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sinful-mind-joyful-thoughts · 7 months

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𝐀 𝐑𝐨𝐬𝐞 𝐖𝐢𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐓𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐧𝐬

*vision bored doesn't describe readers' looks it describes the vibes of the story*

Pairing: dark!stalker!Joel Miller x fem!reader

Summary: Life takes a sinister turn once you begin renovations on your old, eerie house. Strange occurrences start piling up—like missing security camera footage and mysterious messages from an unknown stalker. The tension really amps up when you stumble upon red roses, serving as a chilling reminder of the stalker's presence and danger. Despite trying to brush off the threats, the situation escalates when the stalker directly reaches out to you, leaving you fearing for your life and bracing for a potential confrontation.

IMPORTANT: This fic is based on haunting/hunting Adeline i do not claim or own any characters from the series I only used it as inspiration, all the credit to H.D Carlton for being an amazing inspiration and writer.

Warnings/tags: MDNI 18+, DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT, stalking, breaking and entering, bondage (rope and tape), groping, grinding, fear, non/dub-con, rope burns, toxic people, degradation, praise, feet kink? (maybe kind of), pussy eating, fingering, spit, biting, clit biting, breeding kink, kissing, protected sex wrap it before you tap it, kids. THIS IS A WORK OF FICTION, YOU ARE RESPONSIBLE FOR THE CONTENT YOU CONSUME

WC: 6.5k

Small things, it all started small. Ever since renovations started on the house, life has gotten strange. The old dark house didn't help much, but it was cheap to buy such a run-down place when you originally got it. It's worth more now that you've fixed up parts of it, but you still feel like it's dark once those cobweb-covered walls are watching you like you're something to be hunted, or like you're in a horror movie and aren't noticing the obvious hints of a killer.

And you weren't entirely sure you weren't avoiding a killer with how many small changes you saw around the house. Glasses were left on the counter, seemingly freshly poured, even if you didn't remember pouring any. Your nice scotch bottle had less fluid in it every time you checked it, yet whenever you wanted to check the cameras your friend Daphne suggested you put up for your safety, there was missing footage from certain hours of the day even during the night, whatever or whoever was doing these things was smart and calculated with every move. You don't even feel safe showering, Over a month of weird stuff, no face no answers just fear

The more you tried to be rational about how you couldn't have a stalker, the weirder things got. Like he wanted you to know he was there. You started picking up on little changes, the stuff you initially brushed off as maybe just your mind playing tricks on you. But then it became crystal clear when you kept finding those red roses laid out for you, no thorns in sight. Every time a red rose without thorns appeared, it felt sinister. You'd thought how considerate it was of the stalker to avoid using the thorns, but it felt more like a taunt like the person responsible wanted to remind you of their presence with every rose and to show you that they could easily hurt you, but chose not to.

Tonight wasn't any different. You came home from some grocery shopping to see three red roses sitting on your kitchen counter, trimmed and tied together. You groaned and put down the bags of groceries before tossing the roses completely, trying not to pay it any mind. You'd done that the past five times, hoping giving him no attention would make him go away. Your phone buzzed, interrupting your unpacking. You read the text message, and a chill ran down your spine when you realized it was from an unknown number.

Unknown: Do you not like roses?

You saw the message and dropped your phone, immediately scrambling to find something to defend yourself with. You ran to the knife block, grabbing a large, semi-sharp knife. You could worry about the melting ice cream tomorrow, not when your life was at stake. A stalker's murder attempt was imminent, and you weren't going down without a fight. Your phone buzzed again, indicating a new message from your stalker. Your muscles tensed as you carefully picked up your phone to check the message, feeling a sense of dread wash over you when you read it.

Unknown: I see you're taking precautions. But trust me, violence won't solve anything. Let's have a civilized conversation, shall we?

The audacity of the message sent shivers down your spine. How could this person be so calm, so composed, while installing such terror in your life? The thought of engaging in conversation with them made your skin crawl, but you knew ignoring them wasn't an option either.

You took a deep breath, trying to gather your courage. You replied with the knife still in hand, determined to stand your ground.

You: I don't want to talk. Leave me alone.

The response was almost immediate.

Unknown: Ignoring won't make me disappear. You can't escape me.

Your heart pounded in your chest, and the gravity of the situation intensified. The stalker's persistence was chilling, and you knew you needed to involve the authorities. As you dialed 911, another message flashed on your screen.

Unknown: Calling for help? It won't make a difference. I'm always one step ahead.

Fear tightened its grip on you, but you continued with the call, silently praying that law enforcement could indeed intervene in this sinister game. As you spoke with the emergency operator, your stalker's messages continued to flood in.

Unknown: You can't hide forever. I'll be watching, waiting.

Each message felt like a dagger, cutting through your sense of security. The operator assured you that help was on the way, but that didn't stop the ominous texts.

Unknown: The sirens won't save you.

The final message came through, short and ominous, making you block the number.

Unknown: Tick-tock.

You waited almost the whole night, but no one came. The silence was deafening, making you doubt that your stalker would make a move on you. Perhaps your fear has gotten the better of you, making you panic unnecessarily. Either way, you couldn't shake the feeling that danger was just around the corner, leaving you a bit on edge.

As days turned into weeks, the quiet dragged on, and you started second-guessing yourself. The fear kind of faded, replaced by this sort of 'what now?' feeling. A whole week passed, and you didn't spot a single red rose anywhere. The absence of any signs from your stalker had lulled you into a false sense of security, the fear becoming a distant memory. The red roses that once haunted your thoughts had blurred into the background, and life had cautiously resumed a semblance of normalcy.

Just when you thought the nightmare had ended, he resurfaced. On an ordinary day, as you hesitated at the threshold of your home, a cold shiver ran down your spine and you saw something on the ground. You squinted at it for a moment before realizing what it was; a few red roses, perfectly trimmed and tied together with string. Your phone buzzed. You gasped, your heart racing as you realized that the rose had to be from your stalker.

Unknown: "A week is a long time to go without hearing from me, don't you think?”

Your fear grew as you considered possible reasons for your stalker's sudden absence. They'd been relentless with the red roses until now, constantly reminding you of their presence through the ominous messages tied to them. So why would they wait an entire week before finally breaking the silence? Was it a psychological game meant to make you believe you were safe long enough to let your guard down? Perhaps they'd been watching your house, waiting for a good opportunity to strike. Your mind was reeling with possibilities, yet the uncertainty only added to your mounting anxiety.

You quickly walked inside the house and blocked that number as well, not bothering to bring in the roses. You left them on your doormat to rot, as you had no desire to let the flowers remain in your home. Soon after, you heard a buzzing sound coming from your phone and instinctively answered.

"Hello," you said, hoping to hear a familiar voice on the other end. There was no reply for a second. Then suddenly, a deep, gravelly voice infused with a Southern twang unexpectedly responded, sending shivers down your spine. You froze for a moment, pondering the uncanny timing of the call. What gave it away wasn't just the voice, but the chilling familiarity of the situation. The sudden appearance of the roses, the ominous messages, and now this call from "Daphne 💕" at the most unsettling moment – it all clicked into place. It couldn't be a random coincidence. Your gut twisted with certainty; it had to be the stalker, cunningly using the guise of your friend's name to unnerve you further.

The voice spoke again, "I missed our little game, I'm glad you blocked my last number, as it made our game much more interesting," the voice taunted, sending shivers coursing down your spine.

"Why are you doing this? Is Daphne okay?" You shouted into the phone, your thoughts running wild with a million questions and concerns. The stalker's laughter sent chills down your spine and increased your frustration. "Why would I hurt Daphne if you're the one I want?" the stalker laughed again as if your worry was a joke to them. It seemed clear that the stalker had little to no compassion for your best friend's safety.

You desperately needed a way to get to the point, so you chose not to waste any more time. "If you're after me, then why are you pretending to be my best friend? Wouldn't it be easier to just text me with your number?”

"Well, that doesn't seem to work. You've blocked every number I've tried," the stalker replied, their tone oozing with smugness. It dawned on you that they'd been meticulously keeping track of every number you blocked, instead of simply moving on like a normal person would.

"Touche," you responded evenly, sensing the stalker's growing frustration as you stood your ground. Their voice took on a darker edge as they acknowledged your resistance. "Blocking my numbers isn't cutting it. Looks like we need to switch up the game," they declared, sending a chill down your spine. You couldn't shake the feeling that their next move would be far more sinister than merely sending flowers.

"So, what do you propose we do now that blocking your numbers isn't working?" you asked calmly. The stalker laughed, a menacing sound that only added to the tension between the two of you. "I have a few ideas," the stalker replied, their tone of voice hinting at something sinister. "Let's hear them," you replied, keeping your tone of voice as calm as possible to disguise the fear growing inside of you. The stalker paused for a moment before speaking, as if they were plotting their next move.

You walked into your kitchen and grabbed a knife like you did a week prior. The stalker's dismissive response sent a chill down your spine. "And a flimsy kitchen knife is a solution... sweetpea, those knives in that block of yours aren't as sharp as you think," the stalker responded, making you look around nervously. The stalker had made it clear that they could see you, which raised several new questions. How much could they see? Could they see you right now? Were they hiding nearby?

"Like that would deter me. In my hands, this knife can and will kill you," you spoke with false confidence as you walked to your bedroom. The stalker's dismissive attitude frustrated you, and you were tired of being the one who was afraid. You wanted to gain the upper hand in this situation, and you were prepared to do whatever it took to protect yourself.

You grabbed your desk chair and a pillow before taking a seat with the phone and knife still in hand. The stalker responded in a mocking tone, "Oh, what are you going to do with that knife? Stab me through the phone?" They were challenging you, and you were determined to prove that you weren't as afraid as they thought. You were determined not to let them get under your skin and decided to respond with your mocking tone. "Maybe I will," you replied, deciding to match their confidence.

"No need for hypotheticals… you smell good by the way," he responded, so casually it made you gasp audibly as you suddenly imagined how close he was. "No need to get all fussy," the stalker continued, their tone of voice a mixture of amusement and malice. The thought of the stalker's presence just inches away from you made you hot and uncomfortable in a way you hadn't felt before.

You shut the blinds in your bedroom and frantically rummaged through your closet, stabbing at clothes out of sheer terror. Opting to take a seat, you vowed not to sleep until the psycho lurking in your house was either gone or dealt with permanently. The idea of him being in such proximity sent waves of unease rippling through your body. Uncertain of his capabilities, paranoia set in, making you hyper-aware of every subtle sound or movement. It felt like only a matter of time before you'd hear him drawing closer.

The night felt like it stretched on forever, filled with nothing but anxiety and dread. You must've checked the locks on every door and window a dozen times, feeling more paranoid with each click. Even going around, peeping through the blinds and peeking under the bed, making sure nothing was lurking in the shadows before finally settling down in your desk chair for the night. You could barely stop yourself from jumping at every little sound. Around 1 am, you started to feel tired but kept yourself awake for as long as you could. However, your exhaustion soon caught up to you, and you began to yawn constantly, fighting against the urge to fall asleep.

It was 1:30 am when you decided you couldn't take it anymore. You were thirsty and tired, and the three-day-old water bottle on your nightstand didn't sound too appealing. You grabbed the knife as you made your way down the stairs, trying to stay alert while simultaneously fighting the exhaustion that was starting to take over. You finally reached the kitchen and took a deep breath, grateful for the chance to stretch your legs. You poured yourself a glass of water and gulped it down quickly as you thought of the long night you still had ahead of you.

You can feel the exhaustion slowly taking over as your eyes start to feel heavy, and the surroundings turn hazy. You can feel yourself starting to lose control as the exhaustion takes over, and it becomes harder and harder to stay alert. You feel as if you're caught in a fog, losing touch with reality more and more as time goes on.

You stumble into your room, your vision getting blurrier by the second. Exhaustion has you barely standing. Darkness starts to take over, swallowing everything up as your surroundings turn fuzzy. It feels like you're losing control, like a heavy blanket pulling you down. A fog surrounds you, making everything dark. As darkness closes in, you can feel yourself slipping away, struggling to stay upright as your vision fades to black.

You jolted awake as something rough brushed against your wrist. Your surroundings rushed back into focus as the exhaustion subsided a bit. You tried to see what had touched your wrist, only to find your hands tied securely to the headboard with rough, coarse rope. After the initial shock wore off, you started to feel the tension in your wrists as the ropes began to dig into the skin.

Your room was dark, illuminated only by the moonlight flooding in from your window. The blinds and window were now open, letting in a cool breeze. You looked around in a panic, and that's when you saw him. The contractor you hired 2 months ago to help with house renovations stood menacingly in the moonlight, his large frame and pepper-sprinkled hair glinting in the moonlight. His appearance made you feel a wave of fear and suspicion, which was only furthered as he stepped forward into the light.

You tried to speak, but the words caught in your throat as you realized he had covered your mouth with tape. Panic surged within you, questions swirling in your mind like a tempest. Why was this happening? Why are you? What was the significance of the roses? And the most pressing question: How did he get into your house?

His presence loomed over you, a sinister silhouette against the moonlit backdrop. Every detail seemed amplified in the dimness—the way his eyes bore into yours, the rough texture of the tape against your skin, the faint rustle of fabric as he shifted closer. Fear pulsed through your veins, a relentless drumbeat drowning out all other thoughts.

You struggled against the bindings, the coarse rope biting into your wrists as you attempted to break free. But his gaze held you captive, a silent reminder of your vulnerability. During the chaos, a desperate longing for answers consumed you, driving you to seek clarity in the shadows that enveloped you both.

As the stalker's words filled the dimly lit room, they carried a weight of uncertainty. "I just want to keep you safe," he said, his voice oddly calm, though it sent shivers down your spine. Despite his calm demeanor, you couldn't shake the feeling that there was something off about his intentions.

"I gave you those roses because they mean something to me," he explained, his tone determined yet unsettling, the twang of his accent adding an eerie quality to his words. His explanations felt like pieces of a puzzle you couldn't quite solve, leaving you with more questions than answers.

His justifications for his actions only added to the confusion. "Breakin' in, you see, it was necessary," he continued, his explanation sounding more like a feeble excuse. You couldn't help but wonder what drove him to such extremes, what twisted logic fueled his intrusive behavior.

With each passing moment, the lines between concern and obsession blurred further, leaving you to navigate the murky waters of his intentions. As he spoke of protection and affection in that Southern accent, you couldn't shake the feeling that there was more to his story than he let on.

"Now," he murmured, his voice taking on an eerie calmness, "I'm going to remove the tape from your mouth. I suggest you cooperate." His tone held a chilling finality, a warning wrapped in false benevolence. "Behave, and we won't have any problems."

As the words escaped his lips, a twisted narrative unfolded, stirring a disturbing sense of familiarity within you. Despite the fear gnawing at your core, there was an unsettling draw towards him, as if his words carried a hidden allure.

His voice, soft yet commanding, stirred conflicting emotions within your mind. Memories of your first encounter flickered like distant flames, igniting a spark of attraction amidst the chaos of fear and confusion.

His eyes, once unsettling, now seemed to hint at vulnerability, reflecting a mirror to your uncertainties. His determination to protect you, though shrouded in ambiguity, blurred the lines between reality and manipulation, leaving you to wonder at his true intentions.

Amidst the turmoil, a nagging sense of unease whispered warnings of danger, urging caution in the face of the unknown. The chill that ran down your spine couldn't be dismissed, as his calm demeanor masked the darkness lurking beneath the surface.

As he reached to remove the tape from your mouth, a fleeting thought crossed your mind, betraying the depths of your confusion. Despite the fear and uncertainty, an undeniable attraction lingered towards this enigmatic figure, the same one who had once breathed life into the walls of your home.

Trapped and bound, vulnerability heightened with each passing moment. The stalker's unsettling words hung in the air as he approached, his eyes now a mix of intensity and what seemed like genuine concern. The tape on your mouth held back the words you longed to shout in defiance.

As the tape peeled away, a shiver coursed through you, a mix of fear and inexplicable attraction. The dim room bore witness to the conflicting dance of emotions, a macabre waltz where danger intertwined with a bizarre sense of connection.

His fingers brushed against your skin as the tape came off, sending a jolt through you. "I suggest you behave," he murmured, his words dripping with a possessive edge that made your skin crawl. Tension thickened in the air as his touch lingered, tracing an unsettling path along your bound wrists.

His actions became increasingly invasive as he leaned closer, his eyes piercing into yours with a sinister intent. "I'll behave if you stop this madness," you retorted, your voice quivering with defiance and desperation. The stalker's eyes narrowed, a sinister smile playing at the corners of his lips.

"Ah, but this ain't madness, my dear," he drawled in a Southern twang, his voice dripping with unsettling calmness. "This is love, a love that you'll come to understand in time."

The words sent a chill down your spine, but you refused to let him see your fear. "Love doesn't involve tying someone up against their will," you shot back, determination lacing your words.

His laughter echoed in the darkness, a hollow sound that sent shivers down your spine. "Oh, but my love, you'll see," he said, his voice taking on a dangerous edge. "You'll come to realize that everything I do, I do for you."

Your heart raced as you struggled against your bindings, the stalker's presence suffocating in its intensity. "Let me go," you pleaded, your voice betraying the fear you fought so hard to hide.

But the stalker only leaned in closer, his breath hot against your ear, his Southern twang adding an eerie quality to his words. "I'll let you go when you understand," he whispered, his words a haunting promise of things to come. "Until then, we're playing a game, you and I, a game of cat and mouse."

Your pulse quickened at his words, the sinister game unfolding in the darkness. "I don't want to play your game," you countered, your voice trembling with a mix of fear and defiance.

"But you've already joined, my dear," the stalker replied, his tone chillingly matter-of-fact, his Southern twang accentuating the unsettling atmosphere. "And you'll find that I'm quite skilled at it."

His words loomed in the air, casting a weighty tension that embraced the room. Each of his calculated moves and carefully chosen words served the purpose of unsettling your equilibrium.

"I won't let you win," you declared, rallying every ounce of courage within.

The stalker's grin widened, a predatory gleam sparking in his eyes. "Oh, but that's what makes it so exhilarating," he whispered, his voice sending shivers down your spine. "The chase, the uncertainty. It's what keeps us alive."

A hard swallow marked the acknowledgment of your grim reality. Trapped within the twisted game he orchestrated, you recognized the stakes were high. Refusing to play the role of a pawn in his deranged scheme, you vowed to escape, regardless of the price.

As the tension simmered between you, the air crackled with an unsettling energy. The stalker's gaze bore into yours, a magnetic pull tainted with danger and an underlying primal essence.

"I won't be a pawn in your sick game," you spat, your voice trembling with a blend of fear and defiance, yet underscored by an undeniable undercurrent of something more.

The stalker's smirk deepened, a trace of amusement flickering in his eyes. "Oh, but my dear, you already are," he purred, his voice low and seductive. "And soon enough, you'll come to relish every twist and turn."

