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notmyneighbor · 2 months

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Let Me in ~ Doppelgänger Francis Mosses/The Milkman x Female Reader

Chapter 3

Word Count ~ 2.5k

Rating ~ Explicit

CW ~ blood and gore, body horror, character death, minor violence, dubious consent, sexual content

Also available on AO3

Fanart used with permission @kaworinx on Instagram and TikTok

You sit on the side of the bed that had once belonged to Francis Mosses.

The comforter and top sheet have already been pulled down. You lean over to slide out of your low heeled pumps, tucking the pair of navy leather shoes neatly under the bed.

There’s a bible on the nightstand. A worn looking copy. Beside it a glass with a shallow amount of water resting in the bottom, the remnant of a late night attempt to quench thirst, perhaps.

The doppelgänger watches your movements. How methodical each action is. Slow and deliberate. You’re stalling.

He settles beside you and the mattress creaks as the springs are compressed. That odd sort of shimmer you’d noticed earlier outside the security booth outlines his frame for a brief moment. A surge of light and color as the skin ripples before settling. They still weren’t completely able to disguise what they were. All hope was not lost.

Your own fate, however, seems sealed. You lie down slowly, carefully. You feel as if you are laying yourself to rest in your own coffin. Turning your face ever so slightly to see if there is any trace of the man that had once slept here, some lingering scent or an indent from his face. Nothing but the fragrance of clean linen. The imposter moves as if to join you but you halt him, your fingers closing over his forearm. Your first time touching him and not the other way around. “Take your shoes off.”

The creature snickers, glancing down at the scuffed oxfords he’s wearing. Overdue for a shine. “What possible difference does that make?”

“It’s respectful. You never put your shoes where someone sleeps.”

“He won’t be sleeping here ever again.”

You inhale sharply, wincing. “Please just do it.” You can’t say why you’re so hung up on this. Only that it seems the right thing to do. A small thing in a sea of wrongs that you’re clinging to like a life preserver.

“Fine.” He acquiesces, bending to unlace them. There is no care in his actions. Just brisk, impatient pulls to undo the knotted ties. Then he is lying beside you. Your heads sharing the same pillow. Francis only used a single one, apparently. Preferring to slumber lying with his head and neck rather flat. You always used two fluffy pillows, minimum.

You can hear the sound of music starting to play, emanating from the resident’s apartment next door.

Mia Stone, perhaps. The blonde teacher who was Dr. Afton’s fiancée. You instantly recognize the musical artist crooning through the walls: Billie Holiday.

I say I'll move the mountains

And I'll move the mountains

If he wants them out of the way

You would have loved to play this record for Francis. You envision trying to dance in the cramped space of the living room, twirling around in his arms. “Did he really like my fragrance?” You know the creature could lie, of course. He’d say anything to manipulate you and get what he wanted. But you have to ask. Your heart won’t let you avoid the query.

The dark eyes of the pretender regard you. You detect no malice or dishonesty there. “Yes,” he says simply.

You close your eyes, sighing. “What else did he like about me?”

“Your smile, gifted once you were certain it was really him. The way you covered your mouth when you laugh, making some little relieved joke when you passed his identification and entry request back to him each day. The strands of hair that came loose around your face as the day wore on into late afternoon when he returned from his route. The—”

“—Stop. Please.” Tears well in your eyes. They didn’t sound like the kind of details the deceiver would create on his own. There was a note of truth to them. Genuine recollections. He truly was all that remained of Francis Mosses. A man that had been fond of you. You could have been with him, if only you’d been a little braver.

“You asked me to tell you.”

“I know. It’s just overwhelming.”

Like the wind that shakes the bough

He moves me with a smile

“Your kind is so fond of music. Your milkman was always humming. I don’t see the use for it.”

The your wrenches your heart. He wasn’t yours. Never would be. “It’s a way to expression emotions. When words alone aren’t enough.”

“Hmmm.” He reaches out and you flinch. “Why are you fighting this so hard? This is what you wanted.”

“I didn’t want Francis to die.” You pause, swallowing past the lump in your throat. “Why do you want this?”

”Curiosity. An experiment of sorts. There has never been a union between our kind. Not of this nature. A desire to know what it feels like. To see what might result.”

You shudder. An experiment. Using you like some kind of animal for breeding. A mere whim.

He reaches again and this time you force yourself to hold steady, your chin lifting with a short jerk of defiance. Your hair is his goal. Tucking it back behind one ear. Maybe something the milkman had wanted to do. There’s a sudden softness in the doppelgänger’s eyes. As if the human he’d once been was peeking through at you. You find yourself melting again, your defenses coming down.

