#sigh. she needs a character bible

[ambrozians]

the point of a redemption arc for jade, to me, would be something that restores her to the initial essence of her character which was, to put it simply, a morally grey assassin who had zero interest in mass destruction. she made her money and went about her business, sometimes she would enact justice herself, and she can’t wait to retire.

i think there’s been little glimpses of that in the last few years, though most of it is ram v’s doing whenever he could incorporate her into his catwoman and TEC runs. the fact that she’s someone selina can and has sought out for help in the past is a step towards that, in my opinion. but it’s hard to make "morally grey jade" the status quo when so many other writers can’t seem to write her without dousing their writing in so much racism and misogyny. it’s even more difficult when her creator is responsible for some of the most important parts of her character and wrote the very event that took all that away. more writers (and fans) are inclined to engage with a racist and misogynistic depiction of her character than anything else.

[beomiracles]

「 GREED 」

DREAM RECALL your kind heart often led you down dangerous paths. So when there's a knock on your door and you find a beautiful man in dire need of your help, who are you to turn him down? Even if it may cost you your life.

pairings vampire!taehyun x afab!human reader warnings minor character death, descriptions of violence, descriptions of injury, DUB-CON (taehyun compels reader), blood drinking, oral (f. rec), vaginal fingering, unprotected sex, orgasm denial, breast play, marking, choking, manhandling, slight dumbification?, taehyun refers to reader only as 'human', prey/predator dynamics. please let me know if I missed any !!

wc -> 6.5k

#serene adds ✎... ahem the literal bible of warnings...anyway! guys I lowkey really like this one, it's my first ever vampire fic, which is crazy because I'm a diehard vampire fan (name any show/movie/book and I will know of it) so I'm surprised that I've managed to go this long without writing one. I really didn't intend for it to get this long and um like 1/3 is just smut... happy reading ! :3

The radio of your old car made a bruising noise before giving up completely, your last bit of civilization diminishing to nothing. Sighing you glance toward your GPS, but even that seemed futile. “I guess it’s just you and me now, Lola”, you state as you peer at your dog in the rear view mirror. 

Ahead, the narrow road made for a bumpy ride as you dwelled deeper into the forest. Surrounding you were pine trees, standing tall and proud, looming over you in an almost menacing way, as if to say; you are not welcome here. With both your phone and radio cut off, you were beginning to think that maybe there lay something in the unspoken words of the trees. This was no place for humans, yet you recognized the way the road turned, if ever so slightly, not to mention the familiar large stone that you had climbed so many times before. 

Soon the small cottage comes into view, and it was just as you had remembered it, save for the overgrown lawn that reaches its way through the old wooden planks of the porch. Your vehicle comes to a stop and as you step outside, the earthy smell of the forest greets you. Lola, on the other hand, sems skeptical; she fuzzes for a moment before finally getting out as you opened the trunk for her. “Oh don’t be so quick to judge it, you haven’t even seen the inside yet”, you give your dog a few pats before retrieving your large bag from the car. 

The old wooden steps creak under your weight as you make your way toward the front door. Rust had formed around the lock and it took more than a few tries to get the darned thing opened. With the push of your shoulder, the old door finally budges and you step inside. Nostalgia immediately fills your senses, it smells stuffy and old yet exactly like your childhood. The many summers you had spent cooped up in the small house, plenty of your drawings remaining on the wallpapered walls. 

It had been years since the passing of your parents, years since the house became yours, and years since anyone had even bothered to acknowledge its existence. In a way, you supposed you felt bad for the place, yet you hadn’t been able to come here without the painful memories of your parents flooding your mind. Not up until recently had you felt ready, ready to return here and remember the good things, the good memories. You wanted this house to remain a happy place for you. 

“Well it could definitely use a sweep, what’d you say, Lola?” The dog lets out a gruff of agreement as she noses at the dust covered sofa with a displeased look. Most of the place had been drowned in layers upon layers of dust and spiderwebs, you were certain that all kinds of animals lingered around the old building, seeking shelter from the harsh conditions the outside world provided. 

You spend the rest of the day cleaning, going through old photographs and personal belongings of both you and your parents. The downs of being an only child you supposed, not having anyone to share your grief with. It would’ve been nice to not be completely alone in the mess that your parents left, from arranging their funeral to selling their house back in the city. The project that was this cabin had all become too much, and thus you had put it off, admittedly for longer than you had originally intended. Though now that you were finally getting around to it, it was with a light heart rather than a heavy. 

By nightfall you had finished off practically all of the first floor. Flopping down on the now very much clean couch, you let out a tired sigh. Lola was sleeping peacefully on the carpet nearby and you leaned to give her a few pats before reaching for your phone. The device had been in and out of signal throughout the day, you figured you could try your luck with a call. 

Bringing it up to your ear, your phone rings, once, twice, three times before there’s a shift in the audio. “Hello?” The voice of your friend calls out on the other line and a small sigh of relief escapes your lips. “Jjunie? Hii, it’s me! Can you hear me?” You ask as there’s a small disturbance in the quality of the call. 

“Dimples?” he asks and you giggle, “who else?” Yeonjun lets out a huff of air and you hear the rustling of his mattress as he sits up, “I’ve been texting you like crazy, where have you been all day?” he questions, a tone of fake hurt lingering in his words. “I know”, you mumble as you pick at your cuticle, “I’ve barely had any service all day, it’s a miracle that this call even went through.” 

“I guess you’re really living that outdoor mindfulness life now huh?” he teases and you could’ve sworn that you heard the shit eating grin on his face. “Ha-ha”, you muse, “careful or I’ll make you spend the next week here with me. You could use a detox from that phone of yours.” Your friend snorts, “as if. My followers need me.” You roll your eyes, “you sure it’s not the other way around?” you ask to which Yeonjun responds with a row of profanities. 

Aside from a few break ups here and there the call runs smoothly and you’re relieved to be having a conversation with another human being for the first time today. After about twenty minutes of catching up, the subject suddenly shifts as Yeonjun’s voice grows wary. “You’ve heard about the stuff that’s been happening right?” 

You frown, "No? What stuff?” On the other side of the line, Yeonjun hesitates. “Well c’mon and tell me”, you press as you sit up a little straighter. Drawing in a long sigh, he then exhales, “well there’s been, bodies…” “Bodies?” you repeat, “you mean like…?” — “Dead bodies, yeah.” 

A small silence lingers in the air as you process the words of your friend. “Hikers”, he then adds and you gnaw on your bottom lip. “Well there’s plenty of good hiking trails around”, you mumble. It wasn’t unusual for people to try their luck up in this forest, during your summers spent here you had seen plenty of tents indicating someone’s stay. “Some are quite dangerous though and-” —- “That’s not why they died.” Yeonjun interrupts with a solemn voice and you feel your throat go dry. 

“Right…” you murmur as your gaze flickers toward Lola, “then how did they die?” Once more, your friend on the other line hesitates. “Please, Jjunie, I need to know, and I don’t exactly have any other way of finding out, other than going out there myself.” Outside of your window, the forest seemed darker than it had all those years ago; something bad had happened here. 

“They think it was an animal of some kind…” Yeonjun whispers and suddenly you feel a slight glimmer of hope. “Jjunie, trust me I’ve encountered plenty of-” — “This one’s different, Dimples.” Your friend interrupts you again, though his voice is now uncertain, “this thing, it’s smarter, it…it lures its way inside.” 

You swallow, “what do you mean?” Though you weren’t certain that you wanted to know. “It…the bodies, they never left their tents. It came to them.” The silence that follows is palpable and a shiver runs down your spine, despite the fact that you were covered head to toe in blankets. 

That night, you barely got any sleep. Your mind kept shifting back toward your conversation with Yeonjun as your gaze flickered to the window. You got up to close the curtains, but it did little to help the uncanny feeling seeping through your veins. Lola seemed to notice it too, she barely made a move to go outside, if only to use the bathroom. As three days passed, your phone refused to work and you became increasingly paranoid. 

By your fourth night at the cabin a heavy storm rolled around. This would also mark your fourth night without any signal whatsoever, the events of the outside world remaining unknown to you. The thunder roared outside, and if it wasn’t for Lola’s sensitive hearing, you probably would have missed the light knock to your front door. 

The persistent barking of your dog turns your attention toward said door, “what is it, Lola?” you ask to which your dog lets out a small whine. There’s a brief pause and for a moment everything is quiet, even the merciless storm outside seemed to hold its breath. Another knock against the old wood sends your heartbeat into a small spiral. You knew better than to open the door for just any stranger, besides, what business did another human being have in the middle of this forest? Unless… They were a hiker. 

Soon a raspy voice echoes out from the other side of the door. “P-please…please help me...” Your eyes widened, were they hurt, had something happened, and why were they alone? “Are you hurt?” you question as you get up and slowly inch toward the door, Lola trails behind you worriedly. 

It takes a moment before the voice replies, ragged breaths and soft grunts are all that can be heard. “...yes.” Their answer makes you hesitate, there was something uncanny about the voice, it felt almost strained. Upon noticing your evident doubt the voice pleads to you once more. “Please, please let me in. It hurts…” The voice morphs from a quiet plea into one of sheer desperation. 

“Who hurt you?” you ask, still wary as you keep one hand on the doorknob. Behind you, Lola whines in protest as she pulls her tail between her legs. The person on the other side of the door draws in a sharp breath, “I…I don’t know, it…I couldn’t see it clearly but it’ll come back I’m certain.. Please, please let me in!” it begs. 

Suddenly, you recall your last conversation with Yeonjun, about the animal preying on hikers. Could this be another of its victims? Whoever was on the other side of the door were in dire need of your help. With one final deep breath you unlock it and turn the handle. 

On your doorstep, you find a young man, slightly hunched over as he maintains a tight grip on his left arm. His breathing is labored and his clothes torn. It is not until he glances up at you, a hesitant yet hopeful look on his face that you finally see him. He was beautiful. Big dark eyes stare up at your own, his skin was smooth and perfect, yet sickly pale, you supposed it had to do with being out in this weather. 

“Oh my goodness…” you quietly mumble as you take in the state of the man. “Come in.” 

Upon urging him inside and shutting the door tightly behind you, you guide him to sit on one of the chairs by the dining table. The man thanks you over and over for your kindness as you rush to get him a warm blanket. “What’s your name?” you wonder as you place the quilt over his shoulders. He silently thanks you before replying, “Taehyun.” 

Just when you’re about to tell him your own, Lola emits a loud bark as she growls toward the man. Taehyun gives her a questioning glance but doesn’t seem to pay her any further attention. “Lola! Quit that!” you scold, embarrassed over your dog's odd behavior. “She isn’t usually like this, I don’t know what’s gotten into her…” you apologize as you swat the dog away with your hand. 

Taehyun gives you a small smile, “it’s alright, I’m certainly not the most pleasant thing to gaze upon at this given moment.” You thought his statement to be debatable as your eyes trail across his well built frame; stopping as they reach the large gash on his left arm. “Oh my, your…your arm”, you exclaim as you watch the way blood trickles from the fresh wound. Following your horrified gaze, Taehyun winces as he flexes his arm slightly. 

“Stay here, I’ll get you something for the pain!” You say as you scurry out of the kitchen and to your bedroom where you kept most of your essential supplies. Thankfully you had thought to bring along a medical kit, in case of an emergency like this. Though you were rather unsure if your meek bandage and lacking surgical skills would do much good to the large gash on his arm. Before exiting, you make sure to shut Lola in, not wanting her to cause yet another scene, she whines in protest as you do but you pay it little mind. 

Hastily, you return to the kitchen, and as you set the medkit down you begin rummaging through it. “I should have some kind of disinfectant here..” you mumble without lifting your gaze. It wasn’t until you went to check on the severity of his injuries once more that you froze in your tracks. The once large wound on his arm was…gone. You frown, “what…but I could’ve sworn…” 

The quiet chuckle emitting from the man before you makes your blood run cold as you lift your gaze to meet his. Taehyun’s once pleading eyes were now peering at you in an almost predatorial way as he studied your perplexed expression. “But I…” your words fall short as Taehyun suddenly rises from the chair, without taking his gaze off of you, he reaches a hand up to his neck, it makes a cracking sound as he tilts his head to the side, a small sigh escaping his lips. 

“You humans are far too kind.” His voice is low and as he takes a step forward, you immediately falter backward. The back of your legs hit the table behind you and you wince as you fumble to move around it. “Inviting just anyone into your home like that.” Taehyun’s eyes never leave you as a smirk etches its way to his lips. “My, your gullibleness is quite endearing.” 

You cast a quick glance around the old kitchen, your gaze falling on one of the larger knives. All you had to do was move one step to the right, reach out and… Taehyun’s eyes follow your own and he cocks an eyebrow. “I admire your plan of strategy, but a mere human’s tool will bring little harm to my kind.” 

His kind? Just what exactly was this man. You swallow a gulp as your gaze flickers between him and the knife, your heartbeat working overtime as you grasp for a decision. Despite his words you end up reaching for the knife, grabbing it tightly with both hands, you aim it toward the intruding man. “What do you want from me?” you grit out as you steady your feet against the wooden floor. 

Taehyun inhales slowly, letting his eyes flutter closed for a brief moment; as if savoring a pleasant scent. When he opens them again they’re a swirling pool of crimson. “Now you’re asking the right questions”, his voice lingers with desire as he slowly makes his way around the dining table. 

Like a deer in headlights you immediately dart in the opposite direction. Tumbling out of your kitchen and into the open spaced living room. Behind you, Taehyun laughs, an almost sinister laugh. Frantically you search for anything to shield yourself with. Settling on one of the armchairs in the corner, you quickly dip behind it. With your knees to your chest and back pressed against the soft cushion; you cover your mouth with your free hand, the other maintaining a tight grip on the knife. 

The wooden floor creaks beneath him as Taehyun slowly emerges from the kitchen. “Your determination to live is surely fascinating” he muses, the sound of his voice only becoming louder as he slowly approaches your corner. “Foolish human, you forget that I can hear the delectable sound of your heart beating from miles away.” 

Biting down on your hand, you will the tears away as you screw your eyes shut. “The human’s weak body gives them away before they even become aware of the dangers surrounding them.” The sounds of his footsteps come to a stop and you hold your breath, you don’t dare open your eyes, prolonging the moment for as long as possible. 

It is not until you feel his cold breath on your face that they snap open. The smirk plastered on his beautiful face as he watches you with much intrigue is enough for you to finally act. Your arm works faster than your brain as you swing the knife toward him. Taehyun lets out a faint hiss as he pulls back, thick red liquid seeps from the small cut on his cheek and his expression soon turns from smug into a scowl. 

Seizing your opportunity, you scramble to your feet as you dart for your bedroom. Though you barely make it 10ft before something hard crashes into you from behind. With inhumane speed Taehyun slams you up against the nearest wall. A cold hand wraps around your neck as he lifts you without much trouble. 

Your feet kick at the wall behind you as your body trashes against his grip. With his free hand, Taehyun wipes the blood from his cheek, the wound closing up before your eyes. In your haste you realize that you’ve lost your knife, your only hope. Letting out a huff of air, Taehyun’s gaze locks onto yours, “the others did not struggle this much”, he mutters. 

The others? As realization slowly seeps in, your eyes widen — it wasn’t an animal that had killed all those hikers. It was him. His tight grip on your neck restricts your intake of air and you barely manage to gasp out the word, “y-you..” Taehyun tilts his head to the side, a glimmer of curiosity flashing before his eyes. The grip on your neck falters, if only for a moment, as he lets you regain your breath in order to continue. 

“It was you. You killed all those people”, you splutter as your chest rises and falls in a heavy manner. He smirks, and from this close you’re able to make out the sharp fangs that prod against his bottom lip. “I see I have earned myself quite a reputation amongst your kind”, he comments before leaning in closer, eyes glinting with intrigue, “pray tell, what else have you heard of me?” 

You part your lips to reply before you stop yourself. As Yeonjun’s words ring in your ears you suddenly realize your mistake. “It lures its way inside. They never left their tents. It came to them.” He had come to you, he had knocked on your door and you had let him in. You hadn’t even left your house and the next time you would it would be in a body bag. 

Everything aligned, the pale skin, his inhumane strength and speed, his ability to heal, the crimson eyes, his fangs. He was a vampire and you had willingly invited him inside your house, ultimately signing your own death. 

“I let you in…” you whisper, disbelief evident across your face. “Ah, you are finally connecting the dots”, he mumbles, “I must admit you differ from the rest.” Cold fingers trace the outline of your face before trailing down your collarbone. His touch causes shivers to ripple through your body and Taehyun’s smirk grows. “Had I not been so insatiably hungry right now, I might have kept you around for a bit.” 

His gaze shifts from your mortified expression down to your neck. Contradicting to his previous tight hold on you, he now gently brushes along the exposed veins. “This forest has been vacant for weeks, I thought my last meal here had long since passed.” He brings a strand of your hair to his nose, inhaling the scent. 

“But then came you. And you smell absolutely divine.” His voice is low as his eyes flicker back to yours once more. Horrified, you shake your head as you push against his chest, your meek attempts at breaking free drew a breathy laugh from him. 

“Let us not struggle now.” The once feathery touch along your neck is replaced by a harsh and cold hand against your chin as he holds your face in place. And as your eyes come level with his own, you suddenly find it hard to look away. Dark pools of crimson pull you in, entrancing you as Taehyun mutters something under his breath. You know that it is wrong, but the longer you stare into his eyes the more you feel like giving yourself to him. Despite every instinct in you screaming for you to shut your eyes and pull back, you instead find yourself going limp in his grasp. 

“Much better”, he whispers as he loosens his hold on your chin. Your feet softly hit the ground again and you glance up at him. Somewhere in the back of your head, the urge to run still exists. But you don’t move, you stay unblinking as you gaze at him with a clouded expression. “You humans are almost beautiful when you don’t fret”, he mumbles as his cold fingers brush your hair back to expose your neck fully. 

His tongue drags across one of his fangs as he eyes the skin of your neck with anticipation. “Don’t worry, your sacrifice will not go to waste”, he assures as he leans in to press his cold lips against your warm skin. The feeling of his sharp fangs piercing the flesh of your neck causes your body to feel as if it were on fire. Yet all but a soft gasp is what leaves your lips at the intrusion. 

Everything hurt and you wanted nothing more than to push him off, pry his teeth from your weakening body. But your limbs felt strangely heavy, unable to move, your vision threatens to give out as your knees wobble. What was going on, why weren’t you doing anything? Taehyun groans against your skin, his hands harshly tugging at your hips to keep you in place.

Soon the burning sensation faded before it morphed into something dangerously similar to pleasure. Your body felt tingly, sensitive, every gulp of blood he took sent minor shock waves surging through you and you let out a small sigh at the feeling. To think that this was how you were to die, as nothing more but the next meal of a hungry creature, and in your last moments you found pleasure in it? The thought alone was enough to have your eyes drooping shut.  

Realization slowly creeps its way into your foggy mind — you were actually going to die. No one was coming to save you, you were all alone and this was how your last moments would play out? It was hard to feel any emotion, your mind far too clouded to even keep your eyes open, but if you could feel something, you supposed it would be despair. 

Teetering on the edge of unconsciousness, you accept your lowly fate. Just as the darkness is about to consume you, everything suddenly stops. Was death really nothing? Was there no heaven, no hell? Just darkness? It takes you a moment to realize that you are in fact not dead, and that Taehyun has pulled himself away from your neck.  

Slowly, your eyes regain focus as you look at him, confused. You were certain that he was going to kill you, did he really intend to prolong your inevitable death, to make you suffer further? You thought him to be cruel but this was far worse than you had imagined. 

His eyes remain a dark crimson as they fixate on you, but they had lost their sharp edge, he no longer looked as if he was eyeing his next meal, but rather his gaze held something akin to desire. Taehyun’s tongue swipes across his lips, coated in your rich blood as he savors the remnants of it. His breath is shallow, though you wondered if vampires ever really became out of breath. 

“You taste…” he trails off, eyes fixating on the puncturers he’d previously caused on your neck, “...unlike any human I’ve ever had before.” He almost looked to be at a loss for words as he stared at you, you weren’t sure if it was a good or a bad thing, and you couldn’t find yourself to care. Your body felt weak, numb and not like your own anymore. Perhaps death had been the easy way out from your current situation. 

As his cold fingers brush along your exposed collarbone, your gaze flickers back up to his once more. The movements of your own limbs still felt restricted by the unknown force caused by Taehyun, and even if they weren’t, you were sure that your body wouldn’t be able to maintain an upright position, much less run away from the creature before you. 

“I wonder if the rest of you taste just as divine”, he murmurs. His peering gaze suddenly shifts toward your lips and before you have time to question his intentions further, he crashes his lips against your own. 

At first you remain unmoving, unblinking, Taehyun pays your unenthusiastic response little mind as he kisses you hungrily. The faint metallic taste of your own blood lingers on his tongue as he pushes it inside your mouth and your nose turns up in slight disgust. Suddenly your body jolts to life once more, as if the spell in which he had put you under was lifted the moment his lips pressed against your own. 

With newfound strength you push against his cold and hard chest in a desperate attempt to break free. Your fighting hands are met by his own as Taehyun pins them to your sides before taking the liberty to explore all of your body. Cold hands wandering beneath your loose t-shirt, earning him a small whimper from you. 

You can’t help the moan that escapes from your lips as his fingers rub over your perked nipples, squeezing the soft flesh of your breasts. His touch felt oddly enticing and your body suddenly craved more, a lot more. But as his lips found your neck, the memories of what had previously taken place, flashes before your eyes and suddenly it feels as if those sharp fangs pierced your skin all over again. You become dangerously aware of what is about to happen as one of Taehyun’s hands tug at the hem of your shorts and you immediately try to twist your body away from his invasive touch. 

“No! Wait- stop!” you shriek as your hands work to pry him off of you. There’s a brief pause as Taehyun once again pulls his lips from your neck. He doesn’t say anything as he looks at you, an impassive expression pending across his face. You swallow, “this- I, what’s happening? This isn’t…” The words fall from your lips in a hasty manner as you struggle to form coherent thoughts, afraid that he would grow impatient at your antics and just kill you off. Finally you settle on, “I don’t understand.” 

Taehyun looks at you as he cocks an eyebrow, an insatiable hunger swirling behind his eyes. “You do not understand the act of indulging in one's sexual desires?” He wonders as he studies you with a mix of apprehension and disbelief. Your mouth falls open as you blink, “...I, of course I do but…” 

“Then you must understand that a vampire’s hunger exceeds beyond just his thirst for blood”, he murmurs as his gaze returns to your lips. “You are a very pretty human.” He breathes, cold fingers trail along your chest, pushing your shirt up to reveal your soft stomach. His eyes twinkle in anticipation, “there are other ways for you to satiate me.” 

With that statement, he reconnects your lips in a kiss filled with yearning. You don’t have any time to react before you feel your feet lift from the ground. The surge that forms in your stomach at his rapid movements remind you of that when a roller coaster drops. Your back hits the soft cushion of the sofa as Taehyun swiftly takes place above you, his arms caging you in.  

With one harsh tug, he pulls your shirt up to reveal your breasts. The cool air causes goosebumps to bloom on your skin, Taehyun trails his fingers over the small bumps as his lips attach around one of your nipples. Sharp fangs graze over your sensitive skin and you shiver in a fear mixed arousal. “I can hear your blood rushing”, he groans against your breast before moving on to the next one, leaving red marks that would soon blossom into purple. Tongue swirling over the sensitive bud, he elicits a small moan from you. 

