#i stood in line for AGES in the fucking RAIN

[nopointic]

everyone who bought agust d merch from the d-day tour and sellin it on ebay... your mom's a hoe. your dad's a thot. and you a bitch. but that's just MY opinion.

[cillianhead]

Your Thomas Shelby's younger inexperienced wife and you are both experimenting in the bedroom and he lets you choke him 🥵

Oh absolutely...!

God I can't wait to write this. Thank you for your request! I hope you like it :-)

Show Me How Much You Need Me || Thomas Shelby x Reader

Part One!

Warnings: SMUT, unprotected P in V, choking, light spanking i guess??, face slapping, age gap, degrading language, swearing / vulgar language, kinda mild breeding kink, daddy kink, squirting, mild overstimulation sort of, oral sex (f receiving), arranged marriage, very very very very vague implications of dubcon sort of but like not really but just be warned! adult content. (sorry if I missed any warnings)

18+ Minors DNI

To your parents, being unmarried at the age of twenty was absolutely unacceptable. So on your birthday, they had men lining up around the block, both old and young alike, hoping to be your husband. Now there were some good candidates, not that you had a choice in who you were going to marry. Your parents were control freaks, deciding they were going to decide for you. But as soon as Thomas Shelby walked into the room, cigarette hanging loosely out of his lips, a trail of smoke following him and a huge wad of cash in hand and then tossing it down in front of my parents, acting like he owned the place... You knew no one else stood a chance.

Now you'd been married for a month, Tommy was an insatiable man. He got what he wanted when he wanted. You remember the look in his eyes on your wedding night when you told him you were a virgin, he nearly came in his trousers at the thought of your tight pussy. You've had sex pretty much twice a day or more ever since, he couldn't keep his hands off of you. Tommy showed you how to fuck, how to suck his cock, showed you how to please a man. Of course, the only man you would ever be allowed to please would be Tommy himself. You were hesitant to marry him, you were also slightly afraid of him but as you got to know each other, got to spend more time together as husband and wife, you appreciated his company, and you could even see yourself beginning to love him. But lately the sex between you had started to die down, Tommy being busy dealing with the peaky blinders and all their drama, you'd only have sex every other day or so. Which for you guys, wasn't a lot. But you knew he was tired, it wasn't cause he wasn't attracted to you anymore.

It was pouring rain outside as you both quietly sat in bed, Tommy read his novel quietly, glasses sitting on the edge of his nose while you brushed through your hair, topless and only in some thin white panties for him. There was a visible wet patch from your arousal, you were always wet when you were near Tommy, he just had that affect over you. He thought it was cute how easily excitable you are. You were incredibly needy, now that you'd had a taste of what it was like to have sex, you were constantly asking for it, constantly trying to get his attention. Poor little inexperienced thing you were.

"Tommy," You whined, placing your hairbrush on the bedside table and then leaning over, pressing your face into his neck. "Pay attention to me..."

Tommy let out an amused huff, turning another page of his book, not bothering to even spare one glance at you. "What do y'need, love?" He asked gruffly, reaching his spare arm and wrapping it around you, pulling you into him. He knew exactly what you needed, he just wanted to hear you say it. The way you got embarrassed and shy was incredibly sexy to him.

"Need you..." You whispered, placing kisses along the column of his throat.

"Gotta be more specific than that," He closed his book, finally setting it aside along with his glasses. "What do you need from me?"

"I need... you..." You were flustered, burying your face in his bare chest but he grabbed you by the nape of the neck like you were a kitten and pulled your head up, forcing you to look at him. "I need you to fuck me... Tommy..."

"Is that so?" He chuckled, running a thumb over your bottom lip which you innocently popped into your mouth, swirling your tongue around the digit. You weren't doing intentionally to turn him on, you just liked the way it felt to suck on something, especially if that something was Tommy's thumb. But the sight was suggestive, Tommy wished it was his cock in your mouth instead. "Fuckin' hell, alright, sit in me lap, I'll give you what ye need."

You continued sucking on his thumb, keeping eye contact with him as he pulled down his sleep shorts and pulled down your underwear. "Go on then, take what ya came here for." Tommy pulled his wet thumb away, shoving it between your folds and rubbing your clit, making you weak in the knees. He had so much power over you. So you grabbed onto his shoulders before holding the head of his dick before lining up with the leaky tip and sinking down on him. You watched his eyes roll into the back of his head as you squeezed around him. "Easy, girl." He warned, his cock twitching inside you, he could cum from just how tight you were. God he fucking loved that his cock was the only one you'd ever taken, loved the way you stretched around him.

"Fuck... so deep..." You sat on him for just a moment, adjusting to the feeling. Even though you'd taken him plenty of times, your cunt just hadn't gotten use to the sheer size and girth of him. It made you feel like you were being torn open in the most beautiful way possible. "T-Tommy..."

"Ride me, slut, go on... show me how much you need me." He slapped your ass harshly before grabbing a handful of it and encouraging your hips to start grinding against him. "Such a pretty girl."

You moved your hips back and forth, a bit shy at first as you did so but as more and more pleasure began to build in your stomach, your dignity went out the window as you began desperately bouncing on his cock. Tommy had never seen you so hungry for it before, he just leaned back against the bed, his hands gripping your waist as you took what you wanted.

Your tits bounced right in front of his face and Tommy thought to himself this was the greatest view in the world. His pretty little wife fucking herself and her perfect tits moving in sync with her movements. He let out gravelly groans as you sunk back down on him, sweaty, you froze for a moment to catch your breath. This was still all so new to you, still such an innocent little thing. You still need Tommy's help to get off sometimes, not quite strong enough yet to ride him all on your own.

"Tommy..." You whispered with a small whine. "Need your help..." Your flushed cheeks and blown out pupils were a sign of how lost in the moment you were. He just smiled as he pushed you down onto your back and threw your legs over his shoulders. His cock pressing even deeper into your pussy, somehow. You could feel him in your stomach.

"This what you want, little girl?" He hummed as he started to fuck in and out of you, impaling you on his dick. "Want me to fuck you like the slut you are?"

You moaned, nodding dumbly as your mind went blank. "Yes! Tommy! Fuck me!" You were incredibly loud and you were lucky no one else was in the house because otherwise they'd hear how loud you were being, when usually you were quite reserved around other people. "Pl-Please put a baby in me Tommy... let me make you a daddy..."

"Fuck..." Tommy could cum at your words, "Yeah?" He panted continuing to piston in and out of you, one of his hands grabbed roughly at your tits, playing with your hard nipple. "Gonna breed you like the bitch that you are." You moaned at his words, arching your back further into him as he gave you another harsh spank to your asscheeks.

"Tommy... gonna cum... please... don't stop!" You sounded like a pornstar, Tommy leaned down and kissed you.

"My pretty little wife," His voice was vibrating through you, the gravel of it making you even wetter. The sound of his cock slipping in and out of your sopping little cunt echoed throughout the room as he leaned down even further and connected his lips to yours once again. He felt your fingers curl around his neck, both hands wrapped around his throat, Tommy was never one to get flustered but the idea of you choking him made his hips stutter as you squeezed around him a bit. "Fuck..." He moaned lowly as you held onto his neck. You looked so sweet in that moment. "Such a stupid little girl, when you're full of cock, don't even know what ye doin, eh?" He fucked into you more, feeling you squeeze around him. Your hands held onto his throat as if you were holding him on a leash.

You were a writhing mess, shaking underneath him, only choking him further. You looked at how pretty he looked with your hands wrapped around his throat and how flushed his face was, hair sticking to his sweaty forehead as his hips bruised your pelvis. "Daddy...!" You moaned out, experimentally, waiting to see his reaction. You had always fantasized about calling him it but you were always too nervous to do so. But right now you were drunk on the pleasure, too fucked out to care.

"Fuck... say that again... gonna fuckin' fill you up, love." Tommy was just as desperate as you now, chasing his own high as you started to convulse around him, your orgasm unraveling, he lightly slapped you across the face, hard enough to break you out of your daze but not enough to actually do any damage. "Fuckin' do what I say!" You clenched tighter around him, cumming even harder at the sound of him yelling at you. Him being angry at you shouldn't be so hot but it was.

"Sorry... s-sorry... daddy!" You sobbed out as you gushed around his cock that began leaking cum. "Please... cum in me, please daddy..."

"That's right, baby..." He was rutting into you now, hips moving into you hard yet slow. "I'm yer daddy." He let out a deep mewl as he came inside you, making you moan even louder, your voice hoarse and your throat sore as you let go of his throat, collapsing your arms back. Tommy fucked his cum deep into you despite the sensitivity of his cock. Slowly pulling out of you, he pushed your legs against your chest to look down at the slick between your legs. A little bit of cum dripped out of your stretched out hole, earning you two fingers pushing it back into you, you just whimpered, a bit overstimulated.

"Think I gotta get a taste of your pussy now, love," He hummed getting down on his tummy, face aligned perfectly as he moved his fingers in a 'come hither' movement. You gasped, he was hitting your g-spot each time.

"Fuck, tommy!"

"Eh, that's not me name right now." He looked at you warningly before unhinging his jaw and attaching his hot mouth to your sensitive clit again.

"Oh daddy! 'S too much, too much... please..." You couldn't tell if you wanted him to stop or to keep going, it was all too much for your brain to comprehend. You were seeing hot flashes of white, your body going completely limp as another orgasm washed over you, rendering you helpless to the pleasure that was consuming you from the inside out. "D-Daddy..." You dumbly moaned.

"Tastes so fuckin good, keep cummin' on my face." His nose brushed your clit as he licked up your juices and you came again and again and again. Extremely overstimulated. "Just gimme one more, baby then I'll leave you alone." You were unresponsive, nodding your head weakly, wanting to be good for him. "Such a good girl for daddy, aren't ya?" He made out with your gushing sex, adding a third finger.

And suddenly you felt it burst out of you, drenching his hair, face, and the sheets underneath you. Squirting all over his face and just as you thought it was over, it just kept on coming. Your mouth agape in a silent scream of pleasure, he drank it all up, continuing to slurp at your pussy until it finally ended. He pulled away, leaning back on his ankles, Tommy had a very pleased look on his face, your squirt dripping down his chin and his chest sticky with your cum and the sheets soaking wet. "That was the best bloody thing to ever happen to me." He huffed, licking his wet fingers. You laid there, tears streaming down your face and twitching gently, still coming down. He laid down beside you. "You did so good f'me, so good, you're alright, I'm here."

He held you as you continued to shake, waiting for you to calm down a bit. "I've never done that before..." You whimpered, pussy throbbing, full of cum, and sopping wet.

He gave you a loud genuine laugh, still sticky with your juices as he kissed you. "I'm gonna make you squirt over and over and over again every time we fuck now, just so you know."

You giggled at his words, he was gonna be the death of you.

-

I know there wasn't a whole lot of 'experimenting' or choking so i'm sorry! But I hope you enjoyed anyway!!

[thetriumphantpanda]

nobody sees, nobody knows

Alright, here we are, me adding my two cents into the dbf!Joel trope which we all love so much. I've read so many incredible fics like this so hopefully mine can stand up with them all. This will be a series, so strap in for more of our favourite neighbourhood DILF.

Pairing | dbf!Joel x female reader

Summary | Back to Texas with a degree under your belt and a school girl fantasy to fuck your dad's best friend. What could go wrong?

Warnings | I mean, dbf!Joel comes with his own warning right? Other than that, swearing, alcohol consumption, age gap (Reader is 25, Joel is 36), dirty talk, and fingering.

Word Count | 3.3K

PART 2 | MAIN MASTERLIST

There was something about summer in Texas that just hit differently. The way the heat crawled on your skin from the moment you woke up to the moment you tried to sleep at night. The way your father used it as an excuse to cook primarily on the grill, regardless of the food, and the way your mother always made sure the fridge was stocked with cold drinks. The way traffic seemed to cease to exist during the high points of the day, meaning you went to the store every day at midday to buy ice cream. The haze you got from sipping cold beer by your parents’ pool which made you want to do reckless things like you’d done in New York before you realized that the beady eyes of your parents would be all over you if you tried. Reckless things like tell Joel Miller you’d wanted to fuck him for years. 

Every time you’d come home from school, and he’d be there you could have sworn he’d just gotten more and more attractive. The last time you were home, for Christmas and New Year’s, you could have sworn he’d started at the gym, his biceps bulging in the arms of his fitted t-shirt, when your dad commented on it, he's chalked it down to particularly heavy lifting on the job he was working then. He’d had his hair cut in a way that made his face even more handsome and you’re pretty sure the last few times you’d been home he’d noticed how you’d flourished too. 

There were moments where you’d catch his eyes as they drew themselves up your legs, or the time you decided to test your theory and wear a low-cut top and your best bra to a dinner party. His eyes had trained on your chest for most of the night, there was a moment where you’d stood up and leaned over the table to pick up the salt instead of asking him to pass it. He’d choked on his drink and your dad had slapped his back to try and help him. At least you knew he was thinking like you. 

Neither of you had tried crossing the line though. Past the point of no return. You wanted him to make the first move, save yourself the embarrassment of rejection if it came, but it felt like waiting for Joel Miller to kiss you was like waiting for rain in the drought Texas was currently experiencing. Useless and disappointing. You wished sometimes that you could burrow into his brain and figure out what it was that he was really thinking about you. You suspected there would be some code of honour he was sticking to because you were his best friend’s daughter – sure it might complicate things, but you weren’t going to be back in Texas forever – what was the worst that could happen during the secret, torrid affair you’d been cooking up in your head since you arrived back from college a week ago? 

 “Did you hear me when I spoke to you?” Your mother’s voice pulled you from the daydream you were having whilst polishing the cutlery. 

“Sorry mom, I was miles away.” 

“I know!” She exclaims, “I don’t know what’s gotten into you since you came back, you’ve been away with the fairies,” She sighs, “I said, once you’ve set the cutlery out back can you help your dad with filling the fridge with the beer, please?” 

You hum in agreement which is enough to send her back to the endless chopping she seems to be doing at the kitchen counter. It was just a cookout with the Millers and few other family friends to celebrate your return, but you think your mother thinks she’s catering for a garden party at the White House with the number of sides she’s preparing. 

You make quick work of the rest of the cutlery, wanting to avoid any more questions about why you seem miles away all the time – you can’t exactly tell your mother it’s because you’re thinking about how Joel might eat your pussy.

“Need any help, old man?” You greet your dad in the garage, he’s on his knee’s pulling out bottles of Budweiser to stack in the fridge. 

“Here, grab these and start putting them in,” He’s smiling, he’s always been an overly happy and laid-back man, “I hope we’ve got enough in.” 

“How many people are you expecting?” You chuckle, taking a bottle from him to add to the growing number already stacked on the shelves. 

“Probably ten or so,” Hu shrugs, “But one of those people is Tommy Miller and he’s not changed a bit since you’ve been away.” 

“Between your drinks and mom’s sides we could host the entire neighborhood.” You joke. 

You continue to fill the fridge up with drinks until there’s no room left. Your dad stores the leftover crates next to it for refilling throughout the evening, “Now, go and make yourself look nice, everyone’ll be here soon.” 

*

You’d be lying if you said that you hadn’t picked your shortest and lowest cut dress for the evening. It was a pale blue colour, with pink flowers dotted about the material. It fell to your mid-thigh and you had to keep reminded yourself to kneel down instead of bending over, in case people who you didn’t want to look caught an eyeful of the scant lace covering your ass. 

There are a few people milling around already, cold beers in hand, mainly some of your dad’s older friends, who have all congratulated you on graduating and then moved on to talk about mundane neighborhood gossip. 

“Now, where is that smartass?” You hear from the sliding doors; it’s Tommy and he’s bounding over to you to give you a hug. 

He scoops you up into a bone breaking hug, “Congratulation’s girl, your dad said you graduated top of the class!” 

He’s set you down and you can see Joel standing awkwardly next to him, “He’s exaggerating, I wasn’t top, although pretty close to it,” You turn to Joel, “Hey there.” He bends down to give you a one-armed hug and a peck on the cheek. 

“Good to see you back, sweetheart.” 

“Good to see you too, Joel,” You chirp in response, “Where’s Sarah?” 

“She’s at camp for the first part of the summer,” He explains, “Back in a couple’a weeks, she’ll be thrilled to see you again.” 

“Boys!” Your dad’s booming voice interrupts your conversation, “Good to see you both!” He turns to you, “Why don’t you go and get these two some beers, I need to speak to them about fixin’ up the attic.” 

You turn quietly and head for the garage. Of course, you’d become waitress at your own welcome home party. It takes no time at all for you to come back with three beers, two for the Miller brothers and one for yourself. You hand them off wordlessly, but you don’t miss how Joel grips the bottle just above your fingers, brushing against them. Of all the places for him to grab the bottle, that couldn’t be a coincidence, could it? 

The rest of the evening goes by as expected. You spend most of it running around helping your mom set the food out, fetching more beers for everyone and trying to field questions from everyone about what you’re going to do in Texas with an MA in Archival Studies. You bite your tongue every time, and reply with something like, “I think I’ll probably work in an archive.” 

The night is winding down, your mom already in bed having finished her wine too quickly, your dad sat outside in the quickly fading sunlight with Joel and Tommy and a few other stragglers. It fell to you to make aa start on the dishes, which is what you were currently doing. Rinsing them off over the sink before stacking them in the dishwasher, pausing long enough each time to take a sip of lukewarm beer. 

“They got you tidyin’ up your own party?” You hear from behind you. It’s Joel. 

“I’m the only one sober enough not to break anything.” You shrug without turning around to face him. 

“Seems a little unfair if you ask me, sweetheart.” 

“Well, why don’t you make yourself useful and help?” You counter, “Then I can be sat outside drinkin’ beer with you all.” 

You hear his boots on the floor and then he’s next to you, reaching around to grab the pile of cutlery on the side, he opens the dishwasher further to put the cutlery in their designated tray and then stop, “Has no-one ever taught you how to stack a dishwasher?” 

You pause in your rinsing to look up at him for the first time, “What do you mean?” 

“This is awful sweetheart,” He chuckles, “You’ve got the bowls and plates in the wrong place – you’ll be doing three washes if you carry on like this.” 

“Well, go on then, maestro, show me how to stack it.” 

He’s unloading everything you’ve put in so far, apart from what you suspect he thinks was his expertly placed cutlery, and you’re watching as he’s stacking in completely differently to you. Annoyingly he’s not wrong, the way he’s doing it means you’ll likely fit everything in at once, “Can’t believe you’ve lived on your own for five years and didn’t learn how to stack a dishwasher.” 

“Joel, I was in a dingy studio apartment in the ass end of New York, you think I had a dishwasher?” 

“Well, consider yourself taught now, I don’t ever wanna see a dishwasher looking anything less than perfect, you hear me?” 

“Loud and clear, Mr Miller.” You watch as his eyebrows raise at your new greeting, oh. He liked that. 

He picks up your almost empty beer bottle and hands it to you, “Go on, down the rest,” He’s grinning, “Then go and sit down and I’ll get you a fresh one.” 

You decide to push it a little further, “Yes, sir.” You watch as he swallows deeply at your words before you’re brushing past him, far too close than necessary to go and sit down. 

It’s another hour of sitting around in the garden before everyone else is gone – Tommy is finishing off his beer and telling Joel he’ll be heading to his to crash. 

“I’m going to call it a night too,” Your dad says, “Stay and finish your drink though Joel, there’s no rush, I’m sure this one can keep you company with her stories from New York.” 

And then you’re alone with him, finally. He’s taking a long drink from his beer bottle, which you mirror, realizing suddenly that you didn’t eat much, and you’ve drunk far more than you probably should. You’re not drunk, but there’s a pleasant buzz through your body that’s making your eyelids a little heavy. 

When the light goes off in your parents’ room, you figure it’s safe, “I’ve seen you staring at me, you know.” 

He doesn’t miss a beat, “You make it hard not to, sweetheart.” 

“Do you want me, Joel?” You don’t know where you’ve come from all of a sudden, but this confident girl isn’t someone you recognize. 

“It ain’t a question of wantin’ you sweetheart, it’s a question of doin’ the right thing.” You watch as he rubs his hand over his forehead in frustration. 

“But you do,” You push him, “Want me?” 

“Course I do,” He’s swallowing thickly again, just like he did in the kitchen, “But I can’t have you.” 

“Says who?” You pry. 

“Says the fact that I’m one’a your dad’s best friends, not to mention far too old for you.” He’s looking at you and taking another big drink from his bottle, like if he finishes, he can leave you alone. 

“No-one has to know,” You shrug, “Could be our little secret?” 

“You been readin’ too many of them romance novels,” He snorts, “It don’t work like that, if they find out they’ll fucking kill me.” He’s tilting his head to the window of your parents’ room.

You stand from your seat opposite him, walking around the table to stop just in front of Joel, “Come on Joel, have a little fun for once.” 

There’s a moment where you can see the cogs whirring in his brain, trying to weigh up being shot for touching his best friend’s little girl and finally satisfying the craving he’d wanted for a while now. Then, he’s putting his bottle down on the floor next to the chair he’s sat in. You watch closely as he shifts his position to sit more towards the edge of the chair, before one of his hands reaches out to grip the back of your thigh, just above the crease of your knee.

“You’ll be the death of me,” He mumbles before he looks up at you, “C’mere.” 

He’s pulling gently on your leg as he shifts back in the seat, guiding you so your hips are straddling his. You try not to press yourself too fully into him just yet, letting your clothed heat rest above his lap. One of his arms comes to wrap around the back of your waist, the other tangling in your hair at the back of your head whilst he looks at you with eyes that say he wants to devour you. 

“You gonna kiss me, Mr Miller?” You ask, innocently. 

“Oh darlin’, I’m gonna do so much more than that.” 

His head is tilting to the side and looking up at you from your higher ground, perched on his lap. Then his lips are on yours and God all those years of longing were worth it. They’re pressed tentatively against your own, but you can feel they’re slightly chapped. His hand resting in your hair grips a little tighter and he’s moving your head slightly so that when he opens his mouth against yours it’s the easiest thing for you to open yours right back and let his tongue into your mouth. 

You let out a gasp, swallowed into his own mouth when his hands drop back to your thighs before they’re trailing up the small skirt of your dress to cup the cheeks of your ass, “You wear this for me?” He pulls away, speaking before he’s trailing his lips along your jawline, “Thought you’d get me worked up in this tiny little thing, naughty girl?” 

“It worked, didn’t it?” 

He huffs a breath out of his nose as if to say, of course it did. He’s trailing his hot mouth down your neck now, dragging his teeth along your skin before licking with his tongue to soothe any red marks he might leave. Your head is thrown back as his hands drag you down so you’re sitting flush against him. You can’t help but notice the bulge in his jeans when your clothed pussy makes contact with him. 

You’re whining as his hands are on your hips under your dress, the hot skin of his hands setting fire to you, “What do you want, pretty girl?” He asks, his tongue trailing down to the valley between your tits. 

“Fingers,” You rasp, “Make me come with your fingers Joel.” 

He lets out a low chuckle against your skin, “Needy little thing, already beggin’ me to finger fuck her.” 

But he’s already obliging your request, one of his hands is moving down from your hip to the front of your panties, running his thumb over the material from top to bottom, “God, I can feel how wet you are already,” You look down and he’s grinning, “I’m gonna take these off, sweetheart, but you gotta promise to keep quiet okay?” 

You nod in agreement before you’re lifting your hips up, just enough for Joel to hook his fingers in the waistband of your underwear and pull them down enough so his hands can touch you. He mimics the same movement he’d done over the material, this time his fingers touching the bare skin of you seam and he’s groaning when he feels the slick gathered near your tight hole. 

“God, you really are wet, aren’t ya?” He chuckles, a flush creeping over your cheeks, “Ain’t nothing to be embarrassed about sweetheart,” He reassures, “Means I’m doin’ somethin’ right.” 

You feel one of his thick fingers slip inside you, just a little, before he’s dragging the slick he’s gathered up to run light touches over your clit. You bite down on your lip to keep you from crying out into the dark, hips bucking into his hand to try and get more friction from his fingers. He takes the hint and is pressing his finger more firmly into your bundle of nerves and it’s becoming increasingly more difficult to keep quiet. 

When Joel’s hand drops from your clit you almost cry from frustration, put then he’s sinking two of his fingers straight into your soaking pussy and the relief is palpable. He’s moving them in and out of you, curling them in just the right way that has your hips moving in time with him, literally fucking yourself on his fingers. You let your head fall into the crook of his neck, placing kisses to his skin as you ride his fingers. 

“This what you wanted, pretty girl?” He asks, his free hand coming to cup the back of your head against his neck, at least this way you could make some noise – testing out your theory you let out a throaty moan, listening carefully as his skin muffles most of the sound. 

“I need… god Joel, my clit, please.” 

With his fingers still buried inside you, working you to the edge, his thumb moves to your clit, resuming the circles his finger had been drawing over it before, “I can feel your pussy gettin’ tight around my fingers,” He’s turned his head so it’s buried in the hair at the side of your head, “You gonna come for me, sweetheart?” 

You push back from him a little, looking down between your bodies where you can see his hand working you and that’s really all it takes. Your legs are shaking and you’re biting down on your lip hard enough that you can taste blood as pleasure bursts through you – not even you had made yourself come like this. Ever. Joel’s fingers have stilled inside you, but he’s still tracing your clit with gentle movements of his thumb, reveling in the way you jerk through the aftershocks of your orgasm. 

“Did so well for me, pretty girl.” He coos at you once he’s pulled his hand from your pussy. 

You’ve collapsed onto his chest to catch your breath, but you’re already subconsciously grinding your hips into his, God you want more. You’re about to reach for his belt when you can feel something vibrating in the pocket of his jeans. 

He’s mumbling an apology, lifting you just enough to fish his phone from his pocket. He answers without looking at who is calling. You can hear Tommy’s voice through the phone from your place, draped over Joel’s lap. 

