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witchygagirlwrites · 13 days ago

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That Damn Chain

Jay Halstead x Reader

In which you blurt out things in the heat of the moment and reveal some things about yourself and feelings you'd buried for one of your partners

NSFW happenings

How was it that you and Jay had yet again drawn the short straw to go undercover? You loved your partner but you were so damn tired of playing arm candy. The last three undercover ops you'd been dolled out and while normally you would've loved the occasion pampering the fact remained you hated not being able to have a weapon of any sorts on you. That left not only yourself unguarded but Jay's back as well should something go south.

You knew without a shadow of a doubt he’d protect you with his life, same as you him but if something happened where you walked away and he didn’t because he was protecting you? You weren’t sure of a scenario that would end well. No matter how hard you tried to deny it to yourself your partner had won your heart quite a while ago. You’d never admit it under threat of torture. Too much bad waters for him when it came to partners and too much to lose for you when he undoubtedly didn’t feel the same.

“Kim!” you flinched when she poked your eye with the eyeliner and she grimaced “I’m sorry honey!” Voight had lent you his office to get ready considering it had an actual locking door but it also didn’t have a mirror so you had to rely on her help with makeup and hair. You let a small smile slip onto your face “Didn’t hurt as bad as Adam getting the wire tangled in my hair the last time” she cracked a grin at the memory of you chasing him through the tech room and threatening to wax his beard off.

You and Jay were due at the club around ten to meet with Alex Henderson. A tycoon's son with too much money and not enough morals. He’d gotten bored partying it up with small-time drugs and hookers and moved onto trafficking heroin, fentanyl and as of late people. You just needed to get him on tape making a sale and you’d have him for it all. Jay was set up through a C.I, to meet with Alex. Poe was a former friend of Alex’s and when he’d gotten rolled up for suspicion in his girlfriend’s death when she overdosed he’d cut a deal to avoid the death sentence.

“There, you’re ready” she replied after a moment and you smiled. Your breasts felt like they were directly under your chin with how high the combination of a push up bra and corseted top accented them. The skirt you wore barely skimmed your thighs and as for the boots, you’d arrested actual hookers wearing more. “Do I at least get a jacket?” you groaned and she held up the long coat. At least it looked warm “It’s lined” she added as if she was reading your face so you smiled “You’re an angel Kim”

About that time there was a knock on the door followed by Voight asking if you were ready. You cut your eyes at Kim and took a deep breath before walking out. Hailey let out a low whistle “Damn Y/N” you winked at her “From you? I’ll take the catcall”

Adam looked at Kim with wide eyes “Those are a bit…much” Kevin and Jay walked around the corner and both stopped dead in their tracks. “Jesus” Jay muttered under his breath and Kevin grinned before slapping his shoulder “C’mon Jay. That’s your partner man. Am I the only professional around here?”

You were too busy practically drooling over what Jay was wearing. He was wearing a suit, tailored to hug his shoulders and the gold chain Will had given him for his last birthday peeking out the collar. After the last time he got shot he swore it was a good luck charm and wore it however often he could. That damn chain was a hazard to your health. The thoughts it caused to pop into your head were never rated to be having about a coworker.

You plastered a smile on “Kim wired me up. If everyone is through admiring my cleavage can we please get this show on the road?” Voight chuckled “You heard the woman, lets get it done”

You walked into the club next to Jay. He had one arm tucked around your waist, fingers rubbing small circles onto your hip. You noticed he did that anytime you were supposed to be his girl undercover and it made you wonder if that was something he actually did or if it was just a thing to keep him in the mindset of the moment.

You covered his hand with yours and squeezed gently. “You ok Johnny?" you cut your eyes up at him and he smiled “Yeah baby, I’m good” your heart flipped anytime he had to call you baby or sweetheart or darling on these things. You knew they didn’t mean anything more than your false name at the moment.

—---------

Alex stood outside the V.I.P. section with two thick necked guards “Mr Reynolds!” Jay laughed “Man, call me Johnny. Only my old man goes by Mr Reynolds” the two shook then Alex looked at you “And the lovely Gwen is with you I see” Jay pulled you into his side “Always”

Alex motioned behind him “Let’s grab a drink and talk”. You felt Jay’s hand slip into yours as the two of you followed him and the guards.

When you got to a booth Alex purposely sat where you’d have no choice but to sit next to him. Jay met your eyes before reaching a hand out, you took it and he pulled you down into his lap “Always been your favorite seat, right baby?” you smiled “Always Johnny" he looked over at Alex “Now, lets talk”

The teams’ voices through the com in your ear was your only grounding factor against the fire raging in your core every time Jay slightly shifted his leg. Did he fucking realize what he was doing? His hand slipped down to gently squeeze your ass all the while never missing a beat at backing Alex into the corner all of you needed him in. You bit down hard enough on your bottom lip that you tasted blood to be able to focus.

You knew the moment the sale was made the unit would come in along with the uniforms waiting around the block to not only clear the club of civilians but to make sure none of Alex’s business partners showed up. “So what are we thinking here? Six kilos and five girls?” Alex said and you heard Voight give the order to surround the club.

—------------

Jay cut his eyes at you as he pulled you down next to him, effectively shielding your body with his. “Yeah” “That's a hefty price you sure you got it?” Alex pushed and Jay stood up, pulling you with him “Look man if you don’t want the money just say so” “I didn’t say that. I’m just asking if you’ve got that funds for that much heroin and that many girls. It ain't cheap to bring either product in and I don’t want to lose my invested time and money and from the looks of it you put enough money into Gwen here, I mean if you wanna offer a trade”

Alex took a step towards you and Jay stepped squarely in front of you “If you want to draw another breath you wont even finish that thought” “Point taken” Alex chuckled then looked at his guards “I gotta make some calls. Treat them well”

—-----------

When Alex left Jay eyed the guards then whispered “Go with it” he grabbed your hand and winked at the guard “We’ll be back fellas” the guards eyed the two of you so he slipped his hand down to grab your ass again and you gasped lightly then giggled to cover it up. The guards chuckled “Bathroom is down the hall”

“What was that?” you asked and he whispered “I think we’re made. He may not be thinking cops but he knows something is up” “Do we need to come in?” Voight asked over the coms about the time the two of you made it to the bathroom. You’d just closed the door when the first bullets hit just above your head before Jay tackled you to the ground, covering your body with his.

“CHICAGO POLICE DEPARTMENT” you heard ringing out from around the club. Jay pulled his gun from his lower back and slowly crouched over you, his chain slipping free of his shirt to dangle in front of your face as he asked “Are you ok?” you weren’t sure what the hell came over you but when you looked up into those blue eyes after such a burst of adrenaline with that damn chain dangling you blurted out “I’ve had a few dreams in this position but they never started with us getting shot at”

His eyes widened before a grin slipped onto his face “Either you’re fine or delirious. We’ll figure that out later” he pulled your backup from where he’d carried it in on his left ankle and pressed it into your hand. At your questioning look he shrugged “You hate not having a weapon nearby” then pulled you to your feet so you could both go out and meet your unit.

For the next few days you barely looked Jay in the eye, hoping like hell he had forgotten the dream comment. Maybe he’d chalk it up to weird shit people said when adrenaline hit?

You should’ve known better when Friday night found you at Mollys. You were talking to Ethan and April at the bar while Stella made your drink. The week had been a little crazy so you were happy to relax.

You knew the presence anywhere the moment a hand slipped around your waist “Hey partner” you cut your eyes up “Hey Halstead” he nodded to April and Ethan before passing a twenty over your head to Stella to pay for your drink and his own beer. He leaned down close enough, his breath caused a shiver to run through you when he whispered “Can we talk?”

You nodded, thanking Stella for your drink and telling April you’d see her later. Jay kept his hand at your lower back as the two of you walked over to a booth in the far corner. You slid in and cut your eyes up at him “Is this you making fun of me? Because if so I swear..” he grinned “No, this is me asking about those dreams”

You raised an eyebrow and he shrugged “What was I doing?” you leaned across the table to flick that damn chain out of his shirt before saying “Well that thing was dangling in my face for an entirely different reason besides you tackling me to keep me from getting shot” he damn near choked on his beer at that.

You laughed “Jay, chill. It’s no big deal. People have weird sex dreams. Doesn’t mean anything” his eyes flicked up to yours “So you don’t have any feelings for me? Because it’s been hard as hell acting like I don’t have feelings for you” “What?” you asked, sitting your drink down on the table.

He grinned and leaned over to grab your hand “I’ve wanted you for so damn long but because of my past relationship with a partner..” you shrugged “Just because you and her didn’t work out doesn’t mean anything” he stared at you for a moment before saying “I want you so damn much but I don’t want to rush things” you smiled slightly “Well in our job we could get killed tomorrow?”

He shook his head but that smile he gave you was nothing short of gorgeous “Are you trying to get me in bed?” you took a sip of her drink then nodded “Yeah, I am” he nodded then took a swig of his beer before standing up “Just making sure” and grabbed your hand.

“You’re sure about this?” Jay asked as the two of you stumbled into his apartment, barely breaking away from each other long enough to make it inside the door and get it closed behind you before he had you pushed back against it as his mouth worked the sensitive skin of your neck.

You gasped when he hit a particular spot, hands digging into the material of his shirt “I’m sure. Take your damn shirt off Jay” he pulled away from you and grinned “You’re always so bossy” before slipping his shirt over his head and tossing it. You pushed him back from you a little and he looked concerned until you smiled and ran your hands over his chest “Fuck Halstead” you couldn’t help but to be a little dumbfounded at having him in front of you like this. He grinned “I’m yours” and pulled you back into his arms, dropping another kiss to your lips before tugging you towards his bedroom. “I think you said something about wanting to be in a position with my chain dangling in your face?” you fucking whimpered in response and he chuckled “Oh I’m gonna have fun with you baby. You make such sweet sounds to be so mean to me at work”

He walked backwards into the room and sat on the edge of the bed, pulling you down into his lap. You straddled him and just the way he looked up at you could’ve made you come apart. His hands went to the hem of your shirt “Can I take this off?” you pulled it off yourself and tossed it across the room. He smiled “Look at you. Looks even better than that damn top was showing” his mouth lowered to your clothed chest, kissing across the soft mounds of flesh “What’s better is only I get to see you like this”

He reached behind you and slipped your bra off with ease before his hands came up to cup your breasts. “Damn” you moaned lightly at just how gentle he was being, like he was afraid you’d break. One hand left your breast to slip around your throat, not applying pressure just controlling your attention. “If we do this baby, know it means I’m yours and you’re mine. I don’t share well”

You nodded and he shook his head “Words baby, I need words” “I’m yours Jay” you spoke and he leaned forward, just shy of kissing you before saying “Damn right you are” he turned, flipping the two of you so your back was on the bed and he was on top of you. Your eyes flicked down to his chain and he chuckled “Does that turn you on?” you nodded and he grinned “It’s turned you on the whole time I’ve had it, hasn’t it?”

“It has” you admitted and he grinned before catching your lips in a bruising kiss. He moved from your lips, across your jaw then down your neck. The stark comparison of the warmth of his lips with the cool metal of the chain had you squirming under him. One of his hands went to your hips, pinning them.

He kissed across your chest, taking his time to mark both breasts “So everyone knows they’re his” when he got to your jeans he looked up at you and winked before slipping them off your hips. He started at your left ankle, kissing up and stopping just shy of where you needed him before giving the right leg the same treatment.

Just when you were sure you’d die from teasing he licked one long stripe through your folds and when your hips bucked up and fingers went to his hair he kissed your inner thigh and said “That’s my girl” before diving in.

—------------------

You’d had men go down on you before but Jay was an entirely different story. The way his tongue worked at your clit, fingers finding their way inside of you to move in tandem as he worked you over that edge back to back until you were pushing at his shoulders begging him “Please Jay! It’s too much”

When he pulled back to look at you he smiled before kissing your trembling thighs “How ya feeling?” you curled a finger at him and his smile turned into a full blown smirk as he kissed his way up your body before finally making it to your mouth, letting you taste yourself on him.

You could feel his hard cock pressing on your thigh so you spread your legs a little further to give him the invitation. He pressed his forehead against yours as he moved one hand to line himself up with your opening before slowly slinking in. When he was finally bottomed out you both let out a moan.

—------------------

He held himself up once he was sure you were ready and gave a tentative thrust. When your response was to grip his shoulders he buried his face into your neck for just a breath before it was like a thought occurred to him. He pulled back and grabbed your hands then pulled them up over your head,holding them in place as his eyes met yours “I wanna see you fall apart” he grunted and you felt yourself clench around him.

His eyes fluttered at the feeling “Just like that then huh baby?” he sat a rough pace that meant with each roll of his hips you could feel every ridge and vein of his cock as he pounded into you. You were itching to touch him but he still held your hands, that damn chain in your face as he worked you closer and closer to that edge.

When his fingers found your clit and he started to rub tight circles onto it you felt that pressure that had been building inside of you burst and you came with a loud moan of his name. The feeling of your orgasm pushed him over the edge as well, burying himself inside of you with one final thrust.

He finally released your hands as he buried his face in the bend of your neck, both of you working to get your breathing back to normal. Your hands went to his shoulders, smoothing down the muscles as your lips kissed any skin you could reach.

He laughed lightly and leaned up to press a kiss to your lips “A damn chain got us to admit how we felt” you shrugged and tapped it “I happen to like that damn chain” he looked down to where he was still buried hip deep in you “Yeah, I like it pretty good myself”

#jay halstead x reader #jay halstead smut #chicago pd fanfiction #chicago pd fic #jay halstead x you

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necro-hamster · 1 year ago

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liam either doesn't pass or ppl think he's way younger than he really is so he'll take what he can get tbh

giving liam my "in your 20s but you're trans so everyone thinks you're 15" trait

#he's on t #it just hasn't really worked out for him like he hoped it would :^/#voice didnt rlly drop. not a lot of body hair #CANNOT grow a beard to save his life #also doesnt help that hes kind of feminine as is #he wears eyeliner and pastels #and he'd rather deal w ppl misgendering him than giving up stuff he likes #but it is frustrating for him

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deanbrainrotwritings · 8 months ago

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— when broken is easily fixed

SUMMARY : priestly broke up with tish (yes!) uh, i mean… you watch him be pathetic and sad with his big wet green eyes.

PAIRING : boaz priestly x fem!reader (implied Latina)

CHARACTERS : tish (mentioned)

WARNINGS/TAGS : jealousy, breakups, fluff, tiny angst, innuendos, obliviousness x2

WORD COUNT : 2.7k

A/N : SURPRISE YALL, I’m back, heheheh. title from silverstein’s song. this fills the square “I’m having what you’d call a rough day” on my @jacklesversebingo card. lmao, this was nice to jump back into writing. I secretly like teaching y’all physics.

You remember the day Priestly showed up at the market in a disappointingly normal state.

No piercings, no colourful hair, no beard, no eyeliner. Just plain old California clothes, nearly looking Christian with his neat hair, and composed manners.

The only things that reassured you that Priestly was still Priestly after all, were the tattoos that peeked from outside the collar of a white dress shirt and the tiny holes in his skin where his piercings once belonged.

It was confusing at first, but he looked happy. Brighter.

You thought his parents were in town. Or that he became religious after all. Or that he joined a cult.

You teased him at first. He’d just give you this dreamy look and never said anything to ease your curiosity about his current state. He’d be out the door in a hurry, with a tiny bit of that Priestly swagger that told you he was definitely not brainwashed by a cult.

But the reason for the sudden change in him soon became clear.

One day, he walked into the store to buy groceries and other necessities with Tish. Hand in hand, the two of them. All giggles and shoves and smiles. The honeymoon phase. She’d kiss him on his cheeks, take his chin in her hand and press herself against him in an unnecessary manner to tell him something, and he’d look stupid, like he couldn’t believe she was there giving him affection.

Your stomach dropped at the sight of them.

You’d never felt the way you did before.

Yeah, there was a cringey-ness and aversion you always had for PDA and romance that you’d noticed in yourself for years, but it never bothered you like it did now. From watching Priestly and Tish be a couple.

But it also didn’t take you long to realise why it bothered you so much more. Why it was so much harder to ignore than if it were any other couple doing it. Why you felt rejected became clear.

You had feelings for Priestly.

What a dumb way to find that out.

Excuse the fuck out of yourself if you were too focused on your university courses and your job and your future and your personal life… to realise that you really actually liked him. Romantically.

You weren’t going to lie to yourself and pretend that you didn’t care at all when you were alone. You weren’t going to lie to yourself about the sting you felt. Or push away the feelings of jealousy and push down how upset you were and the other, million emotions you felt as you watched them go about their lives as a couple for months.

You never wanted to quit more badly than you did then, just to avoid having to see them get closer, clingier, more affectionate, serious. But it was the only way you could afford living in your dorm, to have enough to pay your classes, and afford your supplies and books...

You sucked it up and pretended that nothing was wrong. Like you didn’t even care about him. Like you never did.

It never really got easier, the only thing that became easy was pretending.

You blamed yourself for waiting too long. That’s what haunted you. If you’d just been braver. If you’d been more honest with yourself and him. If you’d had the courage to say what you felt. If… if…

It was torture.