In a tantalizing slow manner he moves down your stomach, inhaling your scent before stopping above the hem of your shorts. He looks up at you, with that same expression that had terrified you not long ago, he looked ready to eat you whole. “Are you scared, human?” he asks, fingers dipping inside the waistband of your pajama shorts. Your gaze flickers between his hand and his eyes, you swallow, “no.” 

Taehyun smirks, “liar.” Without warning he pulls both your panties and shorts down, a small shriek leaving your lips at the action as your thighs instinctively squeeze together. “There is little point in denying me”, he grunts as his hand easily finds its way between your sealed legs. Upon reaching your already wet cunt, Taehyun’s smirk grows, “and in denying yourself.” You bite your lip, unable to hide the fact that his lips on your own had spurred you on further than you’d liked to. 

“My, are you pretty”, he mumbles as his crimson eyes fixate on the way his fingers glide against your folds. His subtle comment has blood rushing to your face and had it not been for the way your core ached to be touched, you would’ve probably even been embarrassed at the remark. Squirming beneath him, your hips buck in an attempt to seek any kind of relief. Taehyun’s gaze snaps to your face, “you humans are far too greedy”, he snarls, “never satisfied with what they have, you always want more.” 

Your back arches off the cushion as he pushes two fingers inside of you. “Is that what you want?” He curls his fingers, brushing them against that small bundle of nerves that never failed to make you go cross eyed whenever you pleasured yourself. “To be ruined to bits by a vampire, reduced to nothing at my mercy?”

You meekly nod, struggling to keep your eyes open at the intense waves of pleasure that overflow your senses. Taehyun huffs, “I knew that your kind was pathetic, but this sure takes the price.” His words barely register, you’re too lost in the way his fingers move inside of you, thumb pressing up against your clit in a menacing way. 

When he suddenly pulls his hand away, you cry out in displeasure as your eyes shoot open in search of his. You find him already looking at you intently, his gaze unwavering as he watches the steady rise and fall of your chest, the way blood rushes beneath your skin, listening to the supple beating of your heart. 

His hand glides across the soft flesh of your thighs, “I need to taste you again”, he says, his voice strained and hoarse as his stare drops to your glistening folds. Before you have the time to register his words, his head is between your legs and you let out a small yelp at the feel of his cold breath hovering over your sensitive cunt. 

The idea of him, his mouth, his fangs, so close to such a sensitive part of you was terrifying in itself, yet you couldn’t find it in you to push him away. A low groan rumbles from deep within his chest as Taehyun drags his tongue along your slit, leaving you gasping as your nails dig into the cushion of the sofa. 

He pulls back for a moment, his eyes never leaving your core as he licks his lips, as if he focused entirely on the taste of you. Then, without warning he dives back in and your thigh twitches as his lips latch onto your clit. Hungrily, he sucks and laps at your cunt and you wondered how this man had been close to killing you just moments prior. 

Pathetic whines leave your lips as his tongue pushes inside of you, the tip of his nose rubbing against your clit. The harsh grip of his hands holds your thighs down as they threaten to close around his head. Moans and pleas fall from your lips but he pays them little mind, too focused on the way you taste, the way your body reacts to his touch. 

Your stomach draws into knots as you feel your orgasm approaching. Taehyun lets out a sound of contentment as he feels you clench around his tongue. “F-fuck…I’m..” your words are swallowed by the whine that leaves you as he pulls his head from between your legs, robbing you of the high that was just within your reach. 

“Again, you humans are consumed by your greed”, he tsk’s as he watches the way you squirm, pathetically chasing after your desired orgasm. He leans back on his knees as one of his hands frees his cock from his pants. “Patience”, he grunts as his pale hand glides along his shaft, “comes naturally when living for centuries. You humans only live to see a fragment of what I experience, yet you greedily take and take.” 

You swallow as your eyes shift from his intense gaze toward the hand wrapped around his cock. Like the rest of him, it was beautiful, flushed at the tip and slick with precum that spilled from the slit. Your cunt throbbed at the sight and you bit your lip in anticipation. Above you, Taehyun’s expression turns into a sneer, “do not think that I am here to fulfill your bottomless greed, human.” A small gasp leaves your lips as you feel the head of his cock pushing against your folds. 

With one harsh thrust, he buries himself deep inside of you, drawing a small shriek from you at the burning intrusion. Taehyun lets out a groan of satisfaction as his lips return to suck at the mark on your neck, the still fresh wound causing a throbbing pain to flare through your body, mixing with the feel of his cock deep inside of you. 

He moves slowly, taking his time to feel the way your body wrapped around him. The warmth of something so full of life entangled with the very epitome of death. The rapid beating of your heart against his unmoving one filling his senses. Your mind feels hazy and that familiar feeling of pleasure you had felt when he drained you of blood returned. With each slow thrust you felt him graze along every inch of you, the tip of his cock caressing the bundle of nerves that had you clenching around him. You had never felt so full before. 

His lips reconnect with yours, the taste of blood completely gone and now replaced by the remnants of your own fluids. And while it was certainly not something you had let previous partners do, it somehow felt right with him. Your hands loosen their grip on the cushion as they move across his body; the body you had longed to touch since he first appeared on your doorstep. 

Taehyun inhales against your lips as your warm fingers wander beneath his shirt and over his cold chest. Perhaps he was right, perhaps you were greedy, even on the brink of death you had let your desires consume you. But did it really matter? Your life was bound to end anyway. Once more, just once, you would let yourself be greedy. 

His hands glide across your body, squeezing and groping at every part of flesh he could access, relishing in how alive you felt, how your blood pulsated under his hands. Your legs move on their own, wrapping around his waist as you drew him in closer, making him groan into your mouth. 

He breaks the kiss to look at you, watching your eyes roll back in pleasure as your lips part in a silent moan. Cold fingers dig into your cheeks as he keeps your head in place. “Foolish human”, he grunts, “I could kill you right now.” His thumb pulls your bottom lip down, “either you are too dumb to even comprehend the danger of your situation, or you’re just too fucking desperate to care.” 

Without warning he pushes his thumb inside your mouth, you respond eagerly by swirling your tongue around it. “Considering the way your pussy so desperately sucks me in, I would assume the latter”, he sneers before pulling his thumb from your mouth, smearing your saliva across your lips and cheek. 

His thrusts grow ragged as he presses his lips against yours. You know that he’s close, and you were too, if only you could… Your hand slides between your bodies and down your stomach, but before reaching where you need it the most, cold fingers wrap around your wrist. “Stupid human”, Taehyun groans as yanks your hand away. 

The whine that escapes your lips is soon replaced by a soft gasp as his fingers circle your clit. Your legs around his waist tremble as you finish around his cock, a cry of pleasure emitting from deep within your throat as your nails dig into his arms whilst you continuously clench around him. 

Taehyun’s lips travel down your neck, licking over the previous bruises he’d left before hovering above the sensitive bite marks. You’ve barely come down from your high when you feel his hips stutter, the warm liquid that shoots up inside of you makes you completely unguarded for when his fangs re-pierce your neck.

The shock only lasts a moment as Taehyun rocks his hips into you, all the while he takes gulp after gulp of your blood. As you lay there panting, you think that you might just actually die, but then you feel him pull back, the sensation of his fangs withdrawing makes you shiver. 

His tongue drags across the punctures, licking up the very last droplet of blood before he leans back to look at you. Despite everything, you still thought he was the most beautiful thing you had ever seen. Even as thick blood coated his lips and chin, his uncanny and red eyes peering at you; contrasting his sickly pale skin, you found yourself in awe. 

Taehyun’s gaze shifts from your neck to your eyes, no matter how hard you tried; you couldn’t possibly decipher a single thought going through his head. “Perhaps there is more to you than just your pretty face, human”, he murmurs as his tongue swipes across his lips. 

“I intend to keep you.”

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[honestsycrets]

querido i: a reward of 2099 | outlaw!miguel o'hara x reader

❛ pairing | outlaw!miguel o'hara x reader

❛ type | doubleshot; chapter is safe for work.

❛ summary | it's been a long time since you've been with miguel o'hara. when your daughter gabriella finds his wanted poster, life starts to unravel.

❛ tags | mention of murder and minor character death, hidden pregnancy, western au, spanish not translated, outlaw!miguel, baby-mama!reader, slight cursing, angst, threats.

❛ sy's notes | here's to listening to the civil wars' devil backbone one too many times. i needed a break from filling most requests, so i only incorporated one very lightly in this piece.

“Mamá, 2099 is a strange amount for a reward, isn’t it?”

Your daughter was a mischievous girl just like her father. She tore down the poster that was tacked up on the homely post office’s bulletin board as you gathered the weekly post. Coming into town was always a bit of a laborious task. With goods to gather and a little girl to socialize, you made it into town once every week.

"Sure is," Jackson the postman said.

“Thank you,” you plucked mail from the man’s dark hands. “I’ll see you next week.”

He wore a warm, kind smile. Working in the post office, he always seemed to be well-versed in what was going on in everyone’s life. His coal-black eyes shone warmly at you.

“Take care now, there’s wild men out there. What with Peter gone and all, you sure you girls will be okay out there? Rio’d sure put up Gabi and you at the hostel.”

Gabi scrunched up her face tight like a screw being twisted into a board.

“That’s real sweet of you to worry but I’m sure we’ll be fine. We've been out there nine years now. I’ll see you next week, sí? ” You tucked your post into a basket that dangled on your elbow, pulling long and heavy skirts to avoid trampling them with your boots as you opened the door.

“See ya then!”

Gabriella stepped out first, pulling on your lace sleeves as a cue for her delayed answer. She wouldn’t butt into a conversation, but she always seemed to hold her questions for a better time. You sighed, looking at the pale wooden buildings. Saloon, feed store, bank, and the occasional hostel. Over the last decade, the town seemed to flourish, bringing all manner of people to your once tiny Spanish town.

“I suppose they didn’t wanna give the extra coin out, Gabi.”

She looked back to the paper in her hands.

“Wanted dead or alive. Notorious badman Miguel O’Hara, 38, native of Nueva… why that’s here, mama!”

Your blood chilled. Congealed even. The sun nearly blinded you, even with the hat that kept the hot sun off of your head. You stepped off the doorway and onto the dusty ground, spinning on your heel to face your little girl with your dark blue fan in your hands, waving the heat of the day off your flushed skin.

“Wanted for--”

You swiped the paper from her fingers.

“That’s about enough of that. We best get on our way, we got goods to buy, the undertaker to see, and a new dress to fit for your papá’s funeral.”

“I was just reading it. In case we see him?”

“We won’t. It’s been a time since he’s shown himself around these parts. You have no business looking at-- that kinda man. He’s a troublemaker. Now get in the cart, let’s not dolly around.”

You would know.

“O—okay, mamá.”

“I’m sorry, Gabi, I don't mean to yell. You’re all I got, preciosa,” you wedged the paper into a new bible, right next to your wooden rosary, and flung it into the basket.

"I know."

You started ahead of her, fussing with your white veil, sparing no expense to the many questions that she had that day. You had just as many questions as she did.

You just couldn’t articulate them to a grieving little girl.

Do you think it's a boy or girl? the seamstress asks a woman in her shop. She fashions all sorts of fashions from birth to death. Her store is stuffed to the brim with frilly and lacy baptismal dresses. Your gaze fell on her belly, tracing the curve.

"Una niña," she says. Her voice triggers something old, some ancient memory you've suppressed. His voice in your ear, a soft kiss on your head. You're sitting there, next to the little girl that he always wanted, haunted by the flood of memories that comes with looking at another woman's pregnant belly.

"You're not like the others. Aren't men supposed to want sons?" you teased him. Miguel snorted, his arm underneath your neck as he gazed up at a sky of glittering stars. The air was lightly warm, a light wind fluttering through the tall grass. Post-relation bliss was warm on his skin, peaceful and quiet.

"For what? Men are jealous of sons," he muttered, shifting his head to kiss the top of your head. "Little girls are... the light in their lives. I'm going to call mine Gabriella. You'd like that, wouldn't you?"

"That's a real pretty name."

"Sure is. ¿por qué?"

You didn't tell him why. That you hid a secret underneath the layers of your dress. A secret that you knew Miguel would have more than an issue with if he knew.

"Mamá?" Gabi shakes your arm, "Mamá we're next."

Your mind likes to pull mean tricks on you.

Wanted for double murder.

Miguel O’Hara was always somewhere between a hangman’s knot and three mouths to feed. For you, the latter. You were under no illusion of the sort of man Miguel was.

Every look at your daughter’s soft, peaceful face at night reminded you of him. You worried that the more she looked at posters of Miguel, peered into an artist’s rendition of Miguel’s slight, sultry eyes, lush lips, and strong jaw-- she might be able to locate the similarities when she looked at herself. That was why you had to take the flyer from her. The artist sure had a fine hand at drawing him, the man who danced in your dreams by a warm fire and stayed up late counting the stars. He’s gotten thicker, you thought. You sat on the rocking chair as she slept peacefully, rocking back and forth on the chair.

A violent knocking at the front door swept you free from your thoughts. You snatched up the silver lantern, yanked a fine ivory rebozo over your shoulders, and rushed down the stairs. The booming knocking became louder, more urgent. The movement was mechanical, with no husband to answer the door for you, you checked the window first. The man who stood there was not a man you’d want to see. Not now, not back then. He had a wicked face that sat beneath a wide-brimmed hat that obscured the balding spot on top of his head.

God, not him. He was obsessed.

“Buenas noches, Doña O’Hara,” he peeped into the window.

“Bendito, don’t call me that,” you rushed out, the heavy wooden door slamming to a close behind you. “I’ve told you already, he is not here.”

“And I don’t believe you. First, your man-loving husband dies. Next, sightings of Miguel a town over. ¿Qué piensas? Hm? What comes after that?”

“My husband was trampled, Aaron. By a bull. He was a hard-working man who worked with violent cattle. These accidents happen. Why don’t you ask the undertaker?”

He wouldn’t. Although you don’t think Aaron is a complete idiot, he surely has his own motivations for which leads to follow and which leads to ignore. Your husband’s death was one of them.

“I’ll tell you what comes next. You come next. It’s only logical that he would come back to you. You have his daughter and all. Or… does he not know about that? I seem to recall him running out of here like a bat outta hell.”

“You’ve checked my property three times. Barn, basement, home. It’s been nine years, Aaron. Gloria a Dios, he’s probably remarried and forgotten me by now.”

“Not according to my reports.”

You hate the twinge of delight that comes from that admission. Your cheeks warm with blood, highlighting the rouge that sits across your cheeks. He chuckles caustically at how easily it shuts you up. Aaron takes a step forward, his deep leather boots creaking along the aged floorboards.

“What’d you want me to do with that information?”

“If he comes to see you, and I know he will,” he reached out for your chin. Your hand connects with his, shoving him back. “Tell me. You know, it’s a crime to kill another man without good cause.”

“You wanna catch Miguel for your own reasons, Aaron. Don’t bring none of that holier-than-thou bullshit to my footstep.”

“She can curse,” he laughs again. “Here I thought you were a good Christian woman.”

“Don’t try me,” He tries to corral you against the door. You flip your skirts up, his eyes following the motion. You seize the handgun strapped to your thigh, threatening to pull it on him. Aaron slides back, holding his calloused hands up. "Get off my property."

“I’m just saying. If you see him, you know where to find me. Who knows, you and I could work a lil something out.”

Even if you knew where he was, you would be hard-pressed to turn him into Aaron Delgado. You knew Miguel O’Hara would kill him. So, really, it was for his good. You watched him beat down the squeaky steps and mount his horse, fading into the distance of dark, twinkly stars. You probably shouldn’t be praying that robbers got ahold of him.

But only Diosito could judge you for that.

You dipped down to pick the lantern up, stepping off the steps to ensure that he was not just off your property, but properly gone. Then, seeing him set off toward town, you gazed up at the deep night sky. It was littered with an abundance of stars, massive and twinkling brilliantly. Miguel’s favorite constellations shone brightly in the sky. The Anglo called it-- Orion’s belt. Around here, it was named for the hunter: the deer, the pronghorn, and the sheep. You count each of the stars on your way back indoors to sleep in your empty bed.

You prayed Aaron’s hunt would be fruitless that night.

With your husband's untimely death came several complex decisions. Namely, what to do with his cattle hands and the animals under your care. You were fortunate enough to have support from the community in caring for the cattle, but you knew human affection did not last forever. You could sell his property at a scam of a price as a woman or you could keep it and work bitterly on the farm.

Or, as Aaron suggested today in the cover of concern, you could remarry yet again. It was nearly the only good option. Working wasn’t sustainable when you had a little girl to raise and a whole host of children to teach, as you always had. It would be nearly impossible to find someone like your dearly departed husband who knew your situation and couldn’t care less about it.

It’s good for a lil girl to have a father, he says. You know that-- but Aaron should be no one’s father. Not Gabriella’s. Miguel would’ve never approved. Neither did you.

You loosened beads of sweat from your hair as you returned inside, the ends of your skirt matted with dust. Gabriella would return home from school soon and you were fully intent on feeding her a slice of fresh peach pie.

You made your way into your home, your boots between your fingers. The smell of a smoky hearth piqued your attention. It didn’t arise from your great big wood stove that sat against the wall, ready to cook fresh tortillas, but the sort of hearth settled in the deep outdoors.

“Dios mío.”

Miguel sat there, plain as a field flower. His fingers tapped over the heavy wooden table, rolling in succession. He’s older than you remember-- jaw peppered with dark facial hair, his hair dark and wild, set away from his kind eyes that caught yours as quickly as you caught his. You dropped your boots at your feet, backing up once, twice.

“Don’t run, you won't get far,” his voice trilled, low and warm. Beside his sombrero on the table sat a thick rope and his gun, you don’t want to know which one he was planning to use today. His head twisted, a mused smile growing on his face. “You look so surprised, amor. You had to know I was coming.”

The nickname cut more than it used to. You had not been someone’s amor in a very long time. Married strictly by the weight of paper, you don’t exactly recall what the fleeting emotion of love felt like. Wisps of it licked a dead flame to life in your stomach.

“Miguel.”

“You look gorgeous,” Miguel hummed, turning his impossibly broad arms one over the other. You don’t remember him being this thick. He lurches onto his leather boots, taking a few practiced steps closer. Brilliant, you think, you’ve languished years thinking of this moment just to smell of sweat and cow shit. You suppose he’s smelled worse as an outlaw, a name that doesn’t quite fit the handsome man before you.

“You were always a bad liar.”

“Look, not smell.”

“My point stands,” you say.

Your normally practiced updo has gone frizzy, bits of hair escaping the clips that kept it flat against your head. Miguel’s eyes flickered over the strands, then down to your skin flush with blood and exhaustion.

“Mine too.”

You stared at him a moment longer before you found yourself laughing, just a light-- a small thing that you had failed to do over the past week. His death, and the subsequent funeral, was all too miserable. Now he was here and for a moment, just a brief thing, everything didn’t feel so earth-shatteringly dire.

He cracks a smile, drawing his hand to your flyaways, soothing it down against your head. You should be more angry at him-- settling you with a baby like he did and disappearing into the long grass with Widow and not a word more.

“I missed you,” you said quietly. His hand falls away from your head, drifting past his dark blue vest, and hooking at the fat metal belt buckle. “Pero… why are you here?”

“I heard Peter passed,” he said in a practiced tone. “I was a few towns over. Seeing how he’s taken good care of you all these years, I dropped in to say my dues to him. Came to see my girl too.”

The grief may not be readable in his eyes, but you know he’s practiced it in the same way you did for your Gabriella. Her only daddy was gone, deep in the cold earth. His words echoed in your ears, cutting through your grief bright and resonant. You wonder if he knew, but logically, you knew he couldn’t. Miguel always wanted to be a father.

“Who’d that be?”

“You,” Miguel turns your name over, making your name sound beautiful and light on his tongue. It’s sweet, like the peach pie cooling in your aged windows.

“After all these years?"

"Claro."

"You... shouldn't be here. You’re a wanted man,” you said. “Aaron is looking for you. You know that, right?”

“He's nothing to be concerned about.” Miguel shrugged off your suggestion. "I'm only wanted in these parts."

“Where else is there?” you said

“Out West. South. You take your pick,” Miguel lifted his hand, tracing your parched lower lip. “It don't matter to me. I seen all manner of places, like it here more than anywhere.”

"There's nothing here."

"Nothing but you."

You felt your stomach swoop, a delight filling it better than any meal you’d had. You parted your lips to say something else, to find a response that would fit-- to tell him the truth. But he left you then, came back when something fit better than the road. You wonder what fortune he must have made on the road that he’d come back. His hand caressed your cheek, rubbing it as if to soothe you. It didn’t.

“You think you can just go and come back like nothing happened? After what you did?”

The front door squeaked, dragging with a long hiss. Miguel peered over your shoulder as if it were instinctual, his hand snapping to the gun on his hip. You stopped him short of seizing his handgun. Gabriella bobbed in, closing the door tightly shut behind her. She wore a plain blue dress, fine ribbon braided in the updo she had on that day. She takes a few short steps forward before realizing who you were talking to.

“Mamá, I’m home!” she gasped. “That’s the man in the— in the flyer mamá--”

“Gabi go to your room.”

“I’m not--”

“Gabriella,” your voice went soft but stern. Nearly apologetic. You had been so hard on her lately. Miguel’s eyes dropped from Gabriella’s huge, doe-like eyes to her nose, then lips. His eyes sharpened, whipping back to look at you. “Por mí, okay? He won’t hurt me. Te prometo.”

She darted up the many steps to her room.

"Gabriella?" He stared at you uncomprehendingly. He quickly goes quiet, searching your eyes for something. You worry that he’s found the truth, your breath light as you walked over to your wooden stove, checking the flame and setting a pot of water that you brought from a nearby creek to bathe with. He follows you to the stove.

“My daughter is home. You should go,” you remarked, less of a command than a meek statement, floundering on your lips at the end. As delightful as it sounded, running off into some other territory, town, or world with Miguel-- it was unfeasible and irresponsible to be with a man whose name was stapled on the bulletin boards towns over.

“How old is she?”

"That's none of your business." Your outlaw hovers over you, absorbing the space, a bundle of heavy muscle and rage that plumes off his skin like the smell of sweat on your skin. It’s almost as if he can smell the regret seeping off your skin, despite knowing you couldn’t have done anything differently. No one told him and you could not reach him. Whatever the reason he stayed away, you were not the one he reached out to for updates.

“Tell me,” he growls, waves of anger causing his voice to shake. The tone is heartless, empty of the nights together, of slipping off with the old cattle hand at night and day, in the barn and the field. You’re stuck in the memory of your lovemaking with your vaquero, now your outlaw man. You missed him.

“Don’t do this. She could be listening.” You pad away from the stove to the window with the hope that he wouldn’t follow. He backs you up into the wall, his calloused hands so tight on his belt that you could draw lines of tension through his veins.

“You're not telling me because she’s mine,” he’s whispering, the words going through your chest, fizzling out into terrible pain. He reaches out, squeezing your hips to keep you put. Miguel leans into your space and buries you in his overwhelming scent.

“What do you want me to say?” you stare at his prominent muscles, the shift that is thrown open to expose his skin. He cups your jaw and throat with his large hand, forcing you to confront the truth. Your eyes blink closed, bits of tears dripping there. Miguel doesn’t have the patience for pity, or empathy, whichever the two you were looking for right then.

“I want you to tell me the truth. It's not hard.”