“You just turn it to the side, jackass,” Joel is mumbling in answer to Tommy’s question on how to work his shower, “You’ve used it a million times,” Tommy say’s something you can quite make out, “No, not that one, the one underneath it,” Joel is sighing, “You were not this drunk when you left, if I find you’ve finished the good whiskey I’m gonna kill you,” Another sigh to a question you couldn’t quite hear, “Fine, I’ll be there in a minute.” 

Disappointment is pooling in your stomach. You don’t want him to go, not when there’s so much unfinished business here, “I gotta go, sweetheart.” He’s mumbling, pressing a chaste kiss to your lips. 

“But what about this?” You ask, reaching between you to cup his cock through his jeans, “Let me help you.” 

His hand is gripping your wrist, “I would love nothin’ more, but I gotta go before Tommy floods my house,” Another kiss to your lips, “Next time.” 

“You want to do this again?” You ask, almost surprised. 

He takes the hand that had been buried in your pussy not minutes before, lifting the fingers he’d fucked you with to his mouth before sucking them right in front of your face, “Now I’ve gotta taste for you, sweetheart?” He raises an eyebrow, “Of course I wanna do this again.” 

[random-imagines-blog]

One Thousand Cheers {Dean Winchester x Female!Reader}

Wordcount: 2669 Requested by: @ab1nsur Summary: While hunting demons on the beach, you get caught up in a rather revealing contest. Warnings: Swearing, Spring Break chaos, A touch of non-consensual touching, demon mischief.

Demons on a beach during Spring Break. This felt like some sort of teen romance novel, and you could see the cover now - some red painted muscular guy holding some lusty teenager, the sunset behind them. Course, demons never actually looked like that. The ones you were looking for blended in well enough, looking like bikini-clad twenty-year olds who were looking for a hookup, rather than for souls. “Ever feel like you’re too old for this crap?” You asked Dean, standing up on a bench to try to look over the crowds for your demons, or for anyone who looked like they were being lured away. “Spring Break - what I wouldn’t give for a week off to feel like a stupid kid again.” 

“This is your idea of a fun Spring Break?” Dean said, his eyes too busy scoping out the beach, and making sure that his Revolver was tucked away inside of his jacket. He’s the one that stood out for wearing one, in this almost 90-degree weather. The sun going down didn’t cool anything any. “My break was another hunt, and I’d be lucky if it wasn’t somewhere that was raining all the time.” 

“I think that’s why you are the way you are. You didn’t get to party enough,” You chuckled. “Didn’t get to raise a little hell like these idiots.” 

“Yeah, that’s my problem alright. Didn’t party enough,” Dean grunted. Then his eyes seemed to catch on something, much like how a cat will suddenly spot a squirrel and look ready to pounce. “To the left.” 

“I see one to the right,” You whispered back. “Split up?” 

“Going to have to,” Dean said. “We’ll meet back up over there.” 

He motioned his head to one of the larger stages that seemed like it was preparing for a Wet T-Shirt Contest. You rolled your eyes at him. Of course, that’s where he would want to end up. “Alright, but only because it’s a good central location. Not because I wanna watch you get an eyeful.” 

Before he could come up with a witty retort, you were off the bench and walking among the people. In your jeans and white t-shirt, you didn’t exactly fit in with them either, but at least you weren’t wearing a heavy jacket. Your own weapon, your knife, was tucked into a holster attached to your leg, and your fingers brushed against the hilt with every step that you took towards the woman who had flashed her black eyes at you. It was tough to maneuver through the crowd, tall men often standing in the way of your line of your vision, a couple of them playfully trying to touch you. You slapped their hands away and carried on, too focused on the mission to give them a piece of your mind. Otherwise, you would have picked them apart and left them absolutely decimated with only your words. 

There she was. A fucking stunner. The vessel must have been a supermodel or something because this demon was getting a lot of attention, exactly like it wanted. It had it’s pick of tall, muscular, college-age men who didn’t actually think much about their future and would make a deal for something as stupid as money. Bargain away their soul for a couple of fun weekends in Cancun or something similar. 

Going up and incapacitating it wasn’t an option, not with so many witnesses. There was no way you were going to be able to form a salt circle around it with all of these people around, it would get trodden on, if it didn’t immediately mix with the sand. But you couldn’t let it just take these men away either. If you could save their souls, best bet you were going to try.  

“Hey, you,” You called out, jogging a little closer, running the back of your hand against your forehead where sweat was starting to gather and drip into your eyes. All the attention turned to you in that moment, and the demon knew that it had the advantage here. Its smirk made you want to rage. You had to use some quick thinking to get these men away. 

“Can I help you?” It said, in a sickly-sweet voice. The fucking confidence in these demons - must be a younger one.  

“You’re the bitch who gave my brother herpes, aren’t you?” You said, your mind flashing to Gabriel of all people, and the trick that he had pulled on Sam, making him pretend he was in a commercial for Herpexia. “Yeah, I remember you. Now I know my brother is too chickenshit to say anything, but I will.” You put your hands around your mouth to mime a loudspeaker of some kind, getting more people to look. “THIS CHICK HAS HERPES. DON’T SHARE A DRINK WITH HER OR SLEEP WITH HER. SHE WON’T EVEN CALL YOU AFTER ANYWAY!” 

The demon growled, a touch of its true nature showing, the eyes darkening as the guys around her started to subtly walk away, deciding that it just was not worth it. So at least one part of your idea was coming to fruition.  

“You play dirty,” she said, her head tilting menacingly towards you. The eyes were so focused on yours. You stepped in a little closer, your hand closing around the hilt of your weapon as a little room was made by the absence of her suitors. 

“Yeah, I was inspired by a tricky angel, what can I say?” You said, your own gaze glaring. “What happened to just hanging around crossroads, huh? Surely that has more dignity than picking up these scraps.” 

“Dignity? Now - you’re one to talk,” The demon said, the smirk growing on her painted red lips, which perfectly matched the bikini that she was wearing. Her hands were on her hips. She knew there were still too many people for me to do anything drastic, like go charging. “Always hanging around the Winchesters. Clinging onto Dean.” 

“I don’t cling,” You scoffed. “I said, actually. It’s something that friends do. Which you wouldn’t know, because demons don’t really have friends, do they? You’re not the most likeable sort.” 

“Friends?” The demon said, chuckling, which got on your nerves. “Come on, y/n. Even from down below we can see how bad you have it for Dream-Boy Dean. Which is why you cling.” 

“I think this part, right here, this is why you guys have a bad rep. The deals, the hellhounds, the annoying possessions, they’re all bad, but this right here? This is why you’re never going to have friends,” You glared, feeling yourself getting riled up. Which of course is what they wanted. 

“We take bets down there, on how hurt you’re going to be when he turns you down,” The demon-woman giggled. “I bet a hundred souls that you’re going to call on one of us. Make a little deal so that he’ll love you the same way that you love him.” 

"This isn’t going to stop me from killing you, you know. Actually, it’s making me want to do it more. And then you can go back down to hell and pass on the message that all of you are going to lose your money, nobody wins. You’re all just - so damn wrong.” 

Your stomach was churning inside of you. The anger was making you start to become careless, but it wasn’t just the words that she was saying which were pissing you off. It was the fact that she had a goddamn point. OF COURSE you clung onto Dean Winchester. Has anyone seen him? He’s one of the most handsome men in the world, women and some men everywhere fell for him. And you had the pleasure of getting to know him, which made your admiration worse. He was a badass, he was confident, he was funny, he had this bad boy look down pat. But of one thing you were absolutely sure. You would never, ever be stupid enough to make a deal with a demon. Not for love, not for power, not for anything. If you ended up ever confessing your feelings to Dean, and he didn’t feel the same - that was that. You already prepared yourself for it. 

“So do it,” The demon-woman said. “Kill me. But you know I’ll be back. That’s the thing that you really should hate about us demons. We always come back.” 

“Yeah, it’s really annoying,” You had to admit. Your hand fastened around the hilt of your knife. “And it makes prison sound pretty damn worth it.” 

She backed up, turned around and started to run, weaving through bodies. It appeared to be more of a dance than anything else, with her bare feet against the sand. You found it a little harder, running in your sneakers. The constant dipping into other people’s deeper footprints made your thighs burn as you kept moving. You wanted to have your knife in your hands but considering how many people were around, how there could be accidents, it wasn’t the smart thing to do. So, you were stuck just following, hoping to tackle. No, praying to all the angels that you knew that she would get hit with one of those giant beachballs that people were throwing around, so you could drag her out of there easier.  

Dodge and weave. The people were growing closer and closer together. You were having to use your elbows. With the congestion, you felt like you were a piece of floss, struggling to get between teeth. You kept getting sprayed with something, water probably. No, ugh, it smelt like beer. Someone was actually shaking up their beer and then pouring out the foam over people. 

You wrinkled your nose, wiping it away from your eyes before it could get into them, and then looked around again. You had totally lost her. There were other girls around in red bikinis but none of them had her face. You pushed more and more - until you found yourself being against a stage. Two arms came down and grabbed onto yours, pulling you up, confusing you further. 

“And we have our last volunteer for the wet t-shirt contest!” An emcee said, different colored spotlights dancing around your body. “What’s your name, jeans?” 

There were cheers coming from the crowd that you had just elbowed your way through. Your mouth went dry as you realized that everyone was now looking at you. You turned your eyes to the DJ booth where a man that looked like he was out of an LMFAO music video was standing, mic pointed out towards you.  

“Y/N,” you said, loudly.  

“Y/N! Come and stand with the other contestants, you all know how this goes don’t you?” 

While he explained the rules of this stupid contest that you now couldn’t get out of, since everyone was looking over at you, you looked through the crowd. Your eyes first landed on the demon, who was smirking at you from amongst the crowd. Her ruby red lipstick made her look all the smugger and you shook your head at her, mentally threatening to make her exorcism as painful as possible. The next pair of eyes that you caught were green, and boy, were they wide.  

Dean Winchester could be a bit of a gambling man, often with his life, but he would have never bet that he would see you be a part of a wet t-shirt contest. 

One by one, the girls in your lineup had buckets of water poured over them. Your heart was pounding when your turn was coming up. You weren’t dressed like these other girls. You didn’t have on a skimpy bikini top. Hell, it looked like the girl two down from you wasn’t wearing a bra at all. She looked like Jennifer Aniston in Friends. You looked down to make sure that you were wearing one, and yes, thank Chuck you were, and it wasn’t one of your bad laundry-day bras either. 

A gasp came out of you as a bucket full of COLD water was poured over your head. It was freezing absolutely freezing, and made you feel chilled down to the bone. But it had the effect that they wanted. Your white t-shirt was now drenched, and clinging onto your body, the way that the demon claimed you clung onto Dean. The cold had the effect on your body of making your nipples harden and start to point out of the thin fabric of your bra. The crowd in front of you went wild, a hundred, a thousand cheers coming out from them as they clapped for your body.  

You warmed up pretty quick from how flustered you were feeling. Your eyes were still stuck on Dean’s as his trailed down your body, taking in the sight of you. It wasn’t the most exposed that you had been, since he had given you a hand with stitches on your abdomen before, but it was all about context. This wasn’t seeing you because he was helping. This was him seeing you because you somehow got put into a contest meant to give straight men and lesbians material for their spankbank. 

And even though you hadn’t wanted to enter - you got in second.  

And a bonus of a 100-dollar cash prize. 

That part wasn’t so bad. 

You took it without any pomp, just accepted the bill out of the emcee’s hand and hopped off the back of the stage with the intention of circling back around and trying to avoid the mass of people. Music was playing louder now that the contest was over. Free drink tickets were being thrown out from the stage. People were being pulled up to dance. It was basically a stampede over there, and you had to finally resign yourself to the fact that if the demon was in there, she was out of your reach.  

You saw Dean exiting the crowd out of the corner of your eye and walked in his direction, pulling the shirt away from your skin, though once you let go, it immediately clung right back with a sick squelching sound. You crossed your arms in front of yourself instead, protecting what little modesty that you had left.  

“Not a word, Winchester,” You warned him. He put his hands up innocently, though you knew that he had something on the tip of his tongue that he wanted to say. 

You watched him as he took his heavy jacket off and he put it around your shoulders. You weren’t cold any longer, but you did take the opportunity to cover up, muttering a thank you as you crossed your arms in front of yourself to hide your wet t-shirt from view. “Can’t complain about a hundred bucks though,” he said, with a corny smile.

“I can complain that the demon bitch got away. I swear, she did that on purpose. Lead me to the stage so that I would get picked. Crowley is probably down there, laughing his ass off, knowing that his demon did this.” 

“We’ll find them,” Dean said, resolutely. “- after you buy me an overpriced beer. You can afford it.” 

You nudged him with the new weight of the jacket, making him chuckle. It was a welcome sound, after being humiliated and disappointed. “Fine, fine. One beer - but we’re looking for these hellspawns while we drink, yeah?” 

“Yeah,” Dean said, gruffly. “We’ll squish these cockroaches.” 

You nodded and he put his arm around your shoulders, leading you towards one of the makeshift bars on the beach, selling beer at three times the price of what they should be. Your heart was beating quickly again inside of your chest as you were pulled in close to him, the smell of his leather surrounding you. Your words flickered back to what the demoness had said - you clung to him. But right now, it almost looked like ... 

He was clinging to you. 

[slvt444books]

Indifference

In which Nanami kento finds himself drawn to you despite his usual indifference towards his usual coworkers

Nanami Kento was a “good” man. Always following the speed limit when driving, doing his taxes annually, and doing his share of work diligently for the sake of his coworkers, going to bed, and waking up at a reasonable time. There was one small flaw to his lifestyle, he was just so fucking bored.

It wasn't that he expected this lifestyle to be fulfilling in the slightest, yet there was something majorly lacking within his dreary life. It's not like he wanted to mirror Gojo’s life and whatever that idiot was up to, but he wanted to feel. To feel beyond the fleeting excitement of finding a new sandwich at the convenience store, or the prospect of a raise from his crummy boss that is. But it was fine, he’d simply save up then retire and live out his days in some tropical paradise.

That was until he met you. You filled the role of a temp who had been fired for slacking on the job. His expectations weren’t very high, to say the least. When you were introduced to him His first impression of you was that you were average. Attractive but yet average, long legs, full hair, round face with a neutral yet edgar expression across it, to be short you were beautiful, but still an Average looking woman. Your face wasn’t exactly the sort to stick around in his brain for years.

Either way, he had no plans whatsoever to get close to you or become too familiar. The line he drew between His personal life and work life was very clear. Not to be crossed. So he trained you accordingly, showing you the ins and outs of the business, you asked questions that proved that you paid attention to the boring rules and explanations, occasionally throwing a witty joke or two that he couldn't help to slightly grin at. (not that he'd show it) At the end of the work day, he walked with you to the front of the building, to find rain pouring down relentlessly. How cliche he thought, it reminded him of a rom com he saw while flipping through the television. Being the person that he was he carried a mini umbrella on him always. He turned to his right to see your face, obviously dreading getting drenched by the rain. So without thinking, he handed you the umbrella, walking away quickly to avoid any sort of dialogue between the two - why watch someone's day turn shitty like his usual ones?

He had made it an entire block until he heard the pitter-patter of squeaky shoes and breathless uneven pants right behind him. Then he felt the rain droplets stop kissing his head. It was you on your tippy toes holding the tiny convenience store umbrella over his head and shoulders- well half of his shoulders anyway. Before he could open his mouth to question your strange actions you quipped your mouth to say “I knew you were a bit strange but getting rained on for a total stranger? Not that strange ” You were joking but At a loss for words, he just stood there making an incredulous face at you. Why not just accept the umbrella and move on? Instead of just standing there like an idiot lacking a response he just simply said “I just thought you’d appreciate the umbrella, Nothing more.” With that, he turned back around to head home. But your voice reached him again “I didn’t mean to be rude or anything I just figured since we seemed in the same age group I could speak informally, sir” There seemed to be an underlying timidness in your voice that hadn't been there before. “It's fine” he uttered flatly, once he thought that he'd got off the hook and could leave you spoke once more “Could I take you to ramen to make up for my rudeness?” he sensed sincerity in your voice. Unlike many people he encountered daily. So he simply nodded and let you lead the way, maybe this could stop the your babbling and stop any awkwardness that lingered from this interaction, he lied to himself. The truth was he was intrigued by you. Why that was? He just couldn't seem to figure out.This entire day he seemed to act on a whim, not as logical as his usual self. Soon he found himself in a small poorly lit ramen shop downtown. In this moment it dawned on him that he wasn’t bored. A rare occurrence at the end of a long day. He found himself drawn to you oddly. Maybe he’d bend his rules and interact with you a bit more… just maybe.

[thescarletnargacuga]

ehehhe- *COUGH* aha, okay-

A showtime one shot with good ol' DIGITAL HALLUCINATIONS! (I was wondering what Caine had meant by this in the pilot, and what if it wasn't just a cover up for the door?)

Pomni finds herself in an unknown part of the area/game, and- well, hallucinates! She re-experiences her worst memories, even seeing alternative scenarios that went bad.

Caine eventually finds her, but she can't tell if he's real or not.

Looks like you're stuck in the fog...

-Fowl Anon

A/N: poor Pomni...

