woods and cut from any other people that weren’t residents of this house. But is it really a house? It looked like a mansion, mixed with cathedral, you couldn’t quite place it. At least you now had time to fully analyze it.

The man walked few feet behind you and you find yourself not minding it that much, maybe because he was like you. Did he knew about who — what he was working for or was he compelled? That question ran through your head while you walk around the building, however you didn’t ask. It was none of your business but you hope that they did not keep him, like a alive blood bag…

Tracing your fingers over one of the statues, you wondered again where this marvelous place was located or more like where you were right now. You remind yourself that they had the power to do everything and more, you almost scoffed how easy it must be for them to live. The nicer weather even made the bushes bloom, you remembered that they were empty just days ago but now red roses peaked out from them.

You touched one of the roses softly, it wouldn’t propably hurt anyone to pick one up but you still glance back at your company that watched you silently the whole time. “Can I have one?” He raised his eyebrow, looking confused to why you would ask permission for that but still nodded nevertheless.

You snap the stem then, careful not to cut your finger because that definitely wouldn’t end well if you did. Twirling it between your fingers, you decided to go around, to the direction where you would look out of your window. Just as you wanted to cut the corner you suddenly appeared somewhere else.

The smell hit your nose, just as well the noises of the animals in the stables. Your mouth opened slightly. The stables were right at the edge of the mansion, so there was no way for you to ever guess to be meet with horses. You thought that vampires enjoyed more of dead company than anything. Glancing back momentarily at the guard, seeing that he doesn’t have anything against you to you going there, you pick the end of your long coat and step inside.

The heads of the horses peak out at you and you immediately went to pet each and every one of them, still careful because there wasn’t certitude that they would like you but to your surprise they did. The second your hand touch the soft skin of their neck, it seemed that almost a heavy weight has been lifted from your shoulders. Petting an animal really does help with nerves. As you passed through them, giving them each enough pets for them and for you to be satisfied, you came across a one horse that had its back to you. It probably could sense your presence, turning to finally walk up to you and have a look and you gasp softly at the beautiful white color and the black spot at it’s back.

Your lips after so long lift softly at the corners as it leaned into your open hand. You really don’t want to pick and choose favorites but this one surely speak out to you and it definitely liked you the most so far out of everyone. The stables were big, bigger than you expected, this place sure has it’s secrets and surprises.

A loud noise startled you, hand jumping away from the neighing horse to whip your head to the direction. There at one of the stalls stood a man, leaning on the wood, looking you over and you wondered if he’s been there the whole time. Your body stiffened at his dark eyes and matching black hair.

“H-Hello.” You greeted, unsure, looking back your company that to your surprise kept his distance, standing at the entrance to the stables. Looking back to meet the eyes of the lean, tall man, you don’t receive any answer. He looked like one of those statues in the gardens, the aura and his unraising chest giving you the answer about who — what this man truly is.

The horse you were just petting nudge the back of your head, making you jump before your focus was back on the still silent vampire who was still sizing you up. You cleared your throat, straightening your back, suddenly feeling insecure under his gaze. “I am–“ Before you could finish introducing yourself he beat you to it.

“I know who you are.” He said.

“Oh…”

A small smirk appears on his face at your response. “My brother can’t shut his mouth about you.”

‘Really’ You thought. You weren’t so sure what to say to that so you kept quiet. The silence however made you feel uncomfortable, turning around to continue at your petting of the horse. As you do that you could feel him getting closer, you couldn’t hear his footsteps but the burning stare at the back of your head gave him away. You turned back to him, his gaze hard but not looking so unwelcoming, maybe it was just his natural expression and also he was much closer to you that you thought. Basically right next to you

“I’m sorry for asking this but…” You begin. “–are you all…following me?” The question was answered by silence, his face unmoving. “I feel like you are…”

He hummed almost like in thought, his own attention falling to the animal before you two. “Just keeping an eye on you, like everyone.” The vampire answered. ‘What does he mean by everyone?’ Your eyes briefly flicker to the guard.

“Hyunjin likes his sleep…” He continued, making you snap out of your thoughts to look at him as he nodded his head to the direction of the horse. “You ride?”

You shook your head widely, still slightly stuck at his statement. “Oh n-no, but I for sure always wanted to try.” You careased the soft skin of the horse, smiling at it’s noises of contentment.

The vampire watch you in silence, petting the happy animal. The news of your existence shocked everyone, it was such a crazy theory that even he didn’t know what to think. He, like everyone else didn’t want to give Hyunjin the satisfaction that maybe he was right about you. The fact that this animal, your so called soulmate’s untenable horse let you pet him so freely was for sure a little significant. All eight of them had their own look at you at some point, peaking from behind corners in curiosity. Their brother was so mesmerized by you that they just had to have a look themselves. They however didn’t expect you to be like this — look like this. Such a beautiful soul but also so sad, wide eyed like you finally opened your eyes after years of living. Walking amongst the living but so close to the dead. Still you looked and smelled so sweet, like a flower, maybe you were just tormented, lost soul like them. Maybe you are more enchanting than you think…

The black haired man startles you as he suddenly opened the gate to let the horse out. “What are doing?” You asked in wonder. The question only made him roll his eyes in annoyance. He was only doing this for him. Maybe if you saw kindest in others, you could finally start seeing it in him.

You watched the vampire as he put the saddle on the horse. “We are going for a ride.” He stated casually, making you choke on your spit. Because of the gate now being open you could fully see how magnificent this animal is and it made you nervous to even approach it now.

“I don’t know if that’s a good idea.”

He again rolls his eyes. If this bordered him so much, why was he even doing it then? Your body froze slightly as he suddenly made his way up to you, so quickly that you didn’t even have time to react. One second you were on the ground and now you were being picked up by your waist like you weighed nothing. A small gasp leaves you. “Wait! Wait, I don’t even know your name…”

“Seungmin.” He answered simply, while helping you up on the horse’s back and if you weren’t so focused on balancing yourself you would’ve seen the small amused smile.