The high California-in-the-summertime temperatures made you think that you were in Hell, but time passed and you accepted that your chance with him had passed. You told yourself to move on and be happy. For the most part, as long as you ignored them, it was easy to be happy again, to live your life and do whatever your wildest friend was doing to enjoy her summer.

But that happiness you’d seen in Priestly was gone by the time the fall semester came around. It took six long, horrible months for that happiness in him to fade away.

It didn’t last. Just like the spring and the summer.

Until one day you didn’t see her with him. And the next day he was alone again. And the next week; alone. And the week after that, too.

No Tish.

Just mopey, wet-eyed Priestley.

His stubble grew, his eyeliner returned—slightly smeared from tears.

No more Banana Republic, Tommy Hillfigure, or Calvin Klein. Just those ridiculous shirts that always made you smile.

He entered the store today again after a week.

The shop's bell rang and you looked up out of habit, and watched him with his gorgeous green eyes cast downward to the slightly dusty floor you were trying to sweep. God, you’d guess it was more of a depressing, someone’s-dead type of chime than a merry one—from the state of him.

His hair was a mess and slightly longer, it was not brushed or styled neatly. Like he woke up from a nap after breakfast and decided to go to the store because he remembered something he forgot before his nap.

You felt bad… at first.

His cheeks were pink and his eyes were red-rimmed and glassy from tears. He had darkened bags under his eyes. But as he moped around and you avoided being noticed by him out of awkwardness, you caught a glimpse of his shirt, which amused you: Hang in there, it gets worse, with a little thumbs up, too.

He came completely in black, too.

It was unavoidably funny. But you stifled your snort as you continued to sweep quietly, until eventually, you got lost in thought again. Your head filled with your to-do list before entering your final semester.

But you eventually found yourself in the same aisle as him. You swept the trash up into the dustpan as you watched him try to hold bread, bananas, napkins, and toilet paper in one arm while trying to take out a gallon of milk from the fridge.

You saw what would happen from a mile away and quickly released the broom and left the dustpan where it was to help him. Before you could actually get to him, the napkins toppled out of his hold and he mistakenly released the milk to grab it which caused the gallon to burst open when it fell to the floor like a ripe melon in the sun.

You gasped when the milk splattered on you, but you didn’t actually mind at all. Priestly, on the other hand, sighed heavily again, completely giving up.

He finally looked at you when you reached for the napkins he dropped and you smiled warily at him, hoping it appeared more reassuring than pitiful. You handed him the napkins and he murmured an apology, taking them from you.

“They say when you drop your food, it's because someone craved it,” you tried to make light of the situation but he didn’t even notice. He gently placed everything down on top of the shelf behind him with a deep sigh.

“I’m so sorry,” he frowned at the large white puddle, “I’m having what you’d call a rough day.” You huffed a soft laugh which made him raise a brow at you.

“Day? You’ve been mopey and pathetic for weeks,” you teased playfully, but he remained quiet. You figured you’d offended him or hurt his feelings because he sniffled and looked down at his hands.

Your face softened.

“I’ll pay for that.” He pointed to the spilt milk and broken gallon.

“It’s fine,” you reassured him. “Let me clean this up. I’ll help you when I finish.” You turned around to pick up some napkins you kept behind the counter and he made a sound of protest.

He followed you, you heard him walking behind you quickly. “I made this mess. I should clean it. Besides, it’s almost your lunch break,” he tried to stop you. You laughed softly and shook your head as you laid yourself over the counter to grab the napkins from underneath the counter, your feet dangled embarrassingly above the floor.

“Hey, it’s no trouble,” you dismissed, smiling triumphantly to yourself when you got up with the napkins. “Go be a customer and bring your stuff… take two trips this time. There’s no one else here.” You snatched the napkins away from him when he tried to take them from you.

He smiled a little.

It made you smile more earnestly.

“Okay… Fine…” he gave in hesitantly and followed you as you walked towards the mess he made. He picked up the stuff he left on the shelf and watched you squat down and lay some napkins over the puddle. The paper soaked the milk up and he slowly walked to the counter then returned as you finished up.

He stood there awkwardly at first. Still just watching you clean up and then you got up and smiled at him sweetly. He smiled back at you gently and your heart sped up the way it always did when he looked at you. Your stomach clenched happily, but you frowned and quickly stepped away from him to throw the wet paper towels away along with the gallon that had contained the milk.

“I’m really sorry,” he apologised again when you returned.

“Priestly, it’s fine, accidents happen,” you chuckled to convince him and eyed the new gallon of milk. “You ready?” You wiped your hands on your jeans despite still feeling icky.

“Yeah,” he answered quietly, then looked around at the unusually empty store. “You want me to finish sweeping for you? Or maybe… Do you wanna wash your hands? You look uncomfortable. I can wait,” he rambled.

You laughed at him, this was all too much for you so “early” in the morning. He instantly shut up and became flustered. His free hand flew up to the back of his neck and he laughed awkwardly.

“Well, if it matters so much to you, put the Closed sign on while I throw the stuff in the dustpan away and wash my hands. I’ll meet you at the counter in five.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he said automatically.

You rolled your eyes at the name, but walked away wordlessly to finish up. You actually were pretty hungry.

When you returned, Preistly had his hands in his trouser’s pockets, he was chewing on his lip, and his cheeks were red from embarrassment.

“What’s that thing you said earlier about dropping food?” He asked, trying to alleviate the thick tension that hung in the air around the two of you. You smiled as you scanned the items he needed.

“Oh, nothing,” you shrugged, “just a saying.”

He was quiet for a moment and then you looked up at him. He was already looking at you and your face instantly started to get warm again. You looked away as casually as you could to finish scanning the remaining items and neatly placing them inside a plastic bag.

“It was funny.”

“Ha, I guess…” you shrugged awkwardly and told him the price of his groceries.

“Right…” he took out random, balled up dollar bills from his back pocket despite having a wallet with enough space. You smiled curiously and took the money from him.

God, hurry and leave, you prayed internally as you placed his money in the cash register and took out his change. You dropped three quarters and a nickel into his hand when you began hearing the soft sound of rain hitting the windows and the concrete outside, and the delightful aroma of petrichor sneaking through the vents into the store.

“Fuck,” Priestly muttered, his fingertips grazed your palm and your body lit up like the second the temperature of the universe hit one billion Kelvin after the Big Bang, finally allowing neutrons and protons to form atomic nuclei as they hit and stuck to each other. “The worst day ever.”

You snapped out of your daze, disappointed, but not surprised at his obliviousness.

“I could give you a ride,” you offered with a shrug, taking your bag from inside the bottom drawer as he took his bag of groceries.

“I keep wasting your time…” he trailed off, but he did not decline your offer.

“That’s fine. Where do you live?” You made your way around the counter and walked past him to stand at the door and watch the rain slowly come heavier.

“You’re a stranger,” he joked, and you turned to roll your eyes at him. “What? You could secretly be a Mankiller.” You opened the door with a sarcastic laugh and squirmed as rain hit your face.

“Please, look at me,” you scoffed playfully, locking the door to the store once Priestly stepped outside with you.

“I am,” he said gently.

You looked up at him with your brows knitted in confusion. “Whatever. My car’s over here,” you brushed him off and quickly led him to your car.

You both sighed once you were safely inside the freshly cleaned car. He laughed to himself as he looked around inquisitively, but you didn't question him. You turned your car on instead to pull out of the driveway and asked him again where he lived as a Britney Spears song played on the radio. This time he finally answered your question seriously.

The conversation was light and you kept asking him about the sandwich shop he worked at and about his friends to avoid talking about yourself or his break up. It was basically small talk, bleh. The conversation was superficial because you didn’t want to get close to him, not now, not when he was freshly broken up and still clearly hurting.

He ran his hand through his hair once you parked outside his house, somehow he managed to make it look tame. He looked at the time and you waited patiently for him to get out so you could leg it and cry to your friend over the phone about how you were so not over him.

“Stay,” he proposed suddenly when he unbuckled his seatbelt. “I can make you a sandwich, I’m really good at that.” You shook your head at first and racked your brain for some excuse to get away. “Whatever you want, I’ll make it for you, I’ve even got some soda in the fridge. Please, I feel really bad.” You chuckled softly at him and the pleading eyes he gave you. They looked much wider and greener.

“Fine,” you gave in, “I’m really hungry, so… I guess I could stay for a bit.” He lit up slightly and started to get out of the car before you managed to turn it off. But you caught up with him as he kicked the welcome mat to the side to retrieve his house’s key.

“You want a sub?” He asked, you bit your tongue to stop yourself from making a joke out of that and nodded as you entered his messy house. Oh well, he’s been going through a breakup.

“Oh, God, I forgot it’s a mess,” he apologised when he looked at the star of everything around him. “Close your eyes, pretend you don’t see it,” he pleaded jokingly.

“As long as I don’t step in something squishy, we’re all good,” you reassured him with a small laugh. You followed him to the kitchen and figured he must be going through the not-eating breakup rather than the eating-my-feelings breakup.

“How big do you want it?” He asked you, setting the bag down on the counter and going to wash his hands.

“How much do you think I can take?” You asked before you could actually filter it out of your mind. He quickly looked at you, amused and intrigued while he dried his hands with a clean towel from inside his cabinet. “Kidding, how big is it?” He laughed loudly at your question which made you get more flustered, but he still gave you a measurement with his hands. “Half of that,” you tried to ignore his face and sat down before your knees gave out from embarrassment.

“If you can only take half of that, I don’t think you could handle me.”

Your mouth fell open. You were sure you stopped breathing for a few moments when your heart stuttered and your stomach lurched at the thought.

This time, you blinked at him in surprise, but your eyes stayed wide, and you felt yourself turn hotter before you both bursted out laughing.

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jacklesversebingo23 masterlist

boaz priestly masterlist

do not steal, plagiarise, translate, or republish my work on another platform

#jacklesversebingo23 #boaz priestly #ten inch hero #priestly #priestly x reader #priestly fluff

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drieddpetals · 9 months ago

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modern things the crows would love

(based of the reference of them being in the victorian era)

(also, i've seen a couple people do this so full credit to them for inspiring this)

kaz:

* (secretly) card shuffling asmr/those asmr videos where they teach you card games, even tho he knows how to play them already

* (when he was a kid) those diaries where you have to have a code to get in with a speaker to record messages in

* ^^ also diaries with locks on them

* combination locks

* hard swing jazz

* mean girls (movie & musical)

* "dark acadamia" literature

* making sure everyone in a fifteen mile radius of him knows that frankenstein was the DOCTOR and the monster was frankenstein's MONSTER

* making up conlangs/ciphers for fun

* ^^ getting the crows to memorize them so they can communicate secretly

* gloves with pads on the fingers that let you use screens

inej:

* tumblr aesthetic moodboards

* taking hyperspecific uquiz personality quizzes

* crystal jewelry

* competitive gymnastics & tumbling

* claw clips & french pins

* colored eyeliner & mascara

* midi skirts

* making boards on pinterest—sharing those boards with jesper & wylan

* ^^ having massive joint pinterest boards with all the crows

* leg warmers

* ballet & "ballet aesthetic"

* any movie with natalie portman

* birkenstocks but specifically the ones with a holder for your big toe (idk if this makes sense)

* phantom of the opera

* oil diffusers

* american girl dolls

jesper:

* laser tag

* rollerskating & roller derby

* plato's closet

* tourist jewelry

* volleyball

* colored & funky shaped sunglasses

* just dance 2

* bruno mars

* fall out boy

* cargo shorts

* hamilton

* finding obscure fashion inspo on pinterest

* showing everyone how he can run barefoot on gravel

* gyaru fashion

* sour candy

* mt. dew

* saying, "i'm just joshing you" ironically

* sneezing extremely loud on purpose when it's dead silent

wylan:

* papa louie arcade games

* laufey

* asmr

* flute beatboxing

* green and brown colored converse

* tumblr aesthetic moodboards

* magnetic puzzle tiles

* percy jackson

* moisturizer with sunscreen in it

* the great comet of 1812

* dr. pepper

* accidentally dropping really traumatizing memories bc he genuinely thinks they're just funny stories from his childhood

* watercolor pencils

* shazam & the google "hum a tune" feature

nina:

* forever 21

* lush

* those mommy baking blogs that post their whole life stories before the recipe

* french tip manicures but in any other color but white

* ^^ also charms on nails

* gel manicures

* megan thee stallion

* lip gloss

* juicy couture

* the met gala

* amy winehouse

* duolingo/memrise/babbel

* panera bread

matthias:

* ^^ also, those mommy baking blogs that post their whole life stories before the recipe

* volunteering at animal shelters

* carhaart & patagonia

* those massage chairs at malls

* apple watches

* buying those massive bottles of ibuprofen at costco

* ^^ buying bulk protein powder from costco

* ^^^ generally he just likes costco & buying things in bulk

* colored fairy lights (HATES LED light strips)

* those big tubs of aquaphor

* vera bradley blankets

* gallon water bottles with the motivational time checkpoints

* at home gyms

* the classic white boy flannel over hoodie combo

* jacuzzis

* massage guns

* steel toe boots

* yawning and sneezing like a dad

* hair and beard oil

#some of these don't make sense in the context of *modern things* but idc #as it went on this list sort of became a headcanon list #but do y'all see my vision #kaz brekker #six of crows #inej ghafa #jesper fahey #wylan van eck #nina zenik #matthias helvar #six of crows fandom #soc #soc fandom

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evussy · 20 days ago

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Word count: 9k words (smut with plot, TW cult, dub-con, mentions of knife, force intimacy, manipulation, gaslighting, use of bible verses while having sex, fl virgin, unprotected sex, dark & disturbing—it’s literally a Kai Anderson FanFic let’s be fr)

DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT READ AT YOUR OWN RISK MINORS DO NOT INTERACT.

Faith = Reader

Messiah

Laughter echoed through the kitchen, warm and carefree. Faith stood at the counter, her hands buried in dough as she kneaded, her thin white sleep dress brushing her knees. A smudge of flour streaked her cheek, unnoticed in the sunlight streaming through the floral curtains. Across the room, Emma whisked something in a stainless-steel bowl, her messy bun bouncing with every laugh. Her oversized white T-shirt and pajama pants looked as casual as the conversation.

"Remember when I first met you? You couldn't even speak English!" Emma teased, her eyes sparkling with amusement.

Faith groaned, laughing as she rolled the dough beneath her palms. "Oh, come on! Forget that! What did you expect? I'm an immigrant!"

Emma leaned against the counter, catching her breath from laughing. "Your pronunciation was always so funny!"

"Stop it! You're so mean!" Faith threw a small pinch of flour at her, unable to hide her grin.

Emma smirked, wiping her arm. "And that time you told me about your first date—using all those metaphors! I didn't understand a thing, but your confused face—"

The words cut off as the front door slammed open, the sound like a gunshot reverberating through the house. Faith froze, the laughter draining from her face. Emma's whisk stilled mid-air, her expression snapping into alarm.

Four strangers stepped into the kitchen, their presence as oppressive as a stormcloud. Three men and one woman, all in their late twenties, towered over the two young women. The first man, tall with a thick beard, scanned the room with a predatory gaze.

"You look happy. Contented," he said, his voice heavy with sarcasm as his eyes landed on Emma.

Emma looked like she wanted to melt into the floor. Her skin turned pale, her shoulders curling inward defensively. Faith glanced at her, confused and uneasy.

"Haven't seen you in a while, Emma," another man chimed in, his bleached-white hair gleaming under the sunlight. Dressed in a sharp red suit, he smirked with condescension. "Our leader is wondering if you're still loyal. You know you can't just walk away, right? Ignoring all your responsibilities?"

Emma swallowed hard, her hands trembling. "I didn't walk away," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "I'm not running anywhere."

Faith's frown deepened. "Emma, who are these people?" she asked softly, her unease growing.

Emma stammered, but no words came out.

"What's the matter, Emma? Are you ashamed of your family now?" the woman sneered. She was pale and sharp-featured, her thick eyeliner giving her an almost predatory look.

"You've got work to finish. Did you think we'd forget?" growled a third man, dressed in a blue uniform that looked out of place in the casual home setting.

"Just give me more time—I promise, I'll do it," Emma pleaded, her voice trembling.

"Promises, promises," the woman mocked, her lips curling into a cold smile. "Maybe you should make a pinky promise with him. It's been weeks, Emma. Do you think the world revolves around you? We're starting to wonder if you're useless."

Faith's jaw tightened as she stepped forward. "Excuse me? Don't talk to her like that. And who the hell are you to call yourselves her family? I've met her family—it's definitely not you!"

"Faith, shut up!" Emma hissed, panic flickering across her face.

The bearded man tilted his head, studying Faith with detached curiosity. "Should we kill her?" he asked the woman coldly. "She's a friend. Might know something."

"No! Don't!" Emma stepped forward, her hands raised in desperation. "She has nothing to do with this! Please, don't get her involved! I'll explain everything to Kai—I'll do what he asked, I swear. Just leave her alone."

Faith's panic boiled over. "What the hell, Emma? Who are these people? What's going on?"

The man in the red suit smirked. "Kai hasn't given the order yet. Let her explain. Killing them both here would be messy."

"You're not taking her!" Faith shouted, grabbing Emma's arm protectively. "Emma, these people are insane! Don't go with them!"

But her resistance was futile. The men moved quickly, one grabbing Faith's wrist while another yanked Emma toward the door. Faith struggled, but their strength overpowered hers.