DIGITAL HALLUCINATIONS

A SHOWTIME ONESHOT

WARNING: trauma, nightmare imagery, body horror, angst, hurt/comfort

~~~

Pomni wasn't looking for trouble. She was in her room tossing a ball against the wall when it collided weird with her bed and it violently catapulted her to places unknown. She fell hundreds of feet below the map, bracing for the all too familiar impact.

SMACK!!

She laid face up, the wind knocked out of her. "....ow..." She wheezed. It took a minute for her to find her footing, but she eventually stood and looked around. She was out of bounds again. The blank, gridded walls went on for miles in every direction. She has no idea where she could go or even find game assets to use to get back up like last time, so she just started walking.

"Caine..? Hello? CAINE! ...for crying out loud. I wonder how long I'll be down here before he realizes I'm missing. Maybe I can find a void access point again. That seemed to get his attention in a hurry." She walked for what felt like hours, going deeper and deeper into the unseen bowels of the game. It was like a maze. At one point, she was convinced she was going in circles.

The longer she was down there alone, the more stressed she became. She started running to find something, anything that looked familiar. "Caine! Caine, please!" She called, but no one came.

She stopped in her tracks when something out of the corner of her eye moved around a corner. "HELLO!?" She panted and waited for a response.

Nothing. The out of bounds area was eerily quiet.

She ran after what she thought she saw. Rounding the corner, the gridded walls changed to brick. The vaulted ceiling became a night sky. A light post illuminated a rainy alley. Pmi spun around, the out of bounds was gone. "What the-!? Did I accidentally walk into a world Caine's made?"

Everything was so real. The rain, the damp alley smell, the sounds of cars beyond her line of sight. She stood in the flickering cone of the street light, unsure what to do, when a hooded figure with their hands in the large front pocket started aggressively walking right at her.

"Who are you? Hello? What's going on??" Pomni asked as she backed up, but the figure pulled a gun on her.

"Give me all your fucking money!!"

"I- What!? I don't-!?"

The mugger cocked the gun, pressing it to Pomni's head. "You think I'm playin'!? Give me the money, NOW!!"

Pomni backed up against the brick wall behind her, but it crumbled as she leaned her weight against it. She fell through. Suddenly, she was on the floor of a hospital room. No rain or brick walls or muggers. She got up quickly, seeing another unknown person in the bed in front of her.

"What is happening??" Pomni begging the person, but they seemed to be asleep. Pomni got a little closer. It was a middle aged woman, but she was sick beyond her years. Whatever she was in the hospital for, it was terminal. "Hello?"

The sick woman opened her eyes and smiled at Pomni. She opened her mouth to speak, but only coughed.

"Don't- don't stress yourself, uh...I can find help elsewhere." Pomni started to back up but the woman held her hand out pleadingly. "I'm sorry, I don't, uh.... Let me get someone for you."

The sick woman closed her sad eyes. The heart monitor she was connected to flatlined.

Pomni ran out of the room and down the hall. "This isn't real. None of this is real." She told herself over and over, and yet her heart hurt for a woman she didn't even recognize. It could've been an NPC for all she knew.

The hospital halls became a school hall. Dozens of eyes peered through the small windows on the classroom doors. Pomni kept running. The doors behind her opened one after another. A horse of children piled out and scampered across the floor and walls like hell-spawns, jeering and screaming at her.

Tears streaked down Pomni's face. Her conscious mind has no idea what was happening, but subconsciously she knew this place. The bullying, the loss, the fear, all of it was clawing at the back of her mind.

She got to the end of the hall and threw herself through the door. She slammed it behind her, and now she was in an area she recognized. An office. A very plain but uncanny liminal space. "CAAAAAINE! CAINE, HELP ME!!" She begged for him to hear her, but no one came.

After catching her breath, she kept going. Staying in one spot was never going to help. The offices repeated, feeling less and less real the further she went. Then she saw it. The computer. The headset.

Maybe that was the way back. She picked up the headset and looked into it. Blackness. She tried turning on the computer. Nothing. "Come on! What do I do!?"

"Useless girl."

Pomni just about jumpedout of her skin. She spun to see a man in business casual loom in the doorframe. He was so tall, he had to duck to step inside the office space. His limbs were unnaturally long. His hands were thin and gangly, with yellow unkept fingernails. The worst part, he has no face. Only a hole, lined with rows and rows of needle like teeth.

"YOU DON'T BELONG HERE!" The monster boomed and rushed Pomni.

Pomni did the only thing she could think of and jumped out the window. She fell and fell and fell down into darkness. Voices surrounded her. They screeched and screamed and called and laughed. She felt like she knew all of them, but could tell from where or when.

Circus music gradually drowned out the voices and she landed on top of a yellow and red striped tent. She rolled down the roof and landed hard on the ground. It was the digital circus tent but the grounds looked off. "CAINE! CAINE!!!" she screamed her voice hoarse, but no one came.

She was too scared to keep going. She didn't want to know how this nightmare could get worse, but it gave her no choice. The nightmare came to her. The entrance to the tent opened on its own and five familiar voices tried to call her inside. The distorted and echoing voices of Ragatha, Gangle, Zooble, Jax and Kinger became louder the more she ignored them. She had to cover her ears.

She could hear through her hands that the voices were getting closer to the entrance and she backed away. A massive glitching claw came out of the darkness and slammed into the ground in front of her. Then another. And another. The largest abstraction Pomni has ever seen emerged, carrying static features and voices of the entire circus cast.

"THIS YOUR FATE! THIS IS YOUR FATE! THIS IS YOUR FATE!" The abstraction repeated over and over as it got closer.

Pomni couldn't run no matter how hard she tried. It was like her feet were made of cement. She got only two steps in when the abstraction was upon her, it's digital body splitting open to consume her whole.

Pomni's broken voice couldn't scream as she felt something wrap around her middle. She kicked and flailed, but the hold was strong. Her digital body felt useless for fighting back.

"POMNI! POMNI, IT'S ME!! STOP- OW!" Caine held his eye that she just threw her elbow into.

Pomni hyperventilated against Caine. She death gripped his arms and blinked several times as she looked around in panic. She was still out of bounds, but everything was blank again. No monsters, no liminal spaces, no people with weapons.

"Pomni, you're okay. Everything is okay." Caine soothed. "What happened? How did you get back here?"

"Monsters." Pomni's voice was weak.

"Monsters? There are no monsters here. Well, none active, at least."

"I saw people. Real people. And places. And monsters. Everything wanted to hurt me."

"Real...? Oh no. Digital hallucinations-"

"I KNOW WHAT I SAW!!" Pomni screeched and coughed from the strain on her voice.

"I know, dear. You're not crazy. It's a real thing. This place has unforeseen effects on the human mind. It's why I don't let anyone back here. You go deep enough and you start...seeing things. People and places your mind knows, but you don't. I understand it's a very frightening experience." Caine gently pulled her close and ran a hand soothingly across her back. "I'm sorry I didn't come sooner. Everything is okay. None of it was real. You aren't in any danger."

Pomni slowly calmed, loosening her grip and hugging Caine back. "I want to get out of here."

Caine teleported to Pomni's room. The bed is completely fine. The ball she'd been throwing was on her nightstand. Pomni was still trembling, refusing to let go of Caine.

He sat on the bed and cradled Pomni, her head resting on his shoulder. "You don't need to tell me what you saw. It must have been terrible to make you react like this."

Pomni could only give a pathetic whimper in response.

"You're safe now. I'll.... I'll figure out a way for you to contact my watch. I won't let this happen to you again. I promise."

[cheynovak]

Sugar - Part 7  The final chapter

Soldier boy x F/ reader  (Y/N)       

Warnings: 18+, sex, age difference, anger, hurst, angst, happy ending...

Side note: English isn’t my first language.          

*Does not follow The Boys storyline * 

--      

Y/N is a college student who pays her apartment, bills and school tuition with the money she makes as ‘sugar baby’ for Soldier boy. What started as just being a companion on lonely moments became quickly more physical.     But how will Y/N cope with the dominant side of Ben when he finds out she has a life beside pleasuring him?    

-- 

Ben watched the door close in his face, rain started pouring down on him, the finality of Y/N's words echoing in his mind.

He had lost her, and the weight of that realization crushed him. He stood there for a long time, unable to move, his heart aching with regret and sorrow. Eventually, he turned away. 

The next few weeks blurred together in a haze of pain and self-destruction. Ben couldn't bear the emptiness that Y/N's absence left in his life, and he turned to anything that might dull the ache. He started drinking even more heavily, spending his nights in bars, downing shot after shot in an attempt to forget his pain. 

But alcohol wasn't enough to drown out the memories of her smile, her laughter, the warmth of her touch. Desperate for a deeper escape. It started with adding an extra few lines of cocaine, then escalated to pills and other substances. The highs were fleeting, but for a brief moment, they allowed him to escape the torment of his own thoughts. 

His downward spiral continued to deepen as he sought solace in the arms of other women. He frequented seedy motels and cheap escorts, trying to fill the void that Y/N had left. But no amount of meaningless sex could replace what he had lost, and each morning he woke up feeling even more hollow and broken than before. 

One night, as Ben stumbled out of yet another bar, high and barely coherent, he pulled out his phone and dialled the number of the only person he could think of. It rang a few times before a groggy voice answered. "What the hell, man? It's 3 AM." 

-- 

The next morning, Ben woke up on Legend's couch, feeling the effects of his latest binge. His head pounded, and his body ached, but the worst pain was the emotional one. Legend sat nearby, watching him with a mix of concern and anger. 

"You look like hell," Legend said bluntly. "How much did you take? No fuck that, what did you do?" 

Ben took a deep breath, trying to steady himself. "I messed up, Legend. I lost her. Legend sighed, shaking his head. " You need to get your shit together. She is just a girl, you’ll find another one.”  

Ben didn’t even listen, drowning in self-pity. 

One evening, Ben found himself back at Legend's place, as they sat in the dimly lit living room, the atmosphere felt heavy with unspoken tension. "So, what's next for you, man?" Legend asked, taking a swig of his whiskey.  

Ben hesitated, then said, "I’m going to try and talk to Y/N. Apologize. Try to make things right." 

Legend scoffed, shaking his head. "Forget about her, Ben. She's just another girl, a pussy to fuck. You don't need to go chasing after some chick who can't handle you. "Ben's expression darkened, his jaw clenching. "She's not just another girl.” 

Legend rolled his eyes. "Seriously, man? Get over it. There are plenty of girls out there. You can find another one to screw." 

The crude dismissal of Y/N as nothing more than a sexual object snapped something inside Ben. Before he knew it, he was on his feet, grabbing Legend by the collar and slamming him against the wall. His hand clamped around Legend's neck, his grip tight and unyielding. 

"Don't you ever talk about her like that," Ben growled, his voice low and dangerous. "She's more than that. She's worth more than.” 

Legend's eyes widened with shock and fear. He struggled to breathe, his hands clawing at Ben's arm. "Ben... let go..." Ben's eyes blazed with fury, but after a few tense seconds, he released his hold and stepped back, his chest heaving with anger. Legend crumpled to the floor, gasping for air. 

"What's wrong with you, man?" Legend sputtered, rubbing his neck. "You need to calm the hell down." 

Ben glared at him. "I won't let anyone talk about her like that. Not even you." Legend looked up at him, still shaken. "I... I didn’t mean anything by it. I was just trying to help you move on." Ben shook his head leaving his penthouse.  

Legend was nursing his bruised ego and neck. He couldn't shake the confrontation from his mind. He knew Ben was serious about Y/N, but he still thought it was all unnecessary drama. Deciding to take matters into his own hands before Ben would do stupid things he couldn’t fix, he picked up his phone and dialled Y/N's number.  

"Hello?" Y/N's voice came through, cautious and guarded. 

"Y/N, it's The Legend," he said, his tone attempting to sound friendly. "I think we need to talk. It's about Ben." 

"What about him?" she asked, suspicion clear in her voice. 

"Look, he’s been going through a rough time, and I know he wants to make things right with you. He just left my place.” 

“Did he made you call me?” He heard how displeased she was. 

“No, no he doesn’t know I was calling you, but he really cares about you. Can you please give him a chance?" 

Y/N sighed. "Legend, I appreciate the concern. But this isn't something you can fix with a phone call." 

"I get that," Legend replied, "He's trying... to be better. Just... hear him out, okay?" 

There was a long pause before Y/N responded. "I'll think about it. But Legend, this is between Ben and me. Please stay out of it." 

"Understood," he said, ending the call. 

-- 

A few days later. 

Ben found himself alone in his apartment, as he sat on the couch, lost in thought, a knock at the door pulled him from his thoughts. He wasn't expecting anyone, and a flicker of anxiety ran through him as he approached the door. When he opened it, his heart skipped a beat. 

Y/N stood there, looking determined yet slightly apprehensive. Ben blinked, unable to hide his surprise. "Y/N? What are you doing here?" 

"I'm ready to talk," she said simply, her voice steady. Ben stepped aside to let her in, his mind racing. She entered the apartment, taking a moment to look around before settling on the edge of the couch. Ben joined her, keeping a respectful distance. 

"I wasn't sure I would see you anymore," he admitted, his voice low. "I wasn't sure either," Y/N replied, her gaze meeting his. Ben nodded, his heart pounding while they sat down on the couch again. 

She took a deep breath, gathering her thoughts. "I need to understand why things went the way they did. Why you pushed me away, why you hurt me?” 

Ben ran a hand through his hair, feeling the weight of her words. "I was scared," he finally confessed. “Why?” she asked, she saw how difficult it was for him to answer. “I think I deserve this, Ben.”  

"I was terrified of not being enough for you, of not living up to your expectations. So I pushed you away before you could see how flawed I am.” Y/N listened, her expression softening slightly. "Ben, I never expected you to be perfect. I know your flaws.” 

As they sat in a moment of comfortable silence, Ben's curiosity got the better of him. He wanted to know how Y/N was really doing, beyond their complicated relationship. "How's school going?" he asked gently, hoping to steer the conversation into safer territory. 

Y/N's expression immediately shifted, her eyes welling up with tears. She looked down at her hands, trying to compose herself. "It's been... hard," she admitted, her voice trembling. "Ever since our fight, people have been treating me differently. They make jokes, call me names... they treat me like a whore." 

Ben's heart sank, guilt crashing over him like a tidal wave. "Y/N, I'm so sorry. I had no idea... I never meant for any of this to happen." She wiped at her eyes, trying to hold back the tears. 

She looked at him, her eyes filled with a mixture of sadness and vulnerability. "Ben, I don't blame you, not entirely... We both made mistakes. But it hurts, and... I don't know how to make it stop." Her tears started to stream down her cheeks. 

Ben reached out, taking her hand in his. Wanting nothing more than to pull her close to him, comforting her. 

Y/N looked up, meeting Ben's gaze, and saw something soft and tender in his eyes. The vulnerability and care reflecting, it made her heart ache with a confusing mix of emotions. She couldn't hold his gaze for long, feeling overwhelmed by the depth of his expression. 

His hand, warm and firm, enveloped hers, offering both comfort and connection. The weight of the world seemed to lighten just a bit with his touch. Ben's green eyes remained gentle, filled with an unspoken promise of support and understanding. It was a look she hadn't seen in a long time, one that made her feel safe and cherished despite everything. 

But also, one he would hide away every change he had, but not today, no it seemed like he was purposely showing her the man behind the armour.  

Without thinking, Y/N leaned in, resting her head against his shoulder, in the crook of his neck. She closed her eyes, breathing in his familiar scent, woodsy, but clean, a fragrance that had always brought her a sense of peace. 

Ben's arm instinctively wrapped around her, holding her close. The gesture was tender, protective, and Y/N felt a sense of calm wash over her. For a moment, all the hurt and chaos of the past weeks faded away, leaving just the two of them in their little bubble of comfort. 

And then for the first time in his life Ben said, "I'm so sorry for everything, Y/N," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. "I wish I could take back all the pain I've caused you." She nuzzled deeper into his neck, feeling the steady rise and fall of his breath. 

He tightened his hold on her, his heart swelling with a mix of hope and regret. "I promise I'll do better.” 

After what felt like an eternity, Ben gently kissed the top of Y/N's hair. The simple gesture sent a rush through her veins, igniting a spark that had been dimmed by their past pain. She could feel his breath against her scalp, warm and steady, grounding her in the present moment. 

Without thinking, her lips moved over the vein on his neck, not quite kissing but caressing his skin with soft, delicate brushes. She could feel his pulse quicken beneath her touch, a subtle thrum that mirrored the rising tempo of her own heartbeat. His breath hitched, and she felt the slight tremor in his body, a mixture of anticipation and restraint. 

His hand moving to cradle the back of her head, fingers tangling in her hair. He was torn between the urge to pull her closer and the need to respect her boundaries, uncertain of how far she wanted to go. The intimate connection between them was both exhilarating and fragile, a delicate balance of longing and hesitation. 

"Y/N," he whispered, his voice barely audible, filled with a blend of desire and caution. "You don't have to..." But she interrupted softly, lifting her head to meet his gaze. Her eyes were dark with emotion.  "I want to, but I need to know we're on the same page, Ben. That this isn't just a moment." 

“Tell me it’s not just physical.” she pleads. 

Ben cupped her face gently, his thumb brushing across her cheek. "It’s not just a moment," he assured her, his voice steady and sincere. "I want you, Y/N. Not just physical.” 

Her heart swelled at his words, the sincerity in his eyes melting away the last remnants of doubt. She leaned in closer, her lips brushing against his in a tentative, tender kiss. Ben responded with equal tenderness, deepening the kiss with a careful intensity that spoke volumes. His hands moved to her waist, pulling her closer as if afraid she might slip away.  

Y/N's hands moved to the back of his neck, fingers threading through his hair. The simple, intimate contact sent shivers down both their spines. Their breaths mingled, creating an electric atmosphere between them. Tongues asking permission to tango.  

Feeling a surge of need and urgency, Ben gently pulled her onto his lap. Y/N straddled him, her legs resting on either side of his hips. The closeness intensified the heat rushing between them, a connection they'd been craving for so long.  

His hands roamed from her thighs up to her back, drawing her even closer, while her fingers played with the strands of his hair, earning a soft groan from him. 

Their eyes locked, communicating a myriad of emotions without words. The world outside ceased to exist as they lost themselves in each other's presence. Ben leaned in, Y/N responded eagerly, deepening the kiss as her hands slid down to his shoulders, feeling the strength beneath his shirt. 

Ben's hands moved from her back to her hips, gripping them firmly but gently, guiding her movements as she felt his bulge growing underneath the fabric of his pants. The sensation of her warmth against him was intoxicating, driving him to explore further.  

He broke the kiss momentarily, trailing soft kisses along her jawline and down her neck, unable for her to keep a soft moan from escaping her lips. 

Her heart raced as she felt his lips on her skin, every touch sending a jolt of electricity through her body. She tilted her head back, giving him better access as she revelled in the sensation. The way he held her, the way he kissed her, everything felt right, as if they were finally aligning after being out of sync for so long. 

Y/N's hands roamed over his shoulders and down his chest, feeling the rapid beat of his heart beneath her palm. "Ben," she breathed, her voice a mix of desire and vulnerability. As their passion intensified, Ben's hands trailed down to her ass, leaving a trail of fire along her skin.  

With each caress, she felt herself unravelling, the tension and pain of the past weeks melting away in the heat of their desire. She let out a soft sigh as his fingers found the hem of her shirt, inching it upwards with a tantalizing slowness. 

Her own hands eagerly exploring the expanse of Ben's chest, feeling the warmth of his skin beneath her fingertips. His muscles tensed and relaxed under her touch, a silent invitation for her to continue. With a shaky breath, she began to unbutton his shirt, revealing the strong lines of his torso inch by inch. 

Their kisses grew more fervent, hungry and desperate, as if trying to convey the depth of their longing through touch alone. Ben's hands roamed lower, tracing the curves of Y/N's body with an almost reverent touch. She gasped as his fingers brushed against her clothes core. 

With a silent understanding, they shed their remaining clothing, each piece a barrier to the intimacy they craved. In the dim light of the room, they stood before him, vulnerable yet unashamed.  

Y/N found herself on her knees between Ben's legs. Their gazes locked, filled with a raw desire that spoke volumes without a single word. In this intimate moment, they were lost in each other's eyes, the world around them fading. 

She gently tugged his pants and boxers down, freeing him. pressing her lips against the sensitive skin of his hip. Ben's breath caught in his throat as he felt the warmth of her mouth against his skin, sending a jolt of pleasure straight to his core. 

He watched with a mix of anticipation and longing as she moved closer, her lips trailing a path of fire along his thigh, inching ever closer to her destination. When she finally reached him, she hesitated for a moment, her eyes searching his for reassurance.  

Finding nothing but desire and trust reflected back at her. Ben's sharp intake of breath filled the room as she took him in her hand, her fingers wrapping around his length. She began with soft, slow strokes, feeling him harden even more in her grip.  

The warmth of his skin, the weight of him in her hand, all sent shivers of excitement through her. Leaning forward, she placed a soft kiss on the tip before parting her lips and taking him into her mouth.  

She moved slowly at first, letting her tongue swirl around the head, the taste of him alone made her moan. Ben groaned, his hand coming to rest on her head, his fingers tangling gently in her hair.  

Y/N worked him with a combination of skill and desperation, needing to hear more of his words, to feel his approval. That's it, baby," he murmured, "You're so good at this," he groaned, his voice rough with arousal.  

"So perfect. My perfect girl." His words spurred her on, her pace quickening as she took him deeper. Ben's breaths grew ragged, his hips thrusting gently in time with her movements. "That's it, sugar," he murmured, his voice dripping with praise.  

"Just like that." Encouraged by his response, Y/N took him deeper, hollowing her cheeks as she moved her mouth up and down his shaft. She used one hand to stroke the base, while the other hand rested on his thigh for balance.  

Her movements were steady and deliberate, her eyes flicking up to meet his every so often, drinking in the sight of his pleasure. Y/N adjusted her angle, taking him even deeper into her throat. She could feel every ridge and vein of him against her tongue, and the sensation made her own arousal build.  

She bobbed her head, her rhythm steady and unrelenting, her hand moving in sync with her mouth. The sensation was exquisite, sending a surge of pleasure coursing through Ben's veins. He let out a low groan, his hands tangling in her hair as he surrendered to the overwhelming waves of sensation crashing over him.  

Her touch was gentle yet firm, her lips and tongue working in perfect harmony to drive him to the brink of ecstasy and back. 

She could feel him holding back, trying not to push her head down. But the loved the way he reacted, how she felt his grip in her hair tighten, how his hips sporadically bucked up. And the way he praised her... made her moan.  

“Oh, that’s it, sugar... fuck.” 

As Y/N continued to pleasure him, Ben's breathing grew more erratic, and she could tell he was close. Suddenly, he pulled her away, stopping her just before he could come. She looked up at him, confusion and desire mingling in her eyes. Without a word, Ben lifted her from her knees, pulling her onto his lap so that she straddled him. 

He leaned in, capturing her lips in a deep kiss. His tongue swept into her mouth, claiming her with a possessive hunger that made her moan softly against his lips. As they kissed, his hand moved between her thighs, slipping under the fabric of her panties.  

His fingers found her slick with arousal, and he let out a groan of appreciation. "You're so wet," he murmured against her lips, his voice husky with desire. "All for me." His fingers slid through her folds, teasing her entrance before circling her clit with gentle, deliberate strokes. 

 Y/N gasped, her hips rocking against his hand, seeking more of his touch. Her need for him was overwhelming, every nerve in her body alight with longing. "Ben," she breathed, her voice trembling with need.  

"Please..." He grinned, a predatory glint in his eyes as he watched her writhe above him. "Patience, sugar," he said, his fingers continuing their tormenting dance. "I want to feel you come undone for me."  

Her hands clutched at his shoulders, her nails digging into his skin as she fought to stay upright. Ben's other hand slid up her back, pulling her closer as he kissed her breasts. Ben added another finger, increasing the intensity. He alternated between gentle caresses and firmer, more insistent movements, keeping her on the edge but never quite allowing her to tip over into climax.  

Ben's fingers worked her expertly, curling slightly to find that perfect spot inside her. The sensation was electric, and Y/N felt herself teetering on the edge of an overwhelming orgasm. "Ben, I'm so close," she whimpered, her voice a mix of desperation and desire.  

"Come for me sugar." With a final, confident movement, he pressed his fingers deeper, his thumb circling her clit. The pressure built to an unbearable peak, and with one last thrust and swirl of his fingers, he sent her over the edge. Her body convulsed in his arms, waves of pleasure crashing through her as she cried out his name.  

Throughout her climax, Ben's fingers continued their ministrations, drawing out every last shudder of pleasure until she was left trembling and breathless in his arms. As her trembling subsided, he gently guided her hips, aligning himself with her entrance.  

He looked into her eyes, his gaze filled with a mix of desire and tenderness. "Are you ready?" he asked, his voice soft and intimate. Y/N nodded, her breath still coming in heavy pants. "Yes," she whispered, her eyes locked onto his.  

Slowly, he entered her, filling her completely. She gasped at the sensation, her body adjusting. Ben's hands moved to her hips, guiding her movements as she began to ride him. The slow, sensual rhythm they found together was both intoxicating and deeply satisfying. His eyes darkened with renewed desire, and his grip on her hips tightened.  

He began to guide her movements with more force, his fingers digging into her skin in a way that sent delicious shivers down her spine. "That's my girl," he growled, his voice a rough whisper. "I need you to ride me harder, sugar."  

With his guidance, Y/N started to move with more urgency, her hips rocking back and forth with a rhythm that matched his rising intensity. Ben's hands moved to her waist, his fingers pressing into her flesh as he pulled her down onto him with each thrust, driving himself deeper inside her.  

The sensation was overwhelming, a perfect blend of roughness and tenderness that made her head spin. "Just like that," he praised, his voice thick with pleasure. "You're doing so good, baby. Don't stop." He thrust up into her, meeting her movements with a force that made her gasp.  

Each collision of their bodies sent waves of pleasure radiating through her, the friction and heat building to an almost unbearable intensity. Ben's eyes never left hers, mesmerized by the look of her.  

You're so tight," he groaned, his grip on her waist tightening even further. "I can't get enough of you." His words spurred her on, her movements growing more frantic as she rode him. She could feel another orgasm building, the pressure inside her mounting with each hard, deep thrust.  

Ben's hands roamed over her body, one moving up to cup her breast, his thumb brushing over her nipple in a way that made her cry out. He leaned forward, capturing her lips in a bruising kiss, his tongue demanding and insistent. The kiss was a perfect mirror of their physical connection intense, consuming, and utterly passionate.  

"Come for me again," he commanded, his voice a low, urgent growl. "I want to feel you come around me." Y/N's body obeyed before her mind could catch up, the combination of his rough thrusts and his commanding word. 

They stayed locked together, their bodies trembling with the aftershocks of their shared pleasure. Ben's grip on her softened, his hands moving to gently stroke her back as they caught their breath. He looked up at her. “If I had known that this was the way to make it up to you. I wouldn’t have waited so long.” 

Y/N smiled weakly, her heart full and her body spent. She leaned down to kiss him softly, their connection feeling stronger than ever. “Ben I...” she said still out of breath but his kiss interrupted her. 

Ben looked in her eyes, seeing the hope shimmering. Seeing his future before him. His hand caressed her cheek, eyes tracing her face, ready to tell her the one thing he was scared of, for so long.

And then he finally whispered:  “I love you.”  

--

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@syrma-sensei @suckitands33 @mostlymarvelgirl @globetrotter28 @jackles010378 @hobby27 @call-me-mrs-winchester @yvonneeeee

[agustdiv1ne]

hi!! congrats on 3k <3

for the event, could i request taehyun + twilight + fluff/smut

tysm! and congrats again!!

NOW SHOWING...

pairing: kang taehyun x fem!reader

genre: fantasy/supernatural, fluff, smut

wc: 2.8k