The vampire walked with you in his arms, before helping you to get fully seated. “Wait! Aren’t you not supposed to be able to go outside.” You stated, clutching the leather of the saddle tightly as the animal moves under your weight.

A sigh, almost like a laugh comes through his nose at your words. “I appreciate your concern but however the sun can’t harm me from here.” You opened your mouth in realization.

You were know seated on the horse, body so rigid that now you were the one looking like a statue. The vampire still had his arms stretched out, like you were going to fall at any second into them but you were basically frozen at your spot. The animal moved a little, making you grip the saddle even tighter.

“Do you want to go down?” Your company asked softly. You didn’t say anything because you simply didn’t know the answer but as seconds passed by you started to not mind your position. Maybe the whiplash from how quickly you were put so high up was wearing out. “Or do you fancy a walk around the castle?”

Your head snapped to his direction. “Can I?” You asked softly.

“What do you think.”

You sighed through your nose, body not so tense anymore. “I would love to.” You really would.

His lips formed into a small smirk and not because of your words but from the annoyed sigh coming from inside the house that only he was able to hear. His hand then wrapped around the reins, making the horse move from it’s spot, you immediately tensing up again. But after some few steps as you walked your way to the direction of the guard who you almost forgot about, you found the hang of it.

“Accompany her, make sure she doesn’t get hurt on my brother’s behalf and sanity.” Said Seungmin and you couldn’t miss the difference of the tone of his voice nor the way he looked into the man’s eyes.

The guard nodded, blinking away rapidly and grabbing the reins to the horse. “Yes, sir.”

Seungmin turned to you, even if you had the higher ground, you couldn’t possible share the same authority as him. “For my well being I won’t be the one to give you the tour.” ‘Oh? So direct sunlight was the enemy.’ Your eyes then fell on the two man again.

“Just around the forest.”

“Yes, sir.”

You felt a little bad for this unknown man but there was nothing to do. You simply don’t have the power to even have a say about who or who not should be compelled. The way Seungmin now was looking at you, made you think that he could read your thoughts. This intense glare probably came with every vampire though.

You smiled briefly at him. “Thank you, Seungmin.”

He waved you off, looking into the distance. “I did this for myself because I can’t tolerate my brother’s whining any longer.”

“Huh…” You frowned because you couldn’t imagine him doing that, eyes traveling back again at the vampire who stood under you.

“You made a choice to stay.” He stated. “So at least try to enjoy it and stop your own whining.”

“Excuse me?” Flies out your mouth because had nothing other than that to say at the moment but he just ignored your question, turning around to make his way back inside, exactly as the sun appear on the exact spot he stood second ago.

“Goodbye miss Y/N.”

‘Vampires are going to be the death of you.’

────

It was a cold night, so cold that even Hyunjin shivered. Though was it really the breeze, coming from behind the closed door that made goosebumps appear on his skin, perhaps it was the unsettling feeling bubbling inside his chest, ready to burst at any moment. He stood behind the closed door to your bedroom, silently getting over the words inside his head. His thoughts were so loud that he didn’t even have time to listen. Hyunjin listened to the sound of your beating heart every second, since you’ve been here, even the many walls separating you apart couldn’t safe you from his ears. The thumbing soothes his soul, like a lullaby but now the sound makes his ears ring. The sound…so close yet so far.

He wanted you to know that yours made his own beat again. There’s no way for him to express his emotions throughout words. He tried plenty of different ways to show his devotion to you but you dodged every one like a bullet. Did you even know that every second without you made him mad? It made his skin crawl, itching, burning and fangs hurting and wanting nothing more than to pierce the soft skin of your neck and make you his. Hyunjin wanted to mark you so bad that he had to bite his own lips to ease the temptation, while imagining they were yours instead.

The vampire didn’t want to say this but your rejections were so confusing to him. He knew how and what he could evoke in humans, he was the creature that trilled on the seduction and the pleasure after all. You however didn’t return it. Or did you? He would like to say that he could see in the depths of the soul that people try so desperately to keep hidden and you weren’t really good at hiding your it. Your eyes gave you away every time he would look into them. The desire, the desperation they held, the wanting and longing to be finally seen. ‘Why won’t you let me in, Y/N?’ Let him in and he promises to ravish every corner of your heart, every piece of your untouched skin and lips…

Hyunjin has to contain himself a little but how when you were the reason and also the answer to his suffering and redemption?

He finally found the courage to knock on the door. The sound echoed through the old mansion, like the creaking wood under his feet and yet he didn’t hear anything from the other side. He waited a little bit for an answer but every moment made suffering even worse. Hyunjin knew you were in there…so he let himself in. He hopes you won’t be angry with him.

His eyes traveled over the room. From the unmade bed, to the multiple books on one of the nightstands. They stopped at the open window to the balcony, the very reason of the cold seeping inside the room. The strong wind made the heavy curtains float but the smell of your sweet scent didn’t immediately hit his nose, like he expected. Sense of panic washed over him, making him take quick steps to the balcony. ‘Have you ran away, jumping from the balcony and running for freedom through the forest? What if you were injured?’

Just as quickly as the panic had reached him, it flew away through the wind as a gasp ringed in the air. He turned around, coming face to face with your shocked expression and he had to slightly sigh in relief, taking in the smell of your skin.

One moment you were enjoying your bath in silence, washing away the smell of the animal you spent your whole day with and then there was a vampire standing inside your bedroom. You didn’t expect him to visit you at all and definitely not so soon after the horrible dinner and also not so late but what seemed like late to you was the beginning of the day for him. Your white nightgown gave you little to no coverage, wrapping your arm around your chest, the man following your action before quickly everting them. “May I ask what are you doing here unannounced?” You spoke up, eyes glancing at how the moonlight casted shadows on his face.

