#i have to run directly past him to get to the stairs

[goldenboywrites]

Whether Isaac knew it or not, his words were a knife aimed directly at Apollo’s heart. Because the life he had craved since he was a child, the life he clawed and dragged his way to, was not only his- but theirs. He had thought that what he and Isaac built, the friends that turned into family was theirs, but hearing him now, Apollo realized that it wasn’t theirs. It was his. He had no one to blame but himself because he assumed Isaac had wanted this, and he craved a found family the way Apollo always had. The four had spent most of their time at university and post-university together. Yeah, he had ignored the rift between Isaac and Cassio because he thought they would grow out of it, but looking at Isaac now, Apollo wasn’t sure about anything anymore. 

Apollo fought the instinct to step closer to Isaac, seeking out the familiarity and comfort his boyfriend gave him, but he knew the chances of him finding that from the other were slim. He forced himself to back away from Isaac but kept his gaze on the other man. It felt like something had fractured between them; the distance between them was so significant that Apollo feared it would swallow him whole. “I didn’t call them tonight, Isaac, fuck,” He said again as if that would make a difference. “When this happened, I ran to you. I fucking called you. And you can stand there and say it’s never just the two of us? Everything has been the two of us,” He spat out, crossing his arms over his chest. “This house, our life has been because you and I made it. Because I choose you, and I continue to choose you, but you have it so screwed up in your mind that I want him, and I have given you no reason to distrust me when it comes to Cassio.” 

He shook his head. Leaning his hip against the counter, he broke his gaze to look out the kitchen window, biting the inside of his cheek to keep himself in check. “I thought this was ours, too. I thought this was the family we chose, and maybe that was my mistake, thinking you were choosing them too; I guess it was just me the whole time.” Some leftover fucked up desperation to have a family because he hadn’t grown up with a good one. How silly of him to think he could have this. Apollo inhaled sharply, looking down and rubbing at his eyes with the heel of his palm. “Yeah, um,” He felt the thickness in his throat, his skin twitching with the suffocating need to run. “I think I will call her and see if she’s available.” He kicked off the counter and walked towards the kitchen door, stopping just before it, his hand on the doorknob. “I think it’s best if I…” He swallowed, the words choking in his throat, “I think I’ll take Theodore to her house and stay there while I track down Alexandria. Oliver is probably already in love with him by now, and I wouldn’t want my friends to bother you in your house if they want to see him.” Apollo pushed open the door and forced himself through it. “Give me ten minutes, and I’ll get everyone out of your hair.” 

Apollo walked down the hall, stopping to check in on everyone in the living room. “Theodore,” He called out and was greeted with the wildest smile he had ever seen awhile Apollo was still weary of the situation, it was hard not to remain distrusting around the kid. “Start cleaning up your toys.” This was met with a groan and a soft, but we’re playing whine. Apollo glanced at Cassio; the blonde was searching his face for something, and Apollo knew he would find it. He always could, even when they were kids. “I don’t want to ask again,” Apollo said, continuing past the living room and up the stairs to the bedroom. He couldn’t stay there while Cassio tried to decode the emotions he was attempting, and failing, to bite back. 

He moved swiftly through the bedroom, grabbing his phone from the nightstand and thumbing through his contacts. The call connected as he pulled a duffel bag from the closet. “My favorite brother,” the voice purred as Apollo riffled through his dresser drawers, pulling out clothes. 

“Your only brother. I need a favor..” __________ After Apollo had come through the living room barking orders and looking two steps away from losing his shit, Oliver had expected Isaac to leave the kitchen too. So far, he hadn’t. He shared a glance with his boyfriend, raising a brow at the blond. “What should we do?” He whispered, leaning his head on the blond’s shoulder. Theodore started begrudgingly packing his toys back into the boxes and bags. “Should we even do anything?” He slipped his hand into Cassio’s, squeezing his fingers lightly. “Maybe we should just sneak out now and pretend we didn’t witness any of this.” But he knew he couldn’t leave Apollo or Isaac in such a state, especially when it was probably his fault for inviting himself over without warning. It was just Oliver loved them both so much, and now there was Theodore. “Maybe we should steal Theodore and run, raise him as own our.” He looked at the boy, then back at the kitchen door. It was still silent. “I’ll follow your lead, babe. Just tell me what you think we should do.”

Isaac closed his eyes and just let everything happen. He let Apollo pull him to him and try to console him. He stood quietly and listened to the sweet words that came out of his mouth again. Because this wasn't the first time this sort of conversation had been had. And at this rate, it surely wasn't to be the last. He'd made his peace with that. For whatever reason, with Apollo came Cassio and by extension, Oliver. The last of them being his particular favorite at that moment. He was at least doing something productive. Like keeping the pair of them the hell away from one another. He slowly breathed in and allowed parts of himself to relax and mold in against Apollo. Whatever that was, was going to have to wait. There was still a child that called priority over all.

"I don' wan' ya ta teach me." He said after a few moments, blinking back the sting of a few tears that wished to be released from the well. Isaac sniffled them back and moved to pat Apollo on his back gently, smoothing over the fabric of his shirt. There'd been a time or two he'd wished he was more like his kind and didn't care all that much about free will. It certainly would have made his life easier, especially after meeting this particular Maddox sibling. "I wan' for once ta jus' figure somethin' ou' wi'h jus' us. I ge' tha' maybe this is a bi' differen'." He paused, pulling back to look at him just then. He did his very best to keep his features neutral because like it or not, there was still company that was more than likely able to hear some of what was being said. "Sometimes i' feels li'e there's no' jus' two of us in this."

Before he could really feel the weight of what he said, Isaac pulled from Apollo's arms and moved to the sink. He flipped the tap on, cupping his hands underneath to splash some water on his face. He stood hunched over the sink and drummed his fingers along the basin. "Maybe you should ha'e called ya sista." His head craned around and tried to ignore the look on Apollo's face. If they were going to have a house full then so be it. "'f he recognized the two o' them then I'd be willin' ta bet he migh' her too." He shrugged and folded his arms over his chest. "Maybe she can fin' his mum o' someone tha' migh' know mo'e than we can fin'."

_______________________

Cassio stood back with his shoulder pressed against the door frame watching Oliver with the boy. He hadn't expected to care so much about a child he knew nothing about but to see Oliver with him, well. He heard the voices coming from the kitchen and stepped inside to stand just behind one of the armchairs as he surveyed the pair of them closer. He clearly didn't understand what the problem was between him and Isaac. Cass had never advanced on Apollo in their time together and they hadn't for some time before that. Especially not when Oliver had come into his life. Jealousy was one thing but whatever that was, Isaac was the only one feeling it. He'd thought to ask Apollo but he also didn't want to put him in an awkward position. Leave it to him to find a male veela that not only didn't have a colony but one with a very nasty disposition when it came to his lover. Naturally.

The blond shook his head and came to join the pair on the floor. "Yeah, his birthday was pretty fun." He chimed in, reaching out to take one of the weird and colorful contraptions Oliver had bought for him. He smiled at how crazy it looked back attempted to make it do ... something. He was really trying to understand where this kid could have come from. The way he spoke about them sounded almost like he'd taken memories from them directly. He sighed and finally gave up on the toy he'd had which made the little boy laugh. He really liked that. How innocent this boy was. It made him want to protect him, if for no other reason than he could understand that vulnerability.

But he also wanted to test that theory. He had a memory of just Apollo and himself that was hold enough and insignificant enough to not totally throw Oliver off but Apollo's worry was getting the better of him. Maybe that's why he hates me. "I was thinking about asking your dad if he wanted to go back to that one spring we found out at your grandparent's house." He smiled and moved to take another toy, this one was a bit more managable. The little boy looked at him and he sighed so loudly just to be dramatic. "The one way out past the garden. The one your aunt really, really loves." He smiled and leaned in to nudge him gently. "I'll ask him if we can take you again. I won't throw you in like that again. I promise."

[temporary-joyride]

NOBODY TOLD ME THE REAPER WAS GONNA CLIMB THE FUCKING STAIRS

[tmwcs]

Little Red Riding Hood - Finale.

Pairings: Jake and fem!y/n

Warnings: Werewolf Jake (should already tell you). Knotting, noncon/subcon smut, cnc (both rough and light), oral (fem receiving), smut, breeding kink, detailed smut, hints of murder, kidnapping yandere love.

Authors note: here we go part two (finale) of RRH. Again this is not proofread but I don’t think that matters. Enjoy!

Taglist: @strxwbloody @nshmrarki @aquariushiiiii @addictedtohobi @nuriicata @lilyuwon

You dropped the picture and quickly made your way back to the car. The driver was still nowhere in sight, which may have been in your favor considering the evidence discovered. You quickly turn the car around, figuring the best and quickest way to notify the authorities was to head back. Pulling up, you park the car in the driveway and rush inside. You picked up the phone and dialed the police, but the line was silent. You frantically dialed a series of numbers before slamming the phone back down. You rushed to the nearest neighbor and knocked on the door and carried over to the windows once you realized that no one was home. House to house, you knocked on every door in sight and still, no one was around–the entire neighborhood was empty. The moment seized you as you realized you were all alone. Discomfort rid you of all your calmness and you run back inside your grandmother's house, praying that she would return any second. You went up the stairs and tried the telephone in the master bedroom, but the line remained dead. “Shit!”

Your tenacity takes over as you continue to try dialing a series of phone numbers hoping that one of them would go through. Just as you were re-dialing your parents home phone, a creak from behind bolts a shiver down your spine. The door behind was opening. Your breaths begin to shutter as the realization hit that you were not alone inside the house. You froze—unable to turn as the rhythm of fear and anxiety stills you. You couldn’t even say a word or scream at this point.

You remained still. Too frightened to even be curious as to who was behind staring at you. “G-grandma?” You trembled, hoping to high hopes that you would get a response in her voice.

Slowly, you pivot on the heel of your foot and simultaneously lower the phone as you come face to face with the man across the room. Somehow, you were in disbelief even with him staring directly at you. Tears begin to form as you feel all sense of hopelessness. You frown hysterically as you watched a smirk appear on that handsome face. “J-Jake?—Wha-what are you doing here?”

A thousand questions riddle in your brain. A few teardrops turned into a river flow of sobs as you bestowed a pleading countenance. The blood curdling scream didn’t escape past your pursed lips until you dropped the phone, which is when he decided to strike at you. His movements were fast—too fast. He moved like a flash of light. Despite his rough handling, you got the hint that he didn’t have any intentions in hurting you—at least not that you could see for now. He shoved you over the old console table that was stationed in front of the large floor mirror propped in the corner of the room. “My poor girl. He gave you such a hard time, didn’t he?”

You furrowed your brows in confusion as he pinned your toned against the flat surface of the table. You turn your head to look back, expressing your bewildered state. You couldn’t even speak. The smile that permanently etched his face caught you off guard as he grinds his pelvis against your rear end. “Don’t worry. Daddy took care of him.”

You panic as you hear his words echo against the bedroom walls. Immediately, you realize his unlawful intentions as he shoves himself against you, reaching around touching you. “S-stop!”

He chuckles at your demand and sucks in your neck. “Tasty. You smell good too.” His leathered gloved hands trail upward and tugs on your dress, ripping it with ease. “Stop! Don’t!”

Reaching around your face, he cups your jaw and turns your face towards his. “You don’t really want me to stop, do you?”

Whether it was that smooth voice or his handsome gaze, somehow you lost your composure to express your displeasure. You froze, and so did your voice. He chuckles once more before sealing your lips in a deep and tender kiss. Breaking contact, his skin brushes against you as he whispers, “nah, didn’t think so.”

The tearing of whatever remained from your dress had you crying, yet his touch and kisses made you moan. You were conflicted between fear, despair, and pleasure. The more he kept doing, the more it had put you in turmoil. Especially when he kept huffing under his breath, telling you things that made your mind travel in circles.

Fuck, you smell so good. Your skin is so smooth. You’re mine. All fucking mine.

By the time he had you completely stripped, with only the small bit of tatters loosely draping your body, you caved in. The way his fingers moved and delicately tapped against your clit made you see stars. He was so good at it, no one could possibly blame you for how you reacted. “Yeah, baby? You fucking like that, hmm? Want me to eat you?” He whispers vigorously against your ear, further causing you to spiral downhill. “My pretty Red Riding Hood…let me take care of you. Fuck. Let me own you.”

Keeping his palm flat against your lower back, he presses down and stabilizes you. You remained still, knowing by his grip and aura that any movement would only result in chaos. Also, you found yourself not wanting to admit it, but you didn’t want to. With the way the tip of his nose trails down your spine and along the curve of your derrière, you found yourself craving more. The moment his nose grazed over your plush lips and exposed clit, your fingernails dig into the table. Your moans grow louder as he presses your cheeks together, keeping your thighs closed before he starts flickering his tongue at your womanhood. “Mmph! Stop! Fuck! Please stop!” You help out. Pleasure hits you like a bolt of lightning as you remain in denial. He doesn’t entertain in responding, instead he continues to emit long strokes of his tongue. The flat surface completely wipes you clean of your juices as he slowly licks from top to bottom, finishing off each swipe with the tip of it playfully digging into your nub. He did it so tenderly and smoothly, it was painful. “P-please!” You help as you slam your hands against the wood surface, yearning for more as he edges you on. The moment that caused your eyes to roll back was when he shoved his nose and mouth against the warm center and snarls. Chuckling deeply against your vulnerable spot made you feel things you never knew existed. “Oh! Oh my God! What are you doing to me—“

He chuckles once more, this time it nearly made you lose balance as your legs trembled. You found it hard to stand even with the support of the table under you. “Please—“

He snarls against your clit once more. “Yeah pretty girl?” His tongue pelts against your clit numerous times. In between he whispers in that accent of his. “Tell me you’ll be mine. Tell me you’ll be loyal.” He finishes off each demand with a squeezing kiss on your wet clit. Your breath hitches as you choke out each moan. “Hmm?” He mumbles while sucking on to your womanhood. Giving in, you nod hysterically as the tear drops fall before you, decorating the mahogany finish.

The sound of his belt unbuckling, his zipper coming undone, and his shirt being discarded had your heartbeat come to a pause. Half naked, his trousers loosely remain on as he brings out the gift of his build. You didn’t see it, even looking at the mirror in front. But the way he dragged it against the lining of your vaginal opening made you well aware that he was large. The tip alone was wider than your wrist. You shivered under his palm as you felt him breaching your entry. “Shh-sh-sh-shh.”

His shushing does nothing to clam you. The second he pokes in, you squirmed with regret. You shout out of how you changed your mind and that you wanted him to stop, but he pays no mind and keeps entering. The friction alone was enough to cause you to faint, but when he found himself half way in he scoffs. “Almost there.”

Your eyes enlarge. How could he still have more length to push in? There was no way you would be able to survive, he was already so deep. You try to push back and do everything you could to escape, but it was no use. With him hunched over your backside, pinning your wrists to the table, he coos you by whispering into your ear as you were forced to take in inch after inch. Finally, with the tip felt in the deepest part of you, he calmly stroked your hair as he guides you to breathe. You pant under the pressure of being stretched and torn open, yet he continues to be calm despite how tight your walls hugged him. “Breathe baby, breathe. That’s it. Aww…that’s my girl.”

You do exactly as he instructed, feeling some sort of relief as he begins to pull out. Yet when he has all but the tip nestled inside you, he jams it back in mercilessly. You scream out as your head jolts up. He keeps you steady as he pinches his grip against your waist and holds you in place as he makes you take in every single thrust. His hips move back and forth, stalling into you. Skin on skin, the slapping movements echo in the room, doing something to your mind as the thought of him doing the most unspeakable matches with the rhythm. It sends a tingle to your core and before you know it, your body responds by aiding him in his resolve. “Yeah that’s it. Get wet for me baby. Makes it easier for me to fuck you.”

He goes in deeper with each thrust, punching a soft spot that causes you to gush. It coats his lengthy muscle, making it more slick as he finds it easier to fuck into you. You pant and moan in satisfaction, yearning for more as he shoved the combined efforts of sweat and squalene back inside you, mixed with his precum. His pace picks up faster and faster, when suddenly he pauses as he buries his cock deep inside. You look up in the mirror, shaking and pitifully murmuring out with a pleading tone. “P-please…not inside…”

His eyes shift from admiring your derrière to staring back at you through the mirror. He laughs handsomely as he notes how beautiful you look in your disheveled state, all within his grasp. “That’s not how this works, pretty girl. I told you…”

He stretches his neck from left to right, squinting his eyes shut as he expresses relief. “You’re mine.” His voice became deeper. His grip becomes tighter. There was shallow wind breezing through yet the windows remained closed. The curtain was open, revealing a full moon that shined against your skin. Dripping from his mouth, large amount of drool stains your backside as you watched through the mirror. Something unruly was happening. Something abominable.

You tried to move away and release yourself from his grasp but the pain of his claws digging into you restrains you. They grew longer and his hair grew shaggy. His face morphs into something unreal as you watched in horror of the final product. He was jet black all around with ears that resembled the devil's horns. They were propped and sitting atop his large head, which resembled a wolf. His stature maintained a humanoid structure, defined by lean muscles and a combination of soft fur and smooth skin. You wiggle in pain as you feel his throbbing member swelling inside you. “Ah! Stop! Let go! What’s happening!?”

A clawed hand shoots up and around, covering your mouth. He suppresses your screams as he begins thrusting. This time, he truly was tearing into you as the shaft became terribly swollen and thick. His tip was even thicker. He picks up the pace and hits your spot multiple times, and your body betrays you once more as you felt yourself gaining pleasure mixed with pain each time he pushes into you. Your screams become prolonged moans as you watched the creature pelt into you from behind through the grand mirror. His eyes never breaking eye contact with you.

He keeps going, compelled to destroy your walls as he squelches his massive length inside. You reach up and pitifully latch onto the monstrous hand that covers your moans. He keeps his hold, gaining leverage as he forces you to raise your head, arch your back, and prop your perky rear in the air—allowing him more access to breed you. You find yourself conflicted once more as the feeling of getting fucked into oblivion takes over and eradicates your better judgement. This monster—this creature…it’s not human. Nothing about him is. Yet you found yourself wanting him to keep going and to do more. You wanted him to do it over and over again.

Watching the creature thrusting into you with the thought of him giving it to you forever sent a burning sense of desire in your core. Your nerves heat up and your muscles tightened. Your womanhood becomes more lubricated each time he thrusts inside and suddenly you yelp out a high pitched moan into his palm as you feel yourself coming undone. With your walls pulsating against his cock, he picks up the pace and goes even faster. The sound of his inhuman form slapping against you only made things more intense as you felt yourself creaming around his circumference. At the very bitter end of your orgasm, you hazily watched under half closed lids as the monster buries himself deep inside you one final time and howls at the full moon. He was cumming inside you.

Panting ferociously with animalistic tendencies, he loosens his stance and leans over you, resting his weight against your backside. He was heavy and dense, but he made sure to not completely release his massive size on you, avoiding breaking your spine. He growls and pants against your ear. Despite being so primitive, his clawed hands cradle over yours as he sniffs and licks your ear. You shutter at the act as it felt no different than a dog. Still, his humanness shows through as he rubs his thumbs over the back of each hand, comforting you. You attempted to move but found yourself stuck. You’re not sure if you were entirely confused, pleased, or mortified, or maybe all of the above. He was swollen and stuck inside you. You couldn’t pull him away.

You realized that the act of breeding-tie was being conducted as his cock continued to deep out his cum deep inside you, swelling itself to remain in to ensure successful breeding. Perhaps it was giving up the fight, but realizing what he was doing didn’t cause you to cry or become mortified. Instead, you laid calmly and continued to take on the beast's pants against your skin. Is this what giving up felt like?

The breeding tie lasted for hours. Finally, after he had returned to his human form, the beast—or rather, Jake, took his clothes and quickly dressed himself. He took your grandmother's sheet and adorned you as if you were a goddess. With inhuman strength, he carried your limp body and stowed you in the backseat of his car. You heard the doors secure as he starts the ignition. You were so tired and lifeless—so work out from the unspeakable act carried out earlier, you didn’t have the energy to even speak. All you could do was look up and watch through the window, the glorious full moon peering form the night sky as he drives off. Occasionally, he reached behind his seat, gently caressing your face. With a soft chuckle, he would whisper “all mine.”

……..

“Where are you going sweetheart?”

You snap your head back, flashing a subtle smile. “Hm? Oh–i’m just going to this interview about the job at the local library. I’ll be back in an hour or two.”

Your dad raises a brow and takes a side glance over at the clock. “This late?”

“Mmhmm.” you respond as you slip on your shoe. “The interviewers gave out time slots, mine is at 4 pm.”

Your dad sighs. Reaching into his pocket, you hear the jingling of the key ring as he tosses them your way. “Take my car.”

You chuckle aloud. “Dad, I’ll be fine. I don’t want to worry about parking.” You attempt to return the keys back, but his insisting tone becomes more assertive as he explains about the recent happenings circulating the media reports. “Take my car–the library is ten miles out. I don't want you taking an uber either.” he looks at you sternly as he pushes your hand away, prohibiting you from giving back the key ring. “You know they still haven’t found that girl, right? The one who disappeared on her way to her grandmother’s house.”

You nod in response. “Yeah I know.”

He gingerly cups your cheek and softens his tone. “Take my car, it will put my mind at ease.”

You smile and nod. “Okay. thank you daddy.”

He wishes you luck as you exit the door. You set the address in the gps and maneuvered out of the long driveway and headed towards the main road, when suddenly your gps pops a notification, alerting you of traffic congesting the main road. Seeing that it would cause a delay, you decided to not risk missing out on the interview. You accept the recommended shortcut and follow the path which takes you on the backroad. Taking it easy, you maintain moderate speed. The overcrowding bush of trees surrounding the road accentuated the narrowness of the road, causing a slight sensation of uneasiness in your chest. At first you figured that you’d soon pierce through to the other side of town, when a heavy fog sets, thick enough to blot out the sunlight. You kept up with the route, figuring it would be best to turn around. Yet the absence of alternative pathways prevented you from doing so. The road became too small for you to do a u-turn without the risk of backing into the ditch that railed both sides of the route. Sticking to the route, you hoped that you would see light, or some other form of manmade feature. However, the deeper you went in, the more you felt yourself going away from modern civilization. There was no farmland, no street lights, buildings or houses–not even a single street sign.

