#Wall to wall carpet price
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#Wall to wall carpet in dubai#Wall to wall carpet price#Wall to wall carpet dubai#Wall to wall carpet
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Best Wall to Carpet Service provider in Dubai
Dubai Flooring online company offer Wall-to-wall carpet service in Dubai typically refers to the process of installing wall-to-wall carpets in a room, shop or stair area. This service is usually provided by carpet retailers or specialized carpet installation companies. Here's a general overview of what you can expect from a wall-to-wall carpet service: for more info visit website- https://www.dubaiflooringonline.com/wall-to-wall-carpets.php
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Thinking 'bout Price and Nik getting their first married quarters after tying the knot. On march in, Nik brings a bottle of champagne and Price is worried he'll be sorely disappointed by what he finds. He isn't. In fact, Nik says it's the best place he's ever lived, 'cause it's got a John Price in it. They could have given them a six by six room with a toilet in the corner and he would've still been the happiest man on the planet.
#cod nikolai#captain john price#nikprice#my uncle said his first MQs didn't even have carpet or central heating#and my aunt tripped on the rug and put her hand through the wall#he said they charged him for it on march out lmao#fuckin MOD cunts xD#that bottle of moët gonna be more expensive than every appliance in the kitchen
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2007-core nostalgia extravaganza
Quick PSA: someone on Facebook is apparently impersonating me using an account called "McMansion Hell 2.0" -- If you see it, please report! Thanks!
Howdy folks! I hope if you were born between 1995 and 2001 you're ready for some indelible pre-recession vibes because I think this entire house, including the photos have not been touched since that time.
This Wake County, NC house, built in 2007, currently boasts a price tag of 1.7 million smackaroos. Its buxom 4 bedrooms and 4.5 baths brings the total size to a completely reasonable and not at all housing-bubble-spurred 5,000 square feet.
I know everyone (at least on TikTok) thinks 2007 and goes immediately to the Tuscan theming trend that was super popular at the time (along with lots of other pseudo-euro looks, e.g. "french country" "tudor" etc). In reality, a lot of decor wasn't particularly themed at all but more "transitional" which is to say, neither contemporary nor super traditional. This can be pulled off (in fact, it's where the old-school Joanna Gaines excelled) but it's usually, well, bland. Overwhelmingly neutral. Still, these interiors stir up fond memories of the last few months before mommy was on the phone with the bank crying.
I think I've seen these red/navy/beige rugs in literally every mid-2000s time capsule house. I want to know where they came from first and how they came to be everywhere. My mom got one from Kirkland's Home back in the day. I guess the 2010s equivalent would be those fake distressed overdyed rugs.
I hate the kitchen bench trend. Literally the most uncomfortable seating imaginable for the house's most sociable room. You are not at a 19th century soda fountain!!! You are a salesforce employee in Ohio!!!
You could take every window treatment in this house and create a sampler. A field guide to dust traps.
Before I demanded privacy, my parents had a completely beige spare bedroom. Truly random stuff on the walls. An oversized Monet poster they should have kept tbh. Also putting the rug on the beige carpet here is diabolical.
FYI the term "Global Village Coffeehouse" originates with the design historian Evan Collins whose work with the Consumer Aesthetics Research Institute!!!!
This photo smells like a Yankee Candle.
Ok, now onto the last usable photo in the set:
No but WHY is the house a different COLOR??????? WHAT?????
Alright, I hope you enjoyed this special trip down memory lane! Happy (American) Labor Day Weekend! (Don't forget that labor is entitled to all it creates!)
If you like this post and want more like it, support McMansion Hell on Patreon for as little as $1/month for access to great bonus content including a discord server, extra posts, and livestreams.
Not into recurring payments? Try the tip jar! Student loans just started back up!
#architecture#design#mcmansion#mcmansions#ugly houses#interior design#mcmansion hell#bad architecture#2000s
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Kajaria Tiles: Adding Elegance to Your House
The article describes the various Kajaria tiles available in the market, including Vitrified, Digital, and Wall tiles for bathrooms, kitchens, living rooms, dining rooms, and offices. The article also provides information about the durability, strength, and aesthetic appeal of Kajaria tiles and answers frequently asked questions about the brand, including its scratch-proof and stain-resistant qualities and the price range of its products. https://www.comaron.com/blog/kajaria-tiles-price
#outdoor floor tiles#carpet tile#grey tiles#wood look tile#wooden floor tiles#kajaria tiles price#ceramic tile flooring#shower floor tile#quarry tiles#home tiles#rubber floor tiles#foam tiles#flor tiles#kitchen floor#marble floor tiles#stick on wall tiles
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god Ghost waking up one night to find cat shifter!reader asleep and cuddling with him as a human
When Gaz, Soap, and Price first started talking about how you shifted back while cuddling, Ghost hated the bubble of discomfort in his belly. Because he was stubborn--as stubborn as you, if not more so. He'd locked you out of his room for a reason, because there was no way in hell you were getting anything more than casual decency from him after that prank you pulled with the mice (and later, suffocating him in his sleep by sitting on his face). But hell--deep down, listening to the boys brag, he wanted to that, too.
He didn't say anything to them, or even you, of course. All he did was start unlocking his bedroom door, hoping you'd come a-knocking. He'd heard you scratching at night, anyhow, so he assumed you'd come back like you always did. And it worked: only two more days, after you'd spent more time with Soap and Gaz, and you went to try the door.
Ghost was silent as it creaked open, eyes closed but ears perked at the sound. He could hear your muffled footsteps on carpet before feeling the added, albeit slight, weight on the bed--then the touch of warm fur brushing against his skin as you settled in the crook of his neck.
"Suffocate me again, and I'm kickin' you out," he muttered, causing you to jump in surprise and snort in his face. But you still kneaded biscuits on his pillow, claws flexing in and out to help you get comfy. Eyes practically glowing in the dark while you glared yet slow blinked; the two being equal representatives of your attitude towards him.
But it's the same with Ghost, isn't it?
The glares--mixed in with trust. Him yelling at you; you hissing back. But taking care of you in his own way--like carrying you down from the attic when you were sick. Making time to bond with you (albeit out of sight from the other boys). Giving you baths to clean your fur. Ramming his hand through a damn wall.
You close your eyes again, this time to sleep, and wedge your head into the crook of his neck. Purring.
There's a good girl.
It's unspoken, but you imagine him saying it as he sighs, all the tension dissipating from his chest. He reaches over to give you a few scratches, first on the top of your head, then under your chin. But he doesn't quite pull you close. Doesn't tuck you into his side, or wrap an arm around you. Not yet. He doesn't want to make you stay; he wants to give you freedom. He wants you to choose.
And choose you do.
Come morning, your very human limbs are splayed out over his torso, taking up what little space had been left in the bed. Your mouth is slightly open as you drool onto his black sleeping shirt, but he doesn't mind. On the other hand, he's too busy keeping his eyes off you, and on the ceiling.
"... We should probably get you some clothes, huh?"
#cod#call of duty#fanfic#drabble#x reader#cat shifter au#reader insert#task force 141#141#tf 141 x reader#cod 141#tf 141#141 x reader#simon ghost riley x reader#simon riley#simon ghost x reader#simon riley x reader#simon ghost riley#ghost x reader#ghost cod#ghost#kyle gaz garrick x reader#kyle gaz garrick#gaz x reader#gaz#captain john price#john price#captain price#price#price x reader
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now im thinking about how you're technically johnny's wife of convenience but now also simon's girlfriend.
like maybe you're crazy but you do remember johnny telling you that you can see other people, just don't bring them home. but every time you try to, simon is there.
something always suspiciously happens when you're out, conveniently forcing you to cut the date short, and the one that picks you up is simon. he doesn't even let you walk yourself out either. he'll already be at your table, putting your phone and wallet in the back pocket of his jeans. and what's worse, with the one guy who didn't mind, the one who had asked for a raincheck, simon told him that you have a husband at home waiting for them with a warm dinner.
he chuckles under his breath at the guy's reaction— ashen face, wide eyes, and gaping mouth. "don't know what ya saw in tha' bloke anyway. he didn't even cover the bill." because simon stared at him until he skittered out the front door without a backward glance.
and then their dates. they're supposed to be a couple; you're just a front, so why do they keep taking you with them as a third wheel. is it an exhibitionist kink? because that's what it feels like every time they're together. it's all sloppy kisses, grabby hands and you swear that if you hadn't spun around and briskly walked away that one lazy saturday simon was home, they would've probably let you watch them fuck each other stupid on the living room carpet.
it's also hard to bring it up to johnny because either simon's there, leaning on the kitchen island with his arms crossed as he watches you exist, or is taking up far too much space on the couch so that if you want to sit there and watch the telly, you're obligated to press up against his massive thigh. (manspreading, simon? really? truly?) or you can't look him in the eye after listening to the headboard repeatedly slam against the wall all night. you can still hear johnny's moans curling around the edges of your very conscious.
then, you meet the rest of the 141: a tall, broad bear of a man with the ocean in his eyes and an iconic mutton chop beard. john price, he'd rumbled as he shook your hand. and then the other one, a devastatingly pretty man with chocolate-brown eyes, a small scar on his cheek, and perfect, white teeth. kyle, the boys call me gaz. a pleasure. he'd grabbed your hand with both of his as he also shook it.
johnny doesn't stick around, excusing himself quickly as he takes a phone call but simon does. he stands directly behind you— a suffocating presence a silent guardian— so close you can feel his body warmth on the expanse of your back.
little close there, eh simon?
no' at all, boss.
once he starts showing up at your college with lunch, you feel like your patience is dangling by a fragile, whisper-thin thread so you confront him directly.
only to have him shut you down in seconds.
what's johnny's is mine. now sit, i know ya didn't eat breakfast this mornin'.
at least he brought you your favorite meal:}
#call of duty#simon ghost riley#johnny soap mactavish#simon ghost riley x reader#simon riley x reader#john soap mactavish#john soap mactavish x reader
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yeah yeah Simon Riley with an equally badass partner sounds great but-
pre-k teacher?