Hyunjin look up at your words, glancing over your figure so quickly that you didn’t even catch it. He had to licked his lips to ease the thirst. ‘God what she’s doing to me?’

“I did.” He said. “I knocked but you didn’t answer.”

“Alright.” You said, nodding not really sure what to say to that. You again watched each other in silence for a while. These moments were making you unsure if they made you uncomfortable or…comfortable. His presence doesn’t brother you that much anymore but you still haven’t got used to it.

Pressing your lips together, you walked to your bed, passing by him shifty. He had to take a deep breath as the wind blew your hair away from your neck. You knew exactly what he was doing as there was no need for him to breathe at all, however you tried to ignore it. You climbed into the bed, taking the duvet closer to your chest. It created a small imaginary distance from him, shielding you from his glaring eyes but you knew that if he wanted to he would tear it apart together with you.

You gave him a look of wonder because for what was he exactly here for? The expression made the vampire snapped out of whatever trance he was in. “I came here to talk to you.” Hyunjin answered simply.

You frown. “To talk to me?” You quoted. “About what?”

He gave a weird look, almost like in thought, before he sighed. “Anything…” He walked up at you, stopping just at the end of the bed. “I just want your company.” Hyunjin almost sounded desperate and how he towered over you, it reminded you of something.

How he looked at you that night and how he made you feel. You knew that it was just your imagination, a dream and it didn’t particularly ended well for you but the way he made almost everything look so appealing…His sultry voice and his eyes, lips, hands — your eyes flicker to his rings, wrapped around his long fingers.

Looking up from the dark color of the duvet, you could see that he had moved a little closer to you with just a moment of your inattention. He leaned his weight on the column of the bed’s canopy, just where your legs were. “Minho said you enjoy reading.”

“Yes.” You said carefully. How can you be surprised?

He hummed at your answer, warmness spreading inside his chest because you shared something in common — and of course he couldn’t forget about love for animals…

Glancing momentarily at the one book on the nightstand, he could see bookmark peaking out from it. “What book did you picked?”

Biting your lip, you also look at the book before placing your hands in your lap, playing with your fingers. “Would it be bad if I said Dracula?”

Hyunjin laughs, genuine smile on his lips and you couldn’t help yourself but marveling over it. “Interesting, I wonder why the sudden interest in vampires.” There was still the same smile on his face, though now teasing you.

You were so taken back by his reaction that your own lips started to tug at the corners. “Hey, don’t laugh.” You tsked, eyebrows furrowed. “It’s more interesting to why you even have this book in your library.”

“Certainly.” He nodded, still amused.

A sudden big gush of cold air flew from the still open balcony inside the room. It made goosebumps appear on your skin and just as quickly as your reaction to the sudden cold appeared on your body, the man before you took action upon seeing it. “Are you cold? I will close it.” Hyunjin didn’t even give you time to answer, walking to the windows to close it.

Your hungry eyes stared at his back and even from here you could see the muscles underneath the tight shirt. If only he knew that the shiver weren’t only from the cold. The vampire turn around slowly after closing the balcony, looking right at your laying figure. There was so much to say but nether of you knew where to start.

But you however had enough of this killing silence, feeling the way your heart skipped a beat after glancing at him. “I’m sorry but I was just going to bed and —“

“I understand.” He didn’t even look angry nor sad with your words, not like at the dinner. “I will talk to you some other time…”

You nodded again, still being slightly tongue tied. Again watching him walk away from you made you feel empty. Why were there so many mixed feelings? You really don’t know what you want from him…maybe the truth.

Just as walked pass your bed you stopped him with your hand raised. “Wait!” He immediately turned around, almost like waiting for you to say that. “Can I ask you something?” The man in question kept quiet, giving you room to speak.

You also went quiet, basking in the silence. The only noises being the wind banging on the closed windows and you could even hear the frequent dripping of water coming from the bathroom. To your surprise he still kept quiet and unknowingly to you also enjoying this moment. Maybe it was just because he could look at your figure so freely as you were to occupied with your thoughts. You always have to be the one to destroy every pleasant moments like these…

“That night if those men didn’t appear what would you truly do…I know that you already answered but—“

“I am failing to understand…”

Oh, but he did. He knew exactly what you were talking about.

“You were watching me before, syzing me up…” God, what are you doing, you two were doing so good and now you are messing it all up…

Your mouth was open still, both of you waiting for the million dollar question. But you couldn’t immediately form it, the glare he was giving you made you scared to even think about it. He was giving you a warning look but you still said it anyway.

“Were you going to drink my blood?”

A sneer falls over his features and you wondered how this same face could even form a smile minutes ago. “Why are you asking such question?” He tried to warn you to not go further but the damage was already done. Why can’t you leave things in the past? Was it because you were human that you couldn’t let go so easily?

You watch how his knuckles turned white around the column and you were afraid that he might crush it into pieces. What if that was your throat instead? “I just want to know…did you really have no intention of drinking from me?” You can’t be in the wrong for asking this…

“I can’t answer that.” Whispered Hyunjin, head hanging low and praying that you would just let this go for his and your own sake.

“Yes, you can.” You declared slowly, duvet falling over your body as you sit up to get closer to him. Was he shaking?

“No…”

Your scoff rings inside the room next, head shaking at his stubbornness. You both know the answer already but you needed to hear it to be sure. Maybe it could finally make you hate him…He on the other hand had a really hard time to contain himself. You don’t even know that you were playing with fire right now. Someone so afraid yet blindly teasing the snake with a bare foot at the same time.

“Just tell me damn it! Would you had killed me if they didn’t showed up?”

“No! I was just—“

“Just what?” The question comes out sharper than you intended.