"Take her too," the woman said coldly, pointing at Faith. "She'll be a nuisance otherwise. We'll deal with them both at the house."

The terror on Emma's face mirrored Faith's as the two of them were dragged outside, their protests drowned out by the sound of the van's doors slamming shut. The bright afternoon sun burned against Faith's skin, but the chill in her chest was far colder as the engine roared to life.

They were dragged across a vast living room, their footsteps muffled against the polished wooden floor. The dim, golden glow of ceiling lights struggled to pierce the heavy shadows lingering in the room, leaving much of the dark-paneled space cloaked in an oppressive gloom.

The air felt thick, suffocating, as they were shoved forward. Their captors gripped their arms tightly, forcing them to the center of the room. Faith stumbled, her bare feet sliding on the cold floor, her thin dress doing little to shield her from the chill. Emma, silent and trembling, barely lifted her head.

Then came the sound of measured footsteps, echoing from the staircase at the back of the room. All eyes turned as a man descended the wide, creaking steps.

His buzzed hair gleamed faintly under the dim light, his sharp features carved with calm authority. He wore a simple black shirt tucked neatly into dark jeans, the sleeves rolled just above his elbows, revealing forearms marked by faint scars and veins that spoke of quiet strength.

As he reached the bottom step, their captors released Faith and Emma abruptly, as if their very presence might offend the man. Faith staggered slightly but caught herself, her wide eyes darting toward Emma, who stood frozen, her arms crossed defensively over her chest.

The man's gaze swept over them, lingering just a moment longer on Faith. His expression was unreadable—calm, calculating, and unnervingly composed. He stopped a few feet away, his presence filling the room like a sudden drop in temperature.

No one spoke. The silence stretched taut, broken only by the faint creak of the wooden floor beneath his boots as he shifted his weight. Finally, he clasped his hands behind his back, his voice low and steady when he spoke.

"Emma," he said, his tone devoid of warmth but heavy with unspoken expectation.

Emma flinched as if his voice had struck her. "Kai..." she stammered, her voice cracking.

Faith's breath hitched. This is him. This is the man they were talking about.

Kai tilted his head slightly, his dark eyes never leaving Emma. "You've been very busy," he said evenly. "And yet, not busy enough. Do you know how much trouble you've caused me?"

Emma's knees wavered, and she clasped her hands in front of her, her lips trembling. "I was going to—I didn't mean to—I just needed more time."

Kai let the silence stretch for a moment longer before his gaze shifted to Faith. His eyes scanned her slowly, taking in every detail—the flour still faintly dusting her cheek, the tremor in her hands, the way her dress clung to her frame.

"And who," he asked quietly, his tone sharp enough to slice through the air, "is this?"

No one spoke. The silence was suffocating, heavy with unspoken tension. Faith could feel it—the weight of their hesitation—as if uttering her name would seal her fate.

Kai's sharp gaze flickered between the people in the room, his patience thinning. He took a deliberate step toward Faith, the soles of his boots barely making a sound against the floor.

"Cat got your tongue?" he murmured, his voice low but cutting, every syllable sinking into her like a blade. His dark eyes lingered on her trembling form for a moment before he glanced around, his brows lifting in a calm, expectant gesture.

Someone had to speak.

"Her name's Faith," the woman finally said, her voice neutral but clipped. "That's what Emma called her earlier."

Kai tilted his head slightly, his gaze returning to Faith. "And why is she here?" he asked, his tone still calm but laced with an edge that made every word feel like a warning.

The man in the blue uniform shifted uncomfortably before speaking. "She's a friend. Tried to interfere earlier when we came for Emma. She wasn't part of the plan, but we didn't have time to deal with her, so we brought her along. Figured she might know something... or start spilling later."

Kai's eyes didn't leave Faith as the man spoke. The explanation seemed to hang in the air, sinking in slowly.

He inhaled deeply through his nose, his sharp jaw tightening for a brief moment before relaxing. His gaze bore into her, assessing every detail—her posture, the way her bare feet shifted nervously against the cold floor, and the fear radiating off her like heat.

"Faith," he repeated, his voice rolling over the syllables as though tasting them. It wasn't a question. It was an acknowledgment, deliberate and uncomfortably intimate.

Faith's chest tightened as she kept her gaze fixed on the wooden floor. Her pulse thundered in her ears, drowning out the oppressive silence. Her instincts screamed at her to look away, to disappear into herself, yet she felt his eyes crawling over her like a physical weight.

What had started as a simple, impulsive defense of her friend had spiraled into something far worse. She could feel it in the way the room seemed to darken around him, in the chill that seeped into her bones.

She swallowed hard, her throat dry. She was too afraid to meet his gaze.

Kai's lips quirked, not into a smile but something far more unsettling, like he was memorizing her—every quiver, every breath, every ounce of her fear.

"So, tell me, Emma." Kai's voice was smooth, almost gentle, but the undertone was unmistakable. It was a command wrapped in false affection.

Emma's breath hitched audibly, her shoulders tightening. She couldn't bring herself to meet his gaze.

"Why haven't you done what I told you to do?" His tone dropped lower, each word deliberate, slow, and weighted.

Faith watched him, her confusion mounting. His voice carried an unsettling mix of reprimand and encouragement, like a parent disappointed yet still coaxing.

"You're holding back our movement," he continued. "You know I need you, right? No one could've done this better than you. You're perfect for this. I trust you enough to know that."

"I know, I'm sorry..." Emma stammered, her voice trembling. "I just... I'm having cold feet... Kai—I—"

Her words trailed off, disjointed and incomplete. Faith listened intently but couldn't make sense of the exchange. Cold feet? Movement? Perfect for what? The vagueness hung heavy in the air, and this time, despite her growing fear, Faith stayed silent.

Kai stepped closer to Emma, his hand rising to cup her face with unsettling tenderness. His thumb brushed against her cheek, a gesture so soft it made Faith flinch.

"I know this is hard for you," he murmured, his voice a mockery of comfort. "But I love you, Emma. You know that, right?"

Emma nodded weakly, her body trembling under his touch. "I know," she whispered, her voice breaking. "But I'm scared. I'm really, really scared. I don't want to die."

Faith's lips parted as her best friend's words sunk in. Her stomach churned with a mix of shock and disbelief. Die? What the fuck is he asking her to do that involves dying?!

Kai didn't flinch at Emma's tears. If anything, his grip seemed to tighten slightly, though his tone remained soft.

"If you do this," he said, his voice almost hypnotic, "you'll live forever through me."

Emma's red-rimmed eyes flicked toward Faith, her gaze full of something Faith couldn't immediately place—regret, guilt, or maybe resignation. It felt like a silent goodbye, a final acknowledgment of something Faith wasn't ready to understand.

Faith's body tensed as her heart pounded. A sickening realization clawed at the edges of her mind, but the words still wouldn't come. She could only watch as Kai's hand lingered on Emma's tear-streaked face, his presence suffocating them both.

Kai's eyes followed Emma's gaze, his curiosity sharpening as both their eyes landed on Faith. Emma quickly averted her gaze, but Kai's lingered. His stare held an intensity that made Faith's skin crawl.

Then, as if deciding something in his mind, Kai looked back at Emma, the corner of his mouth curling into a faint, almost playful smirk.

"Do you want to do it together?" he asked casually, as if proposing something mundane. "Your friend isn't leaving here anyway. That way, you won't be alone, and it'll be less scary."

Faith's heart dropped. Her head snapped toward Emma, searching her friend's face for any semblance of an explanation, but all she found was panic.

"No!" Emma shook her head vehemently, her voice rising in desperation. "No, please, let her go. She has nothing to do with this, Kai. It's not fair for my best friend—"

"Best friend?" Kai interrupted, his tone dripping with amusement.

He turned back to Faith, taking a slow step toward her. She stiffened as his gaze swept over her, not in a leering way, but like he was studying a new piece of art. His eyes held an unnerving mix of interest and calculation, like he was fitting her into some grander scheme.

Faith's lips parted to speak, but the words died in her throat. She didn't trust her voice.

"She's your best friend?" Kai asked again, his tone softer, almost teasing. He tilted his head slightly, his gaze flicking back to Emma. "And you thought it was fair to bring her here? Into this?"

Emma's breathing quickened, and her eyes darted back and forth between Faith and Kai. "I didn't bring her—she just happened to be at my house. Please, she doesn't know anything!"

Kai smiled faintly, though it didn't reach his eyes. "Interesting," he murmured. His gaze slid back to Faith, his expression unreadable.

Faith's pulse raced as she struggled to comprehend the exchange. Every word between Kai and Emma felt like a puzzle piece, but none of it fit together. All she knew was that whatever Kai was suggesting, it was bad—very bad.

"Well," Kai continued, his voice light but laced with menace, "since she's already here, maybe she can stay a little longer. You said she's your best friend, right? Wouldn't you want her by your side for something so important?"

Faith's stomach dropped, and she clenched her fists. Her instincts screamed to run, but she couldn't move.

Emma shook her head violently, tears streaming down her face. "No! No, Kai, please! I'll do whatever you want, but let her go. She doesn't deserve this."

"You know I can't let her leave," Kai said, his voice eerily calm, addressing Emma as though Faith wasn't even there. "She already has an idea of what's going on. Unless..." He trailed off, turning his head toward Faith with a slow, deliberate gaze. "...she wants to be a part of us? Of course, I'd never insist or force anyone to join," he added smoothly, a false warmth lacing his tone. "I didn't force you, remember?"

Emma stood frozen, her face pale, her breaths coming in shallow gasps.

"But if she doesn't..." Kai sighed, a theatrical display of weariness. "She can't go on another day, Emma. You know I have to be fair. No one gets exceptions here—not even your best friend." He emphasized the last two words, his voice hardening. "I have rules, Emma. Rules that protect all of us."

"She's got to stay alive, please," Emma pleaded, her voice cracking as tears streamed down her cheeks. "This is my fault—"

"Your fault?" Kai interrupted sharply, his tone deceptively soft. "Is being here a mistake for you?" His brow furrowed as if her words had wounded him, his eyes narrowing in mock sadness.

Emma's mouth opened, but no words came. She choked on her reply, her fear tangible.

Faith, on the floor, tried to muster every ounce of courage she had. "Can't you just let Emma go? We won't say a thing to anyone. We'll pretend this never happened—"

Her plea was cut short as Kai's hand struck her across the face with brutal force. The impact sent her sprawling to the ground, her cheek stinging with a searing heat.

Kai exhaled heavily, looking down at her with disdain. His hand slid down his face, rubbing his mouth before falling limply to his side. His stress seemed genuine, but it only made him more menacing.

Emma flinched at the sound of the slap, her sobs stifled as her body froze in place. She squeezed her eyes shut, unable to move, unwilling to draw Kai's attention again.

"You don't get to talk back," Kai hissed, his voice dangerously low as he loomed over Faith. He pointed a finger down at her, his expression cold and unrelenting. "You don't even have the right to speak when I'm not talking to you. Do you understand?"

Faith pressed her trembling hands to the floor, her face throbbing as she avoided his piercing gaze. She didn't answer, her fear locking the words in her throat.

Kai waited, his silence heavy and oppressive, before stepping back toward Emma. "Fix this, Emma," he said simply, his tone soft but loaded with a threat that didn't need to be spoken.

Kai gestured to the man in the blue uniform, who immediately stepped forward and handed him a knife. The blade glinted coldly under the dim light as Kai tapped it rhythmically against his palm, the sound sharp and deliberate, like a clock ticking down.

He turned to Emma, his expression softening into a mockery of concern. "Are you still loyal to me, Emma?" he asked, his voice laced with feigned worry, though his eyes betrayed his predatory intent.

Emma's breath hitched, her body trembling. She didn't respond.

"C'mon," Kai urged, stepping closer and holding the knife out to her. "Take it."

Hesitantly, Emma extended her shaking hand and grasped the knife. It felt heavier than it should, her palm slick with sweat as her fingers closed around the handle.

Kai's gaze bore into her, his lips curving into a faint smile. "Now prove it to me," he said, his tone gentle yet commanding. "Prove to me that you're still loyal. That you're still my girl, Emma."

Emma's knees buckled, but she stayed standing, clutching the knife tightly.

"Kill this b*tch," Kai said nonchalantly, gesturing toward Faith with a lazy flick of his hand, as if her life were a minor inconvenience to be discarded.

Faith froze in place, her heart hammering in her chest. Her body moved before her mind caught up, stumbling back a step as if to distance herself from the growing horror.

"Emma," Faith whispered, her voice barely audible. Her wide, tear-filled eyes met her best friend's. She shook her head slowly, her lips trembling. "Please. Don't do this."

Kai watched the exchange with an air of amusement, his arms crossing as he leaned casually against the back of a chair. "Go ahead," he said, his voice light, as if they were discussing the weather.

"Show me your loyalty, Emma. I'm waiting."

Emma's hands shook violently, the blade quivering as her grip faltered. Tears streamed down her face, her lips parting as though she wanted to say something but couldn't find the words.

Faith's back hit the wall, her hands raised in a quiet, desperate plea. "Emma, look at me," she whispered. "Don't let him do this to you. You don't have to do this."

Kai's expression darkened, his patience thinning. "Emma," he barked sharply, causing both women to flinch. "You don't make me doubt you, do you?"

The room fell silent, save for Emma's ragged breathing.

"Kai... I—I'll do what you ask me," Emma stammered, her voice cracking under the weight of her desperation. "Sooner. Immediately. Tomorrow! Just... just spare Faith! Please!" Her tear-filled eyes darted toward Faith. "Faith, you'll be a part of us, right? You'll help us, right?" she cried, her tone pleading, almost frantic, as though trying to convince herself as much as her friend.

Faith's chest heaved with sobs, her back pressed firmly against the wall. "I don't even know what this is, Emma!" she cried out, her voice raw and trembling. "What the hell are you in? What's happening?"

"You just have to be loyal to Kai," Emma said, trembling, her grip on the knife tightening as though holding onto it might anchor her. "Like me—like everyone else. Help us—" Her voice cracked, and she broke into another sob.

Kai scoffed, the sound low and condescending. He stepped forward, his hands shoved into his pockets as his shadow loomed over both women. "And in what way," he said slowly, his tone dripping with disdain, "will she be useful to me?"

Emma froze, her breath hitching as Kai's cold gaze burned into her.

"You can barely manage to be useful yourself, Emma," he continued, shaking his head, disappointment laced in his words. "Why would I waste my time on someone weaker than you?"

Emma's knees buckled, but she remained standing, her head bowed in shame and fear. Faith, meanwhile, stood frozen, her mind racing for an escape that didn't exist.

Kai clicked his tongue, pacing slowly between them. "You disappoint me, Emma. Again," he muttered, his voice a mix of mockery and menace. "Now tell me—why exactly should I listen to your pathetic begging?"

"She can cook for you and clean," Emma said hurriedly, almost stumbling over her words. "She's good at it! Isn't that what women are for?" The last phrase escaped her lips involuntarily, something she'd heard Kai say countless times.

Kai's lips twisted into a sneer, his eyes narrowing with contempt. "That's all?" He scoffed, his voice dripping with disdain. "She can't even kill? Does she even have anything to fight for? Like we do?" He took a step closer to Faith, his gaze intense and piercing.

"I can't kill," Faith said quickly, her voice shaking with fear. "I can't go to jail. I don't want to go to jail," she added, her heart pounding in her chest. She couldn't risk everything—her life, her sick sister, the fragile sense of stability she had left.

Kai's gaze shifted back to Emma, a silent agreement passing between them. He shrugged with a bored expression. "See?" he said simply, as though the answer was obvious. "She's not worth it."

"Faith, please!" Emma's voice cracked with frustration. Her hands trembled at her sides, desperate to find some way to fix this—to save her friend from whatever fate Kai had in store for her.

"Aren't you looking for the right woman to bear your successor? Why not her?" The man with white hair and a red suit spoke, his voice daring, cutting through the tense silence.

Kai stopped dead in his tracks, his lips slightly parted as the suggestion hung in the air. The idea seemed to sink in slowly, his gaze shifting between Emma, Faith, and the man who had spoken. His expression darkened, considering the proposition.

Faith's face drained of color, her eyes wide with terror. The weight of the suggestion settled over her like a suffocating fog. She felt as though her life was being toyed with, threatened by the very thought of what they might be suggesting.

"Emma! Speak! They can't do that to me!" Faith shouted, her voice cracking with shock and panic, eyes pleading with her best friend for help.

For a moment, the room fell into a suffocating silence. Kai's gaze never left Faith, slowly tracing her form from head to toe, as if he were sizing her up. She was fragile, all fire and defiance on the outside, but he could see it—the fear in her eyes, the trembling in her stance. It was clear. He could break her, reshape her into what he wanted, force her into submission.

The white, thin dress she wore—innocent and delicate—suddenly made perfect sense. She looked like a sacrificial lamb, untouched, pure... like the Virgin Mary, offering herself for something much darker.

"Faith..." Kai's voice was soft, almost reverent, as if speaking her name brought something sacred to the moment. She stood before him, trembling, untouched, like she had stepped out of a storybook. "Maybe this is fate?" he murmured, a strange, chilling satisfaction in his words.