I say I'll care forever

And I mean forever

He moves closer to you. Inching over across the white fitted sheet. A thumb strokes away one of the tears that has escaped its prison. He captures the other from the opposite cheek, bringing it to his lips, his tongue darting out to taste the droplet. “Salt,” he says, recognizing the mineral.

He kisses you.

You’re not sure if it’s better to think of the man you had loved or not. Was it dishonoring his memory or was it a way to keep him present in some vague capacity? There’s no clumsiness this time. He knows the feel of your mouth. The way to shift against you. Tongue mapping past smooth cheeks and dragging along the carpet of muscle at the base of that maw. Maybe it was better to pretend this was Francis after all. You cup the back of his neck, fingers teasing the edges of his milk chocolate tresses. Curling slightly on the ends. It would be time for a trim soon. Would have been. The illusion you’ve created is crumbling again. Your lips falter, your hand dropping away.

Crazy he calls me

Sure, I'm crazy

Crazy in love am I

“Sweetheart,” the invader murmurs, tasting along your jaw, your neck. “I like the way you smell.” Speaking for himself, not Francis. You hear the sharp intake of air. The hand that had been casually laid across your shoulder slides down until it reaches your breast, gently kneading that globe through the layers of your bra and blouse. “Does this feel good?” His voice is octaves lower than you’d ever heard from the milkman. Slightly raspy and sultry, not unlike the singing voice that permeates through the wood and plaster behind the bed. You don’t dare answer, merely whimpering a little and he seems to take this as an affirmative response.

His hand leaves your breast and finds the top button of your shirt. Always sensible, pure white, part of the uniform standard the company requires. Another threaded plastic disc is pushed through the hole. He works his way down until all those that are exposed have surrendered, the remainder still tucked within your skirt. His fingers part the edges of the fabric encasing your torso, peeling them back to reveal the white satin brassiere beneath. He caresses you briefly through this slick material before tucking inside the cup until he brushes across your areola. Your nipple peaks beneath his ministrations as his lips move back to yours. He is surprisingly gentle, lightly pinching and rolling the aroused tissue. Your body betrays you, responding to the creature’s touch. You should be ashamed, disgusted. Instead you find yourself wanting more.

“Off,” he murmurs impatiently, plucking at your bra before his hand departs your chest. You struggle to sit up and he allows it, watching you pull your blouse free from your skirt and unfastening the cuffs before sliding it off your arms. With a swift gesture borne of long practice you easily pinch and release the hook and eye closures resting along the center of your spine, the cups immediately folding down over the underwire, the straps drooping over your shoulders.

The doppelgänger assists you now, sliding the brassiere off the rest of the way, exposing your chest to him. Your cheeks are pink, flushed like the nipples he’s toying with again, his head bending to suckle at one and a lick of flame sears your core. This is part of the invasive species’ learning process, you think. Taste as important as touch. His mouth moving not with the sole purpose of your pleasure in mind, but as a means to explore flavors and textures. Cataloguing. More of humanity’s secrets unveiled.

There is a song you don’t recognize playing next door now. Muffled voices. You’d had no idea the walls were so thin. Francis had never complained.

You’re shoved back down onto the pillow. His mouth wanders, back up to sample a collar bone, the hollow at the base of your throat, then dips in between your breasts and tastes the skin of your abdomen. You wonder if he can detect the floral soap you’d bathed with that morning, the traces of lotion you’d applied during your hygiene routine.

“I like this,” he says, his breath warm on your body. “You’re so soft. Smooth. Not like…I’ve never taken…” It had often been debated if there were sexes in their species. How they propagated. There was still so much unknown. Was there a reason he’d only chosen men to replicate? Was it simply because he was male himself? You could not explain how you knew it, but there was something distinctly masculine about him. Authoritative. Blunter than a woman would be. A lifetime of being raised to respect decorum had been firmly ingrained in you. Society valuing a woman who knows her place. Taught to be demure, deferring to the wisdom and guidance of their male counterparts. Serving and obeying, like you’re doing now.

The imposter returns his attention to your face. Licking your mouth back open. He likes this, you think. All of what you’d shared thus far, but perhaps the kissing best of all.

The background melody silences and you think you detect the front door opening and closing. You wonder if the couple will be going out to an early dinner. Curious when they find there is no one guarding the building. But not alarmed. Not yet.