Finally Hyunjin look at you. Long hair covered his eyes, shielding the vibrant color dancing in them. The silence now didn’t sound the same as before. It was exactly the silence before a storm. You suddenly realized what you had done but it was too late now. You completely turned him around. The way he looked right now, perfectly mirrored the way he had looked at you the very first night you met. “You’re—your blood.” He pulled his hand away from the column and even in the darkness you could see the dents in it from his fingers. “I’ve never smelled someone so delicious as you before.” Closing his eyes, a sigh dangerously close to a growl left him. “And you were just in the perfect position — all alone and oh so mesmerized.” Opening his eyes again, he listened to your loudly beating heart. “If they didn’t come…if you wouldn’t scream for help.” He stopped himself from going further, you both know that this confession was all you needed. “I didn’t kill you after that because I have never felt so bad about my victim before…and also seeing you in such pain — I couldn’t possibly continue it.”

Your face crunched up, his raw words bringing out the mentioned pain to the surface but you decided to stay strong for a little longer. “So you would’ve just killed your soulmate or whatever you call this and you wouldn’t even know.”

Next, so quickly that you even had time to blink, he was on you. From the end of the bed, he suddenly appeared before you. His body covered yours and you couldn’t do anything but look into his wild eyes. He was so so close, you could feel his breath fanning over your lips as he spoke up. “Be quiet.” He growled, his red eyes glaring into yours and after a long time you felt like fainting from fear again. Was this how his victims felt? Your chest that raised with your every breath touched briefly his but you were too afraid to move away.

“You’re not listening, I said vampires can sense the bond easily. So I apologize that your fucking warm fresh—“ His tongue trailed over his bottom lip slightly, glancing at the noticeable vein on your neck. “— pulsing blood pumping inside you is in the way, hypnotizing me so much that I wouldn’t even mind sucking every last drop.” He tilts his head at you. “You wouldn’t even mind…would you, Y/N?” His teasing tone was gone just as soon as it appeared and because of his words you didn’t even feel the hand bruising the skin of your leg.

The tears in your eyes couldn’t be contained anymore. “Sorry for not letting go of the past so easily, sorry for not forgetting that I met my so called soulmate the night I was almost raped and then killed by — you…” Spitting out the word, a pathetic whimper comes out next from you and not because of your crying but by the immense pain in your leg. His left hand gripped your right thigh so hard, that you couldn’t even find the will to fix the skirt of your nightgown that was now bunched up at your waist.

Something in him broke at your tears. What do he do? ‘What have I done’, you thought. The irises around his pupils cleared, face falling into shock. You have never seen such a raw emotion from him before. His now blue eyes glance at his hand. He never meant to bring you pain by his touch but the way your skin spilled over his fingers from how much he gripped it, made him sick to his stomach. He withdrew his hand, like you’ve been the one to burn him and when you sob out in relief he thought he will die again just by that godawful noise.

Both of you could see the obvious handprint on your skin, making you grasp the skirt of your nightgown, letting it fall over your exposed legs. “Get out…” You whispered, his eyes as wide as yours. “Get out!” Screaming the words at him, made Hyunjin almost fall to his feet before you and he had no other choice but to follow your orders.

‘What have I done?’, you thought again, swallowing your sobs. Maybe you really don’t deserve to be loved…

──────────────────────

author’s note:

for my lovey right here: @hanonlymeuu

147 notes · View notes

2smolbeans · 7 months

Note

I am OBSESSED with your Obey Me writings. Would it be possible to something where one of the brothers (or others) disguises themselves as someone else in order to sleep with their darling? Imagine if you tried to run away and they're still trying to make you love them so they know they can't just force themself onto you, but at the same time they NEED your body. Maybe it's even a continuous thing, imagine the horror if every new lover you take on turns out to be them. Over and over again you try to run away but end up running right back into their arms. The gaslighting potential is perfect for a yandere who wants the more subtle approach.

ANONN THISSS 💖💖 Also sorry this took so long to finish 😭

A Demon Inside The Church

Yandere Satan x Antro/mythologist reader

Tags: Religious themes, gaslighting, manipulation, minor nsfw depictions, stalking, impersonation, minor character death, deception, body marking, paranoia, attempts at escaping, Mc has a crush on someone, branding pact mark, possessive behavior, isolation.

*This is unedited and long

___________________________

You weren't always a superstitious person. In fact, you were a person of science, an atheist. However, you were always fascinated with what stories life had to offer, its history, and, as of recently, its beliefs. Mythos, urban legends, and religions- it had caught your eye when your philosophy professor had mentioned them in his typical lesson. A one-off mention, but you decided to look more into it. For some reason, it had unlocked a childhood memory of when you used to read Greek mythology back in middle school.

As of late, you started going to the church near your university campus. You weren't Christian, and by no means did you believe in an afterlife. But you were curious about Christianity and its beliefs. In the beginning, you weren't fascinated with the repetitive worship music that sounded the same. If anything, you had a hard time staying awake as the singers kept repeating the same words and phrases over and over.

But it was worth staying as the sermons would begin after. Each sermon teaches a new belief, a new lesson, a new verse. You were in awe with how the pastor would passionately preach his words, the things you'd learn about the people in the church.

It made you curious about what it would be like to study and record the cultures, religions, and traditions of people around the world. After all, if just learning and investigating your typical local church from an academic point of view was enjoyable, imagine the possibilities of branching out! Maybe perhaps becoming an anthropologist wouldn't be so bad.

You balanced it out, your school, and then your church. For once, everything felt like it was in place, you had reconnected with your old passion, recognizing faces, making acquaintances. You were truly happy.

Funny enough, you even met this guy who happened to be around the same age as you.

Brown eyes, brown hair. He was an average looking guy, nothing made him stand out. You didn't know his name, or if he went to the same university. But every Monday at exactly 3am, he'd show up and read at the library. It was interesting- he was interesting.