The beeping from the dashboard notifies you of low gas. “Shit!” you whisper under your breath. You could have sworn that the tank was half full when you pulled out of the driveway. Checking your phone, you also noticed that your battery was at low percentage–too low. “What the hell?”

Strange, considering you were sure that the bar read at least forty percent when you left the house. You start to panic as you push through, when finally you see some lighting at a distance. “Oh my God! Finally.”

You pull up at the grand estate. The iron fence was tall and elegantly decorated by the blushing rose vine that was in full bloom. Fortunately the fence remained partially opened– looked to be by accident. Normally you knew better than to trespass so rudely, however, given the circumstance, this constituted an emergency. With no gas and a phone on the verge of dying, you needed help. Perhaps the owners would be understanding.

Your breath pauses as you pull further in and notice the enormous structure of the estate. It could hardly be called a mansion, considering that it resembled the palace of Versailles–both in size and aesthetic appeal. The gardens surrounding were well kept and the statues were pristine. “Wow…” you breathed out as you drove the car up to the front.

You walk up to the large entrance. Could someone possibly live here? You hoped that someone was inside, considering that this looked to be more of an establishment versus a home. The dim lighting gleaming through one of the windows up on what appeared to be the third floor gave you some hope. There wasn’t a doorbell, so you hoped that it was too intruding for using the heavy iron door knocker. It was large, and quite heavy, but you managed to admit three knocks as quietly and gently as possible. A few minutes went by and you wondered if it would be rude to admit three more, when suddenly the latch on the door begins to turn and the clicking sparks your relief.

You watch as the door opens and reveals an older gentleman, dressed elegantly in a suit with no jacket. Just a silk vest with a white button up paired with well pressed trousers. His shoes were of fine leather and shined without any blemish, and his hair neatly combed. “May I help you?”

You gulped at the tranquil tempo of his words as he spoke in a calm voice. “Um yes–I’m sorry to bother but I was wondering if you had a telephone I may use? My car ran out of gas and my phone is out of battery. I also seem to be lost.”

The gentleman, who appeared to be a butler of the estate, raised a brow as he darted his eyes between you and the car. “How did you manage to get here? You must be so far from home.” he questions, developing a concerned look as he waits for you to answer. You were confused, seeing as how you were only on the road for about twenty minutes, not at all too far from your parents house. “No, I live in town. I took a shortcut due to traffic.”

The elder man nodded. “I see.” He lets you in, and paves the way with his steady hand as he displays such courteous manners of respect and elegance. “Come in, please. I’m afraid we do not have a telephone, but you may stay a while to charge your cell-u-lar phone.”

It was no guess as to why this house wouldn’t have a telephone. At first it confused you, yet by the way he nearly spelled out the word “cellular”. If the owners were anything like this man, they were farther away from modernization than you could imagine. At least you were smart enough to have a charger and charging block with you. “Thank you.” you respond.

“Come with me, I’ll take you to a room where you can unwind and charge your phone. I’ll have madam bring you some tea.”

You thank the man. You felt overwhelmed by the sensational service he was providing, considering you weren’t an official guest. Following close by, you admired the grand features of the home. It was incredible. The architecture design was heavy on the traditional European taste, expressing the delicacy of mirrors, gold trimmings, crystal chandeliers, and arched hallways. The floor was made of glossy tile that was adorned by a fresh velvet rug that trailed the entire length of each area. You wanted to inquire more about the place but figured it would be too impeding since you were already intruding unannounced.

He halts abruptly, causing you to nearly bump into him. You were about to ask if everything was alright considering you both stood in the middle of the hallway. “Before we venture further, I must ask you to be as quiet as you can. My master is taking his nap, he must not be woken up. He gets…cranky.”

You chuckle softly, assuming the butler was referring to a child. “I understand. I know how children can be.” you spoke out presumptuously. The butler merely nodded and continued to lead you to a study. It was beautifully lavished with dark mahogany and velvet green accents with leather furnishings. A balcony presented black french doors that remained open to let the warm breeze in. “Wow…” you breathed out.

“There are outlets on each wall, you may use any one you like. Please have a seat and make yourself comfortable, madam will be in with some tea for you. Is there anything else you may need?”

You shake your head. “Oh no–thank you! You’re very nice. I will be fine, as soon as I am able to get a hold of my father I’ll be leaving. I am so sorry to bother you.” He remarks your gratitude with a small smirk. “It is not bothersome at all. It’s been many years since this household has received any guests, your presence is most welcome. Please let me know if there is anything else I can assist you with, and please remember…” he gently opens the door and looks back “about my master.”

You nod and assure that you will refrain from making any noise, and watch as the butler takes his leave.

Your phone starts to charge and you take a moment to look around the study. It was huge. Larger than most living rooms that you would find in common households, or even luxury ones. No doubt about it, this building puts the lifestyle of the rich and famous to shame. As you admired the beautiful wall trimming, you noticed a portrait on the next wall, mounted near the corner and across the magnificent desk. The large photo caught your eye as you closely admire the handsome man featured. Dressed well with beautiful auburn hair, his asiatic features stare deep into your soul as you breathe out. You’re not sure if you ever saw someone more attractive in your life. Since it was only a portrait, you wondered the effect this man would have had you met him in person, considering the photo alone was enough to make you weak in the knees.

You become lost in translation as you continue to stare at the framed piece when suddenly your phone rings loudly. “Shit!” you panicked as you raced across the room to shut off the ringing feature, completely forgetting that it was not on vibrate. It was your father calling. Afraid that the noise of your ringtone had awakened the baby, you answered and spoke quietly into the phone, cautiously looking at the door in hopes that the butler wouldn’t return upset over you waking his “master”.

“Hello? Daddy?” you answer and speak as quietly as you could, partially whispering as you cup around your mouth. Nothing but static on the other end. You peel your face away and look at the screen, only to find that there was no service. There was also no wifi. Great.

The visit to this luxury estate was a waste of time, and you tried to figure out the next step. Perhaps the butler has gas in one of the vehicles? Or maybe he can give you a ride to town?

You played around with your phone, waiting for the butler to return and seeking out a resolve to this predicament, when suddenly the corner of your eye catches on to something bright. It was warm and lightened the entire room. “What….what's that?” your tone expressed an enchanted curiosity as you leaned head in first, taking in the sight of a pedestal table with a large glass bell jar stationed at the center. It looked like a rose. The petals were made of fine crystal, appearing almost like large diamonds as they reflect a blush pink color, while the stem was made of pure gold and piqued its appeal. It dazzled, despite having no outside light to aid its glow.

Distracted by the lonesome ornament, you stood in awe. The bedazzling item had you in a hypnotic state that you remained unaware of the horned beast that lurked from the dark corner, admiring your gaze and posture. Another pretty treasure for him to keep inside a bell jar, or so it would appear. But this story will have to wait, for it is a tale as old as time…

[1427]

something to prove

Daryl Dixon x Reader

Summary: Every time your mom goes down to the city with Merle she lets Daryl stay behind and watch TV. The night your boyfriend breaks up with you, you decide you have something to prove. 

Warnings: Very vaguely implied drug use, age-gap (reader is 20, Daryl is mid30’s), smut, voyeurism/exhibitionism, masturbation (both m & f), idk there’s something else that happens but idk how to tag it (premature ejaculation???), preTWD!Daryl.

Word Count: 3k

A/n: this is a two part story, possibly three? This started out as a step-dad!daryl idea but I reworked it because not everyone’s as big of a pervert as I am. If anyone wants step-dad imagines (au or otherwise for Daryl, or Negan) lmk. 🥵😈

17+ mdni

\\part 2\\

masterlist

“Who are you?” You ask, to the man standing in your house. Well, your moms house, certainly wasn’t his house. He looked like one of your moms friends from the bar. 

“Shit, who are you?” He looks at you, more confused than you are. Scared almost. 

“Mona’s kid?” You explain, who else would you be? 

“Oh, shit. Didn’t know Mona had a kid. She just left you here?” You look at him like he’s still a stranger standing in your living room. 

“I’m 20.” You watch as he sighs a little in relief. 

“Right…. I’m Daryl. Uh. Her and my brother took a ride down to the city. Didn’t wanna go, she said I could hang here.” 

“Of course she did,” you say to yourself with a sigh. 

Daryl watches you as you run to the kitchen and grab a snack and run back toward the stairs, “Well. I’ll be in my room.” 

“Wait! Uh.. where’s the remote?” 

You sigh, with a smile this time, and step backward down the first step. You walk past him and dig your hand into the recliner that’s facing directly in front of the TV, pulling the remote from its hiding spot. As you walk back toward the stairs you put it to his stomach, and he takes it with both hands. “Thanks” you hear him say, and then you’re gone. Running up the stairs to lock yourself in your room. 

✨🚬

Daryl and Merle came over a lot after that. You didn’t see too much of them, when you’re mom had company you knew it was best to stay locked in your room. Not like you’d want to be around her company anyway. 

Daryl seemed different than Merle. Everytime you did venture out of your room for a snack, or to leave the house to go see your boyfriend, and you had to interact with things outside of your room, Daryl never spoke. Honestly, it seemed to you like he didn’t even want to be there. 

And every time your mom and Merle go down to the city, Daryl stays back and watches TV and smokes cigarettes in the living room. Never does anything else. 

You start developing a crush. And you know it’s insane because he’s so much older than you, but you can’t help it. You never thought you’d see someone older like that, but to be fair he didn’t look it. He definitely wasn’t as old as your mom. Probably mid 30’s? Probably. You couldn’t ask. And there was something about him. Brooding, quiet, but… safe. He never bothered you, never looked at you too long like most of your moms friends did. He seemed.. sweet. 

You start praying they’ll come over, and then you pray that your mom and Merle will leave. Sometimes they’re only gone for half an hour, sometimes they’re gone all night. No matter how long they’re gone, though, you always go down and see Daryl. 

You never really talk to him more than a few passing words, even when it becomes a more common occurrence. 

Obviously you try to look as good as you can when you do go down there to walk in front of him. You stand awkwardly by the kitchen island, pretending to watch tv, trying to say something. Usually you can’t come up with anything. 

You find yourself wearing more and more revealing clothing, trying to get him to look, but you never catch him looking. And, honestly? It frustrates you to no end. 

Why won’t he look? 

It’s starting to make you a little crazy, multiple times you’d had to stop yourself from coming down in just a towel.

And then your boyfriend breaks up with you. Probably better off, but the night that it happens you lose it. You’re not heartbroken necessarily, but you are pissed. And you feel like you have something to prove. And all of it bubbles up into something you normally would never see yourself doing. 

You come downstairs this time in only an oversized teeshirt. No underwear. Its dark, all the lights off, it is 2am, but for some reason you weren’t expecting it. It should make what you have planned even easier. Less awkward. 

Instead of going to the kitchen you walk right up to Daryl and put your hand out for the remote. “I wanna watch TV.” 

He looks up at you. Finally. And he hands you the remote. “Alrigh’.” 

You change the channel to something else, doesn’t matter what as long as it’s not what he was watching. You settle on an old movie, looked just boring enough. You lay down on your stomach in front of where Daryl sat in the armchair, your teeshirt riding just barely up your ass, just enough for Daryl to be distracted by it. To notice it. To ask himself if you weren’t wearing any underwear. 

You hear him take a deep breath from behind you and it makes you smile. Finally. 

And you stay like that for a while, absentmindedly looking at the TV, not really watching it. Daryl’s watching you through half lidded eyes. Before you’d come downstairs Daryl was a good five minutes from falling asleep in that arm-chair. But now? His heart hammering in his chest, he has to control his breathing in the quiet living room, to not tip you off that you were affecting him so much. He wasn’t sure what you were doing, or if you were even doing it on purpose. But you’re 20, right? Surely… he figures you have to know. 

But if you know what you’re doing, than you’re expecting some kind of reaction, and Daryl… can’t. He can’t move. He can hardly think straight. Looking at your bare legs, the little peak of your ass just barely revealing itself from under the fabric. And then you shift your hips and the tee-shirt falls away even more. 

It takes everything in him to keep his breathing steady. 

“Are you looking?” Your voice cuts through the silent room, making no attempt to turn back and look at him. 

“No.” Daryl says, quickly. His brain scrambling over the new information that you definitely, absolutely, undeniably knew what you were doing. 

You smile to yourself, the choked sound of his voice told you everything you needed to know. You can practically feel the heat in his cheeks. The tightness in his chest.  

You never thought you’d be as into it as you were getting. Him seeing you like this was burning up your core. Slowly at first and then seemingly all at once. You put your head to the floor in a small moment of defeat over your own body, feeling yourself start to drip down your leg. You wonder if he can see it too. If the light of the TV is reflecting off the little strings of your arousal, coating the inside of your thighs, starting to drip down onto the carpet. A small groan escapes your lips as you raise your hips up off the carpet, keeping your shoulders and the rest of your body down to the ground. 

You want to show him what he’s doing to you. You want him to see the mess he’d made. So there you are, your ass now completely in the air, only a few feet from where he’s sitting behind you, “Are you looking now?” 

This time Daryl doesn’t respond. Because he can’t. His fingers are whiteknuckled on the arm-rests. And he was losing the ability to control his breathing. He was losing control of the ability to even think about breathing. To think at all. 

You don’t mind that he didn’t answer, you knew. His ragged breathing spurred you further. You reach down underneath your body, through your legs, and try to spread yourself open for him with two delicate fingers. Your middle finger slipping through your folds, too slick to hold up to friction. Your hand wipes some of it down your thigh, so you can continue what you’re trying to do. 

And you can hear his breath hitch in his throat, making a smile bloom on your face. A sick, cocky smile. 

You spread yourself for him, before taking two fingers to your clit and drawing small circles around it. You hiss, your hips spasming at the too sensitive feeling of pressure directly on your nerve bundle, but you keep going. 

Plunging two fingers deep inside of you, selfishly. This one wasn’t for Daryl, although he liked it. You needed the delicious feeling of something inside of you. Your fingers hook in you, desperately curling over and over again as you mercilessly assault your own g-spot. 

The noises coming out of you could send Daryl into a coma. Not just the half-coherent babbles and deep definitely-came-from-your-chest groans. No, the sound of your slick hand squelching against your cunt so perfectly. 

You go back and forth like this, between your clit and your walls, until you feel your orgasm start to bubble over. The dull throb of ecstasy climbing into every limb. You almost forget Daryl’s watching as you put your fingers back inside you, three this time, and ride your own hand until your body is shaking, expletives falling out of your mouth before you can catch them. 

You lay there, on the floor in a heap, teaching yourself to breathe again. Until you glance back at Daryl. With one hand covering his mouth his expression is unreadable, but his other hand gripping the arm rest tells you everything. And the hard cock pressing up against the zipper of his pants tells even more. 

You’re almost embarrassed, but not quite. Standing up from the spot you’d laid down to ‘watch TV’ you silently walk over to him and wipe your hand off on his shirt. Pressing your fingers hard against his chest through the fabric, eliciting a barely audible moan from him.

He watches you walk away, listening as your bare feet pad up the steps and into your room. It takes him all of three seconds to free his cock from his jeans. Pumping himself furiously, unceremoniously, with his face buried in the spot of his shirt where you’d wiped your juices on him. 

The smell of you, the taste of you, so fresh and right there. He laps at the spot until it’s soaked with his saliva. He comes in a strangled mess, trying to be quiet, hot white ropes painting his jeans. 

After it’s over he curses himself. He leaves before Merle and your mom get back, to go home and change. Wondering to himself what the hell just happened. 

✨🚬

For a week you avoid him. He and Merle come over twice, but you stay in your room the whole time. A little too embarrassed to face him so soon after what you’d done. You didn’t regret it, or feel bad, but your normal personality had returned. With nothing more to prove to yourself, or your stupid ex boyfriend. Not bold enough to masturbate in front of older men. Apparently not even bold enough to show your face in front of him. 

You wake up one night in a sweat, having another dream about Daryl. In this one he’d had you bent over the kitchen table. Fuck it’s hot in here, you go to open the window but what you really need is water. 

You start to make your way downstairs, only to see Daryl. In the faint glow of the television, eyes wide as he meets yours. “Oh. Hi.” You manage to say, awkwardly standing on the last step before nodding at his lack of response, looking down trying to hide your blush.

 You walk to the kitchen silently, getting some water for yourself. Feeling unbelievably uncomfortable, you wanted to be clever. To be coy and cute and everything you were the other night, but the whole thing is making you so nervous you can’t think straight. You just want to get back upstairs before you say something stupid. Before you embarrass yourself by not being that person. 

You down a cup of water quickly and toss it into the sink before heading back for your room. 

You’re passing in front of the TV when Daryl asks you, “Do you want the remote?” 

One simple question, your head spins. You knew what he meant. What he was really saying. ‘Do it again’. 

You look over at him, remote on his knee, and you nod. Walking over to him, you pick up the remote from where it sat, but you let your fingers graze all the way up his leg, over the tight bulge in his pants. “Christ.” He says, through gritted teeth. 

You smile, that same cocky smile, and take your position down on the ground in front of him. You take your time, at first you really are watching TV. Letting Daryl ache for it. Letting him question if you understood what he’d meant. 

He’d been wondering when he was going to see you next, if you’d do it again. If you’d do more. He couldn’t stop thinking about it. It was definitely the hottest thing a girl had ever done for him. Not like he had all that much experience with women, but he had some. None of it quite like that. Nothing that was so burned into his memory that if he closed his eyes he could still taste you. Still hear those explicit noises coming off your body. 

He needed more. He needed to watch you again. 

He waits, with baited breath, for you to touch yourself. It feels like it’s taking forever. There’s something about you just down there in front of him, though. It feels like he’s almost able to get off on just that. 

Eventually you spread your legs a little bit at a time. Raising your hips again, you play with yourself in front of him like you did before, taking more time. Teasing him. 

You slide the top half of your body, flush with the ground, over to the side a little so you can look back at him. Fuck. He’s just staring. Mouth open, eyes half closed, fingers holding a cigarette that he occasionally drags. Just watching. Never taking his eyes off of you. Occasionally he looks back up to your face, all contorted in pleasure, but for the most part he can’t take his eyes off of what your fingers are doing. The light shimmering over every wet part of you. 

You sit up for just a second to bring the teeshirt off your body and throwing it to the side. Resuming your position, now completely naked. Vulnerable. You look at him with another smile, his expression is pained. 

Daryl’s trying so hard to keep himself in control. To not touch himself until you’re out of the room, that would be too much, right? He’s convinced himself that there’s no way he can pull his cock out in front of you. He’s so much older, even if you’re 20. Even if you’re in front of him, doing this. Pretty, delicate, messy pussy spread out for him. Begging for him. He can’t. He’s got to control himself. Plus, it’s too embarrassing. You’re so confident and languid with your movements, he’s sure if you saw him like the strangled mess he was the other night that you’d run out of the room immediatly. 

He’s wrong, but it doesn’t matter to you. Of course you want him, and of course you’d let him slither right in behind you and claim any hole he wanted. You would love to see him lose control and touch himself, even if it was something you’d never seen a man do before. Of course you would. But the feeling of his eyes burned into you is so exquisite on its own. 

Daryl’s losing his fucking mind, though. You’re doing it all different than last time. Slower, hotter. Grabbing at your tits with your other hand. Fuck. His head is dizzy, he feels like he’s going to pass the fuck out. And then you start riding your hand again. But not like last time, last time your fingers were hooked into you so tight that Daryl silently begged for you to just fuck yoursef with your fingers instead. He wanted to watch your lips spread out and over them. Wanted to watch you fill and empty your cunt with your two fingers over and over, and now that’s exactly what you’re doing. 

Daryl’s chewing on his thumb, anything to keep his hands away from himself. Every time you pump your fingers inside he feels his hardened length spasm. So tight into his pants, the friction actually starts to feel good. 

You add another finger, and then another. It’s too much for Daryl, who was again silently begging you to do that too. To stretch that little pussy even more for him. Before he can even comprehend what’s happening, his vision goes white. Daryl’s cock spasms violently, cum coating the inside of his pants. His thumb is bleeding from where he’d bit down on it, and he’s never been more fucking embarrassed in his life. Never been more surprised, confused, turned on. 

He watches as you ride out your high, following with your own earth shattering orgasm only a few moments later. He looks down to you to see if you had any idea of what had happened, but you don’t. 

You have no idea he just came in his pants without even touching himself. Just from watching you. 

pt 2

a/n : thanks to @norman-fucking-reedus for helping me with some ideassss for this 💕🤘🏻

[iamnmbr3]

Time to discuss drarry moment number 923074037286 in HBP. I think it's really notable how in the aftermath of Dumbledore's death Harry not only canonically doesn't feel angry at Draco at all despite feeling murderous rage towards Snape, but actually goes out of his way to recount events in a way that shifts blame away from Draco as much as possible.

First, Tonks asks how Dumbledore died and we get this bit:

"Snape killed him," said Harry. "I was there, I saw it. We arrived back on the Astronomy Tower because that's where the Mark was . . . Dumbledore was ill, he was weak, but I think he realized it was a trap when we heard footsteps running up the stairs. He immobilized me, I couldn't do anything, I was under the Invisibility Cloak -- and then Malfoy came through the door and disarmed him--" Hermione clapped her hands to her mouth and Ron groaned. Luna's mouth trembled. "-- more Death Eaters arrived -- and then Snape -- and Snape did it. The Avada Kedavra."

Harry says there was a trap but doesn't mention anything about it having been a trap planned and set by Draco.

He uses passive, distancing language that doesn't even make it clear whose footsteps they heard on the stairs or under what circumstances Draco disarmed Dumbledore.