“Me telling you the truth changes a whole lot of nothing. You're putting her life at risk just being here. You're an outlaw,” you say, trying his rapidly evaporating patience. "You got a bounty on your head."

"It changes it all," he shoves you back into the window, a choked cry slipping from your throat. He doesn’t mean to hurt you, he meant to have the truth. Distantly, you were aware of Gabriella’s feet beating down the steps. You’re relatively certain she’d never gone all the way up to her room. In this creaky house you would have heard her door shut, the floorboards bounce. In either case, there’s no point running away from what you both know to be true.

“Sí, she’s your daughter,” you mustered the words in a bid to get it over with. Miguel always had to get his way. “Now what?”

Miguel flicked a look over his shoulder, marked by the heavy drag of his weighted firearm skidding across the wooden table. A life on the run will do that. Gabriella’s tiny hands slipped around his handgun.

“That ain't true!”

“Gabriella,” you cut her short. “Gabi, bebe, put that down.”

Miguel took a step back, pulling his head back slightly as you shifted in front of him. Her tiny head shook, over and over, tears pricking her bright brown eyes. You fooled yourself into thinking that she wouldn’t listen-- because your Gabi was a good girl. A wonderful good girl who liked nothing more but running in the field with the boys and brightly colored ribbons laced into her braids. She was also a mischievous girl who had been trying really, really hard to be good for you this week. Children had their limits.

“My papá is dead,” she said, her fingers trembling about the thing. Miguel’s head tilted in response, expecting you to take care of it. “His name was Peter and-- he liked sunsets and fluffy chocolate calves and--”

“Badly made blankets,” Miguel said lowly. Gabi lowered the gun, slowly, just an inch or two. “Shorn fabrics, uneven stitching, ugly colors.”

“He liked to make you smile-- be helpful,” he added. You snapped to look at Miguel as he rose his hand to his hips, gazing at the floor and rocking. He waits another moment, noting how Gabriella’s head nodded, rubbing away the tears that dripped off the corner of her eyes with her shoulder. She set the gun down on the table.

“You knew my papá?” she turns her arms one over another. “How?”

“He was my friend.”

“Mamá?” she looked toward you, seeking an answer from someone who wasn’t a face on a wanted paper with a reward of 2099 dollars.

“Peter was your papá but-- Miguel is your padre, mija,” you breathed hard, exhausted from years of suppression. She looks at you, not used to this level of betrayal. Her eyes are distant, somewhere in her tiny memories. She whips around and runs out the back door. Miguel turns his eye out the window, her tiny body disappearing into the deep green fields. The sun blinds your eyes as you look out to the fields full of cattle. He reaches for his rope and gun, settling them in their respective places.

“¡Déjala! She needs time alone.”

He heads out the backdoor. He never did listen well.

[flowerandblood]

The Song of Songs

The Gate of Salvation Universe Oneshot

[ young pope • Aemond x catholic • female ]

[ warnings: soft sex content, fingering, masturbation, smut, sexual tension, anxiety, doubts related to faith, religious guilt ]

[ description: Her relationship with the Pope becomes more than complicated, especially since it looks like he has no intention of giving up on her or their relationship. His efforts lead to her being assigned a special room in the Vatican, where he visits her at night. Main theme: sexual tension & holy touch. ]

This oneshot is the events that take place a few months after The Gate of Salvation. This is a special chapter written to celebrate my one year on this platform, which falls on March 22. I used fragments from the biblical Song of Songs, hence the title oneshot. I recommend everyone to read it, it is the most erotic and at the same time one of the most poetic and beautiful parts of the Bible.

Next: Death and Ressurection (Oneshot)

Aemond as a Pope Edit Series Characters Moodboard Aemond NSFW Alphabet

* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *

My other works: Masterlist

_____

She was not sure how her presence in the Vatican had become her daily routine, spending more time in the quarters surrounding St Peter's Basilica than in her flat.

Although she tried to protest, the Pope personally made sure that a room was prepared for her to sleep in the private part of the complex reserved for guests. She knew he was still adding to her workload just to make sure she stayed there overnight.

At first, he visited her sporadically, saying he couldn't sleep – he came to her room and spoke about his thoughts, doubts, premonitions, seeking her advice on spiritual and everyday matters.

She listened to him sitting on her bed, not knowing what she should do, how to respond – his worries as Pope were something incomprehensible to her, something she had never thought about before.

Only later did she realise that he did not expect her to solve his complicated problems.

She was his solution.

He only showed her what he really needed later, when he sat down next to her, when he touched her cheek, brushing it with his fingers – his gaze was dreamy, warm, full of tenderness, making her feel hot in her lower abdomen, a shiver running down her back.

"– my sweet flower –" He whispered softly and she drifted off completely, closing her eyes, focusing on the wonderful touch of his hand, her heart pounding hard as his forehead pressed against hers, his shaky breath enveloping her face.

Her fingers found his cheek, his jaw, his hair and his neck, she heard him sigh softly as he wrapped his arm around her waist, pulling her closer.

"I need you." He whispered.

She could hear how hard it was for him to get those words out – a shy moan escaped her lips as his mouth found hers in a tentative, soft, sticky kiss, her body responding to his closeness with an embarrassing wetness between her thighs.

His kisses became bolder, louder, stickier with his saliva, his warm breath mingling with hers in her throat, his scent filling her entire lungs as he lay on his side, pulling her onto the bed with him.

After what was happening between them at night, he usually needed a day or two to calm down, overwhelmed by how intense their closeness was.

He risked a lot when he started sneaking into her room more often, strolling through the dark marble-lined corridors dressed in his snow-white tracksuit with his hood over his head – he ended up at her door, and fearing that someone would see him, she always let him in, helpless.

"You shouldn't sleep here, Holy Father. What if someone catches us?" She muttered, looking at him pleadingly, already wearing her pyjamas, the same ones she had worn when he had visited her in her flat for the first time.

He looked at her, surprised, pulling the hood off his head, combing his short hair with a careless flick of his hand.

"Do not fret, child. Have faith. God is watching over us." He replied calmly, putting his phone down on her nightstand, pulling his white sneakers off his feet, slipping under her duvet as he did every time he visited her, intending to fall asleep in her bed.

She felt both heat and fear at the sight, swallowing hard as he reached over to the bedside lamp and turned off the light, acting as if this was his room and what he was doing was perfectly normal and ordinary.

She moved uncertainly towards him, knowing there was no point in resisting him and lay down next to him on the bed, sighing quietly as his arm immediately embraced her, snuggling her into his chest.

"− did you say your evening prayer? −" He asked in a whisper, a wonderful, hot shiver ran through her entire body as the tips of his fingers began to comb through her soft hair.

"− yes, Holy Father −" She muttered, feeling that she was losing the battle with herself as she did every time – his closeness, his scent, his voice were addictive to her. Involuntarily her fingers tightened on the material of his sweatshirt at his back, her face snuggled into him, seeking refuge.

"− good − sleep −" He murmured, his lips placing a warm, soft kiss on her hair.

She sighed quietly, twisting in her place, feeling how at the sound of his voice and his tender touch her walls clenched tightly, already sticky with her wetness.

It had been two days since he last visited her.

He forbade her to touch herself, saying it was a sin.

She closed her eyes and tried to comply with his request, but she couldn't calm down, feeling his heart pounding fast, his manhood in his sweatpants twitching once in a while, pushing softly against her stomach, making her involuntarily start to rub against him.

"− I'm sorry −" She whispered helplessly in a voice full of shame and he kissed her forehead. His hand immediately slipped under the material of her shorts, running tentatively over her soft buttock before his fingertips found her hot, puffy womanhood, sticky with her moisture.

"− I have obeyed you, Holy Father − I swear −" She mumbled regretfully, panting quietly into his sweatshirt, rolling her hips in rhythm with the strokes of his fingers, already experienced in how and where he should squeeze her to give her the greatest pleasure. She heard him gasp as she spread her thighs wider, the tips of his fingers beginning to dig into the fleshy structure around her clit with her sweet cry of pleasure.

"− I know, sweet child − I am with you − I will reward your suffering −" He whispered in a low, deep, trembling voice from which a shiver ran along her spine. She clenched her eyes shut, holding back a sob as two of his fingers finally made their way inside her, stretching her throbbing, wet muscles painfully slowly − she clasped her fingers against his back, rising and falling against it with a loud click, feeling that his manhood was already fully hard, throbbing impatiently in his sweatpants.

"− let me, please −" She mumbled pleadingly, lifting her face towards him, his tongue slipping between her lips as she heard his quiet, tender shhh, joining her in a hot, thirsty, sticky kiss.

Even though she begged him to let her relieve himself, to touch his manhood with her hand or lips, he never let her.

He felt that he could not bear the remorse caused by the thought that she had contributed to his sin, that as long as he was the only one touching her, she was not as guilty as he was, and though she disagreed, knowing that she wanted it as much as he did, she tried to respect his decision, to poor effect.

She squirmed loudly as he swapped two of his fingers for his thumb, with which he pressed a little spot inside her, his middle and index finger brushing her bud again, teasing her encouragingly.

She felt like her heart was going to jump out of her chest, a helpless whine escaped her lips, his free hand sinking into her hair.

"− please, let me, please, please, please −" She begged, feeling her tears begin to run down her cheeks − she heard him draw in the air loudly, involuntarily pressing his length against her stomach, rubbing against her, searching for any source of relief – his thumb thrusted deeper into her wonderful spot, making her cry loudly into his mouth, his slick tongue deep inside her throat.

"− I can't − God, I can't, my sweetest −" He gasped, heartbroken, his kisses greedy, full of pleasure, of suffering, of desire, of affection, of tenderness, full of their teeth, their tongues, their lips and their saliva.

She had the feeling he wanted to devour her, her wetness dripping down his hand, her walls beginning to tighten around his thumb, sucking it inside.

"− Holy Father −" She mumbled out with difficulty, hearing that he was panting and moaning along with her, holding her close, his hand pressed against her womanhood as she tilted her head back, moaning in fulfillment, his lips kissing again and again her red, tear-drenched cheeks.

"− I love you − I love you, I love you, I love you −" He whispered in a trembling voice, his hand slid down to her buttock and clamped down on it, pushing her closer, his hips rubbing hungrily against her, trying to chase his own fulfilment. She threw her arms around his neck, joining him in a kiss − he murmured into her mouth in delight, pulling away from her after a moment, looking at her with dreamy eyes.

"− please −" He whispered, stroking her cheek with his shaking hand, her fingers immediately beginning to undo the buttons of her shirt, revealing merely part of her naked body, not uncovering her breasts.

He groaned helplessly at this sight, pressing his forehead against hers, looking down at her exposed skin – she threw her thigh against his waist, responding to the rocking of his hips, and he gasped loudly, turning onto his back with her, his fingers trailing over her sternum down her bare stomach.

"− please − please, please, please −" He breathed out again and tilted his head back with a loud sigh as she began to rub against him, rolling her hips back and forth, his throbbing, swollen cock hidden under the thin material of his sweatpants, leaking already with his precum between her thighs, his fingers tightened on her buttocks forcing her to speed up.

"− say it −" He muttered, and she moaned softly, feeling how her hard, popping nipples begin to peek through from under the material of her shirt, betraying her arousal, her insides clenched at his request in pleasure, all moist from her fulfilment.

"− I am yours, Holy Father − both now on earth and after death in heaven −" She whispered sweetly – she saw his lips part in a low groan as she grasped his wrist, guiding it to her plump breast, exposing it with a movement of her shoulder and immediately covering it with his hand – his fingers clenched greedily on her delicate skin, making her merely moan as she felt his cock begin to twitch and throb beneath her in pleasure.

"− so soft − so beautiful −" He mumbled, lifting himself into a sitting position, his free hand sinking into her hair, the other squeezing her breast, not even for a moment exposing her, his lips swollen with desire sunk into hers, his hips rubbing against her more and more intensely with his throaty groan of desire.

He wanted to come so badly.

He never asked her for it out loud, but she could see it in his gaze as he pressed his forehead against hers, panting loudly, that pleading, ashamed, misty look asking for relief.

She lifted herself slightly then, slipping the material of her shorts off her legs with difficulty, his eyes fixed on her face the whole time as he lowered the material of his sweatpants with his lips spread open at the same time.

"− don't look − come here −" He gasped, pulling her back, groaning loudly as her leaking womanhood pressed against his naked body, his swollen, hard cock throbbing all over and twitching between her thighs, dripping with his precum. The tip of his nose sunk into her cheek as he placed his hands on her naked waist, rocking his hips back and forth, his manhood rubbing against her slick folds.

"− good God − you are so devoted to our Lord, are you not? − always so wet for me −" He exhaled delightedly, speeding up, his lips pressed to her chest, kissing her bare, smooth skin between her breasts, between which hung a small gold cross, a gift from him, which she now wore instead of the one from her grandfather, so that he could have the feeling that a part of him was always with her, touching her naked body.

He never looked down, focusing only on the sense of touch, not wanting to deprive her or himself of their intimacy, to sin by thinking of physicality instead of the spirituality he found in this act of union with her.

"− yes −" She mumbled out with difficulty, responding by bucking her hips to his movements, teasing and squeezing him so that she could hear the loud, sticky click of her own moisture from which they both quickened their pace. Her fingers clamped in his hair, hugging him tighter into her, his fingertips digging into her buttocks, each of his strokes rubbing her clit, making her walls begin to throb wonderfully inside her again.

"− if only I were your husband − if only I could − I'd fuck you every day, morning and evening − after prayer −" He added, as if this was an essential part of that fantasy – she tilted her head back, whimpering with pleasure, his hands sliding lower, between his and her thighs. The thumb of one of them began to brush her clit in circular, sure strokes, and the other grasped his manhood, using her moisture as lube − she heard him squeeze himself with a sticky splats, panting loudly, his face pressed against her chest.

"− Holy Father − so good − ah −" She babbled with difficulty, completely absorbed in her own pleasure and his closeness, rising slightly on her knees. She saw him look at her with horror and desire as she positioned herself over the leaking tip of his manhood, but not looking down, resting her hand on his shoulder for balance, letting its fat, pink head push against her fleshy, hot slit.

"− ah − n-no − please − oh fuck − don't stop −" He breathed out, simultaneously trying to escape and thrusting his length deeper between her moist, slick folds, as always trying to fight with himself, to no avail, his swollen manhood was already halfway in, throbbing like mad.

She pressed her forehead against his with soft moan of delight, closing her eyes, focusing only on the fact that she felt him, that he desired her, that he was loosing his mind because of her.

Once he was deep inside her, his fingers involuntarily dug into the plump skin of her buttocks, shudders of pleasure and disbelief ran through her every time he slammed into her quickly and confidently with greedy, desperate smacks of his hips, unable to contain himself, surrendering to the euphoria that was overtaking them both.

"− God − so tight − so warm − fuckk −" He babbled, opening her wide on his fat cock with each thrust of his hips – she felt every vein on his thick manhood perfectly, every twitch of it, ashamed of how lewd her moans were, how greedily her walls squeezed him and sucked him in, wanting to keep him inside her.

"− please, please, please, save me −" She mewled sinking up and down on his throbbing length, at the mere feeling of him inside her stretching her fleshy muscles so wonderfully, uniting with her in that final way she came again, tilting her head back with a sweet, surprised cry of pleasure.

She heard his loud, throaty groan when he heard her words and felt her fulfilment on his erection, her moisture running down her thighs – as usual when he felt his was close he slid out of her quickly, cumming into his own hand with a loud sigh of relief that shook his body.

As always his orgasm made tears of pleasure, regret, delight and shame run down his cheeks, which she wiped away quickly leaning over him, snuggling into him, panting loudly, his clean hand immediately embracing her, stroking her back.

She grasped his other wrist, feeling him resist her, wanting to raise his hand higher, to her lips.

"− n-no − stop − it's dirty −" He mumbled through tears, sniffing loudly and sighed, simultaneously heartbroken, helpless and enchanted when she slid his fingers, sticky with his semen deep into her mouth.

"− we have already discussed this − wasting it is a sin, Holy Father − is it not? −" She gasped between flicks of her moist tongue − she heard him swallow hard, looking at her as if charmed, letting her lick his pearly, sticky liquid off his naked skin.

"− I shouldn't − you don't have to −" He began in a trembling voice, watching closely her treatments, unable to look away from this perverted sight.

"− I want to −" She hummed softly, kissing his already clean hand tenderly, smelling of his fulfilment and her saliva; she leaned towards him, hugging her face to his, their hands stroking each other reassuringly.

"− you are the love of my life −" She whispered in his ear, and he sighed quietly – despite the fact that she had repeated it to him so often, he still clearly did not believe that it was true, that she reciprocated his feelings, that she was not disgusted by him, that she had no intention of deceiving or abandoning him.

"− will you forgive me? −" He muttered, and she smiled softly, pressing her face against his hot cheek.

"− I'll forgive you if you forgive me −" She hummed tenderly, hearing him swallow hard.

"− I forgive you, sweet flower −"

"− and I forgive you, Your Holiness −"

She felt him slowly begin to calm down − he wiped his cheeks and she slid off his thighs, quickly putting on her shorts as he headed for her bathroom, locking himself inside to get himself cleaned up.

When he came out he was still quivering.

It seemed to her that the experience of fulfilment was something almost frightening for him, even more so with her when he obviously loved her so dearly.

She reached out her arms to him and he snuggled into her like a small child, pressing his face against her bare skin between her breasts – he took a heavy breath, focusing on her hand that covered them tightly with the duvet, then began to stroke his hair with the calm, tender brushes of her fingers.

"Until I met you, I did not understand the Songs of Songs written down by King Solomon. I couldn't get through them, considering them to be sinful texts. I didn't know how they could be part of the Bible. But now I understand. You are my beloved. My bride." He whispered, and she felt a squeeze in her throat at his words, recalling the lyrics of these poems, so filled with metaphors of physical affection that it seemed like a book made for lovers.

How beautiful you are, my darling!     Oh, how beautiful!    Your breasts are like two fawns,     like twin fawns of a gazelle     that browse among the lilies.  You are altogether beautiful, my darling;     there is no flaw in you.

You have stolen my heart, my sister, my bride;     you have stolen my heart with one glance of your eyes,     with one jewel of your necklace. How delightful is your love, my sister, my bride!     How much more pleasing is your love than wine, and the fragrance of your perfume     more than any spice!

Your lips drop sweetness as the honeycomb, my bride;     milk and honey are under your tongue. The fragrance of your garments     is like the fragrance of Lebanon. You are a garden locked up, my sister, my bride;     you are a spring enclosed, a sealed fountain.

"That would make you my beloved, Holy Father." She whispered quietly, gently brushing his hair with her fingers, feeling how quickly her heart began to pound at this shameless confession.

She heard him hum under his breath, delighted, moving his lips over her bare skin, kissing tentatively a small part of her soft, plump, exposed breast.

"Indeed. I have never felt the presence of God so much as when I am with you. Inside you. When I kiss your naked body. I think then: God must exist, since He has placed such a perfect being before me to be my joy and comfort." He muttered, his lips leaving again and again the sticky, warm trail of his mouth on the bare skin of her breast.

"This is my heaven on earth." He whispered into her warm skin, running his large hand down her back under the material of her shirt, and she smiled at his words, for some reason fulfilled and happy.

"As is mine."

[hamliet]

Hazbin Hotel Has Better Theology Than Most Modern "Christian" Stories

As a Christian who was raised in a fundie cult and escaped to now have a far healthier and vital faith, I genuinely really like this show. The songs are bops. The characters are well crafted and interesting, and likable too. The art design is bizarre but appealing.

And, as a theology nerd who studied theology as part leaving said cult and also has since gotten papers published in theology, I'm actually fairly impressed by the show's handling of theology.

No, I'm not expecting the story to preach or even like, be explicitly Christian in a lot of ways. But it's taking a lot of the really beautiful aspects of Christian theology and re-contextualizing them in a way designed to provoke thought: by juxtaposing them with the antithesis of what you would think, by making demons heroes. In my opinion, this makes the beauty shine brighter.

Yeah, yeah, it's designed to be offensive and obscene in a lot of ways. Yet, it's never (thus far) mean-spirited. On the contrary, it seems to have a big, beating heart at its core that is perhaps best embodied by Charlie Morningstar, its protagonist and the daughter of Lucifer and Lilith.

Critique of the Church, with Caveats

The story works best with an interpretation that heaven isn't actually heaven or God (who has been conspicuously absent), but instead as a critique of the church. Specifically, the evangelical American church, and specifically, white evangelicals. (Same as She-Ra's premise, actually).

God's absence therefore makes sense, because while Christians do believe God is present as a living reality among us, we also can't like, see him physically now. So, God being not even mentioned in HH makes it seem more like a mortal reality rather than an immortal one. Honestly I kinda hope God doesn't appear in the story, not only because I think it could cross some lines (which is admittedly personal), but also because I don't see that the story really needs it.

Adam in particular reminds me of every "theobro" on Twitter (I'm not calling it what you want me to, El*n). Basically a dudebro coopting his supposed salvation to flex in an often misogynistic way, who doesn't realize that he has absolutely no love in him and therefore is actually a worse human being than everyone he condemns on the regular.

(Which is kind of why I'm expecting Adam to wake up in hell next season...)

Think red hats. And Mark Driscoll. And, I have a list of pastors. Sigh. They advocate for how "simple" Christianity is, except they themselves make it ridiculously complicated and don't even examine what they suppose is "simple" if it requires them to take the planks out of their own eyes. "Shallow" is a better description of what they actually preach.

But what sends people to hell or heaven anyways?

Eschatology and Atonement Theory

Hazbin Hotel combines a lot of theories, throwing not only the idea of a physical hell (albeit mixed with Dante's idea of what hell is the Inferno, but to be fair a lot of the church has adopted that idea too) but the idea of annihilation, which HH calls "extermination."

See, in Christianity, there's a lot of debate about hell. Like, since 2000 years ago. The reason is because a lot of Bible verses seem to indicate hell, but others indicate the eventual redemption and salvation of absolutely everything in the universe, so you have Christian universalism tracing itself back just as long. But, setting aside universalism, people who do believe in hell tend to fall into one of two camps:

Physical hell, aka suffering for eternity, or annihilation: the idea that souls that aren't saved end up annihilated, or snuffed from existence. HH combines both of them, wherein everyone lives in hell but then every so often heaven "exterminates" a certain number of sinners.

And then you also have Catholic purgatory, which is also adapted in HH in that... for most Christians, physical hell doesn't offer the ability to redeem yourself. Chance over, you're dead. But, Catholic Christianity, which draws on ideas of praying for the dead, has the idea that people can improve themselves or be prayed out of it and into heaven. This seems to be somewhat similar to the idea of Charlie's hotel, in that sinners can improve, redeem themselves, and rise to heaven.

And, I mean, it's already kinda worked. Sir Pentious acted out Jesus' words: Greater love has no man than this, that he lay down his life for his friends (John 15:13).

But anyways, the branch of theology that deals with the afterlife is eschatology. And Hazbin Hotel takes on a related form of theology as well, a type of theology I've only seen covered in stories once before (The House in Fata Morgana): atonement theory.

Atonement theory is something I remember well from my theology 101 class, as in I remember sitting with a friend and her turning to me and being like, "okay, so we know Jesus' death and resurrection give us eternal life, but we have no idea how or why?" To which the answer was "basically, yeah."

Most of the white, American evangelical church is very "penal substitutionary atonement," but the reality is that this theory has only been popular for the past few hundred years. It's also, imo, somewhat scripturally unsound. But there are a lot of other theories, and sometimes the theories overlap. Here's a fairly decent summary. (I'm in general a believer in Christus Victor.)