Your skirt is being lifted, polyester dragged upward after the copycat’s hasty reach downward to gather the hem. Immediately sliding back down, stroking over your exposed thighs that are clad in nylons that stop midway across each of your upper legs. Nothing fancy, just utilitarian features in a shade of nude slightly more tanned than your own complexion. He nudges against the seal you’ve created by pressing your legs close together. “Let me in, sweet girl.” An echo of what he’d said earlier in an attempt to gain access to the building, now seeking entry into you. You feel your limbs parting for him nearly as promptly as you’d opened the door.

The pretender works his way back up to the fork of your body, teasing along the crotch of the white panties. You gasp and he smiles against your lips. His palm drags over the fabric until his fingers find the elastic waistband and he dips beneath it, running overly the neatly trimmed hair on your pubic mound, following the curve of that padded flesh until your sex is palpated.

Another gasp and a moan escapes you. “So wet,” he remarks, fondling the pink lips, parting the petals with his middle finger to slide through the slick arousal your body is creating, working the lubricant up and down, passing over the hooded nub and then delving back towards your entrance, where more fluid escapes.

It feels good and yet it doesn’t, his fingers too rough and just shy of where you need him. You squirm and wince at the harsh handling of your clitoris and he pauses, his lips brushing the shell of your ear. “Show me. Show me how you like to be touched.”

You reach down cautiously, guiding his fingers to one side of your sensitive bud, lightly pressing and rolling a fingertip so that your clit is ground slightly against the bone beneath. Alternating now, reaching back down to gather more of your slick before spreading it over that hooded button, a few direct strokes applied before beginning the process again. He replicates your actions and your body responds immediately, a hum of pleasure heating you. You close your eyes and you think of the milkman, the real one, with his kind smile and his tired eyes.

“Francis.” The name escapes your lips and you freeze, the rocking motion of your hips against the imposter’s hand abruptly ceasing. You hadn’t meant to say it out loud. Alarmed by how easily you’d allowed yourself to give in to the desire, accommodating this make believe passion.

“It’s alright, love. It’s me. I’m here.” His tongue laps at your ear, at the sensitive patch of skin behind it. You shiver and resume grinding against his fingers, letting yourself be deluded once more, your hand curling over his forearm.

“Francis,” you say again, hoping he can forgive you, in whatever form he now occupies, if he is saved as his faith professes he would be, finding redemption and peace, somewhere far from your sinning body that writhes in pleasure from his murderer’s touch.

You push against his hand and he allows it, applying force against the hollow cavity that leads to your womb. “Let me in,” he breathes, and you feel a finger invading your body, shoving through the narrow confines of that muscular tunnel. Withdrawing and spearing again, the digit saturated with your arousal. You moan and lift your pelvis to meet him. Curling inside, massaging that dip of spongy tissue. Crooking each time he enters as if he is leading you forward, beckoning, his thumb drawing circles over your clit. You feel as if you’re on the edge of a chasm, teetering on the rim, about to drop forward into heat and darkness. Keening now. Thighs tremoring violently. Your face turns and your teeth sink into the pillow. “There you go, love. Give it to me. Give in to me.”

The coiling pressure within you snaps and you find release at last, the fabric clenched in your teeth doing little to muffle the sound of your orgasm. You’re drenched in sweat, the aftershocks of your appeased nerves still sizzling through you. The doppelgänger cradles you through all of it, holding you as you ride the waves that exhaust your limbs, making you feel boneless and limp.

“Francis.” It’s a yearning plea, a futile prayer, answered by the thing that is not him, but masquerades as such, crooning to you, whispering false promises, draping you in synthetic affection, a lie you want so desperately to believe.

#thats not my neighbor #francis mosses #milkman #francis mosses x you #francis mosses x reader #milkman x you #milkman x reader #doppelgänger

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ja3yun · 2 months

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Red Ocean | P.JS

vampire!jay x succubus!femreader warnings: smut (mdni), rough, unprotected sex, power dynamics, blood and biting (a lot of it), dirty talk, spanking, oral (m.rec), throat fucking, swallowing, mentions of manipulation and control (but all consensual!), not proofread, anything else lmk! wc: 8.5k synopsis: with jongseong starving for his next feed as a self proclaimed veggie, his friend suggests visiting red ocean to quench his thirst, but when he gets there, there's something off about the place. a/n: hi! so listen, this is completely new territory for me bc i write cute lovey dovey scenes and this is pure FILTH. this was originally going to be a thank you for 1.5k (which thank you btw!) but i think i want to write something else for that since this kind of fic doesn't suit some people's taste, so please enjoy it as just a lil something. there is a lot of blood and vampire stuff so like, if you don't enjoy that, feel free to scroll!