"You're insane! All of you are insane!" Faith lashed out, her voice sharp with defiance. "I'm never going to have sex with you, you disgusting piece of shi-"

Before she could finish, the bearded man stepped forward, pressing the cold barrel of a gun against her neck. The air in the room felt like it had been sucked out. Her heart raced as everyone held their breath, waiting for something to happen. But Kai-he was calm, his eyes never leaving Faith, a twisted admiration flickering across his face. He wasn't offended.

No, he was in awe.

The gun's cold metal dug into her skin, and Faith refused to flinch. "I'd rather be killed today than let you have me," she spat, her voice steady despite the panic clawing at her throat. "At least I can keep my dignity! You're not going to be my first. Just thinking about it makes me sick! A baby? A crazy child like you?" She glared at Kai, the anger surging through her. She was ready for death now.

Anything was better than being a vessel for his madness.

Kai didn't respond immediately. Instead, he looked at her, eyes narrowing, lips curling into a dark smile. "So, you're a virgin?" His voice was quiet, but every word felt deliberate, like he was savoring it.

Faith's chest tightened, but she didn't answer. It was as if cold water had been poured over her, freezing her in place. His look-satisfied, pleased-sent a shiver through her, and she couldn't tear her gaze away.

"You're clean. Untouched..." Kai mused, his eyes glinting with something dangerous. The way he said it-like it was something he owned now-sent a wave of unease crashing through her.

"Get that gun out of her face," Kai ordered. He motioned to two of his men. The one with the white hair and the bearded one. They moved quickly, grabbing her arms and pulling her toward a room. Faith screamed, struggling against their hold, her fists beating uselessly against their grip. But it was no use. They dragged her away, her cries echoing in the empty hallway.

The room was stark and cold, its simplicity amplifying the fear that clung to the air. A queen-sized bed sat in the center, its white pillows and sheets marred by the faintest signs of old stains. Wooden furniture—nothing fancy—lined the walls, a small cabinet, and a bathroom tucked off to the side. Hours had passed since she was brought in here, the weight of time pressing heavily on her chest. She had searched the room meticulously, rifling through every cabinet and corner, hoping for a weapon -anything. But there was nothing. Every attempt to open the door was met with cold, mocking voices from outside, telling her it was useless.

She paced, anxiously, her thoughts racing.

Then, the door creaked open.

Kai stepped inside, his presence as imposing as ever. But this time, his gaze was different. It wasn't filled with the usual disdain, but rather something unsettling -something that made her feel like her existence meant more to him now, like she had some kind of purpose to him.

"Do you want to pray first, Faith?" he asked, holding a Bible in his hands, his voice deceptively calm.

"F*ck you!" she spat, trembling with a mix of anger and fear.

In a fluid motion, Kai stepped forward, slamming the Bible across her face. The sting exploded across her skin. "The mother of my child won't speak like that," he said coldly, his eyes narrowing. "You need to understand your place here, hm?"

"I'm not a mother," she spat again, her lip split and bleeding.

His eyes darkened, his patience visibly thinning. He exhaled sharply. "Get on the bed," he ordered, his tone firm and unyielding. Every word felt like a weight, pressing her further down.

She shook her head violently. "K*Il me instead," she cried, her voice breaking with desperation.

Without saying a word, Kai motioned for two men to enter. The sight of them only made her heart race faster, her fear spiking.

"F*cking tie her to the bed," Kai instructed, his voice void of any mercy.

The men moved quickly, grabbing her as she screamed, her hands struggling to free themselves. The man in the blue uniform reached behind his back, pulling out a set of handcuffs. Faith thrashed, kicking and shouting, but it was no use. They were too strong, too many. They forced her down onto the bed, pinning her in place before cuffing her hands to the metal headboard.

Her body went rigid, her screams echoing in the room. She thrashed with every ounce of strength she had, but the steel cuffs bit into her wrists, and she was trapped.

And there stood Kai, towering over her feet. His presence alone was enough to make her stomach churn. The Bible he clutched in his hands felt like a twisted contradiction against the cruelty in his eyes.

Kai's gaze burned into her, his dark eyes alight with a fervor that bordered on madness. Slowly, he began unbuttoning his shirt, his movements deliberate as if to savor the moment. The room seemed to grow colder, the weight of his intentions suffocating.

Faith's breathing hitched as the shirt slipped from his shoulders, revealing the hard planes of his chest. His skin was marred only by the inked symbol that dominated the center—a blazing sun with rays curling outward, and at its core, a single, unblinking eye. It stared out like a sentinel, its design intricate and foreboding, as if it were alive and watching her every move.

Below the tattoo, his chest was chiseled, every muscle defined, the sharp lines of his abs dipping into a taut V-shape. A faint trail of dark hair ran from his navel downward, disappearing beneath the waistband of his dark jeans. The sight was unnerving, a twisted contrast to the raw, male beauty he exuded.

Kai noticed her stare, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. He reached up, running a hand over the tattoo as if to emphasize it, his fingers brushing against the inked eye. "This," he said, his voice low, reverent, "is the mark of the divine. The proof of my purpose."

He leaned over her, the heat of his body oppressive as his words dripped with fervor. "You will worship me, Faith. And together, we will bring forth the light."

She broke into a silent sobs once again, the weight of his presence pressing down on her, as his lips curled into a twisted smile. The ritual, it seemed, was only just beginning.

The room was suffocatingly quiet, the only sound her ragged breathing and the faint creak of the bed beneath her. The sheets clung to her skin, their texture rough against the thin fabric of her sleeping dress. The wooden walls surrounding her felt oppressive, closing in like a cage.

She flinched as he crawled onto the mattress, the springs groaning under his weight. He moved slowly, deliberately. His hands moved with slow precision, trailing down her arms, his touch almost gentle. His fingertips brushed her collarbone, lingering at the base of her throat. She stiffened, the conflicting mix of fear and something she couldn't name tightening in her chest. "Your body," he said, his voice dropping lower, "is a vessel for divinity."

He let his palm flatten against her stomach, moving in languid strokes, as though savoring the feel of her skin. "But first, it must be sanctified." His hands dipped lower, his touch skimming the hem of her dress

The way his eyes never left her face made her want to squirm, but the cuffs held her firm, trapped beneath his scrutiny.

Kai shifted, his weight pressing the mattress down beside her. His mouth hovered at her ear, the warmth of his breath making her shiver as he whispered, "Your flesh is not your own. It belongs to a greater purpose." His lips grazed the edge of her jaw, his tongue flicking out to taste the flour on her cheek. His fingers slipped beneath the fabric of her dress, brushing along her thighs with a deliberate slowness that made her squirm.

"Don't fight it," he murmured, his voice taking on a sharper edge. "Submission is salvation."

His free hand slid up to cup her face, turning her gaze back to his. Her eyes burned, tears threatening to spill, but the raw intensity in his expression rooted her in place. "Don't look away," he commanded, his tone suddenly sharper. "This moment is sacred."

His fingers lingered at the edge of her underwear, his movements slow, savoring the power he held. He leaned closer, his lips brushing the shell of her ear. "This is not just for me," he murmured, his tone reverent yet cold. "It's for the world. This is for the next messiah."

Her breath hitched, and she finally found her voice, though it trembled. "Y-you don't have to do this," she stammered, trying to push her knees together, but his hands held her thighs firmly apart. "Please... I don't want this."

Kai paused, tilting his head as if her words intrigued him. "Your desires are irrelevant," he replied softly, his grip tightening. "You were chosen, not because you wanted it, but because you were destined."

She shook her head, panic bubbling to the surface. "I'm not... I'm not who you think I am! This is a mistake!"

A faint smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. "There are no mistakes in my plan," he said, his two hands pushed the fabric of her dress higher, baring her completely. The humiliation burned through her, making her squirm beneath him, but his weight pinned her in place. "No," she whispered, her voice barely audible.

"Please, don't."

Kai ignored her, his lips grazing her neck as he muttered, "And the angel said unto her, Fear not, Mary: for thou hast found favor with God." His voice was soft, almost tender, as though he were comforting her. But his actions were anything but.

His hands moved with more purpose now, exploring her body with invasive familiarity. Every touch felt like a violation, his palms rough against her soft breast . She twisted beneath him, her wrists straining against the cuffs that held her. "Get off me!" she screamed, her voice cracking with desperation.

Kai's hand shot to her throat, tightened slightly around her throat, enough to still her struggles without cutting off her breath. His thumb stroked her jawline, almost gently, as his other hand moved with unhurried precision. He slid his fingers lower, his touch grazing the sensitive skin of her clothed center before pressing firmly against the thin fabric still shielding her.

A soft gasp escaping her lips as his finger began pressing slowly and circling over her most vulnerable spot. "You will carry the child of God," he murmured, watching her face as her hips involuntarily shifted. His thumb alternating between soft, teasing motions and firmer pressure, watching her carefully. His lips returned to her skin, marking her with open- mouthed kisses along her neck and shoulder.

"No," she whimpered, her voice cracking as her hips jerked instinctively. "Stop- please-"

He cut her off with a sharp press of his thumb, dragging them firmly along her through the fabric. "Your words mean nothing," he said, his tone calm, dismissive. "This is your purpose. It's written into your flesh."

Her thighs trembled against his hand, the sensation overwhelming despite her desperate attempts to resist it. She bit her lip hard, trying to stifle the sounds rising in her throat, but Kai was relentless. He shifted his weight, settling lower as his hand slipped beneath the fabric, his fingertips brushing against her bare entrance.

The first touch was a deliberate stroke, dragging through her folds with maddening slowness, spreading the dampness he found there. "Your body already prepares itself," he said, his voice a mixture of reverence and control. "You cannot fight His design."

Her head thrashed against the pillow, tears spilling freely now. "I-I don't want this," she choked out, her voice thick with desperation.

"But you need this," he countered smoothly, his fingers finding her most sensitive spot and circling it with excruciating precision. His movements were slow and controlled, alternating between feather-light teasing and firmer, more insistent strokes. Her back arched involuntarily as a jolt of pleasure coursed through her, and her face burned with shame.

"Stop," she gasped, her voice barely a whisper now. Her body trembled beneath him, every nerve alive with sensations she didn't want to feel.

Kai's lips quirked into a faint smile. "You'll thank me later," he said, his voice disturbingly calm. His fingers pressed deeper, exploring her with invasive confidence, stroking and teasing until her hips moved involuntarily against his hand.

"No, no-" she whimpered, trying to twist away, but the cuffs held her firmly in place. Despite herself, she felt the heat building low in her stomach. Her breaths came in short, uneven gasps, and her thighs quivered against his hand. "No," she sobbed, shaking her head as if to deny what her body was feeling.

Kai's smile, dimples deepened, his movements unrelenting. "Your body doesn't lie," he murmured. "Let it guide you to the truth."

Her tears blurred her vision as she twisted beneath him, desperation igniting a brief surge of defiance. Her bound wrists strained against the handcuffs, and her legs kicked, trying to shove him away. "Get off me!" she screamed, the rawness in her voice matching the fury in her chest.

Kai's eyes darkened, his calm demeanor cracking just enough to reveal a flicker of impatience. He caught her flailing leg with one hand, pinning it firmly against the bed as his other hand didn't waver from its sinful exploration. "You fight like a lamb struggling against the altar," he muttered, his tone sharp but still composed. "But you will submit."

"Let me go!" she spat, her voice shaking with anger and humiliation. She twisted her hips violently, desperate to break free, but it only seemed to amuse him.

"Such spirit," he murmured, his lips curling into a sinister smile. "But it's wasted on defiance." Without warning, he plunged a middle finger inside her, the sudden invasion stealing the breath from her lungs.

Her body froze, every muscle locking up as an unbidden moan escaped her lips. She hated the sound the moment it left her, but the sensation was undeniable-sharp, intrusive, and achingly slow as he pushed in deeper, curling his finger just so.

Kai's smirk widened. "There it is," he whispered, his voice dripping with satisfaction. "The moment the anger fades, and the truth begins to seep in."

She bit down on her lip hard, the coppery taste of blood grounding her. Her walls clenched around his finger involuntarily, a shameful heat blooming in her core. "No," she whimpered, her voice trembling as her hips instinctively shifted, trying to escape the overwhelming sensation.

But he didn't let up. Instead, he added a torturous twist to his movements, his finger pressing against a spot that made her vision blur. His pace was maddeningly slow, dragging out every unwilling reaction of her.

Her head shook violently, her hair sticking to her damp cheeks. "I- I hate you," she managed to choke out, but the words lacked conviction. Her body, traitorous and weak, was responding in ways she couldn't control.

Kai laughed softly, the sound low and chilling. "Hate me all you like," he said, his finger withdrawing agonizingly slowly before thrusting back in with a firm motion that made her back arch despite herself. "Your hatred only fuels the fire. It will burn away everything else, leaving nothing but your truth."

Her legs quivered against the mattress, her breaths coming in short, uneven gasps. She clung desperately to her anger, but it was slipping through her fingers like sand. Every calculated curl of his finger, every deep, probing thrust unraveled her, piece by piece.

"No," she sobbed, tears streaming down her face as her hips moved involuntarily, tilting upward into his hand.

"Stop, please..."

Kai leaned in closer, his lips brushing against the corner of her mouth. "You say stop, but your body begs for more," he murmured, his voice soft, almost mocking. His finger twisted inside her, pressing deeper, eliciting a strangled moan from her lips.

Her anger, once blazing, was now flickering, replaced by a growing, shameful ache that she couldn't suppress. Her wrists fell limp against the cuffs as her body trembled beneath him, caught between resistance and reluctant surrender.

Kai's hand stilled, his finger remaining buried within her as if savoring her trembling silence. His gaze swept over her tear-streaked face, the faintest trace of amusement lingering in his dark eyes. "Faith," he said softly, as if her name were a prayer. "Do you understand now? This is not cruelty-it is creation."

Her lips quivered, but she refused to meet his gaze, her cheeks burning with humiliation. "You're insane," she whispered, her voice hoarse.

"Perhaps," he replied, his tone maddeningly calm. "But even the prophets were called mad."

He withdrew his soaked finger slowly, purposefully, drawing a choked gasp from her as the sensation left her aching and empty. She thought he might stop-give her a moment to breathe-but the weight of him shifted, and she felt the rough scrape of his jeans against her thighs as he knelt between her legs.

Her panic reignited as she realized his intent. "Wait, no -no!" she cried, thrashing beneath him. "You can't- I've never—"

Kai tilted his head, his expression softening in a way that only made him seem more unhinged. "I know," he murmured, running a hand down the length of her trembling thigh. "That's what makes this pure."

Her struggles grew frantic, but he was immovable, his hands gripping her hips with bruising force. His touch returned to the apex of her thighs, spreading her gently despite her resistance.

"Shhh," he cooed, his voice eerily tender. "The first time is always a revelation."

She shook her head violently, her tears falling faster. "Please," she begged, her voice breaking. "Don't do this. You don't have to do this."

His response was a low hum, his hands tugging at his belt with practiced ease. The sound of the buckle clinking sent a fresh wave of fear coursing through her, and she kicked out, desperate to put any distance between them.

Kai caught her ankles effortlessly, pressing them back down to the mattress. "Be still," he commanded, his voice carrying an edge of authority that sent a shiver down her spine. "You'll only make this harder on yourself."

She whimpered, her chest rising and falling rapidly as she fought against the inevitable. She felt the warmth of his body against hers, the fabric of her thin dress offering no protection as he pressed closer.

He positioned himself with deliberate care, his hand guiding himself to her entrance. The blunt pressure against her sent a jolt of terror through her, and she shook her head furiously.

"No, no, no-"

Kai exhaled sharply, his grip on her hips was unyielding, his fingers digging into her flesh as he moved slowly, inch by inch, forcing her body to accommodate him.

The pressure increased, the stretch burning as he began to push forward. Her nails dug into her palms, her breath hitching in her throat as pain shot through her. "It hurts," she gasped, her voice trembling. "Stop, please—"

"Pain is part of the sacrifice," Kai muttered, his jaw tightening as he pressed deeper. "But it is fleeting, I promise you. What comes after... is divine."

The stretch was relentless, the burn sharp and undeniable, but he pressed forward without hesitation, his breath hitching as he sank deeper.

"There," he muttered, his voice heavy with satisfaction as he bottomed out, his hips flush against hers. His head tipped back briefly, a low groan rumbling from his chest.

Faith's head turned to the side, her cheek pressing into the damp pillow as she bit down on her lip to muffle her cries. Her body trembled, unused to the intrusion, every nerve alight with a confusing mix of pain and an unbearable fullness.

Kai shifted his hips, pulling back slowly, the drag of his length against her walls both invasive and maddeningly deliberate. The motion made her gasp, her body clenching instinctively around him as if to resist his retreat. He chuckled darkly at her reaction, his movements unhurried as he pushed back in, grinding against her with a pressure that stole the breath from her lungs.

Each thrust was deep, filling her completely, the friction making her toes curl involuntarily. His hips rolled with calculated control, his every motion designed to draw out her reactions, no matter how much she tried to suppress them.

She whimpered as his pace quickened slightly, his movements becoming more fluid. The mattress creaked beneath them, the sound mingling with the labored breaths and muted cries that filled the room. His hands roamed over her body, one sliding up to press against her lower stomach, holding her in place as he drove into her.