He reached for the blanket and slowly pulled it down, revealing the t-shirt you had worn earlier. The cool breeze in the room caused your nipples to harden. "What are you doing?" you panicked, attempting to move away, but the rope still tightly bound your arms and ankles. "I said behave." Gosh, you wished you could put a name to the face; it had been so long since you'd talked to your contractor that you'd completely forgotten his name.

He removed the blanket completely, walking to the end of your bed where your ankles were tied. You felt a sense of relief when you saw him start untying your ankles. "If you do something stupid, there will be consequences," he finished untying your ankles and kissed your feet softly.

The change in move had you taken by surprise. You didn't know what to expect next, but you were suddenly aware that you were in a very vulnerable position. He planted his hands on your hips and pinned you down on the bed, his strength overwhelming. You were completely at his mercy, and you could feel the heat of his breath on your neck. A shiver ran through your body as you realized how easily he could overpower you if he wanted to.

Your body goes into survival mode, and you fight against his hold with all the strength you can muster. But it's useless. He's too big. Too heavy. Too imposing. He moves to straddle you, pinning your legs between his screams with frustration, attempting to buck him off. He laughs at the attempt, the rich sound of his amusement sending a chill down your spine,” Shh..just relax sweet pea I won't hurt you” he gently brushes some stray hairs out of my face.

"Get off me!" You shouted, kicking your feet up and down, but there was no budge in his position. He grabbed your face forcefully, drawing it closer to his own, and you could smell the mixture of liquor and mint on his breath as he spoke with a threatening tone. "Keep pissing me off, I dare you."

A panic starts to come over you, sweat starts to drip down your hair like a pulsing sensation starts to pulse between your legs, “the stalker whispered with a sickening grin. As he lifted your t-shirt, exposing some of the skin on your stomach, you felt his breath on your ear, and a shiver ran down your spine. Your body was reacting to his touch in a way that filled you with shame.

His rough calloused hands started exploring higher, slowly but surely making their way over your stomach and up towards your chest lifting your t-shirt more and more with each movement. You felt the soft touches against your skin, his fingers slowly tracing up your body, creating a sense of danger and excitement. You were frightened, and your mind went into panic mode. "What's your name? Is it Josh or Jake?" the words came spilling out suddenly as you wanted to distract him from what his hands were doing.

The stalker was caught off guard by your sudden question, and the change in your tone pulled him out of his trance for a moment. He chuckled, as his fingers continued to explore your body. "My name is not Josh or Jake," he whispered. "My name is much more interesting than that." He leaned in closer, his breath warm against your skin as his fingers continued to trail up toward your chest. He started to knead your breasts softly.

"My name is Joel, and I'm shocked that you don't remember," Joel said with a sadistic smirk. He sat up, allowing your legs to move freely, and you immediately rolled around to cover your exposed skin. It didn't matter whether you got rope burns on your wrists or not, as long as he wasn't able to touch you intimately. Your body was still tingling from his earlier touches, and no matter how much you tried to ignore it, the sensations were still there.

"Maybe I should make you remember it for next time." Joel's voice had a harsher tone to it as he spoke, and there was a hint of anger in his eyes as he watched you roll around to cover up the exposed skin. Maybe he was angry that you didn't remember him, or maybe he was angry because you seemed to be resisting his advances. The reason didn't matter. What mattered was that he looked pissed.

He walked back over to your ankles and started to tug on your pants making them come off in one swift motion before grabbing one of your legs and lifting it roughly kissing your ankle and lower calf you tried to kick your legs but to no avail, it was like it didn't affect him it was kinda hot, what no? Get it together he's your stalker

You were left helpless in your t-shirt and panties scared and unsure of what to say or do as you're body was betraying your brain my pause in thinking gave him enough time to discard your panties and put them into his jeans pocket…You glanced over him swiftly, taking in his broad, fit physique, which seemed to defy his age. He carried a presence that suggested he might even be older than your father if not the same age. what had felt like 15 seconds had been long enough for him to pin your knees down to your bed

If you tried to buck and get away you would only shove your pussy closer to his face, you had an intense pink blush on your cheeks at the action he was so quick and seamless unlike any male you'd ever been with you stiffen the moonlight barely allows you to see him making you angrier feeling even more exposed to him.

He starts to kiss your upper thigh making you gasp at his actions as he slowly makes his way closer to your mound he teases you knowing that your body is betraying you as your legs shake suddenly the closer he gets to your core. He took his time kissing both your legs and even your lower stomach every so often as he switched.

“The only sounds I want to hear out of you are praise, my name, or your moans'' he placed a kiss directly onto your clit making you arch your back in pleasure causing your hips to lift off the bed. “You smell and taste like candy” he gripped your hips and roughly brought your hips back down onto the bed “Now stay still and let me enjoy my food”

Joel didn't hold back he kept his hands on your knees keeping your spread and ready for whatever he wanted to do to you, he didn't hold back in his movements his tongue lapped up every juice your body produced like it was the best thing he'd ever tasted you bite your lip trying not to give him and satisfaction of knowing the pleasure he was giving you. You were grateful your hands were bound if not you weren't sure you could hold off on running and tugging your hands through his hair.

You feel and smell your arousal your body is shaking and you're struggling to stay quiet he knows it and isn't making it any easier as he starts to change his technique he uses his teeth to bite your clit softly allowing his tongue to attack no mercy his movements calculated as he listened to the sweet sounds of your moans started to escape.

He pulled away making you whimper before changing the position he sat on her knees before pulling your ass off the bed and pushing your legs so they were at the side of your head he spit on your pussy before using his hand to spread the spit around your pussy making the surface even wetter. “You're not behaving you're holding back” he pauses and puts two fingers into your pussy pumping in and out slowly making your eyes roll to the back of your head and moan softly…fucking heaven. “See how much better it feels when you don't hold anything in?” he taunted you as he began to curl his fingers hitting that one spot that made you see stars.

You moaned feeling on edge you tugged on the ropes holding your hands hostage you wanted to touch him so badly. He began to bite on your clit just enough to give you pleasure but not enough to hurt. He brought the hand that wasn't fingering you so deep you were seeing stars up to your breasts moving your stupid t-shirt out the way to pinch and kneed the smooth skin.

You couldn't take it anymore. Your orgasm was coming faster than ever your moans were not contained. You were grateful for the seclusion of the woods that surround your house. It probably sounded like a murder was taking place with how loud your moans were getting.

Joel knew you were close as well. He stopped kneading your breast and used his free hand to hold one of your legs down as they began to shake rapidly, he added another finger and made his motions faster. You couldn't take it anymore you screamed out “OH GOD JOEL!!!” you started to shake as he continued to finger you and hold your legs open he moved away from your pussy to get more leverage to hold down your shaking body “JOEL…stop.., it's too much” you gasped and started to cry at the overstimulation he was giving you.

Then he finally let go, letting your legs down. Your vision was blurry from your tears. Joel stood up at the end of your bed. The sun was beginning to rise, giving you a better look at him. God, he was just as hot as the first day you met him. “I hope you don't think we're done so soon?” he joked you were shocked for a man his age he's lasting longer than you thought possible, the started to undress himself revealing his chest he was even broader without a shirt he had a small belly but bellow it was a large raging cock it had to be as thick as a soda can and longer than any dick you'd seen in real life it was majestic .” cat got your tongue?” he climbed on top of you and met your lips with a sloppy kiss.

You both began to make out like horny teenagers. You could taste your arousal on his tongue. He ran his hands through your hair and down your body he pulled back for a second before ripping your t-shirt in half “Hey!” you protested, “it kept getting in the way of what I wanted” he started to kiss down your neck leaving bruises as he moved along your neck and collar bone. You groaned in frustration as you couldn't touch him, your wrists were becoming raw and red with pain. He noticed and kissed your wrists but didn't untie them, making you squirm to try and loosen the ropes. Joel grabbed your face roughly "When you misbehave, you don't always get what you want," Joel said, using a more stern tone. "Now be good and stop squirming around like a child who didn't get what they wanted." he let go of your face and started to stroke his cock.

He put his hand in front of your mouth “Spit” You spit into his hand and watched as he used your spit as lube for him to stroke his dick, he spread your legs open again he pushed your knees back close to your head but not far enough for your ass to be off the bed but enough to give him a good view of your pussy glistening in the morning light.

He rubbed the head of his cock up and down your folds causing you to gasp nervously for what was to come, he slowly started to insert his dick into you screaming at him and moved your hips away as he tried to insert the tip “Ah!” you kick at him “stop it doesn't fit” you plead with him for him to stop or maybe stretch you more. “Aww poor baby never had a real cock have you” he inserted the tip of his dick filling causing you to arch your back slightly you rapidly shake your head no to answer his questions “Words” his voice sounds cold and dominant as he pulls you by your hips onto his dick

It's so deep you feel it in your throat you can't help but moan out at the feeling so painful but so pleasurable “Now…” he pulls out almost completely before slamming back in “Have you never been with a real man like me?” He continues to apply slow deep thrusts as he talks to you making your eyes roll to the back of your head “god I can barely fit” he eggs you on as he begins to use his thumb to rub your clit adding just enough pressure to have you moaning out for more.

“Please…more I want more” you beg as your hips start to meet his thrusts. He begins to pump into you faster grabbing onto your hips and roughly digging your hips into the mattress as he thrusts harder and faster into you the pain has completely faded and all you feel is pure euphoria as he fucks you.

You haven't been able to stop moaning and you quickly get embarrassed as a loud shriek leaves your mouth as he hits that spot again you'd never had anyone fuck you like this you don't feel pleasure for a moment he's made you feel good over and over listened to your body and understood how a women's pleasure works. “Joel…please” You didn't Even know what you were begging for, you just longed for more for anything he was willing to give you.

“Do you wanna cum?” he taunts biting your shoulder as he continued thrusting into you, you were lying if you said you didn't want to come you wanted so too so bad and he knew it he was experienced he could tell by the way your pussy was pulsing, your breath became sloppy, the way your toes curled he knew he just wanted you to say it. “Answer me or I won't let you cum at all” he growled, applying pressure to your clit using his thumb “Yes yes god yes please make me cum” Your back arched and you moved your body into him as much as you could.

You're juices dripped down your thighs a set of continuous moans fall out your mouth “You're gonna cum with me sweet pea fill you with all my baby’s” he groans and pulls your thighs into his arms so your legs are flat against his chest allowing you to feel him in your spine the sound of the bed squeaking fills the room as his thrusts became more erratic “ready?” he groans deeply and rubs your clit faster and faster until your vision suddenly went fuzzy as your orgasm washed over one another. You felt his sticky cum flood into your pussy. The feeling was so warm it felt like it would never stop cumming thank god for IUDs.

Joel didn't let go of your legs, instead, he pushed into you making sure as much of his cum as possible would stay inside of you, he leaned down into you making your legs right next to your ears he leaned in for a passionate kiss before pulling out of you.

A dead silence reigned over the room the morning sun shined through your bedroom window as the smell of sex overwhelmed your senses, after a few moments Joel undid the rope that had your hands tied to the headboard your wrists were red and bruised from rubbing against the rope so hard, Joel put his clothes back on as you lay in bed staring at the ceiling finally releasing what you just did you fucked your stalker and liked it?

Your thoughts raced as Joel came back into view, the last person you wanted to see at that moment. "My real number..." he muttered, tossing a business card in your direction. You glanced over the card.

‘Miller Brothers Contracting and Co….’

He hesitated at your bedroom door before exiting the room entirely.

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ghouldump · 3 months

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Hello! I just read your lestat x reader fanfic and I’m completely in love with it! Can you maybe do a part 2 with them still being together in 2024?

Anything For You II | Lestat De Lioncourt x Reader

ෆ you are back home and can’t wait to spend time with the love of your life.

omggg i feel so fuzzy inside knowing others enjoy my writing 🩷😋 this is short, but i think it’s a cute ending.

“You can sit them down here, thank you, honey,” you told your chauffeur, handing him a hundred-dollar bill.

“Thank you, Miss”

“No, thank you,” you winked, watching as the handsome man left, driving off in the SUV.

Unlocking the door, you placed your baby, Lena, a purebred Italian greyhound on the floor. She immediately ran towards the sound of the music, wagging her tail in excitement. You thought back to how disgusted Lestat was at the idea of having an animal. He was adamant that if you got this dog you’d be on your own taking care of her. Within a week, you caught him teaching her tricks and feeding her treats. She was 4 and you were hoping to have her mate, in hopes of having grand puppies.

Sitting your luggage by the stairs, you looked around, shaking your head at the lack of renovation that was supposed to happen while you were away. He hadn’t even taken down the photos like you asked, instead he put them back up. Seeing your wedding photo crooked, you couldn’t help but laugh. Housework was never his forte. Staring at the photo, you traced over his face, nearly a century of love and you were still head over heels. You were surprised when he even brought up the subject.

“Marriage?” You closed the novel, sitting it in your lap.

“Do you not want to marry me?” He asked, playfully tilting his head.

“I didn’t think vampires were into nuptials, or you-

“What can I say? Seven years later and I am not against the idea of being bound to someone legally, I also have looked into it and there are many positive aspects-

“You’ve been looking into this?” You couldn’t help but smile, as he slowly came down to his knees in front of you.

“Yes”

“How badly do you want this,” you asked him, your hand going to caress his cheek.

“As much as my thirst for blood,” he continued, his eyes softened as they focused on you.

“Ask me,” you told him, feeling your eyes tingling, you knew tears were soon to fall.

Biting his lip, he stared at you for a second, before pulling the ring from his pocket. You gasped, covering your mouth, as the blood ran down your face.

“Ma chèrie, please grant me the greatest honor to not only be my companion, but my wife. I love you now and I’ll love you forever, will you…marry me?” He asked.

“Of course,” you nodded, holding your hand out, squealing as he slid the ring onto your finger. The ring was timeless, beautifully made, and could catch the attention of everyone in a room with how large and nicely cut the diamond was.

You ended up having a tiny wedding, in the backyard of your home. Just the two of you, a marriage officiant, and a photographer. Shortly after your vows were exchanged, as your photo was taken. The photographer had plenty of vulgar thoughts when it came to you in the form-fitting dress. Regardless, the two ended up being your meals, before a night of passionate intimacy.

Hearing the familiar serenade, you entered the living room. Immediately, you smiled, Lestat sat at the piano, looking at the sheet music, his iPad propped up in front of him, annotations on a digital copy of the music. Crossing your arms, you watched as he was about to continue with the keys, but lifted his hands.

“Who’s your honey?” He asked, making you playfully roll your eyes. No matter how many people were invited into your home, Lestat became jealous if you were too kind to another person for too long.

“Don’t start, you know who has my heart,” you told him, walking over. He immediately opened his arms for you to sit on his lap.

“I missed you, ma chèrie,” he told you, making you loudly coo.

“Awe, I missed you more, you should’ve come, Chicago was fun,” you told him, as he kissed your hand.

“I’d rather not,” he pouted like a child. He knew he’d end up wandering around alone, and while he had no problem doing so - the city held no interest to him. You were there for work, since the late 80s, you had been a real estate agent. At first a small hobby, you eventually expanded, leaving Louisiana for more land in different states. Over the years you made enough money to last for generations. After being home with him for Mardi Gras, enjoying the parades together, the people, and selling to a few tourists - you had been gone for nearly two months.

“You’re so cute,” you laughed, pecking his lips.

“Cute is more…adolescent,” he rolled his eyes, huffing as you stood up.

“Lena, come,” he turned around, as the dog jumped into his lap.

“Why didn’t you let the construction workers come to renovate?” You asked him, going to sit on the couch. He didn’t pay you much mind, more focused on rubbing the dog.

“They all use cheap material and will make it look all modern”

“This company is good, I swear, we need this, the walls are peeling, for god's sake,” you pointed out.

“It gives the house character,” he shrugged.

“Lestat,” you stared at him with a straight face, while he smirked.

“Why did you take down our wedding photo?” He raised an eyebrow.

“All of the pictures need to be taken down, and the coffins put away, for the renovation. I’d prefer to not have to wipe anyone’s memory because they’re wondering why there is a wedding photo of us in the 30s”

“It could simply be a black and white photo, you don’t look a day over 20, as ethereal as you’ve always been,” he complimented, his eyes quickly traveling from head to toe, enjoying your outfit. You always managed to keep up with time, blending in with society. You even learned how to use a smartphone and were sometimes active on social media. Lestat on the other hand, was stuck in his ways, still dressing as lively as he always did, in a nice suit.

In certain areas, he showed his age, not liking a lot of modern music, casual clothing, or how to use technology. All he had was his iPad, like a child, took it everywhere with him, only your contact saved inside. He still struggled to text or FaceTime you, but it was his go-to when the two of you were apart.

“So, how’s the music going?” You changed the subject.

“I will be going on tour soon,” he said, smiling as you clapped in excitement.

“I can’t wait, you’re going to be amazing,” you praised him.

Lestat had always been gifted when it came to music, regularly writing his music to play for you on evenings when you had nothing to do. It wasn’t until he made his first song, for you personally, that you pestered him about publishing it. Now over 50 years after that moment, he released a song, and while it was under his name, his face was completely anonymous. Although it wasn’t for the reason you’d think.

Your social media had been growing, as you publicized your company. Vampires immediately began to recognize you, questioning if you were trying to reveal to the world what you were. They spoke from all over day and night about harming you, when Lestat released the song, taking the attention off of you. They were too afraid of him to boldly do anything, and you being his companion, automatically were protected. You didn’t agree with his decision, but after weeks of dealing with his stubbornness, you accepted the choice he made.

No one knew the face behind the hypnotizing voice, and you were certain they would be falling to their knees as they saw his beautiful face.

“Are you nervous?” You asked as he kept a poker face.

“Of course,” he grinned playfully.

“You’re going to kill it, just hearing them all screaming your name, I can’t wait,” you told him, watching as he sat Lena down, standing to approach you.

“Will you…scream my name”

“Always,” you leaned back, crossing your legs as he moved next to you, his fingertips softly dragging down your leg.

“Then I won’t be nervous”

“There will be groupies…men and women,” you started.

“I won’t invite anyone into our bed you don’t want there,” he shook his head, as you moved to peck his lips.

“I know you will be a superstar, everything about you is remarkable, I love you”

“Anymore praise and I might get an airhead,” he laughed.

“I love you more,” he continued.

“And what about the others, I trust you can protect yourself perfectly, but what if they try to-

“None of them are bold enough to try and if they are then they are asking to see their final death. I won’t let anyone harm you, all because you wanted to share your beautiful pictures with the world,” he told you, wrapping his arm around you, pulling you close.

“Thank you, I couldn’t be more grateful for you as a companion and husband,” you nuzzled your face in his robe.