So how does atonement theory tie into Hazbin Hotel? Well, essentially the scene where Charlie and Vaggie are debating with Emily, Sera, Adam, Lute, and others in heaven is them going over various atonement theories and realizing that they actually know nothing at all. How does one get to heaven? How is one saved? They don't know.

Sera criticizing Emily for asking questions was also very relatable, and I feel for Sera. She's genuinely scared but the truth will set you free, Sera. John 8:32. Anyways, the point is like... the angels are an organized religion, an evangelical church, that preaches about simplicity but mistakes shallowness for simplicity and discourages depth and discovery.

Anyways, the whole crux of theological study and atonement theories is that they should promote humility. We don't know for certain on this side of the curtain. That's okay. So what do we have to guide us?

Love. After all, God is love (1 John 4:8).

Charlie is Jesus

"Why would you endanger your immortal life for these sinners?" 

Adam, the absolute worst, says the above to Charlie in the finale.

I mean... look. That's literally the premise of Christianity. That the immortal son of God comes down to earth, lives with sinners, loves us, and dies to save us. However that happens. Charlie even responds:

"They're my family!"

In other words, she loves them. Yeah, sure, they're destined for extermination, but they are going to be exterminated over her dead body.

In a lot of branches of Christianity, and even in some creeds--though I'm going to give into my pet peeves here and state that it is NOT Scriptural and relies on the faulty assumption that God is bound by time, when I think God exists outside of it--state that Jesus descended into hell after his death and took all the souls of people who were saved prior to his coming to earth to heaven. Again, I think that's small-minded at best. But, the idea that Charlie is working among them to bring them to heaven is pretty reminiscent of this idea. And I don't hate it lol.

Charlie sees worth inherent in everyone, and no matter what they've done, thinks there's a future for them. Honestly we need people like her on this earth.

Angel Dust

Angel Dust is clearly my favorite character. Bite back your shock, I know (I have a type). But his name is also a fascinating multi-layered pun.

Angel is clearly foreshadowing his endgame. Let's be real, we all know Angel is ending up as an angel. And "angeldust" is of course a name for PCP, and considering Angel's drug habits, yeah.

But, dust also has another meaning to it. See, when Adam was created in Genesis 2:7, the words in Hebrew are "apar min ha'adamah," which is translated literally as "dust of the ground." So the dust is what creates Adam, literally "ground."

In other words, I very much expect Angel Dust to end up being foiled with Adam even more so. Adam might be the first man, but Angel is the first sinner working towards redemption. And let's be real, for all Angel's flaws, he's already a better person than Adam. And if there's any hope for Adam (not that I particularly care if there is but) it'd be through realizing that he and Angel aren't actually different after all. Conversely (and not necessarily mutually exclusively), Angel might serve as a more symbolic "adam" in that he becomes the person all sinners look to for hope. Which, y'know, since "the last Adam" is also a Scriptural term for Jesus...

And so it is written, “The first man Adam became a living being.” The last Adam became a life-giving spirit. (1 Corinthians 15:45).

I fully expect Angel's arc, alongside Charlie's, to bring life and redemption for everyone around them. Maybe, maybe even the dramatic "all" of Colossians 1:20 (which means, literally, all, everything, everywhere, in the entire universe).

Closing Thoughts

But honestly, regardless of how the story ends--besides that it will presumably end happily because HH is at its core feel-good despite being profane--season one at least has got good theology. Why? Because it's digging into the questions that theology is concerned with. It's digging into the ideas of human nature, of what it means to be a good person, of what it means to redeem oneself, of affirming how precious each individual human soul is.

It doesn't offer cheap answers, and it specifically calls out the white American evangelical church for how it purports to be simple but actually just confuses people and punishes them for things they can't help, that creates more stumbling blocks than it does shine a light. And it does it in a way that is scandalous. Offensive to many religious people.

But, y'know, Jesus was pretty scandalous too.

So I really love the story so far because it emphasizes what I find so beautiful about my religion, and criticizes the parts that have also hurt me. I don't think it's remotely aiming to be a Christian allegory or anything like that, and I don't at all think anyone has to be religious to enjoy it or gain the core message of it, but I do think that it's doing a hell of a lot more good in the world message-wise than most evangelical movies of the past 30 years.

[kwanisms]

The Library of Illusion — the Keeper of the Keys

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➮ vampire!Seonghwa × fem!Reader wc: 5.7k summary: Y/N finally has all 6 keys and returns to Seonghwa only to learn that not only does she now need his key but he's also much more than the man she thought he was. genres/themes/au: angst, smut; fantasy, supernatural, biblical & demonic; non idol au, vampire au warnings: adult dialogue, female reader, biblical & demonic themes, sexual content (18+ mdni), see smut warnings under the cut!

permanent taglist: @yoonguurt @wonderfulshinee @candidupped @dejavernon @violagoth @tigermoonbiss @katsukis1wife @luvsooby @thesolarplanetarysystem @salty-for-suga @devilsmatches @dmnspiit @simeonswhore @yangracha @seonghwalover @atinypurr @aikyubi @labyrinthonmymind @bintificreads @toxic-babexe @prestineaugstine

ateez taglist: @2hodefender @cixrosie @pyeonghongrie-main @flowerboykun @sanjoongie @anyamaris @stardragongalaxy @kpop-stories-21 @wooyoungmybelovedhusband @mlysalt @cinnamoon-belle @briannabk22 @is4b3ll3s @hyukssunflower @vampiirose @0325tiny @ateezstanforever @justiny @jeongwangjessmina @lacie220900 @aaaaajonghooooo @dementedaly @rangerobbie

special tags: @thelargefrye

join my taglists! Strikethrough means I cannot tag you. MINORS WILL BE BLACKLISTED & BLOCKED.

a/n: I hope you really like this second to last piece. Y/N's journey is almost over but we still have one part left. I'm gonna let this part speak for itself and as always, I love reading your feedback! Thank you so much for reading and a friendly reminder that this is a work of fiction and all characters are not reflective of their respective irl counterparts. for entertainment purposes only. Header and line breaks made by me. Content and support banners made by me with a template made by @cafekitsune. I do not allow reposts, translations, or continuations of my works. All my writings are ©️ kwanisms.

smut warnings: possessive!Hwa, jealous!Hwa, unprotected sex (wrap that shit), brief fingering (f receiving), rough sex, use of pet names (mainly Kitten), dom!Hwa, bloodplay, dubcon (Hwa's vampiric venom is an aphrodisiac, so technically Y/N is under the influence), slight brat!Reader, multiple rounds (multiple orgasms), cum inside, and I think that's all but of course, let me know if I missed anything!

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‘Am I too late?’

You spun around, eye scanning the room. “Seonghwa?” you called out, waiting for a response. You started looking around again, peering between the shelves. “Seonghwa, where are you?”

As you rounded the end of one of the bookshelves, you saw Seonghwa leaning against the desk. Your heart pounded as you let out a sigh of relief.

“Where were you?” you demanded as you walked up the steps to meet him. He looked you over before meeting your gaze. “I’ve been here,” he answered simply. You opened your mouth to retort but he cut you off.

“Were you successful?”

You narrowed your eyes before nodding towards the box. “Take a look.”

Seonghwa hesitated before turning to the box and lifting the lid to see the sixth and final key resting in its spot. A smirk spread across his face. “Perfect,” he said softly, letting the lid shut before turning to look at you.

“You’ve done exactly as asked,” he continued. “You should be congratulated.”

You nodded, a triumphant smile on your face. “Now I can finally leave this place,” you said, moving to grab the box. Seonghwa didn’t stop you as you lifted the heavy wood and carried it over to the final door under the orange glowing Restricted Section sign.

You hadn’t had the chance to see the door up close but now standing before it, you could see it was much different from the other doors. Each wooden door leading into the sections was plain, heavy wood. This door was the same heavy wood but it was carved.

The scene carved into the wood was like something out of the bible. What seemed to be the bowels of hell, full of fire and skeletons reaching up from the flames was front and center while above seemed to be a great chasm, complete with what looked to be demonic figures, laughing and dancing around the fire.

A chill crawled up your spine as you inspected the wood carving, looking it over slowly. “It’s gruesome, no?” Seonghwa called from behind you, making you turn to look back at him. “I’ve always thought it was a little too… ostentatious. Too showy,” he added before shrugging.

You turned back to the door and glanced below the carving where you noticed the six keyholes, spaced evenly under the scene. “So I just enter the keys?” you asked, raising your voice for Seonghwa to hear.

“Mhm,” he hummed. “Just insert the keys into each keyhole but don’t turn them yet. They have to all be in the keyholes simultaneously.” You glanced back at him before setting the wooden box on a ledge next to you and lifted the lid, looking down at the keys, each with their own insignias.

You glanced back at the door, at the carving. The insignias were present in the carving as your eyes scanned each figure bearing the insignia on its chest. ‘What the—’

“Time is of the essence,” Seonghwa called, interrupting your thoughts. “The longer you take, the smaller your window to escape becomes.” You nodded wordlessly and picked up the keys.

One by one, you inserted the keys into the corresponding holes using their insignias. Once all six were in, you turned to look at Seonghwa who motioned for you to turn the keys. “In the order you visited the section,” he added.

You did as he instructed, turning the science fiction key, followed by the one from the horror section, then the history key, the crime key, the fantasy key, and finally the adventure section key.

A series of clicks and mechanical mechanisms sounded behind the door and instead of the door opening a small slot above the six keys opened revealing another keyhole. “What the…” you trailed off, staring at the key.

You had been so preoccupied by turning the keys in the right order, you hadn’t noticed Seonghwa sneak up on you. “Oh would you look at that,” he whispered, peering over your shoulder and making you jump.

You looked back at him with wide eyes.

“Looks like you need another key.”

You looked back at the new keyhole. “Where am I supposed to get another…” your voice trailed off, turning slowly to look at Seonghwa who watched you with a smirk.

Was there something you were missing? Had you forgotten something along your journey? He had said there were six keys and you had six keys. Had he lied to you? Where were you supposed to get a seventh key.

Your eyes widened as a thought entered your head.

“You?” you whispered. Seonghwa tilted his head. “Me?” he asked curiously. “What about me?”

“Do… do you have a key?” you asked before it finally dawned on you. Of course he had a key. He was the Keeper of Keys after all. Like the reel of a film, you saw in your mind each time he pulled out a key to unlock the doors to each section.

Of course his key would be needed to get into the final section.

Narrowing your eyes, you turned full to face the Keeper.

“So, are you going to unlock this door for me or am I going to need to get your key from you?” you asked, crossing your arms over your chest. Seonghwa’s smile dropped. “Well,” he said nonchalantly. “I could open the door for you,” he said, pacing slowly in front of you.

“But where’s the fun in that?”

You sighed heavily. ‘Of course.’ You thought bitterly.

“So what do you want?”

Seonghwa turned to look at you with his dark eyes. “You’ve been through a lot,” he started. “Your body has been pushed to the limit,” he added. You nodded, hoping he would hurry up and explain faster since you already knew where this was going.

He had seen everything already. Every sexual encounter. Every minute detail. He’d seen it all. He knew what you’d done to get the keys and get to this point. There was no way he didn’t want in.

“You’ve been running a marathon that most could never imagine. And you’re at the finish line,” Seonghwa continued. “Now you just have to sprint the final lap.”

You rolled your eyes, tired of him beating around the bush. “Just get it over with and tell me what you want.”

Seonghwa was before you in an instant, hands against the door on either side of your head. “I want what everyone else has gotten,” he said softly, his tone dangerously low. “Which is?” you pressed as he leaned in, lips inches from yours.

“Satisfaction.”

The next moment, his lips were against yours and your hands moved up to tangle in his hair, your lips parting and allowing his tongue into your mouth with a groan.

Seonghwa pulled you from the door, never breaking the kiss as he backed you towards the stage in the center. Not wanting to make it easy for him, you pushed him against the nearest surface which happened to be a bookcase, the force causing a few books to topple from the shelves and to the floor.

You moaned into the kiss, making Seonghwa growl, pulling you back. “This might hurt,” he said softly, glancing from your eyes down to your neck and back up. You opened your lips to respond but the next second, Seonghwa had you pushed against the shelf, pressing into your back as he forced your head to the side, exposing your neck.

“What are you—”

You didn’t have a chance to finish your question before you felt sharp teeth sink into your skin, letting out a scream. You tried to push back against Seonghwa but he was clearly much stronger.

‘This whole time he was vampire? Well fuck,’ you thought as your body grew weak. ‘That’s not what I expected.’

You’d had your suspicions by now of what kind of creature Seonghwa was. You’d considered many things but vampire had not been among them.

Seonghwa finally let go, letting out a groan. Your body felt weak but there was something else under the haziness, something hot and tingling spreading through your veins. ‘What is this? What has he done to me?’

You felt Seonghwa back up from you and you tried to stand up straight but you were too weak, your knees buckling as you turned and you fell back into the shelf.

“What did you do to me?”

Your vision blurred as whatever had entered your system continued to spread, growing hotter and hotter until it settled in the pit of your stomach. “I couldn’t resist,” he started. “You just smelled so good. I needed a little taste.”

‘A taste? That confirms it. He is a vampire.’

You shook your head, trying to shake away the fuzziness. “It’s almost over,” you heard him whisper. He was back in front of you, pushing you against the shelf, holding your wrists above your head. “Just calm down.”

You tried to focus on your breathing but the heat in your stomach was starting to spread throughout your body. You were burning up. “Did you change me?” you asked incredulously. Seonghwa chuckled. “No,” he answered.

“But when I bite,” he continued. “My venom does enter the bloodstream.” You looked up, his face starting to come back into focus as your vision cleared. “Venom?” you asked, your voice sounding panicked. Seonghwa nodded, moving a hand up to cup your cheek. “It sounds worse than it is,” he explained.

“But I promise it’s not that bad. A vampire’s venom enters the blood and keeps your blood from coagulating. Makes it easier to feed,” he explained, brushing a single finger over the bite in your neck and bringing his blood covered finger to his mouth, licking the liquid. “But it also has another side effect,” he continued.

Your chest heaved as you tried to focus on him. You started to feel hot all over. Your clothes were suffocating. ‘What has he done to me?’ you wondered, shaking your head, grabbing the edge of the bookcase to keep yourself steady.

“W-what effect?” you stuttered, looking up at Seonghwa, your vision blurring and looking as if everything was lagging behind. Seonghwa smiled sweetly at you, despite having your blood staining his bottom lip.

“It’s an aphrodisiac.”

You whined, pulling at the collar of your clothes. “Fuck, it’s so hot,” you complained. Seonghwa resisted the urge to chuckle. “Maybe you should take them off,” he suggested. You shook your head. “I can’t,” you replied. “I need that key so I can get out of here.”

Seonghwa’s hands moved up, pulling at the top button of your shirt. “Without me, you can’t get that key,” he answered. “And I already told you what I want.”

He had a point. He’d already told you exactly what he wanted. He wanted you the same way the other guardians had gotten you. Knowing that the aphrodisiac was coursing through your veins and had a considerable effect on your decision, you still couldn't deny that you didn't want him, too.

From the moment you set eyes on him, you couldn’t deny how attractive he was. You’d be a liar if you said he wasn’t one of the most beautiful beings you’d ever laid eyes on. So ethereal, regal, and downright seductive.

Whether that was just him in general or his vampiric powers shining through, you didn’t know but one thing was for sure. Your desire for him was growing by the second and if you didn’t get your release soon, you were going to scream.

You looked up into his eyes. “Then take it,” you answered, your voice dropping. Seonghwa tilted his head. “Take it?” he asked. You nodded. “Take what you want.”

Seonghwa chuckled, taking your face in his hands. “You’re telling me to take you?” he asked, studying your face. You nodded. “Even without the aphrodisiac, I’d be telling you this. Take me so I can get your key and get out of here.”

Without another word, you felt Seonghwa’s hand wrap around your throat. “Are you completely sure?” he asked to which you nodded. “Please,” you moaned, squeezing your thighs together. The heat was getting to be too much for you to handle and you needed release.

And you needed it now.

“Be careful what you wish for, Kitten,” Seonghwa murmured.

You let out a gasp as he turned you around, pushing you backwards and guiding you up the steps until your ass hit the desk. “Once I start, I won’t stop,” he explained, placing one hand against the desk as he pushed you over it, leaning over you.

“I’ve waited for this moment since your first encounter with the alien.”

You stared up at him. “Did you really watch everything?” you asked, looking into his golden eyes as they flashed at you. “Everything,” he confirmed. A wicked smile spread over your face.

“And did you enjoy the show?”

Seonghwa’s expression turned into a scowl and he growled, showing you his pointed canines. ‘That would be a no,’ you told yourself as he leaned in. “Don’t play with me, kitten,” he growled, the sound rumbling from his chest. “This isn’t a game.”

You liked the way he bent and fought back. It only made you want to tease him some more, see how far you could push before he snapped entirely. If your encounter with San had taught you anything, it was that you liked it rough.

And with Seonghwa's physical power, you knew rough is what you’d get.

You fought the urge to smirk. “Why are you so mad?” you asked sweetly. Seonghwa narrowed his eyes. “You know why,” he murmured. Shaking your head, you lifted one of your thighs, wrapping it around his hip. “I don’t think I do,” you answered.

Seonghwa let out another growl, pushing you onto the desk, hovering over you and squeezing your neck just a little more. “You’re testing my patience, Kitten,” he hissed.

“Oh, I’m so scared,” you retorted.

Quick as a flash, Seonghwa had turned you around and bent over the desk, spreading your legs as he pressed his hard cock into your ass from behind. “If you don’t stop fucking with me, I’ll make you regret it.” Your stomach flipped, arousal pooling in your shorts.

“Now now, don’t threaten me with a good time,” you teased.

Seonghwa let out another deep growl, leaning over you as he breathed in your scent before he tilted your head to the side, exposing the bite wound on your neck to him. “I’ve been patient,” he added. “I could have just killed you earlier,” he continued. “But I’m merely a servant.”

‘A servant? What does that mean?’

“But I still have my… urges,” he continued, drawing you from your thoughts. You let out a moan as he grinded against you again. “You know,” he whispered, lips brushing against your ear. “I only got a little taste earlier but I think another is in order.”

Your words failed you as your heart pounded. “With the way your heart keeps pounding, all this blood just keeps coming out,” he murmured, leaning over, running his tongue over your neck, letting out a groan as he tasted the blood.

“I still will fuck you,” you heard him mumble. “But I really just want a little more,” he added, lowering his mouth to your neck. You shut your eyes preparing for more pain but when you felt nothing else, you opened your eyes.

Seonghwa let out a groan of frustration. “Fine,” he grumbled, standing up, you felt him rip open your shorts, hastily undoing the zipper and pushing the material down. “You still want this?” he asked, pressing his erection into your ass.

You pushed yourself up and looked over your shoulder at him. You nodded, meeting his gaze. Seonghwa sighed heavily. “You have to say it,” he noted.

Meeting his eyes once more, they flashed briefly at you. “And I’d really like it if you’d say ‘yes please,’” he added. You nodded. “Yes please,” you said breathlessly, leaning into his touch when he reached up to cup your cheek, thumb grazing your skin.

“Please, Seonghwa, I want this.”

Seonghwa’s lips parted in a smile before he pushed you back against the desk before quickly undoing his own pants. “I may bite,” you heard him say as his hand disappeared between your thighs.

You opened your mouth to respond but only a moan came out as you felt two of his fingers push into your pussy.

“Oh,” he said softly, looking down. “So tight,” he added, pumping his fingers in and out of your wet cunt.

“I’m really going to enjoy this.”

Without another word, he pulled his fingers from your cunt but they were quickly replaced with the head of his cock as he pushed into you from behind. “Oh shit,” you gasped as he bottomed out, stilling inside you.

“So this is what he got?” you heard him whisper. “And six times? How unfair.”

Before you could ask what he meant, you cried out as he set a hard, punishing pace. “Don’t talk,” Seonghwa growled. “As much as I've enjoyed it, I’ve had enough of your conversation.”

You moaned, grabbing the edge of the desk as the vampire behind you pounded into you. Much like San or Yeosang, Seonghwa’s cock wasn’t massive or monstrous but it still filled you nicely with each thrust.

“Fuck,” you gasped, nails digging into the wood of the desk. “You have any idea how mad it drove me,” Seonghwa started, his voice breathless as his hips hit your ass repeatedly. “To watch you with each guardian?”

You moaned loudly.

“When all I wanted was to fuck you like this? Like they got to?”

You cried out as his hips thrusts harder against you, cock pounding your walls. “Is that hard enough for you?” he asked, voice coming out lower and gravelly. “You seemed to like it when San took you this hard.”

You whimpered, unable to keep a firm hold on the desk. “S-Seonghwa,” you moaned. “Too hard?” he asked with a breathless chuckle. “Nhg, harder,” you groaned, surprising him. “Harder?” he asked, a smirk forming.

“I don’t think you can take that, Kitten.”

You growled, pushing back against him. “Goddamn it, Seonghwa, harder!”

You cried out, feeling his hand hit your ass. “Easy, Kitten,” he growled. “I’m in charge here.” You pushed back to meet his thrust. “Just shut up and fuck me,” you whined.

“Make me forget the others.”

That seemed to set him off. Seonghwa growled deeper, grabbing your hips hard, his nails digging into your skin. “I’ll make you forget,” he replied. “Fuck you until you’re dumb and you can only say my name. Mark you, fill you up, and make you mine.”

His pace didn’t falter, ramming into you from behind as he moved one hand to your back and kept you pushed against the wood of the desk. “You’re mine,” you heard him grunt. “Only mine.”

You moaned loudly, each thrust making you see stars. “Say it,” Seonghwa snapped suddenly. “Say you’re mine.”

You opened your mouth to reply but only moans came out. “Say it!”

“I-I’m -hng! I’m y-yours,” you moaned. “Ah, fuck!”

Seonghwa grabbed the back of your shirt, pulling you up. “Take this off,” he ordered. You moved as quickly as you could, his hips never faltering as your fingers worked to unbutton your top.

As soon as the buttons were undone, Seonghwa pulled the fabric back, tugging it down your back before sinking his teeth into the same spot he’d bitten into before. You let out a moan, walls fluttering around his cock as your head fell back onto his shoulder as you felt him feeding from the wound on your neck.

“Fuck,” you groaned. “M’gonna cum.”

Seonghwa’s hips stilled, mouth detaching from your neck. “What’re you doing?” you whined as he pulled from your warmth before turning you around and pushing you on the desk. “Lay back,” he ordered, shrugging his jacket off and moving to undo his shirt. You did as he said, watching him undo his shirt and shrug that off as well.

You took in his appearance; his messy black hair, glowing golden eyes, lips stained with your blood and some that dripped down his chin and onto his exposed collar. Your eyes traveled lower, taking in his toned body and honeyed skin tone.

Before you could get an eyeful of his wet cock, he was pushing back into you, hooking his forearms under your knees. You moaned as he slid his entire length into your pussy. “Look at me,” he demanded.

You looked up, meeting his gaze, your walls clenching around him.

“That’s it, Kitten,” he said as he started thrusting slowly. “Fuck, you’re so beautiful,” he murmured, thrusts growing in speed.

“Come here,” he said as he reached to grab the back of your neck, pulling you up. “Have you ever tasted your own blood?” he asked softly to which you shook your head, eyes glancing down to where his cock disappeared into your cunt.