Slumping onto the couch beside his buddy Jake, Jongseong looks like he's been through the wringer. His eyes are droopy, his head's pounding, and he's got this desperate hunger gnawing at him. "I'm fucking starving," he groans, squeezing his eyes shut, trying to block out the craving for blood that's been driving him nuts.

It has been 4 weeks since he has had a decent meal and he is starting to lose the strength in his body, his powers growing weaker by the second. It’s gotten so bad that he almost mauled the girl next to him in the lift on the way up to his best friend, Jake’s apartment, thinking about how good it would be to pierce her neck and taste her blood on his tongue, drinking her until he’s stuffed.

But it goes against Jongseong’s number one rule: never feed from a human.

Jongseong has lived his life for 148 years and lived 127 years of it as a vampire. He has been a self-proclaimed vegetarian for over 60 years, vowing that now he can control his thirst around humans, he will never feed from anyone ever again. It was a personal choice, one that is lost on his friends because, to them, one of the greatest pleasures in this shitty never-ending life is to feast on fresh human blood.

It’s not that he didn’t love the taste of human blood, in fact, he often finds dinner within the confines of a type O blood bag that Jake kindly provides him when on shift. His friend works as a delivery man, transporting goods from one hospital to another, and sometimes while he has to use the ‘bathroom’ he sniffs out what he calls the Treasure Room; a room filled with red gold. Stealing the blood is easy, it’s understanding why Jongseong won’t just suck on a pure nape that is the hard part.

“There are some bags in the fridge,” Jake points over to his white, shabby refrigerator where he keeps some spare bags of sweet crimson for himself, “I can’t keep doing this, Jongseong. The hospitals are starting to notice and it’s hard enough to feed me never mind you,” he exhales heavily, trying to relay to Jongseong the burden he carries.

Jongseong sighs, fighting to find the energy to drag himself to the fridge, “I’m sorry, the closest woods is 5 hours away and wildlife doesn't exactly run rampant around these parts,” he retorts, hoping his friend will understand his struggle.

The bags are nice, but they’re cold and stale, he wants something warm and substantial, something only living beings can provide. Unfortunately for him, deer and foxes have been scarce in recent weeks.

Nodding, Jake pulls himself off the couch to grab him and his friend a bag. Jongseong watches Jake take the blood bags from the refrigerator, his stomach twisting with relief and remorse. He despises having to rely on Jake for meals, knowing the toll it puts on his friend.

Jake hands him one of the bags before sitting beside him once again, concern etched on his face, “You could start feeding from humans again,” he suggests, knowing that it’s sort of a lost cause. Jongseong has been a veggie for so long that he knows the idea is ludicrous to him, but it seems like his only option now.

“Not a chance in hell,” Jongseong argues back, piercing his fangs into the blood bag and sucking some out of it, his eyes lighting up as he tastes the sweetness. Despite his love for human blood, he stands by his morals, “I’m not that person, I’m not like those mosquitoes from the Tracks.”

The Tracks are notorious for hosting some of the most bloodthirsty vampires to roam Seoul. They’re lethal and dangerous; in Jongseong’s eyes, they might as well be parasites. He knows it’s wrong to cast judgment on a whole group of people based on a few individuals, but these creatures aren’t like Jake and Jongseong; they’re predatory and conniving, doing whatever it takes to get humans to surrender to them, even if that means abusing their power.

Jongseong vowed to never do such a thing, to keep humans safe. After all, he was laid victim to the hands of a vampire all those years ago, why would he now wish to cause the same harm to an innocent being?

Jake sits up straight, his thinking cap secured firmly on his head, “What if they consented? Like how Bona has consented to me?” he offers as a solution.

Bona is Jake’s long-term human blood bag turned girlfriend, she allows Jake to take what he needs from her, trusting him to never harm her. It works tremendously well, however, as much as she is there to provide herself to her man, Jake doesn’t like to abuse the offering, hence the use of blood bags for himself.

Jongseong scoffed, recognising the uniqueness of Jake's situation, "It’s alright for you to say, your girlfriend is the most chilled person I know. Could you imagine if I just walked up to someone and was like ‘Hey, can I suck on one of your main arteries for a couple of minutes?’ I’m sure that’ll go down well,” he remarked sarcastically, highlighting the absurdity of the notion.