“Anything for you, ma chèrie”

#lestat de lioncourt x reader #lestat x reader #lestat de lioncourt #interview with the vampire #amc interview with the vampire #amc iwtv

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pursuitseternal · 6 months

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“Seek Me:” naughty Hide and Seek for you and your Vampire Lord in “The Rogue You Were”

Ascended Astarion x F!Reader | E | 3.4 K of predator/prey, hide and seek double smut

Summary: To fight the impending ennui of politics, you play a game, just a simple hunt, a sort of dark and perverted hide and seek. Winner claims the spoils, and the spoils are always… delicious.

CW: predator/prey dynamics, perverted hide and seek, slight exhibitionism (twice), rough sex, possessive sex, double cream pie, (surprise) carriage sex

Ao3 link | Astarion fic Masterlist

Chapter 11… Seek Me

🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸

Shadows stretch across the palace halls, bending and misshaping anything familiar. That creeping memory of sneaking in here years ago to stop the Rite that made you and your love what you are still niggles in your thoughts and nightmares sometimes.

Times like this, you wonder why Astarion insisted on living in such a place of past torment. Even though the decor was brighter and the crimsons more vibrant, it didn’t matter in the dark.

All looked the same cloaked in shadows and covered in night.

Your undead heart pounds, it's slow and hard as your breasts rise and fall rapidly with your breaths. Why… why did you agree to let him go first? Some little game to break the ennui. A simple game of hide and seek. But you should have known, hiding and seeking was more than that in an ancient ancestral, vampiric palace.

And it was always more than that with Astarion, your love, your sire, your husband.

You keep your eyes open for his glowing red gaze… your ears train the ground for his near silent step… he’s far more practiced at all being a vampire entails. He can hold his breath, slow his heart, move like death incarnate.

Your only advantage is that you know the palace better. All these days spent overseeing renovations as he attended council meetings and travels, you had more than a few tricks up your sleeve. As long as he didn’t catch you first.

Darting onto the balcony, you keep to the shadows and hug the wall. If you can just make it inside the hall, you’re sure he won’t find you for quite some time.

After all, it’s just a little game to play while your guests are still departing, admiring your new palace. It’s only a matter of time now before you both need to leave for some grand soirée, another of many evenings wrapped up in tedium and the boring banter of politics and power. This game is to spice up the evening ahead. And instead, it just makes your heart race.

Winner or loser, you know you’re just going to end up split on his cock, gasping and pleasured wherever you are. Wherever it is he finds you.

You just hope it’s not within earshot of these nobles…these poor, pathetic souls who wander to look at your splendorous home. You hear their voices from down below, lightening your step to go unnoticed. Muffled noises grow closer. Hands shaking, you know that hidden door is here… behind this panel, your hands skim over the ornate wallpaper, searching with fumbling touch for the switch. Noises grow louder, and suddenly you’re aware of the milling crowd on the other side of the railing. They can just catch you from the corners of their judgemental eyes, their ears just within reach enough to hear you if you were to make enough noise…

You wonder if they can also hear those footsteps approaching. Astarion. Hunting you down, seeking you in your fun and twisted game.

Trembling, ragged breaths come from your mouth as you finally hear the click of the hidden switch, the panel shifting in the wall to reveal total and utter darkness. You smile, relieved….

Until two glowing crimson eyes open to look down on you from within. Quicker than breath, he’s turned you around, dagger to your throat and arms pinning you against his chest as he laughs so quietly in your ear. “Shhhh, not a sound… my treasure.” He grinds his prominent erection on the curve of your ass through your thin silken gown. “Not if you want those Patriars and Council members to hear how much of a slut you are for your lover…”

You swallow the sound that longs to break from your throat. His hand, the one that isn’t skating the blade of his dagger tantalizingly over your neck, skates up your thigh, rucking up your skirts to reveal your bare legs and curves. Just the way he likes you.

“You want that, want to show off how much I crave you, don’t you…?” you hiss the question, pulling at his arm enough to free you, but he only retaliates with a smile on his lips.

Clutching you all the harder, he spins you both into the wall to press you into that elegant wallpaper. That dagger blade is stowed away, replaced by his hand at your neck. His laugh is laced with pure devilry—he lives for this. That hand returns to hiking up your skirt until you feel nothing but the fine, supple leather of his trousers grinding against your ass. “You question if I’d like the powerful men of this city to know that its Hero against the Netherbrain whimpers for me almost every hour of the day?” You feel his hands quickly, dexterously unlace those leathers. That thick, hot head of his cock teases against your ass, slipping beneath your thighs as he spreads you wider with his knee. “You wonder if I’m proud that my beloved longs for me always, and I for her?”

You stifle your groan against the rich and ribbed texture of the wallpaper. That cock head teasing into your entrance just enough to make you shake, to make you press against the wall harder to lift your hips more for him. A low growl shakes against your sensitive ear as he approves, that cock teasing inside you just a little bit more. “Tell me, my treasure, how hard did you try to hide from me? That couldn’t have really been your best…” he taunts you, both with that hot and blunted head in your folds and his words in your ear. “Once I’m finished claiming my victory this round, you’ll just have to try again you know…”

Shivering, you nod, your cheek rubbing that expensive paper, its lush colors too bright to have your face shoved against it. “Oh no, I was barely trying, my love,” you lie just to taunt him all the same. “I just wanted you to claim your victory, worried you’d take too long for how badly I need you.”

“Such pleasing words from my lust-driven consort,” he chuckles, quiet enough for your ear alone. “Such a slut, just for me, is that it?” he rasps as he shoves himself deep into you at last, fangs sinking into your neck all at once. “What kind of lover would I be to deny you that?”

He sucks harder at your neck, hips pistoning against your rear deliberately and smoothly. You physically bite your tongue and cheek to keep from moaning, the hard won prize of this game going to both of you, that desire flooding your bond. Thighs shaking, you know you won’t last much longer, not with the thrill of being just out of eyesight from the dozen or so guests that still mill around. “I look forward to you trying to beat me again,” he growls in your ear, words staggered and stuttered with his thrusts. “But we better finish this round before anyone suspects the Vampire Lord and his Consort of being so madly in love they can’t keep their hands or sexes off each other, hmm?”

A small whine escapes your self-imposed gag on your lips, and it makes him laugh low and dangerously in his throat. “What a good little consort,” he nips at your ear. “Just can’t help yourself. So clever to get caught…” he groans. With that thickening inside you, that gravel in his voice, you know he’s growing close.

The thought alone makes you come undone, back arching, your fangs breaking your own lip’s flesh. It takes every ounce of self-restraint to keep yourself from mewling and screaming as you burst in heat. And all the while, he’s groaning and rasping in your right ear. Shivers run down your back as he grunts harder in that sensitive spot against your neck. Erratic, hard thrusts jab deep inside you, his cock twitching as it pulses and fills you.

“That scent will make it harder for you to hide this time, you know my treasure,” he emphasizes with a deep breath right against your neck. “Your blood, my cum, your arousal… You’re such a mess, marked so well. There’s nowhere inside this palace I won’t be able to track you down, you know…”

You smirk, spinning in his arms to rest your back against the wall. “We’ll see about that…” you tease, breathless and overconfident. He just smirks, that edge of arousal and intrigue darkening the deep crimson of his narrowing eyes.

“I’m sure you’ll do your best, my darling little vampling,” he kisses your lips longingly, a little playful nip at the end, the mingling of iron on your tongues from your blood. He breaks away, eyes wide, frightening as he wraps his hand around your throat, your skin still slick from blood. “We have half an hour before we must depart for the evening, my pet. You had better not delay us, you know.”

“You wish me to let you win in that time so we remain… punctual?” you tease.

“I’m just stating the obvious,” he shakes his head very slowly as he smirks wide enough to bare his fangs, “I won’t be pleased if I have to leave without you just because you decided to be clever.”

“I… am… clever,” you taunt, tapping him on his nose with each insolent word.

Astarion pulls his hand away from your throat, eyes glinting, breath still. “Then I’ll let you get a head start, my clever girl…” he leans his fanged face into yours, “so you had better run.”

You stumble away, thighs slick as he watches you break out into the evening on the balcony again. He just laughs, your scent too strong in his nose. Voices from below call up to him, those guests wishing to impart a few more good wishes to their host before their departure for the next gathering. Astarion shoves his cock back in his trousers, perfecting his appearance before leering down at the nobles form over that thick railing. Those mortals so literally far beneath him. “A fair evening to you,” he calls with a flourish. “My lady and I will see you at the festivities anon. A few matters of home to wrap up before the evening, I’m afraid.”

He sniffs the air, the stink of these guests cloud his senses. Striding down the stairs, he tries to pick up your scent, but there are just too many bodies, too much stale wine and general stink. Once the door is shut to the palace, once he is truly alone, he tears through room after room, searching and sniffing. His mind tugs against yours. “Where are you… darling….?” he growls down your bond, but you know better than to answer. “Trying so hard to be clever, is that it?”

He sneers to himself as he sweeps silently through bedchambers and ballrooms and galleries. He presses against the walls at cracks and hidden doors to scent you within the tunnels. The clock starts to chime, and Astarion hisses in frustration. He hears the carriage rumbling outside the main doors.

“On the gods, darling,” he hisses outloud and down their bond. “If you don’t come out right now, I will be sorely disappointed.” He huffs, grabbing his gloves and cane perched neatly in the foyer. He pauses for a moment, tilting his pointed ear to listen to his palace, scanning his domain for her. “You think you’ve won?” he snips, irritated and irked as he starts out the door towards the waiting coach. It’s black paint trimmed with gold shines in the torchlight as night falls. “I assure, my darling, if you don’t come this moment to the coach for the evening’s gathering…”

He lets the threat hang in the air. Not even a tremor of a laugh from her end of their bond. Teeth grinding, he launches from the door into the gathering dark of night. He opens the carriage door with a shout for the driver to make haste. Before the door has even shut behind him, his team of raven black mares is off through the Upper City.

Astarion flops down on the elegantly cushioned seat of his coach. His cane in his hands nearly breaks in the strength of his angered grip. “How dare she…” he hisses into the dark as the carriage bumps and sways over the streets. That little window lets the wind whistle in. Usually he enjoys the breeze on his face, but now, tonight, it annoys the hells out of it. He slams it shut

Suddenly, without that breeze, a scent reaches his nose. Blood… arousal…

“Oh… my love…” your voice tickles his mind.

The couch sways around a corner, something shuffling near his feet. A hand shoots up to grab the hem of his jacket, yanking him towards the floor.

“Darling…” he purrs down at you as your eyes lock into his, your fangs must be glinting in the dim light in the carriage.

“I win,” you gloat, your body pinned beneath him on the floor of your carriage. His legs are already spreading yours, hands already roughly pulling your skirts up to your waist, yet you feel like the victor. The prey finally catches the predator in her neat little trap.

“Clever little consort, setting her snare so neatly for me to wind up between your legs…” he rasps, his body bumping and swaying against you in time with the movements of your coach. But then he begins to add a few more deliberate thrusts of his clothed and hardened cock against your already used and soaking folds. “What is the prize you wish to claim, my treasure?”

“You know my favorite prize,” you purr, catching the edge of his pointed ear in your mouth for a suck, one that deafens him for the moment from the rumble of your coach. A moan slips out from his lips far louder than would be dignified.

His ear slips from your mouth as he turns his head, a snarl in Astarion’s throat as he catches your chin. “Then it is everything you shall receive…” he growls, “when I decide to finally give it to you…” he teases you darkly, those hips grinding against your folds mercilessly. He’s heavy on your core, the bumping and jostling of the carriage stealing your breath as he sometimes times his thrusts with the unpredictable up-down. It only makes him laugh harder and capture your lips in his when he squashes you so completely.

“Maybe if you had just played the game properly, you wouldn’t be feeling so trapped like the little prey you are for me, my little treat…” he nips into your neck, just a small bite. Enough to draw blood by the mouthful for him to feast on.

“I did play, and I won,” you chuckle low in your throat, reaching between our hips to blatantly touch myself. “Maybe it’s time you paid respects to the victor this round?” You tease him, acerbic and haughty as he hears your fingers toying through your own slick.

Astarion gives that low and wicked laugh, relishing your defiant spirit. “I don’t think you want anything respectful done with you…. Do you my treasure?” He can’t stiffle a groan as he teases his own cock head through your sopping seam. Over the rattling of your wooden coach cobblestones, you hear the wet sounds of him playing inside you. It sends shivers down your spine and makes you bite your lips enough to draw your own blood to paint your lips scarlet.

You groan, the carriage lurches around a corner making you both roll to the side. A wicked laugh in your throat, you take full advantage of the surprise. Momentum swings you around, until you are the one on top, in a second, a little rise of your hips, and you sink his cock deep inside you.

Astarion bares his fangs and hisses at the sudden warmth and wet that sucks him in, his head now bouncing on the floor. You ride him mercilessly. “Such a good prize you are…” you tease him, gripping his chin to make him look at you. “Nothing like having the Vampire Ascendant at my mercy for once,” you flaunt your victory.

“You think yourself so clever and….” he starts, but you press a finger against his mouth before sticking two of them inside his mouth as you shush him.

“Hush,” you smirk, glowing in your moment of power. You swirl your fingers around his mouth, grazing over his wet and sucking tongue, pricking your skin on his razor-fangs. “Just let your clever Consort have this victory once,” you smile, pouting down at him a bit as you pull your fingers from his salivating lips.

“Very well, my darling,” he growls, “but at least you could let your loving Ascendant lord sit up so his head isn’t addled by the roads.”

You snicker, “Of course. We wouldn’t want to have your mind any more befuddled by my glorious win.” Your smirk is feral and arrogant. You ease off of him, watching with a knowing and careful eye as he slides himself up to rest against the door of the carriage.

He tosses his head, your bodies still joined perfectly, the coach still rocking with that extra, insatiable friction that moves your sexes on their own. He smirks as you ride over a massive bump, one that fairly throws you into the air to slide down his cock with more force than you can give. You gasp as it makes you land squarely on him, cock head slamming your cervix.

The grin on his face grows delightfully sadistic as it twists those sharp features. You see his ears twitching as he listens closely to the rumbles of the coach, smirk winding higher as he lifts you up in time with the coach to slam you back down as it falls….

You grit your teeth and scream through them with a smile as he fills you, sharp and suddenly. “Get riding, my clever treasure,” he chuckles as he pulls you in for a kiss, “or these roads and I will do it for you.”

You give him a glare, more amorous than angry, your mouth slack as you buck your hips with abandon. You bite your lip as you move, the vibrations of the coach send you barreling towards your bliss so quickly. Hard and fast, your hands grip into the stitching of his jacket, his breath hot at the base of your neck. His gaze burns your skin, watching the way your breasts jiggle and move right before his eyes as you are thrown around, at the mercy of the coach’s movements.

He groans, the pressure so great inside you both, you feel it searing between you and crashing down your mental bond. With one breath, you clench around him, his hands grip into your waist to keep you steady as he tries to snap his hips. It bursts inside you, the pressure and pleasure erupting through your core as you reach your peaks as one. He places a breathless kiss on the soft skin of your bosom. “I do so love when you win too, my perfect prey and equal hunter…” he pants against your flesh. “I’ll gladly let you claim your victory from me…” his left brow arches rakishly and teasing, “but only when you’ve earned it, my darling…”

“Hmmm,” you hum, irritated and yet shivering in pleasure. “Just admit, I’m just as good…”

Suddenly the carriage rumbles to a stop, and you lock eyes with Astarion. Voices approach from behind the door, and your two sets of crimson eyes flare wide a moment before the door pulls open behind him.

He grunts as he spills backward, unceremoniously dangling out the door. His head hangs over the edge of the coach, his fanged smile wide and grinning as he stares into the crow upside down, while your hands grabbing furiously at your skirts to hide your sexes still throbbing and intertwined. He laughs that low and rumbling giggle, quite the sight as other guests pause to stare at the Vampire Ascendant indulging within his own private coach. “Well,” he chortles, sitting up to give a bit of privacy as you slide off his lap, “there isn’t any use hiding our love any longer…” Astarion nips at your neck playfully as he refastesns his trousers. “If they sought a glimpse into the loving depravities of the Ascendant and his consort, they certainly found it.”

You giggle, the rush of being so on display racing through your nerves. Carefully you follow him out of the coach, both of you straightening your clothes as if nothing happened. “And you wanted to play your games thinking tonight would be boring,” you rasp into his ear.

He stops in the middle of the grave path and pulls you hard into him, his kiss all lips and fangs and tongue down your throat. Hiding nothing of your passion from the spectators. “Nothing is boring when I’m with you.”

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thenordroom · 2 months

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A Moody Color Palette and Eclectic Interiors in a London Apartment

A Small Renovated 1920s Apartment in Stockholm

A Swedish Apartment with a Yellow Kitchen

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A Sage Green IKEA Bedroom with A Walk-In Closet

#interiors #home decor #decorating #interior design

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kayleigh-83 · 4 months

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Hi, could you share which ROS events you use please 😀

I know I'd shared these a couple times before, but I scrolled back a bit and it's definitely changed a lot since the last time, which was August 2022! Back then I had 48 on the list, now it's up to 70.

Putting more info and the full list behind a cut to save your dash!

I just keep all my gameplay notes and stuff on my ipad, easiest for me. I don't use an ROS program or anything so there's no weighting, no major or minor scenarios etc. I just use Siri or random.org to pick a number.

The scenarios are a mix of other people's lists I've found, plus ones I've made up myself. It's pretty nice to my Sims so there aren't any death or divorce ones or anything lol. I've removed some I used to use as my gameplay has evolved, if they no longer fit.

Day out - all eligible Sims go to a community lot

Movie night - invite friends over for a movie and snacks

Picnic - make food and go to a park for a picnic

Family reunion - invite over any known family members

Blind date - call matchmaker for a single Sim

New outfit - your Sim wants a new outfit, go shopping

Games night - no homework for kids, play games all night

Large pet adoption - get a cat or a dog, Roll dice to choose

Small pet adoption - a small caged animal will join the family (including rabbits)

Grouchy - your Sim picks d4 arguments with another

Vacation time - spend a couple nights away at a vacation destination (or more!)

Fitness regime - your Sim wants to work out, get fit and eat healthy

Rebellious - child or teen skips school and doesn’t do homework for 1 to 3 days, sneaks out, bad interactions

Date night - take a Sim couple out on a date

It’s a phase - a child will only wear a costume for 1 to 3 days, teens get a piercing or drastically change appearance

Party time - throw a party!