“Eyes up here, Kitten,” he snapped. You looked up, meeting his gaze. “Tilt your head for me,” he instructed. You did as he asked, moaning as he sank his teeth into your skin again, taking another drawn out mouthful of blood.

Pulling back you watched as he swallowed but pulled you forward, taking you in a searing kiss, his tongue entering your mouth. You tasted nothing but metal. Letting out a moan, your walls clenched around his cock again, your thighs starting to tremble.

“Fuck, fuck, Seonghwa,” you whimpered. “I-I… m'gonna- ah!- gonna c-cum,” you stuttered. Seonghwa lowered you back to laying on the desk. “Then let go and cum for me, kitten,” he ordered, pushing your thighs back and driving his cock further into your cunt. “Don’t talk, don’t think, just cum.”

The merciless pace at which he pounded into you had you cumming in a matter of seconds, crying out in pleasure as your walls fluttered around him. “I need you to do something for me,” he said breathlessly as he slowly fucked you through your orgasm.

“W-what?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

“I need you to feed from me.”

Your eyes opened, meeting his gaze instantly. “F-feed from you?” Seonghwa nodded. “Yes,” he answered. You hesitated, looking up at him, wondering just what was going on inside that head.

“But won’t that make me a vampire?”

Seonghwa chuckled at your question. “That’s not how vampires are actually created, Kitten,” he replied. “You have to make a deal with a demon to become a vampire.” Your cheeks burned. His hips hadn’t stopped once since he asked.

“If you don’t want me to drag this out and trust me, I could fuck you for days, I need you to do this. It’ll make me finish faster,” he explained. As much as you wouldn’t mind having him fuck you for hours on end, you knew you were running out of time. You needed that key and to get out.

“O-okay,” you replied finally.

You pushed yourself up as Seonghwa used the pointed claw ring he wore on the tip of his thumb to pierce the skin of his wrist. “Don’t think about it,” he said softly, offering you his wrist. Taking a deep breath, you took his wrist, parting your lips and biting onto his skin.

The taste was just like it had been when you kissed him earlier. It tasted of metal only much stronger. Seonghwa let out a groan, keeping a firm hold on your hips with his free hand as he slammed into you.

“Fuck,” he cursed. “That’s it,” he urged. “M’gonna cum,” he warned. “Gonna fill you up and make you mine.”

You moaned, letting go of his wrist. “C’mere,” you heard him snap. He took the back of your neck, pulling you into another messy kiss as his hips stuttered before you felt his cock twitch, releasing inside you and fucking his load into you further until he couldn’t anymore.

Finally coming to a halt, Seonghwa groaned against your lips. “Fuck,” he hissed. “I’m tempted to take you again,” he murmured, pressing light kisses against your lips. “Make you mine fully.” You whimpered against his lips as he gave you a shallow thrust. “I could go again,” he noted. “Please,” you whined. “Another round?”

The aphrodisiac hadn’t worn off just yet and if that was the kind of sex you got with Seonghwa, you couldn’t turn down another round. You felt his fingers close around your throat.

“Such an insatiable kitten,” he muttered. “I give you some and you want more?”

You nodded, looking up at him with pleading eyes. He leaned in, kissing you once, twice, three times before smiling. “That’s okay,” he replied.

“I’m insatiable, too.”

Seonghwa made sure you were fully satisfied before he finally handed over his key. “I’d get up,” he said, lying on the floor next to the desk where you’d taken over in the end and rode him until you both came. “But I’m drained.”

You snorted as you dressed, pulling up your shorts and buttoning your shirt. “Pardon the pun,” Seonghwa added with a dazed grin. “You go, enjoy your freedom and the treasure if you can find it,” he added with a wave of his hand.

You walked over to the door to the restricted section and looked at his key before inserting it into the keyhole and turning it.

The mechanism inside the door clicked and the door slowly creaked open. You glanced back to find Seonghwa had already gotten up and was dressing. He looked up as you stood at the doorway. “It’s been a pleasure,” he said with a grin.

“Come back and see me if you’re bored,” he added with a smirk.

You turned back to the door after rolling your eyes and stepped past the frame, allowing the door to swing shut behind you, leaving you in darkness. You pulled your flashlight out, glad to have grabbed your pack on your way to the door.

Shining the light around, you noticed how there were rows upon rows of bookshelves. You walked down the path ahead of you, noticing a dim light in the distance. ‘Is that the way out?’

You picked up the pace, hurrying towards the light but froze in your tracks when you heard a thud echoing around the room. You turned your head, following your line of sight with your flashlight. There was a book lying on the ground.

Glancing at the light, you turned to the book, stepping into the aisle and picking it up. You read the words before you, your eyes widening as you read.

‘Y/N moaned, walls clenching around Yunho’s cock and pulling a grunt from him as well. “F-feels so good,” she whimpered, chest still resting against the floor. She tried to push herself up but Yunho let out another snarl, pushing her chest to the wood again. “Down,” he growled. “Stay down.”’

You threw the book to the floor and backed away from it. ‘What the hell? That’s impossible! How the hell was that in a book?’ There’s no way it was a coincidence. Decided to return to the center aisle, you were more determined to get out of this place.

A few more steps and another book fell, this time, landing at your feet. You glanced up, shining the light from one side to the other but saw nothing except the empty aisles. You knelt down, picking up the book slowly, reading the text on the page before you.

‘Without another word, Wooyoung pulled Y/N’s hips back, pushing his cock past her folds and driving it deep into her wet pussy. She let out an involuntary moan as he bottomed out, cock stretching her walls as they fluttered around him. “Oh,” he murmured. “You’re much tighter than I expected.” Y/N let out a moan as he gave her a measured thrust, pushing and pulling her hips back, her ass meeting his own hips.’

You hurled the book away with a gasp, watching it land in one of the aisles. “This is not possible,” you whispered, heart starting to race. Your stomach churned, a sour feeling creeping up your throat before you turned to continue down the center aisle toward the light.

As you continued, trying to focus on escaping, you stepped on something and glanced down to see yet another book, this time lying open under your foot. ‘Not again…’

You picked it up, eyes scanning the text yet again.

‘San let out a deep moan, removing his thumb and grabbing Y/N’s skirt with one hand while the other grabbed her shoulder, pushing her chest against the hardwood of the table. “Be a good kitty,” San growled, hips smacking her ass with each thrust, whimpers leaving Y/N’s lips. “And stay down for me.”’

Your eyes burned, the corners filling with unshed tears. “How is this even possible?” you whispered, dropping the book with a dull thud and stepping over it. You only went another few steps before another book appeared in your line sight.

Blinking away the tears, you picked it up, knowing full well what it was going to say but it still took your ability to breathe away.

‘Y/N moaned as three of Jongho’s fingers plunged into her aching cunt, the stinging was quickly replaced with a burning desire. He didn’t let her adjust to the intrusion, instead moving his fingers in and out of her rapidly, trying to stretch her enough to take his cock.’

Teardrops fell onto the page as you held back a sob. “What is this?” you whimpered, fear flooding your senses. You let the book fall to the floor before picking up another one.

‘Yeosang chuckled in her ear. “Faster? You’re so impatient,” he mumbled, lips brushing against the lobe of Y/N’s ear. “You want me to draw this out or stop?” Her eyes snapped open. “No, don’t stop!” she protested. Yeosang smirked at her reaction. “Then don’t rush me, Y/N.”’

You blinked, more tears streaming down your face as you continued, picking up another book and reading a passage from what seemed to be your own stories.

‘Without another word, Mingi did just that, his scaly skin hitting Y/N’s soft flesh with each snap of his hips, the end of his tail squeezing her body just enough to keep her firmly in place but not enough to hurt. “Oh fuuuuuuck,” she moaned as her walls squeezed around the naga’s cocks.’

You set the book down, moving to grab the next one, an involuntary sob leaving your lips.

‘The vampire’s pace didn’t falter, ramming into Y/N from behind as he moved on hand to her back, keeping her pushed against the wood of the desk. “You’re mine,” she heard him grunt. “Only mine.” Y/N moaned loudly, each thrust making her see stars. “Say it,” Seonghwa snapped suddenly. “Say you’re mine.”’

‘How is this possible? This just happened!’

You let the book slip from your hands as you looked up towards the dim light, pointing at a small stand with a large bound book resting upon it. Standing up slowly, you glanced around the room before cautiously walking over to it.

The book cover was in a language you couldn’t read. You reached a hand out to touch the cover which was so old it looked like it might crumble.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” a voice said, making you jump and look around, shining your flashlight around. You saw nothing until you turned to face the way you’d come from and saw a figure standing there. Your light fell to the figure’s feet displaying heavy black boots. As you raised the light slowly, more came into view.

Tight black leather pants, a black coat with tails, opened in the center, exposing the toned torso of a man. You continued to raise the light until you stopped on his face. He was extremely handsome, with a pointed nose, plush lips, almond shaped eyes with red irises.

His hair was light brown, almost caramel, longer in the back. Protruding from his forehead near his hairline were two, black horns, curving up and back over his head, almost like a goat.

Your eyes widened as you looked over him once more. He gave you a cheeky grin, stepping forward until he entered the circle of light, allowing you to see him fully.

“Aren’t you a pretty one,” he said with a chuckle. He raised a hand, allowing you to see the pointed black nails on the tips of ring clad fingers before he ran his fingers through his choppy hair.

“Perhaps even prettier than the others,” he added. You glanced around the room quickly. ‘The others? What is he talking about?’ you wondered.

“Who are you?” you whispered as he stepped closer. He tilted his head, giving you another cheeky grin. “Where are my manners?”

He did a little skip to the side and gave you a little bow. “I am Hongjoong,” he answered, looking up from his bowed position. “This is my Library.”

You narrowed your eyes. “Your library? But I thought Seonghwa—”

Hongjoong stood up straight, the smile gone from his face. “Seonghwa?” He clicked his tongue, shaking his head. “Seonghwa simply works for me,” he replied.

“This is my Library. This is where I live.”

You looked around again. “You live here?” Hongjoong nodded, another mischievous grin spreading across his face, showing you pointed teeth like Seonghwa. ‘Another vampire?’

“I’m not a vampire,” Hongjoong said suddenly, making you gasp and cover your mouth. “C-can you read my mind?” you asked softly. Hongjoong swayed from side to side, smiling at you. “Of course I can,” he answered.

“Because you’re a vampire?”

Hongjoong shook his head. “I’m no vampire,” he replied.

“I’m much more than that,” he added with a wink.

“Then what are you?” you asked as Hongjoong cleared his throat.

“Allow me to introduce myself properly,” he said, closing the distance in a flash, taking your hand and bringing it up to kiss the back of it. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Y/F/N Y/L/N. I am Hongjoong, the demon and this is my Library of Illusions.”

Your eyes widened. ‘A demon?’

You let out a squeak of surprise as he reached behind you, placing his hand on your back and pulling you flush against his body.

“Welcome to my home.”

[its-in-the-woods]

Coyote Head - Part 9 - An Old Bible

master list

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8,

Pairing: Cooper Howard x Lucy Maclean 

Includes many other characters from Fallout

Synopsis: More hidden secrets are about to be spilled, as our couple moves closer together.

MINOR GET OUT. Rating/Warning:  Animal/people death, dead animal mutilation, Alternative Universe, Slow Burn, Death, Aging, Family Feuding, Older Man/Younger Woman

Note: that I will not be spoiling any of the reading. So you have been warned. I will keep my tags relevant without spoiling what is happening in the story.

*thank you for waiting patiently, we finally have this mostly written out including how this ends. besides editing and fluffing it out a bit. 😀

Mark, Cooper's brother, was driving them back to the farm. Mark was slenderly built, with spiky black hair, his clothes neatly fitted. He looked shockingly like his brother but moved in more cat-like ways. The man was more than gracious, having brought his wife's, Ashley, SUV for a gentler ride home. He chatters with Cooper about the cattle and seed prices. Lucy was still feeling dazed, her hearing kept ringing, the nurse had assured them both that it should return soon. Lucy was not as sure it would actually come back, it was pulsing almost like a siren. Even the extra pain meds had done little to nothing to help. She rubs at her temples, hoping that sleep and a hot shower will alleviate some of the pressure. 

Despite having been unconscious for the last two days Lucy still felt exhausted. Her body aches and protests at every bump and turn. She desperately wants to sleep, but the thought of closing her eyes in the car made her skin crawl. Memories were trying to crawl back, her Grandpa’s voice, Cooper screaming for her. She pushes those away, instead, she got an extra large coffee and drank it while trying to keep track of the two brother's conversation. 

Mark talked fast and animated, while Cooper listened and added bits and pieces. Cooper was a decade older than Mark, Mark had bought a quarter section with his wife five years ago. The man was passionate and more than eager to get input from his older brother. Cooper, as always, was reassuring and willing to explain what he could to Mark. By the sounds of things, the fields would be dry enough to plant this week. Mark had tried unsuccessfully to convince Cooper that he would be fine tackling seeding alone. The eldest brother had stated that within the week he'd be out there helping. Family always came first, whether that was being picked up at the hospital or seeding fields.

Lucy making sure to offer help as well, she didn’t want to step on toes, but it felt like the right thing to do. Even if the idea of sitting behind the wheel of a tractor with nothing but her thoughts wasn't appealing. She mentally noted that she needed to find some podcasts to listen to. Preferably something not of the paranormal variety. 

“Lucy, have you driven a seeder before?” Mark asks, brown eyes looking in the rearview mirror at her.

“Uh, I drove Tim's old International. But it's been a bit.” Lucy replies, trying to keep the shakiness out of her voice. Cooper's hand reaching behind the seat to pat her knee. “Sure with a little practice, I could learn.” 

“Well if you're up for it we could sure use yah.” Mark continues, unswayed by Cooper’s sigh. “Usually-” The man was quiet for a moment, his eyes getting glassy, “Usually Dad -um- would be out with us. But -ah- I don't think he'll make it.” 

“I would be happy to help,” Lucy replies, hoping to move the conversation away from the sore spot.  “Pretty sure Harris and his kids are covered this year.” 

The rest of the ride home is dotted with talks about different machinery, equipment maintenance, and how expensive everything was. Lucy adding that Dane was excellent on any equipment, Cooper agreed and mentioning that it would be good to have them on board. She felt a little selfish trying to keep Dane nearby, but really if they could have their hands full with work they enjoyed why not offer it? Even if it would only be for this harvest season.

It was getting close to five when they pulled into the Howard home, Lucy spotting Harris’ vehicles sitting in the drive. Her stomach knotted tight, she had briefly texted the man about being free of the hospital's confines. He had only replied that he would see her when she got there. Harris had never been one for texting, but with spotty reception on the highway, phone calls were not ideal. She tries to ease her racing mind, family was a good thing, though she was positive that dinner would be filled with many questions. That Lucy didn’t have answers to, she wasn’t even really sure she wanted to remember what had happened. The thought had her ears ringing again, trying to relax her jaw so she didn't break a tooth.

Cooper helps Lucy out, he isn’t completely on his feet either but between the two of them they manage to hobble towards the house. Whatever had happened was enough for both of them to be sore. Lucy happily leaning into the warmth of Cooper’s body, she wonders briefly if she’d get to share a bed with him tonight. Even if it was just to curl up against him, they were both adults after all.

A ruckus of cries came from the door, nearly sending Lucy toppling to the ground. As Mathias and Janey came running out towards them. The two small children nearly knocking them off their feet as they wrap themselves around Cooper. Lucy held on to make sure that he didn’t topple down. 

“Daddy! Daddy!” Matthias sobs his head buried in the man’s stomach. “I just wanted you home.” 

Cooper lets go of Lucy with a small smile before he drops himself onto the gravel. Mark comes up quickly to help keep Lucy on her feet, she gratefully leans on him. Her legs are threatening to give out with too much pressure. Mark may have been trim, but he was still strong enough to hold Lucy up with ease. 

The kids piled on top of their Dad with happy tears, Cooper hugging both of his children close to his chest. Janey couldn’t even find words, just wrapping herself around one side of Cooper and crying. Lucy beams at the small family, her heart aching knowing that she could have been the one to lose him. Because of her, their Dad had been gone for two days, because of her his life had been turned upside down. Lucy couldn’t help gritting her teeth, vowing to do her best to keep him out of danger. Not that she could ever stop him from doing something he wanted to do.  

Harris’ big voice echoes across the place as he comes over to give Lucy a near spine-breaking hug. Margie, not too far behind, tears in her eyes as she hugs her niece with her husband. Mark lets go to make his way towards the front entrance. 

“You sure gave us a scare,” Margie cries, her hands cupping Lucy’s face. “Didn’t know what was gonna happen.”

Lucy let her own tears flow, as she held onto her family. Unable to find the words to properly convey how much it meant that she had them, that they were all still here. The reality that she could have lost her life became all that much clearer as she held onto both of them. 

***

The dinner table was empty, Mark having gone home to his family not long ago. The kids have been tucked into bed for the night. Not without a lot of protests and promises that both Cooper and Lucy would still be there in the morning. Lucy had even stayed in the room long enough for Janey to fall asleep. She’d only known the kids for a short period of time, but the impact she had on both was clear. Now once again Lucy sat surrounded by the other adults of the family, some apple moonshine had been poured. A rare, but delicious treat. The alcohol's effects starting to relax Lucy enough to feel like she was not going to combust in her seat. She really didn’t want to answer questions, but there weren’t many options. 

“Lucy, Cooper, know you’ve both had a wild few days,” Harris starts, happily taking another shallow glass of liquor. “But, I was hopin' maybe you guys might be able to fill in some details, did either of ya rmember much?” 

Lucy shook her head, “I remember the dance, then drivin' home. I remember going inside and seeing the coyote and then hearing Tim.” She swallows, her throat going dry at the memory, “I heard his voice.”

She watches as everyone at the table’s face goes pale, Cooper’s hand covering hers. “T’was the same for me, but I didn’t hear Tim. I heard Barb. But it sounded wrong like it was comin’ outta radio. Then it got loud, so loud.”

A heavy silence falls around them as the others take in what they just heard. Harris looks at Marge, Richard, and Dorthy doing the same. As if they were silently deciding amongst themselves if they should believe them. Lucy looking at Cooper, squeezing his hand. He was doing his best to keep himself stone-faced, but Lucy could see the cracks.  She desperately wanted to comfort him, tell him she was sorry, but knowing here was not the time or place. 

“How did you know to come get us?” Lucy finally asks, not able to sit in the silence any longer. It was one of the few things she’d thought about asking since she woke up. 

Harris swallows as all eyes turn to them, shifting in his seat as he looks at everyone. Margie glaring at him, her lips pursed, arms crossing her chest as she waits for her husband to reply. If looks could wound, she’d have cut him to ribbons. 

“I didn’t know,” Harris states, Margie gets up and walks to the kitchen counter where her bag is. “I went to look for your Granddad’s bible,”

Lucy felt like she might throw up, Cooper’s whole body tensing. Harris continuing to keep secrets from her was a blow, even if it had saved them. She wishes Harris would be more honest about what he was doing. 

“Now before punches are thrown, downright needed ones,” Harris replies putting his hands up, as Margie sits down with a small book in front of her. “I was going to tell you after the dance. At Sunday dinner. But I got this itchin’ feelin’ I needed to go and look for it now.” Cooper’s hand squeezes Lucy’s as his hazel eyes are set on Harris’. “I am glad I did, and I know I should have phoned.”

“Yes, he should have. Stubborn asshole.” Margie grumbles, her fingers tapping on the top of the book. “I gave him hell for ya Lucy. Man can be stupider than a steer some days. He found this, a few days after you had gathered the journals.” 

Margie carefully passes the book, more of a ledge now that Lucy can see it clearly. It’s black, non-descript with worn pages poking out the side, and a silver script says 00-05 on the top right corner. Flipping it open the title page has her Grandfather’s name and phone number in the top left. Underneath it has: gains/losses for 2000-2005 

“Now, it might not seem like much, Lucy,” Harris said quietly, everyone shuffling closer to take a look at the now coveted item. Lucy pushes it forward so more can see it.  “But if you follow the dates, you’ll notice a few thin's. “

Lucy flipped open the page, counts of cows, calves, bulls, and steers listed. Then below the count of who went to slaughter, who stayed, which bulls were kept, and so on. As her eyes sweep lower, the pen color changes. It could almost be overlooked, going from black to a navy blue pen, but Lucy picks it up right away. Her Grandpa, like many of his generation, was a stickler for details. He won’t have switched pens without reason. 

July, sixteenth, two thousand, beside it was a note fox killed four chickens

“The blue,” Lucy said looking up at Harris, her finger resting beside that. Dorothy puts on her reading glasses to take a closer look. “We never lost chickens to foxes.”

Harris nods, Richard's eyebrows scrunching, “I’ve seen Tim’s coops, could barely get in'em as human. Highly doubt a fox got through quarter-inch hardware cloth.”

“Flip to the next month,” Harris states, leaning back against the chair a bit. Lucy not liking that he seemed to have the book memorized by now. Why hadn’t he given her the book to begin with? 

She worries at her lip but does what she asked, finger once again running down to the next off-colored line. Again black and then navy blue.  

August fifteenth two thousand, two rabbits, wild

She flips over to the next page, now easily finding the different color. 

September thirteen two thousands, coyote, attacked calf

Every month there are at least one, sometimes two, lines written in navy blue ink. The writing seemed slightly different, almost shaky. 

“So,” Lucy looks around, unsure exactly what Harris was leaning towards. “What is it?”

“It’s the full moon and solstices,” Dorthoy spoke, her voice wavering slightly. Folding her glasses under her shaky hands. “They are all close to twenty-eight days apart.”

Lucy is flipping open her phone and searching for a full moon calendar. She looks at the website, and then at the ledger. Each date is almost exact. Some off by a day or two, but on or around the full moon.

“I am still lost,” Cooper adds, Lucy, letting him take a look at the book as she watches her Uncle and Aunt closely.

“I think he was bringin the animals to the forest,” Harris says, Margie’s looking like she might be sick. “I can’t be certain, but why else would he have it in a different color on or around the full moon?”

Lucy snorts, maybe it’s the alcohol or the lack of sleep, but the words out of Harris’ mouth seem ridiculous. “Like as a sacrifice? To the forest? Is that really what we are thinking here?”

More silence, Dorothy taking a deep drink from her glass, Lucy trying to see if anyone else agrees. How was this even possible? Yes, weird stuff was happening, but that didn’t mean her Grandfather should have been in a ward. 

“This can’t be what we are thinking?” Lucy pushes, looking at all the people sitting at the table. Cooper doing the thing, his face lined with worry. 

“Lucy,” Richard speaks up, “You and my son aren't the only ones that have heard voices. I also helped search for your Dad and Uncle. I and many others heard, not just their voices, but the voices of other dead loved ones. Most shrugged it off as the wind or exhaustion. But I saw the look in your Grandfather’s eyes, it was like he knew what it was. He was distraught, spendin more hours out there than anyone. Shirley had to drag him out of there almost every night. He wasn’t right for a long time after that.”

“He’d just lost his sons. Anyone would be unwell.” Lucy throws her hands up. “Doesn’t mean he was killing animals f-for what?” 

“We don’t know,” Margie replies, voice quieting the room. “Why Harris went lookin for the bible. We want answers just as much as you do.”

“Your Grandad had an old bible, really old,” Harris adds, fiddling with his empty glass. “I am wonderin if there is more info in that. Maybe between the ledger, the journals, and the bible, we can figure out what is going on.”