Suddenly, Jake’s eyes light up as if he had come up with the solution to all of Jongseong’s problems, “What about Red Ocean?” he queries.

“The sex club? I’m hungry, not horny, Jake,” Jongseong says back.

Red Ocean is a famous strip joint in the middle of town that also provides bonus services to those who throw enough money around. It’s not the worst place in the world but it is certainly not what he is looking for.

“Well you’re single as well as hungry,” Jake starts, his face never diminishing his bright expression, “What if you could quench both thirsts at once?”

Jongseong had no problem getting laid, in fact, he was good as it gets for a superb fuck around these parts; it didn’t take long for him to lure women into his bed for a one night thing. But that didn’t mean he feasted on them, he was far too much a gentleman for that. The woman that he slept with signed up to get pounded into, not drained of their blood.

"What the fuck are you even suggesting? That I go feed off some poor girl just because she's a sex worker? It's a legitimate profession, you know," Jongseong argues vehemently, placing the now-empty blood bag on the coffee table before him.

Rolling his eyes, Jake lets out an exasperated sigh. "Yeah, yeah, we all know you’re a feminist" he quips, brushing off Jongseong's defence, "But Red Ocean isn't just your run-of-the-mill sex club. My buddy Jungwon told me they've got a whole section specifically for vampires like us. Plenty of willing donors, no strings attached."

Jongseong runs a hand over his face, feeling the weight of exhaustion settling in, "But why would anyone agree to that?" he wonders aloud, struggling to comprehend the idea of people willingly offering themselves up as disposable blood bank for a paycheck.

Shrugging nonchalantly, Jake takes a sip from his own blood bag, "Different strokes for different folks, I guess," he offers with a shrug as if that explains everything, "I'll have Wonnie send over the details."

Despite his reservations, Jongseong knows that his hunger won't be satisfied for long with just blood bags. Reluctantly, he nods, conceding to Jake's suggestion. Perhaps Red Ocean holds the key to quelling his insatiable cravings without compromising his morals. Only time will tell.

_____

Standing outside the red-lit nightclub, Jongseong hypes himself up to enter, his comfort zone being pushed to its brink. He is a homebody who enjoys binging TV shows and playing his guitar, so this venture is foreign to him.

His nervousness is heightened by the fact that he is here alone. Jake, being the devoted lover he is, would never risk an argument with Bona over a place like this. And Jongseong's other dependable friend, Heeseung, is preoccupied with a work assignment, leaving him to traverse this foreign environment on his own.

Despite his concerns, Jongseong knows he can't back out now, the hunger that lies in the pit of his stomach is only getting worse. With a final steeling of his will, he pushes open the club's entrance and enters the throbbing, crimson-hue interior, prepared to face whatever awaits him within.

The place really lives up to its name Red Ocean because all he can see in front of him is red; red lighting and neon signs, the workers are all laced with some form of red attire, and there is an ocean of people. Jongseong looks like a deer in the headlights as he walks up to the reception desk.

His gaze is immediately drawn to a sultry figure standing near the entrance. She's the epitome of allure, with long, flowing hair cascading over her shoulders and a figure that curves in all the right places. Her eyes, smouldering with an enticing gaze, seem to beckon him forward.

She stands behind a large desk area, her presence commanding attention as she takes in the arrivals with a knowing smile. Dressed in a form-fitting dress that accentuates her ample curves, she exudes an air of confidence and sensuality that leaves Jongseong momentarily breathless.

As Jongseong approaches, he can't help but feel a flush of heat rise to his cheeks under her gaze. Her lips curve into a seductive smile as she extends a manicured hand towards him, her voice smooth as velvet as she speaks.

"Welcome to Red Ocean," she purrs, her voice laced with a hint of mischief, “How can we fulfil your desires tonight?” Her question hangs in the air as Jongseong is entranced by her.

He can’t put his finger on it, but suddenly he’s more tired than before, his body almost as if it’s being led on its own, like he’s having a strange out-of-body experience. Perhaps it’s the heat mixed in with the smoke, or maybe it’s something more.

Clearing his throat nervously, Jongseong tries to regain his composure as he addresses the hostess. "Um, yeah, I was told there's a private area?" he asks, hoping she'll understand his subtle hint.

With a dark smile, the hostess nods, her gaze lingering on him with a knowing glint. "Absolutely, sir. For £700, you can enjoy the company of one of our talented performers in a private setting, with a complimentary bottle of champagne," she explains smoothly, her fingers dancing across the screen of her iPad.