He doesn't mention anything about Draco having been assigned to kill Dumbledore, and almost makes it sound like he could've just happened on them and disarmed Dumbledore as a reflex or even in self defense.

And then he doesn't say that Draco held Dumbledore there at bay for a while, instead leaving it ambiguous as to whether the other Death Eaters arrived right away on Draco's heels.

And that's it. That's all he says. He puts all the focus and blame on Snape. Only several pages later when McGonagall asks how the Death Eaters got in does Harry even explain about the Vanishing Cabinets. Specifically the text says:

[H]e explained, briefly, about the pair of Vanishing Cabinets and the magical pathway they formed.

Again we see the same passive, distancing language that we saw when Harry mentioned "footsteps" on the stairs but didn't clearly say whose. It says he explained about the cabinets rather than something like "he explained about Malfoy's treachery and his plan to use the pair of Vanishing Cabinets to let Death Eaters into the school."

Harry directs the focus away from Draco and Draco's intent and involvement. I'm not sure this is even on a conscious level. His words are mimicking what his mind and his emotions are doing.

When someone asks what Snape shouted to the other Death Eaters as he ran past we get this:

"He shouted, 'It's over,'" said Harry. "He'd done what he'd meant to do."

Harry says he'd done what he - Snape - meant to do. Not what Draco had meant to do. Or what they'd planned together. So once again we see that Harry avoids blaming Draco or even revealing his full role in what happened.

And then, most interestingly, not till later when he's alone with McGonagall does he reveal that Rosmerta is being controlled. And the way he recounts it is REALLY striking.

"There's one thing you should know before the Ministry gets here, though. Madam Rosmerta's under the Imperius Curse, she was helping Malfoy and the Death Eaters, that's how the necklace and the poisoned mead--"

Again the use of passive language. He says that she is under the Imperius Curse rather than that Draco put her under the Imperius curse. In fact, he avoids directly blaming Draco at all. Harry merely says that she has been put under the Imperius curse by someone and that she was forced to pass on the necklace and the poisoned mead, leaving it ambiguous who cursed her and on whose orders she did those things, thus shielding Draco from blame.

He only brings up Draco to say that Rosmerta had been helping him and the Death Eaters rather than that it was Draco specifically who was controlling her. Given that the use of an Unforgivable Curse carries a life sentence in Azkaban this phrasing is certainly interesting. And it means that if Rosmerta did not see who originally cursed her, she might not be able to say who forced her to help Draco or possibly even whose idea it was to send the necklace and the mead into the school. That would make Harry the only witness who could prove Draco's guilt, and seemingly he doesn't want to do that.

Also. Draco IS a Death Eater. Harry's known it since the beginning of the year. And yet he says "Malfoy and the Death Eaters," because without even realizing it, he mentally puts Draco in a different category.

And then the next time Harry thinks of Malfoy is when he's looking towards where Draco usually sits and thinking about how Crabbe and Goyle look "lonely" without him even though given the tensions between them that we see in books 6 and 7 it's almost certain that they don't miss him at all. It seems much more likely that Harry is actually projecting his own feelings. In this context we get this bit of internal narration:

His animosity was all for Snape, but he had not forgotten the fear in Malfoy's voice on that tower top, nor the fact that he had lowered his wand before the other Death Eaters arrived.

I mean just what? All? ALL of his animosity? Draco is the one who let Death Eaters into the castle. He disarmed Dumbledore, thus (seemingly) enabling Snape to kill him. He also got Bill permanently maimed (though he didn't intend for that to happen).

If Harry simply felt nothing for Draco but dislike I don't think these circumstances would put him in the best mindset to start empathizing with him. Harry has a temper. You'd think he'd disregard all the extenuating circumstances and blame Draco for Dumbledore's death too.

I mean this is some of his narration about Snape, for example:

"So when he arrived at the fight, he joined in on the Death Eaters' side?" asked Harry, who wanted every detail of Snape's duplicity and infamy, feverishly collecting more reasons to hate him, to swear vengeance.

But no. That's not how he feels about Draco at all. In fact after thinking about how his animosity is all for Snape and dwelling with pity and concern on how afraid Draco looked and how he had lowered his wand, Harry actually starts wondering where Draco is and worrying about him and about what Voldemort is "making" him do now.

Because despite their rivalry, there's more between Harry and Draco than simple dislike. Harry understands him deeply. And he's immediately ready to sympathize with him and to protect him.

For all that they are stranded on opposite sides of a brewing war, they also have things in common. Harry is drawn to Draco and he cares about him. He knows Draco isn't a murderer and he can't bring himself to even pretend to hate him anymore. He just wants him to be safe.

[sunboki]

— FOR THE NIGHT. a Christopher Bahng fiction

Christopher Bahng x fem. reader

WORD COUNT. 1.1k words

AUG'S NOTES. this bangchan is from my “Korea’s Most Wanted” universe because i have yet to get over him from october…

“Bin, you said it was shipped friday.” The man, Christopher Bahng, grumbles, massaging the pinch between his brows.

His counterpart, Bin, whom he was now quarreling with on the phone groaned profusely, claiming how shipments were already slow—not to mention with the new investigations on his business underway.

The life of The Gunsman isn’t an easy one. It’s a constant game of tag against the police and the government while wielding a well-planned dictionary of excuses to avoid suspicion. 

So now, as Bahng’s precious system becomes increasingly jeopardized, he finds himself losing more and more sleep to a worrisome degree.

And, having left the party filled with chairman, associates, and colleagues alike, Bahng slips into the safety of his car, once again troubled with the demands this illegal trade calls for.

“Well tell him I’ll have to serve his head on a platter if the ammunition doesn’t arrive by Friday. I’m running a charity event with how many funds I’ve given the idiot.”

Although halfway into Bin’s response, a quiet, though audible sound rustles in his backseat.

Instantly, he’s lurched a pistol from his thigh, aimed directly at the responsible interruption.

“Bahng. Bahng?” Bin echoes, only to be hung up on as Chris takes in the sight before him.

Lying in his backseat, curled up in a miniature ball, is a girl.

Your face is wrinkled in discomfort, hand resting right below your cheek, smushed against his car, a Lamborghini’s, interior.

How you got here without him noticing is beyond him, how long you’ve been here an even larger mystery.

His hand falters with the pistol, gawking with obvious surprise prior to stuffing the weapon back into its leather holster.

Instinctively, he would’ve called an assistant, asked them to take you home, find someone who knew you. Except, by the look of your current state, he has an inkling you wouldn’t be the greatest help navigating.

You’re gone.

Plus, the party’s already drawing to a close, people scattering out in every direction. The last thing he needs is to draw attention to himself.

Bahng may work illegally, lacking the fear of blood on his hands, but he’s not heartless.

Stifling a sigh, he rakes a hand through his hair, repeatedly clearing his throat in the case you woke up.

Leave it to him to end up with a random girl in his backseat.

Fine. Home it is.

Or, one of his many homes in the area.

Starting the engine, he spares repeated glances at you on the drive back, simply met with your same, woeful expression. Eyes screwed shut, lips pursed, cheeks stained a pink hue.

Pulling in, he stalls in the front seat, debating on all his morals up till now.

“I can’t believe I’m doing this..” Words a mere mutter, he carefully opens your door, gingerly dragging you out from your awkward position.

Knees pulled to your chest, Bahng keeps one, scarred hand on your back and another beneath your thighs while your head hangs, both hands bunched into fists, pressed to your chest.

Scared.

Whatever happened before, however you got here, you were scared—that much was known.

Somehow, the realization had him holding you closer.

Swiping the code to the door, he silently curses the loud beep, confusing himself with his concern for you.

Why did he care? You’d wake up, he’d get your home address and send you off. Why was he now so conscious about your comfort?

Heading up the winding stairs, he pulls his office chair from its place, deciding water as the best option.

“I’m going to put you down for a second, okay?”

Gently idling you into the chair, his movements halt when your arms reach up around his shoulders, a soft, barely divisible whine slipping past your lips, unwilling to let go.

He can barely recognize anything with how loud his heart rams against his rib cage.

Pull yourself together Bahng.

Ensuring you were still asleep, he slips into the kitchen, filling a glass with water before returning to you.

Your head jerks from when he holds the rim to your mouth, unwilling to cooperate.

“Just water sweetness,” He soothed, hating how worried he was, how senseless this behavior was.

Yet, he only continued to ease you into each sip, palm cupping your cheek for support, narrowly masking his astonishment when your eyes slowly opened, barely awake.

“Mm..?” Your vocal cords betray you, leering on the verge of dream and reality as you try acknowledging your surroundings.

No amount of recollection aids your perception in figuring out how you got here, only aware of the blaring ache in your head and a strangers voice in the distance.

One thing’s for certain. You feel awful.

Discerning the splash of water dumped down a sink, you’re once again hoisted into his arms, disappearing back into unconsciousness as Bahng nudges open his bedroom door, settling down on the edge of the bed.

“I don’t mean to man-handle you, but we need to get these shoes off.”

Situating you upright, his arm slips down, propping each of your ankles where he can pull the heels from your feet.

Softly placing you down, he savors your feeble grip grasping at his clothing, gradually loosening in an attempt at holding his face.

“Unfortunately, I can’t stay here all night sweets, you’re gonna have to let go,” Bahng whispers, easing your wrists down to your sides.

Unfortunately? What’s gotten into him?

Although, just as he adjusts the comforter over you, turning to go, he hears a sniffle.

C’mon, ignore it, she’s fine.

Another sniffle.

Screw it.

“If you tell me where you live I can take you home?” He utters, lingering by your bedside like a child waiting to hear if they can go on a play date.

It’s painful admitting the effect your tears have on him, brows creasing so sadly in a way he can’t ignore.

“Are… Are you gonna hurt me?” You whimper, feeling absolutely exhausted the longer your mind races, frantically piecing together any clues of your whereabouts to no avail.

The pad of his thumb wiping free falling tears, he shakes his head, a miniature smile gracing usually serious, unmoving features.

“I can’t say I haven’t hurt someone before, but I’m not gonna hurt you, alright sweetness?”

Nodding fervently, his face contorts, admiring the adorable manner you blink up at him, lashes all clumped from crying.

Look, his ego isn’t too fragile to admit you’re cute.

“..How did I get here?”

Bahng chuckles.

“I don’t know the answer to that myself.”

Freeing your arm from his sheets, you furiously rub your eyes, frown tugging at the corner of your lips, hiccuping as your breathing shallows.

“I know things are scary when you’re this drunk. I promise everything will be a thousand times better in the morning.”

And with that, he pulls the comforter over you, bidding a quiet good night and nearing the door for a second time.

This time, you intervene, latching onto the fabric of his shirt.

“Thank you.”

What did he just get himself into.

He sucks his teeth, surveying the sleepy eyes you’re torturing him with.

“Don’t mention it.”

sunboki, may 2022 ©

[messylustt]

݁   𓂃 ៸៸៸ …and taste — rafe cameron + reader ( outer banks ) : after he finally gets to taste you he wishes you hadn’t run away. lucky for him a dinner is being held at the cameron’s.

contents : jealous!rafe. possessive!rafe. rafe being slightly obsessed with reader. virgin reader. slight innocence kink. unprotected sex. wc 3.9k.

pt one pt two

“come on, dear, we’re leaving now.” your mother’s voice rouses you from your book. your brows furrow as you eye her almost fancy dress.

“where are we going?” you ask, sitting up.

“to the cameron’s, i told you this.” she replies, turning to leave your room.

you freeze. what?

a few weeks ago you vaguely remember your parents mentioning a dinner. you didn't realise it was this soon. no. god. this was the worst timing.

your cheeks warm at the memory of rafe, and what he had done. you place your hands against your cheeks in an attempt to cool your face, as you quickly stand.

you couldn’t see him. you weren't prepared to see him this soon. what had happened in the kitchen was only two days ago. you didn’t know where you stood, and part of you didn’t want to. you thought you would have time to prepare a whole speech where you would point out how sarah would feel if her best friend and brother were getting it on.

or, part of you hoped, that rafe just…forgot, and saw you as another girl. and then the other part wished that you weren't just some girl. but that was certainly wishful thinking.

you quickly rummage through your clothes, your pyjamas not ideal for a dinner, as you hear your mum call for you downstairs.

arriving at the cameron’s made your heart thump against your chest. you’d never been nervous walking into this house, but then again rafe had never kissed you before now. what if he wasn’t home? again, wishful thinking.

you greet ward and rose with a smile, as sarah bolts down the stairs to give you a hug. you didn’t dare look around for rafe, as you let sarah bring you into the dining room.

“you're not gonna believe what happened yesterday!” sarah excitedly says to you, but your focus is annoyingly dragged to the boy walking in through the other entry. you immediately stiffen, as you stare at sarah. you won’t look at him if you don’t have to.

what you didn’t see was the way that rafe’s eyes found you immediately, staring at you with the same intensity that you're using on sarah.

he had also forgotten about this dinner, though his reaction to it was far different than yours. of course he was nervous, you hadn’t seen each other since that night. but his want to see you overrode most of his other feelings.

you were all soon taking a seat, not missing the way rafe found one directly opposite you. this way you’d have to look at him, even if by accident. you curse under your breath but maintain a smile, as you stare at the food on your plate.

chatter filled the room, as your parents and theirs talked about too many topics to keep up with. you kept your gaze on sarah, as she explained her adventures over the past few days. you’d always lived a kook life, so hearing how much fun the pogues got up to almost made you feel jealous.

as you place a forkful of food in your mouth you suddenly feel a brush against your foot. you choke, realising exactly who did that. you place your hand against your chest as your coughing gains the attention of the parents.

“you alright, sweetie?” rose asks.

you quickly nod, trying to smile, while hitting your chest. “yeah, i’m fine, thanks.”

you hear a faint snort as you whip your head to rafe for the first time that night. you shoot him a small glare, to which he only smirks in return.

“so, y/n, have any boys caught your attention?” ward asks you, as you break eye contact with rafe.

“uh,” you begin as rose cuts in.

“ward,” she scolds, before looking at me. “he just means that you’ve grown into a beautiful young lady, i’m sure boys have taken a liking.”

you smile, as you spare a fleeting glance to rafe. he’s watching you closely, as if he wants to know the answer just as much as rose and ward.

“well, there has been this boy.” your mum speaks up, as you shoot her a look. “what—toby seems like such a sweet boy.”

rafe was intently watching the conversation, though his bites began to grow a little more aggressive as the name toby left your mother’s lips.

‘sweet boy.’ he had to hold back a scoff. she didn’t see the way that kid eyed her daughter with a look that contradicted the word ‘sweet’.

of course he was very familiar with that look, that always seemed to be directed at you. the difference is that toby didn’t deserve to look at you like that, and in all honesty rafe probably didn’t either, but that didn’t seem to be enough motivation to look away.

he had touched you, kissed you, and tasted you. and god, did he want to continue. to get you into his bed whenever he saw fit, to see you laid across his sheets for him.

he bit into his fork, the metal scraping against his teeth as he eyed you across from him. you had only met his eyes once, and he planned to have you staring at him, and only him for the rest of the night…maybe somewhere more isolated.

“yeah, he’s nice.” you smile at the adults. you had said that to rafe when he had asked if you liked him. Which made rafe realise that toby was barely competition. that’s all you thought of him, and that made him grin.

“well, y/n, if that boy isn’t right for you, then just know that rafe, sarah and wheezie’s cousin is quite a catch.” ward laughs proudly.

you chuckle awkwardly. the last thing you wanted was to get in with this family where rafe could see you way more often.

you hear rafe clear his throat, earning the table’s attention. “did you know that johnny was caught robbing a store recently?” rafe speaks innocently as Ward’s expression falls. “plus i’m sure y/n wouldn’t exactly catch his eye.” rafe is leant back against his chair, his arms crossed.

you meet his gaze again with a scowl, while rafe tilts his head. “oh, i’m not sure i exactly want a cameron staring at me anyway.” you smile, as rafe’s eyes narrow.

“but imagine y/n a part of the family.” rose says with a thoughtful smile as she sips her cocktail.

rafe doesn’t shift his gaze from you as you eye up his silent challenge. “no cameron has caught my eye i’m afraid, besides sarah of course.” you shift your gaze to sarah who chuckles, giving you a nudge. “yeah,” she smiles. “y/n’s off limits.” she speaks playfully.

you glance back at rafe to see his gaze has hardened.

bullshit, rafe thinks. he has done more than just ‘catch your eye’.

he tongues his cheek as he watches you eat more of your food. the way your lips wrapped around the for—

he has to look away for a moment, remembering his and your family still sitting at the table. this dinner was going on forever, and his patience was wearing thin.

“alright, i need to tell y/n something, so we’re heading upstairs.” sarah says quickly, as she takes her last mouthful of food.

you're then dragged up and out of your seat, continuing up the stairs to sarah’s room. rafe watches you go, glaring at sarah’s grip on your arm.

sarah had shared the rest of her adventures with the pogues to you, as you both ended up laughing on her bed. it was late when sarah got called downstairs.

“feel free to take a shower.” sarah says to you, as she darts out the door.

you take up the offer, feeling sweaty from your previous mountains of nerves.

you're quick out of the shower, wrapping a towel around your body, as your wet hair hits your cheeks. you had forgotten to grab some of sarah’s clothes to change into. you slipped out the bathroom door, cursing under your breath at your stupidity.

you walk into the hallway, the towel wrapped tight around your chest as you step quietly, not wanting to wake anyone who had decided to sleep.

then you felt a hand grab your upper arm, yanking you into a room. you gasp, your heart jumping as the door shuts. the room has dim lighting but you're quick to make out a sweatshirt on the bed that looks awfully familiar. too big for wheezie and not sarah’s style.

rafe’s.

shit. you spin to face the door as you catch sight of Rafe standing there, his eyes narrowed in a glare.

“off limits?” rafe reiterates sarah’s mock sentence. he steps forward as you slightly shuffle back, your hand gripping your towel with a force that’s making your knuckles turn white. rafe reaches out, hitting your chin up as he brushes your damp hair away from your cheek. “you're off limits, alright.” he whisper-hisses, making your body stiffen. “just not to me.”

you gulp as he grabs your neck, pulling you forward. his breath hits your face, successfully making it heat up. his large hand brushes your neck, nearly winding around your entire throat.

“rafe—”

he cuts you off. “you're off limits to people like toby, or johnny, or even sarah.” his tone is dark, almost threatening, but then his almost soft eyes contradict to a point that makes your head spin. “off limits to any guy who looks at you.”

“rafe, what are you doing?” you ask, drawing the towel higher. rafe catches this, his eyes shooting down to your covered chest. he gulps, staring at the remaining water droplets left on your skin, dotted around your collarbone. his breathing picks up as he meets your gaze again.

he then smiles, a little too innocently. “you lie a lot, did you know that?” rafe steps closer, making you shuffle back. he takes another large step as your thighs hit his bed. you curse yourself for backing up in this direction. “you lied about not liking a cameron.”

you shake your head. “i like sarah.”

“not how you like me.” rafe speaks cockily.

“you're far too proud for your own good, rafe.” you say, trying to stand straighter, showcasing some form of dominance in your losing situation. rafe just looks amused, which pisses you off more.

“we kissed once—” you begin, but rafe immediately cuts in.

“oh, we did more than just kiss.”

you shut your eyes, trying to forbid the memory to fill your brain. you feel rafe tilt your chin up, his warm breath hitting your nose. he then leans down to your ear, your eyes still shut, as if that will shut him out. “and i plan to more than just eat you out.” he whispers, before biting your earlobe.

you gasp, eyes shooting open as he pushes you onto the bed. he towers over you, resting his knee in between your legs, that you want to close desperately.

“rafe—”

“shh, pretty girl, i just want to make you feel good.” he breathes, his eyes devouring you hungrily. you still had the towel covering you, but you didn’t think that would last much longer. in response to your thought you bring it closer to your chest. rafe smirks, watching you try to hold onto your modesty.

cute, he thinks to himself.

his finger raises to tantalisingly skim across your skin right by the top of your towel. he then lets his hand drift down to the bottom of your towel. drawing it up your thigh as you try to close your legs, forgetting that his knee sits between. you clench around it, gasping as he moves his leg higher, bringing your towel up with it.

cold air hits your pussy making you shiver. rafe’s hand moves up your thigh. you try to move away on instinct, but rafe pushes his knee higher, his jean material rubbing along your clit. a whimper escapes you, and rafe’s eyes dart to yours, smiling. “oh, you like that?” he teases, his expression looking almost as desperate as yours.

“would you ever let toby touch you like this?” he asks, sweetly at first. but when you stay silent, he raises his hand to clench around your neck, tightening only a fraction. “no. you wouldn’t.” he hisses out. “say it.”

“rafe—”

“not my name. you have plenty of time to scream it. i want to hear you say who is allowed to touch you.” rafe demands, and you squirm under him, his jean-clad knee still pressed against you.

“n-no one.” you say, to which he shakes his head.

“wrong.” he leans down to bite your neck, making you jolt. “try again.”

“i’m not going to say you.” you try to stay defiant, knowing how wrong this is. you didn’t want to think of what sarah would say.

“no?” rafe chuckles mockingly. his bite then turns to a kiss, spreading them all across your jaw and cheek. He reaches your mouth, hovering. both of your chests are heaving against each other. “do you want to leave?”

your eyes continue to dart between his eyes and lips.

“i’ll tell ya what.” rafe begins, staying extremely close to your lips. “if you aren’t wet, i’ll let you leave. but if you are…well…” he smiles. your eyes are wide as you watch him. you lean further into the bed, his warm breath making your mind foggy. rafe follows your lips, grabbing your jaw and holding you still. “and there’s only one way to find out.”

rafe reaches down, abandoning your jaw to reach your pussy. his fingers hover over before one pushes inside you. you shut your eyes, your breathing turning erratic. you hear rafe groan in praise as he feels your dripping deception.

“oh god.” you mutter as you feel a second finger push in.