Lucy finishes her drink, still in disbelief, how could any of this be possible? Her ears rung, the image of the dead and desiccated coyote on her bed standing out clear, her body aching. It was real, as real as any of this could be. Whether Lucy believed it or not, it was happening. Cooper’s hand grips hers as she tries to pull herself back into reality. Realizing her eyes have closed, swallowing as she forces herself to look around the table.

“Okay. We'll get it all together. Try to piece out it is, even if this does sound otherworldly.” Lucy sighs, rubbing at her tired eyes, she desperately needed sleep and some time to digest this all. 

“Can we maybe pick this up tomorrow?” Cooper asks, his eyes still fixed on Lucy, his hand holding hers. Lucy wanted to lean against him and let the world drift away. 

“I think that would be wise, it’s been a hard few days for everyone. “ Margie says, patting Harris’ hand. “Why don’t we'll come by tomorrow evening? Will gather our things and see what we can compile.”

“Sounds like a good plan. I know I could use the rest,” Richard gives a forced smile, as everyone begins to move around the room.

***

Lucy makes it upstairs, just barely, her whole body aches, the last month of terror catching up with her. She leans against the wall once upstairs, Cooper coming over to scoop her up. The way he easily carried her made her heart stutter, she wrapped her arms around his neck. Letting him carry her down to his room, she’d taken to sleeping in the spare room. Cooper wanted to keep things separate until they got to know each other better. 

Tonight was different, something had changed between the two of them. Lucy wasn’t sure what it was, but they were interconnected like they were meant to find the other. It had taken them both being attacked by, well there wasn’t a name for it, to understand that connection. So when Cooper plops her down onto his bed, Lucy doesn’t make a fuss. 

Cooper set about rolling down her socks, his hands are calloused but gentle. He was always so gentle with her, Lucy couldn’t help but wonder what it would be like for him to not be so gentle. Though, that would have to wait for another night when she was more conscious.  Moonshine tended to have that effect on her.

“Do you want me t'sleep in the spare?” Cooper asks, having taken off his socks as well, sitting down beside her. Lucy wraps her arms around his waist, causing Cooper to chuckle. “Would ya mind if I divested some of my clothes, or would ya rather me stay clothed.”

“I don’t mind, it’s your bed, you should be comfortable. I am personally going to remove this constraining bra. As well as my pants,” Lucy chuckles, as she does her best to sit up. The world spinning, Cooper steadies her, his hands working under her shirt. She feels him pause and nods her head, as he carefully unclasps her bra. Lucy sighs as she flings the offending item out from under her shirt. Both giggling at the ridiculous act, as Cooper stands up.

“I am sorry Cooper,” Lucy says, still swaying a bit, the sadness in her stomach still hoovering at the surface. “About Barb. I didn’t know you’d heard her voice.”

Cooper freezes where he is stood, turning to look at her, “It wasn’t her, I wish it was. But I know it in my heart it wasn’t her.” He tapped his fingers over his heart.

Lucy tries to stand, wanting to comfort him, and fails, falling back onto the bed. Maybe it would be best if she just stayed clothed. Cooper comes over crouching between her legs, his hands resting gently on her thighs. 

“I feel like I’ve turned your world upside down.” Lucy sighs, eyes closing, her words feeling meaningless against the tide of pain. “I don’t wish to cause you more pain, Cooper.”

Cooper chuckles, “You do anything but that, Lucy.”  He rests his head against her thigh, Lucy’s fingers naturally running up into his hair.”  

“I seem to be, either too drunk or too tired to remove my pants.” Lucy sighs, covering her face at the ridiculousness of the situation she has found herself in. 

“Do you want’em off?” Cooper asks, Lucy, peeking through her fingers. Cooper kisses the top of her thigh, and the room is very warm all of a sudden. 

“If ya don’t mind helpin'me? No funny business.” Lucy teases, Cooper giving her a soft smile before his hand skillfully had her pants unbuttoned and unzipped. He moves back down so he can take the bottoms and carefully pull them off her legs. Lucy lifted her butt a bit so that they slid off. Slumping into the cool blankets now that she was free of most of her clothes. 

Lucy lays on her side, watching Cooper pull his shirt over his head in one fluid motion. The way his back is shadowed in the late evening light makes her body ache. His pants go next, and Lucy is really regretting drinking as much as she did. The man was like something made out of stone. 

She wiggles herself up and flips the blankets up, crawling in and patting the bed beside her. Cooper crawls in without a fuss, before pulling the blanket up and around them. He wraps his arm around her so that she is snuggled against him. 

“No funny business?” Cooper smirked, his eyes glancing sideways at her, leaning down and kissing her gently. 

Lucy giggles, wiggling herself so she is right next to him, her body pressing up against his. Kissing his collarbone gently as her leg hooked over his thigh. 

“You’re too good to me, Cooper Howard,” Lucy replies, settling herself comfortably as her fingertips trace unknown symbols over his chest. 

Cooper wrapped her up close to him, kissing her forehead, “I could say the same to you, Ms. MacLean.”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

TEN IS HERE

@toogaytofunctiondangit , @hiddlebatchedloki, @whatsorceressisthis @dichromaniac @autumncryptids

@therealcozyaxoltol

**As always likes, comments, shares are soooo appreciated, you can find me Ao3 as well

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[inafieldofdaisies]

Character Edit | Mercedes "Mercy" Sibley (FC5 OC)

"If there's anything I believe in, it's you."

Jacob watched silently as his brother continued searching around the small living room in confusion, his usually serene features marred by a deep frown. "Lookin' for anything, Joseph?", he grumbled out eventually, having a clear idea of what was missing. It had taken him seconds to shove Mercedes' picture in the back pocket of his jeans before Joseph's ultimate return and chance of catching him stealing something he clearly valued enough to keep in his bible. Now Jacob's tone matched hers anytime she would stash away his posters and try to convince him she was innocent. He could only imagine the look she would give him if she had been in the room right then, witnessed what he had done. He knew without a shadow of a doubt she would have teased him about 'misbehaving', a devious gleam shining in her dark eyes at his annoyance. Yet no part of him regretted his actions, not when his thoughts grew darker at the idea Joseph owned anything to do with her. "No need to worry, brother.", Joseph sighed as he lowered himself onto the couch, "It's nothing of importance."

[shion-yu]

Saint Valentine's Day

Snzblr Valentine for @onetrickponi featuring their OCs Tíbor and Hazel! I really hope you enjoy this and it’s in character - I’m so sorry if it’s off (I know Tíb is super grumpy here and does Tíbor drink/sleep?? Idk but he does today) or too similar to your Christmas wav, it was supposed to be a drawing but it just wasn’t working out. If I ever get happy with the drawing I’ll letcha know tho ;) Thank you so much for organizing this @sneezydarliing!

Hazel thinks Valentine's Day should be a safe holiday. All the "Saint" in the Saint Valentine part has been long since replaced with the glamours of capitalism, so she doesn't expect it'll be as rough on Tíbor as Christmas was. She's hopeful, really hopeful as she does her hair into a twisted braid and ties it at the end. It's when she emerges from the bedroom that she hears it.

“Hiit-chooo! He’unggh-CHOO!... Ehhnngch... Hnngh-SHIEW!”

Yikes. Definitely Tíbor, and definitely the same brand of breathless sneezing that he displayed around the Christmas holidays. Hazel opens the study door to find him huddled in the dark with a soaked handkerchief to his nose. The curtains are closed, but the daylight is enough that she can still see him well. He's hunched at the top of the couch with a blanket around his shoulders and he looks goddamn awful. 

“Hhi-TSHEW! Snnk. Guh. Don't you know how to knock?" Tíbor squints at her, a dirty expression on his face. 

"It's my place, freeloader," she says, crossing her arms and smirking. "Valentine's Day isn't even religious anymore. I thought Jesus would spare you this time."

"The origins of the day are still religious," Tíbor snaps back, shooting her a glare. "Don't you have somewhere to be that's not watching me sn... Snee... SnUHT’DSHhhuih!"

"Ouch,” Hazel comments.

Tíbor groans and rubs his nose which already looks raw and red. The onslaught of sneezes makes him cough roughly; Hazel can tell he's already sneezed himself half hoarse. 

"Tíb, maybe getting out of this room will help," Hazel suggests. "It's so... Cave like in here. Some fresh air might do you good."

Tíbor snorts rudely, and wetly. "Unless we're going to a Bible burning, I'll pass. I'm not exactly in the mood for other people." His nose scrunches up, his eyes squinting, and Hazel knows he's about to start again. He keeps taking shaky, sharp gasps like he's about to, but then nothing happens.

"It's better to let it out," she points out.

"Like it's my choice," Tíbor snaps. "Fuck you - HeHh’UuSHHHuh! Atchhhh...Heitt’CHIUU!"

"There you go,” Hazel says approving at the tremendous sneeze that Tíbor finally manages to release. “Doesn't that feel better?"

"Fuck you," Tíbor repeats solemnly. His eyes look swollen and Hazel feels just a touch of sympathy for him.

"You need to come up with some new comebacks," Hazel says. "Fuck you is getting really lame." She bounds off to the bathroom, where she can still hear Tíbor sneezing tremendously in the other room, poor guy. She finds a box of tissues under the sink and brings it to Tíbor, who's blowing his nose into his soaked handkerchief. "Toss that," she says distastefully. "It's not doing you any good at this point." She hands him the box of tissues, which Tíbor quickly utilizes.

“Nngxxxth! Nngu’zzetCh! Hizzz’shhiu! Ett’NGXTIU!”

"Holy shit," Hazel says. "Ah, sorry. Just shit. Plain, non-holy shit." She giggles a little despite Tíbor's look of disgust. 

"I'm glad this is funny to you," he snaps. "No really. I'm so, so... Glad... Ht'kshht!"

"Alright, that's enough," she sighs, sitting on the edge of the couch and handing him a tissue. "I'm sure you're miserable, so just relax. Do you need anything? Besides this day to be over."

Tíbor blows his nose and then coughs a few times into the tissue. He doesn't have quite the same presence to him when he's like this, Hazel thinks to herself. "Dunno,” he groans.

"Tea?" 

"...If you think it'd help."

"Tea always helps," Hazel said confidently, although she wasn't so sure how demon biology worked. Then again, tea was about comfort more than anything for humans anyways, so it should work the same. She stood to go make him some in the kitchen. "Wait here."

"Not going anywhere," Tíbor replies sarcastically. Indeed, she knows he doesn't move because she can hear him sneezing from the bedroom the entire time she brews them each a cup of black tea. When she returns Tíbor looks exhausted. "This is your fault," he accused her. "I wouldn't have to be here still if you just made up your mind."

"Fine. I wish you'd stop sneezing before your brains drip out of your nostrils, assuming you actually have a brain. That good enough?" 

"No." 

"Didn't think so. Drink up."

Tíbor manages about half the cup before he shoves it hastily in Hazel's direction. "Hazel, I'm gonna-" She barely grabs the cup away from him before he starts sneezing again.

“Hhh-hekgxt! KeTCHhhsu! ETCHhhhiu! Ha-ETCSCHEW!!"

"Gesundheit," Hazel says. 

"Thought you said tea would help," Tíbor whined, sniffling into yet another tissue. He's going through them like hot cakes.

"So finish yours," Hazel says, handing the cup back to him. "It's tea though, it's not a sedative." 

"That would be fucking amazing," Tíbor mutters. He finished the cup anyways. His eyes are drooping tiredly. 

Hazel takes the empty mug away from him and places it on the bedside table. "Have you rested at all?"

"Not really," Tíbor says. "Haven't been able to stop - nn'gshhu!! - sneezing."

"Thanks for the demonstration," Hazel smirks. "Why don't you get some sleep?" 

Tíbor yawns. "You sure that tea wasn't a sedative?" He asks, lying down on the couch. "Made me kinda sleepy." 

"It's just comforting like that," Hazel informs him. 

She stands up, ready to start her own day that doesn't involve babysitting a sneezing demon. She walks to the door, two empty mugs in hand, and is nearly gone when she hears a very small, "Thanks," from under the covers.

Hazel bites her lip and smiles. "No problem. Sleep well, Tíb."

[filthyfluffyfantasies]

✧ ˚ 　· 　　 . DL;DR - this fic is not meant for anyone under the age of 18 as it contains the following: dirty talk, use of petnames ( sweetheart, princess, etc ), unprotected p/v sex, -wrap it before you tap it, darlings, swearing, mention of oral sex, body fluids, creampie -because Harrington has a weak pullout game, kissing/saliva and just a pinch of biting/marking. writer does not give permission for her works to be reposted, with or without permission. ✧ ˚ 　· 　　 .

prompt two - lovemaking

character | fandom - steve harrington | stranger things

reader | original character - female reader, roommate & non -or vague, description.

words - roughly 4.2k

tagging - < taglist here >

✧ ˚ 　· 　　 . a storm. your roommate Steve decides to take your mind off of said storm. just a lil soft and oh-so sweet tender lovemaking, ftw✧ ˚ 　· 　　 .

❝ Its just a storm, woman.❞ Robin’s laugh on the other end of the line has you pouting. Holding a red telephone away from you as you flip it off.

As the lights flicker throughout the apartment, you shriek. . ❝ That was my freaking ear, good Lord. Relax.❞ Robin's coaxing doesn't do a thing to soothe your frazzled nerves though.

There's only one person who can but he's working late tonight and if I were to tell him storms freak me out -or anything I may or may not be keeping from him lately, pretty sure it's only going to mess up everything. - the thought is frustrating for you because lately, telling him everything is all you seem to want to do. The urge to do so has gotten so bad that you're trying as hard as you can to keep a healthy distance from Steve.

This storm just might have the potential to undo all of your efforts, especially if it worsens - and God forbid there's a blackout, you pause and glare up at the overhead lights in the kitchen as they choose that exact second to flicker even more. The loud clap of thunder and the way strong wind gusts send a branch right into the fire escape outside, a violent crash both ways is met with another scream from you.

❝ Steve should be there in another hour. With Keith in the store, it takes at least thirty minutes for Steve to close. But then your big, strong, manly man will be home.❞ Robin’s taunting you, snorting in laughter through loud static on the line, as she throws in, ❝ Y'know…you could do something. He's always been a sucker for the damsel in distress thing. He needs someone to do something. He's been real down lately.❞ she pauses.

 You sigh, shaking your head despite your best friends inability to see you. You know what she's saying is true. What she doesn't seem to understand is that you've tried. Too many times to count. But the words always get hung in your throat or it's not a good time, it's not the right time, he's heading out the door on another of his dating attempts. It's frustrating for you, but you have tried. In the only ways you know how. If only subtle worked.. - you think to yourself, pacing the living room of the apartment you share with Steve as the storm picks up even more outside, the lights inside the apartment flicker even more.

❝ Gee, I wonder why that is..❞ she hints again. 

But as usual, you don't pick up on the not-so subtle hint and you muse aloud, ❝ I don't know. Maybe his date with that girl he talked about didn’t go the way he wanted it to? He's definitely seemed moodier lately..❞ as you pout a little. 

You’re selfishly glad it didn't work out but you're also sad for him. You love him and you hate to see him hurt or upset. And Heidi had been all wrong for him from the word go, your own personal opinion.

 ❝ Or…hear me out, woman..❞ Robin counters, a pause to rub the bridge of her nose as she thinks of the best way to clue you in, hoping that maybe this time you'll believe her, ❝ Maybe it's because he thinks that you, the girl he really wants, isn't interested. Maybe that's the reason?❞

You laugh. ❝ Right. And I'm actually Madonna, I swear on the Bible. He doesn't see me like that, Robbie. If he did, it'd be painfully obvious by now how I feel about him.❞

Robin grumbles, it's something about how impossibly stubborn you happen to be and in the midst of all that, the power goes out. The bad storm outside is downright nasty now, winds howling as the thunder rolls, constant.

You don't even get the luxury of a dial tone when the power goes, you're left holding the landline in your hand as you jump at every single little noise.

❝ God I hope he's safe coming in. The sooner, the better.❞ you mumble to yourself as you flop back against the couch dramatically.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ ･ ｡ﾟ ───

It felt as if Keith wasn't ever going to shut the fuck up. And then, because of course that's how it'd go, Steve thinks to himself as he rushes through closing procedure so he's not out in the worst of the storm that's rolled into town -and so he can rush home to you, where he'd rather be to begin with, Robin rushes in, whatever she's got to tell him is apparently life or death and no, it absolutely can't wait until their next shared shift.

❝ Steve!❞ Robin throws up her hands, exasperated because she can tell he isn’t listening to her, ❝ Were you listening to me at all?❞ 

❝ Yeah?❞ he replies, sheepishly. ❝ Okay, alright. Sorry! Look, can't you just try to tell me I'm wrong and I'm an idiot tomorrow? When there's not a goddamn storm outside?❞ 

He makes a step to the door but Robin blocks him and she's ranting, going on and on about how the two of you are the most stubborn individuals she's ever had the pleasure of knowing. 

❝ Just say it, Robin.❞ Steve murmurs, gazing at his best friend, throughly confused.

❝ She’s in love with you, idiot! ❞ Robin blurts it out as she thrusts a piece of  paper that you'd doodled on earlier in the week when you came in to hang out with her on his day off at him and nods to it, ❝ If she wasn’t, she wouldn’t constantly doodle her first name and your last all over everything! Girls..we don't uh..we don't do that unless we're head over heels, idiot! She does it all the time! And she's always waiting up when you’re out with the guys or some random girl. She constantly talks about you.. I'm telling you, she really loves you, shes just…scared.❞ 

Steve stares at the sheet of paper with the Family Video letterhead on top of it, dazed.

❝ She’s at your apartment and when I talked to her a few minutes ago, this storm had her freaking out. Do something, idiot. She won't because she's scared it's going to make things awkward.❞ 

❝ Wait…what do you mean, freaking out?❞ he's concerned as soon as Robin hints that there's something wrong, that you're even a little scared right now.

Robin shakes her head and laughs. ❝ Storms, Steve. She’s scared to death of storms. Kind of happens when you've lived through a hurricane and at least 10 tornaodes.❞ 

Steve gapes at this. One of his hands raises, fingers tug at shaggy brown strands as he inhales deep and then exhales slowly. Like he's just gotten the breath knocked right out of him. And in a way, he has.

❝ She’s there.. Waiting for me..❞ Steve questions. Robin nods, ❝ All alone in this storm. Scared.❞  she places heavy emphasis on the fact that you're alone and scared because she knows you both entirely too well at this point. He needs to feel strong. Protective. Whenever he gets all strong and protective, it melts you completely.

Steve blows out a ragged breath. A hand rested against the back of his head as he stares down at the doodled piece of paper. 

Your first name and his last.

It fits together so perfectly. Everything falls into place and he looks at Robin. ❝ You.. You’re not kidding.❞ 

❝ No, dingus! Just go! I'll take over tonight. Just go! Do something or I swear to God..❞ Robin laughs as Steve pockets his keys and grabs his jacket in a rush, nearly walking straight into the closed door of Family Video in his hurry to get to you.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ ･ ｡ﾟ ───

The power is out and the storm is getting so much worse. You’re pacing the living room, pausing every few seconds to stare out the big window that leads to the fire escape as you hug yourself.

❝ God, I just hope he's okay and he doesn't let Billy or Tommy or Eddie con him into going out in this crap after his shift.❞ you mumble to yourself, shrieking as the lightning strikes the tree across the street. 

You're so caught up in the storm and freaking out about it that you don't hear the door when Steve unlocks it from the outside. Or the way he pauses to call out your name because the rumbling thunder drowns out his voice.

But he hears you just as you've shrieked at how close the lightning is getting.

Strong arms circle your waist from behind and you jump, shrieking again with a dirty look as Steve turns you around and shines the old red flashlight beneath his chin, just barely illuminating the lower portion of his face. He chuckles and as the husky sound fades, you pout up at him.

❝ Are you okay?❞ - he's quieter when he asks, honey eyes so tender as they fix on you in concern. He’s chuckling too but only a little.

He doesn't like the thought of anything scaring you.

❝ Y-yeah.It's dumb.❞ you laugh, the sound quiet, a sheepish shrug as your head tilts just the slightest to look up at him. ❝ You'd think after I lived through a hurricane on the coast and at least ten tornadoes, this.❞ you gesture to the raging storm outside the big window, ❝ Wouldn’t bother me at all.❞ 

❝Hey, hey.❞ he coaxes as he pulls you against him, ❝ You’re okay. Its okay.❞ and the way his hand skims over your back sends a shiver racing through you. You pull away a little to look up at him and nod. Through shaky breaths, you mumble ❝ I..I know.❞ -the sound is muffled because a louder clap of thunder sends your head into his chest as you seek comfort.

His fingers drag through your hair and for a minute or two, he stands in the darkness, holding you close. He's not saying a word and neither are you at first but then the silence is too much, it's too thick and you just can't take any more. You pull away a little and he frowns to himself because he misses the soft warmth of you pressing against him. 

❝ I'm..❞ you pause. Take a deep breath or two and stare up at the way the moonlight and lightning highlight a strong and stubble-lined jaw. 

❝ You’re what?❞ Steve questions, fingers tuck beneath your chin to get you looking up at him again. ❝ C'mon. I can’t help if I don’t know whats wrong.❞

❝ I..I'm glad you’re here right now and...❞ you're stumbling over your words and trying to make your usual internal filter work but it's just about gone, you manage a quieter ❝ Nevermind..its probably dumb t' say.❞

He tilts your chin upward again because you're looking down, a steady gaze fixed on his chest. You can't help it, the more you look at him, the harder it is not to completely bare your soul. ❝ No, just say it.❞ he coaxes. When you try, the words that have been threatening to burst out, those three big ones, they're lodged in your throat and it's frustrating for you, so very frustrating.

❝ You are, huh?❞ he chuckles to himself after a few seconds of the thick silence, the sound dying out quietly as he stares down at you. What you said, that you're glad he's with you, that starts to sink in. And he’s on autopilot.

❝ Yeah. I was worried you'd be stuck driving in the worst of it. Or you'd let one of the guys talk you into drinks again tonight. ❞ you mumble quietly as you take a deep breath. ❝ I always worry about you when you're out...❞

His heart is so goddamn full when you say it that he thinks it just might explode. ❝ You were, huh?❞ he questions as he makes you look up at him all over again, ❝ I wanted to come home. To make sure you were okay.❞ he admits, going quiet for a few seconds.

You're the one stunned silent, you blink at him in surprise as you try to process what he's just saying. He wanted to come back. To the apartment. To make sure you were alright.

You try to give him just a little space as you tell yourself he obviously meant it in a friendly way, not the way you wish, the way a concerned lover would mean what he's just said. You pulling away has him frowning to himself in the semi darkness.

❝ Where are you going,hm?❞ his voice husky, full of affection that he can't just keep holding back. He pulls you close all over again and he can feel the fast thudthudthud thud as your heart hammers against your chest. He can feel the way you're shaking just barely.

Robin is right he thinks to himself one of us needs to say something. Do something. And I can't fight anymore.

You breathe in the scent of his cologne, the faint trace of cigarette smoke and buttery popcorn that clings to the scratchy green Family Video vest he's yet to take off. And you’re trying so hard not to invade his space any more than he allows but he pulls you even closer and before you can stop yourself, you're melting into him. Strong arms wrap around you tighter. 

❝ Nowhere, I..I just thought..❞ your words are cut off by his mouth as it crashes against your mouth, clumsy. Sweet. You can taste the cigarette and soda on his breath and it takes a second but you realize what's happening and melt into him even more, your hand raised and raking through damp brown hair as your mouth falls open, willing. 