details + warnings: mdni, vampire!taehyun + human!mc are not representative of any particular characters they're just vibing in the twilightsphere, taehyun (looks-wise,,) + mc are in their early twenties, sex in the great outdoors, dom!tae, sub!mc, mc is kind of a masochist LOL, light spanking (f receiving), praise, thigh riding, face sitting, tae calls mc: baby

note: thank you nonnie!! i hope you enjoy :))

you maybe, kind of, sort of hate the town that is forks, washington.

forks, in your honest opinion, is...painfully gray. clouds constantly hide the sun from view. it is almost always raining. fog is the norm, not the exception. the real cherry on top is how the town is blocked in and divvied up by expanses of creepy trees of which you have no desire to step even a single toe into. it's dreary, it's boring, it's weird — and it's just all too fucking gray.

you wonder what your life would be like if you had left while you could, if you had uprooted your life and attended college in some state far, far away, if you had gotten a degree and become a teacher or an artist or even some bigshot lawyer. maybe you wouldn't be wasting the years of your youth in your parents' little diner. maybe you wouldn't be stuck with the indelible expectation that said diner will be yours one day, hanging dark and heavy over your head like the storm clouds that loom over your house ninety-nine percent of the year.

then again, if you had left, you would never have met taehyun.

he moved into town when you were nineteen, an age at which you were hard-headed and bitter because everyone else your age had already moved on to bigger and better things while you were abysmally stuck like a tire in mud. you felt abandoned, alone, and you saw yourself in him because he, too, seemed to have no one else.

at the same time, you also thought he was a little strange — stoic, reserved, out at odd hours of the night — but you couldn't really judge, lest you sound like a raging hypocrite. you remember the first time that you saw him: it was well after midnight, you had just closed the the diner, and the streets were eerily empty — yet there he stood, across the street, turned away towards the tree line. he seemed to have been watching something in the woods, but as soon as he picked up on the crunch of your shoes against the gravel parking lot and saw you behind him, he fled, gone as quick as lightning. you almost thought that he was a figment of your imagination, that you were finally losing it after your nearly lethal consumption of caffeine that night.

however, after that incident, he began to show up during your shifts, sitting in the far corner of the small space for hours, answering your questions with curt nods and quiet hums. very real, very much not a hallucination. he never ordered anything other than a water, and his eyes often stayed trained on the woods that lay just outside the windows. watching, waiting (for what, you didn't know, but you didn't really care to find out). though the fact that he never once ordered something — not even a basket of fries, or a milkshake — irritated you to no end, but you bit your tongue like a good waitress had to and allowed him to sit there. not many people stopped by at such late hours, anyway, and maybe his presence cured some of your loneliness; he wasn't good company, by any means, but company nonetheless.

one particular night, a few months after he began to come in, things simply weren't going your way. if the argument between you and your parents before your night shift started wasn't enough, you burned your forearm when you accidentally spilled a pot of coffee and slipped and fell onto the unforgiving linoleum floors while carrying two plates of food. by the time he showed up, you were in the middle of a full-blown mental breakdown and could barely hold back tears as you greeted him at his normal booth.

“are you okay?” he had asked, his eyebrows furrowed, betraying his typically apathetic expression. in response, you burst into tears, apologizing as you attempted to run to the back, but he stopped you, his ice-cold fingers looped around your wrist. the sensation sent shivers straight down your spine, something that you can still vividly remember. you whipped around to face him. his wide, carob eyes cut through you with an intensity that you’d never experienced before. “sit. with me, i mean.”

“i-i’m working,” you choked out. 

his lips formed a flat line. “no one else is here.”

“fine,” you mumbled, taking a seat on the other side of the booth. he had let you vent about everything and anything that plagued you, silent while he listened. the words he spoke once you finally exhausted yourself stick in your mind to this very day.

“it’s never too late to start carving your own path, y’know. you’re young, you have time.”

things changed after that night. a friendship bloomed, then a relationship began after about six months of knowing each other. things changed again, however, growing strange once you did begin dating. he made constant excuses as to why he couldn't sleep over and why you couldn't come over to his place; he didn't touch you often; and the weirdest of all his habits: he never, ever went anywhere near your neck, whether it be with his hands or his lips. loneliness and the acrid feeling of being unwanted returned in full force, nipping at each and every nerve within your body.

sick of it all, you eventually confronted him about it during a picnic date in a large clearing one evening. naturally, when your boyfriend admitted to you that he's a vampire — in the middle of the woods — and showed you his sparkling fucking skin, you were freaked the hell out. yet, in the end, it didn't scare you away, especially once he said that he only ever fed from animals he'd find in the woods. you cared for him just as much as he cared for you — human or not, you decided that you loved him either way.

(also, he'd always seemed a little off, other. maybe you were a little satisfied to know that you were right, but you'd never admit to that.)

nearly two years have passed since then, and while your feelings about forks haven't changed in the slightest, taehyun brings an ironic sense of life to the dismal little town.

“you’re staring.”

you feel your face heat up at your boyfriend’s words, your gaze immediately diverting away. you were not staring, no way. though he moves to find your eyes again, you maneuver out of his hold, now glaring at a spot on his shoulder. “no, i wasn’t.”

“aaand your heart rate just picked up.”

“you’re so unfair,” you hiss. “just— just keep your stupid vampire senses to yourself!”

he laughs, the sound light and melodic, as he attempts to wrap his arms around you again. you've turned away from him, arms crossed over your chest and in a state of faux despondency. he knows just how to press your buttons; the fact that he can pick up on each and every minute change of your heart rate and scent will forever be something that gets to you. you can't hide anything from him, and both of you know it.

you feel like you spend every waking hour with taehyun nowadays. if you're not working, you're with him doing fuck all just to spend time with each other, but even in the most mundane moments, boredom never becomes an issue. even right now, as you lay together in this small clearing in the forest, simply talking and staring up at the pewter clouds, everything feels...right? complete? you think that's the word that you should use — like the final piece being placed into a puzzle.

“c’mon, you can’t stay mad at me,” he goads. he blows into your ear afterward to make you flinch, earning a yelp in response. “you just make it so easy to tease you.”

“yeah, yeah. make fun of the defenseless human,” you sigh, turning back around to face him with pursed lips, delivering a firm poke to his forehead. “you’re lucky that you’re pretty.”

if he had said anything similar to you a couple years ago, you would've likely stormed off and ignored him for hours. you're not proud of how you once acted, but at least you've grown softer around the edges over the years. kinder, less resentful. and rather than tear your walls down, he scaled them slowly and met you at the top, took them apart brick by incorporeal brick as the trust between you grew, gentle and never prying.

one of his eyebrows raises. “pretty, hm? is that all i am to you?”

pretending to think, you tap your chin, your eyes shifting up towards the sky. you've grown softer, no doubt, but your witty edge refuses to disappear. how else could you keep up with him?

you make eye contact with him again, finding an expectant glint in them. you can barely bite back the smirk fighting to pull at your lips. “hmm...yeah, i think that’s about it.”

“you are such a brat, my god,” he groans, head falling against your chest. “is your life goal just to rile me up?”

“honestly? yeah. it’s just so easy to tease you,” you throw his earlier jeer straight back into his face, but the words are soon followed by a series of shrieks as he pushes you onto your stomach, unfazed by your feeble attempts to break away from his inhumanly strong hold. a hand leaves your wriggling waist to deliver a light slap to your ass. it’s careful, barely there. he knows how much more fragile you are compared to him, after all. the last thing he’d want to do is hurt you. 

what he doesn't account for is the way you'd moan at the sensation.

a tense silence overtakes the air around you, the only noises remaining being the rustle of trees and the chirping of birds. you've all but buried your head into your arms. although your current position renders him unable to catch your flustered expression, your scent — fuck, your scent has changed, something heady and sweet and it's almost as if he can taste the lust and need rolling off of your form. your blood rushes faster beneath your skin, the erratic ba-bump of your heart loud in his ears. he pushes his base instincts down; he's better than this. he can't hurt you — he won't.

“you— did you like that?” he carefully asks, a gentle hand pressing into the middle of your spine. it’s not often you find each other in spontaneous intimate moments, mostly due to his fear of losing control, but your trust in him is immutable. in the span of two years, he has not once hurt you — but you still find yourself shaking your head in denial, the embarrassing heat gracing your cheeks keeping you from looking at him. he won’t hurt you, you know that, but that doesn’t change just how mortifying this moment is. you and him haven’t explored this part of your sexuality yet, the hidden side of you that enjoys a little pain amongst all the pleasure. it’s something that you’ve barely touched upon yourself.

taehyun, on the other hand, isn't satisfied with your answer. a morbid curiosity eats at his nerves, and he can't help himself from gathering you into his lap so that you straddle his hips. you are wearing a thick pair of jeans today, but it's not enough to prevent your scent from overwhelming his senses further due to your spread apart thighs. he steels himself, trying not to press the pads of his fingers into your hips too hard. you still refuse to look at him, your head hanging low and bottom lip tucked beneath your teeth. he brings a hand to your chin, tilting your head up. your eyes divert to his shoulder under his intense gaze.

“look at me, baby,” he orders softly. he watches a shudder run through you before you listen to him. the muscles of your throat contract as you gulp, though his expression remains neutral, his fingers squeezing your chin. “i’m going to ask you one more time: did you like that? did it feel good?”

inhale, exhale, nod.

his lips purse. “words, baby.”

“y-yes,” you whisper, weak and breathy, like you don’t want to admit it to yourself either. it earns you a quiet “good girl” and his thumb brushing over your lower lip. 

taehyun stares at you for a moment before he asks, “do you trust me?”

of course you do, and you tell him just that, pulling a smile from him. “i want you to take your jeans and panties off for me, okay?”

you nod, rolling off his lap with shaky limbs and removing everything below your waist. the chilly air nips at your bare skin.

he takes no time in maneuvering you back onto his lap, legs straddling only one of his thighs now. you send him a questioning glance, with which he responds by rubbing soothing circles against your bare hips beneath your oversized sweater.

“get yourself off on my thigh,” he encourages. he doesn’t trust himself to be inside of you right now — he’s barely keeping it together as it is — but that won’t stop him from making you feel good.

you're silent as you take an experimental roll of your hips. the friction of your clit against the rough fabric of his jeans causes your mouth to fall open. you press your hands against his chest, grinding down again. and again. and again. the picnic blanket below you digs into your knees. taehyun grabs your hips a little tighter, beginning to help you move your hips faster, pressing you down harder. his grip is nearly bruising, but the ache that it brings renders you speechless, unable to speak besides the quiet gasps that you let out. quickly, you grow lost in the pleasure, the delicious friction against your clit growing more intense as the seconds tick by.

smack! taehyun brings a hand down against the swell of your ass, much harder than the teasing one he gave you earlier. you jolt on top of him with a loud moan, clenching around nothing. “tae— fuck!”

“yeah? what is it, baby?” he coos, slapping his palm down again. he’s barely breathing, monitoring your expression to make sure he’s not hurting you too much. but all he finds is pure, unadulterated pleasure, your head thrown back and your eyes fluttering as your movements grow more desperate. his head grows fuzzy at your strengthening scent.

“gonna— ‘m gonna cum, please,” you whine, nails now digging into his chest. you look like pure sin, with your flustered face and heaving chest and your glazed over eyes straight into his. “please please please—”

he can't take it anymore.

suddenly, your body careens through the air before you can even process it, your thighs now cushioning taehyun's face while he fully lays back. he gives you no time to complain of your ruined orgasm, his lips suckling your clit while his tongue circles the weeping bud. your hands grab at his hair, pressing down. there's no way that you can hurt him, so you allow yourself to grind down on his face like you did his thigh, using his face as your own personal toy. he gropes your ass all the while, pushing you further down against him until you smother him, ravaging you whole. you can no longer hold in your moans, and they only serve to spur him on. one of his razor-sharp teeth slides against your lower lips, and that's enough for your high to wash over you, your vision flashing white while you quake above him. he holds you up with strong hands, continuing to tongue at your clit until you're pushing his head away.

“tae, stop,” you beg while he cleans you up, ignoring your heightened sensitivity. “tae.”

“fine, fine,” he mumbles once he pulls his mouth away from your center. “can’t help it, you taste good.”

“quit being embarrassing,” you groan, your submissive tendencies all but gone. you struggle to lift yourself off of him and wiggle your jeans back on. he ends up helping you, patting your ass when you’re all done. you slap his chest, but you lean up and press your lips to his anyway. pulling away, you slide a hand under his sweatshirt. above, beams of sunlight break through the thick clouds, illuminating his skin. biting back a smirk, you rub a thumb over his cheek where it shines. 

“take me home,” you purr. “we’re not done yet.”

you're careening through the woods moments later.

3k event masterlist | masterlist

© to agustdiv1ne. do not copy, repost, steal, and/or translate.

[jeskoholic]

A Little Piece of You Chapter 14: An Excess of Kwangya

This is a chapter from an on-going series. If you missed out on the previous entries, you can check my masterlist.

Previous chapter: The Mending and the Melancholy

Word count: 4,515

Tags: Male OC, Sister Irene, College Friends, Slight angst

Sorry it took so long for an update. I've been busy.

Enjoy!

---

It was like a scene from a drama. The medical students eavesdropping through their building’s windows probably never saw a scene as intense and emotional like that. It was a common knowledge that breakups were not really rare for people around their age but confrontations similar to that surely were, especially when they were just having their breaks from their normal laboratory rounds. One quick slap was what ended everything as the girl finally ran off and left the guy drenched in the rain, a lopsided umbrella lay on the floor with its purpose utterly defeated. If only the young man did not pick up the umbrella upon realization and went on off ahead, the show would have continued. He would have been the seen through a lot of cameras, being remembered as the man who stood under the rain.

Yoon Jae-in ran as fast as he could away from the scene with the thoughts of the unintended commotion with Soyeon, as well as the consequences that came with it, only brought shame to his already faulty dignity. He was prepared in case something would break out for sure, but on that grave of a circumstance it cannot be helped. The rain was just another insult to the already obvious injury and all he could do was to hang his head low in the hopes that his wet hair could conceal his face from the general public. It was unfortunate that he managed to get out of a huge commotion almost at the same time as the dismissal of the other classes, in turn causing him tread through a large swath of North Line students. Perhaps a sliver of prayer would be the best to give, hoping for none of his friends to see him in that rather unusual predicament.

Fuck, I need to get out of here.

Those were perhaps the very words that served as a mantra for him while he sprinted towards the university’s main gate. With everything that happened, he could not even put his head on the breakup with Soyeon, as his concern that time was primarily to get away from his inevitable shame. He was soaked all over: clothes, hair, shoe… perhaps the only thing that was dry in him was his heart; maybe including a couple of papers that his seemingly water-resistant bag could protect. Yoon Jae-in finally reached the final stretches of stairs, eyeing the outskirts of the university’s front street filled with students heading to and fro. Like how it contributed to his physical challenge, the rain made it so that almost every cab was either occupied or eagerly waited. Even if he dreamed to board one home, it would seem to not be the most plausible option at that very moment.

It was even weirder to think about that most of the students were surprised upon seeing a student soaked with the hard rain from head to foot despite holding a folded umbrella on one hand. Clearly, something really bad happened to this one particular North Liner in that particular afternoon.

Jae-in walked a couple of metres from the front of the university just so that he could lessen the chance of bumping into someone, while still keeping the mystery of how to head home an utmost priority. At that rate, he was already too soaked to walk towards the bus terminal or even the train station, so either way he was really in such a bad luck.

BZZZT

It was so out of nowhere but it came as quick just as lightning flashed once more on the grey skies. It was fast, and yet he was sure that he felt it. Jae-in immediately moved to the left-most side of the roofed street path, steering clear of the incoming flux of students and moved to fish out his phone. Clearly, the first person that might even contact him would naturally be the person who would know about the breakup right away. He had a huge hunch that it would be Ningning, considering he could really see Soyeon contacting her first before everyone else. If that was truly the case, then she’s really quick on messaging him.

How long has it even passed since that slap; ten minutes or about half an hour already?

That is, if it was actually her that messaged him but it would turn out that it was not. In fact, for Jae-in’s situation the sender of the message was perhaps better if not the best person who could send one.

New message from: Noona Prettiest

The rain is strong so I got a shoot cancelled. Do you want me to drop by North Line so I can drive us home together?

---AN HOUR OR SO LATER, BACK AT THE APARTMENT---

Well, this is like a scene from a drama.

“Okay, now that we’re actually home and you’re all dried up,” I heard noona’s voice call from the living room as I exited the bathroom, hanging my soaked clothes as well as changing into new ones. “Can you please tell me how on earth were you so wet with rainwater when I came to your school? You did not forget your umbrella now, did you Jae-in? What would have happened to you had I not decided to fetch you, huh?”

“I’m sorry noona… I hope that I didn’t get the car seats wet. I just… something huge happened and me getting soaked was just one of the after effects of it, I guess. I really apologize… things just have been rough lately… and that is coming from someone who never really let school things a bother…”

Joohyun noona raised an eyebrow, albeit it appeared to be springing from a concerned expression rather than a pissed one.

“Ehh…? Is there something going on?”

“No it’s… I’ve actually sorted things out now, noona. You have no idea how relieved I am despite looking so cold in front of you… it looks bad but I really am happy.”

As I was busy drying my hair with the towel, I felt Joohyun-noona approach me and hold my hand with her ever soft palms. I did not see the entire ordeal as I was really busy so it came as a shock that she actually went off and did exactly just that. I don’t even know why she would do that in the first place.

“Come with me… sit on the couch and let’s talk about it,” her voice turned soft. It sounded really concerned by I got concerned with it. It felt as if it was the calm before the storm of her anger towards me.

Was that even the case?

“You’re not… mad?”

“Sit, Yoon Jae-in,” She commanded rather sternly. Of course, despite being so soft she still had that tone of authority and concern blending carefully well. I have nothing else to do but silently follow after her. Next thing I know, I sat on the couch with a towel over my head and Joohyun-noona disappeared to her room, only to appear seconds later with a blanket on her grasp.

“Here,” she said as she draped the towel over my shoulders and body. I wonder if it was her personal blanket; I assumed that it was because it had that sweet, velvety smell to it. “I know that it should have been a while back, but I had no expectations for you to show up dripping wet like that. Use my blanket. Don’t worry, it’s clean.”

She then proceeded to sit beside me and placed her right hand over my shoulder.

“I’ll be honest; I was a supposed to get angry at you when I saw you board the car. I don’t mind getting the car wet; for me that was the least of my concerns. I was really on the brink of being furious yet your face… your face when you entered the car door was different. It was quite unlike what I saw from you before, so I just resorted to rush home and keep you warm as much as I could.”

“I… I had that different look on me, noona?”

Joohyun-noona nodded.

“Your eyes looked different. You sure look sad but relieved at the same time. I don’t exactly understand why you would have that kind of look with you, but you did. It was weird. Do you mind elaborating about that?”

“Actually… I… I got slapped just now… not that long ago when we saw each other… the real reason why I was soaked when you saw me was anchored with that, noona… I have no idea how else I would have gotten home if it were not for your fetch. I got fortunate that your shoot got cancelled when it did.”

“Wait, wait, wait… did I just hear that right, Jae in?” I saw noona’s expression change. If she was not curious before, she definitely was now. Her eyes displayed nothing but pure inquiry. “Did I hear that right? You got slapped?! How… how on earth would you even get slapped? Did I just hear that wrong or were you really slapped across you face? Who would even do that to you and why would they do that?!”

I shifted a bit on my end of the couch. Things are about to come out to her now.

“Do you… do you remember that time when I was staring at Wonyoung’s letter…?”

“Of course I do… wait, did that girl do this to you!? Was Wonyoung the one who slapped you across your face?!”

“What…? No! Noona… please listen to me first… it’s…. I told you that night that I was keeping it as a reminder… I fished it out of my drawer for that very reason, all before you even asked me to tell the story about my ex-girlfriend. Today… today I felt like I just prevented a possibility of another Wonyoung situation from happening again, noona. Actually… there’s someone that confessed to me that they liked me and…”

The awkwardness of this whole thing never really sank in me until I was about to tell Joohyun-noona of everything that happened. Oh my, now there’s no real way to back out in this impending conversation.

However, on hindsight I really should have told her of the situation. She, of all people, could help me the best.

Maybe not entirely in detail, but… whatever….

“… And earlier today, I have given things a fair bit of thought and decided that… with all the signs from before, the way that this girl acted as well as the things I learned from my ex-girlfriend, Wonyoung… I figured I was not yet ready for the kind of relationship that this particular girl was aiming for. I could easily just have went with the flow and agreed to date her once and for all, but in good conscience I just could not do that. I think no human being deserves to have that.”

“So, you never really liked this girl and you finally said ‘no’ today?” Joohyun-noona asked. “Is that why she slapped you?”

I nodded.

“I figured that it was bound to happen, noona. I just hope that she would understand why I did that in the long run. At least by then, I could say that the pain across my face was worth it.”

“Why are you soaked then?”

“She… she left me under the rain...After the slap, there was a commotion and I just... I just stood there until she went off. I didn’t even realize that I was standing in the rain.”

“Does it still hurt? Can I see that?”

I was about to tell her that it was fine, honestly. Soyeon’s slap was strong to the point that I could still feel the force of her palm just as I arrived home but I could hold it in. However, before I could even protest, my step-sister already moved from her side of the couch towards my direction, placing her soft palms over the left cheek of where I was slapped previously. She brought her face dangerously close as well that I could see every small detail of her beautiful presence right before my very eyes. Her warm breathing was grazing softly against the skin of my chin.

I don’t know, but I immediately panicked on the spot. I never got this close with noona ever.

“N-noona,” I blurted out which clearly startled her. My head immediately formulated the first reasonable question it could produce at that moment. “H-how did you know that… that I got slapped right there?”

“I mean, if she was right handed, this is where her palm would land first.”

She gave my cheek a light tap and admittedly, it stung. Perhaps I was too obvious with that as Irene-noona immediately withdrew from being relatively close to me. Despite that, she still kept her hand planted on my cheek.

“It still hurts then. Let’s get that treated, Jae-in. Also, tell me what you like to eat. Even if it’s something that I can’t cook, we can just get it delivered.”

“No, that’s not necessary now, noona… I could make do of whatever you could cook there, heck I don’t even mind cooking myself; you don’t need to go out of your way and even go online just for me.”

She tapped her hand on my cheek again, inciting another painful reaction from the stinging sensation it gave.

“Yah,” she frowned and I must admit: her eyes felt like they were already talking to me. “At least let me treat you. You already got slapped. Plus, you’ve decided to do the right thing for whoever this girl was… just think of this as a form of me showing my appreciation for your decision, for your maturity… And also, there’s a huge tendency for you to get sick because of what you did so let me treat you with healthy food. That way, your body can combat the natural reactions.  I’m better off feeding you with something than take care of you because you’re sick; you little bean of a Jae-in.”

“I… okay then, noona… I’ll… I’ll let you do that.”

“Okay, it’s decided. I’ll leave you here for a bit and I’d get some stuff from the shops down below. Hopefully there’s something there that I would take a liking to. That way, we can eat right away and not even wait for the delivery to arrive. In the meantime, there’s hot water on the container. If you need something hot to drink, you can get some from there.”

Joohyun-noona stood up and brushed her shirt, but not before moving to give my head with soft series of pats. With how gentle she did it, her soft palms barely felt like it even grazed my crowning glory.

I nodded silently as she finally headed towards her room. That was, to my assumption anyway, to change into something that could combat the cold from the outside. It was no longer raining, thankfully, but that does not mean that the post-rain evening’s coolness was something to scoff at.

As I bade another soft farewell to noona while she exited through the door, I headed towards the kitchen and fished out the electric kettle just as she mentioned. At that moment, there was only a single sentence among a lot of things that solidified my train of thought for the evening:

I was so damn lucky to have a sister such as Bae Joohyun.

 Ever since she invited me to live with her, things have drastically altered my life for the better. I do not know if I could even make the decision I chose back there had I not have her advice on the back of my head. I would have definitely turned into another person for sure.

One more thing; I could easily have been ground meat the moment that she saw me soaked. Her not getting angry, among the plethora of things that seemed to align on this very day… it was just fucking amazing. There are a lot of things that happened today for sure, but this impending dinner with my ever so loving step sister felt like it was indeed a reward for what happened.

I just did it.

Things have not even sunk in me just yet… until now that I was alone with nothing else to think about.

I finally let go of Jeon Soyeon.

I did exactly what I said I would do.

Whatever comes after that; I must be brave to face the consequences. I must be able to uphold this decision as firm and as dedicated as I could.

I bet that at this point in time, something must have already happened within the messaging group. I would be really surprised if there wasn’t.

Worse case was… maybe Soyeon would have gone drinking with some other friend group of hers once again. If that was the case, then I don’t think that was still on me. That would already be on her. I did what I came for and that was to end everything once and for all. It had to be done for the greater good.

I have a feeling that this would not be the final interaction between Soyeon and me. I’m sure in the future; we’ll be able to talk again as friends. I could only hope so much, however.

The thought of the group’s reaction intrigued me beyond comprehension and I can’t keep everything to myself. With that in mind, I moved to fish out the phone placed on top of the oven toaster previously. I had a feeling that I would head to the kitchen after the shower and so I placed it there beforehand, fetching it before I went back to the dining table to enjoy the hot chocolate I made.

I connected my phone into the internet and pushed the icon of the messaging group, and that one push was all that I needed before my entire notification bar was flooded with messages from…

‘United Kwangya’…?

What even is that?

And then it hit me: it was a messaging group. In fact, it was the very same messaging group from before; the one that I had with Kyungsoo and the others, just under a different name… only now that everything was wrought in chaos. I don’t know who or what was the reason why they changed the name, but I trust that it was another product of the chaos that was happening. It might be an aftermath, it might not be, but it’s nothing short of confusing for sure.

What is going on?

---

Yoon Jae-in took a good sip from his prepared hot chocolate drink and proceeded to open the said conversation. The thought of the chaos being tied to him and Soyeon was already there and perhaps he, too, wanted a confirmation. However, his inner curiosity with regards to the previously unnamed group’s new peculiar group chat name weighed heavier, especially the perpetrator. He opened the group and almost everyone else was typing at the same exact time. Their portraits with multiple ellipses showed as he scrolled down to the most recent messages.