“well, would you look at that?” rafe taunts, now placing a kiss to your cheek as your back slightly arches against his fingers. “you're dripping.” he whisper-groans.

your breathing stutters as he continues to pull in and out.

rafe watches your expression as he fingers you, all self control slipping when a small noise escapes your mouth. he leans closer, pressing his lips against yours, wanting to swallow your sounds.

as he picks up the pace you're practically panting in his mouth as he laps at your tongue. his need for you is growing, as he tries not to grind on your leg, his position nearly straddling one of your thighs.

you draw close, your eyes nearly rolling, when he pulls away. you feel embarrassed by the sound of desperation that leaves you. but rafe is ecstatic to hear it.

“why did you?...” you pant, catching his gaze.

“‘cause i need to fucking taste more of you. i didn’t have time that night, before you ran off.” he grips your towel, your eyes widening as he rips it away, tossing it somewhere in his room. he pauses, staring at your naked tits, gulping. you try to cover up, but rafe is quick to grab your wrists, pinning them to the bed, and leaving you open for him. his breathing is heavy as takes your wrists into one hand, bringing the other to circle around your nipple.

you shiver, and he practically moans as he takes your entire breast in his hand, massaging it. he looks dazed as he watches his hand enjoy you.

he then leans down to your other breast, licking a circle over your nipple, making you gasp. he loved the way you couldn't swallow down the noises that left you, he wanted to hear more.

he fully took your nipple into his mouth, sucking and licking. you moaned, as both your nipples hardened against his rough tongue and hand.

he got more aggressive and desperate as he bit and sucked on your nipple, while circling the other with his finger. you're nearly writhing under him as pleasure shoots through you.

christ, you think to yourself.

“now you can’t run away from me.” rafe speaks against your skin, before raising his head to hover over your lips. “ever.” he kisses you with passion, as he presses himself further against you. you gasp into the kiss as you feel him hard against your hip. he groans as you shuffle against his cock. his grip tightens around your wrists, breaking the kiss.

“don’t do that unless you're actually going to do something about it.” he breathlessly speaks, his voice almost edging submission. you’d never heard him pleading. ever.

you kiss him, making him whimper as you shift again. rafe grabs your hips, trying to get you to stop, but you manage to move, swinging your leg around him.

he’s now lying under you, as you straddle him. rafe’s eyes are wide and blown out with lust. you reach for the buttons of his shirt, feeling it unfair that you're naked while he stays clothed.

rafe’s breathing stutters as your hand grazes his chest, pulling his shirt back. rafe raises on his elbows, helping you get the shirt over his shoulders, but as you pull it down rafe can’t resist and kisses you.

he’s wanted this for so long and here you are undressing him. he groans against your lips, nearly biting your tongue as he pushes into you. “rafe—” you try against his persistent mouth, as you fiddle with getting the shirt completely off.

“i just—” rafe cuts himself off as he harshly breathes. “you look so pretty trying to undress me.”

you lean back. “i don’t have to—”

but rafe cuts you short by hastily undoing his belt, pulling it out of the loops, all while he kisses your collarbone, multitasking extremely fast that it makes your head spin.

he grabs your hips pulling you harshly down into him, as you place your hands on his shoulders, gripping hard. his jeans are unbuttoned but not off, his shirt gone somewhere by your towel. he desperately moves your hips against him, making you both moan. the raw feeling of his jean material and cold metal of the button and zipper against your throbbing clit is making your breathing choppy. it’s nearly painful with how turned on you are.

“oh, fuck.” rafe’s eyes are rolling, his grip on your hips tightening to the point of bruising. he then grabs your jaw, resuming his dominant attitude. “tell me only i get to feel you.”

you open your mouth, panting from the grinding. rafe brings you closer to his lips, breathing past them. “tell me.”

you choke out. “only you.”

“can what?” he juts his hips up into you.

“f—feel me.” you gasp.

rafe smirks against your lips. “good girl.” he then flips you both, so that your back is against the bed again. he pulls his jeans and boxers off, before pulling you closer to him by your thighs. he leans down to your ear, keeping his grip on your thighs. “is this your first time?”

you shakily nod, catching as rafe’s eyes darken. “shit.” he breathes, kissing your jaw. “i’m gonna make you feel so…good…yeah?”

you nod in response, not trusting your words. rafe swirls his finger along your clit, making sure you're wet enough. “then let me hear your sweet voice, loud and clear.”

“but sarah—” you begin, only just remembering that she was in the house. was she wondering where you were?

“nobody is going to stop me from finally making you mine.” he darkly breathed. “i’ve always wanted to taste you, taint you, train you—” you choke a gasp as he wraps your legs around his hips. “i’m so glad i get to be your first...” he grins before kissing you. he pushes you further into the bed before widening your legs. he slowly pushes the tip past you. you stiffen at the foreign feeling, but rafe continues to place tender kisses to your cheek and jaw. he slowly pushes further in. the pain makes your brows furrow as your breathing shallows out. but rafe stays still until you’ve gotten used to his size. he watches as your forehead smooths out and pleasure takes over.

he begins to move, earning a whine from you. he growls as his eyes roll. he pulls in and out, picking up the pace to a continuous rhythm. he leans down to your ear, smirking. “...and your last.” he whispers possessively. you can’t link his words to his previous ones before he’s thrusting harder into you. you try to stay quiet, not wanting the family to know. god, were your parents still downstairs?

“come on, pretty girl, i like hearing you speak. even if it’s just incoherent moaning.”

in response you moan, as his pace picks up to one almost animalistic. “fuck.” He breathes.

both your highs are drawing close, as rafe nearly becomes a whimpering mess above you. he’s trying so hard to keep control of his dominance, but when it came to you all control flew out the window. he breathes your name against your lips before he kisses you, but the kiss soon turns into you both just groaning into each other. the crescendo of your orgasm is approaching as your grip on rafe’s neck and shoulders dig in, nearly breaking skin.

“rafe.” you whimper, keeping his lips to yours.

“that’s it.” rafe praises, feeling his own orgasm approaching. he uses his finger to draw circles on your clit making you choke a groan. god, did it feel good.

your orgasm crashes into you as your head tilts back. “god.” you moan. rafe pulls out, his own pleasure spilling over your stomach. he hadn’t meant to, but he just had to stay inside you until the last second.

“shit.” rafe heaved as he rested his head in the crook of your neck. you both panted as your highs drew to a close.

you don’t notice as rafe got up, to then come back with a fresh towel from his adjoining bathroom. you sit up on your elbows, still dazed and slightly lightheaded. rafe is quick to clean you up, before your reaching for your clothes.

but just as you're about to pull your shirt over your head, rafe reappears with grey sweatpants hanging around his hips, probably just having cleaned himself up. he catches you, quickly taking the shirt out of your grasp and throwing it back to the floor, as he grabs your cheeks and pulls you in for a kiss.

“rafe—” you try, but he just smiles in response, drawing you closer by your waist.

“and where are you going?” he prys.

“i left sarah. she’s probably wondering—”

rafe shakes his head. “no, no. you're with me now, and i plan to keep you for the rest of the night.”

you hold down a smile, as you get out of his hold reaching for the door handle, but rafe quickly wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you back. “i meant what i said. you're not running away.”

you shake your head with a slight chuckle. “i just feel bad—”

“you’ve spent plenty of time with sarah. you owe me time, now.” rafe cuts in, tilting your chin up. “and i’d love to see you trapped in my sheets.”

at this rate rafe’s arms were glued to you, and you didn’t think he'd ever let go.

© messylustt.tumblr please don’t steal, copy or translate my work onto other platforms.

[returnsandreturns]

a stray scene

Matt doesn’t stop working on his essay when Foggy comes back from the party but then he smells blood.

“Are you good, buddy?” he asks, turning slowly.

“Totally fine,” Foggy says, sitting heavily on his bed and groaning softly. “I mean, I might have a small head wound? But other than that, I’ve actually never been better.”

“What happened to your head?” Matt asks, laughing.

“Four shots of tequila happened, my handsome friend,” Foggy says, gravely. “Four shots of tequila and falling down half a flight of stairs.”

“Shit,” Matt says, standing up. “Are you bleeding?”

“Not copiously,” Foggy says.

“But you are bleeding.”

Foggy yawns and mutters something about it being a flesh wound and Matt sighs.

“Hold still,” he says, reaching out to find Foggy’s hair and then stepping in close to trace his fingers through it until Foggy makes a sharp pained noise. He drops a hand to Foggy’s shoulder, squeezing it gently when he runs his fingers over what appears to be a small gash. “Sorry—come on, come to the bathroom with me. I’ll clean it for you.”

“I forgot about your first aid skills,” Foggy says, following Matt willingly. “From your traumatic childhood.”

“That part wasn’t so traumatic,” Matt says, laughing.

“I don’t think I really have any trauma other than head trauma,” Foggy says, leaning against the bathroom wall while Matt rummages through his first aid kit for an alcohol wipe. “Does that make me boring?”

“I think it makes you lucky, technically,” Matt says, gently moving Foggy’s head so he can clean the cut.

When he’s done, Foggy leans forward to rest his forehead on Matt’s shoulder, their bodies pressing together. Matt automatically hugs him. He’s getting good at knowing when he’s supposed to do that but worse and worse at ignoring what he wants to do when the hug lingers like this.

“Thank you for saving my life,” Foggy says, yawning loudly, wrapping his arms around Matt loosely.

“Just saving you from a possible infection,” Matt says, rubbing his back. "Maybe try taking elevators when you go past shot number three in the future?"

"You're so smart," Foggy says, lifting his head and kissing Matt directly on the mouth before walking off to their room. Matt stands there for about a minute and Foggy's already passed out by the time he follows him back, leaving him to deal with the aftermath of the moment alone.

[strangersteddierthings]

[To read on Ao3]

It's Saturday evening and Steve is annoyed. He doesn't understand why everyone won't just stop asking if he wants to talk.

It'll be better for you to get it out of your system, Steve. (Nancy) Talking these things through really helped me, Steve. (Max) You know we're here for you, don't you, Steve? (Dustin) If anyone understands, it's us. Me. You know that, right, Steve? (Robin)

Isn't he allowed to have one damn secret to himself!? Robin did almost get him to crack because out of everyone, Robin would understand his ridiculous, almost overwhelming crush on Eddie Munson.

He's not keeping it a secret because he's embarrassed of his crush, but because he's afraid of rejection for the first time ever. Based on past experience, Steve has always been the one doing the rejecting. In fact, Steve would argue he's never been rejected before. Nancy and he broke up, and breaking up doesn't count as rejection. It's just a change in feelings. And Robin didn't reject him because she had told a half truth when they thought they were gonna die, and then came out to him when he confessed, and rejection also doesn't count if you were never a romantic option to begin with.

Eddie is the first crush he's had (that he's willing to, eventually, act upon) that he's uncertain about. Eddie flirts with him, sure, but he also flirts with Robin, Nancy, Jonathan, and Argyle. He doesn't shy away from Steve's touch, but he rarely initiates it himself. Everything Steve tries to test, to gauge Eddie's interest, just falls flat, or doesn't work, or isn't enough to show if Eddie likes him romantically or as a friend.

Anyway, it's Saturday evening and Steve is annoyed. Annoyed because he knows that waiting for him at his own house is an ambush (an intervention, they'd called it) from his own supposed friends. Steve had just listened to them plan the whole thing over the walkie talkie.

When Steve pulls into his driveway, he's a little impressed at that fact nothing looks off. There are no extra cars, no bikes scattered across the lawn. The house looks dark, even.

When he goes for the door, it's unlocked, though, which is the dead giveaway. Steve sighs heavily before letting himself in. He doesn't bother to flick on the light in the foyer, just shrugging out of the Family Video vest and toeing off his shoes, leaving both in a pile by the door before squinting into the house.

It is dark, but he can make out irregular shapes, lightly illuminated by the light from the backyard coming through the large windows on the far wall. It looks like they've rearranged his furniture. He also hears the slight creak of the floorboards, from the kitchen. That would be Lucas, who Steve knows has been tasked with sneaking around and making sure Steve can't just bolt back out the front door (like he's ever actually run away from a confrontation).

They were very thorough with the planning. Steve knows where a majority of people are lurking, cutting him off from 'fleeing'. Lucas in the kitchen, to cut him off from the front door. El at the top of the stairs so he can't hide in his room. Argyle stationed in the hall that leads to the garage. Everyone else scatted throughout the living and dining room.

Might as well get this over with.

Steve makes it about halfway to the living room before a single floor lamp lights up. It illuminates Robin, who has turned his father's favorite chair around to face the front door instead of the TV, arm still up from where she'd twisted the nob on the lamp. "Steve. We need to talk."

"Buckley," Steve answers, calm as he can manage, surveying the room. Everyone else is just out of the line of light from this ancient lamp. He wonders how they managed that. Still. He knows they're here, so with as much confidence as he can muster, he looked directly at an out of place shadow and hopes he's right as he says, "you want to talk, too, I suppose?"

"How-" it's Dustin's voice that starts to speak and is quickly cut off with a smacking sound. Steve's willing to bet it's Max or Erica who slaps a hand over Dustin's mouth to keep him quit.

"Okay, so Dustin's here, too," Robin says, trying to regain control of the ambush but Steve's not having it.

He puts his hands on his hips and says in a voice loud enough to be heard throughout the quiet house, "And Lucas, sneaking though the kitchen to the door. Argyle in the hallway, El upstairs. The rest of you are here, too. I heard the whole thing on the walkie."

"What! You were supposed to be at work!" Dustin yelps as almost every light flicks on at once. Each light switch has a person stationed at it. Steve can now see Jonathan and Nancy to his right, Dustin, Max, and Mike also to the right, but further into the living room. To the left, Argyle has made his was from the hallway, and Eddie (Jesus fuck, only this group of assholes bring his crush to the intervention about refusing to talk about his crush! (not that they know about the crush)), Erica and Will mirror the position of the others, almost against the wall to stay out of the light from the windows. He hears the stairs creak as El makes her way down.

"I was. It was slow. I got the walkie from my trunk to ask someone to save me from boredom just in time to hear your scheming," says Steve.

"We aren't scheming, Steve," Robin says, standing from the chair now and stepping closer. "We're worried. You don't talk to us."

"I talk to, like, almost all of you every day!"

"Not about important things!"

"I happen to think that discussing the newest releases is important. Tells me a lot about all of your guys' terrible taste in movies."

"Steve!" Nancy steps in now, "this is serious."

"It's really not. You are all making a big deal about this and it's not!" Steve says.

"Why are you keeping this from us?" Max pipes up, "if you can't talk to us about this, then who can you? We understand."

"Look, I know we've all experienced this.... issue, at some point, but that's doesn't mean I want to talk to any of you about it-"

"Issue he says! You can't even say it," Robin challenges him, matching his hands on hip stance, mirroring him.

Steve closes his eyes and takes a deep breath through his nose. This is getting ridiculous. Of course, he can't say it! He's barely gotten through his sexuality crisis and hasn't even come out to Robin yet! He wants to, really, but... "Listen. I appreciate that you are all so invested in this, but you need- sorry, no. I need you to let me do this at my own pace."

"It's been since '83! How much longer do you need!?" Dustin is looking at him like he's grown a second head and that-

What. Wait. What? Steve's brain screeched to a halt. "What."

"What what?" Dustin raises his hands, confused. "You need to talk to someone about what we all went though. The Upside Down! We all talk to you, but you don't talk to any of us and bottling it up isn't healthy."

Steve's arms go limp at his sides and all he can do is blink. They aren't- they don't think- Steve's brain hasn't restarted yet, which is what he blames for what leaves his mouth next. "Wait. This isn't about my crush on Eddie?"

A clatter and the sound of glass breaking, accompanied by Eddie's voice cursing follows that. Steve looked over to see that Eddie seems to have fallen back against the wall he was near, knocking a picture from the wall in the process. He's staring at Steve, though, eyes owlish and he looks like he's about to either faint or run away.

Steve's gut twists because neither of those were the reaction he'd hoped for (but they are the reactions he most expected).

"Your WHAT," Robin screeches and that brings Steve back to his brain.

Oh.

Oh fuck.

He just. He just came out to everyone, all at once, in his living room. This is fine, this is fine. He can deal with this. The room and everyone (oh God, everyone) in it fades away as Steve puts one palm flat on his own chest, focuses on feeling his own touch, on the rise and fall of his chest, trying to remember how he draws breath usually. Normally he can pull himself back this way but it's so much, too much, everyone is watching him-

"Steve. Hand," El's voice is distant but he obeys, hand going out on instinct. El takes it and he feels someone else breathing deep. "Follow. In. In. In. In. Hold. Out. Out. Out. Out. Again. In-" El repeats and repeats, counting each second with a word, and slowly she comes into view, her hand held over his on Lucas' chest. El talks him through it as Lucas demonstrates because it's hard to give instruction and breathe at the same time. This is not the first time El's helped him through a panic attack, but it's usually Hopper who has to demonstrate the breathing for him.

She stops when he calms, allows him to pull his hand away from Lucas but not her own hand. She brings her other to clasp around his, holding his one hand with both of hers.

"Thank you," he whispers.

She gives him a nod, face still serious as she stands next to him.

Steve takes in his surroundings. His panic attack wasn't too long, thankfully, but enough that everyone has moved. He seeks out Eddie subconsciously and finds he's relieved to see that he's taken a seat on the couch, Will next to him all but tucked into his side. No one left, and Steve's glad for that, but they all look so uncertain and off kilter now, scattered across the living room. Robin is a few steps closer than she was before and looks like she wants to finish stepping forward, but not sure if she should.

"Um, thank you guys, for not freaking out while I was freaking out," Steve says, reaching out his other hand to Robin. She takes it and he pulls her into a half hug. "So, uhh, I thought I knew what this was about but guess I didn't."

"Of all the things to think we'd stage an intervention for, having a crush on Ed-someone is certainly not that high on our priority list," Robin snorts from where she's buried her head in his shoulder.

"Well, it makes sense now that it's not about- Maria said I should have talked to you guys sooner, like individually, but too late I guess."

"Who the fuck is Maria!?"

"Language, Henderson," Steve snaps on instinct. "She's my therapist."

For the second time tonight, Robin says, "your WHAT?"

"Therapist?" Steve repeats, but it sounds like a question even to himself because he's almost afraid there's a wrong answer here.

"I didn't know you were seeing a therapist, Steve," Nancy says, voice gentle in a way Nancy's voice really isn't usually. "Do you talk about- I don't know how to phrase this without prying."

Steve rescues her from the awkwardness of having to ask. "She knows about the Upside Down. Dr Owens introduced her after Starcourt. Why are you surprised by this?"

"Because we didn't know," says Dustin.

"I see Maria every Tuesday. How did you not know?" Steve asks.

"What do you mean how did we not know!?" Dustin shouts.

"Can you not shout at me?" Steve sighs. He needs to sit down, so he does. Just drops there, dragging Robin and El with him. Neither complains, though. "I've been going to therapy every Tuesday since '83. I guess it just became part of my schedule, so I don't think about it. And I did, like, actively hide I was seeing a therapist that first year so guess that was habit."

"Is this why you don't talk to us?" Robin's voice is quiet.

"Well, yeah. I didn't realize it was affecting you all so much that I didn't. I thought- I am talking about it. I told Maria about a nightmare I had just last week, I'm not bottling it all up," Steve reassures, "You all talk to me. I didn't wanna create some like, trauma loop where we just talk about how awful it was back and forth and never get, like, closure with it, so I didn't share back. I've just been trying to do for you guys what Maria does for me, but I'm not, like, qualified."

"We could all use some therapy," Nancy says in what seems to be a rather agreeable voice for the tone of the room currently, "but why were you the only one offered help after Starcourt?"

"Oh. Well. It was less Dr Owens offering Maria's service, and more my mom barely refraining from murdering Owens on the spot until he gave into every demand she had. Which, being fair to Owens, he was more than willing to help to begin with."

"Your mom spoke to Owens?" Jonathan speaks for the first time.

"Oh. Wow," Steve blinks, feeling a bit thrown. There's so much he's unintentionally hid from his friends, things that could have been helping them (like them talking to Maria instead of him, have any of them even been offered therapy?) but he's also realizing that they've made an awful lot of assumptions about him without talking to him. "So, wait, I need to know something. How did this come to happen?" He half-heartedly waves towards everything around him with the arm he has half wrapped around Robin.

"The intervention?" Max asks.

"Sorta? No. I get why you thought you needed to intervene, but I don't understand why you came to that conclusion without like, asking me things? All of you were like talk to us Steve we can help Steve we understand Steve but how did it not occure to any of you that I might already be talking to someone?"

It seems the only one brave enough to answer is the person who has known Steve the least, because Argyle says, "far as they could tell, who would you talk to that's not them, bro? Like, you come home to a big empty house. On bad days, Nancy can still cuddle up to her mom and just be held even though Mrs. Wheeler doesn't know what's up, but you're like, alone."

"I-what? What's the implication there?"

"Steve, we can count on one hand the number of times you've ever spoken about your parents," Nancy says, "I guess we all came to the conclusion that you were... you felt like you had to be alone in dealing with the trauma, like you're alone in this house. I mean, we dated for a year and a half, and I never even met your parents."

That's true, but it's because his parents were going through a rough patch and trying to work through his dad's... problem while also working on a big deal for the company. Steve's not going to pretend he knows how his dad's business works but it involves a lot of meetings in cities bigger than Hawkins. "You all mock me for being a rich kid, and then act... what, surprised that my parents actually have to run the company they own?"

"No. The only things you've ever told me about your parents was that your dad was an asshole and that you didn't want them to find out about beer at a party you threw!"

Well. That does paint his dad in a real bad light. "Well, I was younger and stupider when I said those things!"

"When the Russians drugged you, you made a comment. Something about only doing marijuana, dad," Robin says softly from his side. "it's kinda easy to draw the conclusion that your relationship with your parents might be negative at worst, absent at best."

Steve retracts his arm from around Robin, suddenly cold on the inside. He gently shakes off El as well and shoves off the ground so he's standing again, taking three steps back to be able to see everyone at a quick glance around. "I think it's best if we stop this here. I can't- I'm gonna say some shit I'll regret otherwise."