Simon swore he had never seen something so...perfect in his life, and he had seen something pretty amazing things for all of the horrible things
Simon who is pretty certain he isn't good for you, after all he towers over you and whenever he does come by to help Price with a bake sale the kids stare up at him as if he's quite literally...a ghost
Simon and all of his scariness that melted away when you smiled up at him, a sweet thank you on your lips as you took the box to help clean out your classroom for the summer
Simon who told price he would find a way home on his own so he could stay to help you get all of the decoration down from the walls and get everything packed away
Simon who would snatch something he deemed too heavy with a hoarse, 'I gotchit, luv' not even realizing the pet name slipped out because it felt so...natural
Simon even though he tried to make your son sit on the small patch of carpet and keep him entertained with his book- he ended up becoming a playgym and babysitter while you did most of the heavy lifting
Simon who found your son to actually be pretty neat, unlike a lot of other children, telling the kid very censored versions of his time in the war as the little guy sat atop of his shoulders
Simon tried to very politely decline the dinner invitation (plus ride home) once the room was all packed up but gave in when you aptly took his hand and began to drag him to your car
Simon sat in the passenger seat as you apologized for the toy car that lay in the seat as you buckled your son into his car seat, smiling at the small photo that sat snug on the car screen
Simon encouraged the boys to sing along to the obscure children's song while you scolded him for it in the form of a light pat on the leg as you drove to the nearest child friendly restaurant (chick-fil-a or something along those lines)
Simon who paid for the dinner against your many denials and used it as the perfect excuse to hold your hand as he tapped the card against the reader
Simon who watched in wonder as you helped your son get his little boots untied so he could go play in the play area, your delicate hands and smile upon your perfect face...
Simon listened intently to everything you rambled about, from the happiness of teaching and why you chose it to your son and how he was the greatest blessing in disguise you had been given- funny, because he thought that about you
Simon when he heard that you would have to find a nanny for your son for over the summer since you'll need a second job wouldn't let that be for even a millionth of a second
''ll watch 'em, luv."
"Simon, that's so kind bu-"
"No buts, like the lil' guy, no problem."
Simon who does like the little boy you call your son, but who was mainly using the free babysitting as a reason to see you
Like it?? Part two is right Here!
#simon ghost x reader#simon riley x reader#simon ghost riley x reader#simon ghost riley#mw2 ghost#ghost x you#cod x you#cod x reader#simon riley x you#simon riley#simon riley fluff#simon ghost x you#ghost fanfiction#simon riley fanfic#simon riley imagine#cod imagine#simon ghost fluff#Coco's chaos#simon riley x female reader#x female!reader#coco’s pre k universe! <3
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Humor Me (Even When it's Ruining Me)
masterlist | taglist: @pricegouged
babysitter!reader x single dad!price
cw: fem reader. implied age gap. nothing specific beyond reader being legal. alcohol. reader is a brat and john's having a lot of fun with it. inappropriate work flirting lmao. also i beefed john up cause i could. MDNI
this is in response to a prompt but i don't wanna publish the ask until it's all done and up. also, i don't think this is recognizable against what she posted, but i do remember reading @ceilidho 's musings on this exact dynamic forever ago and it poisoned my brain so any similarities are in fact her fault cause she's gotta stop being so brilliant
Banner by @cafekitsune
>Running late but the door's unlocked. Feel free to let yourself in.
You read the text again as you park your car alongside the shiniest Lexus you've ever seen in your life. It rubs you wrong, the whole thing. The triple wide garage and the perfectly manicured lawn, the lack of a formal meeting and now this - 'Come on in and meet my daughter unsupervised for the first time, the door to my aggressively lavish home is unlocked just for you.'
It had your hackles raised, creeping up the drive with caution. Honestly, if it hadn't been for the Laswells hooking you up with this gig, you probably would've backed right back out just as soon as you'd parked, but they'd never steered you wrong before and you doubted they would start tonight.
Kate Laswell wouldn't tolerate some kind of pervert, and she definitely wouldn't recommend your services to him.
The door is indeed unlocked, though you have some difficulty finding it at first. The flow of the walkway leads you right to the paneled door, but it certainly doesn't look very welcoming and at first glance you mistake the recessed entryway for just another confusing design element. But then the pathway runs out, bordering up to a lawn so lush it may as well have been planted with a carpet and you chew your lip, contemplating. For a moment you think to look for a back door, but then you take one step onto the lawn and your boot kicks out from under you, the soil beneath deceptively soaked by the automatic sprinkler no doubt. The fall isn't hard, just enough to plant you on your ass and splash some soil up onto your face. You frown at your dirty hands and then frown even harder when you see the trench your trainer has dug into the beautiful lawn. Standing, you try to wipe your palms on your hips and discover yet more mud so you give up, toeing a hunk of grass back into place in an attempt to cover the divot.
When you turn back to the house, your brain finally makes sense of the broad bands of wood, the lock, and the handle. You pull open the heavy door with a frustrated sigh, finding a moody foyer - pale flooring contrasting nicely with the glossy black wall which stood across from you, subtle inlets suggesting it hid closet space if only you were clever enough to figure out how to open it. Fucking rich people.
You remove your muddy shoes out of necessity, but you leave them in a dirty pile next to the door and head off in the direction of little kid TV noises with your jean jacket still firmly in place. You've had enough hoity toity doors for one day.
Emily is four, and you think at first that her father must be brave to leave her unsupervised while he gets ready in the other room, but you suppose needs must, and she's well enough behaved to be trusted it seems, if the pristine state of the room is anything to go by. She sits placidly on the floor, playing idly with a pile of HotWheels as she zones out to some bubbly princess show on the screen. She jumps about a foot when you call to her to make yourself known, and then watches warily as you introduce yourself. For a moment you think you'd rather face a parent's scrutiny, her dark eyes so intense on your face you briefly wonder if she's got the shining or something, if maybe she's about to tell you how you die -
And then she points at you with a boxcar accusationally. "Why are you so dirty?"
"Oh," you laugh awkwardly. It's stupid to flounder under a child's gaze but you feel a bit out of your depth already so you do, smearing more mess across your pants when you pat your dirty hands over your thighs. "Took a little tumble outside."
"You look silly. You need to clean up."
"I -. You're right, I do. Where's the bathroom, please?"
But Emily is uninterested in helping you, it seems, instead much more entertained by the vaguely rhythmic chanting of 'dirty girl' she sets into, clamoring to her feet in order to run circles around you, pointing every now and again to make it clear who she's singing about.
You sigh to yourself, hoping against hope that she's not another spoiled rotten client. You're getting real sick of rich people and their spoiled kids, honestly. But you don't bother trying to correct her behavior. You are after all a stranger who just wandered into her home covered in mud. Any adjustments made now likely wouldn't be taken seriously by a child and that's okay, you wouldn't take anyone seriously under those conditions either. So you just grumble good naturedly and break free from her little circle, wandering in the direction of a dark, recessed hall off to your left.
"The bathroom over here?"
"Dirty girl, messy girl!"
"Good talk," you mutter to yourself, socked feet slipping on the polished floor. You were definitely going to Risky Business the hell out of this place once the little shit had gone to bed. In the privacy the hallway offers, you give it a trial run, grinning like an idiot as you overshoot the first door and sidle back, rapping your knuckles on the frame out of habit. You roll your eyes at yourself for it, knowing full well the only other person home is upstairs getting ready, and push the door open just as someone from within grumbles 'In use!'
It's like you've never seen a man before, the way you stand there and gape. Looking at him now, you're not sure you ever have.
John Price is big. And hairy. And wet. And big, meaty fist so thoroughly swallowing the razor he's pulling up his exposed throat that at first you're unsure if he's just feeling himself up, inspecting the thick cords of his neck, maybe. Shaving cream drips down his bare chest in sticky rivulets, matting the thick pelt to his pecs. Water flows into the runnel between them, chestnut hair darkened by the runoff from his task. It drips down his forearms too, at least as far as it can, the hair there so thick it dams up somewhere around his wrists. He wears a towel slung low on his hips, his muscled belly hanging over the hem. It's tied off on the hip closest to you and hanging on for dear life, the breadth of him testing its capabilities. It gapes open high on his thigh, yet more hair and dense meat on display.
In the overwhelming humidity of the room, each breath feels too heavy to take, like your chest is simply too weak. You want to stammer an apology, but your mouth is suddenly much too dry and it comes out as little more than a series of clicking noises in your throat -
Which are completely drowned out by the litany of 'dirty girl!'s behind you.
Mr. Price huffs a laugh, razor clattering against the sink as he taps it clean. The noise is muted in the dense air but it's enough to break you of your spell and this time when you apologize, your voice is winded and thin but at least audible. You step back, attempt to duck out, but then the man is turning to face you fully, motioning you closer with the hand that still holds the razor and you've never been one to disobey the people who pay you so you do, careful not to slip on the slick tile.
"Think you need it more than I do," John rumbles, deep voice lilting around the edges as if he's in on some joke that you're not. He nods to the sink he still mostly blocks when you shoot him a confused look, clock the open interest in his gaze.
Right, the mud. Some first impression. "Sorry," you chuckle, trying to make light of it. "I took a little spill in your yard just now. Mr. Price, yes?"
John at least nods and has the decency to look concerned but his niceties end there, still standing much too close as you step forward and run the faucet, getting to work on your hands. You keep your eyes locked on your task, afraid to make eye contact with his reflection in front of you. He's only one man but between the sheer size of him and the mirror, you feel like you've been caged in.
"But you're alright, I hope? Not hurt?"
"Nothing besides my ego." Your laugh is still breathless, nodding down the hall where Emily continues singing. In the reflection, you catch John staring down at you shamelessly and you duck your head again before continuing, "Your daughter has a way with words."
John chuckles, scratches his chest absently. You try not to zero in on the sound of it. "Gets her clever tongue from her mum, I'm afraid."
And maybe it's because you're stupid, or it's because humor's never failed to get you out of a bind before - maybe you just like making things difficult for yourself - whatever the cause, the effect's the same. You're an incorrigible flirt. "Well, don't sell yourself short."
The scratching against John's chest stops. When you look up, ears on fire, you find him staring back at you through the reflection, dark eyes so heavy they're nearly a physical weight. Your pulse thrums, whole body primed for a smart retort, but then Emily is in the door, laughing at her own antics. Her voice is bubbly when she asks if you can order pizza and it's hard to stay mad at her even when she calls you 'messy girl' again.
You start to say yes and then bite your tongue, unsure. You don't care how Mr. Price feels about delivery, honestly, but it's possible Emily has a dairy allergy you don't yet know about. This is why you usually prefer to meet parents ahead of time, but Kate had said the man was much too busy for such a thing, and the way he'd been scrambling for a reliable babysitter after his live-in nanny retired had made you sympathetic (see: very open to accepting clients who could afford live-ins), bending your rules for one of the Laswells' oldest friends. It hadn't seemed like a big deal at the time but now you were being guilted into cheesy comfort food, you find yourself ill-prepared
Thankfully, John takes over. "Not until you learn some manners first, munchkin," he proposes, wetting a hand towel and turning you to face him with a big hand on your shoulder. You frown up at him in confusion but he just ignores you, wiping at your temple with his towel as he continues talking to the toddler behind you. "That's Miss Messy Girl, alright? Only polite."