Kyungsoo: Hey, who the hell did that? Please just leave her be. I think there’s something going on so let’s just not barge in if Soyeon’s not interested to be added back. Stop being jack-asses.

Shinwon: Oh, something happened for sure otherwise she would not leave without even a message. I’m sure she’s told someone already, or we could just wait for Jae-in to go online and ask him.

I’m pretty sure Shinwon connected the dots already, Jae-in thought to himself. It’s not that long ago when we talked about her after all. It would take time before he would realize, though.

Kino: They could have had an argument or something. That’s just normal; it’s not like it’s something new. Let’s just shut up. It’ll pass. Who knows; maybe they’re even smashing RN and do not want to be disturbed. People do that to make up to each other right?

Kyungsoo: Hey, watch your mouth @Kino. We have other people here. Please don’t give them the wrong idea about us.

Yeri: I’m sorry. I think Soyeon left because I just got added: (. Maybe she got uncomfy that I got added here.

Kyungsoo: @Yeri, don’t worry about that. I’m sure it has nothing to do with you.

Wait, since when was Yeri added to the chat?

Jae-in, with curiosity already getting the better of him, moved to scroll past the arguing bunch and actually give context to what was going on. It was evident from the talk that Soyeon has left the group, somehow Yeri got added into the mix and then the group chat’s name got changed. His scrolling fortunately yielded answers to his queries, and things seemed to have become worse the more that he continued to read on upwards.

About an hour after the pair of them argued, the first thing that notified the group was Soyeon leaving without any response or message whatsoever. He also saw that Hongseok and Kino repeatedly attempted to add her back towards the group only for her to do the same thing of leaving without a message. It was quite obvious; she did not want to be in the same chat with Yoon Jae-in.

Then of course, Jae-in moved to open her private messages to him via the chat tab, hoping to confirm what he already had in his mind.

This person is unavailable.

Of course, it was quite the expected reaction. At that rate, had Soyeon not block him right away it would have been more surprising. That kind of development never really surprised Jae-in by any means. There was a part of him that was appreciative of the absence of message; surely, it was quite expected for her to throw in some words before blocking him for good. It was perhaps for the better that she did that.

Jae-in minimized the header for Soyeon’s portrait and moved to scan the unopened messages. Aside from the chaos of the group chat, United Kwangya, Doh Kyungsoo had a good amount of private messages directed to him. The first one that was on the face of it; the one message that Jae-in need not to even open to know what he said contained the following:

Kyungsoo: I don’t want to interfere but things are getting out of hand. Soyeon’s not replying to me, or to other members for that matter. Maybe you and her just…

The rest of the message was cut. Jae-in wanted to open the chat and message Kyungsoo in explanation of everything. He was, after all, the person who introduced Soyeon to him so if there was anyone who deserved an explanation first-hand, it would be him. However, just the tone of that heading chat already intimidated him. He somehow heard the voice of a very disappointed Kyungsoo messaging him that he could not bring himself to open the messages and reply to what followed.

Surprisingly, it was not Kyungsoo’s tab that was on the very top. Ning Yi Zhuo’s portrait flashed, signalling a recent message that she brought to him privately. Despite the initial decision to draw the attention away from the chaos, Jae-in moved and opened her chat tab hoping to converse with her.

Ningning: Jae-in, I know what happened with you and Soyeon and I’m sorry if it was not your intention to let me know.

Ningning: Soyeon came knocking at the front door of my dorm, all wet from the rain and asking if she could stay for a while. She unintentionally blurted out everything while she was changing clothes, so here we are. I decided to take her in because it’s too stupid to bring her out in the rain at this time.

Ningning: Please don’t think that I’m messaging you to guilt-trip you or anything. Soyeon might be my friend, but you are as well. I don’t think that I’m on the position to tell you what my side of the equation is without placing more fuel to the already bad looking fire. I just wanted you to know where she is because I figured you’re worried.

Ningning: She told me repeatedly that she would block you the first chance she gets. If you can’t message her now, it means that she already did it. Don’t worry; I’ll take care of her while she’s still on a huge emotional mess. That’s all I can assure you of her for now.

Ningning: Please, I don’t want to talk to the others because they might ask her of me. Can you be the one to tell them to not add her back for the time-being? Doing that would not help her to any degree while the wound is still fresh.

Jae-in’s heart leapt out of his chest the moment that he read Ningning’s soft message. A huge thorn just got shot out of his chest knowing Soyeon was safe with Ningning and not on some bar whatsoever. For now, he could relax and lull in his mind while the situation cools itself down.

Grateful, he moved to open the replier and provide a simple appreciation message for Ningning’s actions.

Jae-in: Hey, you have no idea how relieved I am to know that she’s with you. Take care of her while she’s there, okay? Thank you so much, Ning. You’re such a huge help.

Surprisingly, she replied almost immediately after she saw the message.

Ningning: We’re cool. Give her space for a bit and maybe you two can talk in the future. Take care, Yoon Jae-in.

Whether he would want to reply more to that or not was already behind him. The thought of Soyeon being in a safe place was already a reward in itself for Yoon Jae-in; he was so relaxed that he opened the chat tab subconsciously, with the conversation wildly being tossed around by Hongseok, Kino, and Kyungsoo. Everything was so out of context but he did not care; savouring on the recent topic of Kino’s screen being cracked after the hand phone slipped off from his grasp.

A soft squeak of the apartment door finally signalled his step-sister’s return. Joohyun showed up holding two paper bags that stood high up towards her shoulders, giving a wide smile towards Jae-in as she finally entered the apartment after closing the door behind her.

“Wait, let me help you there noona,” Jae-in said as he enthusiastically left the phone and went towards Joohyun’s direction.

And just like that, Jae-in left the messaging group generating disorder within its own members; and as Jae-in helped Irene set the respective food on the table, ‘United Kwangya’ repeatedly teased Kino for sending a screenshot. He figured that it was a good proof of showing everyone else in the chat that his phone’s screen really cracked, and he was not even able to realize what was wrong with that until Jae-in eventually fished his phone back in preparation for the upcoming dinner.

[cinnamongorll]

a fragile line - chapter 4

read on ao3! (111k words) | previous chapter | next chapter | masterlist

Pairing: Joel Miller x Female OC

Tags: extreme slow burn, age gap, older man/younger woman, protective joel, jealous joel, hurt/comfort, pov third person, mutual pining, angst, sexual tension, friends to lovers, canon-typical violence, feral joel, parental abuse.

Fic synopsis: three years ago, Juliet escaped her father's religious survivor camp, ending up in the Boston QZ. Juliet created a life for herself in Boston, desperate to forget the trauma of her upbringing. One day, Juliet arrives home to find a mysterious letter which forces her to return to her home town. Juliet can't travel the harsh post-apocalyptic landscape alone, so she enlists the help of the grumpy and, at times, frightening man she works alongside: Joel Miller.

Word count: 2k

Chapter 4: 'Something In The Way'

They moved like shadows, lurking in the gaps between the enforcers’ spotlights. 

The roads were busy, armed guards and trucks patrolled the city with torches panned on every dark corner. The sound of their engines drowned out the anxious thoughts floating through Juliet’s mind. All she could focus on was the man in front of her, Juliet matched Joel’s every step to keep up with his impossible stride. The rain had picked up, puddles splashed against her already damp jeans. 

Joel stopped without warning. Juliet struggled to see through the pouring rain but watched with squinted eyes as Joel’s blurry figure used his shoulder to break open the door of the crumbling building they stood in front of. Three hits and they were in. 

Downstairs was the entrance to a series of abandoned underground tunnels, water dripped from every corner and various weeds had sprouted between rotting bricks. Joel was moving again, the sound of his boots echoed off the walls. Juliet jogged to catch up, rounding a corner and - 

“Shit” she gasped, her feet stumbled to an abrupt stop. Her hands covered her mouth, her eyes wide. Fungus painted the wall in front of her in shades of red, green and brown, surrounding the body suspended in the centre. ‘Body’ wasn’t the right word, it didn’t even look human. The dampness had done a number on it, the skin rotted and swollen. 

“This one’s done,” Joel observed in a monotone voice, he had stopped about a foot away from her. 

Juliet dropped her hands, embarrassment flooded her cheeks. 

“I know,” she replied, releasing a shaky breath. “I just haven’t seen one in a while.”

Joel raised an eyebrow, irritation evident on his face. The rain had soaked his hair, his fingers slicking it back. The dark blue of his shirt was almost black and it clung to parts of his chest. He stood there, staring down at her with ire poured over his features, dripping off him like rain. Juliet was struck by a sudden moment of clarity, a stark realisation that Joel was dangerous. Every inch of him radiated hostility. The set of his broad shoulders, the hard clench of his jaw, the look in his eyes, all screamed don’t fuck with me.  

Working alongside him for years, Juliet knew of him, knew that he was a smuggler, a drug dealer. She knew, at least subconsciously, what he was capable of. To experience this side of him up close, his ability to come across infected without so much as flinching, was an entirely different story. Joel had started to move again, walking the dark trail through the damp tunnel. Juliet followed close behind, her heart was beating so violently against her chest she could feel it echo in the tight space around them. 

Just this morning, they were working the same shift, shovelling ash and piling bodies. Now, she had placed her life in Joel’s hands, forced upon him the responsibility of getting her out alive. Juliet wasn’t used to delegating her safety, protecting herself had been her number one priority since she had set off alone, reclaiming her life. She clenched her fists, her fingernails dug into the smooth skin of her palms.

It was obvious to her that, on some level, she trusted Joel. They had never shared a real conversation in all the time they had known each other, but Juliet had watched him, mimicking his actions on shift, working in harmony. She knew his body language, what it meant when he raised his eyebrows, when his shoulders tightened, when he shifted his jaw. Juliet knew Joel was dangerous but she wasn’t frightened. He would get her out of the QZ and then she would survive, like she always did. 

Juliet was pulled from her thoughts when Joel stopped walking and signalled towards a rusted ladder which hung from the side of the tunnel wall. Joel started to climb and released a harsh grunt when he reached the top and began to push against the mud and concrete sealing them in. The seal broke and he placed two hands on it, holding the slab open, the muscles in his arms strained against his damp shirt. His stare cut towards Juliet and he lifted his chin, indicating that she should climb up. Juliet gripped her hands on the rusted metal, praying it didn’t snap under both their weight as she squeezed past Joel. She held her breath as the side of her body brushed against his. The rough breath he released afterwards told her that he had done the same.  

Once Juliet was standing in the open air, Joel climbed out behind her, wiping the mud that caked his hands onto his jeans. The rain was still pouring down, even heavier now. The droplets drifted across Joel’s face and trailed down his neck. 

“Where do we go now -” Juliet began but was quickly cut off when a hand tugged her by the arm of her jacket. Joel dragged her to the shelter of a rusted yellow van which sat at an odd angle, as though it might tip any second. Juliet reached up, brushing the rain from her eyes and the soaked hair that had escaped her braid. She blinked a few times and opened her eyes to find Joel standing in front of her, his finger glued to his lips. 

“We’re goin’ to move round the left edge of the buffer zone,” Joel informed her, his voice quiet. He stood so close to Juliet, she could feel his hot breath scalding her cheek. Juliet glanced at his other hand, still wrapped around the wet material of her jacket. Joel followed her gaze, his hand fell immediately. 

“You move when I move,” he continued. “No exceptions.”

“Got it,” Juliet confirmed.

Joel shook his head, bitterness radiating from his posture. Then he turned, leading the way. 

.................................

Lightning flashed as they silently crawled through large metal cylinders and raced behind abandoned cars. Juliet was panting, rain bled into her open mouth, choking her as she imitated Joel’s movements. They were nearly there, almost at the surrounding metal fence, only a few more steps - 

“Don’t move!” a harsh voice echoed through the thunder. 

Fuck. An enforcer.

“I said don’t fucking move,” he ordered. Joel stopped so suddenly Juliet almost ran into him.

He turned, locking eyes with Juliet as a silent conversation passed between them: Stay still and don’t say a word.  

“We don’t want any trouble,” Joel called, raising his hands in a defensive stance. Juliet did the same, her fingers trembling. 

“Yeah?” the soldier shouted back. “If that were true, you wouldn’t be out here.” 

Juliet held still as the soldier came into view. He was young, around Juliet’s age or younger perhaps. He was dressed entirely in black, the colour a stark contrast to his pale skin. A shotgun hung from the strap around his neck, his hands gripped it tight, his knuckles white. Below the gun was a torch projecting a white light on Joel and Juliet’s frozen forms. 

Joel was eerily quiet, his hands still raised in front of him, palms facing outward. Juliet stole a glance towards him and shock shot through her in a sharp bolt. His face was a barricaded door, every shutter closed with no entrance visible. Joel’s expression was paralyzed, his eyes entirely vacated. Whatever he saw in the young soldier had immobilised him, physically and mentally. 

“On your knees,” the soldier commanded, his voice cracking on the last word. Juliet narrowed her eyes, Joel was entirely checked out. He was seized by some kind of ghost, his stare anchored on the enforcer.  

The rain pounded down around them, the speed of it echoing the pace of Juliet’s thoughts as they circled her mind. The soldier stared at her, the grip on his gun getting tighter. She had seconds to decide what to do. It wasn’t supposed to be like this, Joel was supposed to get her out of here. There was no time. 

“Fuck this,” she muttered, then dropped her hands. In one smooth, practised motion, Juliet reached into her back pocket and pulled out her gun, popping off the safety. The sharp click seemed to wake Joel from whatever trance he was locked in.

 “Juliet -” he started to shout. 

Two shots rang out in the night air. 

Joel swore and rushed towards the soldier, his arms out to grab the gun off of him but it was a wasted effort. The soldier was already dropping to the ground, his body a dead weight. 

A small spot of red marked his forehead, no bigger than a coin. 

Joel crouched next to him, his thumb searching for a pulse. Another wasted effort; he was very much dead. 

Joel turned towards Juliet, shock painted his face when he saw her still standing, her eyes trained on the soldier. No remorse was found in her features, only a cold numbness. 

Joel stood and walked towards Juliet, reaching out his hand to carefully take the gun from her. Juliet let him pry the weapon from between her trembling fingers. 

“You hurt?” he demanded, breathing heavy, acutely aware that two bullets were shot, and only one ended up in the soldier. 

“I’m fine,” Juliet murmured.

Joel was unconvinced, his eyes scanned her body, searching for any patches of red on her damp clothing. The light from the soldier’s torch still illuminated her form. 

“Joel seriously, I’m fine. We need to -” 

“Your shoulder, he got your shoulder,” Joel announced, the words rushing out in a single breath. His hand hovered over the torn fabric, blood flowed from the wound, blending with the rain soaking her jacket. He pocketed her gun and used both hands to push down on the bullet hole. Juliet released a sharp gasp.  

“Shit,” he cursed, and looked behind him. “Someone might’ve heard the shots, we have to go now.” 

Juliet nodded, dizziness crashed over her like a wave. The pain in her shoulder was minimal, Juliet knew this was not a good sign, that shock was diluting her pain response. 

“I’m good. Let’s… let’s get out of here,” she muttered, her speech slurring slightly.

Joel’s stare was murderous. His jaw hardened before he swallowed and looked away. 

“You need to put pressure on it,” he said, dropping his hands before he pulled her right hand up to cover the wound. “Push down, hard,” he ordered, and Juliet obeyed immediately, suddenly too tired to argue.  

When Joel was satisfied with Juliet’s response, he pulled his backpack off, stuffing her gun in it, then swung it back over his shoulder. 

Juliet couldn’t find the energy to care that he had taken her gun, her vision blurred slightly at the edges. 

He gave Juliet one more brutal glare before stepping in front of her and heading for the fence around the corner. Juliet looked behind her, she could see spotlights in the distance. She pressed her hand harder over the wound and followed Joel, her steps stumbling a little. 

They reached the fence minutes later. A hole had been savagely carved out of the tight metal wire, which Joel now held open for Juliet to pass through. 

Juliet ducked her head and squeezed past. She knew that this moment should symbolise a sense of freedom, an escape from the frustratingly rigid rules of the QZ. But swinging her body through that fence, tired and injured, Juliet felt more trapped than ever. Her life no longer belonged to her. She would fight to stay alive to get to Ethan, to save him from her father's clutches. 

Juliet's survival was now a currency; her life a means to an end. 

[thethreeeyed-raven]

a love which cannot be

navigation | warnings : slight suggestiveness, time skips, jealous bran, father being arsehole, robb seems like an ass, cringey description of bran lmao, i just fucking love brans nose oml, lmk if there’s more | a/n : sorry if you guys don’t like it i just get ideas all of the time lmao, will be writing a part two :) | tags : @knight-of-flowerss | bran stark playlist

The journey to Winterfell was long and excruciating. The land you came from was nothing like Winterfell. Yours was filled with exotic animals, it rained nearly almost everyday, and the heat was so hot you could melt.

Maybe Winterfell would be a nice change, perhaps this Robb Stark man would be a good husband to you, and not beat you or be disloyal as you knew some women's husbands to be.

Your father wanted you to marry the heir to Winterfell, thinking it would strengthen your connections with the Starks.

Robb was seven years older than you. You only being 14 and him 21.

"Father, are we nearly there yet?" You asked nervously. In truth, you did not want to marry this Robb Stark, you wanted to marry someone of your own age, someone of your own choosing.

"Yes, nearly. Just another day." Your father answered in a coarse voice.

You had finally arrived in Winterfell. The Starks were all lined up. There was one that stood out from them all. You assumed he was the bastard, Jon Snow. He looked nothing like Lady Stark. He had dark brown curls, almost black and his eyes were the exact same too. He looked like he tried hard to earn a place beside his half-siblings.

Your father and Ned Stark gave a curt nod to each other, they weren't as close as Ned and King Robert.

"Lord Y/L/N." Ned started, your father replying with "Lord Stark."

As they conversated, you eyed the Stark children. The one you were betrothed to, Robb Stark, had brown curly hair and tried to look like he had authority. Then there was Sansa, with fiery red hair, icy blue eyes and a kind smile graced her soft pink lips. There was Arya, her hair was wild and her clothes were all over the place. Rickon was the youngest, with golden hair and eyes that twinned Sansa's. Lastly, your eyes travelled to...wait...that was Bran Stark?!

Seven hells, he's gorgeous...

His hair was a fair shade of brown, adorned with light curls. His eyes were dark chocolate, you could stare into forever, perhaps you could find the universe in them if you gazed long enough. His lips were a cherry red, and his cheeks sprinkled with light freckles.

Oh gods, his nose is so big...

"Y/n." Your father had been calling your name for the past five minutes. "Come and say hello."

Bran had noticed your intense gaping at him, so he gave you a good observation too. A light blush appeared across his cheeks when he realised everyone had caught you both, so he ducked his head down, but his eyes never left your figure.

The Starks of Winterfell held a feast for you and your families arrival.

The air in the room was getting too stuffy, so you left your seat next to your mother and went outside.

You walked farther away and found yourself in the training grounds, finding Jon teaching Bran a few things about swords.

"You have to hold it like this with a tight grip but not too tight-"

"Why aren't you inside with everyone else?"

They both shot round not expecting you to be there.

Bran gulped, looking at Jon, then diverting his eyes to the ground.

"Why aren't you mi'lady/mi'lord?" Jon knew Bran wouldn't speak to you until after he got over the shock of your existence.

"I don't like it in there." It felt a little bit difficult trying to make conversation with them as they were awkward people. "Also it's a little bit boring, sick of hearing about marriages."

Bran let out a little huff of amusement, he had grown jealous over Robb.

You had been staying in Winterfell and your relationship with the Stark children had grown.

You and Robb were still very distant with each other, both of you always doing your own thing. You were fine with it, as you were closer to the other other Stark boys, especially one in particular.

"Bran, stop."

Both of you were sat under a tree, eating fruit you had both picked. He had forbidden himself from climbing ever since he fell out of that tower and fell into a coma for a few months.

"I'm not doing anything."

"You're trying to hold my hand." You could feel his little finger brushing against your own on top of the fur you were sat on.

You watched as he jutted his bottom lip out of annoyance, he really, really wanted to hold your hand but didn't know how to ask.

Sighing, you took his hand into yours, relishing in the warmth it provided you.

Bran rested his head against your shoulder, his breath tickling your ear. "I wish I could hold your hand all the time."

It was like time stopped. Everything was perfect, you and bran together, but then you had realised that you hadn't been trying to stop your betrothal to Robb at all, you had Bran right beside you and you weren't snatching him up like you could've done.

"I'm going to meet you in your room tonight."

"Bran, Bran open the door." It was the middle of the night, and you kept your word, making your way to his room once you knew everyone was asleep.

You heard the handle rattle and the door opened to reveal a very tired Bran who was barely awake.

"Y/n?" He was very much awake now once he realised you were still in your night clothes. "Come on it must be freezing out there." Bran grabbed your wrist and dragged you inside, some of the candles and the fire was still lit. Was he waiting for you?

"I didn't think you'd actually come, you did take a long time." He averted his eyes, too overwhelmed to look into yours.

"I had to wait 'till midnight, my parents notice everything." You licked your lips before continuing. "My mother specially, she has noticed that we have been spending lots of time together."

Gods, please say our time doesn't have to end, Bran thought.

"My mother will mention it to my father." You took his hands in yours, noticing how clammy they were. "I shall not be separated from you, I am yours and you are mine."

"...I am yours?"

"And you are mine my love, no matter who I marry, whether it is a Dornish man, or a Northern man, you will always be the one to hold my heart."

"You will always hold my heart, no one can ever compare to you."

None of you could hold back anymore. You smashed your lips together, letting your hands roam wherever they wanted.

You opened your mouth and his tongue slid in. His hands caressed your face as yours rested on his chest.

"I don't want to go too far." Bran said, his eyes glazed like he just drunk two cups of wine.

"We won't."

In the morning before everyone woke, you snuck away, leaving Bran to sleep soundly for a few more hours, not noticing the bruise forming on your neck.

Your maids were currently dressing you, choosing what shoes you should wear, how to have your hair styled etc when your mother came in.

"Ah, there you are, your father requests your presence." She said as she crossed her hands in front of her.

"What does he want to talk with me about?" You said, turning towards her once the maids had finished.

"He-what's that?" Your mother pointed to a spot on your neck

What?

You looked down to where she was pointing, just to see a red bruise which had formed. The colour in your face drained.

"Mother-" She took you by the arm. "Come with me now, your father will want to know who did this.

Your father was extremely angry when your mother had taken you to him. He was so angry in fact, that he startled the Starks that were enjoying their peaceful morning with their delicious breakfast.

Ned quickly stood, trying to calm your father.

"My lord, I assure you we will find out which one of our children did this." His wife, Lady Catelyn tried to reassure him.

"You best do, and whoever it is, see they are punished." Your father gave a disgusted look to the Stark children and stormed out of the hall, leaving you and your mother there.

"Come, child." Your mother beckoned you away.

You gave one last look towards the Starks, holding eye contact with Bran. You mouthed 'I'm sorry' as you were gently pushed through the doors.

Catelyn paced back and forth as she looked at her children, Ned stood in the corner letting his wife do the talking.

It couldn't have been Sansa and Arya, they were with me last night, She thought.

"If I will, Mother, I was with Father last night." Robb decided to break the awkward silence. "And Jon was in the blacksmith's."

Catelyn finally stopped her pacing and turned to look at Bran who kept avoiding everyone's eyes and biting his nails.

Ned lifted himself from the wall and stood next to Catelyn. "Son,"

Bran squeezed his eyes shut feeling the pressure of everyone's gaze. "We didn't do anything!"

Ned knelt to his son's height and placed his hands on his shoulder. "Son, what happened? Tell the truth and tell it true."

Bran sighed, defeated. "All we did was kiss."

"Bran, do you realise what you've done? This could greatly affect Y/n's betrothal to Robb!" Catelyn was always the more harsher parent when it came to disciplining her children.

"Good! I hope it does!" Bran yelled back. In other instances, Bran would never talk back to his mother.

Before she could respond, a knight came through the door. "The Lord Y/L/N requests your presence."

Ned sighed and turned back to Bran. "You're a good lad Bran, we just have to hope no harsh punishment will be carried out for this."

Your father had been informed of the situation, and yet he was still infuriated.

"We are never coming back to this place again, you should teach your son some respect." That was the last thing your father said to Eddard Stark.

And it would be years before you saw Brandon Stark again.

[fluidjj]

🩸𝓣𝓮𝓪𝓻 𝓨𝓸𝓾 𝓐𝓹𝓪𝓻𝓽🩸

🩸𝓣𝓮𝓪𝓻 𝓨𝓸𝓾 𝓐𝓹𝓪𝓻𝓽🩸

Female Bottom Reader x Vampire Alex 🖤𝓐𝓵𝓮𝔁𝓪𝓷𝓭𝓮𝓻 𝓠𝓾𝓲𝓷𝓷🖤

Synopsis: In your Victorian town, you’ve managed to catch the eye of a mysterious stranger. No one knows of his origins and before the night is through he uses his charms to get you in his home and in his bed where you discover his true intentions.

Kinks: Biting, blood, pain, loss of female virginity, age gap, cunnilingus, multiple orgasms, belly bulge, cervix fucking, cervix play, concentration on female pleasure, size difference, fingering, scientific words and dirty words to refer to certain body parts, inhumanely long tongue, saliva/drool, hickies/bruising, missionary, overstimulation, crying, p in v, scratching, big dick lol, no condom, foreskin, creampie.

Warning: Kidnapping-ish. Period Piece somewhat with inaccuracies.

a/n: First official post. I’m known to go on tangents in my writing, I tried not to this time around but I think I did lol. I’ll try to write something short form next post! I’d love to hear your thoughts and opinions. This is a repost as I'm trying out formats and whatnot.

Word count: 8.8k

MDNI

The town had always been overrun with gloomy and strange individuals. People came and went, few stayed behind in the struggling town, the lack of business and abundance of rain drove many away. However, it was the only life you knew. You found comfort in the night sky, twinkling with stars that were invisible in the city. The pitch black of the surrounding woods never scared you, not even with the folklore of immortal creatures with pale skin and grotesque features associated with it. If such powerful beings existed, what stopped them from picking off the town one by one?

You were used to tourists coming in through the bar as if it had a revolving door, they came and went, never staying long. The connecting inn had more than enough rooms, but all were collecting dust. The folklore that you grew up with, a ploy to get children into bed on time, were believed by the older folk of your town. They only planted the seed in poor tourists’ heads, scaring them to the point of them leaving as quickly as they’d come. You’d seen it all, grown men becoming pale in the face and the dramatics of many traveling women.

One stranger didn’t fall for the antics of a regular, quietly settled in the corner of the bar with an untouched wine in front of him. He was handsome, holding the beauty of the statues that were placed throughout the town square. His features were just as angular, his pale skin smooth and without a blemish. If you hadn’t known any better you would have thought he was a statue with how still he sat. Not a breath expanded his lungs, nor a swallow bobbed his Adam's apple. His blue eyes were set dead ahead, his full lips pressed into a thin line showcasing his vow to silence. Even when you came to his table to check up on him he didn’t blink from the wind your dress created.

The man’s eyes snapped over to your figure, mostly hidden by the apron and thick skirts of your dress. The view that was granted to him was nothing short of mouthwatering. Your corset held up your breasts, the skin of your chest and neck smooth and glowing beneath the dim lighting. Your chest rose and fell with each of your measured breaths, waiting to hear his request. Something about the intensity of his eyes made you swallow nervously, hands tightly gripping the pen and pad in your hands.

“I’m fine, thank you.” He spoke with an accent, one you’d never heard before but it sounded pleasant to your ears. His voice was deep, rattling your bones as if he were speaking into your skin. Goosebumps blossomed along your bare arms and chest, the man’s gaze never lifting from your neck or chest. Even with his words saying one thing, his eyes meant another.