Friendly neighbour - chat up the next d3 walk bys

Bad influence - influence someone to do something stupid d4 times

Take advantage - influence someone to do you a favor d4 times

Exchange student - host a teenager from a foreign country; receive $5000 from the exchange agency to cover your expenses

Tired of cooking - order delivery at least once a day for 2 to 4 days

Shopaholic - patronize at least 4 different local businesses this round

Stray love - greet and interact with the next stray you see, try to adopt

Old pets, new tricks - teach a pet a new command

Lottery win - roll dice 1 to 10 and multiply by 10,000

Scratch card win - roll dice 1 to 10 and multiply by 1000

Worst fears realized - fulfill 5 fears in a rotation

Barber shop - change your Sim’s hairstyle

Four eyes - your Sim needs to get glasses

Witchy - become a witch for at least two rotations

Redecorate - choose a room or space in the home and give it a facelift

Identity crisis - change aspiration for this round

Reconnect with friends - invite 2-4 friends for an outing

Make Your Move - if single, try to initiate a romantic relationship with a Sim that you have a high relationship/chemistry with

Time to Commit - if you’re in a romantic relationship but uncommitted, take it to the next level (either go steady or engagement/marriage depending)

Scary dare - visit the cemetery at night

Dine out - go out to a restaurant to have a meal

Lead by Example - have your Sim encourage their child in a trait they value

Kitchen Renovations - no dishwasher or stove, just a sink and microwave or toaster oven, while you wait for the new appliances to arrive! (D4 days)

On the prowl - take a single (or romance) Sim out on the town to pick someone up for woohoo (or teen level activities)

Hobby Focus - Spend at least two hours every day doing an activity for your chosen hobby

Brace face - child or teen Sim must get braces for the round

Dye Job - dye hair a different colour for the round

Slumber Party - teen or child invites friends over for a sleepover

Cool Parent - try to befriend d2 of your kid’s friends

Playing Matchmaker - influence a friend to flirt with someone else

ISBI light - pick a Sim and control only them for 3 days

Creature of the Night - become a vampire for the round

Unexpected Tax Bill - lose d20-40% of your family funds to unpaid back taxes

Power outage - d2 days with no power (only make uncooked meals)

Family Heirlooms - inherit d3 family heirlooms from a distant relative; use kaching and purchase items of around $1000 each

Infertility - your Sim is sadly no longer able to have children!

Orphan relation - a close relation has died, leaving their child orphaned! As the closest living relative, you are now the legal guardian. Move in a toddler or child (d2). Receive $5000 from the government for your generosity to help raise the little tyke.

Rocky relationship - couple argues at least 2 times a day in the round

Great aunt/uncle in town - create an elderly Sim to come stay for the round - after they become a townie if desired

Bylaw fine - your Sim put the trash out to the curb too early and have received a bylaw fine - d6 x $100

Start a club! Find up to 3 Sims who share your hobby, and get to know them better. If you can participate in your chosen hobby together, even better!

Money tree! Your Sim finds a mysterious tree in a pot by their front door. The note on it says to use it wisely because it will only be around for a short time? Buy a money tree and keep for one rotation

Resurrect old friendships - call and invite over the friend your Sim has lost touch with the most (lowest relationship score while still being friends)

Customer appreciation day - to thank your loyal customers for their patronage, mark down the prices at your shop for a day and provide treats for your customers

Ambrosia - take a sip from the elixir of life (Roll to choose between adults or elders in the household)

Mate like rabbits - risky woohoo d5 times in the next 48 hours, hope there aren’t any unintended consequences!

Unexpected vet bill! Your little companion swallowed something they shouldn’t have and the bill comes to $5000! If you don’t have enough money, you might have to take out a loan.

Woohoo scavenger hunt - must woohoo on/in four different possible locations this round (bed, couch, car, photobooth, hot tub, changing booth, elevator)

Lost a dare - walk around in a silly costume for d3 days, go on at least one date or outing in it

Holding a Torch - your Sim is feeling nostalgic for their first crush; have them meet up for a date and see where it leads…

Running with the pack - become a werewolf for the round

I Want More! - your Sim now has six want slots

Changing Preferences - change all your turn ons and turn offs - will this affect how you feel about your significant other?

A Sudden Craving - change to grilled cheese aspiration for the round

Kibble of Life - give your four legged friends something to help keep them around longer

Sudden Poverty - family funds reduced to $100

Sudden Weath - family funds increased to $250,000

You Can't Always Get What You Want - try not to fulfill any wants for d5 days

#ts2 #the sims 2 #ts2 simblr #ros scenarios

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uglypastels · 1 year

Text

Not Wholly Evil |II| Pirate!Eddie au

summary: as the daughter of the Governor, there is quite a heavy prize set on your safe return home, and the captain will not let anything come between him and his bounty.

Series Masterlist

word count: 5.7k

"semi dark fic" - READ the warnings:. (gun/sword)violence. blood. heavy scarring and wounding. minor character death. allusions to suicide, depression and trauma. kidnapping. imprisonment. alcohol. open and deep sea. pirates are pigs: frequent mentions of non-con and allusions to assault, but it does not actually occur. malnourishment. abuse. manhandling.

There might be a mention of other ST characters, and for plot's sake, everyone is an adult here, just coz I don't want fetus pirates running around, but they are not really relevant to the plot.

Chapter 2: Asphodel "Because you and I are alike, and there will come a moment when you have a chance to show it." - Elizabeth Swann, Pirates of the Caribbean

Despite gaining the privilege of an open cage and access to the rest of the ship, you decided against this freedom… and in a way, that was all the freedom you could ask for, wasn’t it? To choose where to go or where to stay. The restrictions were only so far as anyone else on this ship. The uncharted waters kept you all at the bay of the plank.

But perhaps there was a part of you was scared to go beyond what had now become your own piece of the ship, a safety blanket among the ravenous snake pit. It was not even a question. You could just tell by how you closed your cell door at the sound of footsteps approaching down the ladder towards you. These men were wild and unpredictable. You could never expect what they would do once with you. The distance was the only option.

Perhaps not so free as the rest, after all.

Yet.

Because you would fight it. All of them. Make your presence known and show everyone you were not like any other they had snagged off a ship. You assumed there had been more, after all. More prisoners, more girls to take advantage of. The shackles hanging down from the wall in your cell, stained red with rust and blood, were proof enough of what once occurred below deck.

Despite being the safest place you could be in, it still was a nightmare on Earth to spend your days there, among the crates and chests filled with stolen treasures, supplies, and whatever else was deemed worth the same amount of treatment as you. Everything had been stacked mindlessly, dropped at the earliest convenience, and items only moved to make a short path to your holding cell. The disorganisation and thoughtlessness around you had been a bittersweet nuisance. You could not stand it, but at the same time, it was nice to have something so trivial on your mind as the lacklustre distribution of goods around the ship.

Clearly, no one cared about what was going on. No one spent enough time there to notice anything, besides you, of course. The only times someone climbed those steps were to bring you your meals or to bring more storage in. So what harm would it do to you put some order to it?

It wasn’t much, but you had created a way to pass the long hours aboard. And it was pleasant, though exhausting. With the food you were given, your energy was not what it once used to be, and the first thing to go when not feeding the body properly is the muscle. Moving the larger items took a while, but you saw a positive outcome. By taking everything slowly, you had no fear of completing your task soon. It was a never-ending activity. Tiring but something for you to do, and most importantly, keep your mind too occupied with the straining work ahead rather than the larger picture of your current circumstances.

A part of it was also an attempt at claiming your territory. Lifting large boxes was doing the trick when it came to letting out your anger and frustrations, too, a way to channel everything into the peculiar renovation. A point to focus on something physical, something you could control, instead of your emotions and everything going on around you.

A few days since you began doing so, things started making sense. But, most importantly, no one who ever came down there seemed to notice or care what you were doing. Besides the food they had to feed you to keep you alive, there was little interest they seemed to have for your existence.

You found many other objects that they must have considered rubbish, but you could use them just fine. Like the old sails, or what you assumed were scraps of an old torn sail, folded up in a corner. It was such a large piece of material that you tied it up to the corners of your barred walls, creating a curtain that gave you some privacy. Most of the chests around you were locked, giant padlocks handing down from the cover, the keys most likely at the bottomless pit of the ocean along to their original owners. But some were shut, and of course, you poked a peak inside with interest.

Some were empty, and some had scrolls of paper, which you took up as light reading for early mornings when the sun hit through the windows just right, giving you a bright light source. There were captain logs and maritime routes; letters never sent, and maps never finished.

One caught your attention, and you read the most on those drabby mornings when nothing else could make you feel alive. This one particular letter, which you could only assume was intended for a young woman from her lover, kept your heart beating and your hopes of escaping this ship alive. At least the parts of it that you had managed to find, for the parchment was ripped to pieces, the last chunk still missing among the piles of items you were roaming through.

By now, you had read it so many times you didn’t even need the paper to recite it.

My dearest, The nights have been cruel, but I spend them thinking of you, and suddenly, the dark sky does not feel so heartless anymore. I think of your eyes. The sea reminds me of them— it is a calming sight each morning, and I imagine you looking out of your window at the shore, and perhaps we look up at the same clouds, and it is like you are right by my side and the wind feels not as harsh suddenly. More like a kiss straight from your lips. Some days I hum the words of that song you sang to me. I know what you have said about my voice, and the kind words still warm my heart, but it will never compare to yours. I will never do the melody justice. Only you…

There certainly was something about the love you felt seeping through each word you read and reread. It almost put you down into this state of calmness as it looped in your mind in the evening, letting you fall asleep.

It was another evening like all the others before it. Your dinner had been served in silence. If you had not known better, you would have assumed all men had taken an oath of silence, never to speak again, but it was evident the quiet was only limited to you. As you felt the slumber climb over you, the deck was alive and well.

The contrast between living aboard the Hellfire at night and day could not be more than that. While the sun was up, the boots fell heavy above your head, fatigue coming over them as the work had to be done. The crew did what they could to keep the boat afloat and sailing on. As much as the deep waters could be a calming sight to some, it was absurd that there could be nothing around you but water for days. Undoubtedly, the ship must reach a harbour quickly; provisions could only be stored in the salt barrels for so long. The last time the boat reached shore must have been days before your cage door had opened. Then again, you knew what going ashore meant for the people like the Hellfire crew… and did not wish the aftermath upon your worst enemies.

There would be fire, which you knew they adored. It came alive in spirit and light when the night sky appeared. When the work was done, and the sails smoothly let themselves be guided by the wind, you could always hear them walking above your cage, taunting their freedom with songs and tales. The ship was like a masquerade when the moon lit everything in her silver glow. It would have to be, or else the weariness and longing for land would take over.

The songs were nothing special, typical shanties and hymns allured by a drunken chorus, singing the ballads of adventure and treasures, beautifully sombre. Yet, these moments made you believe that some humanity was left in them. Some kindness and compassion, too. A part that they would never dare show when the sun came up.

It was as if the men aboard were two different people in one, where one side came out during the night and the other during the day. And you seemed to much prefer the nighttime sort. As, during the sun hours, the candles and lanterns went out, and with it, their souls were all back to their usual dirty selves. Their dark spirits would take over once more.

Either way, the nights were extended, as no sleep came to anyone. Not with the singing being so loud that it drilled into your ears. For them, slumber would come later and disappear quickly too, but no one seemed to mind.

You had no way of telling the time on board, the only possible tell sign would be the sun's position, but even that was never exactly as you had barely any idea where in the world you were. All you could make out was that the crew made way for their hammocks in the small hours of the morning when the sun teased its appearance at the horizon, its glow awakening everything else but the drunken sailors that held you captive.

The ship was asleep. The only sounds you could make were the waves smashing into the vessel and the gulls screeching in the distance. It was an opportunity. You could roam the deck unbothered.

With a deep but shaky breath, you inhaled the salty sea air as you climbed the ladder, hands paling at your knuckles from your grip on it. The trapdoor opened with a creak, and you froze in your movements, waiting for the sound to have woken up everybody… but the silence resumed. You let out another deep breath and pushed the door open to reveal the sky, millions of stars looking down at you, but already fading as the sun appeared slowly. The dewy morning hours were dark but brighter than anything you had been surrounded with since your capture.

It had been getting colder by the day, and you already knew that by sitting in your cell. Soon enough, more than your dress would be needed for the climate you were entering. Shivers swarmed your arms at the wind blowing by. Your steps remained small and apprehensive as you needed help figuring out where to go. You had the entire ship deck to yourself for a short time. There was so much to explore above ground, but your legs automatically steered you towards the barriers of the ship.

You walked over to the ship's edge, letting your nails dig into the wood and your frustrations on the trim piece. Stand there, look at the horizon, and watch the sun slowly rise from under the water. The first sunrise you witnessed in weeks— at least not from the small window that peaked right over your head in your cell– had been a euphoric experience. Everything felt brand new. As your last attempts at peeking at the waves had resulted in painful flashbacks of your previous minutes aboard the Red Tail, now, you focused on the calm ripples of the water. No longer was the only thing you saw in the blue the blood of your long-lost friends. You saw their resting place. In the early morning, golden sun rays peeked out from the horizon, illuminating the drab grey of the waters like a liquid treasure hiding beneath the surface. You saw the waves moving along the ship sheepishly, back and forth. Calmly, sleepy, drifting away into the distance with each push of the boat and wind. It was slowly waking up, the sea, the earth.

What would it dream of, you pondered. It must be lovely to be so at peace.

If you closed your eyes and let the fresh golden light wash over you for long enough, you could fool yourself into oblivion. That you were somewhere else. A happy place.

It was so peaceful and quiet that the smallest of disturbances broke you out of your happy thoughts. You felt the presence from across the ship, his eyes on you, disintegrating your moment of bliss. But, of course, it could have been anyone, and you expected it to be one of the crewmates, one of the men with poor luck who had to start their work shift with the sun.

Never, in a million years, did you imagine turning around and meeting with a pair of golden hazel eyes. Captain Munson was leaning against one of the masts, leg prodded against the wooden pole. He chuckled at the sight of your face, evidently struck with panic. How had he even reached the centre of the deck so quietly? Because… he could not have been standing there, or anywhere, all this time?

In one hand, he held an apple, and in the other, a small knife. He pressed the blade against the fruit’s skin and his thumb over it, cutting a small piece off. Then, still with the knife under it, he brought the apple slice to his lips. Never did his eyes leave yours as he ate. You felt unnerved with each move he made. You felt the need to look away, but for some reason, you simply couldn’t. It was like he was capturing you in a trance. So instead, you let your nails dig into the ship’s rail even more.

‘Do not let me disturb you, my darling,’ he eventually said and bode you farewell with a slight bow before parting ways. You were left stunned. Not sure what to say or do, you just turned back to look at the sea. It had no effect and felt like a sore loser's words, but you mumbled “Not your darling” under your breath.

Had that been all? It was all extremely disorienting. Because, of course, he had meant to disturb you. He did so to your very core. That cold-eyed gaze opposed the actual warmth of his honey irises. It froze your blood. It spoiled everything about your morning.

And as quickly he had appeared behind you, so quick the captain was to disappear out of your view again. You looked around yourself for good measure, extending your neck to locker over the larger barrels standing in the corners of the deck, but he had genuinely evaporated into the early day’s mist. A phantom of the sea.

But just because he was gone didn’t mean his presence was. You still felt his eyes on you, lurking from hidden darkness. Perhaps the darkness was in your own head, inner thoughts poisoning your sanity, but the feeling remained nonetheless.

Suddenly, the calm sea was anything but. Instead, the light sky seemed dull and grey, the waves bouncing off the ship aggressive. There was nothing peaceful about it left behind. There was nothing left for you there. But you remained steady in your place on the boat, looking out ahead at the horizon until the sun rising began to burn your eyes with its bright presence, and the wind blew harder. Only then did you decide, on your own devices, to head back down into the warmer discomfort of your enclosure.

You lay on the ground and threw that thin fleece over yourself, hoping to fall asleep and thus pass on the rest of the day. But, if Lady Luck was on your side, it would be one of the silent dreams that asked nothing of you but your mind, leaving it as it was. In fact, letting you rest from the horrors that were your life.

And so, the sleep came, but quiet it was not.

Flashes of the Red Tail. Flames, explosions, blood, it was all around you. Men dying over and over again. You tried to scream out, reach for them, and help them, but it was as if your body was stuck in the mud, unable to move. So you just had to stand there, helplessly, as you watched everyone around you die.

The pool of blood expanded over the sinking ship. The sky turned dark, almost black. You looked up to see the sun–that same sun that kissed you welcome mere minutes ago at the horizon– melting, enveloping everything in darkness. Once you looked back down, another urge to scream came over you.

A figure was standing not far from you, perhaps a few feet away. Covered in the blood that the ship was drowning in, from head to toe, he was basically dripping in it.

He smiled at you, a canine-baring grin. Then, slowly but steadily, he neared you.

“Oh, we’re going to have a lot of fun, princess, aren’t we?’

You awoke with a pitched scream.

Breathing heavily, just trying to get your heart back on a steady rhythm, the clanking of swords echoing in your head was doing everything against it. Just like that day on the Red Tail. Just like in your dream. You could still hear it, and it felt so real. Each loud hit of metal against metal made you wince. Cannons would follow soon. Then the blood…

But only the swords remained. It kept going and going. Then there were the footsteps. Heavy above you, making the whole ceiling shake. It felt like a stampede, in all honesty. And there was shouting. Boisterous clammer. Followed by crowded cheers and some clinking… that you could not immediately make out what it was supposed to be.

One thing you knew for sure, however. Whatever was happening above you, it could not mean anything good. It simply reminded you too much of that other day. That first day… or was it your last?

There was a fight ongoing on the deck. The question was, what kind? Were you being attacked? Would another group of men come down the ladder steps and haul you onto another ship? Will they cheer over Munson’s death as these men cheered over Carver’s? Would this circle of hell ever end?

No, it couldn’t be that. The cheering was too joyful and—was that laughter you could hear? Yes. Loud and boisterous. Right above your head. In a chorus. Your mind went to the evenings you had endured sleeplessly as the men jested until the sun rose, but when you looked out the window, you still saw the bright blue sky. So what was going on?

Against your better judgement, you took a risk, all in the thought of showing initiative and how powerful you would look walking out of the trapdoor onto the full deck. You just told yourself that enthusiastic cheering was a sign of no evil. It indicated that it was no malicious attack of another ship, that whatever you would encounter, there would be nothing to be afraid of. With that confidence, you climbed up there, pushed the trapdoor up and–

A blade wobbled back and forth as it deeply penetrated the deck's surface, inches away from your face. You held onto the edge of the floorboards, trying not to fall back down, as the scream that erupted from your lungs halted everything around you. Everybody in reach hooked his gaze on you if they weren’t fast enough to run up to the hole you were attempting to crawl out of. No one helped, of course. They just stared. Dozens of pairs of blank and cold eyes blinked arhythmically as the bodies they belonged to stood frozen in a circle, unsure of what to do next. The blade stuck in the wood still shifted in its new makeshift holster.