"Steve-"

"Robin," Steve cuts her off, feeling the need to defend his parents, who he loves so fucking much, from his friends. Anger rolls tight under his skin but he doesn't want to give in, so he goes cold instead. "I call my mom every night. They have a mobile phone my dad pays way too much for, so they can know I'm still alive no matter where they have to be currently. My parents are absent," he spits the word like venom, "because I begged them to leave after Starcourt and the only reason they didn't drag me out of here with them kicking and screaming is because I was 18 and legally, they couldn't! That's the only real fight I've ever had with my mom, you know. I told them they had to go because Hawkins is fucking cursed and I couldn't protect all of you and them and-" Steve clamps his mouth shut, swallows down the words. He's going to have to talk to Maria about his hero complex again (he thought he was getting better). No one says a thing in the silence, even though they all look like they want to. Steve takes a deep breath, trying to calm. "I'm going to go call my parents, because they're gonna start to worry, because they do that, if I don't call soon. Let yourselves out like you let yourselves in."

He doesn't quite stomp his way to the kitchen phone, but it's a close call. He could go up to the master bedroom and call privately but a part of him wants them to hear this conversation as they leave. He yanks the phone off the receiver a bit harder then needed and punches in the phone number he's got memorized now. It rings twice.

"Oh Steve, I was just starting to worry!"

"Hi mom. No need to worry. I'm, well, I'm not fine right now, but it's not any Upside Down nonsense."

"Oh, honey, do you want to talk about it?"

"No, not, uh, not right now. I just wanted to hear your voice. To tell you I love you, and I miss you. Dad, too," as Steve speaks he hears the sounds of movement, of shuffling down the hallway and the front door. Resolutely, he keeps his back to the kitchen entrance.

"We love and miss you, too."

"When will you guys be able to come visit?"

"Honey, do you need us? We can be on a plane in a few hours."

Steve smiles at that, and hopes she can hear it in his voice, "no. But, uhh, I wouldn't mind seeing you guys sometime soon."

"We'll make it happen. Hey, how about we have that barbeque you mentioned before. We'd like to be able to meet the people keeping you safe. I do wish the Byers still lived in town, I'd love to catch up with Joyce".

"Oh! I can't believe I didn't tell you! The Byer's are moving back. Oh God! Mom! Hopper's not dead!"

There's a fumbling noise, like perhaps his mom dropped the phone. Some staticky noise, shuffling sounds, and his father's voices comes through the phone, "Steve, your mother looks pretty pale, kiddo. What did you just tell her?"

"Jim Hopper's alive and kicking. The Starcourt Russians kidnapped him apparently."

A deep sigh and then his dad says, "We'll be home in two days, okay kiddo? Gonna want a full explanation of that, but I've got to go, your mom's going to faint -sit down, Stephanie- We love you."

"Love you, too."

Steve hangs up and turns around to see El, Will, and Eddie still lingering by the kitchen entrance. He's not as angry on the inside anymore, and it helps that these three didn't really pipe in and call his parents terrible people who don't love him. (okay, so he's putting words into everyone's mouths, Maria will frown at him hard when he talks about this, but he's going to allow himself to be a little petty right now).

"I am sorry for being part of this," El says, "I do not want you mad at me."

"Never, El," Steve strides forwards, easily pulling El into a hug. She's probably just worried for him because everyone else was worried, and not because she has some idea about what his parents are like. Honestly, El's probably never even thought out Steve's parents even once. "I'm not really mad at anyone. Just... frustrated, and upset, perhaps. We'll all make amends tomorrow, I'm sure."

El releases him after a moment and before she's even fully out of his arms, Will is pulling him into a hug just as deep. Steve's not sure why, he and Will aren't particularly close, but Will clings to him and makes this soft, sob noise as he presses his face into Steve's shoulder, and Steve's wrapping his arms around him on instinct, "Oh, hey baby Byers, it's all good."

Will shakes his head no and just sobs for a moment. Steve lets him, rubs his back after a moment, trying to be soothing. It's a long hug but not awkward. Finally Will pulls back, swiping at his eye with both his hands. "I- thank you, Steve."

Steve is bewildered by that, and it must show on his face, because he hears Eddie try and hide a laugh behind a cough. Steve says, "you're welcome?"

Will doesn't clarify. He just steps back and El takes his hand easily, and the siblings leave, presumably to climb into the back of someone's waiting car.

Which leaves him alone in his house with Eddie.

Eddie, who knows about his crush now because Steve blurted it out loud for everyone to hear.

"I'll leave if you want me to," Eddie says, like he can read Steve's mind, even as he leans against the counter next to him like he plans to stay, "but I- I don't wanna start throwing everyone else under the bus, but I really just thought this was a case of Hero Complex where you think you're only good for getting between us and danger and that we were all gonna try and like, show you how important you are to us all so you'd open up to us. I didn't even think about, like, your parents."

Steve believes that, so he huffs a dry laugh, "yeah. I'm sure you're idea of my parents are snotty rich people who look down on everyone."

Eddie's got the decency to be embarrassed about that truth, if his red face is anything to go on. "Sure, but like, I thought the same thing about you and that turned out to be wrong, so I can admit that. Also, I thought you were an asshole who always got what they wanted, and that's not really a bad parent trait, y'know? Caring about what your kid wants."

"Well, thanks for admitting to it, man."

Eddie nods, then looks away, towards the door. "Do you- should I leave? Do you even want me hear?"

Did he? "Yeah, I want you here. I kinda want Robin, too. I shouldn't have kicked everyone out like that."

"No dude, that was fair. But, uh, I can go chase down Nancy's car and see if Robin will return with me."

Steve does laugh, then, "no. We're so codependent as it is. I just... Robin's been here when I've called my mom. She's here all the time. I don't understand how she just... never picked up on it."

"You always call from the kitchen phone, or do you make it a private conversation? 'Cause Buckley and you are stupidly codependent, but if something's meant to be private, I doubt she's going to be eavesdropping on you."

That's true. And Steve knows he's being irrational. He never said anything, he knows he never even talks about his parents, that they're so rarely even in Hawkins these days, it isn't a farfetched idea to assume it's because he doesn't love them, or they don't' love him. That doesn't stop the hurt he feels for his parents. And a little for himself because, yeah, he never said anything, but also, they never asked.

They see their parents every day, have left their parents in the dark about the truth for reasons Steve doesn't agree with, but he'll never argue that choice with them, never assume they have a bad relationships with their parents for it.

"I had to tell my parents," Steve says, because he and Eddie are just standing in his kitchen in silence and he's thinking these things anyway. Might as well think out loud, "when Billy punched me unconscious and I woke up in my own damn car being driven by Max I just- what if I hadn't made it home to them? What if Billy had hit me one too many times, had beaten me to death? My mom was pacing the living room with worry when I did finally get home. They were supposed to already be on a plane to I don't even know where, but she was so worried about me that she stayed. She didn't even know about the Upside Down. Didn't know how close she'd come to losing me."

Eddie doesn't say anything, but he moves closer, to lean against the kitchen island, across from Steve.

"She was so fucking terrified when she saw me. Wanted to know who did it, what happened, where I'd been- she's never had to patch up anyone after getting a beating, so she tried to usher me back outside, to the car, a hospital I guess, but the thought of leaving the house was so overwhelming. After everything that just happened? I wanted to be home.

"I think she caught on to that. Instead, she pulled me into the bathroom and did her best to clean me up. I tried my hardest to hold it together but she- my mom just took my face in her hands, so gently, afraid to hurt me more," Steve mimics the motion, holding his hands out in front of him like he's cupping a face, "and just said you can tell me what happened, honey. No matter what it is. I love you so much. and I just- I broke down." Steve stops, sucking in a deep breath because just the memory of that night brings back the emotions. His mother's fear for his life. Her love for him.

"I told her everything. Just started talking and couldn't stop. And when I was done, a crying mess on the bathroom floor, she just... just sunk down beside me and held me as I cried. And the craziest part of all, she believed me. The next morning, when I thought for sure she was going to ask what kinda drugs I took to come up with that story, instead, she asked me if she could call Hopper. Wanted to talk to another adult about it," Steve swipes at his eyes, getting misty at the memories before continuing, "the only reason they aren't here right now is because I basically begged them to leave. To go grow their company, I'd said. I'd be here, and I promised to call every night, so they know I'm safe."

"Is that why you've never redecorated?" Eddie asks, out of left field, "'cause having their things around reminds you of them?"

Steve shrugs because he's not sure. "They told me I could change whatever. Make this house your own home, Steve my dad had said but, it's always felt like home, y'know?"

Eddie nods. "Not even a little tempted to change the wallpaper in your room? 'Cause it's pretty fuckin' atrocious man."

That makes Steve bark out a laugh, "ok, yeah, that's just me being lazy."

"Well, if you ever want help removing that wallpaper, count me in. The sooner, the better. How you can stand to look at it, and with those matching curtains, yikes," Eddie is grinning at him and Steve sees what he's doing. Distracting him from the heavy topic. Steve appreciates it. "I won't be caught dead in there until you change it."

"Oh? Hoping to be in my room sometime soon, Eddie?" Steve asks, quirking an eyebrow.

"Well, I did kinda just learn that my crush has a crush on me, so maybe I was hoping," Eddie gives a shrug, aiming to sound indifferent and aloof, Steve thinks, but he can see the grin Eddie's trying to fight from forming on his face, and the way his hand has gone to his hair, pulling some strands to hide that grin behind.

Something sweet and happy spreads through Steve's entire body. Steve opens his mouth to say something, he's not sure, but what comes out instead is a big yawn.

"Alright, bedtime for you I think," Eddie says.

Steve nods, because he is tired. The rollercoaster of emotions and events have worn him down. "You wanna stay over and watch terrible movies until we fall asleep?"

Eddie looks delighted to have been asked.

Today was a shitshow, and Steve knows he'll need to reach out to everyone and talk. Individually, because he's not sure he can handle everyone all at once again. But he needs them to know he was just angry and doesn't hate them all or something.

Tomorrow's got promise, though, so that's good enough.

[not-sleepys-blog]

Say my name, I want the neighbors to hear it, want your body to feel it

Content: Stepdad!gojo, masturbating, voyeurism, blowjob, p in v, no plot, creampie, degrading, use of daddy, Dacryphilia, choking, talk of babies, prevy reader, hair pulling, nipple play, dubcon?, Somnophilia?, dirty talk, reader is 20 and Gojo is early 40s

Word count: 2.2k

A/N: I fell asleep at my desk while writing this. I was gonna post this last night

You didn’t mean to start watching your stepdad in the shower. It just happened. You were walking back to your bedroom after coming up the stairs you saw the bathroom door left ajar and that's when you saw him, your stepdad in the shower, jerking his cock, his hand pressed flat on the shower wall, his white hair stuck to his face from the water. Your eyes wander down his toned back, watching his hand move as he groans. You quickly remember that’s your stepdad.You shake your head to rid of the lewd thoughts in your head of your stepdad’s cock, making your way to your bedroom ignoring the dampness you feel in your panties. From then it turned into a habit, a really, really bad habit.You thought you were being sneaky when you kept peeping on him, but he knew from the beginning and left the bathroom door cracked knowing you would be making a visit. He heard your failed attempts to muffle your moans as you touched yourself to the sight of him. It turned him on and fueled his ego knowing you were fingering yourself as he bathed.

Satoru soaps up his body. He intentionally moves his body in a way that shows off his muscular frame and his erect cock “Oh fuck” you mumble as your hand finds its way past the waistband of your shorts and panties. Hearing your murmurs, Satoru couldn't help but feel more turned on than he already was. He reaches for the showerhead and adjusts it so that the water is spraying directly on his cock, groaning softly as he starts to stroke himself. You watch in amazement as your hand matches the pace his hand was moving at, your fingers pumping in and out of your drooling cunt. His strokes increase in speed and intensity as he imagines what  it would be like to have you underneath him, full of his cock. You get closer to your peak as you keep up with his pace, your legs getting weak as you lean against the wall to support yourself. Satoru moans, whispering dirty words knowing that you’ll hear them. “That’s it baby, I wanna feel you cum all over my cock.’ He groaned out as he felt his ball tightening. Hearing his words pushes you over the edge. You cum in your panties, you bite your lip and cover your mouth with your hand to keep yourself from moaning to loud. As you come down from your high you peak back in the bathroom to watch him finish before going back into your room. His eyes roll back as he lets out a long, deep moan. His cock throbs violently, spurting thick streams of hot cum  onto the shower wall and floor. You quickly run to your room to change shorts before dinner as he gets out of the shower.

 You ate dinner with your family silently, the shame of what you did setting in. You finish dinner and help your mother with the dishes before she goes to bed. You settle down on the couch to watch tv. You turn to a random horror movie that was playing. Satoru seeing you in the living room alone he can’t help but step into his role of dad. He sits next to you as he feigns concern of your movie choice so late in the evening. “You should probably watch something a little less scary before bedtime.” You turn to face him, your cheeks red as you remember watching him shower less than an hour ago. “It’s not that scary, I think I’ll be fine.” You mumble. He chuckles, reaching for the remote, turning off the tv earning an annoyed huff from you. He leans in close to you, his voice dropping an octave. “It’s late, baby. Why don’t you come to bed with me hm?” The offer tempting you already knows that you wouldn’t be able to control yourself around him. “I’m not tired yet..” You murmur. He feels your resistance, but isn’t able to shake his growing desire  he has for you. Satoru decides to employ another tactic. He pulls you into his lap and starts to gently massage your back. “How about I give you a massage instead?” You knew what he really wanted to do but your lust was stronger than your common sense, you nod your head in agreement. “That sounds nice.” Feeling you relax under his hands, he takes his time to really work out any knots or tensions in your back earning some moans from you. Groaning softly, unable to resist his urge any longer, he leans forward and captures one of your nipples between his thumb and forefinger, rolling it gently. His other hand continues to massage your back with more pressure. Your body reacts to his groping, your nipples hardening under your tank top. “What are you doing?” Satoru can’t hold back anymore, feeling your body react to his touch. He moves his hands to grip your hips firmly, his fingers digging into your skin as he thrusts up against you, grinding his hard cock against you through his pants.You whine from the unexpected grinding, your body moves its own and starts to grind against him.

Satoru grows bolder. He leans in closer and starts to nibble at your ear, his voice is soft and husky. “You want it, baby? You want my cock inside you? Tell me…” You nod eagerly, your hips rocking against his, your voice with a slight rasp to it. “Yes, I want it in me.” He growls at your words, his actions becoming more aggressive. He pulls you off his lap and onto the floor, then quickly undresses, revealing  his fully erect cock. “Here baby, it’s all yours.” You get on your knees, your mouth watering at the sight in front of you. Your lips part as you take him in your mouth. Satoru gasps as you take him deep in your throat, his hands finding purchase in your hair. He holds you there for a moment, savoring the sensation before pulling you back up to meet his eyes. “Your such a fucking slut, aren’t you?” You whine in response, your tongue tracing the veins on his cock, you gag when he pushes your head down further. Once he hears you gag he pulls back slightly, his cock slipping out of your mouth with a wet pop. He Looks down at you, his eyes dark and hungry. “Now, why don’t you get on your hands and knees for me?” You got on your hands and knees, like you were told to, eagerly waiting. Satoru watches you with a predatory gaze, a smirk on his lips as he approaches you from behind. His hand gently strokes your hair before trailing down your spine. He nuzzles his nose against your neck, inhaling your scent, then positioning his cock at your entrance. “Daddy please.” You begged, grinding against him.

With a rough groan, Satoru slams into you, earning a moan from you. He begins thrusting with a harsh rhythm, pounding his cock into your tight cunt. His hands grip your hips, holding you still as he takes you hard and fast. You cum just from him putting it in. Your eyes rolled back as you moaned. Feeling your walls clenching around him, he picks up the pace. His hips slam into yours as he grunts with each thrust. “Feels good huh slut?” He growls in your ear as his hand grips your throat. “So good, feels so good daddy.” Satoru grabs your hair, forcing you to look at him. His eyes are wild with lust. “Daddy’s gonna cum in this little whore’s pussy!” The thought of being filled with your step dad’s cum turned you on more. “Yes daddy! I want your cum to fill me up!” You babble, drool spilling from the corner of your lips. With a final few sloppy thrusts he fills you up with his seed. He holds himself there for several moments before pulling out. His thick cum oozes from your pussy as he steps back to admire his work. He wipes his cock on your ass before pulling his pants up. “Now get back to your room, little whore.” He growled. Thinking that was the end of it, you go back to your room. To your surprise Satoru came back into your room in the middle of the night while everyone else was sleeping.

 He couldn’t resist the urge to visit your room. Hequietly opens the door, closing it behind him as he steps inside, finding you fast asleep under the covers. Soft snores leaving your lips causing him to smirk. He carefully removes the covers exposing your nude form. He strokes his cock before positioning it at her entrance, sinking back inside her with a groan. He starts thrusting slowly, gently waking you with each thrust. You slowly start to stir awake, rubbing your eyes, feeling his cock inside you. He kisses your neck and whispers in your ear. “Daddy’s back, baby.” As you begin to fully wake up, he begins to pick up the pace, thrusting harder and faster. Your pussy tightens around him and he grunts with every stroke. “Daddy… mom is in the room across from us. We’ll get caught!” You mumble, moans spilling from your lips despite your sleepy protests. Satoru grins against your neck, his thrusts becoming rougher as he chuckles darkly. “Your mother doesn't need to know about her little whore of a daughter getting fucked senseless by her own stepdaddy.” He growls out between breaths. Too tired to argue back you wrap your legs around his waist as bury your face in his neck, kissing it to muffle your moans. He lets out a low groan as you kiss his neck. He leans into your bite, your hips meeting in a rough rhythm. Your moans only serve to fuel his lust, he wants nothing more than to make you scream his name. “Daddy’s cock feels good.” You whine into his neck. “Fucking right it does, little slut.” Satoru groaned, his thrusts becoming harder. He smacks your ass roughly before grabbing your hips for leverage. “I’m gonna fuck you so hard you wont be able to walk to straight tommrow.” Your eyes roll back with each thrust, your nails dig into his shoulders that’ll leave marks. “Oh God! You’re in so deep! Gonna break my pussy daddy!” Your back arched off the bed, your vision started to blur.He let out a growl, feeling the tightness of your pussy squeezing his cock so deliciously. He thrusts deeper and harder into you, pounding against your g-spot. “You want me to break this slutty cunt of yours?” You whimper and nod “Fuck yes! Break this pussy!” 

“I knew you were a filthy little slut.” He snarls as he fucks your harder, making your breasts bounce with every thrust, your sweet moans fill the room. “You fucking love how daddy’s cock stretches your cunt , don’t ya?” You moaned, grabbing the bed sheets, nodding your head. “Yes daddy, I do…. So rough with me.” You babbled, tears rolling down your cheeks from the pleasure. Satoru grins as the tears roll down your face, he loves breaking a good cry baby slut. “That’s right, cry for me as I fuck you. Beg for Daddy’s cock!” All you could do was whine in response. His eye’s roll back in pleasure as you take his full length of his cock fill you up. He wraps a hand around your throat, choking you softly as he thrust harder. “You like that, whore? Do you like feeling my cock deep inside you?” You nod feeling full and stretched out, your moans and whines filling the room. “You want me to cum inside you? You want me to gill your womb with my babies?” He grunts feeling your gummy walls tightening around his cock. “Yes daddy! FIll me up, wanna have your babies in me!” Satoru’s eyes go wide, thrilled at hearing you say that, his thrusts getting sloppy. “Fuck, yes! You want daddy to cum inside you and make you pregnant with my baby?”  You nod quickly “Fill me up! Wanna have your babies.” Your voice whiney as you reach your peak. Your jaw goes slack as tears roll down your face from the orgasm, your eyes rolling back as you start to see stars.

Satoru moans loudly as he feels you tightening around him, cumming. He thrusts a few more times before pulling out, shooting his load on your belly and pussy, rubbing it in. “Good girl” He hummed. You watch as he finishes on your stomach, soft whines and whimpers falling from your lips. He grins as he watches your fucked out body, your body panting and sweaty. He runs a finger through the cum on your stomach bringing it up to your lips. You open your mouth taking his fingers in your mouth and suck on them. He groans as you suck his cum covered fingers, letting it drip down your chin. He smirks, pulling his fingers out and grabbing a nearby towel. “Good girl. Next time, maybe I’ll let you suck my cock clean after.” “Yeah… next time.”

[rafeysbafey]

✮ wait for you — rafe cameron

summary. rafe has always hated you, or so you thought

warnings. fem!kook!reader, lil angst idk, not proofread

word count. 1.5k

you grew up around sarah and the camerons your entire life, your family not nearly as wealthy as them but you were up there.

there were countless sleepovers and pool parties you two would have, mostly at her house.

so being over there 24/7, you were bound to run into the eldest cameron.

at first he was nice, a young charming boy who would let you in the house when sarah wouldn't answer, and sometimes carry your sleepover bag up the stairs for you.

but when you all started high school, something changed.

he had gotten mean.

he would make comments about your appearance or jabs about your presence when you were over, sometimes in passing shoving you out the way.

it hurt when he did this, just because over the years you had developed a small crush on him.

and you thought the feeling was mutual, but obviously you were wrong.

letting yourself into tanny hill, you let the door close behind you as you made your way up the stairs, holding a night bag in your hand as you dragged it along.

"just let yourself in why don't ya" a voice spoke from behind you, cutting through the silence scaring the shit out of you.

you turned around only to be met with rafe, your heart dropping as he made his way up the stairs, stopping directly in front of you.

he had grown, a lot, when he started high school. along with hitting the gym almost everyday, the boy was huge.

or maybe it just felt like that when he towered over your figure.

"i will, thanks" you snapped, ignoring the scowl on his face as you continued to sarah's room.

thankfully he didn't follow, or make some rude remark about how you looked.

your next run in with rafe was at the boneyard, a red solo cup in your hand as you laughed alongside the pogues.

he watched from a distance, a disgusted look on his face as you leaned into jj, the blonde's arm wrapping around your waist to pull you in closer.