Jongseong defiantly shakes his head, “No, no, none of that,” he notices how her smile drops as if he has offended her, “No! I just don’t…I don’t need that kind of service,” he says softly. This is going a lot more awkwardly than he had planned. The last thing he needs to do is offend her, this could be his only chance at a proper meal for weeks.

There’s also a nagging voice in the back of his mind that’s telling him to be careful. Telling this woman outright that he is a vampire could end disastrously, hunters lurk in every corner of the city, waiting for their moment to capture vampires exactly like him. It’s not easy to tell who is a hunter and who isn’t, so for all he knows, this club could be collecting vampires and luring them in with possibilities of feeding when in actual fact, they will tear them limb from limb and burn them out back.

He has to tread carefully here.

The atmosphere is heavy around him as he tries to regain control of the situation, but with his energy low, it’s proving difficult, “Do you provide…special services?” he asks, puffing out his chest a little to feign confidence.

Jongseong isn’t a timid person, he’s always been known for being strong and confident but for some reason, he’s regressed back to his little awkward, virgin self. This place is throwing his entire aura off and messing with his head. Maybe it’s just the hunger that sits within him.

The hostess eyes him sceptically, her gaze lingering on him in a way that sets his nerves on edge. "We offer a variety of unique services, tailored to each individual's preferences," she replies, her voice dipping seductively as she sizes him up. "So, sir, how can I ensure you have the best experience possible?"

Jongseong shifts uncomfortably under the weight of the hostess's scrutiny, his mind racing with uncertainty. He hadn't expected this encounter to be so challenging. Every instinct tells him to tread cautiously, to protect himself from potential danger while still satisfying his hunger.

"I... I'm looking for something," Jongseong finally manages to say, his voice barely above a whisper. "Something... off the menu, so to speak."

The hostess raises an eyebrow, her expression unreadable as she considers his request but she doesn’t budge, in fact, she crosses her arms, clearly having enough of this encrypted conversation. Jongseong needs to be straightforward if he wants to leave here fully satisfied.

The password.

How could he forget that Jake had texted him a password? Once Jake had asked his friend Jungwon for more details, he said the only way to get into the back area with the other vampires was with a password. Jongseong’s brain has been so clouded since he walked in here that he completely forgot the one important detail.

"Dracaena Trifasciata," he manages to utter, though his pronunciation leaves much to be desired. Still, the hostess's reaction tells him he got the message across, her bored expression transforming into a sly smirk.

As Jongseong watches, spellbound, the hostess's transformation leaves him momentarily breathless. Her once closed-off demeanour now radiates warmth and familiarity, as if she's greeting an old friend rather than a stranger.

"My little crimson crusader," she purrs, her voice sending a shiver down Jongseong's spine. "Why didn't you just say so?"

Her words are like a siren's call, drawing Jongseong closer until he stands before her, unable to resist her magnetic presence. As she reaches across the desk, her hands beckoning him nearer, Jongseong obeys without hesitation, his curiosity mingled with a sense of trepidation.

With deft fingers, she undoes the first few buttons of his crisp white shirt, her touch sending sparks of electricity dancing across his skin. He feels a flutter of nerves in the pit of his stomach as her hands glide over his chest, exploring with an intimacy that leaves him feeling exposed and vulnerable.

She tilts her head, her gaze locking with his in a silent exchange of understanding. Jongseong can't tear his eyes away from hers, captivated by the depths of emotion swirling within them.

Despite the warmth of her touch, Jongseong can't shake the feeling of unease that gnaws at the edges of his consciousness. There's something about her that feels off, something that sets his instincts on edge. She isn’t a vampire, the heat of her touch is enough to clarify, but she is certainly no human.

But as he stands there, caught in her gaze, he finds himself unable to pull away. Whatever she is, whatever secrets she holds, Jongseong knows one thing for certain: he's in deeper than he ever imagined, and there's no turning back now.

As she pulls away, a sense of relief washes over him, though he can still feel the lingering intensity of the hostess's gaze. Standing upright behind her desk once more, she regards him with a mixture of curiosity and amusement, "You're a lot younger than those we see around these parts. You can't be any more than 160," she muses, her perceptive gaze honing in on Jongseong's youthful aura.

"I'm 148," Jongseong admits quietly, a hint of embarrassment colouring his tone. He's never given much thought to his age, existing as a perpetual 21-year-old who happened to live through 3 plagues and 2 world wars.