When he releases you, you glare up at him, no real heat. He smirks, taking the towel to his own face now, wiping excess product off his skin without breaking eye contact. "Now ask nice."
You flounder a moment, at a loss, and then have to resist the urge to kick yourself when Emily takes up the queue instead. Of course he meant his daughter.
"Miss Messy, can we please order pizza?"
John laughs and suddenly you don't care how Mister Price feels about delivery. And if it turns out Emily can't have it, he can deal with her ensuing meltdown. He's already running late anyway. "Of course we can, sweetie. But please, my name is -."
"MISS MESSY'S THE BEST!" Emily crows, jumping up and down on the spot.
***
When he gets out of the bathroom, John teases you right up until the moment he heads out the door that pizza was your idea so you'll have to pay for it. He also throws a stack of flannel and henley at you, tells you to stop tracking mud all over his house or he'll add cleaning to your job description. You tell him you charge extra for that and he gives you a look like he's famished, like you're the first slice of meat he's seen in years.
It only gets worse when you emerge from the bathroom moments later with what can only be his pajamas hanging off you, but he never says anything inappropriate and he keeps his hands to himself. You try not to think about why that disappoints you.
Resisting the urge to take a big whiff of his thermal is far more difficult.
(Past the scent of fresh laundry, he smells like cedar and smoke and in the crease of the seams, something muskier lingers.
You decide you're going to steal it right then.)
He shows you to the laundry room, shuffling a load of brightly colored girl's clothes from the dryer before giving you the rundown on how to use them. You're not sure what about you gives him the idea you don't know how to operate a washer, but you decide not to comment on it when it means him standing too close, the warmth of his body seeping into your back.
The spiel about Emily's schedule and needs is delivered as he shoves his feet into a brown pair of loafers. They match his belt perfectly, visible where he keeps his fitted button up tucked into pressed blue slacks. It's hard to pay attention to what he's saying but you're fairly certain you catch the gist of it. No strawberries or house parties, bed by ten at the latest and only if she's well behaved. He knows you have his number saved because he texted you about your availability this evening earlier in the week, but that doesn't stop him from standing over your shoulder to ensure he's still in there. You think you hear him snort when he sees he's saved as 'Mr. Price' with a money bag emoji but you steadfastly refuse to think too hard about it.
When everything finally meets his expectations, John scoops Emily up in a big bear hug and peppers her in kisses which leave her squealing in ticklish delight.
Emily hangs from him happily, little arms wrapped around his neck as if she'll never let go. You hear him whisper something conspiratorial directly into her ear which makes the girl giggle in delight before shooting you a wink which has your stomach fluttering with a strange mix of excitement and apprehension. Likely, he's just telling her to behave for you and being cheeky about it, but he's far too handsome to be running around winking at young ladies like that and you've half a mind to tell him.
Maybe you'll pencil that in after your sock sliding. He does say you're allowed to text for any reason, after all.
"And I mean it. Don't want to waste my evening there anyway," he grumbles, setting his daughter down.
"So stay here with me, daddy!" she implores. "I'm much cuter anyway." Little shit even strikes a pose.
John chuckles, hand heavy when he pets her hair. "The company here is much better," he hedges, and for a split second you think you see his eyes flick to you. "But unfortunately a man's gotta endure some boring business dinners from time to time if he wants to get ahead in life."
A beat passes while Emily seems to think that over. John starts his car from his fob while he lets her digest that, the very picture of placating indulgence. Vaguely, you want him to look at you - or through you - like that and then immediately decide that's a desire best left uninspected.
"You're out every night!" Emily gripes, no real heat. It's the kind of thing you know will bug her later in life but for now she's too busy reveling in all the late night pizza parties and gifts he no doubt showers her with to mask his own guilt.
You've been there before.
"That's true," John allows, brief flick of regret across his face. "Which means you gotta be good for Ms. Messy so she'll come back."
Emily gives you a look as if she's not very excited by that prospect and you're so offended you forget to correct John about your position being regular.
John laughs when you scoff, a harsh bark that stops your snide remark in its tracks. "Behave, you two," he says by way of farewell. "And try to get along."
Shrugging, Emily bounds away in search of better entertainment. John's big hand is on his ridiculous doorknob as he waves absently and then you're remembering so quickly there's no time to dress up your request when you call after him for pizza money.
A beat passes, Mr. Price blinks at you. You sheepishly tack on a please and he hums, digging in his back pocket for his wallet. "Suppose I can't expect you not to ruin my reputation as a good tipper," he grumbles and you gape when he hands you a crisp hundred note.
"That's way too much," you blurt, not even reaching to take it from him.
John just shrugs, tucks it into the hip pocket of his own pajama pants while you're still stiff as a board, winks as he tells you it's just a tip.
It's only after the door snicks shut on silent hinges behind him that your brain catches up enough to catch his double entendre
***
Emily is a sweet girl, if a little catty at times but she's endlessly amusing to tease so you're honestly surprised when bedtime sneaks up on you both. Despite your chosen profession, you don't usually get along with kids as well as you do with her. She even carts herself off to bed with little complaint, an absolute unheard of when it comes to first nights with a new family.
It's how you end up on the couch with too much time to spare, bored in a house that's smarter than you and unsure when you'll be relieved. You flick through the endless list of streaming services briefly, settling on some mindless comedy because you don't want to watch any girly romances and mess up Mr. Price's algorithm.
Well, the messing it up part sounds endlessly entertaining, but not worth the embarrassment of him knowing the kind of stuff you blubber to at home.
It's a fine enough distraction until you settle into the couch, the collar of John's shirt riding up until you can comfortably cover your face with it. It still smells like him, enough to deter you from going downstairs and swapping it for your own clothes. It's not a problem until the masculine scent and the boring movie have you reaching for your phone, scrolling through steamy romances until you find something to fantasize about. And even that's not a problem until the author earns their rating, the depiction of the female lead's satisfaction so explicitly rendered it has you rubbing your thighs together, head on a swivel lest you be surprised by a sleepless little girl.
By the time your face feels aflame and your panties feel soaked, you're debating texting John to see if he'd mind you crashing in a guest room when you jump a foot at a noise behind you, turning to find that very same man not two feet behind you.
That fucking door.
"Could've texted," you accuse, and Mr. Price holds up two hands in mock surrender.
"So could've you," he drawls and then smirks at your confused look, drawing in a rather pointed breath through his nose. "Told you to text if you needed help with anything."
It's just subtle enough you're not sure you would have gotten it if not for the graphic descriptions of heady scent your nose had just been stuck in. You stammer something that might be an apology, though you're not entirely sure why. Suddenly you feel like the frog being boiled alive.
He's kind enough not to let you flounder for too long, moving on like he's the picture of innocence with a heavy hand on the back of the couch, muscles of his forearm bunching when he leans over the back of it, just this side of too close. "Everything go okay, then?"
"Yes, Mr. Price," you recite, the fight to keep your legs uncrossed and neutral a conscious thing. You do not need to prove him right by overacting the blushing virgin.
"And Emily behaved?"
"Well," you hedge, voice high and humorous. You're desperate to get to familiar ground and it's the quickest path, unfolding before you well-trod and welcoming. Parents love when you can joke about their kids and John's no exception, eyes crinkling in delight as he conjures up whatever image he has of his daughter in mind.
"She can be a handful," he agrees even though you never said that. "Not so bad you'll refuse me for Wednesday though, I hope?"
You balk. "Wednesday? Day after tomorrow?"
"Aye, sorry for the late notice - again. But you'd be getting out of here a little earlier, at least."
"Mr. Price, I have…" A paper due, a social life that's slowly dying, responsibilities. "I'm busy that night. The Laswells -."
"I've already fixed it with Kate. You can bring Colin here for the evening, Gina will pick him up when she gets off work."
"But… Wait, I can bring him?"
"Well they'll need you for the morning, right? I won't need you until Emily's due back from preschool." He shrugs, the motion carrying him down until he leans both forearms on the back of the couch. "It just makes the most sense."
"But that's clear across town?"
"Oh, I'll pay for your gas, of course."
"Hang on. Am I picking up Emily, too?"
"Oh, would you? Thanks, you're such a dear."
You blink, overwhelmed. This was only supposed to be a one time favor for Kate's friend, you can't juggle school and two part time babysitting gigs. But you don't know how to tell him that in a way Kate hasn't already. "I'm not sure how I feel about watching both kids at once."
The look he gives you is borderline lecherous, though you're unsure why. "I'm sure you can handle it," he rumbles, voice suddenly much deeper. He clears his throat. "And we'd both pay you full rate, of course. Only fair."
You scoff. "Well yeah, I don't offer a group rate."
Your jaw clicks closed audibly when his gaze turns hungry again. "Our loss."
Swallowing past the nerves in your throat, you eye him over openly. Technically, John hasn't moved any closer but the way he looms over you now feels somehow much more imminent than it had only moments ago; threatens to pin you in place lest you move out from under him. "I have to go get my clothes... I'll think on it?"
John smiles, just slightly forced. "'Course, kiddo. Need me to walk you downstairs? Basement can be a bit scary after dark."
"Um. No. Thanks."
He breaks away when you do, unfolding to his full, impressive height. "I'll be in the kitchen," he offers and then he lets you get away with no further comment.
Outside of Mr. Price's vaguely concerning influence, it's easy to see you'd be stupid not to take the job. You don't like how pushy he seems, but if you've already given up your day to work anyway, it's a no-brainer to take on the second income while you're at it. Besides, the beauty of under the table jobs like this was you could back out any time you wanted so there really wasn't much harm in taking the man who tips delivery drivers one hundred percent on for a few jobs, see how well it panned out for you. Even if you're fairly certain he's flirting.
Like, extremely certain.
But he was still annoying about it and you didn't like being taken advantage of or being teased like that, so you don't feel bad when you leave his comfy henley on under your sweatshirt, march back upstairs with your spoils well hidden.
In the kitchen, John inspects the label of a golden scotch you can't pronounce, thick fingers drumming on the counter silently. His watch catches the pendant light, a thick stripe of silver nestled in his dark hair. He's got his shirt unbuttoned like a whore, just far enough you can see a spot of the matching pelt there, your brain helpfully supplying you with memories of how he'd looked earlier, shirtless and dripping with cream.