'that should be me,' rafe thought, taking another swing of his beer before ripping his eyes away from the sight.

although rafe would deny the living hell out of anyone who asked, he did like you.

he always has.

but after seeing you get close to jj over the past couple of years, he couldn't help but feel two things.

disgust and jealousy.

how dare you date a dirty pogue when he was right there, he could treat you so much better than that blonde low life.

he thought this of course, never daring to say any of this out loud, especially to you.

he saw out of the corner of his eye you get up, bending over slightly to whisper something in jj's ear before stumbling off.

rafe's eyes never once left your figure, watching as you stalked away from the crowd to a more secluded area.

what caught his attention was when a touren caught notice of this, nudging one of his friends before standing up and following.

before rafe could think, he was standing up and tossing his beer into the sand, ignoring the calls from topper and kelce to come back.

he watched as the guy approached you, probably dropping some stupid pick up line as your face contorted into disgust.

you were obviously uncomfortable.

the boy suddenly grabbed your wrist, yanking you towards him as you froze, a look of fear prominent on your face.

"there you are," rafe called out to you, the touren's head whipping around as your brows furrowed together.

yes you were drunk, but you weren't that drunk to realize rafe was actually talking to you.

actually talking to you, not just dropping insults and throwing glares your way.

he sounded, friendly?

"i've been looking for you, babe."

babe?

before you could ask what the fuck he was talking about, he carefully placed his arm over your shoulders, looking down at the guy who stood nervously in front of you two.

you were super confused, but decided to stay quiet because although it was rafe, you were relieved he was here to pull you away from the touren.

this random boy didn't know rafe's reputation, but he could tell by the size of him, he wasn't one to be messed with.

"u-um, i'll just- just go," the boy sputtered out before walking away, hands in his pockets as he kicked sand behind him.

"are you okay?" rafe suddenly turned to you, concern etching his features as he held your wrist, trying to find if there was any bruising or marks.

"i'm okay," you mumbled, pulling away but stumbling as you did so, the alcohol suddenly hitting as you swayed in place.

was the world spinning? or is it just you?

but the look of rafe's face, it's probably just you.

"come on, let's get you home," he said, trying to take your hand but you pulled away, looking up at him with a drunken scowl on your face.

"what the fuck, rafe" you whisper yelled, as if someone was listening.

no one was, obviously, but your head was spinning and your body was shaking you couldn't help but feel on edge.

"why're you acting so nice?"

he seemed taken back by this, your sudden outburst causing him to freeze in place.

"that guy was getting touchy with you-"

"no," you cut him off, trying to maintain eye contact but your neck started to feel sore, 'was he always this tall?' you thought.

"you shouldn't care."

you were right, why was he acting so nice all of a sudden, after years of picking on you and belittling you.

"i just- just" was rafe speechless? for once in his life he was speechless.

"go on," you huffed, a sudden breeze causing you to cross your arms over your chest and shiver slightly.

"i've always cared," rafe mumbled, sighing as your body started to shake as he gestured behind him.

"let me take you home, it's the least i can do."

you thought for a second, biting at your bottom lip as you narrowed your eyes at the boy.

"fine," you mumbled, "but only because i'm freezing my ass off."

the drive back was quiet and long, or maybe it only felt like that because none of you dared to talk.

but the heat was blasting and you were finally warm so you didn't care.

pulling into your driveway, you were about to get out but froze when you felt rafe's hand fall on your shoulder.

"y/n," he spoke, voice so quiet it scared you, "i've always liked you."

"what're you talking about-"

"i just acted a fool because i'm jealous," he groaned, like the words he just spoke had a bitter taste on his tongue.

"jealous?" you questioned, eyebrows furrowing as you gave him a funny look, "jealous of what?"

"jj, you two are obviously dating."

your eyes widened before you let out a laugh, followed by another, and then another.

rafe's brows deepened as you giggled to yourself, the boy thinking you were making fun of him.

gosh he felt so stupid.

"i'm not dating him, you idiot."

rafe doesn't know what he felt first, relief or hope.

relief that you weren't dating that low life pogue, or hope that he finally had a chance.

"he's like a brother to me," you added.

"oh," was all rafe could muster out, silence following after.

you both stared at each other in this silence, daring one another to speak first.

it's when rafe sighed that those two words fell from his lips.

"i'm sorry."

a small smile made its way to your lips, never in your life thinking rafe would ever apologize for the way he's been treating you.

"it's fine, rafe" you said, watching as his eyes widened ever so slightly, "but i can't forgive you that easily. if you want a chance with me, you have to prove your sorry."

okay, maybe you came off a little too cocky.

"so you're saying i have a chance?" rafe smiled, your heart doing a little flip as you pretended to think.

"if you play your cards right."

with that, you slide out the car, shutting the door behind you as you then heard the window roll down.

"can i take you out then?" he asked, nervousness in his voice as you shrugged your shoulders.

"we'll see."

he couldn't help but smile at that, watching you walk towards your front door as he started to reverse out.

before fully pulling out of the driveway, he leaned over the console and yelled out to you.

"i'll wait for you."

[somehow-a-human]

The Bullet Catch and the Final 15

DO NOT ASK NEIL ABOUT FAN THEORY

Okay, this started as a completely different post. I was writing something else and I had to abandon it because I realized I needed to be writing this instead. It was like a lightbulb moment, or rather, a headlight moment (see what I did there?)

"Banana, Fish, Gorilla, Shoelace, with a dash of Nutmeg." Clearly adversarial forces are capable of seeing what Crowley and Aziraphale are talking about within the bookshop from across the street. It's confirmed the zombies have gotten The Marvellous Mr. Fell's strange magic words correct at the end of the 1941 minisode. Is this foreshadowing the clear observation of the final conversation Aziraphale and Crowley share directly in front of the bookshop window, by the Metatron?

"Aim for my mouth, shoot past my ear". Well if this isn't that damn kiss I don't know what is. And the bullet, the bullet hiding in his mouth. Magicians historically have had keys passed to them through their mouths via a kiss. Crowley sure did aim for that mouth...

"You have formed a de-facto partnership with the demon Crowley." It's a threat, plain and simple. It's the same thing as Furfur showing up in the dressing room with a photograph of the two of them. And what does Aziraphale do both times? He pulls the same fearful face, is terrified for Crowley, and immediately figures out something to quash the threat. Aziraphale is so smart and so fearful for Crowley's safety, he will do whatever it takes, above his own interests to keep him safe.

"Trust me". The bullet catch. God, the stress of this trick, this insane show of trust and love. "You said trust me", "and you did". I have watched season two an unknowable number of times now, and this is still difficult to see on screen, but it's there. Aziraphale mouths, "trust me" and Crowley catches it, and more importantly, trusts him.

This angel knows he's being watched, the love of his life has been threatened, he knows he has no options and he needs to perform a massive trick to save Crowley. Good thing, he always gets it right the time it matters.

Honorable mention: I am an "Aziraphale was trying to signal for a time stop/help to Crowley" truther, here, when it looks like maybe he mimes 'timeout' and "help". I think either Crowley was too blinded by his newfound plan to confess his undying love for Aziraphale to pick up on his "something's wrong voice" or clear non-verbal communication, which we've established this season they are very good at (see Aziraphale asking Crowley to freeze Dalrymple in Edinburgh). OR he did catch the signals and he is LISTENING.

If you haven't read this post by @noneorother about the parallels between The Tales of Hoffmann and GO season 2, you need to. But to snag a small quote of theirs to highlight this one specific point:

"Stella [Aziraphale] arrives in the tavern looking for Hoffmann [Crowley], ready to run away, but now accompanied by Lindoff [Metatron] (dressed as an angelic figure) who followed her. She looks to Hoffmann to save her, but he's too blinded by the fact that he doesn't think she loves him back to pick up on the signal. He gives up, and she goes back up the stairs guided by Lindoff." - @noneorother

Okay but seriously make sure you go read that whole post.

If that isn't what happens in the final 15, what is?

Then we have the end of 1941 pt.2, wine in the backroom, and the reveal of the photograph. Crowley realizes Aziraphale saved him, he realizes how much he can trust him, and if my observed light bulb headlight moment is anything, it happened after the final 15 too. He knows. It's still devastating, it's still heartbreaking, and it doesn't invalidate all the feelings and love they couldn't quite come out and communicate right then. They are living under an Orwellian regime, this isn't really a job they can quit or even run away from. They were angels created for a purpose. Sure gabriel and Beelzebub left, but how long until someone tries to hunt them down? Plus, what's the point if Crowley and Aziraphale abandon Earth and just let armageddon part two happen? That's a pretty shit thing of them to do. They want to live on Earth, they want to protect the humans, and they want to do it together.

They didn't eat the apple, the humans did. Maybe at the end of season 3, they'll get their chance.

[probably-writing-x]

Fault (Part Three)

“She’s gone. She’s fucking gone,” Conrad drags both hands through his hair, tugging on the strands to release any ounce of his frustrations.

“What do you mean she’s gone?” Steven frowns, watching Conrad’s movements as he paces the room.

“I mean she left, Steven,” He snaps, “Her stuff’s gone, her suitcase isn’t in Belly’s room, her keys are gone. It’s all fucking gone.”

“Okay, okay, what do we do about it?” Steven persists, “What can we do?”

“I don’t know,” Conrad shakes his head, “What the fuck is happening, Steven?”

Steven watches his normally stoic friend crumble just a little in front of him, his eyes filling with tears he won’t let fall.

“We should be happy, you know?” Conrad half-laughs, “We should be fucking happy.”

“I know,” Steven sighs, “How Jere and my sister are being is really shitty, I get it. But you can’t let that ruin things with you and (Y/n). It’s not worth it.”

Conrad falls silent, running a hand over his face.

“Get your car, go and find her, okay?” Steven says, “You need to go.”

Something switches in Conrad at the words and he nods, eyes scanning the room to find his car keys. He grabs them and stuffs them into his pocket, checking his phone to make sure there still wasn’t any text from you. He doesn’t say another word, hurrying past Steven and down the stairs.

At the base of the staircase, his brother stands, knocking into Conrad at the exact moment that he comes flying down.

“Conrad-“ Jeremiah begins, watching as Conrad reaches for the front door.

He stops in his tracks and turns around, glancing at his younger brother, “This was never about you Jere. And until you realise that, I have nothing to say to you.”

The door slams behind him and he’s hit with the harsh chill of the breeze sweeping across the driveway. It seems oddly empty without your car parked up on the far side but he fuels himself with every emotion coursing through him, his car driving away from the house before it feels like he’s taken a breath.

———

The roads are too empty as he drives, knowing there are only a single pair of headlights he’s hoping to see. He gets out of Cousins, just down the road that would take him towards the highway. And then the realisation hits. There was only one place you’d go before jumping the gun to drive home.

He indicates and turns into the gas station, parking up in front of the small storefront. Your car is parked up in the bay beside his and he feels his chest ease, pressing the heel of his hand against his heart until he notices himself relax.

It’s relatively empty inside apart from someone talking to the person working at the counter. And just above one of the short aisles, he spots the back of your head, tilted down as you’re browsing, completely oblivious to him. He walks over until he’s stood directly beside you, both of you in silence.

You’ve got two bags of crisps in your hands, trying to decide between the two, “Which one do I pick?”

Conrad stands so close beside you that his arm bumps against yours, igniting the tiniest bit of comfort back into him, “Those ones.”

He points down at one of the packets and you decide to take his word, setting down the other back onto the shelf before you turn to face him.

“Hi,” He says softly, looking down at you.

You look up, “How did you know I was here?”

“You never drive home without stopping first.”

You smile briefly, the warmth holding you for a moment, before the reality returns, “I can’t go back there Conrad.”

He watches the way your bottom lip trembles at the words and reaches out to hold you, his eyes searching until yours met his, “We don’t have to.”

You lean forward and rest your head on his chest, feeling the tension inside of you evaporate at his touch.

“Let’s go, come on,” He stretches out a hand, palm up waiting for your own.

Without a second thought, you lace your fingers with his. He walks the pair of you to the register - stopping on the way to pick up a toothbrush and toothpaste. You stop at your car on the way over and he takes your bag out of the trunk, taking it over to his own car and tossing it onto the back seats. You climb into the passenger seat and he sets a hand on your thigh when he isn’t changing gears.

It isn’t more than a couple of minutes before you reach your destination, the motel just down the street from the gas station. It was always at least half-empty and the sign at the front flickered every few seconds, buzzing in its illumination.

You pay up at the reception and the lady gives you a key to a room on the far end, Room 23. There’s a lantern above the doorframe and the numbers on the wooden door are painted pale blue, though it seems to have faded and chipped in it’s weathering. Conrad unlocks the door and both of you step inside. It’s a small room, made seemingly smaller by the dark burgundy walls that seem to draw the space inwards. The floors are wooden and the room is cold, even in the summer weather. There’s a double bed against the left wall, and a small table and chairs next to the window at the front of the room, a desk and small standing closet against the wall on the right, a bathroom at the far end where the door is slightly ajar.

“Well, this is luxury,” Conrad comments, closing the door behind the pair of you.

He walks around the room as if inspecting it, glancing into the bathroom. You walk over to the bed and sit down on the edge, your hands in your lap. Conrad turns around and his features soften, walking slowly over to you. He crouches down in front of you and holds your hands in his.

“We’re going to figure it out, okay?” He says softly, taking a deep breath as if encouraging you to breathe with him.

“They’re just so sure this is going to fail,” You whisper, “The way they spoke about you Con it’s like… it’s like they’re just expecting you to fuck up everything.”

“Okay,” Conrad nods, “And do you believe them?”

“No, God, I know it’s not true I just-“

“Okay,” He repeats, so softly, “That’s all I need.”

You let out a little laugh, “That’s it? Conrad what about them-“

“I’m not thinking about them,” He stands up slowly and you tilt your head up to look at him, his hands cupping either side of your face, “I’m thinking about you.”

Your stomach gives you the same butterflies it had when you’d first kissed Conrad, when he’d first held you in his arms and made you feel so sure that he was all you needed.

He leans down until his nose bumps yours, nudging you as if he wanted to see any glimpse of assurance in you. When your lips curl into a smile. he kisses them as if to seal it there.

“That’s my girl,” He mumbles as he pulls away from your lips.

You hum in agreement, reaching your hands up to grab at the shoulders of his shirt, pulling him down onto the top of you as you fall back onto the mattress, “Say that again.”

———

You wake up the following morning wrapped in Conrad’s arms, a welcome contrast from the cold of the room. He’s asleep beside you, his arm underneath you wrapped around your back as your head rests on his chest. You trail your fingers up his skin, towards his jaw where you lean up and press a kiss.

He groans as he awakes, tensing underneath you before relaxing into your touch.

“Good morning,” You hum, snuggling into him closer.

He grumbles something close to a response and tightens his arm around you.

“Did you sleep okay?” You ask him, drawing swirls around his chest.

Conrad hums, “It’s fucking freezing in here.”

You giggle, “Yeah the air con is definitely broken. And that window doesn’t shut properly.”

“I promise our next night away will be a little more romantic than this,” Conrad blinks his eyes awake and looks down at you, tucking an arm under his head to watch you from a better angle.

“I don’t know, I’d say it was pretty romantic,” You turn over and lean up onto your elbows, smiling at him.

He reaches a hand over and brushes the hair away from your face, his hands stopping on your neck, where a mark from the night before was darkening into a blotchy purple just beneath your jaw, “Oh god I’m sorry.”

You giggle, “Nothing that concealer won’t cover.”

Conrad smiles, “You know, I have a present for you.”

You raise your brows, “A present?”

He hums, “It’s in the pocket of my jacket, I was going to give it to you last night but it didn’t feel like the time.”

“Can I get it?” You grin, already stretching up from him as if you were about to dart from the bed.

He nods and you jump up, hurrying over to the other side of the room to get his jacket. You were dressed in his t-shirt from the night before and nothing else, it hung just around your thighs and he watches as you bend down to pick up his jacket from the chair. He’s sure, in that moment, he falls in love all over again. He watches you like you’re simply angelic. Like in the darkest moments of his life, it would still be possible for you to brighten it. He could hold you in his arms and convince himself that it would be forever. And he knows, despite every ounce of reluctance to be vulnerable he’s had before, he would do what he could to fight for you.

You pull out the small velvet pouch from his pocket and smile widely, brushing your thumb over the soft material. When you turn around, Conrad is laying with his arm folded under his head, the sheets hanging low over his waist and the skin of his chest golden in the dim morning light. He’s smiling at you lazily, softly. And you’re sure he could be everything you ever needed. That, when the younger version of yourself thought of her knight in shining armour, it was him you were thinking of. Someone just as loving, as thoughtful, as honest, as handsome. All the small somethings that could make up everything. Your heart swells and you feel yourself fall in love all over again - hoping for the same feeling every day.

“Okay can I open it now?” You ask excitedly, perching yourself on the edge of the bed beside him.

He nods, shifting himself back in the bed so that he sits back against the headboard.

You pull open the strings and look inside the small bag, pulling out a thin gold chain - one decorated with a small pendant engraved with the curve of the letter ‘C’.

“Con-“ You begin softly, feeling the lump form in your throat.

“You don’t have to say you like it if you don’t and you can always not we-“

“I love it.”

You watch him visibly relax, the worry releasing into a bright smile, “Here.”

He takes it from you and you turn around, pulling your hair to the side so that he can fix the chain around the back of your neck. His fingers brush gently over the skin and he presses a soft kiss there before you turn back to face him.

His initial sits perfectly over your chest, over the material of his t-shirt. His.

“I know it might feel early to say it, but I think I’d be stupid not to,” Conrad lets out a laugh, “I love you.”

“I love you too,” You say the words so quickly after him that it’s as if they fit seamlessly together.

He grins widely, pulling you into him.

All you’d ever need.

———

You both shower and get changed - Conrad borrowing back the one t-shirt of his you’d packed in with your things. It’s only then that you check your phone.

Laurel: Just let us know that you’re safe

Susannah: Is Conrad with you honey? I don’t want you to be on your own

You type back a response to Laurel and send it over, telling her that you were okay and that you were sorry. You reply to Susannah telling her Conrad had found you last night. They both reply almost instantly with their evident relief.

There was another notification that a message had come through from Belly but it had been deleted before you got a chance to read it.

“Ready to go darling?” You glance up and Conrad is stood in the doorway of the bathroom, running a hand through his hair.

“Your Mom and Laurel were asking after us,” You mention, picking your bag up from the bed beside you.

“Yeah?” Conrad walks over and takes the bag from your hand without a second thought, “What did you tell them?”

“That we were together and we were both okay,” You reply, following him out of the room.

“Does that mean we don’t have to go back now?” He jokes, glancing back to wait for you, reaching out a hand for you to take.

“Yeah, lets just never go back, we’ve already said we could,” You smile, ducking under his arm so that he can wrap it around your shoulders.

You interlock your fingers with his arm around you, brushing your thumb over the soft skin. Conrad hums in agreement and pulls you into him a little, kissing the top of your head quickly.

As the two of you steer towards the car, you both stop in your tracks.

Jeremiah’s truck, parked two spots down from Conrad’s - Belly, Jeremiah and Steven stood leaning against the hood. They all stand up straighter when they see you.

“What are you doing here?” Conrad speaks harshly, coldly.

“Conrad,” Jeremiah responds as is he’s instantly hoping it will calm the situation down, “We wanted to speak to you. To both of you.”

“You’re not starting this again, okay? I’m not having you argue with us until we-“

“We’re not here to argue with you,” Steven interjects, glancing at the two beside him, “We just wanted to sort things out.”

You glance over at Belly and your hand slips down from Conrad’s, yours falling down at your side. She looks at you and her brows furrow as if with sympathy, offering you a small smile that you somewhat return. Conrad’s arm moves away from your shoulders but his fingers bump yours as soon as they’re at his side, as if reminding you he was still there. You see Belly swallow the lump in her throat.

“Well, talk,” Conrad shrugs, “I didn’t pay for a late checkout so can we hurry this shit along.”

“We were in the wrong last night,” Jeremiah begins, glancing between the two of you, “We didn’t mean for it to come across the way it did. (Y/N) we were just looking out for you, and we were looking at this all wrong. Conrad clearly cares about you, and we were wrong for thinking that it was anything less than that.”

Conrad is unmoving, like he’s happy to completely ignore what’s being said.

“If you two want to be together, that’s not our place to get involved. We should be happy for you,” Jeremiah glances at you, “And we are.”

“Okay,” Conrad shrugs, “And you?”

His attention turns to Belly.

“I mean, Jere can say we all he wants but what do you want to say?” He persists, “(Y/N)’s meant to be your best friend Belly, did you forget that?”

Part of you almost expects yourself to stop him - like you should be telling him it was too far, or you didn’t want to upset her, or you didn’t want to make things worse. But he was right. And it needed to be said, when you felt like you couldn’t say it yourself.

“I’m sorry,” Belly’s voice cracks over the words and the loyalist in your heart reaches out for her, “I never meant for it to get like this. I never- I never knew how you felt about Conrad, and I hate myself for not realising it sooner, and for not letting you feel like you could tell me how you felt. But it won’t be like that now, I promise. I don’t want you to have to hide anything from us any more.”

You feel a tension in your chest settle and your shoulders relax, Conrad’s hand brushing yours again with how close the two of you stood together.

“Thank you,” You half-whisper, offering her your most sincere smile.

“Alright,” Steven clasps his hands together, “We good?”

You look at Belly and for the first time in days feel like you’re actually looking at your best friend, “We’re good.”

“Okay let’s get out of here, please,” Steven encourages, clasping Jere and Belly on the shoulders either side of him, “We’ll see you guys at home?”

“Yeah, we’ll be right behind you,” Conrad nods, watching as the three of them turn around to pile into the car.

They drive off to leave the two of you stood in your own company once again. Conrad turns to you and you can see the tension still caught between his features.