You nodded wordlessly, and stood in place for an extra few seconds. The way his attention seemed to be glued to your body was unlike anything you had ever experienced. You were an unmarried young woman, it was expected that men would want to court you, but none in your town ever asked. The most you received were flowers from a friend in childhood, but in your adulthood many had moved on and away from your town. You hadn’t even thought to form words before your feet led you away, your brain not yet catching up to the action. You could still feel his stare on your back as you retreated and it took everything in you to not ask what he wanted.

🩸🩸🩸

By the time your shift was ending the bar had emptied, your boss leaving you to lock up on your own. It wouldn’t have been the first time and likely not the last. When everything was cleaned up to the standards of your boss, you gathered your things to start the trek home. You knew your town well, knew there were no dangers waiting for you in the dark. You pulled on your overcoat to protect you from the harsh chill of the night, stepping out onto the streets and pulling the door closed behind you. By now the street lamps were lit, illuminating either side of the street in a warm glow. Not a soul was in sight, the other businesses on the main street having closed hours before, leaving just you and the moon.

Crows cawed in the distance, perched on the branches of dead trees. Your heels clicked softly on the stone walkway as you walked in the direction of your home, the moon facing your back. You walked straight towards the darkness, a path you took daily for most of your life. The longer you walked, the colder you felt as if your coat consisted of holes allowing the breeze in. Shivers racked your body, your arms winding around yourself to keep in some warmth. The crows grew louder, their raucous noises melting together, footsteps behind you going unnoticed.

A gasp escaped your lips, a freezing feeling encompassing your wrist and spreading throughout your arm. Turning quickly, you recognized the man, it was hard not to with his striking blue eyes and pale skin. Again you couldn’t find the words, tongue darting out to lick over your bottom lip nervously. His left hand rested over the sleeve of your coat but goosebumps overtook you from the chill that climbed up to your shoulder and down to your fingertips. It felt like you’d plunged your arm in a bucket of ice. Your chest rose and fell quickly as you began to panic, the cold was numbing and suffocating, making it hard to breathe.

“Shh.” A grin spread across his lips as he watched your mouth move, still trying to form words. His right hand grabbed your other arm, turning you completely to face him. The same cold feeling began to spread through your right arm now, just the same. It was him that was doing it, keeping you frozen in place like prey. “You’ve managed to catch my attention these past few nights. I find it hard to let you go.” 

The sound of his voice was warming, oddly comforting even with your predicament. You clung to every word he said, holding eye contact as you waited for what else he’d say. You needed to hear what he had to say, just how you caught this beautiful man’s attention. Had you done something different? Spoken to him in a certain way? Looked at him differently than the other customers. You may have looked at him with a bit of admiration, curiosity of where he came from but nothing so telling.

“Return home with me.” The man wasn’t asking, his left hand coming up from your forearm to allow his fingers to brush against your prominent collarbones. His touch was just as cold as the temporary paralysis but it was gentle, calming you down and evening out your breaths.

“Who are you?” You found your voice but it didn’t exactly sound like yourself. You sounded drowsy, as if put in a trance. Something about this man was comforting, his hold, his eyes on you, the words he spoke.

“You’ll know soon enough. Come home with me, my love.” He insisted, his fingers curling around the base of your neck, holding you tenderly as if you’d known each other for centuries. You’d never met this man in your life before he arrived and you found your eyes fluttering closed at the hand of a stranger.

“I can’t do something like that.” Your eyes snapped open, your brain trying to pull you from the trance, but your arms still wouldn’t move. You tried to move, to get some space and air, but your feet seemed locked in place.

“Of course you can, you belong with me. Not here. I can take care of you.” He pulled on your neck, gaining your attention and eye contact. “Let me take care of you.” He purred, leaning in and brushing his nose against yours. Everything about him was freezing cold but it left you alight, excitement running through your veins. He was very quickly pulling you back under, pulling you deeper under his influence.

“With you..?” Your lips moved with no connection to your brain, his woodsy scent overtaking your senses. The idea of your life was left behind, to go somewhere where work wasn’t a problem, to be under the care and attention of a good looking man. Everything was saying yes, your brain, your body, your lips.

“Smart girl.” He hummed, leaning in to let his lips brush yours. They were so soft, so gentle just like his words. Your eyes slipped closed again, the paralyzation taking over your body completely. Just when your body gave out, his arms wound around you, catching you as you fell into a dreamless sleep.

🩸🩸🩸

Coming to, you felt the softness of sheets beneath your body. A duvet was tucked comfortably beneath your chin, warming the chill that had previously settled in your limbs. It took a moment to fully wake, your fingers flexing to test its dexterity. You could still feel the slight rigidity in your joints like you’d been frostbitten after standing in the cold.

Slowly you sat up, a gentle headache throbbing through your skull. The room you were in was lavish, the sheets beneath you satin, and the wallpaper a deep red damask. The four poster you were in held a red silk canopy that partially covered your side view of the room. Above you was a high hanging chandelier, candles resting at every point, the fire smothered out and keeping the room dark.

You prepared to pull the duvet from your body, curious as to where you were and how exactly you got here. You weren’t as worried as you should’ve been and it felt like something about this room was familiar. 

“You’re awake.” Your heart leapt in your throat at the sound of a voice coming from the corner of the room. You hadn’t even noticed a shadow if there had been one to begin with. The mysterious man stepped out from the shadows, settled next to the mahogany armoire. He moved to stand where you could properly see him, leaning against the frame of the bed. The light of the moon illuminated the side of his face, making his blue eyes glow and his skin resemble ivory.

“Who are you?” For once you were able to speak with ease and a clear head. Whatever the influence this man had didn’t affect you. You moved to stand, cheeks flushing as you became aware of your state of undress. You reached to cover yourself back up, corset hidden between the duvet. You cleared your throat, trying not to shy away from his intense gaze.

“Alexander, but you may call me whatever you please.” You didn’t miss the way his eyes raked over your form as if seeing through the thick material. “I hope you don’t mind my undressing you.” He gestured behind him, where your dress was neatly draped over the back of an armchair. “Guests of mine deserve comfort.”

You should have had a problem with it, but you didn’t. You, an unmarried women, having the attention of…a man you didn’t know the marital status of. You spoke your name, a shy whisper, that made the corner of his lips quirk up in a smirk like he knew something you didn’t.

“Beautiful.” Alex hummed softly, coming around the side of the bed, he pulled back the canopy, leaning down towards your figure. Your heart hammered in your chest at the close proximity, memories of what felt like just a few minutes ago flashing in your head. He’d been holding you, his body pressed close to yours just like this, his cologne filling your head.

“Beautiful…” You repeated after him, letting him lean in close until your lips brushed again. Your breaths came out shorter, anticipating what, you weren’t sure. He had some kind of hold over you, never had you once been attracted to a man in such a way. One never effortlessly got so close to you either, touching you gently and eyeing you with the hunger of a starving man.

His lips brushed yours, gentle and barely there. Before you could lean in more and connect your lips more firmly, he was withdrawing. A soft whine of disappointment came from your throat, a pout settling on your lips.

“None of that, my love. Let me show you around.”  Alex’s hand dropped down, grabbing onto your hand to pull you from the comforts of the bed. This time you thought very little of your corset being exposed, allowing Alex to pull you towards your waiting dress. “Come.” Upon closer inspection it wasn’t the dress you’d come in, but instead a burgundy one that swept the floor. Black lace trimming lined the short sleeves, the deep plunge of the neckline and the bottom of the skirt.

Alex held the dress open in front of you, gingerly guiding you to step into it. He was gentle, each motion well thought out as he pulled the dress up your legs and over your hips. You placed your arms through the puffed sleeves. His hand never left the collar of the dress as he came up behind you, carefully securing the bodice of the dress. It fit like a glove, like something you’d worn before. It hugged each curve, lying perfectly against your fame. “How do you know my size?” “A guess.” He hummed from behind you, smoothing out any wrinkles and making sure everything laid perfectly against you. He leaned down, his lips brushing the exposed skin of your shoulder. He whispered compliments against your skin, his nose brushing against the junction of your neck and shoulder. 

Being showered in compliments made your skin warm, a flush returning to your cheeks as he paid you attention. His hands cemented on your waist, holding you still and firm. You could feel his soft breaths as he inhaled your scent, his nose coming to rest beneath the hinge of your jaw. He exhaled, his lips pressed against your jugular vein. Your eyes slipped closed, finding comfort in his grasp, the gentle touches and the sweet words.

Moments passed and neither of you spoke, his lips pursed against your vein, little kisses being left behind. A shudder ran up your spine, having never been touched before. Such gentle kisses left a good impression. 

           “You smell divine, my love.” Alex’s voice reverberated against the warmth of your skin, his hands stroking along the sides of your bodice. You could almost feel each touch through your clothes, the cold and gentleness of his large hands. 

He inhaled softly against your neck, taking in the sweet scent of your skin. His hands stopped just beneath the cups of your bodice, wrapping around your rib cage. He was a large man, easily dwarfing your frame. He sighed softly, tutting under his breath as if admonishing himself. 

“Come.” He reminded you, pulling back regretfully. He took your hand in his, his skin freezing to the touch. It felt like the coldness was affecting your own hand, the two of you sharing his cold temperature. 

🩸🩸🩸

The castle was large, Victorian style with heavy red curtains drawn open to let in the moonlight. High hanging chandeliers held lit candles, keeping the corridors illuminated. It was a place you never thought you’d be in. Stained glass windows, mahogany wood and stairways, carpet runners leading the way deeper into the castle. It was clear the man you were with came from money. Each room had multiple chandeliers, priceless works of art between statues and paintings. 

Although it was meticulously decorated, something about it was cold and lonely. Not a speck of dust floated in front of your face, or rested on any surface. It was like those who worked within the castle knew you were there, keeping out of your line of sight. It had to be a lonely life, all this castle and no one to share it with. Alex didn’t seem worried in the slightest, showing you around his large home with pride.

The garden was expansive with tall hedges and red roses, the fragrance unlike anything you’d smelled before. He had delicately picked a rose, his fingers naturally falling in the gaps between the thorns. You weren’t so lucky, your finger pricking against the sharp thorn.

Alex’s eyes were on you, intense and wanting before you could even let out a gasp of pain. Instinctively you withdrew from the rose as it was still in his grasp, wanting to soothe the prick with your mouth.

A gentle rumbling started in Alex’s chest, his fingers wrapping around your wrist to stop it in motion. Your eyes met his, your heart beating heavy in your chest as he brought your finger to his lips. A bead of crimson blood had broken through the skin, inches away from his pink lips.

You were breathless, watching with excitement shining in your eyes as your finger effortlessly slipped past his plush lips. The suction was divine as he drew out the blood from the small prick, his warm tongue rubbing up against the skin, his spit coating the tip of your finger.

Goosebumps rose on your skin, your lids closing partially as you thought of his lips sucking on other parts of you. The attraction seemed to intensify, his gaze holding yours. You felt like you couldn’t pull your eyes away from his, feeling the phantom ghosting of his lips along your neck. You blinked slowly, that familiar haze taking over your brain again.

The suction on your finger increased like he was searching for more, his tongue sweeping over your fingertip a few more times. An unfamiliar tingle zapped straight down your body, as if his tongue were lapping between your thighs. 

He withdrew from your finger, placing a kiss over the cut that no longer stung. Even without his lips on your finger you felt like you were still under his spell. 

He hummed softly, almost a groan before he spoke. “You don’t know what you do to me, amore mio.” Alex purred, pulling you into his arms and against his chest. His hands slotted naturally at your hips, leaning down and breathing in your air.

“What I do..?” Your brain felt miles behind your mouth, instinctually leaning up towards his lips. “What…what does that mean?” You had hardly caught the pet name he’d called you, having not a clue what language it was. 

“You’re intoxicating. You invade every one of my senses. Your scent, your taste, your beauty.” His voice came out as a purr, his hands squeezing down on your waist you felt as if he were only further stealing the air from your chest. “Allow me another taste.” His nose pressed against yours and wordlessly you nodded, eyes fluttering shut when his lips pressed against yours.

You had no trouble letting Alex lead, his lips pressing firmly against yours. His lips felt as soft as they looked, slipping between yours seamlessly in a deep kiss. It wasn’t long before he was coaxing you along, the tip of his tongue brushing against your bottom lip slowly. You didn’t want to pull back to ask what was expected of you but as always he seemed one step ahead.

One hand moved from your waist, index finger and thumb pressing gently against your cheeks to help you part your lips. His tongue slipped into the warmth of your mouth, licking over your tongue slowly and feeling it beneath his own. A soft moan sounded from your throat, his tongue muffling the noise as your saliva mixed together. You could taste the metallic tang of your blood on his tongue, pressing your body more firmly against his. Something about tasting your blood made those exciting tingles return tenfold. You didn’t even know what to say to try and voice your dilemma to him, your tongue pushing back against his.

“I know, amore mio.” Alex whispered against your lips after withdrawing his tongue, leaving your lips parted and your chest rising and falling heavily with your breaths. “Let me make it all better for you.” His lips captured yours in another kiss, shorter and sweeter before he withdrew again to pick you up bridal style and carry you back inside.

You couldn’t be bothered to look at the rooms that you walked through, your mind jumbled and excitement thrumming through your veins. It was wrong for a woman to fool around with a man that wasn’t her husband or trying to court her. Perhaps you could count this as courting to keep your guilt at bay. 

It was like you had blinked before he was pushing the heavy wooden door to your bedroom open. It was record timing that he walked the large castle to get to your bedroom, though he knew the castle far better than you did. The door shut quietly behind the two of you, this time the candles lit and the curtains drawn closed. It made it easier to see his breathtaking beauty again.

Alex helped guide you down onto your feet, his hands cupping your cheeks to gather your full undivided attention. “I wish for you to stay here with me.” In his eyes was that loneliness that you suspected, the usual intensity lurking behind. His wish was a surprise to you, a man you had just met sweeping you off your feet and wanting you to move in. It was all out of order from what was expected of a woman your age but quite frankly, you couldn’t bring yourself to care. He was beautiful, he was lonely and he was wanting you. To give yourself away, to never return to your town, to continue to be pampered and spoken to just right.

Alex’s thumbs stroked over your cheekbones, and he was quiet and patient as he waited for what you had to say. He was prepared for either rejection or acceptance but he wasn’t sure he could allow rejection to happen. “Think about it for me then. I have something I need to do for you first. I am a man of my word.” Alex leaned down, leaving another gentle and quick kiss on your lips.

You couldn’t help the smile that tugged on the corner of your lips after he had pulled back, no one had ever paid so much attention to you. His hands expertly found the back of your dress, pulling loose the bodice from your chest. His eyes roamed over you with hunger and desperation. It went without saying that he wanted you and you wanted him just as badly without really knowing what exactly you wanted.

Alex leaned down, kissing over your shoulders with soft barely there contact. Again your eyes closed, feeling his lips linger towards your neck. He seemed to like it there the most, his lips repeatedly gravitating to kiss against your pulse. While he kissed, his hands made work of pulling your dress the rest of the way down, his fingertips finding purchase on your thighs when your skirt fell to your ankles. His fingertips easily sunk into the fat of your thighs, his fingers massaging and finding their way higher up towards the hem of your panties.

That tingling anticipation returned, his hands skipping over your panties to settle at your waist again. It felt like heat resided in your veins, heat and electricity meshing together making you feel lightheaded.

“Not fair if I’m the only one undressed.” You found your voice, reaching for his blazer to help pull it from his shoulders. Beneath it he wore a silk button down shirt, buttons tight along his broad chest and abs. The size of his pectorals beneath his dress shirt caused the buttons to strain to keep the shirt closed, his biceps in the sleeves almost seemed too big. You wouldn’t have imagined that’s what he had been hiding beneath his clothes, a throbbing starting in your clit as you watched his muscles flex.

“I’ll undress after I get what I want. You won’t keep me from getting a proper taste.” His voice turned stern, his hands moving to your back to undo the intricate ties of your corset. Your breathing became a bit heavier from the tone of his voice, the corset releasing your form allowing you to breathe. Alex pulled the corset from your body, disregarding it onto the armchair. 

Before you could think to cover your tits from his view, his large hands moved to cup them, the coldness of his palms made your nipples harden. “Look at you.” He mused, leaving a kiss on your collarbone, both hands massaging the warmth of your tits. ”Beautiful.” He purred against your skin, the pads of his fingers pinching at both your nipples and earning a squeal from your lips.

Your back arched towards his hands, the pinch catching you off guard but beginning to leave your panties damp with your juices. He was leaning over you significantly to kiss your flushed skin, lips gliding down towards your areola. You moaned loudly in surprise when he slurped your hardened nipple into his mouth, his tongue rolling over the hardened nub slowly. Just like when he was sucking on your finger the suction was strong, making your thighs shake from the foreign feeling.

Alex’s right hand gravitated towards your waist to help keep you balanced, his left fingers still pinching on your nipple while he lewdly sucked and slurped on the one in his mouth. It was all too much for your inexperienced body, the touching, the sucking, the noises. Quiet pants left your parted lips, your body taking great pleasure in how his large hands and mouth worked your body.

You whined when his lips withdrew from your nipple, he left open mouthed kisses across your sternum, his tongue darting out to lick along the curve of your tit. His warm spit quickly cooled on your skin, your eyes greedily watching his movements. Feeling your eyes on him his blue eyes met yours, holding eye contact while he sucked your other nipple into his mouth.

Your brows knit together, eyes closing to break eye contact. It felt like your whole body was shaking, unable to handle the new sensations zipping through your body. His hands had settled on your waist again, hoisting you up with his ease, his mouth still sucking on your nipple. “Oh God.” You breathed, limbs wrapping around him for purchase. You were at the perfect height, tits squished against his face while his sucking only grew harder. Your thighs were wrapped around his upper torso, your hands gripping his black strands of hair while he hummed in pleasure against your chest.

Alex carried you over to the bed, your frame feeling incredibly light in his grip. Your skin tasted just as sweet as you smelled, fragrant enough to make his mouth water and his mind be filled with images and filthy thoughts of you.

Your back came to rest on the soft sheets of the queen sized, your nipple still caught in the warmth of his mouth. His hands rested against the arch of your back, forcing your tit deeper into his mouth. His teeth grazed against your soft skin, sharp and making your thighs tighten around him.

His lips released your nipple to kiss down your sternum, stopping just above your navel. “Spread your legs, my love.” When he spoke to you so tenderly, you couldn’t help but want to obey. Alex watched as you spread your thighs for him, a groan reverberating through his chest at the sight of your panties. They were transparent in the low lighting from how much of your grool had wet the gusset, your vulva pressed against the material. He could see everything, your labia and your clit peeking from its hood, begging to be kissed on and toyed with.

“Oh.” You moaned, your breath quickly leaving you as you felt his lips kiss you through your soaked panties. That tingle returned, never leaving for a second as he ran his lips along your slit. It felt like your panties weren’t even there, your head thrown back on the sheets when his mouth met your clit. His lips were pursed, only kissing over the sensitive pink bud. Each tap of his lips made your hole clench down on nothing greedily, reacting to the intense but brief pleasure.

“So wet for me.” He murmured against your skin, his voice sending vibrations through your clit. Your hips bucked desperately, forcing his lips against you more firmly. “She’s just for me, hm?” He gave you what you wanted, kissing more firmly against your bud but it wasn’t even close to enough.

“Yes, just for you.” You stammered, struggling to speak through your excited pants. His index finger hooked into the gusset of your panties, bunching them up as he pulled them to the side, finally revealing the entirety of your slit to him. Your vulva was shiny and sticky with your grool, thin strings of it connecting you to your panties.

A blush flooded your cheeks as he stared down at you with an intense hunger, his tongue darting out to lick up and break the strands. His tongue was warm as it ran over the length of your slit, your hips bucking again as his spit made an even bigger mess. He groaned against you, his tongue traveling in the reverse, down to lap at the grool that leaked from your hole.

“Alex…” The rest of his name got caught in your throat when his tongue pressed against your hole with the right amount of pressure. His saliva pooled against your pink walls as he forced his tongue deeper, the tip of it lapping against your walls. He felt every squeeze and convulsion of your walls, more grool dripping onto the flat of his tongue. It felt like you couldn’t breath with how his tongue lapped at your insides, eagerly licking against your trembling walls. It gave you the pleasure you were craving when he had only his lips on you, your hips continuously bucking against him as he attempted to lick your insides clean. The pleasure was slowly peaking, electrifying tingles being felt in your toes and your fingertips. Your thighs trembled uncontrollably, staying spread with the help of his firm grip.

Alex pulled back, swallowing the grool that had gathered in his tongue, the tip of it pressing against your slit and spreading your lips apart. He could hear your blood rushing as he continued to lap at your lips, his tongue finally meeting your swollen clit. Your hips jerked back from the intense feeling, your head thrown back and a gasp leaving your lips.

“That where you want me, my love? Sucking on that pretty pink clit?” His questions were vulgar, his lips pursed together to blow cool air on the hardened nub. Speechless you nodded eagerly, although still reeling from the brief touch he’d allowed you. Rather than giving you what you wanted, he kissed above your clit and around the sides, your hole clenching down in anticipation. “You know better, answer properly, like a lady. Use your manners.”

You swallowed thickly, eyes meeting his so he could see the pitiful look in your eyes. It didn’t work in giving you what you wanted any sooner, his lips having gravitated to your inner thigh, kissing along your femoral artery. “Please..” You started, your voice feeling small as you tried to rearrange your thoughts to think of what you wanted to say. “I want you to lick my…my clit…please” Your face felt like it was on fire, watching as his lips moved and sucked against your skin, leaving a bright pink mark.

“Better.” He purred against your thigh, brushing his lips upwards on your inner thigh until his wet lips brushed against your lips. He parted his lips, gently sucking your clit into his mouth. You moaned loudly, hips jerking towards his mouth as he steadily began to suck on your clit. His tongue brushed up against your clit while he sucked, his lips tight around you. The pleasure was instantaneous, a fuzzy feeling filling your brain. More grool spilled from your hole, trailing down your taint from his eager sucking.

“Oh my God, please don’t stop.” You were bucking eagerly towards his face, toes curling as his sucking remained steady and consistent. His thumb brushed against your hole, massaging it and spreading your grool around with soft clicking noises. 

Your breaths quickened, listening as he sucked and slurped on your clit, his spit covering you and dripping down your slit, mixing sloppily with your grool. “Something…something’s coming.” You moaned, your abdomen clenching at the same time as your hole, your fingers desperately grasping onto his hair to keep him down against you.

With one extra hard suck it felt like an explosion had gone off within your body, stars dancing across your vision and white noise filling your ears. You felt faint, like you could lose consciousness from how hard your body was bearing down on nothing. His mouth kept sucking, working you through your first orgasm, his fingers stroking against your trembling thighs.

You could feel the feeling come back to you, the warm sheets beneath your body and the coldness of his hands on your skin. His mouth was no longer on your clit, instead his sharp teeth embedded into the skin of your thigh, a pinch that you hadn’t felt in your euphoria. You couldn’t even make sense of the fact that he was doing more than just biting you, swallowing thick gulps of your blood. It tasted sweeter in the throes of your pleasure, running quickly from how hard your heart beat as you came.

The suction of his lips against your skin only left another bruise behind, his teeth slipping out from the wound he had made. The warmth of his tongue brushed against the fang marks of your skin, his saliva healing the wound closed, your blood smearing from his lips against your thigh.  He licked his lips, moving his thumb to lick up the cum that was steadily dripping from your messy hole.

Sensitivity buzzed through your hole, bringing you back to the moment, your fingers still threaded into his hair. “Too much..” You murmured, feeling the sweat at the back of your thighs from how hot you felt. You tried to pull on his head but he didn’t budge, his tongue only moving faster to clean up your cum that dripped straight into his mouth.

When you tried to pull him back again he growled against you, the vibrations reverberating in your bones, being felt right down to your core. You could feel the prickles of sensitivity when his tongue pressed back into your hole, pushing and prodding deeper and lapping at the subtle ridges against your walls. 

Tears sprung in the corner of your eyes when he flat out ignored you but the pleasure spiked along with the discomfort. Your walls clenched down, feeling his tongue press against a certain spot against your front walls. It was like a blinding white light crossed your vision as his tongue pushed and prodded against the rough spot within you. “Ah.” You moan loudly, not even sounding like yourself, your hips bucking against his face again. Your eyes rolled when his nose brushed against your sensitive clit, his tongue snaking deeper, filling out your walls.

Somehow it felt like his tongue was hitting all your walls at once, the base of his tongue pressed against the rough patch while the tip of his tongue pressed against your cervix, exactly where he wanted to be. His drool along with your grool made your walls even more slick, his tongue lapping against your cervix. You hadn’t even had the chance to completely calm down, hips bucking eagerly against his nose. The sensitivity didn’t matter when you could feel another orgasm just on the precipice, hole squeezing down on his broad tongue.

Your thighs came to close against his ears, your breaths coming out quicker as you tried to prepare yourself for another earth shattering orgasm. It did nothing but make you lightheaded as a second orgasm crashed into you, your walls clenching down hard as if trying to push his tongue out. Your cum easily dripped onto his tongue and his mouth, your hips not slowing down as you tried to chase the feeling of your slowly ebbing orgasm. 

Alex pulled back only when he was satisfied licking your cum from your walls, his long tongue licking his lips and nose clean. He kissed your hole, licking up more strands of grool and cum before his mouth was kissing up your midsection, right below your navel. You were trembling beneath him, your limbs feeling like jelly and your pussy buzzing with oversensitivity.

“Good girl.” He purred against your skin, kissing up to your sternum and nibbling on the warm skin. “Delicious, just as I thought.” His lips wrapped around your skin, sucking bruises onto your sweaty skin, his tongue lapping over it slowly. “Can’t get enough of you.” He groaned, leaving a path of hickies along your heaving chest, over the tops of your breasts and along your collarbones.

You moaned high in your throat when his hand cupped your pussy, trying to scoot your body back and away from him. “One more, give me one more, my pretty girl.” He cooed, his lips latching onto your neck, feeling the vibrations of your moans.

“Can’t.” You whined, hips jerking when his thumb rubbed against your sensitive clit. He rubbed it in quick circles, listening to the moans and gasps that got caught in your throat.