Shaving cream. Dripping with shaving cream.
"Are you old enough to drink?" He asks bluntly, pointing at the matching tumblers before him when all you manage is a blink in response.
"No. No, thank you!" You clarify when the man looks like he's about to choke on his tongue. It's enough to settle your nerves a bit, get your footing back underneath yourself. About time he's the one left floundering. "Sorry, I am old enough, but I gotta drive in a minute here."
John's quick to recover, pouring himself a neat glass as he shrugs. "Could spend the night."
"Well," you hedge, still worrying you're reading too far into all this. If it's too hot in here, you blame the three layers of tops you have on. "Wouldn't want to wear out my welcome. You'll see me again on Wednesday, after all."
His smile is just as honeyed and warm as his drink. "There's a good girl," he rumbles and it's a physical fight not to let your knees buckle when he comes close, another hundred note tucked into your front pocket.
"That's way too much again, John," you breathe and his grin turns patronizing.
"John, is it?" He makes as if to snatch away the money and you take a step back, out of his range. He just grins at you over the rim of his glass, lets you keep your distance.
"S-sorry, Mr. Price." After a moment's deliberation, you ask if he'd like the money back and he snorts.
"Cute." Placing his drink on the counter with a clatter, he steps close and guides you to the door with a hand on your back. Part of you thinks your dismissal is a bit sudden, but you can't be too upset by it when you just want to hide under a pile of blankets until your nerves settle, maybe replace your pillow case with his shirt. "No, kiddo, I don't want that back. Just teasing. Over tipper, remember?"
"Right. Um. Thank you."
"My pleasure," he says magnanimously, drawing to a stop next to your shoes and pushing them toward you with socked feet. He does nothing to hide his slight distaste at the sight of so much mud and you try not to let shame make you meek again, remembering instead how annoyed you'd been about his stupid door and his stupid lawn when you'd left them there. It's hard to maintain the feeling when he offers to walk you to your car, your weak little thank you just as pathetic as the one that came before.
John's the perfect gentleman, his hand returning to the small of your back as he ushers you down the drive. He tells you to text him when you get home safe and checks for fingers before closing the door. He even watches as you pull out, waving at you happily as you drive off. You spend the whole commute wondering what you've gotten yourself into and if you'll ever be able to look Kate in the eye again if you fuck her friend.
John calls you kiddo again when you text him that you've made it home safe, tells you to sleep well.
In the morning he asks if you've stolen his shirt.
Next>>
#and again a massive shoutout to 3amfanfiction for looking it over#where would i be without you?#john price x reader#captain john price x reader
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he helps you study
After agreeing to let him use you whenever he wants, Captain Price fucks you freely while you’re studying, making you read your chapter out loud.
Warning: Free use, prior explicit consent, domination
Two more chapters and you’d finally be done. This statistics class was killing you, and going back to school after having already been in the workforce for so long had made it even harder. There were discussion questions due tomorrow, and you needed to finish them tonight.
You heard the door to your bedroom creak open, and John’s heavy footsteps padded on the carpet.
Glancing over your shoulder, you gave him a half-smile,
“Hey, honey. I’m not finished yet, but I’ll be there soon. I know you wanted to watch a movie. I’m sorry I -”
You felt his hands pull your pajama shorts and underwear down to your thighs in one, rough movement.
“Hey! I don’t have time for this. What are you -”
“Read. Your. Book,” his voice was so close to your ear, and the way he bullied you with the weight of his body on your back made your breath catch in your throat.
You heard the tell-tale jingle of his belt buckle. Then the zipper. Turning your attention back to the book was impossible. He noticed your distracted look and sank a fingertip into your pussy, playing gently at your entrance, convincing it to swell, anticipating his cock.
“I told you to read, sweetheart. Out loud.”
You swallowed, trying to find your place on the page,
“Chapter 12. Misuse of statistics can produce subtle but serious errors in description and interpretation…“
You felt his weight crush the mattress. Your captain was situated behind you. He spread your legs open and pulled your hips back, lifting your ass up in the air. The cool air of the room rushed over your exposed flesh. You felt his mouth begin to lick your folds, not for your pleasure but for his.
“…subtle in the sense that even experienced professionals make such errors…oh, shit, John,” you cried out from the feel of his tongue as it laved through your folds.
He stopped eating you, and you felt him lean forward. Then, his cockhead was prodding at your hole. He was wetting it with your own fluids, using his dick like a paintbrush before pushing forward into your tight, unprepared walls.
“Ahh, honey, wait!” You tried to slow him down, looking back at him.
What you saw when you turned around was a warning. You had agreed to free use after he had asked you for it, and he had warned you about his rules. He would take you, whenever, wherever, and however he wanted, and you were not to complain. You had to use the safe word.
You didn’t use it, squeezing your eyes shut in a pleasurable kind of pain, returning to your book,
“…and serious in the sense that they can lead to devastating decision errors. For instance,” you had to stop again.
You couldn’t continue. His cock felt too damn good. You were moaning, feeling yourself being stretched out by your captain, experiencing a sudden flood of wetness as your body attempted to accommodate its favorite guest.
“For instance, what, pretty girl?” He asked cruelly, fitting the tip of his thumb into your asshole as he pounded himself forward, slamming his weight into you, stretching both of your holes.
You were struggling to concentrate, and the words came out in strained, staccatoed bursts,
“For instance, social policy, medical practice, and the reliability of structures like bridges all rely on the proper use of statistics…”
John fucked you faster, shaking the bed, grunting and moaning without shame, gripping onto your hips fiercely and without mercy. You could feel how impossibly hard he was. His thickness overwhelmed you even with lube and plenty of foreplay. Like this, raw and sudden, it was enough to make you drunk on his lustful work.
“Keep reading, love. This tight little cunt is gonna make me come,” he growled low and tense through his clenched jaw, using his thumb to push deeper into your sensitive ass.
“Even when statistical techniques…” you whispered, incapable of projecting your voice without it turning into a wanton moan.
“That’s it, baby, that’s it. Good girl,” he took his thumb away in order to play with your rigid clit. It sent sparks through you, making you clench down around him. He groaned louder.
You tried to read, not wanting to displease your captain, trying to be a good girl, just for him. Whatever he wanted, you were eager to give it.
“…are correctly applied…”
“God fuckin’ damnit! That’s what I want, love. Come for me. Squeeze this cock for me. That’s it. That’s it, babe,” John leaned forward, his chest pressing down on your back, fucking you like a hound, his other hand grasping the sheets as he tried to hold his full weight off of you.
He knew exactly how you liked your pussy to be played with. His hands were huge, and his long fingers could apply the most delicious pressure against your swollen folds, making your legs tremble and shake.
“…the results can be difficult…”
You couldn’t breathe. You came so hard that you saw stars, keeping yourself from moaning to give him the obedience he was craving. He screamed loud enough for the both of you, pumping harder and harder into you like a steel piston, spilling inside of you in hot, thick ropes.
“…to interpret.”
You were both panting, ragged and well-used. He pulled himself out of you as slowly as he could, setting your legs back down, and leaving you on the bed, wet and soaking in his come. You heard his belt buckle clinking again, being fastened by its panting owner. He pulled your panties back up, making sure to scoop his escaped come back into the fabric so it would smear against your lips. Then, your shorts, positioned on your waist with care.
Closing the door to the bedroom, John left you there, holding your textbook, shaking like a leaf.
#call of duty fanfic#cod mw2#cod mwii#captain john price#cod#john price#captain price#captain price x reader#captain price x you#john price x reader#captain john price x reader#captain john price smut#john price smut#afab reader#Female reader#x female reader
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Hybrid 141 As Parents - Foster Human Child!Reader (Part 2)
You try not to linger too much on the way they were acting. They seemed fine, really, they did, and you were just nervous, you knew that. It was just mindless anxiety that made you flinch quietly when they approached a little too much as they gave you a tour around their house.
They were being relatively quiet, their voices in a low volume as mostly John Price, the dragon, introduced each part of their house to you. You all walked with you on the middle, as John was walking in front of you and the other three behing you, Johnny a little bit more to the side.
You didn't really notice, not with how you were keeping your eyes mostly at the ground and at the dragon's back, but the three other hybrids had their eyes glued to your small form. Small little thing, that walked so slow. Since John was in front of the group, he had a bit more space to walk, even if he was going slower for you. But for the three who were slightly behind? They were almost just shuffling along so they could keep following you and still keep a respectful distance.
Johnny was clearly getting antsy as they walked. He's a werewolf, that, like dragons, are a very... touchy species. Especially with their pups. And you're just so slow, so cute, so small... he really wanted to touch you. To pick you up and carry you in strong and big arms that would certainly keep a small, soft thing like you warm. And now, he can't avoid paying attention on the fact that you seen to be wearing just a light jacket, and it's cold outside. Well, not to him, but he knows humans, he knows they get cold so easily......
"Control yourself, Tav." Before he could even process, sharp talons were pulling him back as Gaz hissed quietly in his ear, holding his arm firmly. "She's not used to us yet." "I knae, i knae..." Johhny breathed in quietly, trying to compose himself. "Just... such a wee thing..."
You look back for a second, just to see the two big hybrids whispering to eachother. Before you could even try and pay attention to what they were saying, John called your attention back to him. "And this, sweetheart, is your new room."
You nod quietly at that, still a little unsure. John smiled gently at your hesitance, opening a white door at the end of the hallway they were walking on. That makes you frown a little. What kind of kid's room is the last one on the hallway? That's usually the parents room, from your experience.
Still, you couldn't avoid widening your eyes a bit at the sight of the bedroom. Their house was big, that much was obvious (they must have had a hundred children or something), so the room being big wasn't exactly a... surprise. Still, were all rooms in hybrid houses like this?
The room was spacious, big like the rest of the house, but also... very heavily padded. The bedroom floor had soft thick carpet while the rest of the house had wooden floors. At the middle of the room, it had some kind of weird blankets and pillows nest, caved inside the floor. Still, it had a single lonely bed to the side, a cute little bed that looked like it couldn't fit any of the hybrid men.
The bed was pilled with a lot of blankets and pillows, just like the nest. Very fluffy looking, and even had a small metal fance at the side that wasn't against the wall, padded, of course, that made you think that it could have only come from their kids' toddler years or something.
There were a lot of toys tucked inside toy boxes to the side, that were by a giant closet. Some of the plushies were around the room, inside the weird nest at the middle and close to the bed, all soft plush animals. The only two windows had metal bars on them, and were covered by long curtains.