“Are you happy?” He says softly, his hand reaching out to squeeze yours.

You nod, “I am.”

He relaxes almost instantly, like he needed any confirmation from you before he could react. His fingertips reach out to you, brushing over the necklace on your chest, his thumb pressing the C pendant.

“Ready to go home?”

You nod again.

He wraps an arm around you and picks up your bag from the floor, squeezing you tightly.

———

The house feels lighter when you return, like it’s flooded with relief. You’d stopped on the way to pick up your car from the gas station, driven the rest of the way following behind Conrad - who had made sure you were in his rear view mirrors for the whole way home.

You both step into the house to the smell of baking and sweetness and some level of mayhem.

“What’s going on?” You frown, walking through to the kitchen.

“We thought we’d make muffins,” Belly smiles, “Although we were hoping they’d be done by the time you got home.”

You laugh, “Yeah, sorry, maybe I should’ve driven a bit slower.”

Belly laughs, “It’s our fault. Steven refused to help and Jeremiah can’t follow instructions.”

“I wouldn’t trust them to do it anyway,” You reply, “Belly baking has always been the best.”

Conrad walks through after you and he stops quickly, “Sorry, I’m not interrupting am I?”

You go to respond but the words catch on your tongue.

“Of course not!” Belly beams, “Just waiting for the muffins to bake.”

Conrad nods, “As long as they’re better than the ones you made at Christmas.”

“That was one bad batch!” Belly exclaims, waving the spatula in his direction.

He raises his hands in defence, “I said what I said.”

They both laugh and for a moment you feel like you need to capture it, like it was a bit of normalcy you’d been missing for far too long. Conrad glances at you and smiles and you smile too, both sharing in the relief.

“These will be ready in five, the boys are out by the pool if you want to join us out there,” Belly offers.

You nod, “Yeah, sure, let me just get changed.”

You walk out and Conrad follows after you, taking your bag up the stairs behind you. When the two of you reach the top, you both stop in your tracks.

“Am I supposed to stay with you or with Belly?”

Conrad laughs, “You’re not supposed to do anything, it’s up to you.”

“But will she be mad at me if I don’t stay with her? Or is it weird if I don’t stay with the guy I’m seeing?” You drag a hand through your hair.

He shakes his head, smiling at you, “(Y/n) don’t overthink it. It’s just a bed to stay in.”

You nod, Conrad spoke to calmly and softly when he spoke to you that it made you certain that you could believe him, every single time.

“Not to skew your decision or anything but I would obviously prefer if you stayed with me.”

You roll your eyes, “Of course you would Con.”

You step past him in the direction of your room and he follows after you, hand reaching out to grab your waist. You giggle as the two of you stumble into the comfort of his room and he closes the door behind you.

“So, I’ve either got navy, or this blue one, or red,” You hold up three bikinis in your hand and Conrad raises his brows, “Which one?”

He furrows his brows as if he’s deciding before he says, “Blue.”

“Blue it is,” You return, turning around so that you can start getting changed.

Conrad flops down onto the bed and leans onto his elbows, watching you.

“Stop staring,” You turn around and narrow your eyes at him, “Can you tie this at the back for me?”

You walk backwards until you’re at the bed and he sits up straighter so that he can tie the elasticated strings at the back of your neck, his fingers delicate over your skin. When he’s done, he runs his hands over your shoulders, leaning in so he can press a kiss to your back.

You turn around in his arms and look down at where he sits, running your hands through his hair, “I’ll meet you downstairs.”

He hums in agreement and flutters his eyes closed at your touch, like he wants to lean up into it.

“Keep it in your pants, Fisher,” You grin, grabbing your towel, phone and book from the side and heading back out of the room.

When you get back downstairs, Belly is just taking the muffins out of the oven, and she turns around to catch your eyeline as she sets them down on the counter.

“Ooh they look good,” You smile, “And they smell good too.”

She grins up at you but her expression falters for just a second, her smile returning a moment later. Though, it had disappeared for just long enough for you to notice the light slip from her eyes momentarily.

“Did Conrad get you that?” She gestures towards your pendant.

Your hand flies to the necklace as if you’d forgotten it was there, brushing over the gold, “Oh, um, yeah, he gave it to me this morning.”

“It’s beautiful,” She says softly, “I’m surprised he can be so romantic.”

You laugh a little, trying to force the awkwardness from your lungs, “Yeah I was surprised too.”

“I don’t want you to-“ Belly shakes her head, “I don’t want you to feel like you can’t tell me things. Like, I want you to feel like we can still talk about boyfriend stuff, you know? I mean, if you want to.”

You nod, “Come on, if I can’t talk to you about it I can’t talk to anyone.”

She laughs, looking down to start pulling the muffins from their tray, “So Cameron swiped up on my story a couple of days ago.”

“What?” You gasp, “Cam Cameron?!”

She laughs and her eyes crease in the way they do when they’re at their brightest, “Yeah it’s weird right? I don’t really know what he’s thinking is going to happen but-“

“Oh come on, the boy was head over heels for you,” You scoff, “I think I know exactly what he’s thinking.”

She laughs again and both of you settle into silence, smiling at each other like you hadn’t seen each other in forever.

“Why don’t you give him a second chance? He was sweet.”

Her eyes drift outside to where Jeremiah is laying across one of the loungers, “Yeah, maybe.”

“Jere?!” You exclaim, eyes wide, “Wh-“

You’re stopped as Conrad walks into the room, dressed only in a pair of swim shorts, “What about him?”

You glance at him and your lips part as if you’re about to speak but you stop yourself, “None of your business Fisher.”

He raises his hands in defence and steps past you, squeezing your hip as he goes behind you, “Forget I asked.”

You glance back to Belly and she mouths a silent thank you.

“You coming?” Conrad looks back at you before he steps outside.

You nod, “Yeah,” Turning back to Belly, you say, “This conversation isn’t done, okay? We have a lot to talk about.”

She giggles and nods, a flurrying blush on her cheeks, “Okay, okay.”

“What was that about?” Conrad asks you as the two of you step outside, him following close behind you.

“I’m not telling you,” You shake your head, “Girl code, Conrad, you wouldn’t understand.”

“You know things were easier when you two weren’t friends,” He points out, jokingly, and you jab him in the side as a ‘don’t even mention it’.

You walk over to the other two boys and set your things down on the lounger next to Jeremiah, watching as he opens his eyes at the sound of you near him.

“Hey,” He says, leaning up onto his elbows, “We were waiting for you so we could start a volleyball game, do you want to play?”

“Of course I do,” You grin, “Come on Con.”

You look back at him as he flops down onto the lounger the other side of you, closing his eyes.

“Are you shutting down?”

He hums in agreement, his eyes still softly closed.

“Alright Jere, me and you against Belly and Steven,” You encourage, “Who needs Conrad?”

He squints his eyes open and cocks a brow at you, “Excuse me?”

You grin and hurry off to the pool where Jeremiah and Steven have both jumped in, both of them yelling over to Belly to join them too. Conrad leans up onto his elbows and watches you as you push yourself off from the side and into the water, swimming over to Jeremiah’s side. He smiles, thankful for the moments of normalcy amongst a hectic few days. You were back with your friends, the people that had brought you and Conrad together in the first place. And it was a relief that you weren’t losing them anymore. His eyes drift to Jeremiah as the two of you pass the ball between each other and he wonders for a moment what is going through his brother’s head. Did he still have feelings for you? Had they already gone away?

But then Conrad looks at you again and you’re throwing your head back laughing at something Steven had said. And he knows then he has nothing to ever be afraid of. Whoever it was, whatever feelings were there, it was his initial still around your neck, his heart you’d go back to. And the jealousy he thought he’d always have just seems to disappear. Maybe that’s how it was supposed to be.

You’re in the water with the others for a while, you and Jere winning the first game, Belly and Steven winning the next, and you and Jere taking victory on the last one. After an over-the-top celebration just to really force your win, you climb out of the water and walk over to Conrad, where he’s laying with his attention tucked into the pages of your book, eyes scanning the words of the page.

When you’re stood over him, blocking the sun, he glances up.

“Did you win?” He asks, setting the book down beside him, double checking that he hadn’t lost your page.

“You weren’t watching?” You gasp, “I should be offended.”

“I saw the first game, but you keep talking about this book and I wanted to know what all the fuss was about,” He comments, sitting up a little on the lounger so that you can sit down on the edge beside him.

“It’s good right?” You grin, “I knew you’d like it.”

“I’ll read it when you’re done,” He says, hiding the hints of a smile.

“We can just read it together,” You encourage, “I’m not far into it.”

“Alright enough of the couples shit, you coming?” Steven climbs out of the pool and the other two follow after him.

“Yeah, we’ll be there now,” You nod, standing back up.

“We’ll be where?” Conrad frowns.

“Lunch!”

You outstretch a hand for him to take and he groans, stepping off of the lounger to follow you with his hand locked in yours.

———

After a full day at the pool, Jeremiah suggests that you all have a movie night and order a takeaway, since Laurel and Susannah were out tonight. You oblige and they settle on ordering pizza. Steven had found a case of beer left over from the party and you were all in the kitchen waiting for the door to ring to tell you the pizza was here.

“I just think you can’t go wrong with a cheesy pizza you know?” Jeremiah shrugs, taking a sip from the beer bottle in his hand.

“But that’s just boring, it’s not a pizza without toppings!” Steven exclaims, stood on the adjacent side of the island to Jeremiah.

Belly was stood next to the younger Fisher brother and you’d made a point of widening your eyes at her when she had. She’d blushed and looked away from you.

“Of course it’s still a pizza!” Belly retorts, “You’re just weird.”

“Is Steven going on his pizza rant again?” Conrad comments, walking through into the kitchen.

“I just think-“

The doorbell rings to cut him off and Jeremiah hurries over to answer the door. Belly mentions that she’ll set up the movie and Steven follows her with the crate of beer.

“You okay babe?” You ask Conrad, turning around to him.

He puts his hands on either side of his hips and takes a slow step towards you, his hair falling over his forehead and making him look even more youthful.

“So, I love seeing you back with these guys, and it’s obviously a lot better that they don’t hate us anymore,” He speaks slowly, “But I-“

“You want it to be just us two?”

He smiles a little, “I feel like I haven’t seen you all day, I miss you.”

You chuckle, “You miss me?”

“I think I’ve got too used to it being just us,” He laughs a little, placing his hands onto your waist, “Can we go back to that?”

“Okay, we eat pizza, we watch whatever film Belly chooses, and then we go to bed,” You suggest, “We can watch a film together, read that book, whatever you want.”

“Whatever I want?” He cocks a brow.

“Keep it in your pants!” You gasp, grabbing his hand and pulling him with you into the lounge.

He chuckles and follows in after you, his hand not leaving yours.

“Okay, okay, make room for the couple,” Steven grins at the two of you, shuffling over on the couch so that there’s room for you two to sit together.

You flop down onto the elongated side of the couch, legs stretched over the leg rest as Conrad grabs a plate and piles a few slices on.

He drops down beside you and you prop yourself up beside him as he holds the plate out for you.

Belly starts the film and Jere flicks off the light, the two of them taking places on the other end of the couch.

You pause for a moment and breathe it all in. Conrad beside you, all of your other favorite people to keep you company too. It was what you wanted. The simplicity of it all. And it really feels like this could work. You’re sure of it then more than ever.

———

You’re not sure what time it is when your eyes blink open. The TV is turned onto standby, the pizza boxes cleared from the table, the lights in the room reduced to a single lamp next to the couch. Conrad is beneath you, his arm wrapped around your torso, your head resting on his chest, legs tangled together.

“Con,” You whisper, leaning up onto your elbow to look down at him.

His eyes are closed and you bring up your hand to brush over the hair falling over his forehead. He hums at the contact, his nose scrunching softly as he wakes.

“I think we fell asleep,” You say quietly, trailing your fingers down his cheek.

He frowns a little and glances around the empty room, shifting his other arm to wrap around your waist and pull you over the top of him. You giggle and rest your legs on either side of him, your hands settling on his chest.

“So are you happier now?” Conrad asks, his hands strong on your waist, his words still laced a little with fatigue.

You nod your head in the dim room, smiling down at him, “Everything felt normal today.”

Conrad smiles back, “How about a date tomorrow night? We’ll go somewhere nice, just us two.”

You grin, “Somewhere nice? Like back to the motel?”

He chuckles deeply and you feel it rumble in his chest, “No, nicer than the motel.”

You hum and dip your head down to press a kiss to his jaw, “I don’t know, I kind of liked it, especially last night.”

He tightens his grip on your waist, “Well, we’re the only ones here…”

—

Taglist: @parkerdayaa @maybankslover @sobergirl92 @elcpsstuff @amazonabxtch @jackierose902109 @drewsandsebastianswife @enamoredwithbella @stylesxroyalty @maniac-penguin @laylasbunbunny

[e-dubbc11]

Still?

Photos are not mine. They are courtesy of Pinterest/Google.

Pairing: Dean Winchester x F! Hunter Reader

Warnings: Swear words, mentions of guns and gunshot wounds, smexy imagination (f! Receiving oral), mentions of death, a few tears, smooches, alludes to sex

Word Count: 3.9K-ish

Summary: After a run in with a shapeshifter and the local police, you end up with a bullet wound that you can’t patch up yourself. You call your best friend that you haven’t seen in a couple of years and that you’ve been in love with since you were kids

A/N: Spoilers for anyone that’s never watched the show, or watched past season 5. This takes place a couple of years after the apocalypse and Sam goes into the cage with Lucifer and Dean shows up at Lisa’s door.

As always, thank you for reading!  I appreciate it so much and comments, reblogs are welcome and encouraged. Don’t be shy to tell me your favorite part. 💕💕 💕

Your escape hadn’t been easy but you managed to get away and with only one bullet wound courtesy of the local police. Of course they didn’t believe you when you told them that the “person” they were tracking wasn’t you, it was only someone who looked exactly like you.

The shifter would have to wait, you needed this bullet out of your oblique muscle now but you weren’t going to be able to get it out by yourself and there was no way you could go to a hospital with your face plastered all over the news.

But you were alone without anyone to call. Well, that’s not exactly true, there was one person you could call but you did not want to see him. However, what other choice did you have?

After checking into a motel outside of town (they probably hadn’t seen the news yet), you texted him.

You awake? I need your help.

It was late so you were surprised to see the three dots immediately appear underneath your message.

On my way. Text me your location.

You gave him the address of the motel and he wrote back that he was about 40 minutes away so all you could do was sit and wait.

The sky had been in a vengeful mood all day and finally after a particularly loud crack of thunder, the sky split in half and you could hear the rain hammering against the roof and pelting the hoods of the cars outside your door.

Hoping it wouldn’t impede his arrival time, the incessant rainstorm dumped buckets of rain leaving massive puddles in the parking lot and the runoff water sounded like a waterfall falling into the storm drain.

After you sent the text, he was all you could think about…Dean Winchester. He was your childhood friend, fellow hunter and the man who’s had your heart ever since you were kids…although he didn’t know it.

**********

You met Dean, his brother Sam, and their father John when you were 12. Dean was 14 and Sam was 10. You and your mother were crashing at Bobby’s for a couple of days after a particularly draining hunt for a vampire nest.

The only familiar voice coming from downstairs was Bobby’s, but there were also three others so you decided to investigate while your mother was still sleeping off your first big kill.

Creeping down the stairs, you tried to make as little noise as possible and as you peered around the corner, the cutest boy you had ever seen was directly in your line of sight.

He was wearing a brown leather jacket, had light brown hair, eyes the color of summer grass, and a sprinkling of freckles across his nose. Immediately, your heart started beating faster and you felt flutters in your stomach. You were smitten.

Suddenly, the stairs creaked underneath your feet, they all turned and saw you standing there staring at all of them with a nervous smile on your face. Your heart was beating even faster now, heat rushed to your cheeks, and the palms of your hands became very warm.

You remembered you had just gotten out of bed after a long nap so you nervously and absentmindedly started to smooth your hair and adjust your clothes while averting your gaze from Dean to your Henley shirt and jeans.

“Well look who’s awake. C’mere, sweetie, I’d like you to meet some friends of mine.” Said Bobby.

Feeling your knees beginning to shake, you slowly walked over to them, and stopped next to Bobby. Your eyes darted back and forth from Bobby back to the Winchesters as you gave them a slight smile and wave.

“Y/n, these are the Winchesters. That’s John, Dean and Sam. Y/n and her mother are resting here for a couple of days after a vamp hunt.” Bobby stated.

Dean looked a little surprised to know that you were a hunter too but learned quickly after a few hunts together that your mother taught you well. Also, after meeting your mother, she and John went on to have a brief relationship. Sometimes, they left the three of you behind to go off on their own hunts so you got to know Dean and Sam very well.

It was just nice to have friends in a “profession” where you normally worked alone.

You helped them anytime they needed you to and they would do the same for you. The three of you had been through a lot together, losing the only parents you had left, helping them track down the yellow-eyed demon that killed their mother, and trying to help Sam get Dean out of the pit of hell.

As you grew into adults and while on hunts, there were plenty of shared motel rooms, literally being in tight spaces, listening to the water run while he was in the shower, wondering if there were eyes on the other side of the door as you changed clothes…your sexual feelings for Dean were growing stronger too and you had gathered up the courage to maybe finally tell him.

But then it all vanished like air from a popped balloon.

You weren’t there when it happened, you were off on a hunt of your own but Bobby told you about Sam getting locked in the cage with Lucifer. Knowing that Dean must be devastated, you tried to call but there was no answer. And the next time you called, a woman answered which prompted you to quickly hang up.

“I didn’t want this for ya, kid.” Bobby had said, trying to console you.

Fresh sobs escaped from your throat. “Why didn’t he come to me, Bobby?!! He’s my best friend and he went to someone else?! She doesn’t know him like I do! She doesn’t know the life!” You cried.

Bobby was like a father figure to you and he tried, he really did but he didn’t know what to do to try and make it better.

“I know, kiddo. I know.” Bobby said softly. “I got somethin’ to tell ya, though. We need your help.”

Confused by the term “we”, you swiped the tears away from your cheeks and heard the front door open. Sam walked in and they both explained everything that was going on, how they’re purposely leaving Dean out of it because he was happy living a normal life which just made you sad but you agreed to help hunt down a powerful group of djinn that was after the boys for killing one of their own awhile back.

They were closing in on Dean. They stalked him, caused him to hallucinate, see things that weren’t there which is when Sam and Bobby decided to pull Dean back into it and that was when you had to walk away. He was already on your mind all day every day but you couldn’t see him again. It hurt too much, he hurt you too much.

But the brothers were back together again, you were saving people and hunting things by yourself which probably wasn’t a great idea but you’ve hunted alone since your mother’s passing. Now, you’re stuck outside of a shit town and waiting for the best friend you haven’t seen in over two years to come and help you.

What were you going to say to him?

Well, you had about 20 minutes left to try and figure it out.

**********

You could hear the low growl of the Impala and as it grew closer, the growl became a rumble before it stopped completely when Dean turned off the engine. The room was completely quiet; you didn’t have the tv or the radio on as you sat at the kitchen table carefully listening to the drumming of the rain up above you and trying not to wince at the pain in your side from the bullet. Then you heard the signature door squeak as it slammed shut, followed by five loud raps against the motel room door.

“Sweetheart, are you in there? Open up!” Shouted Dean over the rain.

“Sweetheart?” You whispered to yourself. “He has a lot of damn nerve!”

Turning to face the door, you yelled out, “IT’S OPEN!”

Dean stormed through the door.

“Are you nuts?!!” He yelled, coldly.

“Jury’s out on that one, Winchester. Lock the door behind ya, will ya?” You replied, your voice dripping with sarcasm.

He glared at you. “Leavin’ the door unlocked, y/n…seriously, what is wrong with you?!”

You closed your eyes, shrugged and frowned in his direction.

“Alright…show me what happened. I heard your name all over the news…shapeshifter?” Asked Dean.

You nodded and showed him the wound on your back, right on the love handle.

“You sure the bullet didn’t come out?” Dean asked.

“Uh yeah, I think I would have noticed if I had another hole in front, Dean!!” You yelled through gritted teeth.

“Well you don’t have to yell at me! I’m here aren’t I? Actually, I’m surprised you texted me, Sam busy or somethin’?” He asked with a sly smile on his face.

“You know he’s working on something else so don’t play dumb with me Dean Winchester!” You hissed.

He was frustrating you to no end and he’s been there for five minutes.

“Get this bullet out of me now before I bleed out all over this floor!” You said.

Dean pointed toward the bathroom.

“Ok, ok, get in the bathroom, hands on the counter but before you do that, you’re gonna have to inch your pants down a little.” He said.

Caught off guard, you stumbled over your words.

“U-uh…y-you want m-me to do what?”

“Just inch them down a little bit; they’re just gonna be in the way if you leave them in place.” He said.

Dean set up everything he needed to extract the bullet on the counter. The only anesthetic he had with him was alcohol which took away only a fraction of the pain whether you were drinking it or pouring it on the wound.

The look on your face could have scalded paint off of the walls and your voice was tight with anger as you weaved a web of profanities so obscene, you would have probably made a sailor blush. Dean had finally managed to get the bullet out intact, stop the bleeding, and put a bandage on the wound.

“Thank you.” You said sheepishly as if you didn’t just spend an hour cursing his very existence.

Another sly smile stretched across his lips as he finally replied, “You’re welcome, sweetheart. You have some sweats or somethin’? Jeans are gonna be too harsh to rub against the wound.”

You did have some in your bag that was on one of the beds.

“They’re in my bag. I’ll get them.” You said starting to walk out of the bathroom.

He held his hands out in front of you, “Whoa, no…I’ll get them, just stay right here.” He said.

With your hand resting on the counter, you tried to take the weight off of your left side while Dean ran out to the other room to get your sweatpants. The bullet wound was really quite painful.

He set the sweats on the counter, inched closer to you and reached for the waistband of your jeans.

“Hey, hey…what are you doin’? I can do it myself, ya know.” You said in a scolding tone.