Then, much like on your very first day aboard, the circle opened up to reveal the captain. He stood several feet away, and you caught him blinking slowly before approaching you. Had he been hesitant to approach? Was he, though you doubted, startled to see you?

But whatever emotion it had been to cause his hesitance, it was gone as he spoke:

‘Just in time, darling!’ The silence was broken, and so was the tension your appearance had created.

He had an almost identical sword in his hand. Behind him stood one of his crew mates, face paling despite the grimace he was trying to pull off among his peers. He must have been who the captain dramatically disarmed, ending with that sword landing and nearly cutting your nose off. Was anyone feeling guilty for putting that fear upon you?

Highly unlikely.

The captain neared your trapdoor, leaning down on one knee and reaching his hand out to you, an attempt at some fair treatment toward; helping you get up onto the deck gracefully—you boldly refused. The idea of touching him… images your mind had conjured up in the night still pestered you and flashed past your eyes at the sight of his hand so near you. You looked away as your feet touched the deck for the second time that day. You hated the sight of him any given day, but this particular afternoon, it was even more of an unbearable sight.

The captain had abandoned his hat, opting to tie his hair with a red ribbon into a ponytail, failing to do so properly as strands were already escaping at the frame of his face. His long black coat and shirt also had been abandoned. It was a hot day, and with the training, he was most likely performing, the sweat on his chest was already forming, despite the cool breeze standing a strong fight with the sails.

A ghastly sight, truly, the sweat that slicked over the countless prints of black ink on his arms, chest and ribs. The ink barely covered the various scars in the same placements. Some were small, like the nicks of a blade. The new bright red cut across his clavicle would surely join that collage. Others were unmistakably older but must have once been deep flesh wounds, possible gunshots, bites, or the results of things you most likely would not even be able to fathom. It looked like a visual of a life of torture.

You blinked, letting his previous words settle in your mind. ‘In time for what?’ You looked around. All eyes remained on you since you had made your presence known, something you had fallen out of habit with. You were not used to getting so much attention anymore.

‘Training, of course.’ Munson easily pulled the blade out of the ship planks, handing it to you. ‘Has anyone ever taught you how to fight?’

‘No.’ It was unladylike to swordfight, scuffle, argue, or do anything you did at the time of your capture. The heft felt awkward in your grip, clearly too big for your hand, but the entire piece felt off-balance. It must have been a homemade contraption of one of the Hellfire crew. Possibly molten out of the treasures residing downstairs with you. You adjusted your grip on the sword, but nothing felt right.

Nothing you did slipped past the Captain, whose eyes were on you and his crew. He pursed out his bottom lip in a mocking pout.

‘A true pity.’ He swung his blade back and forth. Each swoosh in the air made you flinch. ‘maybe if someone had, you wouldn’t have ended up here with us.’ The chuckle started deep within him but evolved into a guttural laugh from the whole crew. The sound boiled your blood in anger as well as embarrassment. You wanted to attack their captain immediately but knew it wouldn’t end well. He looked you up and down with his casual smirk, and you made it a point to, somewhat confidently, keep your head up. No longer could he think he could just do whatever he pleased with you. ‘But there is always time to learn, I believe.’

‘I don’t want to fight you,’ you simply stated, looking down at the longsword clutched in your hand.

‘C’mon, princess,’ Munson swung his sword back and forth, ‘it’s no fighting. it’s just a bit of fun.’

‘I see no fun in useless acts of violence.’ Did any of your words sound profound? Confident? You were ready to hear another wave of laughter, but it did not come. The only response was a smirk of the captain, but not one you had seen before.

It wavered.

‘Don’t be like that, my darling.’ He recovered with his mockery, but you were no longer having any of it. With large strides, you closed the gap between you two across the deck. The men around you were split in moving back or getting ready to seize you if the situation required interference. The captain was among the former group. His stance shifted backwards as you met him, your chest nearly hitting his.

Your grip tightened on the sword, and he must have noticed it by how his eyes shifted down to your arm and back to your face.

A million different things ran through your mind; there were endless possibilities for relieving your anger at the man standing before you, all being the catalyst of events that you did not dare start. What were you to do?

Your nails dug into your hand as your fingers wrung the halt of the sword. With this object alone, you could do a hundred different things, most of which would result in only a worse situation for yourself.

You struck the blade down with as much power as you could muster. Like it had hit the planks in front of your face moments before, it now missed the captain’s feet by mere inches. He looked down, never moving anything but his eyes, and then looked directly at you again. His features were blank of expression; no fear or anger, but no amusement either.

‘Call me any of that again, and next time it won’t be the deck that gets it.’ You had dared to move closer, letting your faces nearly touch. That smell of cinnamon and rum greeted you again. A few seconds passed as you stood there, eyes piercing through one another. Your blood boiling, his chest heaving with deep, controlled breaths.

He did not respond.

Or at least not until you had turned to walk away.

‘I would love to see you try. It sure is easy making empty threats, prin–’ but he never got to finish his mockery. Perhaps because it was even easier to sound confident behind one’s opponent’s back, not looking them in the eye, that angered you. The fact that the man who threw you in a cage was, in reality, nothing but a coward. At that moment, all regard for your safety escaped you as you turned back on your heel and lunged your fist towards his face.

It must have hurt you more than him, but the pink mark across his cheek was established. You did not bother to await his reaction once more and walked away for good– as far as the circumstances allowed you, which was not far. The ship was only so big, and the circle of men had moved onto the trapdoor, locking you in the fresh afternoon air.

They were ready to retaliate for your aggression towards their captain, but his words boomed across all ears. ‘Stand back! I said stand back,’ he repeated when some still tried to reach for you. You passed the crew and made for the spot you had become familiar with over the morning. Trying to ignore everything behind you, you again reached the ship’s edge. Their voices lingered over everything, impossible to block out, but you let yourself focus on the ripples in the water as your anger subsided.

Not long now. You had already been so close to home when they took you, and it's been days. Surely, soon they would reach the shore of your home and give you back to your family. That idea somehow managed to overcome everything that was actually happening around you.

Though you had slept through most of it, it had been a long day, and signs of it were showing in the sky. Now turning a soft pink and orange as the sun began to set once more, the night was coming. With it, the stars. Would you stay outside long enough to look at them? It had been a sight you had missed properly gazing at the millions of twinkling lives above you, the constellations and the stories they told.

It would all depend on the men that had now resumed their sword-fighting practice.

The casualness of it all was actually rather comforting, as it, for once, did not bring back memories of the unfortunate ship you had bid farewell to but rather the surroundings of your father’s estate. There, men like Admiral Carver were standing guard or practising, but also young boys and girls who ran away from their mothers, pretending to be on great little adventures with large twigs for weapons. For a moment, you could swear you could smell the fresh flowers that bloomed outside your bedroom window, or the spices haggled for at the market in the harbour. There were cats meowing and dogs barking. To think that once you had grown tired of it all, yearned for something new in life, but now could not imagine anything greater than a return home…

Who knew how long you had stood there staring at the darkening horizon. Your thoughts must have sent you off into the distance from the ship, as you had not realised anything happening around you. The sea was quickly becoming a comfort. When looking out at it, you did not have to face the cruel reality of the Hellfire and the people upon it. The waters seemed so inviting and freeing that you couldn’t help but think if maybe walking the plank wasn’t always a punishment…

You had not even noticed the smile creeping up at the corners of your lips, but it never came to fruition as you were broken out of the spell.

‘Beautiful, isn’t it?’ the deep voice startled you, but you did not show it. In your short time aboard, and now being in actual contact with these scoundrels, there was one thing you had learned: To show fear to people like Munson, like the men on this ship, was possibly the stupidest thing a person like you could do. Letting fear control you would let them control you, playing right into their hand. Instead, display confidence and strength, which gets under their skin.

You glanced over as much as you could without physically turning in his direction. His long dark hair messily flowed with the wind now that he had released it from the ribbon. He was looking directly at you, making you grow hot with anger. Then, subtly rolling your eyes, you looked away again, back to the waters. That, however, did not stop the Captain from speaking again.

‘A view like this makes you think of how big the world is. How small you are.’ He held his dagger again in his left hand, twirling it mindlessly between his fingers. He was standing so close that your arms were brushing against one another. His gold and silver chains jingled at the slightest of movements. You tried to focus on that instead of his words. A task that turned out to be much more challenging than you had thought, as the Captain did not enjoy your rejection.

‘A bit of advice, princess,’ he leaned closer to you, his breath mixing with the wind. His nicknames for you would just have to lose their meaning in your head, as clearly, they were not going anywhere. ‘The silent treatment is not doing you any favours. On the contrary, my men like their girls quiet.’

‘Spare me, please,’ you hissed.

‘Believe me,’ he responded as if he could read your mind, ‘finding yourself on our ship has spared you enough,’ he let his head hang lightly askew, looking up at you with his large eyes, bemused– you could tell you had lost his one-sided game by speaking up. Then you might as well keep going.

‘Is that a threat?’ Just a reminder that even when you were not locked in a cage, you were not truly free or safe. Their danger constantly loomed over you.

‘Far from it, darling. I simply hope you know that there are much worse things out there,’ he leaned forward, forehead nearly touching yours as his hand reached out to the waters at your side to point at the waves with his blade. ‘You probably can’t even think up the horrors that live out in the wilderness of the oceans.’ What could he possibly know about your imagination? If only he knew that, at this specific moment, you were considering five different ways to gauge his honey eyes.

You turned to him directly now. His stare at you was cold and focused. The mark you had left on his cheek was now also unavoidable. It called to you and anyone who looked at him like a beacon of a lighthouse. That smile of yours from seconds before threatened to come out again, but you held it in. However unbothered he might have sounded at the strike, you did not believe that could have been it. There must have been a reason for his current approach. What you had done in front of his entire crew was unacceptable and certainly not inconsequential–you could not imagine that he had not set a punishment ready for you. And whatever it would be, you doubted it would be subtle or free of pain. Yet, you reminded yourself of the freshly taught lesson. Keep your head up. Don’t show your fear.

Not breaking eye contact, you decided to simply ask.

‘What is it that you want from me?’

And the Captain did not waste a second in his response.

‘See me in my quarters, darling.’

-Chapter 3-

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drunknillawafer · 8 days

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right down the line: zuko x firebender!reader | part 7

You grew up close to the Royal Family due to your father's position as a General, but you ran away from home after the agni kai against your best friend, Zuko. Now, you've joined the Gaang and plan on doing your part in ending the 100-year war.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6

hi part 7... picking up right where we left off... i think I'm going to post a masterlist & keep it linked on my pinned to make it easier to sift through and find, esp since i do plan on posting other fics once i finished my very first >.< also i want to post the songs i listen to while I'm writing and some visuals hehe... just to make it much more immersive. again i do not own these characters and they are not mine! (except my mc i guess) like comment reblog if ya like... enjoy! about 1785 words

⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙

We’re standing on a sand-colored platform of a structure currently being renovated or changed to fit Fire Nation standards. The usual for when they occupy lands that don’t belong to them. Aangs in front of me, with Sokka to my left and Katara to my right. We form a triangle and I'm thankful for the partial covering.

I’m thinking of the best way to summarize the threats ahead of us, just in case they try to change the plan. There’s a good chance this will go south.

“Mai, in the center, has good aim with her blades, but it’s Ty Lee, on the left, you should keep an eye out for.” I try to give my friends the run-down on my, I guess, old friends one would say. But we’ve only got so much time before all three of them realize that I’m here.

They lower King Bumi from the top of the building using a metal crane. They’ve got him in a coffin-shaped cage with only his head showing.

“You brought my brother?” Mai speaks first, breaking the silence between the two groups. She squints at the sight of me, but I’m too far away for her to be sure it’s me.

“He’s here.” Aang solemnly replies. “We’re ready to trade.” In these moments, he’s got the grace of a 112-year-old.

Suddenly, Azula speaks to Mai in a hushed tone we can’t quite hear. Fine is never fine with Azula, nothing is ever the way it should be with her. There’s bound to be some trick up her sleeve that only feeds into her misery.

“I’ll help with the girl on the right, she’s the most vicious,” I warn them. I briefly make eye contact with Sokka. We haven’t talked about what was said and now wasn’t the time, but I couldn’t help but yearn for his gentleness. A reminder that I wasn’t like the enemies in front of us, but someone new. Someone he couldn’t hate.

Then, Mai steps forward. “The deal’s off.” With a lift of her gloved hand, King Bumi is raised once again by the crane.

“Bumi!” Aang cries out for his old friend and starts heading towards him, defying the laws of gravity bestowed upon the rest of us. It’s enchanting to see an air-bender. It’s so different from the rest of the elements. He looks like he’s flying.

As he does so, Azula strikes, and I see her blue flame for the first time. She must’ve perfected her oxygen levels for complete combustion; but if she’s the Azula I’ve always known, I know how to beat her. This time, I won’t go easy. I won’t make that same mistake again for nostalgia.

Aang’s head covering flies away as the air moves around him and his arrow is exposed.

I look down at Azula’s reaction and she’s close enough now to hear.

“The Avatar. My lucky day.” The princess smirks, re-organizing her plans for Omashu in her head.

“Remember, don’t let Ty Lee touch you!” I warn Sokka and Katara and dash toward Azula, offering Aang some support against the crazed fire-bender.

I follow her upward, burning the knot on the pulley to cause the rope to lift.

Azula can see me through the grids as the ropes pull us to the top of the building, and I can see her in real-time realize who I am.

“Well, if it isn’t the Royal traitor. Seems like you and Zuzu still share a brain.” She gloats.

“Leave the Avatar alone, Azula. I mean it!” We break through the ceiling made from wood and reach the roof of the building under construction.

She attacks Aang with a blue blast, causing him to break the metal chain. Aang instantly heads downward with King Bumi. He cushions their fall with an air bubble, and they land on the well-known ramps of Omashu. Azula quickly follows them using a cart, and I’m on her tail. If only I had Sokka’s boomerang right now, it makes so much sense to carry one in these situations.

We catch up to Aang, giving Azula the chance to strike him and Bumi.

I distract her with my own fire-blasts, making sure to lean forward and crash into her cart.

“Out of practice?” She questions.

“Out of patience.” I growl, punctuating my sentence with a blast from my right hand.

As we continue our fight by speeding through the ramps, I see Appa in the distance. Relief washes over me as I conclude Sokka and Katara must have gotten away from Mai and Ty Lee.

Aang attempts to lift Bumi onto Appa’s saddle with his bending, but he miscalculates and Bumi’s off to land on the ground. But his friend won’t let him go on his own. Together, they land on another ramp and head down to ground-level.

Azula’s right behind them, and I’m right behind her.

She attempts another attack, but a rock blocks her offense and bursts her cart into dust. I leap off mine before the impact breaks my cart too and we both land on our feet, an homage to our identical upbringing.

She lets Aang go for a reason I can’t quite put my finger on until she turns around to face me. We're still standing on the ramps.

“The key to never losing is knowing when you’re beat.” She says with her hands in defense, signaling that she’s waving the white flag.

I’m still in fight mode. I’d never let my guard down around her, not now, not ever. “You’ll always be beat as long as I’m here.”

She pauses to truly grasp my presence. It’s been three years since we’ve seen each other, and everything’s changed. We used to be on the same team, never friends but bonded by our birthplace. It’s the first time we no longer owe each other pleasantries. Azula, however, uses sweetness as a weapon. “Where have you been, Y/N? You’re missed at the Royal Palace.”

“I doubt it.” Zuko and his mother haven’t touched that home in years, making it impossible for anyone there to actually miss me.

“Your father misses you.”

“I know you’re lying, Azula.”

“You’ve never trusted me; I’ve never liked you. Now we don’t have to pretend do we?”

“Leave us alone,” I get in my fight stance. “Got it?”

“Fine. Loud and clear.” She dashes away in her infamous run toward the unfinished building, probably to catch up with her friends.

Fine isn’t fine. It’s I’ll get you somehow. I think to myself.

I watch her figure fade into the distance, when it hits me: “Seems like you and Zuzu still share a brain.”

Did Zuko abandon his ship?

Is she lying? She would have no reason to lie about something like that, other than to get to me or Aang. I can’t pinpoint a motive. I still won’t believe her 100 percent, but I’ll keep it in my back pocket.

I slide down the ramp Aang took and find the both of them at the very end, standing on a platform in another unfinished building. Once I’m off and my two feet hit the floor, Bumi bends rock to lift his metal enclosure up the ramp in a fit of laughter.

We both watch him go. “Your friend is very… eccentric.” I tell Aang, as he’s standing with Momo on his shoulders.

“Yeah.” I turn to face him, something’s wrong. He’s disappointed.

“He’s not going to teach you earth-bending?” I assume.

“No, he has to stay here to protect Omashu. I guess I got to find another teacher.” Now, he looks like a twelve-year-old boy with the weight of the entire world on his shoulders. There’s no way he’s meant to do this alone. I’d rather be here helping him than with Zuko.

“We’ll find one in no-time.” I reassure him.

“Who were those three girls?” He changes the subject.

“They were old friends too. Azula is Zuko’s sister.”

“Wow.”

“I know.” I sit on the edge of the platform, waiting for our ride with my feet dangling. Aang sits next to me, and for now, we’re just two kids talking, staring at the beautiful Earth Kingdom in front of us.

“What was it like… to grow up with them?”

“It was easy with Zuko. Azula… not so much.” I wince.

Aang’s face contorts, as if he’s remembering a distant memory. “Was Zuko good? Yaknow, back then?”

A smile creeps up on my face. “He was.”

“Do you think he still could be?”

Aang and I stare at each other. We’re choosing to live in the moment before my answer. The moment in which the possibility of Zuko changing his mind, realizing his mistakes, and helping us stop his father exists.

“I don’t know.”

☆

The heat and the prickly bushes are upsetting him further with each and every single step. Looking for food when you’re used to someone cooking for you is daunting, Zuko realizes. How is he ever supposed to live like this? How did Y/N?

As he’s walking back to let Uncle know he couldn’t find anything edible, he touches the side of his hair. It’s grown back a bit since cutting it, slicing off his ties to the Fire Nation. Trading in the red for green, hoping to camouflage with the land and the Earth Kingdom people.

What a stupid idea, he thought. How could anyone ever confuse him with anyone else with the scar on his left eye?

But it seemed to be working so far. His sister hadn’t found them, and they haven’t been arrested for their crimes against every other nation.

In the humid morning, on his long walk back to where his uncle was staring at a tea leaf, he thought about the Northern Water Tribe.

He wondered if Y/N was okay from his strike. Maybe the water-bender girl could heal her, and she’d be okay again. He didn’t mean to. He’s been this hard and heavy with everyone else for the sole purpose of returning home, he forgot Y/N was his home. He’s been in fighting mode for so long, he’s forgotten to turn it off.