The colors of the room were heavily leaning into pastel tones, like pastel pink, pastel purple, pastel yellow, pastel blue, pastel green and white. It all looked so... childish, but... confortable too.... It looked confortable, safe, clean. It was very clean. This room looked like something out of a movie or something.
So that's why all you could do was stay still as you stared inside the room, a bit stunned. It was just by John's gentle nudge, one that still made you flinch a bit as you felt a heavy, scaily tail touch your back, that you finally stepped inside.
"This was some of our children's room when they were younger." John explained gently, leaning against the door as the others also tried (and failed) to look smooth as they leaned forward by Price's body to watch you inside. "I hope it's okay?"
"A-ah, it's... good..." You mumble quietly, still looking around the room.
Kyle's wings ruffled at your small, meak voice, eyes foucused on you like a damn eagle. Simon leaned a bit more inside the room, silent, a big scary presence. John cleaned his throat a little as he noticed how shy that was making you.
"We're gonna leave you to unpack. If you need us for anything, you just need to call, okay, sweetheart?"
You nodded quietly, still standing in the middle of the room with uncertainty. John smiled gently once again before pushing the others back with his tail and closing the door. You pretended not to hear rushed whispers as soon as the door was closed, foucusing more on putting your backpack under the bed safely.
The bed that... looked so inviting, and so fluff, and it smelled so clean too...
And in a second, you were out like a light, curled in a small little ball on the bed, sleeping over the confortable covers.
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PAY THE PRICE — 22. drunken regrets
(wc: 2.572… yeah..)
entering haechan’s apartment felt like stepping foot into foreign territory. you weren’t sure what you were expecting when the door opened, but haechan who stared at you with a lazy lopsided grin and gleaming eyes wasn’t exactly your first guess. “how much did you drink?” was the first question that you voiced upon seeing him.
haechan barely registered your words, seemingly in his own world. “just.. a few glasses?” he guessed after a while, squinting his eyes in thoughts. he opened his door wider for you, stepping aside to allow you to gaze further into the place. “come inside.” he welcomed you, surprising you at the sweet tone of his words.
you’re not sure how haechan had managed to convince you to come over to his place to clean up after him, but here you were, stood in the middle of his living room as you took in the interior of his place. his walls and decor were all painted in neutral colours, and you mentally noted how it suited his aura a lot.
“come sit with me.” haechan’s words snapped you out of your thoughts, and you followed the sound of his voice to see that he had seated himself on the ground you assumed he was previously sat on. his body was leaning against the couch behind him, head thrown back as he looked up at you. he still carried the small grin, and his eyes still held that same gloss.
you clicked your tongue, taking small steps further into his living room. “why are you back on the ground? you’re making this harder for the both us haechan.” you groaned and reached down to grip onto his guitar that was placed next to him. haechan barely listened to your words as he was busy watching your every movement. “do you want a glass?” he had offered once you turned back to him.
you gaped at haechan in disbelief, remaining silent for a few moments. you were about to ask him if he had lost his mind again, but the smile on his face halted your action, and you let out a sigh instead. one that haechan found amusing. “get off the floor.” you instructed him sternly, and haechan’s amused grin only grew.
his hand was slowly grazing through his brown locks that had turned black in the shadows of the room. “come on (—), you’re awake anyways.” haechan patted the spot next to him on the carpet. “sit down.” he called you over. he reached forward to grip onto the glass that was placed on the coffee table in front of him, bringing it up to his lips. “haechan.” you warned him, walking over to him to take the glass out of his hands.
“you’re no fun.” haechan huffed. “i’m not exactly trying to be fun, i’m trying to clean up after you so we can both go to sleep.” you explained, looking around in hopes of figuring out the direction of his kitchen in the dark. “why did you turn of all the lights?” you wondered. “it was hurting my eyes.” haechan explained back, still seated on the ground.
the kitchen wasn’t far away, and you placed the cup into the sink, as well as the other dirty dishes placed on the counter. you had to physically hold yourself back from washing each of them, remembering that you weren’t here to play as his maid. or maybe you kinda were, but not to that extent.
“why are you here for so long?” you jumped away from the sink and almost shrieked at the sudden infiltration of haechan in the kitchen. your heart was beating erratically, and you turned to look back at him with wide eyes. “what the fuck? don’t creep up on me like that!” you nudged him away. haechan softly laughed, grabbing onto your wrist to stop you from pushing him any more. “you took too long, i was starting to miss your presence.” he chuckled.
it took you a moment to register his words, and once they did, you stiffened in his hold. “what?” you questioned him, but haechan didn’t seem like he was going to expand on his words any time soon, instead he continued to stare at you with droopy eyes and a small grin. “how drunk are you?” you eyed haechan in suspicion and he shrugged.
whether he was aware of it or not, his thumb had started to rub the skin on your wrist softly as he tried to put a label on his drunk status. you on the other felt every bit of it, slightly shuddering at the ticklish feeling. “i don’t know, just a little?” haechan concluded after a while. his thumb continued to rub your wrist, and you were starting to believe it was intentional by now.
“you should go to bed.” you suggested to him, taking a step back, but he followed suit and stepped forward himself. “are you leaving already?” he seemed surprised and you hesitantly nodded your head. “i mean, i put your stuff away right?” you explained. his gaze felt heavy on you as he scanned your whole face. he had somehow managed to take ahold of your wrist again. “can you stay until i fall asleep, at least?” he requested.
your eyes widened in shock, frantically shaking your head. “what? that’s weird, haechan. why would i do that?” you asked, baffled. haechan shook his head as well, mildly swinging your wrist around as he spoke. “please, (—). i just wanna talk some more, after that you can leave. please?” haechan pleaded.
it took you by surprise, because what the actual fuck. never in a million years would’ve you imagined haechan desperately begging you for a favour, let alone the favour being your company of all things. was this even haechan?
while you were taking in the unexpected moment, haechan had already started to drag you with him to his bed room. it didn’t fully click yet what he was doing until the both of you were stood in the middle of his room, and he turned to look at you. “you can sit at the end of my bed, or lay next to me, i don’t bite.” haechan suggested with a smug look. there was a tone to his words, as well as his demeanour that caught you off guard.
“haechan..” you started, and you weren’t sure what you were exactly going to say. it was like all your thoughts disappeared when he softly smiled at you and took ahold of your shoulder, guiding to sit down on his bed before he sat down next to you. “you complain a lot, you know?” haechan chuckled. you could feel the way his eyes bore into your side, and were hesitant to look back.
“it’s because you annoy me a lot.” you defended yourself, thought your words seemed to lack uncertainty, almost as if you didn’t mean it. haechan hummed, leaning back on his arms. “can’t help it, i like how aggressive you get.” he chuckled and you finally took the courage to look his way, thought it was solely to send him a disapproving frown. he laughed upon seeing your expression, slightly leaning forward towards you. “what’s with the look?”
“why am i still here.” you deadpanned. being in his apartment was one thing, but making it onto his bed and sitting closely beside him was something totally different. there was something quite intimate about the moment. you could practically feel the warmth emitted from haechan hit your bare arm, and it sent a tingle through your body. “hm? do you not like being here with me?” haechan asked. you didn’t, but you also did.
you shrugged. “well, i like that you’re here.” haechan confessed, moving back to sit right next to you. “you’re drunk, you really should go to bed, you know?” you suggested and tried to move away. his body heat was practically enclosing you, and your own body was starting to warm up from the proximity. it didn’t help that haechan had accidentally placed his hand on top of yours too, slightly intertwining them from the top. or maybe it was intentional.
“you don’t even look at me whole you say that, why would i take your words serious?” he laughed, amused at how you persistently avoided his eyes. yes, you were avoiding them on purpose, especially when this particular night, his eyes seemed to be filled with nothing but fondness and slight intimacy. you’re not sure what was wrong with haechan tonight, he was not himself.
your throat that had dried up over time, and you swallowed before deciding to go against your attempts and look haechan directly in the eyes. “haechan, go to sleep please?” you asked him, attempting to sound persuasive yet demanding as possible.
again, haechan’s gaze held a certain fondness in them as he just stared at you with doe eyes. he seemed almost hypnotised with the way he hadn’t uttered a word, and you were starting to wonder if he had even heard you. your mouth opened to speak again, but he beat you to it.
“you’re so cute when you care about me like this, you know?”
whatever air you had inhaled to speak again remained stuck in your throat as your eyes widened. you were perplexed, at a loss for words even. your heart rate had involuntarily spiked up and your breath hitched. as if he took enjoyment out of your reaction, a small smile formed on his lips before he spoke again.
“you’re much cuter like this.. when you’re not nagging me. you should do that less.” you felt your heart pulse in your throat, eyes still widened while you listened to haechan’s surprising affectionate words. his hand was still placed on top of yours, slightly tapping the tips of your fingers every now and then.
“um.. i.. i think i should go.” you stammered, attempting to stand up. your knees felt weak and you wondered whether those few minutes on his bed were the reason, or haechan himself was the reason. you wobbled a bit, and haechan’s hand instinctively found place on your lower back while he quickly stood up himself. “be careful.”
his hand had reached the side of your hip, holding you secure as if you would fall down any moment. “i’m fine.” you muttered out, trying to step away from him. he let you slip out of his grasp, and you wondered if it was appropriate to just run out of his apartment at that moment. “should i bring you to the front door?” haechan proposed, already standing right in front of you. you took a careful step back. “oh- um, i think i’ll be fine..” you responded back.
it was like all your sense of thinking had left your body the moment the two of you were sat on his bed. you couldn’t even articulate a normal sentence, let alone look him in the eye. this had to be the devil himself, because there was no way haechan had this affect on you.
but as his hand grasped for yours and he started to gently tug you with him to his front door, you reconsidered the possibility of it all.
he opened the door for you, hand still in his, and had walked you to your own door without any words. it was silly, your door was right next to his, yet he still fully exited his apartment so the two of you were in front of your door.
“you good?” you wondered why he had to duck his head just so he could look you in the eye, why he felt the need to lift your jaw upwards just so your eyes could meet, and why he had to feign worry when you know he didn’t really care. “i’m fine” you whispered out, too scared of how wobbly your voice would sound if any louder. haechan’s eyes slowly inspected your whole face before he nodded, though not letting go of your jaw.
“thank you for cleaning up for me, by the way. i owe you.” you hadn’t thought of the possibility of a payback, mostly doing this for your own sake. “it’s okay.. you don’t have to.” you quietly answered back. haechan pondered over your answer for a while, slowly letting his hand go from your jaw, his other hand strangely still slotted in your own. you weren’t sure whether to break away from it or leave it as it is.
he was drunk after all, he was most likely doing actions out of his comfort zone.