“I’ll make you.” His teeth were sharp as they nipped at your throat, his middle finger pressing and slowly sinking into your dripping walls. From how many times you had cum the expected discomfort was nonexistent. Having his finger inside of you was more filling than his tongue, thick and long, his fingertips purposely rubbing against your walls, forcing out more moans from you.

The pleasure was nearly painful, everything in your body wanting you to draw back from his touch, to finally catch a proper break. He wasn’t as kind as you were led to believe, your clit being stimulated constantly just to get a reaction out of you.

Alex’s nose brushed against your neck, smelling the sweetness of your skin and the saltiness of your sweat, the arousal clinging to your every pore. It wasn’t long before his ring finger joined his middle finger, pumping slowly and following the natural curve of your front wall. Your grool splashed against his wrist from how quickly he was pumping his fingers into you, his knuckles flush with your hole after each pump. You wanted nothing more than to feel him filling you more, deeper, pressing against your cervix again.

“God I can’t.” You repeated, those unshed tears streaming down your cheeks from the repeated fluttering of your walls. You couldn’t stop the tenseness in your thighs and abdomen, your body preparing well before your orgasm rounded the corner.

Alex’s lips moved to kiss the tears from your cheeks, his tongue savoring the salty taste. “You will.” Even when he spoke his fingers didn’t slow their brutal pace, pressing firmly on your g spot.

You brought your hands up, grabbing and scratching on his broad shoulders as he didn’t slow down despite your moaning and wailing. Your hips bucked despite yourself, your eyes rolling back into your skull as an orgasm suddenly ripped through you from the prodding to your g spot. You hadn’t even realized you had screamed until his lips pressed against yours to silence you. He withdrew his fingers from inside you, your body no longer felt like it was a part of you. You felt boneless, wanting to sink into the mattress and sleep after what he’d put you through.

Alex smiled as he pulled away from your lips, pleased with having tired you out but he was far from done. “You’re doing so well for me, so perfect.” Alex pecked your lips again, his mouth moving to work the skin of your breast back into his mouth. “Stay with me.” Alex repeated against your skin, listening to you try to catch your breath. “Be my wife.” 

“Mmm.” You could only hum in response to his voice, eyes closed to pass the lightheadedness, taking in the coolness of his skin on yours. Your eyes flew open at the pinch of his teeth sinking into your breast. You tried to sit up on your elbows but his hand stopped you, a cold feeling overtaking you as his tongue worked the skin of your breast, helping to fill his mouth with your sweet blood. 

“What are you doing…?” You couldn’t fully wrap your head around what was going on, the near deranged look in his eyes as he drank from your breast. You heart only raced harder as the realization dawned on you. Breathtakingly handsome, large empty castle for a home, those sweet words you couldn’t disobey. When he pulled away, your blood on his lips and tongue, two puncture wounds in the fat of your breast, it all clicked into place. He was who you should be afraid of, the vampire from legend. Not at all just a story to be told to young children. You had fallen into his very trap, became his next meal to be locked away in his home. But, was it all that bad when he treated you with such gentleness and kindness? When he made you squirm on his fingers and tongue so expertly, listened to your every moan and scream. You should have been scared but you were not.

“Again…” You whispered, licking your bottom lip in anticipation. Tha made Alex’s lips quirk in a smirk, flashing a bright white fang you hadn’t noticed previously. His tongue licked over his teeth before he leaned down to bite into the opposite breast. The pinch this time still left that cold feeling but it seemed to reawaken that desire in you. You needed more, deeper…

Alex drank from your second breast, his hands moving low to spread your thighs and slot himself between them. The material of his pants rubbed against your sensitive vulva, something firm and warm pressing against your slit. It seemed to be the only part of his body that wasn’t plagued by the cold, his hips pressing down against you firmly.

It was clear that Alex wasn’t kidding about wanting you, wanting to keep you as his wife for as long as he saw fit. He was convinced that you were perfect for him. Every part of you was to his liking, the taste of your skin, your blood, the way you reacted to his touch. How could he let you return to your life?

Your hands moved from his shoulders around to finally begin unbuttoning his shirt. Your hands were shaky, prolonging the time it took to help undress him. He chuckled at your eagerness, lapping over the bitemark he pulled his fangs from, his hands moving to help you unbutton his shirt. The rest of his body was just as pale, his nipples the same blush pink as his lips. You were in awe as his muscles flexed as he pulled off his shirt and began to undo his dress pants.

It was not a position you thought you’d find yourself in, being absolutely drowned in ecstasy and euphoria from a man that generations before you had feared. Nothing about him was scary like you were taught, he was a loner who wanted love and appreciation like anyone else. If anyone else knew that about him it would certainly put him in a human light. You were the only one that had gotten the chance to see it, allowing him to indulge in your body like he hadn’t had the chance to with anyone in decades.

Your hands rubbed against his chest, feeling his cold skin beneath the warmth of your hands. It was no wonder you thought him to be human, his skin was soft, veins and muscles taut beneath it. Your hands moved down brushing against his pectorals and down his ribs towards the dark happy trail disappearing into the waistband of his boxers which he was starting to work off next.

You could feel the excitement returning, it was like watching a gift being unwrapped in front of you. A hunger gnawed in your abdomen watching with bated breath as he pulled his boxers down his powerful thighs. Your brows furrowed at the sight of him, his length spilling out of the confines of his underwear. His dick was long and pale, slightly more pale than his skin, large veins coiling around the base of it. His tip was partially covered by foreskin, just a glimmer of his pink tip with a bead of precum threatening to drip from his slit. He was mouthwatering, you wanted to taste him just like he had tasted you.

You licked your bottom lip, watching as his large hand grasped his base, pumping slowly and drawing the skin back, the bead of precum landing on his fingers. His right hand moved to spread your left thigh open for him, his body sliding back between your thighs.

“Be my wife.” He proposed again, your breath catching in your throat at the warmth of his tip rubbing along your slit. Your grool and cum smeared onto his tip from his hand guiding himself up as far as your clit and down to gently press into your hole.

This time you heard him loud and clear, body tensing in anticipation before his tip moved again, spreading your slit around his tip. His precum dripped slowly on your skin, dribbling down to join the mess that was leaking from your hole.

He was waiting for your answer, tapping his tip against your sensitive clit, your hips bucking up towards his length. It was heavy against you, the veins throbbing as he guided the rest of his length to grind down against your slit. His pale skin was sticky and covered in your grool, strings of it connecting the two of you. He slapped his tip against your clit repeatedly, watching as your hips continued to buck from the stimulation. “Don’t keep me waiting, my love.” He grinded his tip down against your clit, your breaths coming out quickly again. It was so sensitive you already felt on the brink of another orgasm but it never came. It was like a continuous build but your body was too tired to give in to the feeling completely.

“Your wife?” You reiterated, your brain feeling like it was elsewhere again. He hummed in response to your question, finally guiding his wet tip to gently push into your pink walls. He was thick, already a significant stretch compared to his fingers and tongue. “I don’t…I’m not…” You stammered, trying to figure out what you wanted to say. His hips continued forward, his tip sinking slowly into your hole, your grool squelching loudly.

There was a slight bit of discomfort but just like his bite the pain burned so good. The pleasure spiked, your walls clenching down on his tip but not stopping him from forcing his way through your tight pussy. He groaned softly, deep in his chest as you continued to bear down, between trying to suck him deeper and force him out from the foreign feeling. 

“Don’t, not, what?” He was teasing, repeating the words that hadn’t gotten the chance to form real sentences on your lips. “You’re perfect for me, everything from your taste to how your pussy grips me.” You moaned at his words, back arching when he continued to push deeper, his girth spreading your walls wide around him. His fingers dug into the skin of your thigh, making sure to keep you steady.

When more than enough of his cock had settled inside the warmth of your walls, his left hand moved to spread your right thigh just the same, your hole stuffed with no space for anything but his cock to fit. It helped guide his length deeper until his tip firmly collided against your cervix. You squealed in surprise, feeling the heaviness of his cock pressing into you. There was that painful pleasure again, tears springing to your eyes before you could fully process the near numbing feeling. 

“Yes! God yes, I’ll do it!” Your thighs trembled beneath his hands, his hips pulling back only for a second before his tip was pressing right back into your cervix. Another shout between a yelp and a moan as he pounded into your cervix, his large length hardly fully seated inside of you. Your walls were clamping down non-stop, grool quickly coating the length of him as he thrusted, cream starting to form a ring around his base. 

“Good girl, so smart.” He cooed, placing a kiss on your neck while he held your legs open for him. You felt like you couldn’t breathe with the weight of his hips coming down on you. Every vein of his rubbed up against the ridges of your walls, pressing lightly against your g spot, precum squirting against your insides. “Gonna stay with me forever right?” He nipped your neck with a fang, grinding his hips down against you just to hear you whine.

You nodded wordlessly, the pressure of his length inside of you making stars burst behind your eyes. You tried to pick your hips up against him, wanting more, needing more friction. You felt like you were just on the edge, dangling so close to another sweet release.

“I wanna hear you say it. Tell me.” His left hand moved and you could feel it ghosting against your clit, earning another moan for you. That was what you needed, but every time you bucked your hips needily, he’d move his thumb entirely, hips giving your cervix a constant beating. Your pussy sounded sloppy, wet noises filling the room alongside your moans and pants.

“I’ll be your wife, I promise I won’t ever leave you. God please don’t stop..” You were full on crying, frustrated from being denied for so long. It was like your body was betraying you, not allowing you to cum on his cock like you wanted. 

“Please please…” You begged softly, one thigh closing against his side. The sounds of your begging was so pretty to him, something he would happily get used to for the rest of your mortal life. He was contemplating just what the meaning of being his wife would be, a beautiful mortal to warm his cock whenever he needed to, to drink from whenever he was thirsty. Maybe he’d turn you, grant you immortality to keep you from ever leaving his side. To have more than a lifetime with you moaning and crying from his cock.

Alex pressed his finger down on your clit, rubbing it in quickened circles that had your whole body tensing and your walls gripping him tightly. It felt as if you’d lost all your senses, back arching, his cock continuing to pummel into your cumming walls. A large bulge pressed against your abdomen, his cock throbbing against your stomach.

His fangs sinking into your neck went unnoticed, drinking your pleasure from your veins while pounding into your tired walls. Your cum soaked his length, shining against his hips and thighs from how quickly he was fucking into you. Your blood exploded over his tongue, a low growl emitting from his throat as he forced himself as deep as he could physically fit. 

Your walls milked the girth of his length, his veins throbbing as his own cum spurted from his tip, coating your walls quickly. His cum only joined the mess that dripped from your walls, further creaming his base.

You were tired, trembling despite yourself even when you came down from your orgasm. You could only feel his cool skin against yours, hearing the blood rushing in your ears. You hadn’t even noticed that he adjusted the both of you, his arms wound tight around your body, your head on his chest as you were now cuddled up at the head of the bed. His thumb stroked gently against your lower back, your heart still beating loudly in your chest.

Your eyes could hardly stay open, your tongue darting out to wet your lips, your voice feeling raw from all the noise you were making. “Your secret is safe with me..” He had never told you himself but you were confident in your deduction. Your new lover was the vampire that everyone feared. Everyone but you.

[the-orange-tabby-cat]

ALBUM FIC OF THE DAY: Halcyon by @justagalwhowrites (15/?)

A LYRICS COLLECTION BASED ON GOLDIE AND JOEL

TRACKLIST VIBES

Did I spend the whole day thinking about the last Halcyon chapter? Yes. The whole damn day. The only way to deal with was being a big girl and listening to every Taylor song that reminded me of them. They are my favorite couple, you can blame Kit for it.

GOLDIE AND JOEL CODED LYRICS

“We are alone with our changing minds, we fall in love 'til it hurts or bleeds or fades in time” (State of Grace)

“So you were never a saint and I loved in shades of wrong, we learn to live with the pain, mosaic broken hearts” (State of Grace)

“These are the hands of fate, you're my Achilles heel, this is the golden age of somethin' good And right and real” (State of Grace)

“Put your lips close to mine as long as they don't touch. Out of focus, eye to eye, til the gravity's too much” (Treacherous)

“I'd be smart to walk away but you're quicksand” (Treacherous)

“All we are is skin and bone trained to get along, forever going with the flow, but you're friction” (Treacherous)

“That nothing safe is worth the drive and I would follow you, follow you home” (Treacherous)

“I guess we fell apart in the usual way and the story's got dust on every page but, sometimes, I wonder how you think about it now and I see your face in every crowd” (Holy Ground)

“Words, how little they mean when you're a little too late. I stood right by the tracks, your face in a locket” (Sad Beautiful Tragic)

“We had a beautiful, magic love there, what a sad, beautiful, tragic love affair” (Sad Beautiful Tragic)

“In dreams, I meet you in warm conversation and we both wake in lonely beds and different cities” (Sad Beautiful Tragic)

“Distance, timing, breakdown, fighting. Silence, the train runs off its tracks. Kiss me, try to fix it, could you just try to listen? Hang up, give up and, for the life of us, we can't get back” (Sad Beautiful Tragic)

“But if the story’s over, why am I still writing pages?” (Death By A Thousand Cuts)

“Hell is when I fight with you But we can patch it up good Make confessions and we’re begging for forgiveness” (False God)

“There are so many lines that I've crossed unforgiven. I'll tell you the truth but never goodbye” (Daylight)

“I wounded the good and I trusted the wicked, clearin' the air I breathed in the smoke” (Daylight)

“I once believed love would be burning red, but it's golden like daylight” (Daylight)

“Is it insensitive for me to say "get your shit together so I can love you"? Is it really your anxiety that stops you from giving me everything or do you just not want to?” (Renegade)

“You fire off missiles cause you hate yourself but do you know you're demolishing me? And then you squeeze my hand as I'm about to leave” (Renegade)

“Someday, when you leave me I bet these memories follow you around” (Wildest Dreams)

“This love is good, this love is bad, this love is alive back from the dead. These hands had to let it go free and this love came back to me” (This Love)

“We’re a shot in the darkest dark oh no, oh no, I'm unarmed” (Say Don’t Go)

“Why’d you whisper in the dark just to leave me in the night? Now your silence has me screaming” (Say Don’t Go)

“Cause you kiss mе and it stops time and I'm yours, but you're not mine” (Say Don’t Go)

“Truth is, I can't pretend it's platonic, it's just ended” (Now That We Don’t Talk)

“Was it over when she laid down on your couch? Was it over when he unbuttoned my blouse?” (Is It Over Now?)

“One thing after another, fucking situations, circumstances, miscommunications, and I have to say, by the way I just may like some explanations” (Question…?)

“Did you realize out of time? She was on your mind with some dickhead guy that you saw that night” (Question…?)

“And maybe it's the past that's talking, screaming from the crypt telling me to punish you for things you never did” (The Great War)

“I was making my own name, chasing that fame, he stayed the same, all of me changed like midnight” (Midnight Rain)

“He was sunshine, I was midnight rain” (Midnight Rain)

“Please, don't ever become a stranger whose laugh I could recognize anywhere” (New Year’s Day)

“Who's gonna stop us from waltzing back into rekindled flames If we know the steps anyway?” (loml)

“As the men masqueraded, I hoped you'd return with your feet on the ground, tell me all that you'd learned cause love's never lost when perspective is earned” (Peter)

“And the years passed like scenes of a show, the professor said to write what you know looking backwards might be the only way to move forward” (The Manuscript)

“The only thing that's left is the manuscript, one last souvenir from my trip to your shores” (The Manuscript)

“What if he's written "mine" on my upper thigh only in my mind?” (Guilty As Sin)

“if you wanted me, you really should've showed” (the 1)

“I persist and resist the temptation to ask you if one thing had been different, would everything be different today?” (the 1)

“I'm only seventeen, I don't know anything but I know I miss you” (betty)

“There's an ache in you, put there by the ache in me but if it's all the same to you It's the same to me” (‘tis the damn season)

“I escaped it too, remember how you watched me leave but if it's okay with you, it's okay with me” (‘tis the damn season)

“I don't like that anyone would die to feel your touch. Everybody wants you, everybody wonders what it would be like to love you” (gold rush)

“What must it be like to grow up that beautiful? With your hair falling into place like dominoes, my mind turns your life into folklore I can't dare to dream about you anymore” (gold rush)

“I can't stop you putting roots in my dreamland, my house of stone, your ivy grows and now I'm covered in you” (ivy)

“I'd live and die for moments that we stole on begged and borrowed time” (ivy)

“it's a war, tt's the goddamn fight of my life and you started it” (ivy)

“Pages turn and stick to each other, wages earned and lessons learned but I, I'm right where you left me” (right where you left me)

“If our love died young, I can't bear witness, and it's been so long, if you ever think you got it wrong, I'm right where you left me” (right where you left me)

“A simple complication, miscommunications lead to fallout. So many things that I wish you knew, so many walls up, I can't break through” (The Story Of Us)

“Don't you smile at me and ask me how I've been, don't you say you've missed me if you don't want me again, you don't know how much I feel I love you still” (Don’t You)

“I'm on the bleachers dreaming about the day when you wake up and find that what you're looking for has been here the whole time” (You Belong With Me)

“All this time, how could you not know, baby? You belong with me” (You Belong With Me)

TRACKLIST (all songs mentioned)

State of Grace

Treacherous

Holy Ground

Sad Beautiful Tragic

Death By A Thousand Cuts

False God

Daylight

Renegade

Wildest Dreams

This Love

Say Don't Go

Now That We Don’t Talk

Is It Over Now?

Question...?

The Great War

Midnight Rain

New Year's Day

loml

Peter

The Manuscript

Guilty As Sin

the 1

betty

‘tis the damn season

gold rush

ivy

right where you left me

The Story Of Us

Don't You

You Belong With Me

[kukuma-kit]

Club Night

Ao’nung

┯━━━━━━━━━━ ●●● ━━━━━━━━━━┯

☆: * parings: human!Ao'nung x curvy! human!reader ☆: * warnings: AGED UP! 22 characters, maybe oc Ao'nung?, attempted proofread, cursing, mentions of Ao'nung and readers body, maybe some flirting? not rlly fluff or angst ☆: * Na'vi glossary: skxáwng- idiot ☆: * word count: 5,971 ☆: * Note(s): I was just experimenting with this and how tumblr works, feedback would be really helpful! I haven't wrote in a while but I've been wanting to write and I use to, so this'll be my first one. Not really proud of it but we'll see:) credit to the person who drew Ao'nung as a human! by @CrazyTom0712  on twitter!

┷━━━━━━━━━━ ●●● ━━━━━━━━━━┷ ✧* Summary: Having to be stood up and accompanied by the rain isn't exactly an ideal introduction of meeting a new possible friend..

The sound of raindrops falling on a quiet night would have been a soothing and peaceful experience, if it weren't for the fact that you had just left a noisy strip club and were stood up by a blind date set up by a friend. Frustrated and grumpy, you shouted into the empty sky, "As nice as it would be to enjoy the rain right now, now's not the time!!" You knew deep down that the guy wasn't going to show up, but you were still angry at the wasted effort and the terrible weather conditions that made it impossible to get a cab or any other transportation.

You cursed yourself for not checking the the hours of transportation properly before leaving, as you quickly pulled out a spare jacket from your bag, thanking yourself for checking the weather. The thin material of your dress was no match for the cold rain, and you rushed to find a chair to sit on one of the bar's patios. As you sat there shivering, you couldn't help but think of the friend who had dressed you in the black dress that didn't provide any warmth, putting the jacket you brought around your shoulders. While skin tight clothing was never really your thing, your friend convinced you to slip into a black dress that reached down to your mid-calf. The dress had a subtle slit on the side that reached right below your panty line and hugged your curvy hips. Although the fabric was stretchy, it still felt snug in all the right places. The thin material was perfect for your sensitive body heat, and you appreciated how it was loose enough to allow for easy movement. Despite all of this, you still cursed 'Otxä for forcing you into this dress and for having the nerve to dress you!

As you sat there lost in thought, the door to the patio opened and out walked a tall, muscular man with a tanned complexion and a thick accent that immediately caught your attention. He let out a sigh of relief and stretched his broad shoulders, revealing the outline of his muscles underneath his shirt. Ao'nung wasn't fond of his co-workers and their silly antics, he wanted some space so his headache would go away.

"ah..finally, some fresh fucking air" You couldn't help but notice the way his accent slipped off his tongue and melted into his words, making you feel a little more alive and a lot more turned on. Thighs clenching instinctively to put some sort of pressure on the throbbing that happened in between your legs, you pull out your phone to distract yourself from the man. The sound of your sigh fills the air as you look at your unanswered messages, left on delivered. Making said man avert his eyes to your screen, not realizing someone else was there with him. The impatience within you grows and you stand up, almost colliding with the man.(why he so close?) You feel his hands grip your biceps, causing your jacket to fall as your phone slides off to the side. As you stare up into his ash-blue eyes, you gulp, taken aback by his sudden rudeness. "Do you not look where you are going?" he huffs at you. You snap out of your daze and remove yourself from his grip, irritated by his behavior. Furrowing your brows, you create a crease in between which he can't help but notice.

"Well, excuse you. You were the one near me, why are you even that close?" you cross your arms underneath your breasts, making them pop out as you lean on one side of your leg, your hip poking out as you stare at him. He's surprised by your response; no one has ever spoken back to him like that before. You were also very pretty, even gorgeous, causing him to feel flustered and intimidated. His eyes scan over your figure, lingering on certain parts for a few seconds. "R-right, are you alright?" he asks, briefly regaining his composure. You chuckle before sitting down at the nearest table, facing him. He picks up your phone and jacket, walking over to you and setting them on the table.

"You aren't the best with words, huh?" you say, observing him as he gruffs. He feels bad about getting your jacket wet and sees you shivering, unable to resist a glance at your breasts as they pop out more. "Uh- yeah, something like that," he stammers, handing you his blazer. You inspect it, leaving him speechless before he blurts out, "It's like it's dirty! Why're you- just put it on or give it back, woman!" You laugh and put on the blazer, sighing at the warmth it provides. "I was only kidding. Thank you…uhh?" you trail off, realizing you don't know his name. Ao’nung, a member of the Metkayina clan, leans on the table as he introduces himself. You're left wondering about his clan, but before you can speak, you accidentally say out loud, "Metkayina..? As in one of the clans from Pandora, the reef people?". Ao’nung confirms your suspicion, grinning at your knowledge and causing his face to glow in the moonlight. As you continue to chat, you can't help but notice his earrings reflecting the moon, giving him an almost ethereal glow. When you inadvertently stare, Ao’nung asks why, and you quickly come up with a silly excuse. "why're you looking at me like that, woman?" "well that's one way to address me, fishface. besides no one's looking at you with that attitude" you huff out in annoyance at his rudeness. Taken aback he quickly defends himself before you burst out in laughter, Ao'nung wasn't having it as he yells at you. You both engage in some good-natured teasing, sharing laughs and quick insults that lead to a competition. As the night grows late, he offers to give you a ride home. Seeing that he was your only way of transportation, you accepted. The ride was surprisingly comfortable, and you both enjoy chatting and getting to know each other. You end up exchanging numbers with the promise to hang out again soon. As you step out of the car, he warns you not to wear certain clothes in a club where guys might stare at you, but you tease him about having a "fishface". You say goodbye and head inside, collapsing on the sofa and falling asleep with a smile on your face.

[historia-vitae-magistras]

butt?

I had to substitute it for arse, sorry. Exploratory fic I began to explore some character dynamics and what the lifestyle of 4 growing nations and their mother in their last real time together would be like in a slightly Post-Roman Iron Age estate as the Migration period picks up and Germanic peoples cross the North Sea to make a home. I believe of these earlier themes have their origin with @balladofthewhitehorse.

5th Century AD, Cumbria

"Rhys," Alasdair appeared at the fence line, his face gloomy. Rhys had stopped here for his mid-day meal halfway between where the shepherds had herded the sheep in the northernmost glen and their home behind on the hill. It'd been a long two days in the hills. He offered the cider flask to his brother as Alasdair approached, his frown deepening. It wasn't raining, and the day's work wouldn't have been hard. Bad news, then. It was always bad news.

"What is it this time?"

"Rot in the south store."

"Oats, rye or wheat?" Rhys asked. The rye they might go without, but the rain hadn't come so early that anything else should rot.

"Oats,"

"Fuck." Rhys sat on the low wall of flagstones and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Fuck,"

He glanced up. His brother looked even more dour. "Gods, what else?"

"Seven horses," Alasdair said, sitting beside Rhys, boneless and upset.

Rhys gaped at him. "Seven? That's three more than were sick yesterday!"

"It's spreading." Alasdair shrugged helplessly. "I took the healthy ones into the third stables, and it didn't help."

"Is it distemper?"

"I didn't think so," Alasdair said. "They weren't so feverish, and there wasn't pus, but now I don't know.

"So, no horses to sell this year. At least half the oats are gone."

"Rhys." Alasdair's ingot grey gaze fell heavily, and Rhys glanced at his brother.

"I know," He said, and Alasdair didn't look convinced. He looked at his elder brother with a firm look. "I know."

"If we can't pay the tributes…"

He thought of the mustached helmets of the German kings and exhaled. "We don't know that we can't pay. There's plenty to sell."

"It's not just a lack of goods I'm worried about. It's been a bad year for everyone. There might not be anyone to sell to."

"There must be," Rhys said, pulling his cloak tighter over his shoulders. "There will be. We'll figure it out."

"I suppose all we can do is pray," Alasdair said.

Rhys frowned. Alasdair was the one with a mind for numbers, but he always worried, and they always managed before. So what if the horses would not fetch the total price if they were ill come market day? There was still the wool, the fine worked saddles he and Alasdair had made the year before, and plenty of cattle, sheep, honey and mead to sell. There were options. They had options.

"I'll see to the horses; if none of them die, we'll be fine," Alasdair said. "We have ore too. I might get a good price for my boar spears."

"Maybe," Rhys said. His hope was teetering precariously on the assumption that his brother was overly worried.

There was an unspoken sense of doom between them, both praying their worries were unfounded. Rhys grimaced after they parted ways at the outer gate, Alasdair marching off to the stables and Rhys to the poultry yard and the hives. One of the women in his mother's service alerted him to the fact that another of the hives had gone dark with rot. Honey was expensive, and now there wouldn't be enough to sell and use themselves over the long winter. Rhys waved her off with a pinched-off smile.

He stood in the poultry yard for a long moment, leaning against the half gate that kept the hens, quail, and ducks safe in their enclosure and away from the hounds. He watched Arthur tumble after a goose, laughing as it squawked and ducked him. Their dinner pail of scraps and grain was sitting neglected as he played, but Rhys looked on, letting him play. They'd have to keep more honey than what he'd wanted to sell, if only for Arthur's sake. Honey cakes with stored apples and cheese or on bread were one of those precious things that would cheer him when the worst of the winter gloom gripped him worse than any of them. Arthur rolled to a halt, cackling as the goose bobbed angrily and finally noticed him.

"Rhys!" He grinned, leaping to his feet and making a beeline for him. He exhaled a loud "oomph" as Arthur knocked into him, throwing his arms around him. "You're back!"

"I was only gone a night," He laughed. "How is Mother? And where is your cloak? Have you lost it again?"

"The same," Arthur said. "Maybe a little better. She laughed this morning when I fell right on my arse out of bed. Bridgie pushed me."

"Good! And you probably deserved it. You kick in your sleep." He replied, and his smile was genuine. Mother had at least made an effort to shake her recent gloom then. She'd been thinner, paler, and sadder than he'd ever seen her in the last few years, and it hadn't gotten any better as the days became shorter. "And your cloak?"

"I forgot it!"

"You'll catch your death." Rhys ruffled his hair. "Hurry and feed the birds and come in for dinner."

[twohearts-hs]

Defying The Odds: 16 - Michael Scofield x Reader Series

Words in Total: 5.8k