"Feel that?" he asked, his voice a low, gravelly whisper. His hand applied just enough pressure to make her hyperaware of the depth of his thrusts, the way he seemed to fill every inch of her. "That's me claiming you. Body and soul."

Her hands grasped in the metal headrest as she writhed beneath him, her resistance faltering with every calculated movement. He whispered into her ear, "For He has made you fearfully and wonderfully... and mine."

Kai's thrusts grew more purposeful, his hips snapping forward with a force that made her body jolt with each impact. The wet sound of their bodies meeting filled the room, amplifying her humiliation. Her breaths came in short, broken gasps, her body unable to ignore the growing heat building low in her stomach.

"No," she whimpered, shaking her head weakly, her voice barely audible.

"Yes," he countered, his teeth grazing her earlobe as his pace quickened.

Faith let out a choked sob, her body arching against him despite her protests. The pleasure was unwanted, overwhelming, and it consumed her completely, her resistance melting under the relentless onslaught of his touch and movements.

Kai's thrusts slowed for a moment, his hips rolling in a careful, torturous grind that made her gasp sharply beneath him. He seemed to savor the sensation, his head tilting back as his eyes fluttered shut. "You're so tight," he murmured, his voice rasping with unrestrained pleasure. His hands slid to her thighs, spreading her further to feel every inch of her. "Like a vessel waiting to be filled."

Faith shuddered at his words, her walls spasming involuntarily around him as his deliberate pace left her breathless. She could feel everything-the heat of him, every pulsating veins of his within her walls, the way he stretched her, the slick friction that sent unbearable jolts of sensation through her core.

Kai's breath hitched, a guttural groan escaping his lips as her body clamped down on him. "Yes," he muttered, his hands gripping her hips harder, pulling her back to meet his slow, deep thrusts.

His hips drawing back until only the tip of him remained inside her, teasing her with a maddening pause before driving forward again. The force made her body jolt, her thighs trembling as the fullness overwhelmed her senses.

"You'll bear my seed," he said, his voice deepening, laced with something almost reverent. He leaned over her, his lips brushing against her ear. "As it is written, 'Be fruitful and multiply; fill the earth and subdue it.' " His tone was steady, like he was reciting holy scripture while sinking into her again.

Faith whimpered as she clung to the metal frame on top of her head. The pain had dulled, replaced by an unwelcome heat that coiled tighter with every thrust. She hated how her body responded, the slickness between her thighs betraying her as he moved.

Kai's breath came faster now, his control fraying as her warmth surrounded him. He muttered under his breath, his words fragmented and fervent. "Though I walk through the valley... oh, the way you f*cking cling to me," he groaned, his hips snapping forward with more urgency. "You resist, but your body welcomes me, doesn't it?"

She shook her head weakly, her voice breaking. "No... I—I don't want this..."

"Your lips lie," he growled, his pace quickening, the sound of their bodies meeting growing louder. His hand slid between them, his fingers brushing against the sensitive bundle of nerves at her center, drawing a sharp gasp from her. "But this... this tells the truth."

The new sensation made her cry out, her body arching involuntarily as his touch sent shockwaves through her. He applied just enough pressure to keep her on edge, his thrusts steady and relentless, building a rhythm that left her unable to think of anything but the way he filled her.

"'The two shall become one flesh,'" he murmured, his voice low and almost gentle, as though he were comforting her. His fingers moved in sync with his thrusts, his hips rolling with practiced ease.

Her mind spinning. The pleasure was undeniable now, crashing over her in waves, leaving her gasping and trembling beneath him.

Kai's movements became desperate, his breath ragged as he pulled back slightly, positioning himself in a way that deepened their connection. With a swift motion, he pushed Faith's legs up onto his shoulders, forcing her hips higher, leaving her completely exposed and vulnerable beneath him. The angle made every inch of him feel more intense—too much. It felt as though he were trying to imprint himself inside of her, claiming her in the most physical way possible.

Faith gasped, the shift in position pushing her closer to the edge. The new angle made every motion of him feel even more invasive, more powerful. Her legs trembled as they rested on his shoulders.

"And the Lord said," Kai muttered, his voice low and intense, almost feverish. "Let there be light..." His thrusts quickened, each one dragging a sharp gasp from Faith as his body pressed harder into hers. "Let there be life..." He slammed into her again, the force making her breath catch in her throat.

Faith's mind was spinning, her whole body was on fire, every part of her reacting against her will, trembling with the force of it.

"Please... no more," she gasped, her voice breaking as she tugged against the cuffs. Eyes in a daze. But the words were meaningless to him. He only smiled, the Bible verse slipping from his lips like a command. "I am the way, the truth, and the life..."

Faith's body bucked beneath him as the pressure inside her built, the unbearable tension in her belly threatening to snap.

Kai's thrusts were now erratic, his hands gripping her thighs tighter, holding her in place with a primal need. His groans were louder now, his movements frantic as he neared the edge. "You will bear my seed," he breathed, his voice thick with lust. "And you will be mine... forever."

With a final, brutal push, Kai buried himself deep inside her, the force of his hot release crashing over her in a moment of complete surrender. Faith's body spasmed beneath him, the shock of his release causing her to climax violently, her walls tightening around him as she shook uncontrollably.

For a long moment, they were locked in place, her legs still resting on his shoulders as he trembled above her. Kai muttered one last verse, his voice barely a whisper, "It is finished..."

The room was still, save for their heavy breathing, as he slowly collapsed against her, his body heavy with the aftermath of their intense union.

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valeriianz · 1 year ago

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I am imagining a Bi-curious Dream. Human AU. Inspired by this post. (but not at all horny or much explicit). this got a lot softer than i intended.

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Dream, who goes by Morpheus, has such a stick up his ass. And he’s always only dated women, and he’s always the one getting dumped. And after this last failed relationship, where Morpheus thought for sure he’d found The One (after a record breaking 5 months), Johanna takes him out to a bar to find him a hookup. A rebound. Morpheus grumbles that he doesn’t need a rebound but goes along with it all the same.

Johanna knows of Morpheus’ bi tendencies. Though Morpheus has only mentioned it in passing that he wouldn’t mind dating a guy “if the right one came along.” They went to undergrad together, where they met and how Jo knows Morpheus has certainly kissed a lot of guys, but the idea of ever actually dating one, let alone sleeping with a man, turns Morpheus all shy and unsure. She’s teased him enough about actually stepping out of his comfort zone and actually exploring his attraction, and figures now is the best time to put that curiosity to the test.

A few drinks in and Johanna spots Hob, an old co-worker and invites him over, much to Morpheus’ chagrin. They yell and get excited seeing one another, couple of extroverts that they are, and quickly exchange pleasantries, catching up. Morpheus is seemingly ignored, and he's making it his life’s mission to drown himself in gin and juice and become one with the sticky bartop.

Dream glares at Hob out of the corner of his eyes, sizing him up, hiding behind his drink. Then Hob turns to face him as Jo introduces him and the smile he throws at Dream nearly knocks him off the stool. Morpheus sits up quickly and has an annoying concern for how his hair and eyeliner look.

“Hello, Morpheus.” And Hob extends a hand and Morpheus takes it awkwardly, an unexpected buzz shooting up his arm from Hob’s tight grip on his cold fingers.

Morpheus nods in greeting, afraid if he opens his mouth his tongue might fall out. He’s always been passively attracted to men, found some cute or handsome, but figured it was a superficial thing, or something like envy. He’d never given conscious thought to what it might be like to share… intimacies with another man. His unconscious mind, however…

Hob looked like someone peeled right out of Morpheus’ darkest, lewdess, most shameful dreams. A man with bushy brows and scruffy beard, an easy smile, and kind, chocolate brown eyes.

Okay, maybe not the most erotic image to grace Morpheus’ vision. But the glint behind Hob’s eyes, the smile that was slowly sharpening to a smirk, and the way his fingers dragged along Morpheus’ skin as their hands finally dropped, filled Morpheus with a sudden urgency to drag this man to the nearest dark corner and let Hob have his way with him.

And later that night, fueled by liquid courage and a very confident Hob leading the way, Morpheus allows himself to be pulled against a warm, broad chest and kissed senseless against the wall of a house he’s never been in before.

Hob licks into Morpheus’ mouth like he’s a man starved and Morpheus is a 5-course meal, moaning loud enough to make Morpheus’ skull vibrate. And all Morpheus can do is try to keep up, working his jaw and swallowing down little whines that he can feel bubbling up. Hob is so vocal and handsy, his fingers trailing up Morpheus’ jaw, carding through his hair, gripping the nape of his neck with a teasing bite to his lip that makes Morpheus’ knees wobble, before one hand moves down to his waist, teasing the edge of his shirt and touching pale skin.

Morpheus, for his part, has his eyes squeezed shut and is almost fighting against the urge to give in. Wondering why this is so hard for him. He’s never been kissed like this before, never been held like a precious thing before, and– he knows he’s getting into his own head. Morpheus feels himself break away with a loud, wet gasp, turning his head and mumbling a half-hearted,

“Wait…”

And, incredibly, Hob does wait. He stands in front of Morpheus and gives him a moment to breathe. To calm down from his own insecurities and nerves. Morpheus feels like Hob is the type of guy to go all the way. The way he’d been flirting with Morpheus at the bar gave him the implication that this wasn’t Hob’s first rodeo. He didn’t boast about experience or prowess, but it was in the way he carried himself, the way he couldn’t stop staring at Morpheus, smiling like he knew he’d end up following Hob home.

And sure enough, as soon as they’d stepped through the threshold of Hob’s home, he’d turned and pinned Morpheus against the nearest surface and kissed him without warning.

“Hey, it’s okay. I got you.” And Hob kisses the corners of Morpheus’ eyes, rubs soothing circles along his pointy hip bones, and murmurs sweetness in a quiet, calm voice. A voice that slowly makes Morpheus unravel, relaxing in Hob’s hold and tentatively bringing his own arms around Hob’s shoulders and kisses him back, properly. Eagerly.

It’s slow now, lips-only and so sweet Morpheus’ lips part on their own accord and a rush of heat crawls up his neck as he makes a desperate, needy noise. He slips his tongue past Hob’s lips to distract himself from that moment of vulnerability, feeling Hob’s grin, tasting his muffled laughter.

It’s so sensual and soft, it makes Morpheus’ head spin. And then Hob presses his body flush to Morpheus’ and they both realize they’re hard.

Morpheus surprises himself by canting his hips forward, curious to feel how Hob is hard, for him. And smiling his own, self-satisfied smile as Hob sucks in a breath and groans, trailing his lips up Morpheus’ jaw and nosing along the underside of his ear. He grinds his own hips with a little more force and it rips a whine from Morpheus’ throat, his head falling back against the wall with a dull thud and he’s squeezing his eyes shut again.

They rut back and forth for a while, Hob’s hot breath hitting Morpheus’ ear with punctuated groans of pleasure and praise that tumbles from his lips. He bites Morpheus’ throat, gentle enough to not leave a mark but hard enough to make Morpheus jolt, getting a hand in Hob’s hair and encouraging him to continue, which he does with chuckling enthusiasm.

Eventually they slow down, only for Hob to come around, take Morpheus by the chin, and wait for him to open his eyes again. Something in them makes Hob growl, leaning in like he can’t help it and biting Morpheus’ lip.

“We don’t have to go all the way, if you don’t want to,” Hob says, breathless and barely holding himself back. “But I’m dying to suck your cock.”

Morpheus flushes again, grateful for the dim lighting in Hob’s living room and nods eagerly.

The next morning, Morpheus is awoken to the smell of coffee and Hob in his kitchen, preparing breakfast. Morpheus walks in with bare feet, bare chest, flannel pajamas that are hanging off his hips for dear life, and is suddenly hungry.

He sneaks up behind Hob, slotting his pelvis against Hob’s ass and winding his arms around his waist like he belongs there. Like they do this all the time and this isn’t a one-night-stand gone awry. Hob chuckles in surprise, dropping what he’s doing to turn around in Morpheus’ hold and be kissed sloppily.

Morpheus came to the bar with Johanna looking for a rebound, just some meaningless sex to help him forget his ex. But the next morning, he had a boyfriend.

#dreamling #dream x hob #ahhh what is this pacing #idk it was an idea that just had to get out #and now it's free #be gone brain worm!#my writing

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jawspinner96 · 10 months ago

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Arthur morgan x fem reader smut

This is very lazily written, I was struck with inspiration and wrote this in one night, so no nitpicking!!! Pls ignore any typos or sentences that sound a little off. This is also my first time posing smut so !!!

*******

You had an easy job, it wasn't fun but the money was pretty good. All you had to do was offer "Deluxe baths" to strangers. It wasn't the career you drempt of as a child, but a couple months ago you were desperate for work and the hotel owner was nice enough to give you this job, not only is it good pay but you also got a free room out of it.

You've encountered your fair share of creeps during your time here, but the hotel owner proved to be good backup.

"Just hollar if you need my help ma'am,"

And he was always there to save you if need be. However, it wasn't often people accepted so a lot of your job was spent lazing about or cleaning.

This day was like any other, business was slow and you were sat in the lobby of the hotel, reading. The door swung open and the bell rung out which caught your attention. You looked up from your book and fixed your eyes on a tall, rugged man, around six foot-ish. His features were hidden behind a weathered had and short untidy beard.

"Ma'am." The man nodded your way and walked up to the front desk.

"Sir." You nodded back and Continued reading, peaking over the pages to look at the man's figure from behind. His unbuttoned shirt paired with a leather vest accentuated his waist and drew your eyes to his large arms. You felt your face grow warmer the longer you stared.

"Let me get a bath, and a room for the night." His voice was deep and husky, yet it flowed smoothly and sounded like music to your ears.

"Alright sir, I've got someone heating the bath up for you right now. That'll be a dollar fifty"

You watched the man make his way upstairs towards the bathroom before closing your book and heading to your own room to prepare. You applied lipstick, cleaned up your eyeliner and sorted your hair.

"Want some company mister ?" You knocked lightly on the door and waited for his response. You weren't expecting him to accept your proposal so you were shocked to hear him accept. You became rather nervous and unsure as to why you were suddenly so scared. You had done this many times before but something about this man was intimidating.

Slowly, you opened the door and made your way in. A faint smell of lavender filled the humid room and hot steam, highlighted by the rays of sun peeking through the foggy window, danced freely throughout the air.

He had his arms resting on each side of the tub, and his eyes closed, which made you feel slightly more at ease. You sat on a stool next to the bath, by his head and began to talk.

"You look like you've had a long day," you purposely kept your voice hushed and soft.

"You have no idea." He smiled contently as you wet your hands and began to scrub his scalp tenderly.

"Well... nothin a hot bath can't fix." His hair was rough in your palms and you could feel the weeks of dirt clinging to each strand. Despite this, the man didn't smell at all, Infact a rather pleasant, musky aroma emitted from his body.

You began to let your hands wander, settling on his shoulders. You palmed his skin attempting to soothe the spots you thought might be most sore. He leaned his head back, letting out a long, pleased sigh. You could feel him becoming less tense from your touch and smiled a little to yourself, proud of your work.

"Damn, that feels good," He muttered under his breath as you began to massage his arms. You marvled at the feeling of his large biceps under your fingers. "I don't remember the last time I was this relaxed."

"If you don't mind me asking, what is it that you do out there?"

He opened and eye and looked right at you. For a moment you were nervous, did you ask something offensive? However, you were far too flustered by his heavy eye contact to care.

"That's something I prefer to keep to myself ma'am." You apologised and Continued to wash the stranger.

Sweat trickled down your forehead as you reached further into the water to scrub his abdomen, then his legs. You looked up from the water for a second, you almost had a heart attack as your eyes met with his. He watched intently, as you massaged his calves and rinsed the bubbles from his leg. Both of your faces were flushed from the heat, and the tension that filled the air.

"I reckon that's clean enough ma'am," He lightly grabbed your hand and held it in between his own, "Thank you very much."

His eyes stared right through your own and you felt your cheeks burning up, though you couldnt really read his expression.

"You're very welcome Mr...."

"Morgan, Arthur morgan."

You beamed a smile "Well, you're very welcome Mr Morgan."

Swiftly, you exited the room with your heart thumping in your chest and butterflies swirling in your stomach.

As you headed back to your room you couldn't shake the image of his face from your mind. His tired, squinting eyes, soft lips. His brows were bushy and unkempt along with his beard, however the scruffy and tired appearance only added to his charm. You weren't sure you'd ever seen someone so handsome before. His nose was crooked but fit so harmoniously on his face along with all his other features.

You recalled what his skin felt like against yours as you sat on your window sil and day dreamed of his muscular frame and chestnut hair.

*******

"Can I interest you in some tea?" Another part of your job was to ensure the happiness of paying customers and to provide the best service you could.

This meant going round and offering tea to those who were staying the night, sometimes you provided them with dinner if you were feeling generous enough to cook a big batch of food that day.

"Sure, come in." Instantly, you recognised the voice coming from the other side of the door. You heart picked up it's pace as you fumbled with the door knob, all while keeping an eye on your tray of tea.

You entered the room to see Arthur sat on the bed, the setting sun resting perfectly on his face. His hat from before was no where to be seen allowing you to see all his features. Messy strands of hair lay perfectly on his face, framing his eyes and Chisled jaw. You couldn't help but admire the sight, a slight blush forming on your cheeks.