Steve bends down slightly, hands on your ass as he pulls you up his body. The kiss deepens, you're breathing for each other now and one of your hands settles soft against his stubbled cheek. He nuzzles against your palm as he steps over to the sofa and sinks down, arranging you in his lap.

His hands are all over you, his nose brushes against your neck as he nuzzles some fallen hair out of his way. Your breath catches in your throat as rough lips dance hot against your pulse, latching against soft skin here and there. 

You're shifted forward in his lap as he makes a clumsy attempt to adjust himself and pull you closer at the same time. When you whine out softly against his neck as your lips stray from his, he pauses, staring up at the way you're perched on his lap. The moonlight highlights your delicate features and he’s mesmerized by you, a hand leaves its resting place on your ass to settle against the column of your neck. Before he can stop himself, he's leaning in, his mouth crashing against yours, devouring as a groan leaves his lips to hang in the air, followed by a whine from you as you squirm around in his lap, desperate for the friction you were getting a few minutes ago.

You're the one who deepens the kiss, your small, soft hand rested up against his neck to pull him in. His hand leaves your hip to card through and pull lightly at your thick hair as he deepens the kiss even more.

His other hand slips between your joined bodies as you pull apart to breathe, staring at one another wide-eyed and in awe. It settles beneath the hem of the shirt you've sneaked out of his laundry to sleep in most nights lately.

❝ Steve?❞ - you breathe his name out against his mouth as another loud pop explodes outside and sends you straight for the safety that only he has ever seemed to offer you. Your face is buried in his neck for a few seconds and he attempts to adjust himself, thick digits dig in against your thigh and lower back when you squirm a little, his cock pulsing, pushed against the zip of his favorite jeans. ❝ Yeah?❞ - his breath tickles your neck, the sound of his voice thicker, desire dripping from the word.

He tilts your chin, gets you looking up at him. He's barely hanging on, his restraint is a thin thread that frays just a little more every time you rub yourself against him or your lips graze his neck just right. ❝ What’s up, princess?❞

❝ I-I..❞ the words hang in your throat just shy of saying them. It's frustrating because all you want to do is tell him how much you love him. 

❝ You what, hm? C'mon, you can tell me.. I-I mean it. You can tell me anything, okay?❞ he mutters, dipping his mouth, placing soft little pecks against your face and neck as the hand on your thigh slips under the shirt you're wearing, tenderly caressing, the touch of his hand making you whimper and rock yourself against him. He bucks himself up into you, a hand raised to brush some hair out of your eyes. 

❝ I love you.❞ it finally slips out and as it does, so does the rest that you've held back for weeks now. ❝ I love you.❞ he mutters, his lips dance down your throbbing pulse as he murmurs quietly, ❝ I love you too, princess..❞ his lips latch against your skin, ❝ so, so much.❞ looking up to lock eyes with you before giving a glance to the marks he's left against your skin.

His hand creeps higher, when he starts to rub you through your panties, he growls quietly when his hand comes away wet, bucking himself up into you. ❝Want you so bad, princess.❞ he mutters, dazed as he stands, you wrapped around him, breathless. Muttering his name like he's your God and you're worshipping him. ❝ Lets see if we can take your mind off the storm, baby.. do you want me to help you do that?❞

You nod, back up against the cool wooden door, the knob poking at your side and your legs around his waist. His hands -and mouth, are all over you as he ruts himself into you, the battle with his restraint lost.

❝ Please?❞ you gasp out as you rub against him clumsily. He's marked up your neck and no doubt, come the morning, there will be a few handprints left behind against your skin because he's holding onto you and squeezing you like your lives depend on it.

The storm is forgotten, you're tossed gently onto his bed as he follows you down, his body engulfing yours, holding your legs apart by the way he settles between them. The Family Video vest finds its way to the floor and everything is happening fast and yet, not fast enough. He’s tugging down pretty pink cotton and as your panties settle on his bedroom floor, he leans down into you closer, a hand between your thighs, ❝ I did this..❞ he murmurs against your ear as soon as he feels the way you're already dripping for him. He's dazed, he hasn't really done anything to you yet and there's already a little wet spot forming below you on his bed. And you're so responsive, every touch or kiss, every time he squeezes and rubs your warm, wet sex you're whining, you arch yourself towards him like he's not as close as he can get already. 

❝ You’re wearing too much.❞ you whine out against the shell of his ear in frustration as your legs circle his waist and you keep trying to rub against him to chase the friction you've gotten so desperate for. Your hand finds the bottom of the snug fit brown and cream striped polo he wore to work and you're trying to tug it upward. Steve chuckles quietly as he raises up, pulling off his shirt.

The polo settles on the floor of his bedroom beside your discarded panties and he settles himself back down against you, his lower body keeping your legs open wide as his mouth strays from your mouth and his lips latch against your pulse, suction forming a bruise you can feel as he sucks your neck, marking you.

❝ — ah fuck.❞ he growls quietly as he ruts himself against you, chasing his own friction. ❝ W-wanna taste you, princess.❞ his breath is warm against your skin, soft pecks fall from rough lips, settling on your soft and warm skin. His hands linger at the bottom of the soft golden colored sweater you stole from him to wear. You bite your lip as you stare up at him, begging. His name falls out of your mouth like a prayer, urgent; needy. 

He chuckles to himself, pulling you up as he works the oversized sweatshirt over your head, letting it fall from his fingertips and settle on his bedroom floor with the other clothes. 

You go for the button on his jeans and there's this cute little shy smile you give as the two of you lock eyes while you're doing it that drives him wild.As you unzip his jeans, he gasps because your hand grazes against the way his cock is straining against soft navy cotton, begging to be freed. His head falls back for a second or two, honey eyes flutter closed as you just barely drag your finger over the thick outline. 

That's how you find yourself pushed back against the bed seconds later as soon as he's kicked jeans and boxers free from his ankles.

You swallow hard, eyes roam his body slow. Desire making your pupils big enough they blot out the usual color of your irises. It's the first time anyone has ever looked at him with more than temporary lust in their gaze. He’s pushed you against his bed now, you were so caught up in staring at the man you love that you never saw it coming when it happened.

One hand pins your wrists above your head as his other hand squeezes your curvy little body and he takes in the way it feels to cage you in beneath him, skin against skin and the cookie sweet scent of your cheap perfume filling his lungs as he nuzzles into your neck and breathes it in deep.

He rocks himself against you, the thick length of him dragging right between your folds and when you shiver and whine, he raises up, hand leaving your hip to caress your cheek as he stares down at you, in awe. ❝ So pretty, baby.❞ he mutters as he settles down into you all over again, the tip of his length teasing you, making that white hot ache that's built up inside of you boil over. 

❝ You’re the pretty one.❞ you mumble softly as your lips latch against his hot skin. Your soft,full lips against the top of his chest -right over the way his heart is about to beat right out of his chest, it feels so good that he gasps quietly.

He releases his hold on your wrists because he'd rather be holding your hand. His fingers lace with yours and he takes a little nip at your bottom lip when he goes in for another kiss, a string of saliva keeping your mouths connected after you break apart to breathe. 

❝ Don't let me hurt you, princess.❞ he mutters soft against your ear as he settles himself down into you fully, his thick length pushing into you, drawing a gasp out as you feel the burn of being stretched out. 

He feels you tense up slightly and he stops right away, making you whine in need as you pout up at him. ❝ I don’t wanna hurt you.❞ he murmurs as he presses hot and gentle kisses and bites against your bare skin, leaving his mark behind as many times as he can because he wants everyone to know you’re taken, you’re his girl now, absolutely no doubt.

❝ Please? I-I..I need you now, Steve.❞ you beg as you try to rock yourself up into him as the burning subsides and its replaced by all the dopamine you’re currently flooded with being thisclose to the man you love, the feel of his body engulfing yours. Steve starts to fuck into you and its slow, its gentle and so deep that every inch of him is felt as he buries inside you. 

You raise a hand, letting it catch against his cheek and he laughs softly, nuzzled against your palm. His forehead settles against yours.

The way you clamp around him so tight has him groaning your name with each lazy little thrust. He tries to speed up a little but he can feel himself getting closer so he comes to a slow stop, kissing you long and deep enough to totally steal your breath.

The nasty storm outside has been completely forgotten and it's come to a slowdown, the loud and angry thunder replaced by the soft pitter-patter of rain against the windows. Neither of you notice or care, too focused on what's happening between the two of you instead.

You meet his deep thrusts with clumsy little rocks, your hips meeting his perfectly in sync. ❝ S' good f' me, baby. So so good.❞ he grunts against your neck as he bottoms out, cock pushing against the spongy softness of your g-spot as your nails dig against his shoulders and rake over his back. ❝ Gonna cum f' me, princess? That's it, cum all over my cock.❞ and the command is all it takes to send you crashing, your orgasm blinding as it washes over you and you cling to his body, moaning his name as you clamp around his cock and nearly push him straight into his own orgasm.

❝ Let go, Steve. Cmon baby.❞ you coax because you're dying to feel him come undone, you want him to fill you up. He bites your lip and his thrusts get clumsy as he fucks through his own orgasm, hot seed painting your insides. He falls to the bed beside you, spent. You’re pulled on top of him and he wraps you in his arms, pulling you down against him completely. 

❝ You’re amazing, princess.❞ he mutters softly just as you're both starting to doze off..

[silentime]

@jgoldberg | cont.

Sarah sat on a chair near the counter, her feet dangled above the ground. The joy of being short. Her backpack tucked underneath her seat. Those green eyes wouldzig zag around the area; admiring the condition of Joe's home. It was cozy and welcoming. She liked that. If she owned a home, she hoped it would be just as cozy and welcoming to those that visited as Joe has it.

Books were a rather rare item to live under the same roof as Sarah. Her grandparents tended to be a bit old fashion, believing reading was nothing more but a waste of time. Unless one chose to read the newspaper or the bible. Her grandparents would not allow their only grandchild to read, but that did not stop her from sneaking a few books; Nancy Drew and a few fantasy books. She more so enjoyed reading fantasy; often wishing she could go on such adventures like those characters did.

She smiled, it was genuine. She enjoyed hearing Joe's words, rarely did she meet someone that she could discuss about books with. It was nice topic of conversation for her. Her head would tilt, carrying a curious expression. It was book title she never heard of, but it did sound intriguing for her to at least check it out.

Once again, that sweet smile would make its way back on her freckled face, gently picking up her marker - removing its cap and pressed the tip against the blank page of her notebook.

'I've never heard of - ' Oh no! Her marker dried out. With a sigh of frustration, she would pull her backpack from under the chair. She placed her marker inside the front pocket of her backpack, proceeding to unzip and rummage through it. With luck, she found a marker - she should probably buy a few more sometime soon.

She would flash him a shy smile, her a way of apologizing. Shoving her backpack once more underneath the chair before resuming to take a seat. 'That book before, I'll check it out!' She scribbled down.

'I need to try and read other books that are not part of the fantasy genre. Could you give me a few recommendations? I do not care what genre they fall under, as long as its not scary...'

[imeanitplsmorenamifics]

hellloooo, could you do cowboy like me with nami pleaseee? the song is in my nami playlist 😭😭

Hey, hey! I definitely can write it for you! This has to be the most Nami request you could have chosen tbh 😂. I made sure to make it as accurate to her character as possible because of that. I hope you enjoy it! You can find my Flower Asks here, Hozier asks are here, and my Taylor Swift Asks here. You can find my masterlist here and my rules here. And you can request here! Also, don’t know if anyone will notice, but the reader’s story is definitely based on Inbar Lavi’s character in Imposters. cowboy like me: You never expected to fall in love and yet here you are. In love with them of all people. Characters: Nami, GN!Reader Pairing: Nami x GN!Reader TW: None that I can think of, but tell me if there are!

cowboy like me

.·:·.✧ ✦✧.·:·.

There was no way that you were ever going to fall in love. That was something that had solidified in your mind for years now. With your job, there was no room or time for it. The job of having people fall in love with you. It was pretty simple, for you, at least. You worked with two older people named Colt and Lola, who had one other person over them, who they called the Boss. The Boss was a powerful man. Some people would consider him a god because of how untouchable he was. He had many connections. He could make anything possible. Because of this, he wasn’t one to get his hands dirty. He had other people do it for him.

One group that worked for him was Colt, Lola, and you. You weren’t always part of their group. You joined later when Colt and Lola decided to take you under their wing. You had no family. The only thing you had was a knack for acting and deceiving people. This resulted in one of the best scams that the Boss utilized to get the things he most wanted done and over with. The Boss had you pose as a new person who the target would fall in love with while Colt and Lola would find other ways to get close to the target.

The scams were simple. You received a folder of the target, and you, along with the other two, studied it like it was the new edition of the Bible. Colt and Lola would find certain things that the target might need (a maid or treasurer, for example) and would become what they needed. Your job was the most important.

When you looked at the file, you focused on what the person was missing in their life. Whatever it was, you would become that for them. You would be their adventure. You would be their sweet, doting love. You would be their main motivator. You would keep this up until things were locked in (whether that be you dating for a while or even marriage), and the Boss gave the order. Most of the time, the scam would just be to get the person’s money. Usually, the targets were people who owed the Boss money. Sometimes, the scheme was used for informational purposes.

The most recent scheme was information-based. A file was placed on the table of the small boat you, Colt, and Lola shared. You looked up at the older man’s piercing stare. He only gestured for you to look through the file. You sighed, reaching forward and grabbing the file. When you opened it up, you were met with the picture of a woman with orange hair and blue eyes. The picture was obviously taken without her knowing.

“The Boss wants us to target her next,” Colt stated.

A scoff escaped you, “Yeah, I thought that was kind of obvious.” You tilted your head as your finger caressed the picture of the woman. You had to admit, she was definitely very good-looking. Her name was Nami, huh? Interesting name. You didn’t hear much like it in all the places you’d been to so far.

Your comment was not appreciated by Colt. He had a look of anger on his face as he bent down to look you in the eye. Feeling this breath on you, you looked up at him with a bored expression. This ticked him off a little more, “Are you going to take this seriously?” He gritted out. “You messed up with the last target.”

“We got the money in the end!” You exclaimed. That was all you’d been hearing since your last scam was up. “You messed up this time.” “Don’t get so distracted.” “Keep your head clear.” “Do you want the Boss to find out about this?” It was always the same thing with him. You were getting sick of it.

He was getting sick of your attitude, “We almost didn’t!”

This is when Lola stepped in. If you had a favorite out of the two, it would definitely be her. She was kind of like a mother figure to you. She took care of you, looked out for you, and even stood up for you when Colt was being a bitch. You didn’t think you would have survived in this game as long as you have without her by your side. As those two went off to argue away from you, you continued to look over the file with that same bored expression on your face.

At first, you thought this would be some kind of big break. You wouldn’t have to go through any more unnecessary suffering. You could finally do something that could help your future. You didn’t want to be one of those people who scraped together everything they had to get by. You wanted to be someone who was well off and didn’t have to worry about material things. If you asked the younger you, the you that was just getting into these scams, you would’ve told future you that you were having the best time of your life. Now? Well, it’s different now.

Asking you now would get you a much different answer. You were tired. Tired of pretending all the time. Tired of forcing yourself to fall in love with small things about the people you’re scamming so you don’t lose your mind. You just wanted to breathe for once instead of huffing for breath because you’ve been running for so long. But it wasn’t that simple. People don’t leave the Boss. You’re in it for life, or you die. It was that simple.

You wondered what this poor girl did to have the Boss target her. Colt and Lola walked into the room at that moment. Might as well ask, “Why does the Boss want us to go after her?”

Of course, the first thing Colt said was, “Are you questioning the Boss’ decision?” From how much Colt talked about the Boss, you would think he was obsessed with him. That he might look up to him in some way. That was far from the truth. He was terrified of the man. Terrified of losing his life if he doesn’t comply with whatever demand the so-called deity might throw out.

All the answer you gave him was a, “Really?” look. Thankfully, Lola, being the angel she was, answered your question, “Nami works with Arlong and his fishmen. They’ve been doing business with the Boss for a while, but lately, they’ve been working with one of the Boss’ enemies. He wants you to get close to her,” You gave a look of interest to Lola. Why did she only include you in that statement? “Colt and I have been ordered to get close with other members of Arlong’s crew.”

“So this one you do on your own,” Colt spoke up. His expression was stern, and his voice was commanding, “Don’t screw things up this time.”

“I won’t,” You sighed annoyedly.

That’s what you said. That’s what you said.

It didn’t take much planning to meet Nami. You bumped into her “on accident” on the island she’d been on for a little bit of time. She was originally from Coco Village, according to her file. But the island she was on was not Coco Village. It was close to it but still pretty far. There was one thing that surprised you. It was how forthcoming she was toward you.

She acted like she didn’t mind having you around. It was like she enjoyed your presence. This puzzled you a bit. From what you’d read about her, she was closed off. Nami wasn’t one to just accept anyone the moment they said hi to her. But she did exactly that with you. It was then that it hit you. She was using you like you were using her.

Now, this was something you were supposed to have reported to Colt and/or Lola as soon as you figured it out. They would need to tell the Boss about it so they could all figure out how to tread with the scheme. You didn’t tell them anything about it. It was interesting to you. How she knew you were using her and decided to use it to benefit her in the end. You think the moment you figured that out was the moment it started it all for you.

Over time, it began to get harder and harder to pretend. You could tell it was getting harder for Nami as well. It wasn’t because you couldn’t tolerate each other. It was far from it, actually. You were beginning to get way too close, too invested, too… You were falling so deep, and so was she. It was a dangerous game. Two players got too swept up in the game, and now the game was playing them. You should’ve stopped.

But you didn’t.

This should’ve stopped you, but it only pushed you to go further. The two of you became a couple. A couple with honest-to-god, real feelings for each other. You never told her about the Boss, or Colt, or Lola. She never told you about Arlong and the fishmen. None of that mattered to you. All that mattered was who you were with each other.

So once the two of you got dragged along with a boy in a straw hat. Things started to come to light. Specifically, when you ended up at the restaurant called Baratie and Arlong showed up. Nami revealed to them all that she was working with him. She looked at you for your reaction. She was only met with an understanding look. She knew that you knew.

And you were one of the main people leading the crusade against Arlong to help her. For someone that the Boss had it out for, he wasn’t that intimidating. Sure, he was big and had a nose with sharp spikes, but he wasn’t the worst that you’d ever seen. When he saw you standing with Nami and Luffy, ready to fight against him, you could tell that he wanted to see it all fall apart for her.

That’s probably why he stared pointedly at you and said, “You do know what she was doing with you, right?” You remained straight-faced. “She was using you. She was telling me everything that you told her so I could finally get out of the damned deal with the Boss.” A smirk was on his face. He was ready to see the betrayed expression on your face.

A smirk of your own grew onto your face, “I know… And frankly, I don’t care.” You and the girl smiled at each other. You weren’t supposed to actually fall in love with your target, but you did. Maybe it wasn’t as bad as you thought it would be.

[the-fiction-witch]

Well find her P5

Media - The Queens Gambit Character - Benny Watts Couple - Benny X Reader Reader - Y/n Watts Rating - Sad AF! Cute AF Word Count - 2613

warnings - SA / abuse/ homophobia/ religious extremism/ horror/ blood/ gore/

The room fell silent as Mr Whitemore's words lingered, leaving a palpable stillness that hung in the air. Eventually, Miss Peters turned her focus back to Violet.

"Miss Watts. When you awoke in the basement of Mr Whitemore's Corner Store, what did you find there?" Miss Peters began again,

"A cupboard,"

"A cupboard?"

"It was a small room, with bible pages on the walls, crosses everywhere, the room was too little to lay or really sit. Just enough to stand in." She said, "I screamed but begged for help but ..."

"None came,"

"No,"

"Exhibit C, a small cupboard designed for a water heater in the basement of Whitemore Corner Store. Not the walls lined with bible scripture, copper and silver crosses and the door labelled with a phrase." She explained, "Mr Whitemore, for the court. What is that phrase?"

"The Christ Closet," he answered,

"And pray tell Miss Watts, what would happen in the Christ Closet?"

"Mr Whitemore would push me inside, lock the door from the outside. He would do so whenever he told me I was being sinful, he'd leave me for hours, days even, without food, water ... the bathroom,"

"what was the longest time you remember being locked in there Violet?"

"... the longest, without water was three days, the longest with him giving me water three weeks."

I squeezed Y/n's hand almost to the point of hurting her but she did the same her nails digging into my hand as we listened... to our little girl, our sweet baby girl, explain what that man did to her. He is so lucky. so very very lucky. cause the first chance I get that man alone... he's dead.

"In total, you were his prisoner for two years?"

"Yes, Two years," she nodded, "But... it felt like so much longer,"

"Exhibit D, The basement of Whitemore Corner store,"

The picture came up, the walls a grey brick, lined with shelves of merchandise, a mattress on the floor with a TV, blanket, a radiator and a bucket,

"The basement was full of items for his business, Miss Watts was chained to the radiator for days at a time with no access to water, no access to the toilet, the only light that of a 1967 17-inch Zenith TV." Miss Peters explained, "And what was plaid on this TV Miss Watts?"

"It didn't get a signal, so the TV had an old 70's VCR. The tape he plaid was for a large-scale mass church service, the tape would play day in and day out the only break when it would reach its end and the machine would rewind it and start again."

"That sounds hellish... but that's not even the begining of what was done to you Miss Watts, if you have the strength. I'd like for you to tell the court sparing no details. What happened to you while under Mr Whitemore's abduction."

Violet sighed gathering her courage,

I did my best to prepare myself. I knew what had happened to her but I had never pushed to know the gory details. I wasn't sure I could handle it, but I needed to know, I wanted to know. So I can go to him with the knowledge of everything he's done and punish him accordingly,

"Mr Whitemore... is a horrible man. He's a monster. he took me and hid me away from my family, no matter how much I begged him to let me go home, or even just to call my parents to tell them I was alive. I offered him to ransom me back to my family but he said the money was not his gain. He was going to keep me until I was better or so he said. When I behaved I was his 'good girl' a term that still makes me shiver even now, when I was less behaved he called me... a monster, a demon, a creature of sin, dike and other such things. He made me wear a dress for a little school girl, He would make me work unpacking boxes for hours, he would starve me until I begged him for food, and if I stole food he would strike me with an old copper pipe, he would take a spray bottle and fill it with ice cold water to spray at me like a cat, he would isolate me never letting me see the sun, speak to anyone but him, and playing that horrible tape over and over so I lost all track of time." She explained, "But the worst of it... was his 'Conversion Therapies', he said I was a monster for being gay, said I was broken, sinful, filled with demons and hellish ideas, that I had been possessed and corrupted by satan."

"What were these therapies, Violet?"

"He would lock me to the radiator and force me to watch adult tapes. Made me watch porn only heterosexual porn, hit me or spray me with water if I looked away so I had no choice but to watch them, he'd make me say how much I liked them even if I lied. If he suspected I was lying he'd... put his hand up my dress and check if I was aroused. When he played these tapes he'd sit and he'd touch me with his hands, 'Arousal therapy' he called it, trying to force me to be aroused whenever I watched them. He'd touch me other times, at night or when I was working trying to make me attracted to him, and aroused to his touch, like I was supposed to be he said. He'd chain me to the bed and have his way with me forcing me to tell him I enjoyed it. He was trying to change me, he said if I gave up my hellish ways' he'd let me go. I tried to lie but... he never believed me." She wiped her tears,

"As I said at the start of the trial, I need not prove his guilt merely to let you see the monster this man is."