Like the bored nerd you were, you started speculating in your head. Why did he always appear at 3am? Was he perhaps a ghost that would only appear in the witching hours? A vampire that walked amongst the earth when it was dark? A low ranking angel who liked to relax in the church?

Of course these were all just make believe scenarios. You had a tendency to make up backstories or scenarios about recurring people. You weren't much of a talker or socializer, you didn't have a lot of close friends, but for some reason you had a bit of courage to go up to the man and talk to him. Though funny enough, the moment you approached him, he was already smiling at you, patting a chair next to him.

Awkwardly shifting your way towards the brown haired male, not expecting him to even acknowledge you. You sat down, trying to muster up any words. But soon enough, you calmed down as he spoke, his warm eyes comforting you as he let out a chuckle.

"Hey, no need to be nervous! I'm just chilling here"

He pulled out the chair for you, his chin resting on the palm of his head as he had a small grin on his face.

"Nono- uh, I'm not nervous..Just uhhh- sorry I don't know..”

You trailed off, unsure of what to do in the small talk.

"It's fine, no sweat! Anyways It's kinda nice talking to you for once"

"Sorry? Wait, do I know you?"

You let out a chuckle, feeling your cheeks heat up from the embarrassment that began to creep up.

"Well, I mean I dunno? I mean if you're wondering how I know you, I just see you around class here and there"

You perked up, accidentally raising your voice from your excitement, immediately covering your mouth with your hands as you apologized.

"WAIT SO YOU- Oh shit sorry..Wait so you also go to Morninghaven?!"

"Always have~"

The two of you talked for hours. By the time you both parted ways, it was already six in the morning. Little by little the two of you got closer, eventually getting each other's numbers and sitting together during each lecture. Apparently, he just liked going to the library at 3am because of how empty it was.

It was funny how the both of you had so much in common.

Damien was his name. That brown haired geek, Damien. It had been at least 5 months since you've known him, and you hated to admit it, but he was the first close friend you've ever made in a while. He indulged in your hyperfixations, listening to your rambles while he also returned the favor. He was talkative, always sure to give a long answer to something so small. Even if you were to ask him about his favorite color, he would somehow turn the conversation about the meaning and ‘biology’ about colors.

“Why do you do that?”

You suddenly asked him, sipping at your drink as he sat across from you.

“Do what?”

You swayed your legs back and forth, the height of the bar stool keeping your feet from touching the ground. Listening to the jumbled up conversations that warmed the cafe, you stared at Damien. Smiling while feeling flustered, eyebrows perked up, your voice perked up - you let your mind speak as you put your drink down.

“We always talk about something small, and somehow it devolves into a whole essay of a conversation about big things!”

You exclaimed, gesturing your hands, hoping that it would help aid your poor choice of words that you thought you made.

“Oh sorry..My bad…”

“Nono! It’s not bad! I’m just wondering why? I thought it would just bore you..Or that I was boring to talk to..”

You deflated, sinking down to your seat as you sipped your drink. Damien leaned forward out, ready to retaliate.

“What?! What are you saying?”

“..Do you just ramble because I don’t bring much to the conversation..?”

The both of you stayed in silence. You were trying to hold back a laugh as you purse your lips, while Damien had a deadpan smile.

“....Stay still. I’m gonna slap you”

Immediately, Damien began to reach for you from across the bar table, nearly knowing it down as you slapped away at his hands from touching your face. You were laughing hysterically while Damien muttered to you to “stay still damn it!” and “This is what you get for being such a dumb dumb!” while he continued his efforts.

“What! Gahh! Stop!!”

“Fine, fine! But y’know, have you ever thought that maybe I like rambling to you because I want to talk more with you?”

…Being around him was one of your favorite things throughout the day. He was just so warm..So comfortable to be around. He made you feel wanted, something that you haven't felt until you met him.

"Are you an angel?"

His voice pitched from the other side of the call.

"Pfft what?! That's so random! What is this all about?"

You playfully rolled your stomach onto the bed, your feet up in the air while your legs kicked up and down slowly.

"I'm serious. Are you?"

Rolling his eyes, Damien let out a smug smirk.

"I dunno, depends on you"

You'd be lying if you said that you didn't have some sort of attraction towards Damien. Sure, it was a small crush, but you were happy with the friendship you had with him. You didn’t care if he had gotten another partner or if he didn’t share the same feelings. You were just happy being with Damien who liked talking to you.

Though, you were wrong about that. Ironically, after a week of not seeing Damien. He had actually opened up to you about his feelings towards you. Telling you how he needed a break from spending time together, how he had realized he was slowly falling for you - how he didn't want to ruin the friendship between the two of you. He was scared to see you once he realized how strong his feelings were towards you. After that, the two of you started dating. The relationship felt strange at first, but you weren't complaining. Whatever you needed, Damien was there. When you were sad- Damien was there to comfort you. Whenever you walked to class, he was always right by your side.

It's always been like that, even when the two of you were just friends. But didn’t Damien also have friends to hangout with as well? He'd always go out with them every now and then, and you'd be left on your own whims.

But now?

There wasn't a time where Damien wasn't by your side.

Another thing you've noticed about Damien was that his temper sometimes got the best of him. When it came to the smallest of things- an ant crawling on one of his books, when you would hold your bible close to your chest, how you sometimes looked at other people for ‘too long’. He would either scoff or nearly pop a vein on his head.

How possessive he was towards you, always kissing you and holding you close. Sweetly convincing you to come back to bed, to always look at him, that he adores you too much for you to leave so soon. Bad mouthing the acquaintances that would take up your time from him. Jokingly wishing that they would drop dead or fall ill so that you could focus on him more.

The way he was prideful and rough he was whenever the two of you would be alone and intimate. His hands all over you, his teeth nipping at every inch of your skin. Almost as if he was in a hurry to get those marks all over your body. How he’d mutter those words into your ear, repeating it like a prayer while he shoved your face to whatever surface there was. How beautiful you looked to be ‘finally his’. How sharper his nails would feel whenever he grabbed your hips. The way he would rhythmically pump into you repeatedly, always in a trance with the purpose of cumming inside you. Always lovingly belittling you whenever you cried from the overstimulation, out matching your stamina in an inhuman amount.