He folded his arms across his chest and with narrowed eyes, and asked with a smirk “Oh really? Ok, well I’ll be right on the other side of that door. Call me when you need my help because you will.”

He tapped you gently on the nose.

Scoffing at him, you tried your best to get your jeans off and put your sweatpants on but the pain was just too much. You were definitely going to need his help.

Softly, you called out to him.

“Deeeeeean?”

You could feel him smiling on the other side of the door.

“Yessssssss? You need some help in there or somethin’?” He asked in a semi-taunting voice.

Deflated, you replied, “Yes please.”

Dean slowly opened the door with a wide smile on his face, walked toward you and once again reached for the waistband on your jeans. Gently, he inched them down your thighs, all the way to your ankles before he had you rest your hands on his shoulders so he could take them off completely. If he only knew what this was doing to you.

He was eye level with your core, looking up at you through his long lashes with those beautiful green eyes of his and all you could think about was what it would be like to have his face buried in between your thighs, tasting you, and tongue fucking you until you see stars.

“I still can’t believe you fight monsters in a thong.” He chuckled.

Heat rose to your cheeks as you replied, “Oh my god, not the time! This is SO not the time for that!”

He laughed at you again as he gently pulled the sweatpants up, being careful not to touch your bullet wound, until he was gazing down at you fondly with a slight smirk on his face.

“Come on. I’ll help you to the bed.” He said.

After easing you down onto the bed, Dean started to gather everything he brought inside with him to bring out to the car.

You caught yourself staring at him. Actually, it was more like staring AND clenching. You’ve been in love with Dean Winchester since you were 12 years old and he’s never even tried to kiss you but you’ve wanted him to every single time you have been in the same room with him. He was all you had ever wanted.

As he continued to gather his things and clean up, you finally asked him with a hitch in your voice, “Why?”

“Why what, y/n?” He replied, still shoving things into his bag.

Tears stung the back of your eyes as you answered.

“Why did you go to her and not me after Sam went into the cage?! WHY?!” You asked. “I thought we were best friends, Dean!”

Stunned, Dean knew you weren’t going to let him leave without giving you an answer but the dejected look on his face told you he knew he made a huge mistake cutting you out like he did.

“I-I don’t know, y/n. I really don’t know. I got in the car and I started to dial your number but I stopped myself because I didn’t want you to see me like that! I didn’t want you to see me broken and hollow, ok?!” He said.

“So you went to someone who doesn’t even know you like I do? Doesn’t know the life? Doesn’t know that this life took the people that we loved the most in this world away from us?!! What kind of comfort could she have been to you?!!” You yelled. “Oh wait, nevermind. I actually know the answer to that one.”

“HEY! That is NOT fair!” Dean growled back.

“Oh you wanna talk about fair?! I called, texted, called again…one of those times, SHE answered your phone and I gave up after that. But you didn’t bother to call me back, EVER!! How fuckin’ fair is that, Dean?!” You sobbed with tears streaking down your cheeks.

You could see it in his eyes how angry and hurt he was. Dean’s lips were pulled tight in a straight line and the muscles in his forearms immediately tensed before tightly clenching his fists. He was trying his hardest not to snap back like you knew he wanted to.

Dean then shakily placed his hands on the back of a kitchen chair, leaned forward, and stared down at the floor for a minute before bringing his gaze back up to you.

“Look y/n, I guess I went to Lisa to feel better about myself knowing that I could protect her and Ben, to make up for not being able to protect Sam. You’ve never needed me to protect you, even when we were kids so I just went to them instead where I knew I could be of some use.” Said Dean.

Fighting back your tears but failing miserably, you replied, “When have you ever not been useful, Dean? All I wanted was to comfort my friend, my BEST friend, help you figure out how to get Sam out of the cage…something! But you didn’t give me that chance, did you.”

With his eyes shut tight, Dean pinched the bridge of his nose and let out a low growl. You knew the last thing he ever wanted to do was hurt you but it was too late for that. Over two years had passed since you had seen him last but not a day had gone by where you didn’t think of him, miss him, or not love him. You thought maybe those feelings for Dean would eventually go away, but they never did and they never will.

You were young and it was a childhood crush, it should have gone away but those feelings for him just became stronger as the years passed so when Bobby told you Dean was with someone else it felt as though someone was crushing your heart inside your chest.

That dull ache would never go away and it became a sharp pain as soon as he barged into your room tonight. Seeing him again brought all of those feelings back to the surface, made your entire body tingle, and you wanted him more now than ever before.

The only people that knew your true feelings for Dean were Bobby and your mother. She knew from the minute she met the Winchesters that you had eyes for Dean.

Bobby only found out after he told you about Lisa but you made him promise not to say anything which he had kept tight to his chest until his passing. But you were unsure if Dean had any idea about your feelings for him.

“When have you ever NEEDED my help, y/n?!” Dean asked in a raised tone.

You replied, “NEEDED? Never, I’ve never NEEDED your help or anyone else’s help but I’ll always WANT it! I’ll always want…”

A lump formed in your throat as you finished your sentence.

“You…I’ll always want you, Dean.” You said with trembling lips.

“Say that again.” Said Dean.

Your heart lurched into your throat as you tried to get your words out again. With a deep inhale and a forceful exhale, you told him again.

“I always want you, Dean. I always have.” You finally said.

You could practically see the words bouncing around inside his head like in a pinball machine.

“This is gonna sound really cheesy but I’m tipsy from those shots of whiskey so here goes nothin’…I have never wanted, nor will I ever want, anyone else except you, Dean Winchester. I’ve been in love with you since I was 12 years old, no matter how many times I’ve tried to push it away, no matter how many times I told myself it was ‘just a crush’, and I even told myself that you’d probably never love me back. I still love you!” You said with conviction through tears and a slight nervous chuckle.

“Son of a bitch…I need to sit down.” He said, pressing his palm to his forehead and planting himself in one of the kitchen chairs.

You started to get up off of the bed.

“Lemme get you some wa—“ You started to say.

Dean held out his hand to stop you.

“No! Don’t you dare get up. You’re the one with the bullet wound and I’m just a clueless asshat apparently.” He said.

That made you laugh.

Cutting through the awkward silence, Dean said, “I really can’t explain what it was, what I felt but something happened to me every time I saw you smile, every time you laughed, or hugged me, and even when you poked fun at me. I knew that I never wanted to NOT hear your voice, feel the extra squeeze at the end of your hugs, or see your eyes light up when I walk through the door. Even when you’re pissed at me like earlier tonight, your eyes never lie, you’re STILL happy to see me.”

“Dean…” You started to say but he cut you off again.

“I think that’s why I could never really be in love with Lisa because I was already in love with…you.” Dean said in a low gravelly tone.

His words made your stomach drop, those words that you never thought you would hear other than the love you shared between friends, but he was in love with you too which made your heart soar.

You wanted to go to him so you tried to stand up but again he stopped you.

“Whoa! What did I tell you about getting up, huh? Just stay there. Now what do you need? I’ll get it.” He asked.

“I need you to kiss me, Dean.” You replied in barely more than a whisper.

He stood up, slowly walked over to the bed and gently helped you up to standing.

“You ok?” He asked softly.

You nodded as he titled your chin up so you were looking up into his green eyes. With his hands cupping your cheeks, he leaned down and gently pressed his lips to yours. Dean’s tongue swept your lower lip before parting them and pressing it against your teeth wanting desperately to tangle with yours.

He pulled you flush against him as your arms snaked around his neck and he continued to kiss you hungrily while the ache between your thighs felt like it was going to explode.

Great…what a time to be wounded and in pain.

Dean loved to hear his name fall from your lips over and over again as he kissed up and down your neck and you loved to say it like a favorite song you had memorized all of the words to. You let your fingers glide through his hair as his lips collided with yours again and he whispered again and again how beautiful you were.

You always wondered what this would be like, to have his lips on yours, his calloused hands touching your body, caressing your face, telling you that he loved you and it was everything you hoped it would be; it was the best kiss of your life.

He accidentally got too close to your wound as he moved his hand to your lower back.

“Ow, ow, ow.” You said wincing in pain.

He apologized profusely.

“Oooh shit! I’m sorry, baby. I’m so sorry…for everything.” He said as he gently brushed your cheeks with his knuckles.

You gave him a warm smile and replied, “It’s ok, I still love you, Dean.”

He kissed you again, his lips were soft and tasted like dark roast coffee; you never wanted him to stop.

“Still?” He asked with a wink.

You winked back. “Still.”

“I love you too, sweetheart.” He said, kissing the tip of your nose. “I always will.”

“Always?” You asked, biting back a smile.

Dean licked his lips before kissing you again.

“Always.” He said with a sly smile. “I’m taking you back to the bunker with me and when you’re all healed up? Plan on not leaving my room for at least a couple of days. I’m gonna show you how much I love you, over and over, and over again.” He purred in your ear.

Heat rose to your cheeks, you felt delightful sparks run down your back, and choked on the lump in your throat.

“Well…until then, can you just kiss me over and over and over again?” You asked.

He replied with a warm smile, “I think I can do that, baby.”

Tag List: @munsonownsmyass @gijos @vaguekayla @stoneyggirl2

Others that might enjoy: @k-marzolf @jvanilly @fluffyprettykitty @deans-spinster-witch @imagine-a-fictional-boyfriend

[lynzishell]

The Past 💛 Atlas

As I approach the club, the bass is already thumping from the floor above. Despite the cold, they have the large floor-to-ceiling accordion doors open wide to allow the air to flow for the dancers and DJ. Something I’m sure I’ll be grateful for later.

I notice Ash first, his back is to me with his teal hair practically glowing in the neon lights. He’s standing with Lex and a few of her friends in a circle on the side of the building. I met Lex’s friends once before at a concert last year, but I don’t remember any of their names. They all seem nice enough, but it wasn’t exactly the environment to get to know them, and I doubt tonight will be any different.

“Atlas!!” Lex squeals and runs toward me at full speed when she notices me walking up. I smile and brace myself as she jumps up and attaches herself to me, squeezing the air from my lungs. “I’m so happy you came!”

“Happy Birthday!” I say when she releases her grip, and I set her back on her feet.

“Thank you. Now, give me your hand,” she demands. I do as she says, and she places a small tablet in the center of my palm.

“Aha, what did you bring?” I ask, but she just smiles and pulls on my arm, leading me to the rest of the group.

I wave hello to everyone as we approach, and then sidle up next to Ash and lean into him to say, “Hey.”

He looks up at me and smiles, “Glad you could make it.”

“Did you take one of these?” I ask, showing him the tablet Lex gave me.

“Not yet,” he says, “still deciding if I want to.”

“I’m only going to take half if you want to split it with me.”

“Yeah, actually, that’s a good idea. I hate getting too fucked up.”

“Me too,” I say as I bite the edge of it, careful not to bite it directly in half because I know it will crumble a bit anyway. The flavor is incredibly bitter, almost too much even for me. I feel a little guilty handing the other half to Ash and watching his face twist up as he swallows it.

One of Lex’s friends, a petite girl with a blonde pixie cut and glitter covering her eyelids, hands us her water bottle, “Here, you guys can finish it.”

“Thank you,” I say sincerely. She is now my favorite. “Remind me what your name is?”

“Blair,” she smiles and points to herself

“Right, thank you, Blair.” I take a small sip of water, just enough to wash away whatever crumbs are left behind in my mouth, and then hand the bottle to Ash who happily chugs the rest.

“Thank you so much,” he says to Blair before walking over to toss the bottle in the recycle bin.

Once inside, we stop at the counter to check our jackets with a bubbly woman who is offering everyone a Starburst from a bowl placed conveniently next to a tip jar complete with a QR code to tip digitally if you don’t have cash. I don’t touch the candy, but I do leave a generous tip when I hand her my favorite zip-up hoodie. She hands me back a numbered stub, and I take a photo of it with my phone before shoving it into my pocket, just in case.

I turn to step aside and make room for the others but stop when I see Ash pulling his hoodie up over his head. His t-shirt is stuck to it causing it to rise up and expose the bare skin of his waist. My brain short-circuits, all thoughts leaving my mind aside from the image of wrapping my hands around that waist, of getting on my knees and— “Ow!”

Lex pinches the back of my arm, snapping me back to reality. I look over at her and she points at me, her eyes squinting to a glare behind her glasses, clearly in best-friend-protection mode. “What was that for?” As if I don’t already know. She’s forgiven me for the way I hurt Ash before but obviously not forgotten.

“Don’t play dumb with me. I’m watching you.”

I hold my hands up in surrender, “You have nothing to worry about, I promise.”

“Mhm,” is all she says before turning away and hooking arms with Ash as they walk up the stairs.

Prev // Next

[calmcoldevening]

Pov: You loved vampire!slashers in your past life and now you met them again

TW: mention of blood, biting, vampire and e.t.c

Characters: Vincent Sinclair, Michael Myers, Hannibal Lecter

English is not my native language, so sorry about misspells. I hope you enjoy it ♡

Mieloji (Lithuanian) — Darling

You have just moved to a new small town away from the hustle and bustle of megacities. Surprisingly, you quickly found a place to live and settled into a small house, beautiful and cozy. After unpacking all the things, you decided to explore a new city a little. After all, you've been living here for quite a while, haven't you?

And now you are standing in front of a large mansion, made in the likeness of a certain Gothic style. The massive building was made in dark colors. Large windows with a pleasant view of a surprisingly well-kept garden with bushes of blood-red roses; a dark pointed roof with neat tiles; dark gray walls of the mansion with peeling paint in some places. In front of your face were massive doors made of dark oak with a neat intricate engraving on them. Something like snakes.

You take a deep breath, gathering your courage, and slowly open the door. It does not give in immediately, the old hinges creak disgustingly. And here you are inside. You can see a huge corridor with a large staircase directly opposite the entrance. The interior is made in black and red tones, in some places you can see elements of silver or gold. Huge paintings in gold frames hang on both walls of the lobby. They depict some important people with menacing faces, but you can't make out the text on the captions to the portraits. It's a language you don't know. A huge chandelier with red candles burning on it hangs on the ceiling. Even the very flame on them seems scarlet. And although it's only early autumn outside, it's strangely cool in the mansion. Almost grave cold.

Michael Myers

You notice that your kitten is behaving strangely. Perhaps you shouldn't have taken him to such a strange mansion. The black little animal begins to meow often and asks to get off your hands. You slowly put him on the floor, and he runs straight up the stairs to the second floor.

"Michael, be a good boy and come back!" You mumble in a voice a little louder than a whisper.

Your boy has never been so restless, on the contrary, he was usually even too calm. Even when you first found this baby, he was a quiet, albeit wayward cat. As if he understood you.

"Michael..."

You hear the cat meowing from one of the distant rooms and sigh in defeat. Slowly climbing up the burgundy trunk to the stairs, you hold on to the smooth black railing with your hand. When you reach the back room, you notice Michael sitting on a large velvet bed with a satisfied smile. It was a huge double bed with a gray canopy over it and a carved headboard. A truly aristocratic bed. You come closer, holding out your hands to the kitten.

"Come on, be a good boy, we need to go. We don't want to meet the owner of this place, do we?"

Finally, the cat climbs into your arms and you turn around to leave, but abruptly bump into something. He was a huge man. You back away in fear, landing on the bedspread. You just crashed into his chest...

Your eyes go up, examining the man with horror. He was at least six feet tall, menacing and cold as a statue. His dark curly hair fell in careless curls over his pale face. The man's face was expressionless, and his large copper eyes were bloodshot.

You reflexively hug the cat to you, trying to protect him, and you close your eyes. The man raises his hand and...

Nothing?

Oh.

His big cold palm with rough fingers gently touches your face, stroking your cheek. You slowly open your eyes, looking at the stranger in disbelief. But now his face wasn't so impassive. Behind all this cold facade there was a hint of... Happiness?

The man was standing there, stroking your face, as your kitten jumped to the floor, starting to rub against the man's leg. What a... He never recognized strangers, even hissed at them if someone got too close to you.

You look up at a man, and your eyes meet. Why is he silent?

"Y/ N..." he mutters faintly, and your heart starts beating wildly in your ears.

How does he know your name? A moment later, and the man gets on his knees, hugging you around the waist and putting his head on your lap. Even in this position, he was huge. He covers his red eyes, starting to slowly rub his face against your knees and emit a light purr. Just like a kitten...

"Missed you."

And again just one phrase. But it's enough to make your heart start to ache strangely in your chest. Your hands seem to move by themselves, burrowing into his unruly curls and massaging his tense skin. A strange feeling of deja vu appeared inside. As if it really was before...

Looking up, you don't find a kitten.

"Michael," you mutter softly, frowning, and notice that the man raised his head, looking at you with his puppy dog eyes. His name... Michael? Just like your kitten. You sigh softly and smile at him. The man... No, Michael, he smiles a little in response and you see little fangs peeking out from under his lips. A vampire... But it doesn't scare you. For the first time, nothing scares you. It's like you've finally come home.

Vincent Sinclair

It was a huge picturesque mansion where you wanted to stay longer. All this mysterious interior in the mystical light of blood candles caused a strange excitement in your stomach.

You slowly climb up to the second floor, looking at the paintings and leading your hand along the different railings. A truly blood-stirring place.

Walking to the second floor, your feet lead you to the first room you come across. A spacious room with dark curtains on the windows, inside there were several tables littered with papers and paraffin candles standing on them. But what caught your eye were the drawings. Oh, Father, it was a whole picture gallery! All the walls of the room were hung with old, slightly yellowed and frayed paper. And on each sheet there were different faces, as if alive. You came closer to examine them and... Your face was here. It was almost perfect. The accuracy with which your facial features and your hair were transferred, although they were somewhat longer in the portraits... Your smile is so bright and colorful. Your eyes... It was really you. But you've never worn such strange dresses... And where did your image come from here?

There was a thump behind you, as if something heavy had fallen to the floor. You turn around and freeze in place.

It was a man. He was dressed in unusual clothes for modernity, rather resembling the costumes of the Victorian era. His long hair fell over his broad shoulders, and his face was covered with a snow-white mask. Several heavy volumes of books lay on the floor in front of him. So that's what it fell...

It seems the man is hesitating. His ringed hands are shaking a little as he gathers his thoughts. It was as if he had seen a ghost. Or a goddess.

The stranger is slowly moving towards you, his dark hair flowing over his strong shoulders like silk ribbons. He slowly knelt down, gently hugging you with trembling hands. You feel this cold touch on your hot skin, but it seems almost... comforting. You look down at him, your hands almost reflexively reaching for his hair, gently running through the soft strands. And he shudders. A dull, barely audible whimper fills the room. The man presses closer to your body and mutters something indistinctly.

A simple "Vincent" flashes through your head, and you don't notice how you say it out loud. The man shudders, looking up at you, and your heart freezes. His blood-filled eyes look at you with unprecedented love and tenderness. You're back, they say.

Hannibal Lecter

"You're finally here, Mieloji."

It was a deep male voice that made your blood run cold in your veins. You slowly turned your head towards the stairs, noticing a tall man on it.

He was dressed in a dark suit with a starched white shirt peeking out from under his vest. His entire appearance radiated elegance and sophistication. Those carefully arranged hair on her head, shining in the bloody candlelight. This sweet, but at the same time dangerous, intoxicating snow-white smile with plump pink lips. And, oh, those blood-red eyes looking into the very depths of your trembling soul.

As he slowly descends towards you, you back away, pressing into the wall. The man reaches out to you with his pale hand with neatly sharpened nails, touching your cheek. Only now do you notice how much he towers over you. Like a predator over a prey.

"I had no hope of meeting you again, Mieloji," He whispers, leaning against your neck and looking at you with his burning eyes.

"S-Sorry... But I don't understand what you're talking about..." You mutter softly, feeling your knees slowly give way, "Maybe you're confusing me with someone..."

"Oh, no, dear. I recognize you from a thousand," He whispers with a predatory smile, baring a pair of sharp fangs, "I recognize you from a thousand, Y/N."

"How do you know my name?" Your voice is shaking. It seems like it was too much for you. You were scared.

"Shh, Mieloji. I didn't mean to scare you," His gaze softens for a moment as he runs his thumb over your trembling lip, "I'm Hannibal."

He probably expected this name to give you some hint of what's going on, but you just nervously pursed your lips. What a strange man he is... Although it was worth this name to fly off his plump lips, as your heart skipped a light beat. But this is not enough to believe his words. You're just scared...

"It seems you've really forgotten me, Mieloji," Hannibal murmured with a slight bitterness, looking into your beautiful eyes. Oh, he was drowning in their alluring depths every time, "I shouldn't have let you go then... But I cherished you too much to deprive you of the joys of mortal life."

The man wrapped his free arm around your waist, pulling you into his cold embrace. Your smaller body looked so perfect in his hands... The pleasant aroma of his body hits you in the nose, mixed with a slight taste of copper and sandalwood. At this moment you feel so calm, here in his arms. It's as if the whole world around you has ceased to exist, just you and him.

His cold hand slowly looks at your tense back, lightly sliding his nails on the fabric of your clothes. Hannibal remembered it all too well: every curve of your body, the scent of your hair and your gentle voice. It was definitely you, his beloved, who returned to him after centuries. He knew it right away, as soon as he noticed you at the gate through the window of the second floor.

"Mieloji, I've missed you so much... I thought I wouldn't see you again," he muttered, a hint of relief in his voice.

Oh, how you wanted to believe him. It all seemed like a pleasant dream. You just moved out of your old town and entered a mansion you didn't know, but this was the first time you really felt at home. You were in the right place.

You almost reflexively squeeze the fabric of his vest between your fingers, and the man lets out a light laugh. He pulls away, still holding you by the waist and burying his free hand in your hair. Hannibal tilts your head slightly to the side.

"Let me show you my love again," he whispers, and you feel a painful burning sensation in your neck.

His sharp fangs cut into your flesh, and his pink lips begin to slowly suck your skin. It was painful. But gradually this feeling was replaced by something like... pleasure?

"Let me help you remember everything, Mieloji."