So did many others in the courtroom including the judge and Y/n but I didn't cry I wanted to, but I was so full of rage.

"Thank you, Miss Watts, I think we have all heard enough. I shall adjourn court for a five-minute break, I think all of us need a moment to breathe and collect ourselves." The judge explained,

Everyone slowly filled into the lobby, Us included taking the time for the bathroom, getting some water, and changing Sterling. When she came back from drying her eyes I wrapped my arms around Violet so tight I may have been crushing her, Y/n cuddled her too even little baby Sterling laying his head on her.

"You are... the bravest girl in this world, do you know that?" I told her, "You didn't have to do this, you could have sat at home and just sent your statement but you did it. We are so proud of you." I told her,

"We really are Violet," Y/n reassured,

"Thanks, Mom, Thanks Dad," She nodded,

"Hey," I smiled, "Anything you want for dinner, you pick the place we're going." I told her kissing her forehead, "And ice cream after."

"soft serve?" she asked,

"Nope, scoops. And you can pick as many flavours as you want." I smiled, "You ready to go back in?"

"Yeah I'll go grab our seats," She nodded heading back inside,

I sighed, "I am gonna-"

"I know." Y/n smiled kissing my cheek, "He's very lucky he hasn't gotten a high heel to the cranium."

"Or a knife to the cock. Good, we're on the same page,"

"Umm," She nodded, "Daddy?" She giggled holding Sterling up to get a cuddle from me too,

"Aww, hi little boy," I cooed kissing him,

"Daddy, can I and Mommy get ice cream too? Of unlimited scoops?"

"... I'll think about it," I smirked kissing her as I took Sterling, "Come on let's get back and get this over with. I wanna watch him burn."

We headed back in and took our seats again now it was his turn to sit in the box and answer his memories of things,

"The Police came to check your store, Mr Whitemore, due to reports of fake tobacco products," Miss Peters asked him,

"Yes, a routine check. Not my issue. The supplier." he nodded,

"And yet then doing this inspection they found Miss Watts?"

"They did yes,"

"So you admit you hit her, and dragged her to your basement, and you admit they found her in your basement two years later? Sounds like kidnapping and forced entrapment to me, Mr Whitemore."

"I never denied that,"

"You don't deny you held Miss Watts against her will?" The judge asked,

"No, I do not Your Honour,"

"Then how can you claim not to be guilty? You kidnapped a minor and held her against her will in your basement for two years even if you say you did not harm her, that is still kidnapping Mr Whitemore." The Judge explained,

"I did what I had to do."

"Care to explain yourself, Mr Whitemore?" Miss Peters asked, "Explain why you feel you are not guilty,"

"They must be made to listen..." He said, "That is the good word the lord passed to me when I was but a boy, I am one of those sweet sheep with a mind clear enough to listen to all the love and all the words he sends to us, the good lord told me that they must be made to listen to all those who harbour a demon, all those whom sin and think vile thoughts, all of them must be made to listen to the word of god. To see the light, see the error of their ways, and be brought back to the kingdom of heaven. And that fine day... The good lord sent me a message that this sinner must be made to see the light. She must be made to understand her sinfulness. She was only a child, still as innocent as the mother Mary, but she was still able to be saved. So Our father told me, he spoke to me and told me I should be the one to cure her."

"You claim Mr Whitemore, that god spoke to you and told you to Kidnap Miss Watts to cure her homosexuality?"

"Yes, he did."

"You don't deny this?"

"I do not."

"You don't deny that you kidnapped her?"

"No."

"That you abused her?"

"No."

"That you raped her!"

"No."

"For what reason Mr Whitemore!"

"Because she is a monster! All of them are monsters! And you are all monsters for allowing it! Everything I did I did in the name of god! And I would do all of it again if it would mean one less of these demons on our streets! I did for the lord so there are no rules that need apply to him,"

"But you Mr Whitemore are under the rules and laws of our country and of human decency!"

"I am doing God's will!" He shouted, "I take my words from god as there is no higher authority!" He yelled getting to his feet,

"Sit down Mr Whitemore!" The Judge demanded,

"Even if you punish me for following his word, he will reward me for what I have done!"

The officers forced him down again,

"I have heard enough. We will return when a decision is made,"

As they forcibly dragged him away, he continued to shout in protest. The judge and jury solemnly exited the room, leaving us waiting anxiously for what felt like an eternity, uncertain of the outcome. I held Violet close, feeling a mix of emotions as I pondered what fate awaited him. The weight of the situation left me torn, as none of the possible outcomes seemed adequate.

Let him go? Never.

Lock him up? He'd still eat, talk to people, and maybe get TV. too good for him.

Injection? To quick, he should suffer for what he's done to her.

I wanted to watch him die, horribly, slowly, and painfully. I wanted to beat him senselessly, torture him, burn him alive, take him off just before he died, half drown him, waterboard him, and bury him alive. Even that didn't seem enough.

But finally, they returned, they brought him back in and made him stand as the judge explained his fate.

"Jacob Abraham Whitemore, You stand here on this the 20th of May 1987 inside Brooklynn East Court House. Accused of Kidnapping, Rape of a Minor, Abuse of a Minor, Sexual Abuse of a Minor and other offences. In not denying your crimes you have saved this court time and money, however, your non-guilty plea has wasted time, and emotional distress for your victim, her family and everyone here today. The jury and myself have deliberated over your fate and the decision has been made." He said, "The crimes you have committed are horrific, the fact you feel your god had ordered you to do such acts to your fellow human being and that you hide behind the umbrella of your religion is shameful, despicable, and insulting as a Christian. You are to be sent to Bakersfield Maximum Security Prison where you will be incarcerated in a solitary cell, but this will only be temporary, While you await your execution but electrocution." He said, "You are officially sentenced to death by electrocution."

The sound of the bang echoed out across the courtroom,

"God will forgive me for this! he will reward me!" He swore and screamed as he was dragged away but I didn't listen I just held Sterling, and Y/n in my arms so thankful that this would be over. I looked at Violet and saw her reaction, strangely she didn't have one.

"Are you okay sweetheart?"

"Yeah." She nodded a tear slipping from her lips, "I'm so happy," she nodded hugging us tightly "I love you guys so much,"

"We love you too, we both do," I reassured her,

"Come on, let's all get out of here," Y/n smiled putting Sterling in his pram and holding Violet's hand as they headed out, "Any thoughts where you wanna go for dinner sweetheart?"

"Mr Watts?" The judge said as he came up to our seats,

"Oh uhh Hi," I smiled, "Thank you, I can't even begin to explain how happy she is, and we are."

"I'm glad, but I wanted to speak with you." He said, "I always do a bit of digging into cases before the day, and I must say you and your wife... it very rare a couple will fight for their child's search as long as you did, kept their toes to the fire I must say."

"We always knew we'd find her. We never lost hope for our little girl to come home."

"That's commendable," He nodded, "Most marriages don't survive a child going missing either,"

"... I admit, things were hard between us for a while," I said looking back to Y/n as she cradled Sterling and chatted with Violet as they waited for me, "She shut down when we lost her, for a while I didn't know if I'd ever get the woman I married back. I almost lost her more than once... But truly there is nothing I wouldn't do for those girls." I smiled,

"I wish you only the best Mr Watts, you and your family."

"Thank you, judge," I nodded,

He offered his hand so I shook it before I turned heading out to meet with the girls,

"Hey, we decided?" I smiled taking Sterling and giving him a little cuddle,

"Yeah, Pizza Hut." Violet nodded,

"Pizza Hut?" I chuckled, "Alright if that's what you want, unlimited breadsticks, pizza and we'll get ice cream on the way home."

Everyone agreed so we headed out the court, putting this whole mess behind us focusing on the only thing that matters. Our family. 

[daystarvoyage]

Hey! I know most people like to imagine Philip's reaction upon seeing Lilith centuries later and realizes that she's the one who punched him in the face but hear me out and imagine this:

Ghost Caleb who's following his brother around/ Papa Titan watching Philip through the cubes and both sees Lilith punching Philip in the Deadwardian era: .... He deserved that...

Both men centuries later, seeing a younger Lilith and recognizes her: OMG, it's her! *immediately starts the countdown when will Lilith go back in time*

hmmm, I do feel you're talking about the interactions with the claw-thrones & witter banes in the show,

SO I'm going to make this elaborate answer,

But I have a lot to add along this by ranting in my input.

Yes, I do feel that was a lost opportunity to flesh out these groups more, cause Eda is a main character, with Lilith being her sister, which should've been explored properly.

along with their family Gwen & dill, they were the coolest characters shown, Gwen to be exact ever since her debut showing off her magical prowess.

The father's Name I think?, I feel he never got proper exposure except for that strained family moment episode, and that’s it so that’s a missed opportunity.

(SIGH It's weird how they treat the MEN in the show very weird, cause they didn’t make a prominent impact like the females, ANOTHER TOPIC SOON.)

we never get any future closure within the series centered around the family, cause they could've made room to due alot, let alone even a conversation, or more advancements on how IDK the palismen can properly excel the magic system within the show CAUSE DILL HAS KNOWLEDGE OF THEM.

As for lilith time travel episode,

Ghost Caleb Shoudve made a debut in season 2 instead being muddled with discourse to have more characters who haven't had proper spotlight to Get to know them being overshadowed.

I mean its a fantasy show, you have to have proper worldbuilding and lore being talked about more, Which the whole show-and-tell thing didn't work out cause it was never explored again, plus the time travel aspect should've contributed a lot more but was played off just for bplot manner that should've been bigger, (unlike another episode with one bplot overtook a certain characters spotlight?!)

LIKE THE WITTERBANE LORE BEING RUSHED and the only achievement that Lilith got after your fans treated her badly,

(with Camilia who’s a good mother, SO WE DONT WELCOME TOXIC HATERS HERE.)

For Lilith to get in your good graces is just punching Phillip, OR BEING KNOW AS AROACE cause when your sexuality wins with no proper character development or Writing in the Owl House. (which is understandable cause lgbt media has been taboo throughout times.)

but not properly give nuance on why I know she wanted to have objectives, please we need Good writing characters plz.

(besides Lilith befriending Phillip in the time travel episode.)

Lilith development i feel should've been placed in an organized manner. I Swear the show treats its adults in a useless adults or demonizes them if they don't let their favorites get there way. shunned them retcon them or not celebrated more compared to the other popular characters. SMH

so heres term for it

(not to mention their characters being retconned at times.)

it felt they got off easy with her ever since I watched pitched bibles of her being antagonistic, (along her run of the show), as time goes by, We got to see which contributed that, that should've been explored

as for the yes along Papa Titan ordeal, I felt they should've made him more impactful cause he is a literal god yet he's just made as a joke for luz to revive herself. COME ON

all i know is the Witterbane & Clawthrones should've had more interactions with A POWERFUL GOD SMH, cause dill had knowledge of some powerful items that could've contributed to the story but he was sidelined, the way they shelved half the characters is just wow

So hope this answers all your questions and thanks for sipping tea with me more topics on my youtube Channel - Daystar Voyage

[the-name-is-z]

SKELETONS | ch. 33

daryl dixon x f!oc

masterlist

a03 link

Summary: Iris and a few members of the group find themselves in an uncomfortable ethical argument. Merle decides to take matters into his own hands. Warnings/Information: AMC's The Walking Dead OC Insert | 18+ Advised | strangers to lovers; the slowest of slow burns; gore; angst; horror; humour; m/f; canonical character death; discussions of kidnapping; kidnapping; ethical discussions; emotional breakdown

Chapter 33 - It Comes Around

It was starting to get cold by the time they’d geared up for a fight. Iris donned a sherpa-lined leather jacket Glenn had found for her on a run, happy to be warm in the many hours prepping outside. Especially when a deep chill ran down her spine when Rick told her the plan.

“It’s the only way.” He assured. “No one else knows.”

“You gonna tell ‘em?” Daryl asked, looking between Hershel, Iris and Rick. 

“Not till after.” He shook his head. “We have to do it today. It has to be quiet.”

“You got a plan?” Daryl asked.

“We tell her we need to talk.” Rick replied. “Away from the others.”

“I don’t feel good about this, Rick.” Iris admitted. She was already pale, sick to her stomach. Hershel looked just as upset. There was a long pause and Daryl nodded.

“Just ain’t us, man.” He murmured.

“No. No it isn’t.” Hershel agreed, hobbling away on his crutches. Iris ran a hand through her hair.

“We do this, we avoid a fight.” Rick replied. “No one else dies.”

“I don’t trust his word, Rick. I think there’ll be a fight either way. Only if we do this, we’ll have one more person gunning for our heads.” Iris argued. Rick looked at the ground, sighing. He looked between the two of them.

“Please.” He stated. Daryl turned to Iris, who said nothing.

“Okay.” He agreed. Rick walked off, and Iris turned into the wind, hoping the breeze on her face would help curve her nausea. “You gonna be able to do this?” Daryl asked.

“I honestly don’t know.” Iris replied, leaning with one hand against the fence. She didn’t like it. Not at all. And if luck would have it, Rick would probably ask Merle to help out. Wouldn’t be his first time sending Michonne to her death. Maybe, just maybe, something Merle would say will keep Rick from doing something he would regret. “Maybe I’ll get shot and won’t have to live with myself.”

“Don’t say shit like that.” Daryl grumbled, scowling. Iris looked up at him and shook her head.

“You shouldn’t go along with it just to be on his good side.”

“He’s right.” Daryl argued, somewhat offended.

“No he’s not, and you know it too.” She sighed, standing up straight and turning away. “At least if they shoot me first, you won’t have to hear me say ‘I told you so.’”

They spent the rest of the morning laying out barbed wire and a few spikes near the gate. Rick was there when they returned, Glenn unloading the spare guns from the truck. 

“Maybe if they try to drive through the gate again, a blown tire will stop them.” He explained. Rick nodded.

“It’s a good idea.” He stated.

“It was Michonne’s.” Iris said pointedly. Daryl glanced at her nervously before turning to Rick, who pressed his lips together in a thin line. 

“We don’t have to win.” Michonne offered, walking over. “We just have to make their getting at us more trouble than it’s worth.” Rick said nothing, turning as Maggie and Carl came out from the dog run. They had been distracting the walkers while Daryl, Glenn, Iris and Michonne were running around in the field. 

“Let’s go.” Rick murmured, guiding them all back toward the cell block. 

-

Hershel spent many mornings reading verses from his bible to Maggie and Beth. Iris was never religious, she never would be, especially not now, but his words seemed to echo in her mind this morning. Plague, pestilence, darkness, night. It was all somewhat metaphorical, and despite her aversion to most biblical literature, she sat in the room while Hershel read his verses aloud, Maggie and Beth clutching each other’s hands as they listened and prayed. 

Rick’s shuffling footsteps echoed as he walked into the room, disrupting the uncomfortable aura Iris was sublimating in. Hershel abruptly stood up, tears in his eyes.

“Rick?” He called. “What you’re about to do—“ 

“I can’t.” Rick interrupted. Iris stood from her place on the steps as she noted the tears in Rick’s eyes. “I won’t.” He turned, storming outside into the courtyard. Iris breathed a heavy sigh of relief, practically falling back onto the stone steps. Hershel hobbled over, putting a hand on her shoulder. She stood up, following after Rick. She jogged over, seeing him meet with Daryl. “It’s off. We’ll take our chances.”

“I’m not saying it was the wrong call, but this is definitely the right one.” Daryl agreed, nodding to Iris as she came over. “What’s wrong?”

“I can’t find Merle or Michonne.” Rick admitted. “They’re gone.” Iris and Daryl glanced at one another, the unspoken suggestion between them obvious.

“Come on.” Daryl urged, guiding them into the prison. He led them into the generator room, where he had last seen his brother. “He was in here, said he was looking for drugs. Said a lot of things, actually.”

“Like what?” Rick asked.

“Said that you were gonna change your mind… here we go.” Daryl knelt down, picking up a piece of torn pillow case. A bag he must have put over Michonne’s head. “Yeah, he took her here. They mixed it up.”

“Damn it! I’m going after him.” Rick hissed.

“You can’t track for shit.” Daryl stated.

“Then the both of us.” 

“No, just me. I said I’d go and I’ll go. Plus they’re gonna come back here, you need to be ready. You’re family too.” Daryl insisted, elbowing a back door open, letting the light in from outside.

“Well then, take Iris.” Rick pleaded, urging her forward.

“No, I think… It’s Merle. He won’t listen if I’m there. This is between them.” She insisted, looking to Daryl. He nodded, disappearing behind the door. Rick sighed, rubbing his temple. Iris put a hand on his shoulder. “He’ll get her back. We gotta focus on the Governor.”

“Yeah. Yeah, alright.” Rick agreed softly, sniffing before shaking the nerves away, leading the way back to the cell block. He gathered everyone near the courtyard, standing up in front of them all. 

“When I met with the Governor, he offered me a deal. He said he would leave us alone if I gave him Michonne. And I was gonna do that… to keep us safe. I changed my mind. But now Merle took Michonne to fulfill the deal and Daryl went to stop him… and I don’t know if it’s too late. I was wrong not to tell you and I’m sorry. What I said last year, that first night, after the farm… it can’t be like that. It can’t. What we do, what we’re willing to do, who we are, it’s not my call. It can’t be. I couldn’t sacrifice one of us for the greater good because we are the greater good. We’re the reason we’re still here. Not me. This is life and death. How you live… how you die. It isn’t up to me. I’m not your Governor. We choose to go. We choose to stay. We stick together. We vote. We can stay and we can fight, or we can go.”

Rick said nothing more before turning around and leaving the group to sit. Iris sat down beside Carol, feeling somewhat morally exhausted. Carol passed her Judith before wandering off, and Iris smiled down at the little ass-kicker. Carl wandered over and sat next to them, stroking his little sister’s head.

“I miss you, cowboy.” Iris said slowly, looking down at the baby. Still miraculous to think about, a baby in all of this.

“What do you mean?” Carl asked, looking up at her.

“You’re too grown. I’m sorry about that.” Iris murmured, looking up at the sky.

“It’s not your fault.” Carl said after a moment, pondering. Iris smiled.

“I know, kid. And I’m not responsible for you. But I still care about you, and little ass-kicker. And I’m still sorry.” He nodded slowly, reaching over and taking her hand. Iris smiled softly once more, squeezing his fingers.

“My dad’s doing the right thing.” He said.

“I know. He has a habit of doing that.” Iris said. Carl’s lips turned upward and he almost smiled. 

“So do you.” He offered, turning to meet her gaze. Iris sighed, looking down at the baby.

“I try.”

-

Daryl tracked his brother all the way to the warehouse and grouping of silos where they met with the Governor and his people. There were bodies everywhere, walkers and fresh humans. They kept the undead ones busy, at least.

He moved across the field slowly, each footstep a carefully made decision amongst the piles of innards, brain and blood. Daryl scanned each of the faces, no Merle. He looked up at the sound of snarling and disgusting chewing, putting a bolt through the random walker’s brain. He kept going, finding another behind that one.

The kid on the ground with his chest ripped open was with Tyreese and Sasha. Ben, his name was. A little spineless and naïve, but mostly meant well. His blood was all over Merle’s hands, and when his brother looked up to meet his gaze, Daryl’s stomach lurched. 

He could barely keep his grip on his crossbow as the bloodshot, dead eyes looked up at him. A chunk of Ben’s spleen fell from his brother’s mouth. He was grey and a little rotten already. It must have been maybe an hour since he died and yet… there he was. 

Part of him thought this part would be easy, seeing Merle get what was coming to him. But it wasn’t. Merle was all he had left.

Merle was horrible. He was a deadbeat, drug addicted, cowardly, dishonourably discharged dumbass who made life worse for everyone who met him. But for brief stints during their childhood, he could have passed for Daryl’s brother. There were moments when he protected him from their father’s fists. His belt. Moments when he taught Daryl important life skills, like how to make a fish hook, and which plants were best not to piss on in the woods. Whether he liked it or not, Daryl owed so much of who he was to his terrible, awful, sorry-excuse-for-a-human-being older brother.

Daryl’s face crumpled, and he let out an involuntary whimper. His armless brother pushed himself to his feet, stumbling over Ben’s corpse toward him. Daryl let out a sob as he shoved his brother off of him, staggering backward. He shoved him back three times before his hunting knife met his brother’s flesh. 

Daryl tackled him to the ground, pulling the knife free and stabbing it into his brother’s undead face. Over and over again, until he was spattered in blood, and his brother was no longer recognizable. Perhaps it was easier now that he couldn't see his face. It wasn’t. Daryl fell back with a cry, tears slipping down his face as he panted, Merle’s cold blood soaking his hands.

-

TAGLIST:

@heidiland05

@ryoujoking

@catlalice

@maxinehufflepuffprincess

@lowkeyhottho

@fadingpalacebonkpsychic

[min-pathologica]

sick of people slandering characters in the name of other characters sigh. putting specific characters under the cut so no one tries to argue w me on this :p drdt chapter 1 spoilers lol

yes min did wrong teruko, yes teruko’s reaction was fair, no that actually doesn’t make min wrong!! or vice versa!! this is a death game!! people are forced to do shitty things to preserve their life!! you do not have time to think maturely about a situation after killing someone in self-defense!! think honestly, this stranger you don’t like is standing over what looks like your friend’s corpse with a knife and there you are, fully visible and loudly yelping by the doorway, hands too full to make a smooth escape, seconds to think of something before he fucking slashes you. for me it’d almost be instinctual to throw the bucket, at least to free my hands and stun him. for me at least. maybe some of u would be able to run. but min did the former, and i don’t want to hear this “she should have ran” because she had like 5 seconds to think of something. like. you have 5 seconds to devise a solution to the riemann hypothesis, you’re not going to think of every answer and rank them by correctness. same goes for fight or flight. this part is literally just fight or flight lol. so next she whips out the knife pen and swipes open that bad boy light switch (wow girlboss been playing that yandere simulator). obviously the fab fashionable ultimate student knows about electrical safety and its inverse, so it came in handy when she needed this brit down on the ground. so he fucking died, and ‘oh shit i just killed this guy, what am i going to do oh god i’m going to die i should’ve ran’ no wait if i just frame teruko i’ll survive. guys if you don’t have an active death wish, enjoyment of pain, and reversed instincts, you are going to do dumb shit to avoid getting your ass killed. you are going to take the easiest route you can think of. even if it hurts everyone else. dying is really scary guys, when it’s up there in your face dancing on your nose and it could actually happen and is more than a what-if. i hear these edgy 12 year olds out there with “haha i’m so concerning knowing how to dispose of a body! i bet i could actually get away with murder!” you aren’t accounting for adrenaline deariepop. you aren’t accounting for any of the many circumstances that will inevitably come with killing someone. you will not get away with murder girlboss. so min carries on with the framing, she does a pretty good job for having like ten minutes. and at the trial the adrenaline has not gone away in fact it has come back full force with a helpful heaping of guilt. probably. y’know. cause she’s guilty. and when it comes out that she framed teruko, yes teruko’s reaction was fair, you shouldn’t be all happy skippy bible school after nearly getting killed. so anyway gay hug. doomed yuri. yes. you get it. then min fucking dies. teruko’s cranky and needs a nap. because who wouldn’t. and i say cranky with all my heart and love, because i too am cranky after writing this out

so tl:dr people get messy and make mistakes when in life-or-death situations. therefore i think neither min nor teruko should be slandered for their actions in chapter 1. cool