She wasn’t home, though. She was with the Avatar. Defending him and betraying her nation. How did she get there? He wondered. He had so many questions about everything. Zuko’s sure she had just as many questions for him.

Could he find her now that he was labeled a traitor?

Where his mind led made his empty stomach drop.

If he found her, he’d find the Avatar. Then, he could go home. But if Y/N was not there, would he still want to go back? Did his father’s acceptance matter above all else? It didn’t for Y/N, but she was always braver than him.

Zuko wasn’t ready for that thought, so he pushed it away.

It wasn’t hard to do when your stomach was louder than your thoughts.

------------------

tag list <3: @camilleverreault @staygoldsquatchling02

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bullet-prooflove · 5 months

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34. But home was a dream, one I'd never seen 'til you came along

Got say this is such a powerfull phrase that any character will do Donna, like the Med guys (Lanik, Abrams, Mitchell) or the Mayans or our men in Fire Country, whatever you feel like it

Also Jason Isbell's Cover me up is fave song <3 (I recognize several lines incluind this one) in fact Southeastern is a fav album

Sending love & hugs

I felt this just really suited Mitch esp with his history. I love the idea of him settling down and being happy.

It is such an interesting song, I feel it has real duality to it, the way he describes he was before the drink and after. I just love the emotion in it.

Mitch has never had a home, not until he met you.

He tells you that one night when the two of you are tangled up in one another. It’s three in the morning and he’s staring into your eyes in the aftermath of your love making. You are the only person in the world who makes him feel happy, who makes him feel safe.

His life has always been fraught with instability. His childhood was a mish mash of foster parents and mental hospitals because his mom was either too drunk or too high to take care of him. He’s managed to make something of himself despite those odds, found a way to help other people. Despite the fact he’s moved, the fact he’s healthy he’s never been able to settle.

It’s the reason all of his relationships have been casual, the reason he’s never gone all in. Doing that means revealing a part of yourself and he could never bare to discuss his history.

And then he met you and everything, it just came pouring out and that was before the two of you had crossed the line, before he admitted he’s fallen in love with you.

“You say you’ve never had a home.” You whisper as your fingertips trace over his cheek. “So let’s make one together, a place that’s just for us.”

When Mitch sees the house on Ebron Street during one of his runs, he knows it’s the one. It’s a small, fixer upper in a nice neighbourhood, there’s a porch and a small yard.

“It’s got good bones.” He says when the agent gives you the tour. “I could do a lot of the renovation work myself.”

One of his foster parents used to be a contractor, he’d take Mitch on jobs, put him to work. He’s the only one through Mitch’s life that he’d maintained contact with after he aged out the system. He’d given him a job to supplement his income while he was studying in college. He still helps out occasionally on the weekends.

The look in his eyes when Mitch talks about his plans for this place…

You know he’s found his home.

The two of you put in an offer in the next day.

You’ve never seen him as happy as when you get the news it’s yours. Mitch pours his heart and soul into renovating that house, you help the best you can. He enjoys teaching you a few tricks of the trade, working with you to create a safe space that’s full of laughter, happiness and love.

“I never thought I’d have this.” He says during your first night in the house. The two of you are laying in bed together, his thumb ghosting over the apple of your cheek as he looks into your eyes. “I never thought I’d find a home.”

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mayullla · 2 years

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Title: A new house, a new home.

Character(s): Haunted house ghost (original work / unnamed character)

Summary: You wanted to be alone away from your problems, buying an old rustic house you thought that in a sense this could be a new beginning. You didn't listen to the warning signals, you didn't release the house had a life of its own.

Warnings/tags: General yandere themes, fem!reader, near-death experience for reader (accidental), horror elements

You were not sure how it happened... but really was already to late by the time you realized.

All you wanted was time for yourself, time away from family and friends, alone and far away from the troubles and pains that plagued you. You found a home far away, old almost antique and dreary. But it was cheap, the reason why you choose to sign the papers as quickly as possible without thinking why it was so cheap thinking that you were nothing but lucky.

It had flaws sure, when you looked at it, many things were in need of repair or just replaced but you knew that you could work with it and bring the house while not new but in a better state than it once was.

So you did. You bought the house that the past owner was suspicious all too delighted to be gone from his hands. You didn't seem to care much, maybe you thought that he was just an eccentric old man and walked into your new home that needed so much renovating.

You were ready.

Ready for a new life, and a new start. That was all you wish after all… but not like this.

It was normal at first sure you thought that you heard some weird sounds occasionally, sounds of something climbing within the walls, or the doors closing by themselves or knocking on the floor. But you thought that was just some random rat or small animal crawling into the hollow grasp of the walls or the wind shutting the door.

You wanted to change the color of the walls, the wallpaper already yellowed from old age had to go. You bought a few paints and wallpaper expecting that you had enough, but it seems that you didn't have enough pain not having expected to paint the walls three times instead of two coats.

You thought you needed to go to the shop again tomorrow finding it too late to go back now.

When you saw paint cans on right by the door the next day, a little old and dusty it did freak you out a bit as you looked around. You were definitely sure you didn't buy this, you looked around the garden but nobody was there maybe this paint was already in the house but the person had forgotten to give them last time and brought them here.

You ignored the nagging feeling and stapping on your gloves and wearing a mask you started to remove the old wallpaper on the wall planning on starting the wallpaper process.

Sometimes you swore that the house moved as if the walls were breathing… Maybe it was your eyes playing tricks on you, you weren't sure maybe you hallucinating.

Sometimes you felt the room suddenly grow cold sometimes you felt cold wind pass you even when you were inside your room and no windows were opened.

Sometimes it feels like it was going through you, sometimes it grabbed you out of nowhere, it felt like ice grabbed you that often you would yelp in surprise. But as soon as you acknowledge it the cold would disappear as if it was never there to begin with.

You walked out to your porch when the delivery man arrived with your new utensil and kitchen wear that you ordered on the internet. Thanking the man you went back home, you didn't close the door properly having your hands full you were really able to with your foot only but when the door close unexpectedly, you just smiled thinking that you were able to close the door by yourself.

Taking a cutter you cut the tape to open the box, seeing the utensils you headed to the sink to wash them up. Take the knives and spatulas and such out from the box as you washed them. It was after that when you were drying them when you started to wipe the cooking knives you wondered where you put that knife holder that came in a separate mail a few days ago.

Looking around you finally found the knife holder on the top shelf, where you placed it there due to too many things littered on your table at that time. You smiled as you reached to grab it, you were just barely tall enough to reach the holder from the shelf as you dragged it towards you, you might have been a bit excited or in hurry, and not really careful when it tilted and flopped to the side.

Your eyes widen when you saw a knife, a knife that you brought with you from your old home fall off the knife holder, clattering on the shelf, and then falling towards you. You watched as the blade looked straight at you, towards your face.��

You should have moved, yet you weren't able to so frozen in place as fear and panic started to choke you.

Time moved too slowly, yet you were able to do anything all but squeeze your eyes shut, waiting for it to stab you most likely in your face. You waited to feel pain spread on your face and however...

Instead of pain, instead of a sharp pain a loud metal crashing sound made you flinch. You hesitantly opened your eyes to see the knife nowhere near you and when you hesitantly looked to your side where the sound came from far away near the fridge was that same knife. Far away as if it was swatted away before it could hit your face and it instead hit the wall right beside the fridge. Unable to stand straight, you slowly fall to the floor taking deep breaths.

Unable to comprehend what happened, only to shiver when something cold touched your face but soon gone almost immediately. Something was here and you can only hope that everything was a dream.

Your eyes shone when you saw your house coming together over the past month or two, cleaning to the wallpaper and flooring, replacing the furniture that can't be fixed, and more decorations to make the place more homely.

There were moments when you found the house creepy but you thought that it was just your mind playing tricks on you. You were happy to call this place home.... maybe...

You don't know when it started probably a little after the knife incident when your blanket became heavier as if trapping you. It may have been comforting at one point but now it was now too heavy and too suffocating as if it wanted to hold you down unable to move, unable to leave.

It wasn't only that either, you wondered why the doors were heavier as if rusty when you already swapped them for band new hinges, how sometimes it was impossible to open the window as if they were locked when they weren't. How it takes longer to get from one room to another as if they were stretched yet you couldn't see the illusion..

It was strange how you could see food in the fridge when you thought that you have already eaten your leftovers and prepared to head out of the market to buy some groceries or how the mailman never rang the doorbell anymore as you would only see your mail later on the side of your door, or maybe he does…

Yet when you opened the door he wasn't there and your package on the floor right in front of you. It was weird yet you didn't know what to do, your mind was frazzled and confused if not a bit suspicious but you didn't have any proof when you took another glance… nothing was out of place.

How the clothes that used to fit you comfortably, started to tighten as if holding you. How you felt someone's hand touching you when you watched tv. How you felt something was hugging you even tho you were alone. How you started to hear louder creeks in the house or voices too static to understand. You never felt you were ever alone that someone was watching you, that they were in the same room as you.

You couldn't see them, yet you felt their eyes were everywhere. All trained on you.

It was too sudden really when everything suddenly moved when you least expected it, the click of the door locking you from the outside. How each room’s window that you let the windows open for air circulation was suddenly shut all at once with a loud bang and locked.

You tied to pry them open, force them open to get out, but nothing budged, not even the chair that you tried to carry or the vase that you wanted to carry as toss to the window would move almost as if anything that was meant to harm the house your so painstakingly repaired was not allowed to happen. As if it would not give you a way to escape this place.

And for the first time, you felt cold arms wrap around you, unlike the last that would disappear soon after these cold hands stayed.

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vixensofsorrow · 5 months

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Demolition Lovers - Ⅴ the moon follows me home

DISCLAIMER: This fic is a long slowburn with multiple chapters, still being updated. also on AO3 my masterlist (all the chapters are linked there) PAIRING: young!Carol Denning/fem!reader OVERALL SUMMARY: An exploration of your and Carol's relationship through the years. CHAPTER SUMMARY: Law mandated Halloween chapter (or in this case summerween). Carol gets to spend more time with your friends. CHAPTER TAGS: fluff, jealousy, Halloween, very coming of age methinks, slight angst (?) A/N: I AM SO SORRY THAT IT TOOK ME THIS LONG TO UPDATE BUT THIS FIC BURNED ME OUT BADD. tysm to my friend for beta reading it. also this is more of a filler chapter but there can't be action all the time!!!

Carol came to school for the first time in three days, and you decided that you should officially introduce her to your friends, at least the ones you share lunch with — the only time for proper socialization during school hours.

You were concerned about her. The bruises haven’t left your mind since you had that one look at them; but at the same time, you decided that it was best not to pry. She would tell you about them when she was ready.

The cafeteria lady carelessly served your portion of the mashed potatoes, and you exchanged a look of disgust with Denning as the line kept moving. You paid for the food, and Kristen waved as she saw you both approaching. The blonde greeted Carol, who took a seat next to you.

“Hey, Kristen.” She gave a sheepish smile, capturing the attention of your friends.

Nobody spoke. You cleared your throat, breaking the awkward silence. “Carol, this is Gina Hardy and Rachel Sullivan, Gina and Rachel, this is Carol Denning.”

“I probably should’ve introduced myself at the party, but nice to finally meet you.” Sullivan grinned slightly, opening a can of Coke, meanwhile Gina nodded.

“Yeah, same here.” Denning muttered as she turned her head. She swiftly turned it back around, groaning, and furrowed her eyebrows so low that you could see them clearly behind her huge glasses. “Fuckin’ hell, I can’t even catch a break from her at lunch.” She whispered to herself as Kristen pulled out an orange flyer from her backpack. You had seen it earlier being handed out by Nancy — one of the Valley Girls.

“Are any of you coming?” She laid it on the table; but before you could take a better look, Hardy immediately snatched the paper, crumbling it up. Carol let out a giggle at the look on Kristen’s face, and you and Rachel couldn’t help but follow.

“What’d you do that for!?” Kristen raised her hands in annoyance.

“Wolfe, it’s Nancy’s party.” She leveled the blonde with a stern glare before walking off to throw away the flyer. Everyone sat in stunned silence.

Gina sat back down, and Kristen stammered, trying to apologize.

“It’s fine, really. I do have an idea, though.” The defensive midfielder smirked, and you raised an eyebrow at Denning. “We can just hang out at my place! You haven’t even seen the renovated basement yet! I have a sick TV set-up down there, and if we get bored we could go trick or treating. Or just… scare the kids, y’know, or whatever else we want. Oh, by the way, this includes you too, Carol.” She chewed on a chocolate bar.

Carol flashed her dimples, looking grateful. She gave Gina a quiet “Thanks.”

You’ve been sitting on the curb in front of your house dressed as Laurie Strode, looking like a lonely loser while you waited for Rachel; watching kids joyfully running down the block, everything lit up by Halloween decorations.

The sight of so many people outside simultaneously was strange — it was truly a once in a blue moon occurrence. Many different groups of middle schoolers came up to you demanding candy, most likely thinking that your parents forced you to be the keeper of sweet treats this year; but every time you disappointed them by saying that they needed to use their scrawny legs and walk over to the house behind you, that to them, seemed like miles away. The more confident kids asked about your costume, and to your surprise, some even knew who you dressed up as.

Your head shot up to the sudden sound of tires screeching, music blaring, and honking in the distance. People scattered to the sidewalk as the red, janky car approached closer.

You got up, your knees producing a crack not unlike a grandma’s knees would, and waved at the vehicle.

Finally, Rachel pulled up to the sidewalk. You sat in the back and rubbed your hands together for warmth. Veronica was squeezed in the middle, separating you from Carol, who was in a Michael Myers outfit. The two of you decided on wearing matching costumes for Halloween, just like when you were kids. In the passenger seat, there was Erica Cervantes — Sullivan’s closest friend; a very skilled and highly ambitious player on your soccer team.

You firmly shut the car door as Rachel drove off towards the dimly lit street leading to Gina’s house.

“Hey, Blondie or The Clash?” Erica turned her head to the girls in the back, holding up two tapes. You looked over to Vee and Carol, attempting to read their expressions, trying to tell which one they wanted to pick. The latter caught you staring and smiled while adjusting her glasses, and you couldn’t help but return the gesture with a shy grin of your own.

“Come on, obviously The Clash! Speaking of — Rachel, you oughta give me that tape back someday, I swear.” Veronica complained, but as soon as Erica inserted the cassette, she began to sing along loudly, while tapping her fingers to the beat on the car door.

Carol chuckled, rolled the window down, and lit up a cigarette. The fresh, cold wind mixed with tobacco smoke hit you in the face and you exhaled, admiring her reflection on your side of the glass. You had a feeling that tonight would be a lot of fun — certainly better than that disaster party at Nicole’s.

Denning passed the cigarette around. To your delighted surprise, she joined in on the singing, although softly. It was good to see her in a better mood after the last couple of days, especially after she confided in you about her feelings of alienation and isolation. You hoped that given enough time, she would begin to feel comfortable with the group. You couldn’t help but think that slightly pleased expression suited her.

Your train of thought came to a sudden end as you reached the Hardy residence — a wide, split-level house only separated from the car lane by a patchy front lawn.

As you were waiting for someone to answer the door, Carol stuffed some candies from the plastic pumpkin bowl left out on the porch in her pockets. The sound of Gina’s hurried steps approached closer, along with shouts directed at her mother. She finally let you all inside with a big, welcoming grin plastered all over her face, and led the way toward the basement with a spring in her step.

The first thing that caught your attention were the Christmas lights hanging from the ceiling — the only source of light. Gina wasn’t lying — she had a huge TV, probably 22 inches, placed in the center of a huge, old, wooden cabinet. Next to it was a shelf containing a massive collection of movies, ranging from B-class horror to Oscar-winning dramas. In the cabinet below the TV was a VHS player, covered in stickers with designs based on a bunch of underground punk bands that a maximum of five people had ever heard of. On the very bottom, on opposite ends from each other, there stood two huge speakers. The rest was cluttered with various books, vinyls, jewelry cases (that most likely were used for other purposes), and other paraphernalia.

In front of the cabinet stood a worn down, brown, leather couch upon which sat Kris; her legs stretched out on a very cluttered coffee table. Piles of pillows had been placed on the layered, Persian rugs. The cigarette smoke-stained yellow walls have been covered in a bunch of posters. Candles had been put in every possible nook along with other cheap decorations, but with the amount of boxes scattered around the place, it seemed like Gina still wasn’t done with the renovations.

Cervantes took a seat on the couch while you and Carol sat on a pillow pile and leaned against it.

“So, thoughts?” The hostess asked, leaning on the handrail. Everyone talked over each other, excitedly complimenting the space.

Kristen pulled out a vanity case and a few magazines from her bag, then laid out the makeup on the table.

“Who wants to go first?” Kris held up the magazines in front of her face. “I can do something scary… like the deadites from Evil Dead, or you know, something pretty like…” She flipped through the pages of a Glamour issue. “…This! This is cute, or I could do that one!”

Erica chuckled quietly, snatching one of the papers away from the blonde girl. She browsed through it, showing some pictures to Veronica, who just sat down next to you.

Gina exchanged a look with Carol that read something like ‘Hope you’re ready for the ride’ as she walked over to choose a selection of movies for the night.

“I’ll bite.” The goalkeeper sat down cross-legged in front of Kris.

“Rachel, you should try this one out.” Vee teased, pointing at an extravagant, high-fashion editorial look, and Erica laughed at the idea.

“Yeah, right.” She scoffed. “Mmm… I wanna be Carrie.”

“Carrie? Why, ‘cause she’s also a ginger?” You nudged her leg.

Carol drew her eyebrows together. “Dude, Carrie’s not even ginger.”

“Yeah, I don’t know where you got that from, Enge.” Rachel sneered, as Gina set tapes down on the table and went on to grab some beer. Kristen picked up her palette and applied light pink eyeshadow on Rachel’s eyelids.

“Oh, shut up, her hair’s ginger when she’s covered in blood.” You argued, checking out the cassettes as Veronica rested her head on your shoulder. You could feel a heavy, cold gaze relentlessly probing at your clavicle, but it immediately went away when you faced Carol.

The punk girl came back and handed out the bottles to everyone except for Rachel — your responsible chauffeur.

After a discussion that went on for way too long, you finally landed on a movie to watch — The Silent Scream, but after about 40 minutes, the film turned into background noise for multiple rounds of bridge; a game that Erica and Vee were masters at, and that Carol seemed to enjoy even though when you played against them, the two of you kept on losing. With time, you also lost interest in that, and noticing it was getting late, you were considering the prospect of going home — but ultimately decided the night was still young and full of opportunities.

Armed with a repurposed pillowcase that served as a candy bag, some toilet paper, a few eggs, and shaving cream you all squeezed into the car. Your collective weight would definitely grant Rachel a ticket for overloading the vehicle if she were caught, so you hurriedly headed towards the wealthy neighborhood.