“would a kiss be enough of payback?” he quirked and you almost jump at the suggestion. if your sense of thinking had left your body previously, you’re sure that every single one of the 5 senses had just left your body as the words left his mouth. your heart was beating erratically, and it was haechan’s fault again. though this time, you were scared for other reasons.
“w-what?” you stuttered in pure disbelief. haechan’s look was nothing but playful as he leaned forwards with a slight grin. “wouldn’t it be great compensation, hm? let me try, you tell me.” he teasingly leaned in. you attempted to push your head back into your door, avoiding his incoming attempts at anything.
from the short distance between you two, you were able to smell the scent of his shampoo, a sweet vanilla fragrance to was unfortunately pleasant. you were able to see desire in his eyes as you made eye contact for a split second. the soft glow of the hall light casted a warm and ethereal beam over him, and for once, all you could think of when looking at haechan was how nice he looked.
his nose barely touched yours and the warmth of his breath had started to hit your lips. you had shut your eyes tightly, surprisingly not opposed to whatever was going to happen next. because despite haechan being extremely insufferable, he was equally attractive, and you were not one to refuse on the opportunity to get kissed by an attractive person.
a part of you didn’t believe he would actually go through with his proposal, but as you felt a pair of soft lips plant onto yours, all your senses had seemed to return to you and you realised that he was not bluffing. haechan was actually kissing you, and you hated to admit that you didn’t mind it.
his hand that was previously on your jaw found its way back, slightly caressing your jaw as he pulled you closer. it felt good, and it didn’t seem like haechan was intending on stopping anytime soon. it felt good, but it was wrong, and an alarm went off in your head as you realised what was happening.
panic surged through you and you nudged haechan off you. the boy slowly opened his eyes in confusion, and the way they held that same glimmer they had the whole night made you groan. haechan was drunk, and you were kissing him while he was drunk.
you lowly cursed, not sparing haechan another glance before you opened your apartment door and closed it right behind you. with a deep sigh, you leaned against the door in exasperation. “fucking hell.” you cursed. you regretted ever going over to his apartment. you regretted going into his bedroom, you regretted kissing him.
it ended up being a waste of your time as you remained sleepless the rest of the night anyways.
previous — master list — next
notes ; happy haechan day and also happy lqfiles day, a little birthday present from me to you! ^^
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Rules {Part Three}
18+ ---- {Masterlist} {Tag-List}
Part Three
You head over to Elijah's place, ready to have a fun night together. But when you don't mind your manners, you end up paying the price.
♡♡ Thank you guys so much for all the love for Rules! Its wonderful to know how much we all love his middle part era ♡♡
6k words - Warnings: salvatore!sibling reader, so smutty, dom!elijah, rough sex, blowjob, choking {the sexy kind and the not so sexy kind}, spanking, doggy, secret affair, lot's of Damon {Stefan will show up in part four}, Elijah being the sexiest middle-part menace he can be, violence, ANGST! angst and more angst ...
{Part One} {Part Two}{Part Four}{Part Five}
♡♡ Tag-List ♡♡
Trying to fix my tags! I re-added all of you, and now you will be posted at the top!
If you no longer wished to be tagged just shoot me a DM {I won't be offended} xoxo~
@gorgeouslydangerous @starkleila @lydia1369sworld @notleylaaa @vampiresluv
@myanmy @xflowerbombxo @maryvibess @always-and-forever-daydreaming @criminallminds @rosemarypotion @spnaquakindgdom @amournoir @meeom @damienmorton @wickedmuse @sunkissedebony97 @idk00sblog @savannaounana @cs-please @complicatedandconfusing-25 @youcanhavemybuckanyday @akala6670229 @yeaiamme2 @itsjulzandmydiamonds @spideysbabe @witch-of-letters @elijahstwink @rosecentury @sekaishell @ziayamikaelson @amanda08319 @starshipcookie @li-da-savage @veggie-eggrolls @spideybv28 @loving-and-dreaming @fancycassie-stayfancy
The apartment building Elijah told you to go meet him at was an old, abandoned building in a shady neighborhood. The hallway was dark and littered with trash and graffiti, the carpet stained and torn, the walls cracked. It was so unlike him, you were worried that you got the address wrong, or that this was some sort of trap.
For the first time in a long time, you felt a tiny bit of fear creep into your heart. But it didn't last long. You liked him, a lot, and he seemed to feel the same way about you. It was all going to work out, you were certain of it.
You reached the last door, 117. Your hands shook slightly, and your stomach was doing flips. You weren't used to feeling like this. You were usually in complete control, but this situation with Elijah was spiraling further and further out of your grasp.
You lifted your hand and knocked on the door, a soft sound, and waited, your breath caught in your throat. A minute later the door opened and Elijah was standing before you, a smile on his lips.
"Miss Salvatore," He greeted, his eyes looking you up and down.
You smiled and entered the apartment, which was the polar opposite of the building. The inside was spotless, and looked like it belonged in a magazine. It was a simple apartment, but everything was high end and luxurious.
"This is a nice place," You commented, looking around the main room, and then at the window, which overlooked the street.
"It suits my needs," He hummed, coming up behind you, his hands sliding around your waist.
You leaned into him, his lips ghosting along your neck. You let out a soft moan, your eyes fluttering closed.
"I'm so glad you are here," He whispered against your neck, his breath hot, his tongue lapping at your skin.
You turned around and placed a kiss on his lips, his hands tightening around your waist, pulling you closer.
"Thank you for saving my brother today," You said softly, your hands going to his tie, undoing it slowly. "I know he can be... antagonistic,"
"Yes, he can be," He chuckled, his hands slipping under your dress, and gripping your ass.
"What are your plans for him?" You asked, a hint of concern in your voice, your hands resting on his chest.
"If he minds his manners, so will I," Elijah hummed, his fingers tracing circles along your lower back, and then lower, teasing the edge of your underwear.
"And Elena?" You pressed, trying to ignore the effect his touch was having on you.
Elijah paused, his hand slipping from under your dress, his expression growing serious. "Rule two, darling,"
"Right," You said quietly, averting your gaze.
"Now," He said softly, his finger lifting your chin. "Where were we?"
You smiled, and wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him down for a kiss. You pushed on his chest, slowly guiding him back towards the sofa, his hands gripping your ass.
His legs hit the back of the couch, and you broke the kiss, pushing him to sit. His eyes darkened as he watched you slowly remove your gloves, shawl and then the rest of your clothes.
You climbed onto his lap, straddling him, your naked body pressed against his clothed form. You loved the contrast, it was so hot.
You unbuttoned his shirt and pushed it off his shoulders, exposing his muscular chest. His skin was warm and flushed, your hands exploring the expanse.
You kissed his neck, then his collarbone, moving off his lap as you kissed lower. You undid a button, then pressed your lips to his stomach, his muscles twitching, a low groan escaping him.
You knelt in front of him, kissing his erection through the material of his pants. You unbuckled his belt and pulled the zipper down, freeing his cock. You stroked him slowly, and took the head of his cock into your mouth, swirling your tongue.
His head fell back, and his hand tangled into your hair, pulling slightly. You moaned and took more of his length into your mouth, working your hand along the shaft.
"You have the sweetest lips," Elijah groaned, watching the way your mouth wrapped around him.
You pulled back, a string of saliva and precum connecting you to him. You licked up his shaft, your eyes locked with his, and then took his entire cock into your mouth, the tip hitting the back of your throat.
You could tell he was trying to control himself, his breathing was fast and ragged, and his muscles were taut.
You loved hearing him moan, seeing him lose his composure. Sex was one of the few things that could get him to break his stoic facade. He was always such a perfect gentleman and seeing him unravel was a thrill.
He was getting close, you could feel his cock twitching in your mouth, the strained, breathy groans he was making, his hand tightening in your hair.
His phone began to vibrate, and he glanced at it, then dismissed the call. You looked up at him, toying the head of his cock between your lips.
"Don't you need to get that?" You teased, flicking your tongue across the tip.
He shook his head, and his face slowly turned into a grin, his dimples appearing.
"Not right now," He said, his thumb grazing your bottom lip, all swollen and shiny from sucking his cock.
You went back to work, sliding your lips up and down his shaft, your tongue teasing him. Elijah's fingers dug into your scalp, a hiss escaping his lips.
His phone started vibrating again, and he glanced down, his brows furrowing. He picked up his phone and answered it, his eyes fixed on you.
"Yes?" He said, so composed and serious it made you feel like you were doing a bad job.
You took it as a challenge and took his entire length into your mouth, sliding down to the base, then slowly back up. His eyes widened, and he had to bite his lip to keep from making any noise.
"Where?" He asked, his voice sounding strained.
You giggled, and slid your lips down again, bobbing your head quickly, making obscene slurping sounds.
"Yes, I see," He replied, his hand moving from your head, down your back.
He was trying not to react, but you knew how to break him. You moaned, his cock still in your mouth, the vibrations sending jolts of pleasure through his body.
"No, I'm not available until tomorrow," Elijah said, his jaw clenching.
You kept your pace, and could see the frustration building. Your eyes met his, and you smiled, knowing that you had him just where you wanted him.
"Of course, goodbye," He finished, his hand hanging up the phone and throwing it on the couch.
"Miss-," He started, his tone strained and his chest heaving, Panting and moaning as you sucked his cock.
You let out a soft hum as you watched him unravel. A string of unintelligible curse words fell from his lips, some you swore were in other languages. His eyes screwed shut and his head fell back against the sofa, his hips thrusting forward, and then his release hit him.
He came with a low, strangled groan, and you swallowed every last drop. You continued to lick and suck his cock until his grip loosened and his breathing returned to normal.
You pulled away, his cock slick and shiny, his eyes heavy and his face flush. He looked down at you, swiping his thumb across your lips, then his hand moved to your neck, squeezing gently.
"Good girl," He said softly, his fingers curling around the back of your neck.
You felt your cheeks grow warm from his praise, and a smile played at your lips. The way he looked at you made you feel something deep in your core, something warm and pleasant.
His fingers tangled in your hair and he gently pulled you up and onto his lap. He kissed you softly, his hands moving down your sides, tracing the curve of your waist down to your ass. He grabbed it firmly, squeezing the soft flesh.
He pushed your panties to the side, his fingers slipping between your thighs, teasing you.
"You're so wet, did sucking my cock turn you on?" He murmured, his finger circling your clit, making you shiver.