It was weird how he never let you look at him whenever the two of you were doing those sorts of things..Was he trying to hide something?

"Why do you do that?"

"Do what?"

"How come you never let me see you whenever we do it?"

"...I don't want you seeing something you might not like.."

"Aww.. You know I love every part of you.. "

He hugged you, resting his head against the crook of your neck.

"If only.."

He was controlive over the little things you did.

“Why don’t you wear this? I don’t want people staring at you..”

“You have some time, right? So why don’t you just come with me instead of them?”

“Are you asking me to lock you up in this room? No? Then why are you making it so hard to just listen to me?”

He was always demanding to know where you were and what your plan for the day was. Making sure he had tabs on your daily activities.

Now that you noticed it, Damien was more..Dry. Sophisticated. Calculative. Sure, he would be somewhat expressive, smiling, and softly speaking. But, back then, he was more loud, more..Different. You felt so alienated from him at times. What happened? You couldn’t put your finger on it.

Was Damien always like this?

Damien even stopped going to the church. You found it weird since Damien loved going to church with you. It was the place you first met each other. He loved how you would study the pastor's words, making serious notes about the lessons. Sitting right next to you as he also made notes regarding the philosophy of Christianity. You were a church duo, even though the both of you weren’t religious.

But now..Damien hated it. Often complaining how annoying the pastor was with his scriptures. The thing he onced loved became the thing he despised the most. He was once friendly with the pastor. Now, you only find him staring eye to eye with the pastor, stoic towards his words.

"Be weary of the sweet temptations of the world. For Satan is cunning, speaking with honeyed words, luring you into damnation."

"But folks, we have to remember this. There is no need to fear him! He is dethroned, casted away by god. We must always declare his defeat. That is how we remove the authority of the enemy.”

You swore from the corner of your eye, and you saw Damien grin from that statement - as if it was personal to him. The next day, the pastor fell severely ill, according to his wife. You were worried, of course. You talked with the pastor here and there, and you wanted to at least send some medicine or soup for the poor man. Damien, however, just laughed at your attempts, hugging you as he pushed his face against your chest. Calling you adorable for ‘wanting to bother the old nut’.

You had a dream a few days later. You were in the church library, alone. Everything was distorted, books meshed together like liquid, people’s faces blurred out. But, Damien was there, waiting for you. The sweet angelic Damien you knew from the past, smiling and patting a chair that was next to him.

“I missed you”

Before you could say anything, you woke up. You couldn’t place on why you were feeling the way you were feeling, but you were incapable of holding back the tears from flowing. It was like you were grieving over a dead person. But, really- you were sad over nothing.

You were slowly getting paranoid over the small things that were starting to recur. Whenever you walked outside, there was always an owl there- it’s neck following your movements. The small whispers that you swore you could’ve heard calling out to you. The hands that would wrap around your waist whenever your back was turned. Your bible and church notes trashed or missing. The bite marks that would appear out of nowhere when you would wake up. Your mind pulled into a trance whenever you would stare too long into Damien’s eyes. The dreams..How your memories were vaugely replaced little by little with someone else you’ve never encountered.

The worst part was, your mind accepted it as normal - your body seemed to relax at the thought of it. But it wasn’t normal, you knew that.

You had a slight theory in your head, a terrifying thought that brought you shaking whenever you questioned its validity. Was this even Damien? He was acting so fucking weird ever since he disappeared for that week. Everything was just so odd. Like you were cursed by an unknown force. What if this wasn’t Damien? What if Damien was missing and you were dating some skin walker? When you knew Damien, he felt so warm and comfortable to be around. Now, if anything- it often felt too possessive, lustful- intense when you were with him.

It didn’t help when you found that mark behind your back.

____________

“Hey..Babe, what is this?”

"Oh that? Yeah, you're weird. I told you going to that party was a bad idea, but you didn't listen. You should've seen my face when you showed me it! Why did you think getting that tattoo was a good idea?"

But it wasn't a tattoo. The more you looked into the strange mark on your back, the more concerned you got. It was green, almost glowing. A demon marking.. A ritualistic mark that bonds you to the demon who claimed you as their own. You've read about this. The mark was equivalent to a proposal, promising an afterlife full of happiness in hell. What party did you even go to?

When did you get this?

"I don't know hun..You just showed up with it"

How the fuck do you get rid of it? Fuck, did you have to get laser surgery?

"Honey, calm down. It's not that bad. It's just a tattoo. Plus, I think it looks wonderful on you"

Nonono, you don't want this. Why was there some fucking satanic pact mark on your body?

"Maybe you should stop reading those books..Or maybe just take a break from the whole demons and angels church thing."

Why was this on your body?

"Honey, you know there’s no harm in it right? I think those books are starting to get into your head.."

Maybe...But still it was fucking creepy! But nonetheless, the constant studying and fixation of demons and hell were starting to tire you out. Maybe, you should focus on your assignments more..

___________

Time passed and it had been at least a year since you and Damien were dating. You were in your final year until graduation, and surprisingly- things were going smoothly. Though your paranoia worsened. You had tried to remove the mark behind your back, even paid for laser surgery to remove it. Explaining to the dermatologist that it was an accident tattoo. Though when the mark was removed, it appeared the next day- as if it completely healed over the treatment.

The relationship hadn’t changed..Damien was still possessive and greedy for your affection. However, Damien was somewhat back to his old self…Somewhat.

Thinking about the past, the stalking, the mark behind your back- it had brought an old familiar feeling back. The church, you wanted to go back and attend it. To at least say hi, for old times sake. To get some answers- some comfort about your fears. You contemplated on bringing Damien, but ultimately heavily decided against it. So you went at night, opening the doors to be greeted with the warmth you were once familiar with.