All the bright, flashy lights and tacky decorations which adorned the rows of McMansions along with children and some of your peers yelling and running down the street collectively manifested in your head as an ache that made it hard to think. Your friends, walking in front of you, were deciding on whose home to vandalize, meanwhile, in the back, you and Carol were reminiscing on the times when you would walk down the same streets, trick or treating.

The memories quickly turned bitter, as the realization of all the time you lost hit you like a truck. Sure, you eventually made new friends, good friends that you enjoyed hanging out with, but it was nothing compared to the bond between Denning and you. In the midst of your brooding, an orotund, female voice brought you down to earth.

“Hey, Y/N? What do you think about Tonya?” Erica questioned, to the discontent of Carol, who put a big Jawbreaker candy in her mouth.

Well, that caught you off guard — Tonya was the newest girl on the team, who quite frankly you weren't fond of. You felt that she wasn’t putting in enough work, and her attitude pissed you off too, but you never brought it up.

“Uh, why’d you ask?” You furrowed your brows.

“I just wanna know. Be honest.”

“I mean, we definitely have better players on the team.” You made eye contact with Denning, whose eyes narrowed in suspicion.

“Right, right.” The other midfielder crossed her arms, as she bit her lip and focused her gaze on you. The three of you walked in awkward silence, and you could tell that she wanted a more definitive answer.

“Fine, okay. I don’t like her.” You threw your arms in the air, and she gave you a quick smile of satisfaction, breaking the tension.

“Girl, me neither. Anyway, thanks.” She said, catching up to speed with the rest of the group, without further explanation.

“The hell was that about?” Denning asked, her speech distorted by the candy she swished around in her mouth, and adjusted the Michael Myers mask to the left side of her face.

“I’m not even sure? Something about whether I like this one girl on the team or not.” You put your hands inside the pockets of your jeans.

“I mean, I fuckin’ heard that, but I’m just confused as to why, y’know.”

“Yeah so am I, Care—, uh, Carol.”

Suddenly, the girls stopped in their tracks and turned to you, describing their mischievous plan — trashing the house of Gina’s ex.

Rachel handed out the necessary items to each person. You stashed yours and Carol’s inside the shabby pillowcase and dashed after Hardy as the sweets Denning stole from her house fell out of her jacket.

You hid in the bushes of the plastic, way too perfectly mowed lawn, trying your hardest not to burst out laughing, and waited for the “go” sign as Cervantes kept watch. After a while, Kristen and Veronica rapidly nodded their heads and chaos ensued; toilet paper flew everywhere, draping off the orange and brown trees, white beams, windows, the balcony, the freshly built gazebo, and the roof. You dodged the eggs that gracefully cracked when they hit the walls and bumped into Carol, whose face turned tomato red from trying to hold back the laughter. She gave you the two other cans of shaving foam and grabbed your sweaty hand, rushing closer toward the house. You smeared the cream all over the kitchen windows as Vee and Gina threw around even more paper. You could hear a commotion starting inside and knew the residents noticed what you were doing. Right as she was flinging the last egg, Rachel gesticulated aggressively that it was time to dip.

You all made a run for it, cackling like maniacs and talking over each other, leaving the beautiful, messy scene of the crime.

Unfortunately, the Halloween shenanigans had to eventually end, since everyone had school tomorrow. All the fun you had left was scaring some kids while on your way to Sullivan’s car. You chased each other with a prop knife, letting out the most convincing terrified screams you were capable of while running down the block until your legs couldn’t handle it anymore.

“I thought my stamina was better than this.” Veronica panted, resting her hands on her thighs, while she stopped to take a breath.

You chuckled. “In that case, you need to up your game before the championships, Vasquez!” You imitated your coach, half joking, half serious.

You didn’t exactly know why you were putting so much pressure on yourself — and your teammates this year. What if, unconsciously, you were trying to impress Carol? No, no way. You acted like this, way before she moved in.

“God, don’t even.” She rolled her eyes, slightly leaning against you. You started to pick up the pace again. “Oh, by the way, did Eri…” Vee began to talk about something, but your mind drowned her out as your attention suddenly tunnel-visioned to a strangely giddy Carol, conversing with a guy, a few of his friends trailing in the background, all of whom you recognized from school.

No matter how much you wanted to, you couldn’t stop looking at them — the two of them. Your narrowed eyes filled up with tears from the lack of blinking, and you could've sworn that you forgot how to breathe. Denning turned her head and stared at you like a statue at an exhibition. Her smirk burned through you, amplifying your emotions even more after she focused back on him.

You hadn’t even noticed when she grabbed your shoulder, slightly shaking it to get your attention. “Hey, Y/N. I’ll see you tomorrow.” Carol gesticulated, pointing at the three teens that were waiting for her.

You blinked rapidly, as her words rattled you back to reality. “What? Hold on, what are you talking ‘bout? What?”

“I’m just gonna hang out with Travis and his friends. I’ll see you.” She waved to your group, taking her leave.

“Right… Yeah, have fun.” You lied through the teeth that gritted so hard, you could almost feel the enamel peeling off. The jealousy inside stirred even more than before, as the two of you observed one another while walking off in opposite directions.

#oitnb #orange is the new black #carol denning #fanfiction #lesbian #carol denning fanfic #fanfic #carol denning x reader #ao3 fanfic #lesbian fanfiction #carol denning fanfiction #x reader #female reader

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redheadspark · 1 year

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Off You Go

Summary - You and Oliver send Poppy off to Hogwarts, ready to let her go on her own

A/N - This is part of my Oliver Wood x reader with their daughter Poppy Wood storyline that I might be starting up officially pretty soon!

Warnings - mostly fluff!

“Alright, darlin’. Here we are,”

“Woah….Is this it, Da?”

“You bet, Pops,”

You were watching with a grin as your husband and daughter, who was sporting her school robes, peered at the Hogwarts Express together whilst holding hands between them. This day was a day neither you nor Oliver were ready for, and yet it finally came at last. The weather was perfect, you left your home earlier than you thought you would in case you were going to hit traffic, and now you had mere minutes before sending off your child to Hogwarts.

This day was huge in the Wood household.

Ever since Poppy Angelina Wood got her Acceptance Letter from Hogwarts, she was over the moon excited. There was no slowing down her mind when it came to what she imagined it would be like at Hogwarts, who she was going to meet, and what she’d learn. The possibilities were endless with your daughter, and she asked you and Oliver plenty of questions about what it was like for you two when you were students.

“Was Gryffindor the best house?”

“When can I play quidditch like you did, da?”

“Was Herbology hard to learn, mum?”

Both yourself and Oliver indulged her and answered every question she brought you two, never holding back as she was letting her mind expand with imaginations and dreams. Her older cousins told her plenty of tips and tricks too, promising you that they’d look out for her as she navigated her first year. Although that made you both feel a bit better, you were still a bit nervous about sending your only child off to school.

This time it was different for Poppy, she had no real threats against her compared to how it was for you and Oliver. Ever since the end of the Second Wizarding War, new protections and protocols were placed on the newly renovated Hogwarts, and there hasn’t been any accident or occurrences since then.

Hogwarts was safe again, insanely safe thanks to the new Aurors at the Ministry of Magic which included both Harry Potter and Ron Weasley. Another old Schoolmate and fellow Gryffindor, Neville Longbottom, wrote to you and Oliver with reassurance and comfort in telling you both he’ll look out for Poppy while he wasn’t teaching Herbology.

Still, no matter how many people were telling you Poppy was going to be fine and in good hands, you and Oliver still had some fears and some worries. Worries that she would hate it, worry that she wouldn’t get the proper footing on her own.

In the end, she had to go out on her own.

“The Hogwarts Express!” Poppy said in glee as she tugged on her father’s hand, looking at the massive red train that was ready to take off in a few minute's time. You were remembering back when you were a first year, the same height and size as your daughter, and looking at the massive train in wonder and excitement. You grinned, shifting in front of the trolley you were pushing with her trunk and a few parcels that she was taking with her from home to make the homesickness more tolerable.

Lastly, there was a small cage on the top of the trunk with an orange tabby cat inside, sleeping away and not caring what was going on around her. The cat, affectionally named Clover, was the house cat that was going to be Poppy’s cat at school, which was perfect since Poppy and Clover had been attached at the hip since Poppy was a toddler.

Other students and parents were bustling around the three of you, loading their possessions and saying their last goodbyes as the Hogwarts Express workers were busy packing the train with ease.

“Now, remember, when you get to the Hogsmeade Station, you’re goin’ to meet—“ Oliver started with Poppy, but she looked at him and spoke.

“Hagrid, I know Da,” she replied, you eyeing her and then Oliver, seeing the nervousness in his eyes as he knelt down in front of her. You walked over too, listening in on the conversation with your husband and daughter.

“And then you’ll be Sorted,” Oliver reminded her, placing a reassuring hand on his shoulder to give him some ease, “Do ya remember what me and your mum told ya about the Houses?”

“It doesn’t matter what house I’m in, as long as I do my best wherever I go,” Poppy recited clearly, the train then whistling as the first warning that it was time to hop on the train. She looked a bit nervous then, her confidence was still a bit evident but the small sense of fear was now on her freckled face and in her bright eyes, “Da….Mum…I’m scared,”

That made your heart tender for a moment as you knelt down to be next to Oliver, giving your daughter a warm smile as you spoke, “And remember what we talked about? Being scared is normal. Poppy, this is the first step of a big adventure you’re going on, and you’re not alone, right? There are others who are scared too, because you don’t know what will happen, right?”

She nodded rapidly, her fingers were fidgeting in front of the school robes she was wearing. You and Oliver spoke to her the night before, hearing her worries and fears as if she wasn’t going to make friends if she was going to be lonely. You had those fears too as a child, and now that you were the parent, it was your turn to be the comforter and the one bringing peace.

“But that’s the best part, my little Pops,” Oliver explained to her, Poppy watching him with the same eyes she inherited from you and the freckles she got from him dancing on her nose and cheeks, “All ya can do is take it day by day, moment by moment, and know that you’re going to have the best time, at the best school.”

“Really?” She asked with hope in her tone.

“Absolutely! Your mum and I had the time of our lives all those seven years, both in the good times and bad. You’re strong, Poppy. Strong and as tough as they come, You’re a Wood after all,” he explained, Poppy giggling as Oliver held out his arms to her. Poppy hopped into his embrace, Oliver holding her close and almost breathing her in one last time as you petted her brown braid with your fingers. As hard as it was for you to be parted from your daughter, it was going to be harder for Oliver.

Oliver and Poppy were a tag team from the moment Poppy was born. Oliver loved being a father, it was one of the best roles he ever had in his life and he would take being a father over being a quidditch player anytime in his life. You knew it was a sacrifice for him when you told him you were pregnant, not to mention being pregnant during one of the harshest and scariest times in Magical history with Voldemort taking over the Magical World.

Poppy was a gift, the purest gift that Oliver never took for granted. He called off practices and matches to tend to Poppy when she was sick or when you needed help with her. He took her to professional matches when she was a toddler, rode with her while she was a baby in a harness, and even showed her off to his teammates and old schoolmates. He treasured her more than anything, and now he was letting his own treasure go on her own for the first time.

“I love ya to the moon and back, Poppy,” he said into her hair, his hold on her tightened slightly, "I’ll miss ya terribly without my partner in crime,”

“I love you too, Da!” She mumbled into his shirt, then pulled away and grinned at him, “I’ll miss you a lot.”

Oliver grinned, you nothing some tears in his eyes as Poppy moved over to hug you tightly. You hummed in happiness, keeping your daughter close as workers on the Hogwarts Express took her trolley away with her possessions, another single that it was almost time to board.

“I’m so proud of you my little Pops,” You said to her as you peppered her face with kisses to make her laugh. She giggled, Oliver was then chuckling wetly as you pulled away and framed her face in your fingers and palms, “We’ll see you again when you come back for the Christmas Holidays, okay? Remember to study hard, and to play just as hard. Also, make sure you write home at least once a month and tell us everything you’re up to,”

“Twice a month!” Oliver interjected, both you and Poppy looked at him in shock as he grinned with some tears on his cheek and a shrug on his shoulders.

“Da!” Poppy whined as you rolled your eyes and had Poppy face you again.

“At least once a month…for your Da’s sake,” You joked with him as Poppy giggled, “But most of all, you stay true to yourself and not lose sight of who you are. You’re smart, kind, and brave, Poppy Angelina Wood, and I am already proud of you, okay?”

“Okay,” Poppy replied with a softer smile, hugging you one more time as you kissed her forehead,” I love you, Mum.”

“Love you too, my darling girl,” You replied. The Hogwarts Express’s whistle sounded off a second time, which was the last warning before the train was off. You immediately moved up, letting Poppy go as one of the Head Boys from Hufflepuff saw Poppy, gesturing her to hop on the train. With one final wave to you and Oliver, Poppy walked a bit faster now with her hesitance gone, going to one of the doors that was open and looking back at you both. Other parents were waving goodbye, some were already stepping back through the brick wall with ease, and the rest were saying their final farewells as students were waving from the window of the train.

Though you and Oliver were focusing on Poppy, seeing her wave one more time and then going in through the door. Oliver hummed, taking your hand in his own and watching with his wide eyes as Poppy’s head poked out from an open window.

“BYE MUM! BYE DA! LOVE YOU!” She bellowed, you laughing as you waved. With Oliver waving too, the Train was blowing steam and bellowed one last time, the last of the doors were closing and the rest of the students were already inside. With one long lurch, the train was moving, and the massive wheels turned with ease as the train was now on its way out of the station. Your eyes were still on Poppy, seeing her keep her head out for a longer moment before she reluctantly went back inside the train.

She was off, and the train soon departed the station and was out of sight within moments.

Poppy was gone.

As the rest of the parents and patrons started to shuffle away and back through the wall, you looked over at Oliver and sighed, seeing him wipe away his tears and take in a long breath of almost exhaustion and sadness.

“The Great Oliver Wood,” you teased, Oliver wetly chuckled as you cupped his jaw in your fingers,” Your daughter will be fine at Hogwarts, remember?”

“I know,” He hummed in a hiccup,” I didn’t think this day would come but….she’ll be fine, right?”

“Of course she will,” You reassured him, “She’s a Wood, she’ll know how to handle herself. She’s learned from her Da,”

Oliver grinned, wrapping his arm around your shoulder as you two were almost the last two parents still on the platform. The small comfortable silence between the pair was calming, therapeutic in a way since you two were now alone again in your household, at least for a few months when she came back for the Christmas Holiday. Oliver then perked up a bit, a small smile on his face as he spoke.

“We can always owl McGonagall and—“ he stared, but you smacked his chest and gave him a scowling look.

“Oliver Wood, you will do no such thing! Poppy is going to be fine, and I highly doubt our old Head of House and Professor will give us kudos point for our daughter,” You scolded him as you both walked over to the Brick wall, Oliver huffing and rolling his eyes.

“But now she’s the new Headmistress!” Oliver tried to argue with you.

“And as such our child will get no special treatment from McGonagall! Neville’s already looking out for her, and if Poppy finds out about the Headmistress, she’ll never forgive you, are we clear?” You warned him, seeing him sigh in defeat as he gave you a soft smile, laving your fingers together.

“Fine.” He replied, you kissing his cheek as you both walked through the brick wall.

The End.

Tagging - @a-lumos-in-the-nox

#oliver wood x reader #oliverwoodand poppywood #oliver wood x y/n #oliver wood x you #oliver wood #oliver wood fanfiction #writing #fanfiction #hp #hp fandom #harry potter #fanficiton #oliver wood imagine

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sweatervest-obsessed · 1 year

Text

Kiss in the Kitchen, Like it's a Dance Floor

Pairing: Steve Harrington x gn!reader

WC: 1.7k (exactly, which is wild)

TW: Teasing, kissing, pg-13 make out, sexual innuendos, mentions of sex and orgasms, this is literally just the foreplay before kitchen sex without the actual must part, mentions of previous trauma, mention of blood, kitchen weaponry,

A/N: I just wanted to write some fluff, also Eddie survived because he is a plot device, no matter how small, and I need him to be alive for this. I really tried to keep it as ambiguous descriptions of the reader as possible, if something needs to be edited, lemme know and I'll 100% change it since I really want this to be actually gender neutral!

You loved to cook. It was one of your favorite things on the planet. You were one of those people that just tossed things into a bowl, and managed to make a perfect four course meal, including dessert. Which is why you adored your kitchen so much. Steve had let you take the head on designing the kitchen, since you were going to be in there more than him. Steve could cook, in fact, when Steve cooked, it was quite the welcome surprise for you. He had to learn since no one was home to make him dinner, or even teach him. To Steve, cooking was not enjoyable, it was survival only. But for you? It was an art form, it was a way of showing your love.

You and Steve had gotten lucky–as lucky as two people who survived the apocalypse, lost the tail end of their childhoods, fought monsters beyond their wildest nightmares, and have the scars and trauma to prove it all, can be. After the earth split, swallowing most of Hawkins whole, a lot of people fled the area, desperately trying to sell their homes. Once Vecna had been defeated, You and Steve took complete advantage of it, and bought a small ranch-like house about fifteen minutes outside of Hawkins. It was only one story, but it came with over three acres of land. You were able to get it even cheaper, saying that you would be doing all of the renovations yourself, saving the previous owners a lot of money in the process.

Truly, it was the definition of a fixer upper, barely inhabitable.

There was a lot of work that needed to be done, so when Steve was away at work, you would fix the hinges on doors, figure out the electrical wiring for the plugs in the kitchen, reupholster furniture. And while you were away at classes, or at work, Steve would build your bed, or paint the walls, or have Eddie or Jonathan help him install new windows. But you both loved unpacking your things together, because it meant that the space was becoming your own. Slowly but surely, the house was coming together.

The kitchen was the second thing you two had finished, the bedroom being the first (obviously). The final touch were the cabinets. They were the absolutely perfect color, with a glass front to see the minimal dishes you and Steve actually owned, but they brought the room together perfectly. There were pictures of you both attached to the front of the fridge with magnets. There were a couple of small pots on the windowsill over the kitchen sink, holding a couple of herbs like basil and cilantro and mint. It was just perfect.

It was early in the morning, way earlier than you usually woke up, but you wanted to get a head start on breakfast, letting Steve wake up to some food before you both started painting the living room area today.

After the night you had last night, you felt like Steve deserved to be spoiled. Especially since he completely spoiled you last night. Repeatedly. Repeatedly.

As you slowly slipped out of bed, Steve groaned. His arms reached out to your side of the bed, confused as to why you weren’t there, but you quickly nudged your pillow into his arms. It seemed to do the trick as you slowly crept out of the room, your door closing with a soft click. As you walked towards the kitchen, you opened every single curtain, and every single window in the living room/dining room area, letting the cool, late summer, morning breeze sweep through the house, as you slowly padded into the kitchen.