"Here ya'are Mr Morgan," You placed a cup of tea on the side table and put the now empty tray under your arm.

"Call me Arthur." He smiled at you as he took a sip of the hot beverage, "I was hopin I'd see you again ma'am."

"Is that right?" A smirk creeped upon your face and you felt those Butterflies from before beginning to awake in your stomach. You playfully responded, "Well i'm glad you enjoyed My services so much Mr Mo- Arthur."

A laugh escaped his nose and he looked down to take another sip of tea.

"Well, I'll be on my way now. Hollar at me if you need anythin'." Nervously, You turned on your heel and made your way to the door before Arthur spoke up again.

"Wait," you stopped in your tracks and turned to face Arthur who was now making his way towards you. The speed of your heart rate picked you thought it'd jump out of your chest and ran away if it could.

Arthur stopped, just meer centimetres away. He towered over you causing a confusing mixture of emotions, your head was spinning.

His eyes scanned your face, your quivering lips and eyes, which darted frantically around the room, avoiding any sort of eye contact. You swallowed as his eyes wandered to your lips. His mouth parted slightly and his breath grew heavier before he began to speak again.

"Am i scaring you, miss?" His voice seemed sweet, filled with concern though you couldn't help but notice sinister undertone in the way he spoke.

You plucked up the courage to look him in his eye before responding, "No.."

You were unsure of your own answer amd he could tell. He smiled slightly at that, hesitantly rasing a hand to your chin, "Would you mind if I.."

His lips parted further as they searched for your own, your eyes fluttering shut as you both made contact. His free hand snaked around your waist as you reached up around his neck, causing you to drop the tea tray on the floor.

He pulled away for a second, gazing into your eyes as his hand held the side of your cheek. Your heart pounded, and you longed to kiss him again. How was this stranger making you feel this way?

You brought him back in for another kiss, this time you were hungry for it and he was too. You moved together rhythmically and passionately. Your bodies backed up aggressively against the bedroom door, slamming it shut.

A gasp left your mouth, as he removed your hands from his neck and pinned them both at either side of your head against the door. The sudden movement made you knees grow weeker and you felt yourself buckling underneath him.

He was strong, you couldn't escape his grip if you tried, not that you wanted to. He raised both your arms above your head and held your wrists in place with one hand.

His free hand began to explore your body, cupping a breast through your blouse. You could feel the smirk on his lips as a slight moan left your mouth.

His hand travelled further down, to your skirt, and he began to lift up the fabric to reach your thigh from underneath.

You could already feel yourself becoming increasingly wetter, and the sensation of his rough palms groping your skin made you only more aroused. His fingers moved further up to your panties and he began to tease your clit through your soaked underwear, forcing a pathetic whine from your lips.

"Damn girl," He laughed a husky laugh mockingly "I've bearly touched you."

Your cunt ached as you squeezed your legs together while he continued to play with your clit, using his thumb to rub painfully slow circles around it.

"F-fuck..." You found yourself unable to say anything in response only growing weaker to his touch.

His fingers hooked against your underwear and slowly he began to pull them down your legs, while he brought your mouth to his for another kiss, his tongue intertwining with yours.

His hand palmed your pussy while the other continued to hold you in place. You squirmed as he slid two fingers into your cunt and began to slowly pump them in and out of you.

Lewd noises filled the room as he fucked you relentlessly with his fingers. Eventually, he let go of your wrists, causing you to collapse against his chest while he continued to play with your cunt. He rested his free hand On the small of your back, keeping you close to him.

You moans grew louder as you found yourself closer to climax. He stopped moving abruptly, which made you cry out a little. He chuckled slightly as you began to grind against his fingers, desperately needing to cum.

"Easy girl..." You buried your head in his chest as he once again began to move his fingers in that same rhythm that had brought you so close to orgasm before.

You eyes rolled back and you squeezed your hands into fists against his body, unsure of what to do with yourself as he continued to pump in and out of you mercilessly.

Eventually the coil in your stomach snapped and you found yourself spasming around his fingers. Your legs shook as you came into the palm of his hand, your vision went white and all comprehansive thoughts in your head had vanished. You moaned his name, loudly, sqeezing your eyes shut as he guided you through your orgasm. He removed his hand from under you skirt and let go of you, causing you you to collapse on the ground.

"Damn, your pathetic," He laughed at your feeble position and you had never felt so vulnerable, humiliated or turned on. "Don't worry girl, we ain't finished."

You panted on the floor as he stood over you. You couldn't believe what had just happened. Arthur had seemed so sweet before, but now it seemed he was getting off on your neediness.

You looked up and watched as he began to unzip his pants and pull out his cock. The size made you a little nervous but you could already feel yourself getting wetter by the second. You rose on your knees and looked up at Arthur. With both hands you grabbed the base of his dick and parted your lips. Your tongue swirled around the tip and you could already taste the precum dripping from him.

"Atta girl," arthur praised your eagerness as you began to move your hands rhythmically up and down his shaft, your tongue focusing on the most sensitive areas.

A satisfied groan left Arthur's mouth as you took him deeper into your mouth. You could feel the veins that ran along his length as your tongue glided along his skin.

You looked up at his face, watching it contort in pleasure. You watched as his mouth hung open, heavy breaths and cuss words escaping from his lips. His brows furrowed when he grew impatient and his hands found their way to the back of your head, gripping strands of hair and shoving his cock deeper down your throat, making you gag.

Quickly, and uncaring of how you felt, Arthur continued to use your throat as a his personal fuck toy. His dick twitched as you choked on his size and struggled to cope with his harsh thrusts.

"Fuck.." Arthur let a low growl as thrusted himself deeply in your mouth one last time. Thick spurts of semen dripped down your throat and from the corners of your mouth. He removed his cock from your mouth, a string of saliva connecting your lips to the tip. With one hand he wiped the cum from your lips and with the other he pulled back you head, forcing you to look at him. "How'd that taste girl?"

You found yourself unable to respond, you weren't to sure what you were even supposed to say. Arthur zipped up his trousers and crouched to your level, taking your chin in-between his index and thumb. You marvled at his reddend cheeks and the sweat that glistend on his forehead, unable to think clearly.

Your lips remained parted as you stared at him. Your cunt ached for him, begging to be filled.

"You look so desperate," he teased. You swallowed your shame and averted your gaze from his.

You could feel yourself becoming wetter just from his words and began leaning in closer, a desperate attempt to beg for more all while your lips were sealed.

"Guess that's too bad," He let go of you abruptly and stood up leading you to awkwardly do the same.

"W-wait.." all you could muster up was a weak stutter. You were honestly offended but weren't sure if you could be. You didnt know this man and he didnt know you. Something that should be intimate wasn't intimate at all. Sure, you'd given him a bath but that was paid for and professional. This? This was no where near the same thing. "I-is that it?"

Arthur laughed. "What? You ain't had enough yet?"

The disappointment was more that noticable on your face. Arthur didn't say anything else, just laughed. He leaned close and reached behind you, opening the door to the hallway.

"Sorry girl, don't wanna overstay your welcome."

And as quickly as you entered, you had been shooed out. Without your tea tray. Your mind was running and you couldn't think, all you could do was make your way back to your room in a daze.

Your hair was a mess and your skin was reddened; still glistening with sweat. you lay on your bed, frustrated. Why didn't you go back and demand him to get the fuck out? Or at least ask for your tray back? Why did you even let him use your body like that in the first place?

Shame washed over you, you were unable to sleep that night. You couldn't help but wonder if he had gone all the way with you, you wouldn't be as pissed off as you were. A small part of you wanted to see him again.

#arthur morgan #red dead redemption 2 #smut #arthur morgan smut #arthur morgan x female reader #red dead redemption two #red dead redemption arthur #writing

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myabsurddreamjournal · 1 year ago

Text

Fate (part 5)

Soldier boy x Fem! Reader

Summary: Reader is a scientist who is forced to work at lab that they keep soldier boy frozen, she talks and cries to him when she is alone, thinking he can't hear her but he hears everything.

....

it was their first week here, the cheap motel room they booked with her money.

the walls were gray and a bit dirty, there was two beds and a small tv, and microwave. It was maybe one of the worst motel rooms in the city but felt like heaven for her after 2 years spent in lab.

For Ben, well he didn't say much, She realized shortly after coming here. Well there were times, where he speaked and even joked, asking her questions or answering her questions. But it was limited. whenever she asked something about his past, or he remembered something, He would suddenly stop talking and stare at wall without blinking, deep in thought. Afraid of triggering his PTSD, she kept her mouth shut even she wanted to listen and talk to him about it.

He was outside in the first day, coming back with his bag looking heavier at evening, saying he paid a visit to old friend. She didnt asked what was in the bag, thinking he would show it sooner or later.

At night they laid side by side in the beds. Almost 1 meter between them. She would think that he will be vanished in the morning, that he was a dream.

but he was there everytime. Looking at her sometimes. Sometimes asleep. She evem felt him adjulsting her blanket one night, Covering her feet. She felt no fear, which was so weird for her, not being afraid of someone who would explode at any second. And it confused her,

somethings about her confused Soldier Boy too.

......

She was applying makeup, a cheap eyeliner and lipstick, that she bought from a store today, after seeing her reflection on the mirror for the first time, she felt a bit self concious around Ben. Her skin were dull from bad diet and lack of sunlight for years. Unlike Ben, who looked perfect even with that hair and beard, or being there for 40 years.

well, he was Soldier Boy after all.

With this thoughts in her mind She applied lipstick on her cheeks too, and liked the effect.

putting down the lipstick, she looked at her hair, It looked lifeless like her skin and grew too long for her taste. She was thinking about cutting it for the last 2 or 3 days.

She decided to do it. picking up the scissor from counter. And started.

.......

After about half and hour, While she was cleaning the sink Soldier Boy knocked the door firmly.

she opened the door:

"-oh, im sorry do you need to use bathroom?" she said looking at him, he was wearing giants t shirt and sweatpants she bought for him from thriftshop, Homelander drink can in his hand. He looked almost normal,

Instead of answering he looked at her face.

Her hair was shorter now, (He never liked on women, thinking it made them look like man.) Her cheeks and lips pink. Eyes brighter.

But it was okay on her, beautiful even. He found himself thinking this often in last days.

But this wasnt like anything he felt before, and it made him so confused, he had affairs with countless women, they literally threw themselves on him. And he was attracted to them. Loved their curves, long hair And their femininity. The way his heart beated fast when they were close to him.

But she...

she was another story.

He didnt really give shit about anyone before, Never felt bad about things he said or did. But he found himself holding back last days. Whenever he was angry around her,

Because he hated the way she jumped in her chair when he raised his voice, angry at news about attacks on the tv.

He never wanted to see her like this.

He wanted to protect her.

He wanted to be close to her (in a different way).

Hide her in his arms from the world that she was so afraid of.

Lost in his thoughts he didnt realize he was staring at her face, and not answering.

-"Ben? are you alright?"

-"Yes doll, i was wondering what were you doing there hiding?"

-"I wasnt hiding, i was cutting my hair."

-"It looks nice"

-"Thank you." she said. Looking at floor.

the silence was awkward, so she smiled at him and got back the cleaning,

After watching her for a while he asked suddenly;

-"You can cut my hair too?"

He wanted her to cut his hair?!, Her heartbeat quickened.

Hearing it, Soldier Boy smiled softly. She blushed harder when she remembered that he was hearing it.

-"y-yes sure i used to cut my brothers hair all the time. You want me to cut it now?"

-"Yes doll."

-"Okay, you need to sit here." she pointed the old chair.

He walked towards it, her heartbeat was getting quicker.

-"calm down doll im not gonna eat you."

-"s-sorry i just still cant believe you are awake."

-"you sure this is the reason?", he winked.

-"yy-eah."

she picked up the towel from counter quickly, wrapping it around his shoulders.

He took a deep breath, shoulders relaxing, this was one of the weird things about her too, Making him calm whenever she touched him.

When she started to brush his hair with her fingers, He couldnt help the sigh that left his lips, Closing eyes. This felt good.

After few seconds, he tried to stiffen his posture, not letting his guard down, but it was impossible.

-"Where is your brother now?" he asked suddenly, eyes still closed.

-"he is gone." she said. He could see sadness taking over her face even his eyes closed.

well he felt like shit now.

-"back there, i felt this." he said then, trying to change the subject. He needed to wipe that sadness off her face

-"felt what Ben?"

-"Your hands, touching my face"

-"I-it was for checking your body temperature y-you know, i-its the easiest wa.-"

-"sure thing doll" he said, winking again, smiling at her who looked like a tomato.

-"im sorry if it made you uncomfortable Ben,"

-"It, didnt."

it was far from uncomfortable actually, like being touched by an angel, made him feel warm even for a few seconds.

but he didnt tell her that.

....

20 mins later their hair was mixed on the floor, dark brown and light brown together.

-"You like it?" she asked, taking off the towel from his shoulders

-"Yes doll," he said patting her head. "You will be the only one to cut my hair from now on" he said, smirking.

She smiled at him, looking at the floor again.

-"O-oh i almost forgot, i bought razors for you, your beard i mean, if you want to shave it of course." She told him as he was about the leave the bathroom

-"how you like it? do you think i should shave it?"

-"y-you look good both ways."

-"you too", he said looking at her hair.

taglist: @deans-spinster-witch@mfnqueen1@ponypickle@butchers-girl@verypostcrown @angelbabyyy99 @6asm0ne @uncle-eggy

notes: Next part too will be about their days in motel (they will get closer!) then we will see butcher and hughie :)

#soldier boy x you #the boys #the boys imagine #jensen ackles imagine #soldier boy x reader #soldier boy #jensen ackles

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ego-osbourne · 5 days ago

Text

Erandur (Revamp)

Happy Holidays… it’s Pa!

Gave him a whole new look and vibe. Really wanted to work towards a softer, fatherly, huggable presence. Had a lot of trial and error with his beard shape but I eventually found a design that I liked. I put a little more chub on him since it’s cold in Skyrim and he needs it. Gave him more muted colors so he might not stand out so harshly, and along with that made his clothes resemble a priest’s moreso than his previous iterations.

I have some thoughts on Mara worship below if you’d like to read! It explains his bracelets and his makeup

(This is pretty much all headcanon)

The brightest colors on his person are for sure the blue beads of the Mara amulet and his prayer bracelets. They’re meant to resemble teardrops, as a common symbol for worshiping Mara is weeping. As a priest, he’s always wearing an amulet of Mara, but it’s been modified with the teardrops to signify that he is a clergyman, not that he’s open for marriage.

As for his bracelets, they act as in-lore rosaries; the beads act as tabs marking a cycle of liturgical prayers. The metal bands signify the start and end of the cycle, and are associated with an introduction and conclusion prayer. The teardrop beads signify a weeping prayer, which is a longer prayer that involves weeping as you wish for the well-being of others (like orphans, parents who have lost children, those who have been disowned by their families, etc. Each teardrop would resemble a different people group to pray for). The brown beads signify regular liturgical prayers and are rest periods between weeping prayers, hence five being in a row for optimal rest time.

So, one cycle of prayer could look like this: 1) introductory prayer, 2) weeping prayer for orphans, 3) a liturgical prayer aimed toward orphans repeated five times, 4) weeping prayer for widows, 5) a different liturgical prayer aimed toward widows repeated five times, 6) a weeping prayer overviewing the previous two weeping prayers, for orphans and widows, 6) a conclusion prayer.

This cycle is done four times (hence the four bracelets), with each weeping prayer focusing on a different people group relating to familial loss (or gain! Weeping prayers can also celebrate joyous occasions). Depending on the priest and their ideals for devotion, these cycles can be completed daily, weekly, monthly, on holidays, or whenever the priest is able.

Along with weeping prayers, Mara priests partake in ritualistic eye smudge. This smudge (essentially eyeliner) is applied so that, when the priest cries, their tears will stain their cheeks, showing that they performed their practice even long after they concluded their prayers.

With all the crying that Mara priests do, hydration is very key to Mara worship, too!

And, I’ve mentioned this before, but as an aside about Erandur’s long hair: Mara priests are very often seen with very long hair. Though it isn’t a mandatory requirement, it is based in a long-standing tradition that Mara priests grow their hair long. This practice comes from the idea that good parents will know how to care for their children’s hair; so, to practice, these parents would grow their hair long just to maintain it and prove that they could do the same for a child. Mara priests follow in this fashion to an extreme, usually—Erandur being one of these priests!

Thanks for listening to my ramblings :]

#erandur #tes #tesblr #tes art #Skyrim #tesv #Dunmer #mara #the dez illusion #my art

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violentdelightsandviolentends · 2 years ago

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Clandestine.

You and Stewy know it’s wrong. So why, pray tell, does it feel so right?

Part Two. Part Three. Part Four.

Pairing - Stewy Hosseini x female Roy reader

Age Rating - 18+

Warnings - Cursing, allusions to sexual content

Word Count - 1.5k

Author's Note - in honour of stewy's beautiful appearance in episode 2, please enjoy this!! hoping and praying we get to see a hell of a lot more of him this season <3

Series Masterlist.

Masterlist. Requests.

You’re bored.

To the outside eye, life as a Roy is a dream. Money, cars, designer clothes, big fancy galas filled to the brim with millionaires. It sounds ideal.