You smiled as you saw the pastor on the stage, cleaning up and checking up on the instruments for the worship band.

“Sir! How are you? It’s been so long”

The pastor walked towards you, extending his arms out to you as he smiled.

“It’s been so long! What happened? I thought you moved!”

You chuckled, hugging him close as you embraced him, enjoying how cozy he felt.

“Nono! Of course not! Things just got in the way. But I’m glad you’re still here”

The pastor stepped away, eying you up and down, wanting to say something before holding back as he motioned you to follow him. Walking behind him, you both ended up in the office that was located in the basement of the church.

“Sit, I want to talk to you about something”

He sat down behind the table, rummaging through the wooden desk, looking for something as you sat across him.

“I’m a bit worried for you. You disappeared for a while..Something seems off about you..Is anything bothering you?”

You sat quiet for a bit. Should you mention the mark? You wanted to, but you were scared with the answer that would come out. So you didn’t mention it, but you mentioned the other instances you felt when something was wrong.

“Well..I felt paranoid. Whenever I’m not looking it felt like someone was there, touching and whispering in my ear..There’s always there..Like-”

“An unease? That the room feels a lot heavier?”

“Yeah..Exactly like that..But it’s no longer like that! Sure it’s here and there, but it’s really nothing”

The pastor just stared at you. Biting his lip before handing you two things. Anointing oil, and a bottle of holy water..

"I think you should take these. The anointing oil will help protect whatever room, person, or thing of yours"

You took it, examining the items as he continued speaking to you.

"With the oil, you just take a bit of it on your finger and draw a cross on it. It's best that you say a prayer before it"

You nodded your head, smiling as he continued.

“I plead the blood of Jesus Christ over this room. I pray and demand that any spirits in this room be gone in the name of the lord. That this oil that is anointed with the holy spirit will shield and protect me from Satan.”

"Like that?"

Smiling, he gestured his hands, telling you to hold the items close to you.

"Of course! And with the holy water..Well I'm assuming you've watched a bunch of horror movies haha!"

Thanking the pastor, you eventually made your way back home. Promising that you would keep in touch with him as he ushered you outside the doors. When you finally arrived at your dormitory, you let out a scream as Damien stood in front of you.

“Jesus! Damien! Don’t just stand there!”

“Where were you?”

Oh right, you didn’t tell him..

“I was just out running some errands, walking around, sorry I forgot to tell you..”

You felt more worried about him finding out about going back to the church rather than his concern for you.

“Are you lying?”

You exclaimed as you dropped your bag, patting his shoulder as your lips stretched out to a thin line.

“Damien..I would never lie to you..”

You almost felt guilty for deceiving him, but you didn’t want him to know.

“..Well, let’s go back to bed okay? The bed felt cold without you..So please?”

He pleaded with you, turning off the lights, guiding you to the bed short after as his hands grabbed onto yours.

“Haha, of course.”

“I love you so much..”

______________

You’ve been thinking about it, using the oil and holy water. When Damien was gone for an hour to do an exam, he needed to pass. You, who were free from all of your work, decided to open the anointing oil. Putting a few drops of the oil on the tip of your finger, you anointed the room. Drawing a cross, as you said a small prayer.

Maybe one or two more would be best? You thought of nothing of it. It was just a gift, something that you wanted to try. Something that would perhaps ease your fear. Nothing would come out of it.

But something did.

Damien had a severe headache and reaction the moment he stepped in your room. Groaning in pain as he nearly fell to the floor. Clutching his head in pain as the ungodly sounds of wheezing came out of his throat. You were terrified as you saw Damien try to get ahold of himself. Whispering to himself while you stood there, frozen.

Adrenaline rushed through your body as a million thoughts went through your head. He was just stressed, right? He just came back from an exam, maybe he's tired. You tried to rationalize your extreme theories to calm yourself down. But even then, a few words had slipped out of your mouth - unconsciously wanting to test out your theory.

"Get behind me Satan."

He knelt as he stared at you in disbelief.

".......What?"

Your voice shook in fear, your eyes furrowing as you stared at your boyfriend.

“You heard me. Who are you?”

Fixing his composure, Damien looked at you concerned. Cautiously approaching you while also keeping a safe distance.

“Honey, what are you talking about? Calm down okay? Take a deep breath, I was just a bit stressed from staying up all night”

You sneered as you were quick to grab the holy water from your cabinet, loosening the cap as you raised your voice.

“Cut the shit. G-God..What did you do to Damien?!”

Tearing up, you shouted as you splashed the holy water at him. Making sure to throw a large amount towards his face.

“Honey what are you talkin- FUCK!”

He sneered in pain, cowering down as he tried to cover himself. Now you were panicking as your theory was confirmed. You had almost felt bad, stupid, delusional even. But now? Your fight or flight senses were triggered.

“W-Why did that hurt you?! HUH?! T-TELL ME!”

You waved the bottle frantically. Your eyes widening as you saw his skin burning in agitation from the water that hit his skin. He tried to excuse himself, to save whatever grace he had. But you weren’t having it. Screaming out scriptures, dousing him in holy water- you had eventually revealed him for what he truly was.

Blonde hair, curled horns protruding out of his head, the sharp tail that moved side to side swiftly. He wasn't human. This wasn't Damien.

“This hurts you! You’re..A demon..In the name of the holy-"

But before you could finish your sentence, your prayer, your last ditch effort to handle the situation, he interrupted you. Rushing towards you he pinned you against the cabinet that you were standing behind. His hands gripping onto the edges of the wood, your body sandwiched in between the hard surface and his chest. With nowhere to escape, you tried screaming- but he was quick to wrap a hand around your throat, threatening to squeeze deathly tight, warning you to keep quiet.