"Yes," You panted, your hips grinding against his finger.
His fingers moved lower, finding your opening. He teased you, pressing the tip of his finger against you, and then slowly pushing it in.
Your hands gripped his shoulders, your nails digging into his flesh as you ground yourself against him, moaning and gasping.
He grabbed the back of your neck with his free hand, pulling you into a kiss, his lips rough and hungry. You kissed him back with the same fervor, your tongues moving together.
He removed his fingers from you, and you let out a soft whimper. Your eyes fluttered open, a pout on your lips, making him chuckle. He brought his hand up and wrapped it around your neck, squeezing gently.
"Such a needy little thing, aren't you," He cooed, his eyes narrowing slightly, the slightest hint of a grin on his lips.
He tightened his grip and you felt the rush of pleasure from the lack of air. Your hips moved slowly, grinding against him, seeking release. You whimpered and dug your nails into his skin.
"You look so beautiful when you're desperate," He whispered, his voice low and raspy.
"Elijah, please," You moaned, your voice breathy and quiet.
"Ride my cock, show me what a good girl you are," He ordered, his grip loosening from around your neck.
You moved up off your knees, planting your feet on either side of him on the sofa, hovering just above him. Your eyes locked with his as you reached between you and grabbed his cock, giving it a few strokes before lining him up with your entrance.
Your breath hitched as you slowly eased down on his cock. His hand squeezed your throat, holding you steady. Your eyes rolled back as he stretched you.
"Look at me," Elijah demanded, his voice low.
You forced your eyes to meet his. His expression was calm, but the fire in his eyes burned so hot you were surprised you didn't combust. You couldn't break eye contact as you began to bounce.
He groaned, enjoying the view of your desperate face as you tried to fuck yourself on his cock. He held you steady by your throat, his thumb brushing back and forth along the side of your neck.
You looked so good in his lap, your breast bouncing, your face contorted with pleasure. He could watch you fuck yourself on his cock all night long, your eyes pleading, begging for more.
His free hand came down and smacked your ass. The sound was loud in the silent apartment, making you yelp. You frowned at him, your hips faltering, but it only made him grin. He smacked your ass again, and this time you moaned.
"You can do better than that, Miss Salvatore," He said, his tone dripping with condescension.
"Fuck you," You hissed, glaring at him.
"Language," He said firmly, smacking your ass once more, eliciting a squeal.
You began moving faster than any human could, using your vampiric abilities to increase your pace. He watched your eyes close as your pleasure began to build. Your lips were parted slightly, letting out soft squeaks every time you took him all the way.
"That's it," Elijah urged, his hands gripping your waist, helping guide you on his cock.
Your movements started to get more erratic, and you began to pant. You let out a desperate whine, your brows furrowing in concentration, slamming down on him wildly.
He squeezed your throat a little tighter and you fell over the edge, your vision going white. Your nails scraped down his chest, leaving a bloody trail that healed instantly.
Elijah hissed through clenched teeth from the pain and pleasure, your cunt squeezing him like a vice as you came.
He let go of your throat, letting you fall forward, your head resting on his shoulder, nuzzling his neck, planting kisses on his skin. He took your chin, guiding you into a kiss.
He kissed you slowly, then wrapped your legs around his hips and stood up. He carried you down the short hall to the bedroom, then laid you on the bed.
He stood, removing his remaining clothes and admiring how gorgeous you looked in his bed. Your eyes were filled with lust and longing, your lips were swollen from his kisses and you were blushing all the way down your chest.
He leaned down and kissed your breasts, his hands moving under you, lifting you slightly to get better access to them. His tongue swirled around your nipple, his lips sucking it between them, then he moved to the other breast, giving it the same attention.
He moved back up and captured your mouth with his, kissing you deeply. His hair ticked your face, and you ran your fingers through it, loving the feeling of it.
He smiled down at you, brushing the hair from your face, and then kissed you again, this time soft and sweet. You returned the kiss, smiling against his lips.
His hands moved down your sides, stopping at your hips. His eyes met yours, a glint of mischief in them, then he quickly flipped you over, making you gasp.
He positioned you on all fours, your head buried in the bed. His hands grabbed your hips, pulling you back and up, exposing your ass to him.
"Mm, that's a nice view," He commented, running his hand over the swell of your ass, giving it a squeeze.
"Are you just going to admire it or are you gonna fuck me?" You asked impatiently, looking back at him, you pushed back against him, eager to feel him inside you again.
He grinned and gave your ass a light smack. He leaned over your, pressing your head into the pillow, his lips grazing your ear.
"Do your brothers know how much of a whore you are?" He taunted, kissing along the back of your neck.
You were offended by his remark, you didn't expect those words to come out of his mouth. You gave him a scathing look and tried to move away from him.
He chuckled and grabbed your hips, pulling you back against him. His hand tangled in your hair, tugging your head back so you were looking up at him.
"My apologies, Miss Salvatore," He said sarcastically, a dark chuckle rumbling in his chest. "Is that too crass for you?"
You narrowed your eyes at him, and he leaned down and kissed you. It was a soft kiss, his lips barely brushing against yours, and then he deepened it, his tongue sliding into your mouth.
His hips were pressed into you, his hard cock resting between your ass cheeks. You pushed back against him, grinding against his erection, causing him to groan.
He broke the kiss, his hand still holding your hair, and straightened up. He looked down and guided his cock into you, pushing slowly, his grip on your hair tightening as he eased all the way in.
You let out a breathy moan as he set a slow pace, fucking you with long, deep strokes. You rocked back against him, trying to match his rhythm, but he had you at his complete mercy.
"Faster," You begged, looking back at him, biting your lip.
He gave a small shake of his head, a smirk playing at his lips. He let go of your hair, and you buried your face in the sheets, letting out a muffled whine.
You tried to pick up the pace, pushing back harder, but his hand came down, smacking your ass, causing you to squeal.
"Did I say you could do that?" Elijah chided, his hand caressing the stinging skin.
You turned your head and glared at him, but remained still, letting him fuck you however he wanted. His hands gripped your hips, his fingers digging in, and his thrusts sped up.
Elijah admired the way your dark hair cascaded down your back, the way the muscles in your shoulders tensed up, and the way the skin of your back shined with sweat. When your bright blue eyes looked at him with such a desperate pleading, he couldn't help but let his control falter a little bit.
He gripped your hips tighter and began to pound into you. He leaned forward, caging you under him, his lips brushing your ear. You panted and moaned, clawing at the sheets as he slammed into your mercilessly.
He kissed the crook of your neck and across your shoulder, then up to your ear, biting down on your earlobe.
"Are you going to come for me?" He whispered.
You nodded, your eyes closed, completely lost in pleasure. You felt it building inside of you, and the way he was groaning, his hot breath on your ear, his chest pressed against your back, it was all too much.
Your body went rigid, your mouth opening in a silent moan. The wave crashed over you, and the tension left your body.
His release followed, a long, low groan escaping his lips. You felt him spill inside of you, his hips stuttering, and his cock pulsing.
He collapsed beside you, his arms draped above his head, he had a big toothy grin on his face that you had never seen before.
"You seem awfully happy," You teased, resting your head on his chest, kissing his collarbone.
"It has been a long time since I've had the opportunity to enjoy myself so thoroughly," He replied, stroking your hair.
"Glad I could help," You teased, smiling up at him.
He leaned down and kissed the tip of your nose, making you giggle. His hands moved to your back, rubbing slow circles.
"What was that phone call about?" you asked after a few minutes, looking up at him, your head resting on his chest.
Elijah's body tensed slightly, and his hand moved down your back. "Nothing you need to worry about,"
"If I don't need to worry, why won't you tell me?" you pressed.
"Do I have to remind you of the rules again?" He asked, his tone teasing.
"No," you mumbled, lowering your gaze, a pang of guilt hitting you. "I'm sorry.... It's just.... I don't know," you buried your face in the crook of his neck, the feeling of his arms around you comforting.
You knew you were playing with fire, but in the afterglow of sex, your thoughts came tumbling out of you before you could stop yourself.
"I know we agreed, this was just going to be physical," you said slowly, looking up at him. "And that's okay... I just want...." You paused, biting your lip, and averting your gaze, feeling embarrassed. "I just want to get to know you a bit better,"
His hands went still on your back, and he sat up a bit, looking at you for a moment before he spoke. "Why?"
You shrugged, feeling foolish. "I just do,"
"There is no need to get to know me," Elijah replied, his tone more serious now, his expression unreadable. "Our arrangement has no strings attached, as per the rules."
"Do you really want that?" You mumbled, the question made you feel so vulnerable, you were not sure what he would say.
You held your breath as he looked at you, and then leaned in and kissed your cheek gently, his hand caressing your face.
"I want many things, but I can't have them all," He answered quietly.
For a moment he looked sad, almost remorseful. But you must have imagined it, he was composed once again, the wall he kept around himself now fully in place.
You looked down at his chest, unsure what to say. It felt like your heart was breaking. It was just sex. This wasn't a relationship. You both had rules for a reason. It wasn't supposed to be like this.
"But you can stay, if you'd like," He offered, there was a quiet vulnerability to his voice and a strange look in his eyes. You didn't know what it meant.
"I'd like that," You whispered, leaning in to kiss him softly. "But it isn't a good idea,"
"It's not," he agreed, his hands still rubbing your back.
"So, we shouldn't," You said, trying to convince yourself.
"No," He agreed, rolling the two of you over, so you were beneath him. "We shouldn't,"
He kissed you again, slow and sweet. His hands moved down your sides, tracing the curve of your hips.
"We shouldn't," You repeated, your hands sliding down his chest, resting on his stomach.
Neither of you were going to stop, both of you knew it. It wasn't a good idea, and you would regret it later, but right now, all you wanted was him.
The sound of the early morning birds woke you before the sun could. You had fallen asleep next to him, after he had worked every tense bit out of you, your body saitied and relaxed.
You rolled over to see him fast asleep next to you, his brows slightly furrowed, his lips parted. He seemed to be having an intense dream, perhaps even a nightmare. He mumbled something you couldn't understand and rolled onto his side.
A part of you wanted to wake him, to free him from whatever was haunting him. To kiss away the tension in his brow. To bring him back to a place of peace and comfort. To run your fingers through his hair, and feel him relax in your arms.
But you couldn't. You had work to do.
Carefully pulling away from him and climbing out of bed, you quickly dressed before you tiptoed down the hallway to the living room.