Pairings: Michael Scofield x Reader: afab x reader

Synopsis: Y/N was a victim of the mob since the age of fifteen, however, falling in love with the wrong guy and having an argument got her 25 years in prison for murder. She had a plan to get out in faith of her husband until she met Michael Scofield, who, despite his plan, fell in love with her. Now she has the mob and Michael Scofield's escape to worry about.

Warnings: Swearing, Prison, Intimacy, Murder, etc. you know the deal...

A/N: this is a complete series of ~105k words. Based on Season 1 & 2.

Hope you enjoy :)

Masterlist

In Tooele, Utah, the group of them drove aimlessly. T-Bag was still in the back, Tweener in the trunk and Y/N on Michael’s lap in the passenger seat while Lincoln drove.

            “This is a new subdivision,” Y/N muttered. “Suburbia is boring as fuck. I wish to never be part of it,” she stated. Michael rubbed her arms.

            “Noted,” he responded.

            Lincoln stopped the car, glancing over to Michael. “The ranch is gone, Michael.”

            Michael ran his hand through his short hair. “Well, the 5 million might not be.”

            “And you gonna find it how?” T-Bag asked lowly. “What you got a divining rod tattooed on your ass?”

            “Not funny,” Y/N muttered, leaning back, her head hitting Michael’s shoulders. However, she could not get more out because Michael lost it.

            “I don’t wanna hear anything out of your mouth other than what your photographic memory spits out regarding that map!” Michael yelled.

            “Michael, my ear,” Y/N muttered, holding her ear as the yelling went straight through it and he quickly whispered his apology.

            “You watch your tone with me, boy,” T-Bag warned, glaring at Michael.

            Michael moved Y/N slightly so he could face T-Bag. “I will watch you get tossed on the side of the road to fend for yourself, boy,” he retorted. “Because if you can’t remember where that silo was, you’re worthless to us, and I might just let Y/N hurt you a little more.” Then he turned back, holding Y/N once again.

            “Yo, fools, let me out!” Tweener yelled which Lincoln told him to shut up.

            “The map!” Michael barked.

            “Ok, ok, all right, all right, all right,” T-Bag stuttered, eyes closing as he thought. “The ranch…the ranch was in the centre of a box. Sheep Road on one side, Kokosing Road perpendicular. In the centre of the property was a ranch house and the ranch house was surrounded by trees.

            They got out of the car and walked around. A runner came by and glanced at them. Y/N shook her head…they did just come out of a dirty, broken car with four fugitives…

            “Every tree here is a year old, at most. Except those,” Michael said as they stood far away from the house.

            “Where is the silo?” Y/N asked.

            Bagwell hit his head a few times before muttering, “Inside the trees. I wanna say on the left, but that may have been a barn. I remembered the best I could, gents and lady, but I didn’t know this place would now be smothered in tract homes, so you know, I’m sorry that I’m not Rain Man over here.”

            “He’s no help,” Y/N muttered, crossing her arms over her chest. “Absolute no help.”

            Y/N walked back in the car and they all followed as they waited for T-Bag to remember where the silo was. Y/N felt Michael his head against her back as she drew lines on his arm. Slowly, she took her hand and brought it to her lips. He smiled.

            “I’m sorry for yelling in your ear,” he muttered.

            Y/N smiled, turning around and kissing his lips quickly. “All forgiven.”

            “Silo, silo, silo, silo, silo…” T-Bag muttered.

            “This is stupid. We’re gonna get made out here,” Lincoln interrupted.

            “Shut it. I think I remember. If I had to bet, I’d lay it all on the silo being on the left of the ranch house, inside the trees,” T-Bag explained, finally remembering. His face was right behind Michael’s crouching behind him. A shiver went up Y/N’s spine.

            “No, it’s outside the trees,” Michael replied, smirking and staring ahead. Then he pointed. “Right there. You see those two trees? They’re shorter than the rest. They were all planted at the same time but those two didn’t get as much sunlight.”

            “Something was in their way,” Y/N muttered.

            “Yeah, a silo,” Michael responded. “Our money should be right there under that garage.”

            “You better be right, boy,” T-Bag muttered.

            “This isn’t a high-end subdivision, they slapped this place up overnight. The silo’s foundation might still be there. To save money, they probably laid the concrete for the garage floor right on top of it,” Michael explained. Leave it to the engineer to know everything about buildings. “We’ll dig straight down. If we hit the foundation, we stay. If not, we go.”

            “Let’s do it,” Lincoln agreed, however just as soon as Michael opened the door, a blonde middle-aged woman appeared out of the house and grabbed her newspaper in a robe.

            “Ain’t no problem that screwdriver to her temple won’t fix,” T-Bag muttered.

            “We’re not hurting her,” Y/N mumbled, “you’re not hurting her.” She glanced back with a stare at him. “We are going to be smart.”

            “People die all the time, boys. Especially you, little miss, the wrath of danger. $5 million comes once in a lifetime,” T-bag

            “We gotta do something and it’s not gonna involve hurting anyone,” Michael stated.

            “I got an idea,” Lincoln responded. “First, we’re gonna need some supplies.”

            They drove out of the suburb again, parking as they got out. T-Bag was instantly angry, slamming his door and looking at Michael and Lincoln. “110%, I do not agree with this.” Then he slammed his hand on the car top.

            “Everybody’s got to pitch in to make this happen,” Lincoln stated.

            “But back in the big house, the boy proved he couldn’t be trusted,” T-Bag stated about Tweener who was still in thr trunk.

            “Which is why we’re doing it here,” Lincoln replied. “If he gets caught in town, he won’t know where the house is.” Lincoln threw the keys to Michael.

            “Besides, you’re the one we can’t turn our backs on,” Michael said to T-Bag before opening the trunk.

            Tweener came out, eyes squinting, sweat across his forehead. “Oh, I could’ve died in there, man,” he said, climbing out.

            “Well, guess what? I need you to do something,” Michael stated.

            “I need you to do something for me,” Tweener retorted.

            “I don’t think this is up for discussion,” Y/N muttered, pinching the bridge of her nose.

            “I want my cut of the money,” Tweener ignored Y/N and continued.

            “Well, we’ll talk once you prove we can trust you,” Michael replied.

            “What do I go to do?” Tweener asked, eyes narrowing on Michael.

            “I want you to go back to that garden centre and get everything on this list,” Michael said as Tweener snatched the list from him. “And gas up the car.” Then he handed him some cash. “We’ll meet you right back here in an hour.”

            “All right.”

            “And, David, don’t screw this up,” Michael threatened.

            “This ain’t Fox River no more, man. Looking at the real deal now. But I want my cut. Back in an hour,” Tweener said, putting his hat on and getting into the car.

            Y/N walked up to Michael and grabbed his arm. He glanced down at her. “I don’t trust him," she muttered and Michael just nodded.

-

 Y/N stood next to Michael with her arms crossed over her chest as Lincoln opened the electrical box. Michael looked down at him and asked him how he knew about electricity.

            “I used to steal copper wiring from transformer boxes, and then sell them on the docks, make a few bucks,” Lincoln told Michael. “When you were at school, of course.” Lincoln began to unscrew a few things.

            Y/N looked over at Michael who looked at her. She sent him a smile but he reached out to cup her cheek, thumb grazing over her lips before pulling away. He noticed that T-Bag was staring at the lady in the window and gave him a glare.

            “I was just looking, Pretty,” T-Bag muttered. “You got something pretty to look at, I’m a little jealous. What’s that old chestnut? ‘I can look at the menu. Doesn’t mean I’m gonna eat’.”

            “We get in, we get the money, we get out,” Michael stated, voice firm. “That’s it.”

            “No. Absolutely.” However, he continued to stare at the woman.

            “Gross,” Y/N muttered. “Love being a woman.”

            “We’re good. Now it’s up to the kid,” Lincoln stated, finishing his task.

-

The kid followed through but he popped a guy with a shovel while trying to get supplies. Bickering happened.

            Y/N stood by the car, arms crossed, her eyes burning a hole into the back of Michael’s head as he explained the plan for their next move. The group was gathering supplies, all of them getting ready to play their parts as a fake trades company to dig up Westmoreland’s hidden money. She knew how these operations went—blend in, keep your head down, and get the job done. But the moment Michael suggested she sit this one out, something snapped in her.

            “I think it’d be better if you stay out of this one,” Michael said quietly, but firmly, as if the decision had already been made.

            Y/N scoffed, stepping forward. “Excuse me?”

            Michael ran a hand through his hair, glancing at the others before lowering his voice. “Y/N, look, it’s not about you not being capable. I know you are. It’s just—”

            “It’s just what? Because I’m a woman? Is that it?” Her frustration bubbled up, hot and sharp.

            “Come on,” Michael sighed, his eyes pleading with her to understand. “A woman in a trades company is going to draw attention. We need to be invisible. The fewer eyes on us, the better. It’s not personal, it’s just strategy.”

            “That’s bullshit, Michael!” Y/N snapped, her voice rising despite herself. “You’re always talking about how we’re a team, how I’m part of this just as much as anyone else. And now, suddenly, I’m not good enough?”

            Michael’s jaw tightened, his hands clenched into fists at his sides. “I never said that.”

            “No, but you sure as hell implied it.” Y/N crossed her arms, glaring at him. “You’re just pushing me aside because you think you know better.”

            Before Michael could respond, Lincoln stepped in between them, his deep voice cutting through the tension. “Whoa, whoa, whoa. Time out,” Lincoln said, holding up his hands. “We don’t have time for this. We’re supposed to be focused on digging up that money, not digging into each other.”

            Behind them, T-Bag leaned against the van, watching with a smirk. “Ah, trouble in paradise?” he drawled, licking his lips in that unsettling way of his. “Nothing like a lover’s quarrel to spice up a good old-fashioned heist.”

            Y/N shot T-Bag a withering look. “Shut up, Bagwell.”

            T-Bag raised his hands in mock surrender, the grin never leaving his face. “Just saying, sweetheart. Ain’t no harm in a little domestic drama.”

            Lincoln turned his glare to T-Bag, making him quiet down with a shrug before refocusing on his brother and Y/N. “Michael, she’s been with us from the start. Let her help.”

            Michael looked torn, his eyes flicking from Lincoln to Y/N. He didn’t want to argue with her, and he certainly didn’t want to belittle her skills, but his mind was on the risk. He exhaled deeply, staring at the ground for a long moment.

            “It’s not that I don’t trust you,” Michael said softly, his voice edged with frustration. “It’s the optics. If this goes wrong, we’re all screwed.”

            “I can handle myself,” Y/N shot back, her voice low but fierce. “I’ve been handling myself for years. What, you think I’m just gonna freeze up and blow it?”

            Michael opened his mouth to respond, but Lincoln cut him off with a sharp gesture. “Enough. We don’t have time to debate this. We either work as a team, or we don’t work at all. Got it?”

            The tension hung thick between them, but Michael finally nodded. He looked at Y/N, his eyes filled with conflict. “Fine,” he muttered. “But you’re in the car, you stay out of sight unless we need backup. We’re not taking unnecessary risks.”

            Y/N clenched her jaw but nodded, her hands still balled into fists. She didn’t agree with him, but at least he wasn’t pushing her completely aside.

            “Good,” Lincoln said, stepping back. “Now, can we get back to work? We’ve got a fortune to dig up, and I don’t plan on leaving empty-handed.”

            As the group moved to gather the last of their gear, T-Bag gave Y/N a wink. “I like a woman with a little fire,” he said. “Makes things interesting.”

            Y/N ignored him, her mind still simmering with frustration. She wanted to help, wanted to prove to Michael that she could be just as valuable out in the field as anyone else. But for now, she’d play her part, and hope the opportunity came to show him she was more than just someone to be protected.

-

Y/N sat in the car, tapping her fingers against the steering wheel, her frustration simmering. She hated waiting, she was more of an action girl. She hated sitting still when she could be doing something. Her hand went to the dash storage and took the gun out, she cocked it and reloaded it a few times before throwing it back into the storage. Michael’s caution still stung, though she understood his reasoning. But being stuck here while the others worked made her feel like a caged animal.

            Her eyes darted to the rearview mirror when she spotted movement out of the corner of her eye. Two figures were approaching – C-Note and Sucre. She narrowed her eyes in confusion, then blinked in surprise. What the hell were they doing here?

            Y/N opened the door and stepped out, her boots crunching on the ground as she walked to them. “What are you two doing here?” she called, folding her arms across her chest.

            C-Note smiled, but there was a tension in his eyes. “Same reason you’re here. For the money.”

            Sucre, on the other hand, grinned broadly as soon as he saw her, jogging the last few steps to close the distance. “Mami!” he exclaimed, pulling her into a tight hug. “It’s been a hot minute, huh?"

            Y/N couldn’t help but smile at Sucre’s warmth, wrapping her arms around him for a brief moment. “Good to see you, Sucre,” she said, though her tone was tinged with frustration. Michael would not be happy. She pulled back and gave both men a look. “I’m guessing you’re here for the money,” she muttered.

            C-Note nodded. “Yes, where is the rest of the group?”

            “Inside,” she muttered.

            “Why aren’t you helping, mami? You always help. Usually more than the others,” Sucre asked.

            “Michael,” she muttered, “he’s being an ass, but that’s ok. Something about me not blending in.”

            “That’s nonsense. Go help.”

            Y/N nodded and looked over to the garage where the others were, her expression light with frustration. “Come on. I better let the boys know we’ve got company. This is about to get even more complicated.”

            Sucre clapped her on her back, still in high spirits despite the situation and C-Note gave her a curt nod as they followed her to the garage.

            As soon as she opened the door, and stepped in, Michael glanced up. “What’s wrong?” he rushed.

            “We’ve got company,” she responded. Just then C-Note and Sucre entered.

            C-Note took his hat off, grinned and said, “What’s up, Snowflake?”

            Michael had his hands on his hips, head tilted slightly. “Well, as always, your timing is flawless.”

            C-Note crossed is arms over his chest, muscles flexing in the black tee he was in. “I don’t follow.”

            “Well, let me try and explain it to you. We’re trying to run something here and we can’t have people walking in off the street. Y/N, go back to the car,” Michael said, focusing on her.    

            Y/N kicked the ground and nodded, not in the mood to deal with their bickering. “Come grab me when you’re done,” she muttered, walking out.

            Boredom, that’s what she felt. Complete boredom as she laid in the car, seat back and closing her eyes. Y/N walked back into the garage, hat on her head as she watched them. Michael glanced up and sighed. “Y/N…’

            “Let me help,” she muttered, walking over to grab a shovel. “T-Bag is out as he’s injured so let me help.”

            Michael nodded and they continued to dig. They hit the silo’s foundation which meant they just needed to hit the edge and dig around it.

            “What’s wrong?” Michael asked as Tweener spoke up.

            “We got to stop in Tooele first and gas up the ride,” he muttered, scared of the wrath Michael would bring.

            “I thought you already did that,” Michael responded, voice frustrated.

            “Man, when the garden centre thing happened, I just forgot, all right?” Tweener responded.

            Michael took a deep breath as Y/N rubbed his back. “I want you to go back into town. I want you to gas up that car–“

            “–I can do it,” Y/N interrupted.

            “No, you’re staying where I can see you,” Michael barked. Then he glanced back at Tweener. “I’m not driving around with millions of dollars in the trunk. Do you understand?” his voice was low, unwavering.

            “Man, why do I gots to do it? The girl said she could–“

            “–No, Y/N is staying. She needs to stay with me. It’s your job,” Michael said as Lincoln pushed him a little.

            A car pulled up and Sucre went to go check it out. Y/N kept digging as Sucre explained a cop was here. Y/N threw the shovel down. “I’ll go get Michael,” she muttered as he left to check on T-Bag.

            Y/N walked in the house, seeing the broken glass and panic struck her as she continued up the stairs to the bedroom. That’s when she found T-Bag holding the blonde woman, Jeanette, hostage with a small hammer.

            “There’s a cop,” Y/N muttered to Michael who turned to look at her.

            “I know,” he responded.

            The woman officer came in, calling for her mother, but they stayed quiet. Eyes flickered between each of them, worried struck upon their faces.

            “Stay here…stay quiet,” Michael said to them.

            The officer began coming up the stairs, getting suspicious. She had her hand on her gun, as she slowly came up. Jeanette yelled which caused the officer to run faster to her, opening the door with the gun on them.

            Y/N stayed still, hands up slightly as she stared at the woman.

            “It’s ok, it’s ok,” Michael said.

            “Back away and put your hands up,” she said.

            “Just go easy,” Michael said, trying to calm the situation.

            “Go nothing. She ain’t the one carrying the cards here,” T-Bag said, holding the hostage closer.

            “Back away and put your hands up!” the officer barked.

            “If I put my hand up, gonna take her jugular with it,” T-Bag retorted.

            “Look, I don’t wany anyone to do anything stupid, ok?” the officer said.

            Sucre came out of nowhere, trying to grab the gun, but the officer got him squared in the nose while pointing it at him. “Don’t move!” However, Lincoln came from behind her, grabbing the gun and mumbled something about being civil.

            Y/N let out a sigh as she put her hands down. They took both women downstairs and tied them up. Michael looked to her and brought her into a hug, holding her tight. “It’s ok,” he mumbled, kissing her cheek. “It’s ok.”

            As they got downstairs to where the hostages sat, Michael paced lightly, hands trembling as he looked at what was in front of them. “This is going wrong in every possible way.”

            “This is stupid, man. We cannot do this,” C-Note barked, throwing hands up.

            “Hat’s over the wall now,” T-Bag muttered.

            “What the hell is that supposed to mean?” C-Note asked.

            “We’re committed,” Y/N muttered. Bickering began as talked about what was next. Michael leaned over to Y/N and muttered, “Why can’t it be a silo in the middle of the field with no one around?”

            “I don’t know,” she mumbled, “I guess this is our luck.”

            They came back to see the hostages again and Michael looked at them with sympathy in his eyes. “Sorry isn’t going to mean anything to you right now, but I want to say it anyway,” Michael spoke to the woman. He was always sorry, always caring. “This wasn’t supposed to happen. One of two hours tops and we’ll be out of here, you have my word, no one will harm you,” Michael told them. Y/N was looking at the woman, but the one officer was staring at her, daggering shooting into Y/N’s eyes.

            Michael walked over to Y/N and Sucre. “Keep your eyes open. Nothing happens to them…Nothing.” Then he walked away.

            Y/N looked at them and that officer looked at her. She began to pace back and forth in front of the hostages, her eyes scanning the living room as the others continued digging up Westmoreland’s money. Sucre stood by her, arms crossed, glancing occasionally at her before returning his attention to the hostages.

            The young female officer in the group had been gagged…both women had been, but she was squirming and making muffled noises, her wide eyes locked on Y/N. It was clear she wanted to say something, and Y/N sighed, pulling the cloth off her mouth.

            The young female officer took a moment to catch her breath, her eyes fixated on Y/N. “I know you,” she said, her voice sharp but curious. “You’re the one they talked about at the academy.”

            Y/N frowned, narrowing her eyes. “What are you talking about?”

            “The Black Beauty Murders,” the officer said, sitting up a little straighter despite her restraints. “Your case was part of our training in homicide investigations. It was a cold case for years. They said you killed six men. Everyone in the station called you, ‘The Black Beauty’.”

            Y/N felt her blood run cold. It was not the first time she’d heard that title, but it always felt like a slap in the face when someone threw it at her. She kept her expression calm, but Sucre sitting nearby has gone quiet, his attention fully on the conversation now.

            “You got the wrong idea,” Y/N said, her voice low, trying to keep her agitation in check.

            The officer’s eyes gleamed with a nasty sort of interest, enjoying getting a rise out of her. “Rumour had it, you killed twenty men, not six. Some say you even enjoyed it. Taunted them, played with them–“

            “–enough,” Y/N hissed. “You got the wrong person. I haven’t killed twenty men,” she said through gritted teeth. “I haven’t killed anyone.”

            The officer smirked, leaning forward as much as he restraints allowed. “Sure, sure. That’s what they all say. The station loved your story as you had a victim in Utah. We studied you like some kind of celebrity. Bet you didn’t know, huh? The cops who couldn’t ‘t catch you were pissed. Spent a decade chasing ghosts. Then one day, all this evidence just appeared in Chicago and you were found at your apartment, cooking dinner when you were arrested.”

            Y/N felt her heartbeat picked up, anger bubbling beneath her skin. She glanced at Sucre, who was watching the exchange silently.

            “Ok, doll,” Y/N said, pushing off the cabinets and sauntering over to the officer. She kneeled down. “Black Beauty, huh? I wonder why they gave me that name? Perhaps it was the black dress I wore, perhaps the black heart they believe I have or the black gun I havered, but I never used it as it was always–“

            “Knives,” the officer finished.

            “Yes. Quick and easy. Untraceable. Those crime scenes were always cleaned to perfection…it wasn’t until my darling husband came and dropped evidence right at the police station’s door as we had an argument. Don’t fall in love with the wrong man, sweetheart. It’ll haunt you,” Y/N said lowly, smirking as she turned away.  

            Sucre watched the whole thing, walking over to Y/N and whispering, “She’s just trying to mess with you, Y/N.”

            Y/N shook her head and looked back to the officer. “I was your favourite case, wasn’t I?”

            She nodded. “Got to meet the celebrity, huh?” Y/N mused. The girl just stared at her. “I’m not going to hurt you though. I don’t like hurting people. It makes me upset. So, perhaps I didn’t do those murders. You can make your decision,” she muttered, walking away.

            Y/N stood by the hostages, her arms still crossed, keeping a watchful eye on them. The young officer shifted uncomfortably and glanced up at her.

            “Y/N?” the officer's voice broke the silence.

            Y/N raised a brow, tilting her head slightly. “What?”

            The officer hesitated, her gaze flickering away for a second before she spoke. “If you’ve got any sympathy left in you... I need my pills.”

            “Pills?” Y/N echoed, her arms tightening over her chest as she tried to read the woman’s expression.

            “For my baby,” the officer muttered, her voice barely above a whisper.

            Y/N’s heart sank, recognizing instantly what she meant. “Metformin... to prevent a miscarriage?” she asked quietly, her voice softening.

            The officer looked at her, something shifting in her demeanour. She seemed to catch the sudden glossiness in Y/N’s eyes, the vulnerability barely masked. “How far along were you?” she asked, her voice gentler than before.

            Y/N’s lips tightened for a moment, her gaze drifting to the side as if trying to avoid the weight of the conversation. But she couldn’t. “Sixteen weeks,” she whispered, the words heavy on her tongue. “Before I lost her.”

            For a moment, neither of them spoke. The air seemed to still between them.

            “I’m sorry,” the officer said, her tone soft, and for the first time, sincere.

            Y/N swallowed hard, pushing past the lump in her throat. “Where are your pills?” she asked, her voice barely steady.

            “In the drawer,” the officer replied, nodding toward the kitchen. “Top one.”

            Y/N moved without a word, heading to the kitchen and opening the drawer. She found the pills easily, grabbing two and filling a glass with water before returning. Kneeling down, she handed the officer the pills. “Here,” she whispered, her voice catching slightly as she helped her take them. “How far along are you?”

            “I’m two months. I just had my first trimester sonogram on Tuesday,” the officer muttered, her hands trembling slightly as she took the water from Y/N.

            Before Y/N could respond, Michael and Lincoln appeared in the doorway. Michael’s eyes narrowed immediately, noticing the wetness in Y/N’s eyes.

            “What happened?” he asked, his tone sharp as his gaze flicked between the two women. He stepped forward, his concern quickly turning into suspicion. “What did you do?” he demanded, his voice tightening.

            The officer shook her head quickly, her eyes wide. “I didn’t do anything.”

            Michael turned to Y/N, his expression hardening. “Y/N, what did she say to you?”

            Y/N glanced up at him, her emotions barely in check. “Nothing,” she muttered, brushing past him and shouldering his arm as she did. “Just... reminiscing.”

            Michael frowned, watching her walk away, his jaw clenching. He turned back to the officer, still trying to make sense of the situation.

            “She told us about the baby she lost,” the officer explained, her voice quiet. “I didn’t mean to upset her.”

            Michael’s expression softened, but the frustration still simmered beneath the surface. He glanced toward the direction Y/N had gone, his heart twisting. He wanted to protect her, but he knew better than to push her right now.

            However, Lincoln didn’t waste a moment. “Keys to the car, where are they?” Lincoln asked in front of Jeanette. Michael looked over at Y/N, who was wiping his eyes. His heart went out to her, but Lincoln was about to make a stupid decision.

            “Just hold on,” Michael said. Lincoln grabbed the keys and began to walk. “You can’t do this, Linc. We’re five minutes away in there,” Michael said following after him.

            “We’ve been five minutes for four hours,” Lincoln responded.

            “Just give me some time,” Michael pleaded. “Be patient.”

            “You think I give a damn about the money?” Lincoln asked.

            “I’m doing what’s necessary!” Michael yelled.

            “You’re afraid to fail,” Lincoln bit back. “You’re afraid this big plan of yours ain’t gonna work out. You want to get caught proving you can pull this thing off, be my guest. LJ’s out there. I’m gonna get him.”

            Y/N focused on her fingers in the kitchen, playing with them as she glanced at the hostages.

            “I didn’t mean to make you upset,” the officer said.

            “You didn’t,” Y/N responded.

            “Was it with the mobster associated with you?” she continued to ask.

            “Why all the sudden questions?” Y/N asked, voice getting a little aggressive, being walking off to go back to Michael.

            She got to the garage, seeing him digging.

            “OK?” he asked.

            “Yup,” she mumbled back, grabbing a shovel. She stood next to Michael, beginning to dig when C-Note spoke up.

            “Yo, this is going to take all day. We need more manpower,” he said.

            “You know, standing around jabbering ain’t gonna get the dirt out of that ground,” T-Bag smirked.

            “All right, that’s it,” C-Note replied, grabbing Bagwell and throwing him into the hole. “Son of the bitch.”

            Y/N stopped digging looking over and sighing.

            The door opened and Sucre stated, “We got to roll.”

            “Why?” Y/N said, voice confused.

            “They got Tweener. It was on the radio,” Sucre explained.

            “Did they say anything about where we are?” Michael asked, holding the shovel.

            “I’m not hanging around to find out,” Sucre responded.

            “Well, maybe you should,” C-Note mumbled, spotting something in the ground. Michael looked down and then Y/N as they spotted some paper sitting in the ground. “Maybe you should,” he repeated, brushing the ground and looking up once he found what he was looking for. “Maybe we all should!”             Cash…a whole lot of cash was there in front of them. Everyone was grinning and hollering as they found what they were looking for. Slowly they packed it all, excited and talking about what they would buy with the cash. Y/N just sat there staring…that was a lot of money.         

            Someone appeared looking for Jeanette and Michael got rid of him, thankfully.

            Y/N continued to watch them with the cash, hoping nothing fishy goes down. Once Michael was back, everyone packed the cash into the backpacks before T-Bag threw cash at each of them.

            Sucre came back, gun pointed at them. “Drop the bag. No one’s going anywhere.”

            Y/N watched with a loud sigh escaping her as she shook her head. Everyone put what they were holding down. Parallelised, everyone was.

            “What the hell are you doing, man?” C-Note asked.

            “Sucre,” Michael whispered. “Whatever it is you want…”

            “I want the money, all of it.”

            “What, are you robbing us?” C-Note questioned in disbelief.

            “The money was never yours to begin with,” Sucre responded. “This is about business. $5 million worth of business.”

            “So, this is how it’s gonna go down, after everything?” Michael asked, voice low and hurt. “Once a thief, always a thief.”

            “You just figuring that out?” Sucre hummed. “The backpack…Now!”

            Y/N watched as this unfolded…

            “Don’t do this, buddy,” Michael whispered. However, Sucre took the bag.

            All of that for nothing. Y/N was in disbelief once again. It felt as though the plan was falling apart and the fear in her for what would next haunted her.

            Michael was her only chance of freedom otherwise, she would be back in the hands of the mob.

            Fear consumed her.

Here you go!

Hope you enjoy :)

I had so much fun writing this.

Much love,

Ava <3

-

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