Pouting playfully, the hostess holds a hand over her heart in mock sympathy, "Aw, you're just a baby," she coos, her tone patronising. The remark sends a surge of irritation coursing through Jongseong, his shoulders tensing and his jaw clenching involuntarily.

He suppresses the urge to retort, reminding himself to tread carefully in this unfamiliar territory. Despite the hostess's seemingly jovial demeanour, there's an underlying edge to her words that sets him on edge.

Circling the desk, the hostess stands in front of the young vampire, her body dangerously close to his as she leans up and presses her lips to his ear, “Follow me, I’ll lead you to everything you’re starving for,” she whispers. Jongseong feels a shiver run down his spine as the hostess's warm breath caresses his ear, her words sending a jolt of anticipation through him. Despite the warning bells ringing in the back of his mind, he finds himself unable to resist the allure of her invitation.

_____

As Jongseong weaves through the crowded club, his senses are assaulted by the mingling scents of sweat, alcohol, and, most tantalizingly, human blood. Each passerby sends a wave of hunger coursing through him, his fangs threatening to descend at any moment. But he clenches his jaw, reminding himself of his resolve to abstain from feeding on humans. Yet, isn’t that what he’s on his way to do?

Beside him, the hostess effortlessly navigates the throng of clubgoers, her presence commanding attention wherever she goes. She greets familiar faces with a knowing smile, exchanging pleasantries with ease. Jongseong can't help but marvel at her confidence and poise, even as his own nerves threaten to betray him.

Eventually, they reach a door marked "Staff," but as the hostess swings it open, Jongseong is met with an unexpected sight - a long, dimly lit brick corridor stretching out before him. The hostess glances back at him, urging him to follow with a subtle gesture.

With a mixture of apprehension and curiosity, Jongseong steps through the doorway, the weight of uncertainty heavy on his shoulders. He can't shake the feeling that he's venturing into uncharted territory, but with the promise of satisfying his hunger looming before him, he presses on.

As they reach the end of the corridor, Jongseong's heart quickens with anticipation, his senses heightened as they stand before the heavy, rusty door, “It’s just through here…” she trails off, silently asking for his name.

“Jongseong,” he replies, bowing his head in politeness.

"Jessica," she offers in return, a slight grin playing on the corners of her mouth. Her simple gesture of introducing herself somehow eased the tension that had been coiling in his chest.

Jessica pushes open the door, revealing what can only be described as another reality. As Jongseong crosses the threshold, he feels as if he has been transported to a place beyond his imagination. The space before him is bathed in a delicate, ethereal glow, and the air vibrates with a palpable energy that awakens his senses. Peculiar symbols decorate the walls, their significance unknown to Jongseong but imbuing the place with an aura of ancient mysticism.

Jongseong's eyes widen in astonishment as he takes in the scene before him. The space beyond the heavy door is bustling with activity, filled with vampires from every generation lounging on plush couches and perched on bar stools. Gone is the facade of the club he had entered earlier; this is the true heart of Red Ocean.

The lavish area makes Jongseong question everything he has ever known. How many places are there like this? He hadn’t heard about this secret club until only a few days ago, so how long has it been here?

More importantly, “Uh, how much is this service?” he asks timidly as his eyes still scouting around the area where vampires are chatting away as if they aren’t deadly creatures of the night.

“Oh baby boy, don’t worry about that,” she smirks, turning to face him. It’s an ominous response, one that doesn’t fill him with much confidence, but he’s so hungry and weak that he can’t afford to pass up this opportunity due to mere scepticism. As long as it doesn’t break the bank, he’s willing to pay whatever he needs to quench this thirst.

The air in this new section of the club only serves to make him feel weaker like it’s sucking the breath from his lungs.

As Jessica looks around the room, his eyes follow, leading him to see a beautiful girl leaning against the bar, nursing her drink. The hostess’ face beams as she ushers the mystery girl over, much to Jongseong’s delight.

He might only be here to feed but who says he can’t indulge in these needs with someone beautiful like her?

“Y/N! Over here,” Jessica shouts, gesturing her friend forward.

As you hear Jessica's call, you set your drink down, licking the remnants of the sweet beverage from your lips. It’s been a slow night for you, your usual boy cancelling last minute, leaving you in desperate need of someone new, someone to play with.

Snaking your way towards the awkward boy, you make sure your movements are purposeful, each sway of the hip intentional as you lure him into your vice. He’s a pretty little thing, much prettier than half of the men here, so you find yourself trying to grip him with your movements, beckoning him closer with every step.