It isn’t. Between family drama, backstabbing and betrayal, and directionless small talk, being the youngest Roy sibling is a stifling job. But someone has to do it. Heavy is the head that wears the crown.

Tonight, you find yourself at another Waystar Royco charity gala. The ballroom downtown sparkles with diamonds, champagne flowing and expensive perfume overwhelming. It’s another mandatory job on your list. Attend, smile, wave, make polite conversation, rinse rich men for their money and leave. Simple.

Or so you thought.

You arrived with Roman and Kendall, the both of them immediately separating and making their way to friends and business partners, leaving you stood alone. Fingertips brush the skin of your back that’s exposed by your dress, sending a shiver down your spine.

You smell him before he enters your eyeline. He smells like vanilla and sandalwood. He smells expensive. Not the faux, gawdy expensive like most men in the room, but genuinely luxurious. His cologne makes you dizzy. You reach out and hold onto the edge of the table in front of you before you lose your balance.

You feel him before you turn around. He’s warm, and broad, and the crisp white material of his dress shirt is pressing into you. You gasp quietly at his boldness, praying that no one sees the youngest Roy so close to a sworn enemy.

Stewy Hosseini.

Kendall’s third oldest friend. Both a rival and an asset to your family. One of the biggest assholes in New York City.

The man you’re hopelessly in love with.

✵ ✵ ·　 ✵ 　　 * · ✵

You honestly hadn’t meant for it to go this far.

Originally, it was sex. Brilliant, mind blowing, earth shattering sex.

Until it wasn’t.

Now, it’s late night phone calls and clandestine meetings and holding hands and apartment hunting and kisses on the forehead. Now, it’s real. It’s become something undeniable.

They’d kill you if they knew.

They’d murder you both. You’d be shunned. Stewy would be dropped and cut from Waystar Royco like he never meant anything in the first place. Your inheritance would be taken away, all Roy privileges revoked.

Basically, it’d be hell. So why do you keep finding yourself considering it?

You’ve never been loved like this. So total, so complete, so all consuming. So unconditional. It’s no secret that the Roy siblings are strangers to love. But not anymore.

Now, you know love. You wake up to love and kiss him on the small patch of skin on his cheek where his beard won’t grow. You dance with love in the kitchen, allowing him to spin you around in your socks, catching you when you slip. You see love across the boardroom, communicating with him silently, having full conversations with just your eyes.

They can deny it all they want, but you know the truth. This is what love is supposed to be. They’re scared of it because it’s unfamiliar. It isn’t material. They’re terrified of love because they can’t touch it, or mould it, or manipulate it. They’re petrified.

You ran into love headfirst, unwittingly. Would you have slept with Stewy that night, well over a year ago, if you’d have known this is how it’d turn out? You’re not sure, honestly. But all you know is that no matter what they say when they inevitably find out, none of it matters. Love is real. And it is astounding.

✵ ✵ ·　 ✵ 　　 * · ✵

“You with me, sweetheart?” he murmurs into your ear, warm breath raising the hairs on your neck.

“Yeah, baby,” you mutter back, attempting to keep a neutral expression on your face. “I’m here.”

“Where did you go, huh?”

His fingers journey down, brushing over your ass. He gives it a squeeze before stroking it up your hip, resting his hand on your waist.

“Just daydreaming,” you reply.

“About what?” he asks teasingly, caressing your skin in gentle motions. Back, forth. Back, forth. He’s making it hard to concentrate.

“You,” you whisper quietly. He hears you loud and clear. “Always you.”

He wants to kiss you. God, he wants to kiss you. He wants to grab your face and smash his lips to yours, consequences be damned. He wants to pick you up and twirl you around and scream “look at the woman I love!”.

Instead, his fingers tighten on your waist. He looks around carefully before leaning in and pressing a gentle kiss to the spot just below your ear. Then, he moves to stand in front of you. To anyone else, it looks like two old friends having a conversation.

“You look so fuckin’ beautiful in that dress,” he tells you, his voice laced with sincerity and admiration. His eyes are raking up and down your frame. The heat of his gaze is making you warm.

“You don’t look so bad yourself, Hosseini,” you tease. That’s an understatement. His suit fits him like a glove, perfectly tailored to all of his curves. It’s all crisp edges and careful lines. He’s wearing the cufflinks you got him for his birthday, the ones engraved with the both of your initials. The letters are small, tucked away on the underside. No one knows they’re there – your little secret.

Stewy winks at you and goes to take a step forward, but a hand on his arm stops him. A gorgeous woman with flowing brown hair and a silk gown appears at his side, smiling at you politely before turning to him.

“There’s a couple of guys over there asking where you are. They want to talk about the Williams deal.”

He gives you a look drenched in apology before allowing himself to be dragged away. He takes all of the warmth with him, leaving you stood in the ballroom, cold and alone.

✵ ✵ ·　 ✵ 　　 * · ✵

You knew he was bringing a date. It’d been a point of discussion the night before.

“We have to keep up appearances, Stewy. It makes sense. I know it doesn’t mean anything, okay. I’m not worried,” you reassure him, carding your hands through his hair. He’s lying with his head in your lap on his couch, eyes closed and brows scrunched. You smooth your thumb over the crease in his forehead, before kissing the spot gently.

“I know. Fuck, I know,” he sighs defeatedly. The idea of having some random supermodel on his arm at the gala is killing him. What he wouldn’t do for it to be you.

“It’s only one night, baby,” you soothe gently. “I’ll come back here afterwards. It’ll be a couple of hours at most. You know people are going to talk if Stewy Hosseini, the most eligible bachelor of New York, turns up without a date.”

He chuckles heartily, and the vibrations settle in your bones.

“One night,” he agrees. “Just one night.”

With that, he sits up, cradling your face in his hands. He kisses you softly, carefully. He’s so tender with you. No one else in the world gets to see him like this. No one else gets to see him vulnerable. He likes it that way. You do too.

✵ ✵ ·　 ✵ 　　 * · ✵

There’s a pull between you and Stewy. It’s like a magnetic force, dragging you together no matter where you are, or what you’re doing. You feel it in the monotonous board meetings. You feel it at the family events he’s reluctantly invited to by Kendall. You feel it now, as you float around the ballroom, praying for the night to be over.

You allow your mind to drift away, dreaming of what awaits you later tonight. You can picture it perfectly. You and Stewy, curled up in bed, his penthouse bedroom illuminated by candlelight. Glasses of wine discarded on the night stand, sheets thrown across the mattress, legs tangled together. Skin pressed to skin, warmth seeping into your bones. Gentle melodies filling the room, the man underneath you humming softly into your ear. This is heaven, you’ll think. Bury us like this, please.

You can feel when his eyes are on you. Heat prickles over your skin, goosebumps rising. It’s become like a sixth sense, this silent communication between you. You catch his gaze and wink, and you swear you see him blush slightly. He runs his tongue over his bottom lip, and nods in the direction of the door. You get the hint, and follow him, trailingly behind subtly.

You reach the hallway and look around, but Stewy is nowhere to be seen. Suddenly, you feel a warm grip grab your hips, pressing you into the wall.

“Been waiting to get my hands on you all night,” he murmurs into your ear lowly.

He’s trailing his fingers up and down your sides. You can feel him, hot and hard behind you, groaning as he bites at your throat. He kisses the hinge of your jaw, and then your cheek. It’s forbidden and it’s sexy and it’s so gentle it makes your knees wobble.

“Come home with me,” he begs. “Let’s blow this off and get out of here.”

The offer is tempting. So, so tempting. But you know people would put the pieces together. Stewy leaves, you leave… suspicions arise. As easy as it would be to just say fuck it and tell everyone, you want to keep this a secret for a little longer. You want to stay in this little bubble of warmth and love and trust a little longer. You want to stay happy a little longer.

“We can’t,” you whine. “They’ll notice.”

“I don’t give a fuck,” he replies. “You shouldn’t either.”

You want to disagree, but the way he’s moved his hand to sit at your throat while pressing himself into you is making it hard to think.

“Live a little, baby,” he teases, nipping at your ear.

“Fine! Fuck, fine. Let’s go before I change my mind.”

He grabs your hand, giddy smile etched on his face. He’s practically running with you to his car, dress flowing in the breeze behind you, heels clacking against the marble floors. You tumble into the backseats, his lips pressed to yours as you make your way home. Home.

✵ ✵ ·　 ✵ 　　 * · ✵

Knock. Knock. Knock.

Your eyes blink open, sunlight streaming through the sheer curtains. You’re resting comfortably on Stewy’s chest, both of his strong arms wrapped around you. You yawn sleepily, wondering what’s awoken you.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

Oh. That. You check the clock on the nightstand, realising that it’s only 7am. On a Saturday. Who’s knocking on the door at 7am on a Saturday morning?

Knock. Knock. Knock.

Fuck, is the noise getting louder? You nudge Stewy carefully, waking him.

“There’s someone banging on your door,” you whisper.

He groans and untangles his legs from yours. He throws on a pair of boxers, and moves to investigate the source of the knocking. You listen intently, curious to know who’s trying to gain Stewy’s attention so determinedly.

The door swings open.

“Ken?” Stewy questions, and you can almost hear the fear in his voice.

“Hey, man. Where the fuck is my sister?”

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chaptersleftunwritten · 5 months ago

Text

Silver & blood taste the same…

Blurb: FBI special agent Amaranthine Delaware has a nose like a blood hound. She can sniff out crime wherever it may lurk, not even the shadows are safe. But what happens when a crazed killer is tearing through towns rampantly and she has no idea who they are and where they're going next?

Pairing: Bill Skarsgård x OC

Part 1 of ?

Warnings: Gore, blood, violent depictions, homicide, dub-con, somnophilia, sexual themes, sexual acts, swearing, mentions of torture, kidnapping, mentions of weaponry, mental health struggles, addiction (alcohol dependency and cocaine) and possibly more throughout. 18+. Read at your own discretion and risk. You have been warned.

October 17th, 2013

The killings started in the early fall here in Indigo Grove. It must have been around September time because all the kids were back in school and that's how our first Jane Doe was discovered. She had been left- no, she had been discarded, in an overgrown area of greenery near a family home. It was the youngest of the children who found her... now two lives are ruined.

I say 'it must have been around September time...' but I know that it was. I remember everything from that first day. Every smell, every sob, every single one of my hairs standing on end as I try not to dry heave onto the ground next to the poor girl laying there on the frozen earth. Her red eyes staring up at me forever piercing and tainting my soul.

I try not to panic at the coffee counter as the barista with smudged eyeliner blinks at me, evidently annoyed at my prolonged silence and stilled movement, "Sorry," I breathe, finally, "How much did you say that was?" she rolls her eyes as she glances back at the till.

"You owe 5.75 today, ma'am."

Ma'am? The word makes my head spin. Her and I are clearly close to being the same age and she is referring to me like I am some 30 year old woman. I would laugh if I weren't so tired.

I stuff my hand into my damp coat pocket and pull out my purse. Loose strands of my rain soaked hair stick to the side of my face. The purse is a faded shade of purple and the faux leather is of a smooth grain. It's about the only thing that has been with me through thick and thin.

I rummage through the compartments of the purse, my cold shaking fingers scraping together the last of the coins that I have. I count them out in my palm before quickly handing them to the cashier.

She looks down at the metal like it is a foreign form of currency before she as well briefly counts them, obviously not trusting my judgement. After slotting them into her till she rewards me with my morning beverage and sweet treat. Nothing better than sugar at 8 in the morning.

The lights in the café are dim as I enter further into the sea of tables, every person appears like a blurred silhouette- or maybe it is just the three glasses of wine from last night catching up to me. My patrol partner, Johnny Franklin, is sitting in a dark far away corner of the café at a small table for two. He is tucked against the wall, his coffee mug in one hand and his toasted sandwich in the other. He orders the same thing every day; Regular coffee with three spoonfuls of sugar and whole fat milk alongside a toasted cheese and tuna melt sandwich and a chocolate chip muffin for dessert.

Johnny is around the same age as my older sister Jocelyn, which I find great comfort in… maybe that’s why I enjoy having him around. He is also a creature of habit, making his days predictable. I always know where he is going to be and when he is going to be there. It’s why I stay so fond of him, he doesn’t surprise me.

“Mornin’ sunshine,” He grumbles lazily, bringing his coffee mug up to his thin pale lips to take a leisurely slurp as I take a seat across from him. A small stubbly beard has grown in on and around his mouth, I notice this as he says, “You seem as chirpy as ever today.” His hoarse voice is dripping with sarcasm and I pray that this won’t be the running theme of the day. Johnny talking nonsense and me with a pounding headache.

“Yeah, yeah, get it out of your system.” I wave my hand, almost dismissing him- or maybe I’m trying to swat him away like he is a fly. He is always getting all twisted up in other peoples shit.

“You look like shit, kid.” The now empty coffee mug comes down onto the cheap wooden table, a light clatter of the porcelain following close after, “I’m in two minds of even telling you what I got paged this mornin’…”

And there it is. That horrid feeling of dread, doubt, despair, anger, hurt, anxiety- my body knows what he is going to say before he has to say it. The way my stomach twists into painful tight knots and how my breath is now lodged, undoubtably stuck in my throat. The world around me pivots on a sideways axel and I’m struggling to make it stop.

“Tell me.” I am strangled as the words come out, almost too quiet for myself to hear. Do I want to know? Can I handle what Johnny is going to tell me? The answer is no, probably not. But this is the work, and I owe it to those girls to catch this sick fuck-

Johnny’s beady brown eyes examine my features. It takes him a moment but he sucks in a deep breath and I see his bushy eyebrows knit together, his mouth also downturning distastefully, “Another body was found early hours this mornin’, around 3am. She has thought to have been out there for at least two weeks they said.”

The sourness in my mouth intensifies. Two weeks… two whole weeks. Evidence could be lost, the crime scene tampered with, decomposition.. animals. The thought alone sickens me to my stomach. How could she have been missed for that long?

“Who found her?” I ask after a long pause, my mind is buzzing with fear. That’s the thing about this line of work, people expect you to have no feeling- but I feel everything.

Johnny takes a bite of his sandwich and grease pools at the corners of his mouth making me cringe. I want to scream at him for even being able to stomach anything after telling me that information. He chews for an agonisingly long time before he finally grumbles, “A trucker on the highway nearly swerved off the road- agents at the scene think she must have still been alive after the attack and tried to crawl to the nearest road to wave down some help but her wounds were fatal. She died as she reached the highway.” Another bite. Another bite of that disgusting fucking sandwich.

My nostrils flare as I suck in a deep aggravated breath, standing up from the table the chair legs scrape along the floor, the screech punctuates my exit and I am gone before Johnny even has the time to comprehend what’s happening.

Dark clouds swell the sky and the chilly air nips and whips at my cheeks. The rain conjures a hellish dance upon my head as it pelts from the heavens above, drenching my hair further. My chest rises and falls with every breath I struggle to pull into my lungs and I find myself thinking about him.

He keeps me awake every night. I dream about him, I write about him- I wonder, what does he eat? What does his morning routine look like? What does he hate? What does he look like? His eyes, his lips, his smile… is it nice? Is it a nice smile, a warm smile, a welcoming smile? What does he smell like?

He consumes my life, he controls my every thought.

I hate it. I hate him.

It feels personal. Every murder… every life that he takes. And I know that it shouldn’t, but it does.

It fucking does.

Blue lights flood my vision, captivating the world around me in an inescapable light. The light in which we should all feel safe in, but I don’t. I never have.

The yellow and black police tape is lifted for me as I enter through to the official crime scene. The highway has been closed off and traffic is being redirected elsewhere, creating this ungodly eerie silence. I want noise, I need the noise… it’s too quiet.

“Special agent Delaware, this is Milo Reed, our truck driver.” My supervisor, Harold Hawkins, approaches me from a nearby vehicle. The man stood to his left is as pale as chalk, his eyes wide and dark with purple circles cladding the skin beneath his sockets.

My steps are steady and slow as I inch closer to the pair, deciding it may not be best to go in for a handshake in this moment, “Milo, my name is Amaranthine and I’m the lead detective on this case. My partner will soon be here to take care of you.” My own voice echoes inside of my mind. I can’t imagine how this man may be feeling. All he manages to muster in response is a nod and then he is shuffling off in another direction, his actions meek and stilted.

My next walk feels like one to the gallows, but I find comfort in one thing. I know what his mark is, I know what he has left behind that’ll tie this girl to the last and to the one before her. The butterfly. He irons it into their skin. Always in a different area, but always just as deep and just as brutal. Taking something so beautiful and blackening it with evil…

That’s how he got his name from the media.

The butterfly killer.

It headlined in every newspaper a month back, and it still continues to steal the spotlight today. Front page, big and bold for all to see. I bet he is basking in the glory of all of this…

It makes my stomach churn.

As I advance further into the scene I spot an unmissable tanglement of red hair on the ground. The colour is admirable.. it is absolutely gorgeous. Or so I thought, that is until I realise that it’s not at all the colour of the victims hair- it is her blood.

I fight the urge to vomit, swallowing down whatever salvia I have in a desperate attempt to maintain my composure- especially in front of my male colleagues.