“Are you finished? I could kill you right now and take you with me for all eternity. But I would rather take my time and not hurt you... So just be good for me, okay?”

You nodded your head frantically, trying to speak as your words were whispered. He eyed you, loosening his grip around your neck.

“Why? Why are you doing this? Who are you?”

In awe, his lips softly kissed your cheek, trying to comfort you as you teared up from fear.

“Aww..Love..Well, it’s obvious isn’t it? Satan, that’s who I am. I know this is a lot for you but, I want you to know that I love you. Okay?”

Satan.

Satan?

The demon that replaced Damien, the one who made you breakfast everyday. The one who was jealous whenever you dared speak to anyone. The one you gave your virginity to..?

Satan himself was in love with you? Satan, the prince of darkness, one of the rulers of hell- was here professing his love to you. How long has he been using Damien’s face for? Where was Damien if he was taking his place?

“Where’s Damien then? What did you do to him?”

You asked, your lips shuddering as you thought about him. If he had disappeared, then..

“Don’t worry about him, he's fine. Better than how he was wasting his life away before”

A surge of panic coursed through your body, your hands instinctively shoved Satan away with all of your strength.

“YOU KILLED HIM?!”

Unfazed, he sighed as if you were overreacting. His palms reached out towards you, telling you to calm down from your outburst.

“Now, he wasn’t in any pain. He didn’t even see it coming, so don’t worry about him. Afterall, he became the sweet angel you always thought of him as. So either way, everyone benefits in this situation”

Your jaw clenched as your eyes wavered at the demon who stood in front of you.

“I’m not going to hurt you...I’m not doing this for the sake of destroying your life. In fact- I’m doing it for the sake of making it better! I love you, you don’t understand - I need you. You fascinate me - you're the only human on this earth I deem tolerable!"

"I had to do it, I know it’s hard for you to understand, but Damien was just a nobody in your life. There are lots of people like him out there in the world. So please, just think for a moment."

You recoiled as you felt his sharp nails softly outline the curves of your face. Cringing as you stood there fear, hearing his insane ramblings.

“You’ve read about me. Studied me. Talked about me. You were just as interested in me as I was for you. Don’t you think that's special?”

Bitterly, you spat at his face.

"I want you gone. Out of my life. I will never love you- you'll never have me. Get out."

He looked at you, almost remorseful as you glared at him- only to then smirk and roll his eyes..And with that, he disappeared in a blink of an eye. For a good year, even until graduation- you never saw him again. It was almost as if he never existed.

All the messages, the call histories, everything- they were gone.

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It had been a few years ever since he stopped approaching you, only deciding to watch you from a distance. Hiding in the shadows, lurking in the small corners of your home, he admired you.

It drove him mad when observed your cute little attempts at avoiding him. Always wearing that small cross around your neck, never interacting with anyone outside of the church. Praying everyday on the edge of your bed before you go to sleep, hoping to ward him off forever.

You were such an adorable little sheep. So desperate to keep him away, not knowing it only made him want you more. Every night he watched you, hungrily devouring your body with his eyes, enjoying how meek you've become. He wanted to take you right then and there, surprising you with his presence when he would emerge from the shadows. How would your face look in fear? Would you scream at him? Attempt to perform an exorcism?

Would it be enjoyable watching you break down from the spot? Hearing you whimper when he would corner you. Watching you plead for him to leave you alone. The slow burn of you fearing him, only to reach out to him out of desperation when he's hovering over you.

You're starved aren't you? Lonely, and starved for an ounce of emotional attention. You haven't been talking to a lot of people lately, even when you're in the illusion of safety when you're in the church. He felt so bad for you, yet so eager for you. All vulnerable and alone..You're still sad about that human boy weren't you?

That's okay.

There was nothing a new face couldn't fix.

Sooner or later, he'll have you forget about him. He'll have you wrapped up around his finger. You'll live your perfect minuscule human life with him until death do you part- temporarily. After all, heaven wouldn't allow an angel with the mark of the beast into their pearly gates, would they?

A new face, a new name. He would meet you again at the church. Charming you with his words, coaxing you with his sweet voice that was hard to resist. Making you smile again, hearing that angelic laugh of yours, feeling your warmth when you cuddled underneath him.

He missed how good it felt to be with you. He loved every bit of it. How it gave him an excuse to act out on his pent up urges towards you. To have your legs so nicely wrapped around his torso, drowning in pure lust from those sweet sounds you'd make. To finally have your body all to himself.

It wouldn't last for long though.. You were smart- too smart. You always somehow found out a way to identify him through the smallest of ways. Through the subtle gestures he'd make, the appearance he decided to appear as, or even from saying an old ancient spell against him just to see his reaction. You even went as far as spraying him with holy water like some sort of cat at one point.

How intentive!

That's why he loved you. You were so intelligent, brighter than most. That's why he didn't mind doing it over and over again. Like a game of cat and mouse. You'd gain a sense of security, feeling confident that the man right next to you wasn't him- only for it to break again when you came to terms with the truth.

He didn't mind. It was exciting watching you ponder about him. It was special what the both of you had together. Seeing your face contort in pure anguish and rage when you realized that the person you had slept with, the one you had trusted your whole heart with, was only him the entire time. How you would beg, even try to bribe him with intimacy and sex- just for him to leave you alone. Pleading him to stop impersonating people and potential partners.

"But this is fun darling. Watching you break down every time~"

"I can't just give it all up for something I can do whenever we're together"

"There's really no issue here, you're the only one who's making it a problem"

"Running away, panicking for no reason…You already know I won't hurt you. I just want to love you."

"So really, when will you stop?"

No matter how much you run, he'll always have you in his arms. Even in death, you won't ever be able to escape him.

How long will it take for you to crumble and accept him? When will you stop running away from him? Time and time again, you would run away- only to come crawling back to him.

So why don't you just accept the inevitable?

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