The first thing you and Steve had purchased was a cassette player. It sat proudly on the kitchen bar, music playing all the time, whenever you were home. So naturally, at 6 am, you had it playing softly, while you quietly shuffled around, looking for the one skillet you did have.

Two weeks ago, you and Steve had a date night at the movies. Just like everyone else, you had gone to see Dirty Dancing, and you had found yourself obsessed with the soundtrack. After an intense bribing session involving a cake, a bottle of vodka, and three advanced promises of skipping a night class to go and watch Corroded Coffin at their shows, Eddie was willing/managed to set aside one of the copies for you. You had kissed him on the cheek making him turn bright red and Steve turn bright green. It was a miracle the tape wasn’t worn through since you haven’t stopped listening to it.

Love is Strange by Mickey and Slvia was softly playing in the background, and instead of singing it, aware of your sleeping boyfriend, you were only humming it.

You let out a little “aha!” when you found the skillet, crouching down and grabbing it from the cabinet. You both were still figuring out which things were going where, so it was a bit of a guessing game when it came to finding things in the kitchen. When you stood up, you twirled it in your hand, singing a little bit, adding in a dance. You gave it a little swing, hitting a home run across the room. As you twirled around, pan in air, your eyes went from playful to absolute terror. Steve was behind you. Luckily his reflexes were still working, despite the sleep coming off of him, because he ducked quickly while you let out a gasp.

The last thing Steve Harrington needed was another concussion.

“Oh my god Steve I’m so—“

“Didn’t know I was dating Babe Ruth.” He mumbled, joking, standing completely up again, yawning in the middle of his stance. His arms went over head as the sweats he was wearing sank a little bit lower on his hips. You should’ve eyed him up and down right then and there. You should’ve made a cheeky comment about the hickies you had left on his hips last night. But instead, you panicked.

“Are you okay?” You dropped the skillet on the counter, immediately placing your hands on his cheeks, tilting his head around, attempting to locate any sort of imperfection you just added to your boyfriend's skin. It was getting more and more difficult to breathe. All you could think about was how many people had hurt him, and now suddenly your name was lumped in with theirs.

“Babe.”

Your eyes were frantic, repeatedly scanning his face, his head, his hair.

“Baby—hey.” He took your hands from his face and brought them to his lips. “I would be knocked out on the floor if you managed to get me. I forgot how good of a swing you have….” His usual humor to calm you down going right over your head. He knew you heard him, but something wasn’t getting through.

Your eyes squeezed shut, trying not to let past memories fill your mind. Steve knocked out on the floor, bruised. His face bloodied. Blood from his stomach across Lover’s Lake. Neck red and irritated. Bandages turned a deep red. Vines tightening around his skin.

“Hey.” Steve kissed your hands again. “Where’d you go?”

Your eyes opened and scanned over his face, quickly dashing from his eyes towards his neck, and then at his stomach, but back to his eyes.

“Ah.” He whispered, placing your hands around his neck as he pulled you into a hug. He always managed to ground you, it felt like a sick joke sometimes. Steve being your person was one of the best things to happen to you, but watching him get beaten up over and over again was difficult. It took a toll on you too. Everytime, he would chance fate a little more than before, and some day the luck was going to run out, and you didn’t want to even entertain the idea of a next time.

Steve ran his hand along your back, smiling slightly at your choice of music, completely unsurprised. He had woken up as soon as the door clicked shut, not really understanding why you had been replaced by a pillow. Watching as you danced around the kitchen was a vision for him, and him only. So when you almost gave him another concussion, he felt kind of bad for sneaking up on you.

“Why are you awake?” You asked after a minute or two of silence, enjoying the comfort of one another, basking in the morning glow of the sun shining through the windows.

“You abandoned me.”

“I know, I’m sorry.” You mumbled into his chest. Feeling slightly better, you teased him a bit. “Could you ever forgive me?”

Steve pondered for a moment, twisting his face into faux consideration before smiling. “I think a good morning kiss would be an acceptable apology.”

“Okay Lover Boy,” You laughed softly, pressing your lips to his, enjoying the feeling. It was a tender kiss, filled with love. Steve deepened the kiss slightly, but you had other things in mind, like making breakfast for the both of you.

You bit his lip and tugged on it slightly before breaking off the kiss, not afraid to tease back. “I wanted to make you breakfast.” Providing the final piece of your explanation, moving to turn and grab the potential murder weapon off of the counter again.

But Steve wasn’t ready to let you move out of his arms quite yet. He groaned and pulled your back against his bare chest. Because Steve slept in a pair of sweatpants, and that was about it, he always made your morning views quite stunning–his freckles and moles were constellations across his skin, his summer tan bringing out more of them.

He swayed back and forth with you, kissing your neck. “What did I do to deserve you?” He whispered into your neck. “Only wearing my shirt and shit, making me breakfast.”

His hands slid downwards, thumbing with the edge of his crewneck, fingers brushing your bare skin.

“Steve….” You hummed.

“What baby.” He moved slowly, kissing your shoulders next, stretching out the neck of the crewneck you were wearing.

Your breath hitched as he slid one of his hands downward, toying with the edge of your underwear. His other hand slid up, warm fingers gliding over your chest, your brain getting more and more fuzzy by the second.

“I-I was—fuck Steve.” You mumbled, rolling your hips into his, craving more contact than he was giving. “I wanted to-to-to.” You let out a soft moan while Steve continues to tease you, love on you. “To cook and s-surprise y–”

“Oh sweetheart.” He kissed the tender spot on your neck, causing you to moan again, this time louder, breathier—needier. “You can cook for me later, I already know what I’m having for breakfast.”

#x reader #Steve Harrington smut #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n fluff #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington #steve harrington fic #x gn reader #x gn y/n

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fucklovepayme · 7 months

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FLPM Update 2023-2024

Hello guys!

A lot has happened since I last updated this blog. Let me start off by saying that manifestation is so fucking real, I don't care what anyone says. A lot of amazing things have happened to me this past year, and I am very grateful for it. My Saturn's Return (2020-2022) has been so damn rough to me, there was times that I gave up on life. I didn't care about my life or what happened to me. Thankfully that all changed in the beginning of 2023, I guess it is true when they say you have to go through your roughest time in life to receive your biggest blessings!

I manifested girlfriends that are chasing the bag too. I even became friends with some sex workers as well. It feels so good to hang out with true like-minded ladies, we get to freestyle together and hang out at more elevated events. And they are everything I manifested: young, pretty, supportive, and genuine. Unpopular opinion: I was getting tired of hanging out with slight pick mes, small-minded, and broke women. I want girlfriends who dgaf about these men, have an abundant mindset, and have money to do the nice things to come across the rich men we want.

I still dabble in sex work. I recently rejoined the infamous sugaring website (Starts with seek) and surprisingly it's not so bad this time around. Still have to scope out thousands of time wasters and the cheapies but I am meeting more POTs. I also joined some vanilla dating apps and set my settings to meet more established men. I've been out on some pretty nice dates with men that got coins and are not shy to spend it 🤑.

There's been some opportunities which I did some light escort activities 😅. I have a girlfriend that do threesomes with me for the right price. Sometimes we get approached at the bar or we pick out a guy that looks like a trick. If you would've told me that I would be doing threesomes for money (let alone free) 2 years ago, I would have laughed in your face. But now I don't give a damn and will proudly do it for the $$$$ and right man. I sometimes get approached when I'm out alone, and I do not take anything less than $1000. I was thinking about joining Er*s to get some steady tricks, but everytime I try to join it seems like the Universe intervenes and prevents my profile from getting approved :/. I'm still going to do my hoe-tivites until I get that wedding ring from my dream wealthy husband!

I've been hanging out with some powerful (and famous) men and women. I am not going to mention names for obvious reasons, but I met these people by simply being at the right places at the right times. I met a lot of celebrities growing up, but it's different hanging out with them as an adult 😊. At the end of the day, celebrities are just normal people with extra money and recognition.

I also became a home owner, and I did it in the time frame I gave myself. I made a goal list years ago that I wanted to be a home owner by the age of 30, and here we are! I achieved my biggest goal I set for myself, and I did it by myself. I am very blessed and grateful to be able to have my own property and I thank God everyday. Now I need a wealthy generous man who wants to pay for all the renovations I plan on doing!

My life is really a movie and I am enjoying every scene! I literally smile when I think about how much my life has changed this past year, mostly everything has been very positive and what I wanted. It's crazy how everything that has happened to me, started off as a thought, dream, or a journal entry. I believed in myself and did not lose sight of what I wanted in life. I'm so glad I'm a city girl that believes in myself and not a pick me or "bOsS bAbe", otherwise my life would not be as exciting 😉 I sometimes reflect on my adult life so far and I can honestly say that I have a lot of great experiences that the average person couldn't even dream of. I am living my best Samantha Jones and Toni Childs combined life that I have manifested since I was a little girl. Little FLPM would be in so much awe if she saw how she would be living her adult life 🥹.

Overall, I am way happier now than I was 2 years ago. I overcame the darkest time of my life and I am so strong for that and I'm proud of myself. Maybe in another post I will get more into detail of that time period, but right now it is still triggering. I am just happy that I am seeing more positivity into my life and I am open and ready for what's coming next! I will also be more active on this blog, posting at least once a week! Get ready to hop on this fun ride with me!

#fucklovepayme #update #sugaring

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queerponcho · 8 months

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Vanilla and lemon | drabble

a/n: Well- I guess i am posting something for the first time🤌🏽 I have no idea how posting on Tumblr like this works so i welcome any Tips and tricks if you have any lmao.

summary: You’re a vampire and are, once again, visiting the museum. But this time you forgot your blood-packs and cant seem to be able to leave. What’ll you do? Starve?…or help yourself to a bite of your favourite tour-guide…

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT AFTER THE CUT OFF PLEASE- i am not responsible for what kinda content you consume on the internet but i don’t wanna get blocked or reported so pls be warned this work is NSFW.

Vampire!female!reader x Steven Grant

Warnings: no use of your/n, smut, p in v, persuation, dubious consent, slight blood-play?, fingering, handjob, no mention of Jake or marc (sorry>_<), making out, not beta read, biting, marking, blood, scars, sub/steven?, begging, if i missed anything pls dont hesitate to tell mee<33

wordcount: a bit over 3000

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You have been in the museum for about 5 hours now. it's a place you like to be at, since it's shaded from the sun and usually quite deserted. You could go about the place comfortably without feeling watched or potentially being found out when you would drink out of your pre-packed blood packs. You even bought an opaque straw to make sure no-one saw the dark red thick liquid. unfortunately you forgot the straw and more importantly the packs. You’ve been waiting for the sun to set which you usually wouldn't need to-do because London was a generally clouded area, but this evening was especially sunny and warm despite it being october. You even forgot your umbrella at home, which you use to shield yourself from the sun.

there's a reason for your abrupt and unplanned leaving. you’ve been coming to this particular museum and touring the same exhibit for one reason only. The cute tour-guide, Steven Grant. He was intelligent and confident during his tour but every time you caught his gaze he would blush and avert his eyes fast, like a shy animal. you loved it. Always wearing those funky oversized shirts and ties under that beige jacket, on the warmer days he’d fold up the sleeves of his shirt to expose those delicious veins on his forearms. Every Time you saw those you could feel your canines prodding into your bottom lip. It was even worse now that you had forgotten your blood-pack. You were burning for a drop of blood, craving it. The only thing holding you back was your usual distaste of drinking directly from humans. Sometimes they would be all sweaty and smell dirty, you had to get so close it would ruin your appetite and sometimes the smell of them would get stuck on you for hours after you fed on them, which you just couldn’t tolerate anymore. So a few centuries ago you decided to switch entirely to bloodpacks, which had felt like a really good decision.

With hunger came an impeccable sense of smell. You knew Steven smelled good but you didn’t know he smelled like this. Like warm vanilla and zesty lemon, homey and comfortable. You’d press your fangs into his neck and never let go if that meant you could have that smell on you forever. The fact that he looked so good would be a definite bonus. Surely he’d be okay with living in your home, it was a historical mansion. It sed to be a vacation house for some rich nobles, but you renovated and refurbished it a while ago and kept it updated to current fashion, it was a bit of a hobby to you. He would have a huge Collection of books to read which you know he'd love, since you’ve caught him on more than one occasion, reading a different book every lunch. Just like he was right now, sitting by the giftshop, eating his pickle, cheese sandwich and reading up on egyptology. He looked really focused and you wouldn’t want to disturb, but before you can turn and move far away from him, your feet are leading you toward him.

Your instincts probably taking control as you sit down next to him, overwhelmed by the calming aura around him. He looks up from the book and locks eyes with you and you hear his heartbeat quickening. The blood rushing through his veins and supplying him with adrenaline as he looks at you flushed and wide-eyed.

‘h-hello miss. Can I help you with somethin?’ his pretty british accent isn't lost on you and the way he can't tear his eyes away from you has you riding a high you haven’t felt in a few decades. ‘I’ve been coming to your tours for a while and I really enjoy them. You’re really good at what you do’ the last part, you say in a slightly lower and breathier voice-range than usual. Your hunger is really affecting you in ways you had completely forgotten. Before you knew you were spilling compliance and persuasion spells onto Steven. You never liked to use them, they only ever worked on people that already had a certain affinity with you anyway. Meaning they’d either like you or needed to find you attractive for these to work. If you wanted to force someone you’d have to use the mind numbing witch magic you learned a few years after your transformation. That one you’d only used once, in a very dire situation on a very very old woman. It wasn't good blood but it was enough to survive at the time.

You’re brought back to Steven when you feel him leaning on your shoulder. ‘I know you’ve been watching me- I like it. You’re a very beautiful and captivating woman.’ Steven said lazily and fully giving into your spells, letting all his thoughts tumble out of his mouth. ‘I especially love your skirts- no matter the length they always make me flustered and nervous. Make me feel like theres this itch I can't scratch.’ he talks breathily and you hear his heartbeat pick up again and his blood most-likely rushing towards his growing arousal. You quickly take his tie in your hand and tug him with you. He follows you like a little puppy as you walk into a supply closet together. You lock the door with your magic and darken the window. Steven sees you do that and his eyes bulge a little out of his skull. ‘I-I gotta get back to w-work-’ Steven backs into the corner and you stalk toward him like a predator would towards his prey. ‘Oh darling, no need to worry- I only need to borrow something, yeah? It’ll only hurt a little, I promise.’ you say as you reach out to him and start to unbutton his shirt to reveal his neck and chest to you. You take off his Jacket and he blushes intensely. As your canines start protruding out of your mouth Steven surges forward and messily kisses you, you’re caught off guard but immediately tug him closer to you.

He grabs at the nape of your neck and desperately kisses you, slashing his tongue into your mouth and licking your canines expertly. This only amplifies your hunger and you slam him into the wall behind him with unnatural strength. He whimpers and paws at your soft body pulling your hips closer to his. You part away from him to let him breathe, and start licking down to his throat nibbling his jawline and earlobe. Finally you get to his pulsepoint and inhale his scent urgently lapping against it. He moans and whimpers, writhing under your touch. ‘please- please’ he moans quietly, not entirely sure what he is begging for.

He savours the taste and craves more kissing you again, licking into your mouth and letting his flavour spread into his mouth. He takes off your bra as you unbuckle his pants. He throws the bra towards where your blouse and his shirt are and walks you backwards to a table covered with rags and cleaning supplies. He shoves everythign to the floor and lifts you onto it. You plop down on the table and make a show of arching your back for Steven. He growls and comes closer reaching under your particularly short skirt and cupps your pussy over your sheer tights. You mirror his action by reaching into his briefs and wrapping your hand around his already leaking cock.

He stares at you awestruck and you take his hand in yours tugging him forward so he falls onto you. He catches himself so he doesn't crush you completely. You hook your legs around his hips and feel his jeans against your ass. His dick rubbing over your clit destroys your patience ‘fuck me Steven’ he mewls at that and positions his cock over your eager hole and pushes in slowly. ‘you’re so perfect, so tight for me always’ You both moan and you grab a hold of his hair and expose the other side of his throat to you. You surge forward and break his skin with your sharp canines. He slams down hard, now completely sheathed inside your tight wet cunt. ‘oh I love this- love you honey oh my gods’ you unlatch from him and bite a new spot next to the other one. Marking him as yours once more. He slams into you, pounding your pussy. The only sounds in the room, filthy and wet squelching sounds from the repeated thrusting and your collective moaning and panting. Steven whimpers and moves one hand to your clit, rubbing at it expertly. ‘m’gonna cum love- pleaseplease can I cum?’ You lick the fresh blood off his throat. Humming at the taste of him, you feel as he shudders and starts rutting into you uncontrollably, he’s about to cum and so are you. You move to his ear and suck on his lobe, before releasing a command. ‘cum for me Steven.’ He mewls and moans at your command and wantonly thrusts into you even faster than before. You move towards his mouth and kiss him hungrily, to his delight you take his tongue into your mouth and suck on it eagerly.

His hips stutter and he explodes into your tight pussy catapulting you towards your own orgasm as he circles your clit. He shoots his load, painting your tight walls and collapses on top of you. you come down from your high and make soothing motions on Stevens back. Your head resting on his shoulder, you turn to your favourite spot and lick his wounds. You feel his dick bob inside your pussy and you giggle at your insatiable husband. ‘never can get enough can you?’ ‘never of you, love’ he says lovingly into your hair. He lifts himself up to make eye-contact ‘you should forget your blood-packs more often when you visit me at work’ he remarks while kissing your shoulder. ‘You’re lucky that my love for you is stronger than my lust for blood, sweetheart’ Steven kisses you lovingly ‘i love you too darling. By the way, how did you like my innocent act, it was good wasn't it?’ you snort as he wiggles his eyebrows up and down. You turn your face into a seductive smirk and lean into his ear putting on a sultry voice ‘mmhm, you did so good~’ his grip on you tightens and his softening cock hardening again at your voice. His breath hitches and you kiss him quickly smiling up at him innocently when you part, he groans at your successful teasing. You lay there for a little longer, before Steven remembers that he has another tour starting in a few minutes. You help eachother get clean and collect your torn tights off the floor as you notice that the panties had gone missing. Steven kisses you once more before exiting the supply-room and as he slides on the jacket you spot a deep red piece of fabric hanging out of his Inner pocket inside his jacket. You narrow your eyes at him jokingly and he winks at you before making his way towards the waiting visitors.

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a/n: thanks so much for reading<33 if you like this please like and/or reblog😌🫶🏽

#Posting it again like this cuz i cant make a link outta the other one lmao #my first fic #pls be gentle #moon knight #steven grant #steven grant x reader #vampire au #vampire! female reader #vampire x steven grant #Steven grant smut #sub steven grant

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