“Have you been briefed?” One of them ask and I nod my head, remaining silent, “It was him, she has been branded on her right shoulder. Her wounds, however, are of different technique. He was angrier this time and he used some sort of screwdriver.” His words are so cool it leaves my skin feeling icy cold, like the decaying corpse in front of us, “She has been photographed but with the recent weather conditions, evidence might be tricky to recover. We will be lucky if we identify any from her, never mind any from him.”

I can feel a slow build in my chest, a rising fire of complete rage. When will this end? Will he ever be satisfied? And will I ever catch him?

“Try your best.” I plea and my eyes flicker from the ground to the flashing lights that are now intensifying my headache and then back to the body. The attending agent has left my side and I struggle to grasp the reality of anything around me.

I crouch down to further investigate our victim. She tried to fight. She tried to flee- she wanted to live so desperately that she crawled 10 metres from her drop off point before her lungs finally filled with blood.

She died alone.

I watch as they carefully remove her body from the scene and into the back of an ambulance, taking her back to the lab where hopefully we will be able to identify her.

She will have a family somewhere, and they are waiting on her coming home.

“You can’t smoke in here!” I am four vodka cokes deep in the ‘Hell Gate’ bar just off of the highway and maybe I’m feeling brave and maybe the buzzing red lamp above my head has officially drove me insane but I have had my eyes on this delicious stranger since I arrived and I’ll be damned if I leave here without him. I know that he has noticed me and I know smoking indoors is illegal, and it has been for over 10 years, but there’s just something about watching him do it that makes my insides flutter.

The music in the bar is deafening but it’s pretty vacant of people, even the bartender keeps disappearing elsewhere. The man spares me a quick look, taking one long last drag of his cigarette before he is stumping it out into a nearby ashtray. His face slowly turns towards mine and just like that, he exhales the large cloud of cancerous smoke right into my face.

“What you gonna do about it?” His gravelly deep voice challenges me and my thighs clench together at the mere sight of him. Plump pink lips, stunning round eyes, a strong nose and not to mention the gorgeous brown hair. His tall frame slouched leisurely over the bar has my mind reeling with sin.

I just want to forget. Just for one night.

My front teeth toy with my bottom lip, nibbling on the cushiony skin as I try my hardest to force my drunken brain to think of a quip and sultry response but all I seem to muster is a pathetic, “Steal your lighter.”

He hadn’t noticed but around three seconds ago I had pinched his lighter from on top of the bar and secured in my pocket.

A smugness braces his face, pulling his lips up just ever so slightly at the corners, “What’s your name, angel?” I can tell that I’ve caught his attention by the way his body leans into mine and the total thirst that has consumed his eyes. He wants me.

“You first.” I counter, proud of my own confidence. It’s not every day I manage to pluck up the balls to talk to guys and I would like to thank my liquid courage for tonight. Wherever it may lead.

“Bill, but you can call me whatever you want.” I expect to see a hand stuck out in front of me, but I don’t. He keeps himself to himself, and I quietly admire that. It’s sort of gentlemanly…

I take a short but sweet sip of my drink, letting the alcohol sere my throat on the way down before I chirp, “Amaranthine, but my friends call me Amara.”

His eyebrows perk up momentarily on his forehead before they proceed to faintly knit together in what I assume is confusion, “Are we friends, Amaranthine?”

I bite rabidly at the inside of my cheek, pinching the flesh to stop a shit eating grin from taking over my entire face. There is a short pause as I pretend to think of an ‘honest’ answer, “We can be. If you wanna?” My blood feels hot as scolding iron as it flows through my body, flushing my face for a brief moment.

“Hmm,” Bill’s pink tongue darts from his mouth to swipe over his bottom lip, his teeth gentle nipping the skin, “I don’t know… what do your friends usually say about you?” He is closer to me now and I can feel my breathing start to become a bit ragged. It takes every ounce of restraint I have to not press my lips to his. They are all I can focus on. I wonder what he tastes like.

“My friends would tell you to run for the hills…” In order to regain composure I play with the metal lighter that belongs to him, flicking the cap and watching as the flame would erupt from within. On the side there is a word that is engraved… Love.

It takes mere seconds before Bill is pulling my wrist toward him with force, but not enough to hurt me, only enough to frighten me. And it does, and the gasp that leaves my mouth is borderline erotic and makes my cheeks fervent. He is gentle to take the lighter from my loose grip, placing it into his dark jean pocket and then returning his attention back to my face.

“I think this could work… this ‘friend’ thing.” His grip remains tight around my wrist, “Only thing is.. I don’t think friends fuck their friends, do they, Amara?” Somewhere along the way Bill has stood up from his barstool and he is now towering over me. He must be at least 6ft 2 and looking up at him from my seated position is making my mind spin uncontrollably. I thought I was attracted to him before but now… I want him to take me right here, right now in the middle of this dive bar.

“Friends sometimes do that.” I say meekly as I swallow thickly, all the saliva in my mouth has mysteriously disappeared and maybe it was the alcohol or maybe this is just what he does to me. The greed grows between my thighs and as I'm staring into his eyes I can see the hunger growing within him too- infatuation blowing his pupils to the size of bullet holes.

He yanks me to my feet, his face is uncompromising and I am on fire with anticipation, "Your place or mine?" His lips brush the shell of my ear and I feel electricity race down every vertebrae in my spine, making my legs unsteady. His voice is almost a moan and his tone is low and yet I am willing to totally submit to his every beckon and command.

"Mine..." I feel like I can't breathe, "I.. I don't have a ride." My quavering voice declares my evident embarrassment and Bill tucks some loose strands of my wind stricken hair behind my ear.

"It really is your lucky day." Bill winks at me, a semblance of a smile gently appearing onto his face and his long arm snakes around my waist, guiding me toward the bar exit.

"Oh- I haven't paid!" I exclaim in a state of panic.

"Shhh-" Fuck. His voice is like a lullaby, "I know the owner, don't stress." It was at that moment that I realised, in my inebriated state, that I would believe every word this man said.

Sober Amara would never have given her home address to a total stranger- but drunk and horny Amara just did. We are always warned as children- don’t speak to that strange looking man, don’t go near that lady, stay away from them and so on.. but if we lived up to those rules- to that fear, we would never live. We would be so alone..

I juggle my keys, struggling to control the adrenaline that is coursing through my veins, causing my hands to tremble. I manage to slot the key into the lock and jimmy it open- I really have to get that looked at.

I shoulder barge my way inside, losing my balance as I do and I expect to see the floor coming up to meet my face- but instead I feel Bill’s colossal hands gripping my waist firmly, holding me restrained in the air. Shock roots us both to the spot and I can feel something brewing rapidly between us.

My apartment is small, but it’s cozy and it’s home. I keep it clean for the most part, overall the only mess visible is the case files I’ve left on my desk and the map that’s strung up on my wall. To the average person, like Bill, I’ll probably look crazy. Luckily for me, that’s not where his attention is.

“I'm waiting for your permission to let me have my way with you.”

The door has been kicked shut and I can hear the rhythm of my own heart pounding in my ears. I’m starting to feel a bit lightheaded, like I am levitating above the ground. He knows just what to say, he knows how to look at me in just the right way to make my mind turn to mush- it’s almost like he knows me. Have we been here before?

“I’m gonna need your help to get my clothes off…” my hands dance up to behind his neck, cradling it gently whilst pulling him closer to me. My fingers card through his luscious dark hair, tugging the roots playfully which causes a groan to erupt from his lips.

Bill's large hands come to fondle with my chest, his fingers struggling with the buttons of my blouse. His breathing hitches and with a leap of faith and a lewd huff he rips the seams apart. My mouth falls agape as I watch the buttons fly across every square inch of the room. Some of them I'll never be able to find again...

His lips are on mine before I have time to form any sort of coherent thought and the warmth of his skin is enough to heat my entire body for days. My lips part, allowing his wet tongue to slip inside of my mouth and I moan out at the contact. He tastes like alcohol and cigarettes with the mildest touch of mint- just what I expected. Abruptly he pulls away and I whine with the need to have him near again, "I'm going to take good care of you, I promise. I just wanna enjoy the view. It's not everyday I get to fuck someone as pretty as you." His voice has dropped an octave or two lower and the simple task of breathing becomes obscenely hard in that moment and I battle the urge to pounce on top of him right there and then. He slides my ripped blouse down my arms, letting it fall to the hardwood floor below my feet. He steps further away, urging me with his eyes to continue undressing.

"You don't have to be gentle with me, I won't break..." I offer him a smirk and my feet move toward him with gentle strides and I notice Bill's eyes fluttering to and from my chest. My bra is boring but it's black- and black always leaves an impression no matter what it is. Plus, he seems to like the colour, considering he is dressed from head to toe in it, "You can do whatever you want with me."

The air vibrates between us, "What do you want to do to me, Bill?" My eyes flutter innocently up at his stocky frame and he pulls a quick breath into his lungs through his teeth.

"You want me to tell you, or do you want me to show you?" He is walking towards me now, an impure domineering twinkle gracing his eyes. He backs my steps up until I feel the wall crash into my spine and his long muscular arms cage me to the spot, "Are you afraid?" His face is craned down into my neck now, I can feel his breath on my skin and it settles just above my main artery that I can feel thumping.

I shake my head.

"You got any neck ties laying around here?" He asks and I nod in response.

"Top drawer, in the bedroom." I nod toward the dark hallway that connects my living room to all the other rooms in the house. He glances at it before allowing me to move from the wall, his hand slapping my ass hard.

"C'mon then, lets go get them." I giggle a bit as I run toward the bedroom, Bill following closely behind me, "And take the rest of those clothes off before I get there- or you'll regret it."

Excitement pricks at my heart and I assume he is talking about my suit pants and my shoes, and so I am happy to oblige as soon as I pass through the doorway into my bedroom. It's dark in there- pitch black, so I scramble around for the lamp on my bedside dresser, stumbling over clothes that have been left on the floor and more case files that really should be getting organised but aren't. My shoes are first to go, kicked beneath the bed and my pants are peeled down my legs. The rain had caught us on the way in so my skin is a bit damp and cold, making the fabric cling to my skin like it has been glued down.

I pull open my drawer, ignoring the vibrator that I usually hide in there I retrieve multiple neck ties- just in case he wants more than one and then I sit on the edge of the bed, watching the open door as Bill’s sturdy frame emerge's from the darkness of the hallway. Like a hunter stalking its prey.

"Are these okay?" I hold out the palms of my hands, the colourful neck ties splayed flat across them as I present them to Bill like a knight receiving his sword.

Bill's hands find his knees as he bends down to my line of vision, his face mere inches from mine, It’s almost mocking and I feel like I am about to get a telling off for bad behaviour, "I'm going to fucking ruin you, sweetie." His lips pinch his cheeks as he smirks devilishly, his hands pushing me harshly down onto the mattress- knocking the air out of my lungs.

“Wrists.” He demands and I clasp my hands together in the air without a second thought, my drunkenness blinding every ounce of my reasoning. Bill climbs on top of me, his knees at either side of my torso and he hovers there as he skilfully knots and binds my wrists tightly together. He has done this before...

“Please take your clothes off,” I beg, my voice coming out as a sweltering breathy pant and after he had finished securing my wrists to the bed frame he stands from the bed, my body moving with the shift in weight.

“You’re so polite, so fucking cute- you know what good girls get?” He perks an eyebrow, his hands gripping the hem of his black t-shirt as he pulls it up and over his head. The sight of his abdominal muscles tensing and contorting to the movement of his body has my mind sobering up slightly. I want that image permanently engraved in my mind, “They get anything that they want, sweet cheeks.”

He moves onto his jeans next and even just watching him unbuckle his leather belt has my pussy aching for more. I can’t stop admiring his body- he is so lean and strong, chiselled by the Greek gods themselves.

“Like what you see?” His voice takes the reins of every one of my thoughts and I nod my head, my thighs impatiently rubbing together desperate to get some sort of release, “Awww, is she pulsing?” Up until this moment I'd never been provided the chance to experiment this much in the bedroom, my one night stands were always so vanilla and borderline unsatisfactory- so to have my hands tied to the bed and someone as hot as Bill mocking my arousal... it's all so new. I love it.

"Touch me." It wasn't supposed to come out as a command, but it does and the dimple that screws itself into Bill's cheek leaves my wrists tensing against their restraints.

Bill's eyes settle between my legs, his tongue swiping out to briefly coat his swollen lips in momentary shine as he prowls up the mattress and only then do I see how stiff he is in his briefs- I just want him inside me.

Despite my state of tenseness Bill separates my legs with ease, a small 'fuck' leaving his throat as he drinks in the sight of my pantie class core, "Wanna make you scream..." Two of his slender fingers tactically stroke over the slick covered fabric that sticks to my puffy slit, teasing me softly as he applies just the right amount of pressure to my stimulated clit, "You're so wet already and I've barely touched you-" An egotistical hum swims through his deep voice, "My fingers are covered in you already."

I can't help the mewl that leaves my mouth as I watch Bill foam at the sight of me. No one's made me feel like this before, this wanted- this desired. Bill gasps as his fingers hook beneath the fabric of my underwear and it is shortly followed by a profane groan as his fingertips tease my needy entrance, "You're killin' me, baby." It makes my head whizz with exhilaration as Bill tears the poor garment of clothing from my body, slightly burning my skin with the friction as he does.

Goosebumps arise on my skin at the expose to such cool air, making me shiver where I lay. Bill's head of messy brown locks dip between my spread thighs, pressing trails of kisses from my kneecaps up to my bare centre where his tongue strokes a long slow strip through my glistening folds. His lips make a 'pop' noise as he sucks my sensitive cluster of nerves roughly , pulling away only to dive right back in again. And again...

"A..ah!" My back curves up from the comfortable springs beneath me but Bill continues to secure my hips in place, the grip his fingertips have on me is bruising as the room is filled with nothing but the lewd noise of wet sloppy slurping and pleasure pained moans.

"She's dripping," He coo's cutely, his voice is a muffled hum against my pussy and the vibrations cause my legs to quiver as they cage Bill's face between them. After one final stroke of his muscular tongue Bill spits on my folds before rising to steady himself on his knees, "Think you're ready for my cock now, babe?" His huge hand lads a sore slap against my heat and I cry out at the sting, tugging harshly on my bounds. It hurts but it also feels so fucking good...

"Yes! Yes, please. I'm ready... just want you to fuck me, Bill, please." I say with so much agony that it is comedic.

Two of his slim fingers push inside of me, filling and spreading me out as Bill finally free's his shaft from his underwear. His hand pumps at his length a few times, his thumb gently spreading the pre-cum from his tip to the rest of his thick rod, "Say, 'pretty please' and I'll think about it." His smile is more intoxicating than any of the alcohol that I've consumed and I'm growing to detest the affect he has on my body.

He carries on touching himself, his eyes hooding as he throws his head back in total bliss, "Pretty please." The words are almost a sob as I wiggle my hips, trying to meet him halfway. He bites his bottom lip, clearly satisfied with my pleading he taps his dick a few times against my slit only to shock me at the very last second as he pushes himself all the way inside. The stretch is glorious and my eyes are rolling to the back of my head at the sensation of him filling every inch of me.

"So warm- you're squeezing me so tight." It's now Bill's turn to moan as he bottoms out of my pulsating cunt and plunges himself back in again, "Keep this act up and I'll end up cumming before you do, sweetheart." The image of him coating my walls with his hot spunk makes me want to scream.

His thrusts quicken and with more ferocity, the room is captivated by the loud sounds of wet skin slapping skin and the perverted moans from both Bill and I.

"Don't stop! Ah.. fuck! Please don't stop!" My screams reverberate in my chest, bouncing off of every wall and playing back at us. It's evident that Bill has no intentions of slowing down and I struggle to keep my eyes open long enough to watch the perfect contour of his parted lips widen and how his dark eyebrows pinch together in pure delight.

He pulls out of me and grabs my hips. He flips me around to my stomach before pulling my ass up into the air where he spanks the skin brutishly and I endure the red marks that tingle their way up to the surface. Forcing my face down into the pillows he holds my head there as he propels himself back inside of me and the scream that leaves my mouth leaves me drooling all over my pillowcases. My mouth is unable to close from the constant moans exiting past my lips.

"I knew you were a slut, look at you-" He slaps my ass cheek again, punctuating his words, "Taking my cock so well. Am I hitting that sweet spot, baby?" I try to speak, I try to communicate with him but I can't. It's all too intense, "Right there? Yeah, Ugh, fuck yeah!" Bill's moans bless my ears and I feel a knot forming in the pit of my stomach, my high is hurdling toward me with every thrust his thick cock gives.

"Want you to cream all over me, can you do that?" I nod into the pillow, having given up on my words and Bill releases a noise that is somewhere between an hum of approval and a moan, "So good for me, so fucking good.." Maybe I hadn't noticed before now, but the way he praises me only increases the fire consuming my insides and I don't know if it's because of how attracted I am to Bill or just a newly discovered kink of mine but whatever it is it's working.

I struggle to breathe against the fabric of the pillow and my eyes pinch closed alongside every muscle in my body tensing as my howling orgasm washes over me. My legs are a shaking mess and I swear I pass out for a moment or so because Bill is the only thing keeping me kneeling upright as he pounds into me from behind- chasing his own release that soon follows closely after mine...

And we are left both a panting muddle of sweaty flesh in a room stinking of nasty sex.

taglist: @colorful-white-ideas

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