You did your best to be quiet, control your breathing, trying not to let fear overtake you. This was your opportunity, perhaps the only chance you would ever get, but the fear was so strong, your whole body was vibrating.
You glanced towards the bedroom, making sure he hadn't woken, and then walked towards the sofa. Bending down, you searched between the cushions until you found what you were looking for.
The moonstone.
It was surprisingly easy to slip it out of his pocket the night before, you had him so thoroughly distracted with his cock down your throat. Even a man like Elijah was susceptible to lust, and you played him like a fiddle.
Your fingers curled around the stone and you clutched it to your chest, it was smooth and oddly cold. It felt heavy in your palm, more than what it actually weighed.
You were doing the right thing, for your family, for your friends. So why did you feel so guilty?
This would be a betrayal. The rules you set together were important, you had to have rules to protect yourselves, so you could stay neutral. What you were doing wasn't neutral, and if he found out...
You let out a shaky breath and tucked the stone into your bra, before you slowly, and as calmly as you could, walked to the door.
But before you could reach the handle, the floor creaked, and the hair on the back of your neck stood on end.
"Miss Salvatore," Elijah said.
His tone was calm, but you could hear the underlying fury. You swallowed hard, unable to look at him, you stared at the door instead.
"Where are you going?" His voice sounded different. Dark. Dangerous.
You turned slowly to see him standing a few feet away. He was dressed, his suit immaculate as always, and his expression was stoic. The only thing out of place was his hair, which was mussed from sleep.
"Home," you managed to say, your voice sounding more confident than you felt.
"Really?" He asked, taking a step towards you.
Your instincts told you to run, that you were in danger. The predator had caught the prey, and was going to tear you apart. You subtly tried to reach for the door handle behind you, but you saw his dark eyes flicker to your hand.
His face broke out into a smile, his canines flashing, his eyes cold. He closed the distance between the two of you in the blink of an eye. One moment he was across the room, the next, his hands were wrapped around your throat, pinning you to the door.
His face was blank, and yet you could see something dark swirling behind his eyes. He had become an entirely different man than the one you had been with all night.
The pressure he had on your windpipe made your lungs burn. You clawed at his forearms, tears streaming down your cheeks as you gasped for air.
"Elijah," you managed to croak out, but there was no trace of sympathy in his eyes, they were cold, sharp and angry.
"Do you think I'm like one of those boys in the alleyway? That you could use me, and walk away with no consequences?" He growled, his fingers pressing even tighter.
"No-" You tried to choke out, your voice coming out barely more than a whisper. "Please..." You whimpered, feeling dizzy, the edges of your vision going black.
He let you fall to the ground in a heap, your knees hitting the hardwood floor with a painful crack. You took deep, rasping breaths, coughing and gasping. You looked up at him, your whole body trembling.
He was standing there, towering over you, his expression blank. There was nothing on his face that could indicate that he had been tenderly holding you hours earlier. No softness in his gaze.
He just held out his hand expectantly, the look on his face making it clear that you should obey.
Slowly, you pulled the stone from your bra and handed it to him. Your hand shook as you reached out, placing the stone in his palm. He curled his fingers around the stone and tucked it back into his pocket.
Your heart was pounding in your chest as you stared up at him in fear, was he going to torture you? Kill you? You were a fool to think you could ever outsmart him, to ever betray him.
You swallowed hard, and forced yourself to make eye contact. He reached down, his hand gripping your chin roughly, lifting you up, forcing you to your feet.
You felt his eyes searching yours, and the hand on your throat moved up, his thumb brushing your cheek. He brought his face close to yours, his lips ghosting over yours. It was equally intimidating and intimate.
"I thought we had an understanding," he said softly, his lips brushing against yours.
"We do," You whispered, unable to tear your eyes from his.
His thumb traced your lower lip, and then he kissed you. Softly and slowly, and you kissed him back, your tears mixing with his, and all you could taste was pain.
Then he released you and stepped away, his arm stretched in the direction of the front door.
"Leave," he said simply, looking away from you. "And if I see you again, I'll kill you,"
You were too shocked to move, and after a moment, he looked back at you, his gaze icy.
"Run along now, Miss Salvatore," he said, the threat clear in his voice.
You took one last look at him, before stumbling your way out the door. You raced out of the building, only stopping to breathe once you made it outside. You leaned against the cool brick of the building, tears streaming down your face, gasping for air, trying to get the taste of him out of your mouth.
The taste of him... the touch of him, his words... You could still feel them all over you, it felt like you would never escape them.
You felt guilt, shame and embarrassment. You were lucky he didn't rip your heart out of your chest. You put yourself in this foolish situation, and you paid the price.
This is what happens when you break the rules.
When you arrived home, all the lights were still on, but the house was eerily quiet. You wandered into the living room and saw Damon sitting on a lounge chair, casually sipping on a glass of bourbon, looking into the fireplace.
He didn't look at you, just continued staring into the flames. "Big night?"
You were not in the mood for a family lecture. You shrugged off your coat and draped it over the couch, running your fingers through your messy hair, trying to smooth it.
"Not really," You said, walking over to the liquor cart, pouring yourself a glass.
Damon looked up at you and he could immediately tell you were upset.
"Did someone hurt you?" He asked, his tone concerned.
"No one can hurt me, Damon," You snapped.
He looked at you, and raised his eyebrow. "You're sure about that?"
You looked away from him, unable to meet his gaze. Your relationship with Elijah was a secret, you weren't supposed to know each other, so you couldn't tell him. You wanted to come home with the moonstone in hand, to prove that you could help, to prove your worth, but you failed.
"Why do you care so much about who I fuck?" You shot back.
Damon laughed and set down his glass, shaking his head.
"I'm your big brother," he said, smiling.
"Stefan is my big brother too, " You said, crossing your arms. "And he minds his business,"
"Yes, well, that's Stefan for you," He said, a hint of bitterness to his voice.
You rolled your eyes and took a long sip of your drink, the vision of Elijah's cold expression flashed in your mind, but you quickly pushed it down. "Where is Stefan anyway?"
"He's on a lovely lakeside getaway with Elena," Damon answered, a hint of annoyance to his voice.
You suppressed the desire to tease him about how he said Elena's name, it was clear that he had feelings for her. When you first met Elena, you feared it was another Katherine situation, but she pleasantly surprised you, and she didn't seem interested in Damon in that way. At least not yet.
"Do you know about the deal she made with Elijah?" he asked.
"Deal?" You asked, your heart jumping a little at the mention of his name.
"In exchange for her staying put and willingly going to the slaughter, he will protect the rest of us from any enemy," Damon practically growled as he said it.
"She should have never made that deal," you said, shaking your head.
"Thank you! I feel like I'm the only one who isn't insane around here," He groaned.
"She should have known better, but what's done is done," You sighed, taking a sip of your drink, wishing it was blood instead.
"You know, if you had been around, you could have talked some sense into her," he muttered, glaring at you.
"Don't," You snapped, giving him a warning look.
"Don't what?"
"Blame me, Damon," You said, your tone firm.
"What have you been doing for the last month? You are gone all the time, and the rest of the time, you are completely checked out," He accused.
You went to argue, to confess, and yet, you couldn't. It was none of his business, and besides, what would you even say? You’ve been fucking Elijah and then tried to steal from him? That you are heartbroken and foolish? That you are a coward?
"You're right, I'm sorry," You said quietly. "I've just been trying to... figure some stuff out,"
He studied you for a moment and then gave a short nod.
"Fine," he said, his voice softer now. "I get it,"
You went over to sit next to him on the sofa. What you needed in that moment was honest affection, someone who wasn't judging or asking questions. Damon wasn't exactly a warm and fuzzy type, but he would hold you when you were sad, and that's all you needed.
"You're a good big brother," You said, leaning against him, resting your head on his shoulder. "I'm sorry I've been distant,"
He wrapped his arm around you, and held you against him. "It's ok,"
You both sat in silence for a few moments, and you closed your eyes, trying not to think about the events of the night, the taste of Elijah still lingering on your tongue. The feeling of his hand wrapped around your neck… The fear you had felt.
"So, tell me about the boy," He teased, pulling you out of your thoughts.
"What?" You asked, your eyes snapping open.
"Oh, come on," He chuckled.
"It's over," You sighed, taking another sip.
"That bad, huh?" He asked.
"It's for the best," You mumbled.
"Do you need me to take care of him?" Damon offered, his voice serious.
"No, he didn't do anything wrong," You sighed, finishing the rest of your drink. "It was just... complicated,"
"I know a little bit about that," Damon mumbled, his mind clearly elsewhere.
"Elena?" You asked, raising an eyebrow.
"Shut up," He whined, pushing you off of him, making you laugh.
You contemplated just going to bed, but you decided to stay up with Damon. He would never admit it, but he was lonely, and so were you. You needed someone to ground you, and the two of you could always find comfort in each other.
"How can I help?' You asked, turning your body to face him, tucking your legs under you.
He raised an eyebrow. "You want to help me?"
"Yes, I need to feel useful," You laughed.
"Well, maybe I have a couple things you could do," He said, his eyes lighting up, which usually meant he had something devious planned.
"What is it?" You asked.
"Just a bit of catering, I’ll leave you in charge of picking out the wine..." He trailed off, looking thoughtful.
"What?" You asked, raising an eyebrow.
"I may have a weapon stashed away that could take out an Original," he said, smirking at you.
"From who? How?..." You shook your head, trying to wrap your mind around what he was saying.
"Don't worry about it," He chuckled.
"But, I thought-"
"Yes, yes, the deal Elena made with Elijah. We need a backup plan. I'm not going to wait around for her to be killed," He said, shaking his head.
"What does Stefan think?" You asked.
"What do you think he thinks? He's in denial, of course," He sighed, rolling his eyes.
"So what's your plan? Why does it involve wine?" You asked.
"Because it's a party, silly," he smiled, looking far too excited about murder.
"So, we're going to invite Elijah over, and kill him?"
"Yeah, pretty much," he said casually.
You tried not to think of the way Elijah touched you, his soft, tender kisses. Now all you could see was the look in his eyes when he found out that you betrayed him. The hurt and anger in his eyes... And his threat that you knew he would make good on.
If I see you again, I'll kill you.
"Is it even possible?" You asked, not quite meeting his eyes.
"Possible?" Damon scoffed. "We'll make it happen,"
You gave him a small nod and a smile, trying to show confidence. "Ok..."
He smiled and patted your leg, before standing up.
"Get some sleep, little sister. Tomorrow is a big day, tomorrow we dine with the devil,"
{Part One} {Part Two}{Part Four}{Part Five}
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