As you approach him, you can't help but feel a surge of excitement coursing through you. There's something about him that sets him apart from the others in the room, something that makes your pulse quicken with anticipation.

This is going to be a fun night.

"You are just the girl I need to treat my little sucky cup here well," Jessica states with a teasing grin, tracing her hand down Jongseong's arm, causing him to swallow deeply, "Could you take him off my hands?"

As you get closer, a rush of exhilaration runs through you. Jongseong's lingering gaze on you, hunger and desire in his eyes, just adds gasoline to the fire that is blazing within you.

Stepping closer, you rub his chest, much like the hostess had done but your touch is a lot more enticing, the way your fingertips linger on his skin a little too long causes his dick to twitch and his knees to crumble, as if he wanted to bow down and worship the ground you walked on.

Your leg slips between his, your knee rubbing against his inner thigh, close enough that he can feel it near his cock but far away enough to have him whining for more contact, "What's your name, baby?" you ask softly, your voice dripping with seduction as you look up at him through hooded eyes. You can see the desire burning in his gaze, the hunger for something more, and you're more than willing to give him what he craves, even if he doesn’t quite know what that is yet.

Jongseong's chest tightens at your touch, and his senses are overwhelmed by the magnetism you exude. With each passing second, he becomes fascinated by your presence, unable to resist the pull of attraction that draws him closer to you.

"Jongseong...Jay....Jongseong," he replies, his voice a frantic whisper. Your proximity, mixed with the gentle motions of your body against his, causes him to feel dizzy with need.

You stifle a laugh as your nails dig into his chest, eliciting a sharp intake of breath from Jongseong. "Jongseong Jay Jongseong, I’m Y/N," you purr, your voice dripping with seduction, "Would you like me to take you somewhere with a little more privacy?"

Your gaze meets his with an intensity that sends a shiver down his spine, your fingers digging into his flesh with a mixture of pleasure and pain. "Or would you like to have an audience?" you continue, your eyes wandering to the left.

Jongseong follows your gaze, his heart pounding in his chest as he takes in the scene before him. To the left, round couches are cluttered with vampires indulging in their primal desires, feeding from their claimed workers, fucking into them with velocity. Some couples are locked in passionate embraces, their bodies entwined in a frenzy of lust, while others simply watch on, their eyes gleaming with arousal.

One particular couple catches Jongseong's attention, the sight of blood dripping down the girl's body as she relishes the feeling of a vampire pounding into her from behind, their shared moans only silenced by the loud music that surrounds the club. He hates to admit it, but it makes Jongseong’s dick twitch.

Peeling his eyes away, he returns his gaze to you, “Private, please.”

You withdraw your body from him, leaving him aching for your touch. You held so much power over him despite being a supernatural creature, "A gentleman, huh?" you tease, your voice dripping with amusement. "Let's see how long that lasts." He can't help but feel a sense of longing as you tease him with your words, your playful demeanour only adding to the intensity of his need.

If he was starving before, he’s ravenous now.

You lightly intertwine your fingers with his as you pull him towards your private room, the knuckles of his hand brush along your ass as you stay a step in front of him. His eyes rake over the back of your body and take in the sight of you. You are perfect in every way, your body exactly his type, the lingerie set you have on is a beautiful white laced number that leaves nothing to the imagination.

Jongseong is too busy admiring the way your ass cheeks jiggle as you walk that he doesn’t even notice you opening the door and leading him in. Your presence is like a drug all on its own, like he needs to surrender himself to you to experience the full pleasure.

The moment Jongseong sets his eyes on the room and not your body, he's enveloped in a world of sensual decadence and luxury. The walls are draped in rich, red and gold fabrics, casting the space in a warm, inviting glow. Intricate patterns adorn the walls, adding a touch of opulence to the intimate setting.

In the centre of the room sits a large, lavish round bed, its sheets adorned with intricate designs that shimmer in the soft light. The bed beckons invitingly, promising hours of pleasure and indulgence for those who dare to partake.

To one side of the room, a collection of toys is splayed out in the corner, their presence adding a hint of playful excitement to the air. From silk restraints to feathered ticklers, the array of implements promises endless possibilities for exploration and delight.

But that’s not what he is here for, he is here for a quick feed to tide him over for the next few weeks until he can go out hunting again. This is transactional and absolutely nothing more.

Lighting a few candles on the mantlepiece, you hear him speak up behind you, “Uhm, you should know that I’m not here to have sex or anything, I just need to feed a little,” he confesses.

The room, though exquisitely decorated, suddenly feels charged with tension as Jongseong's words hang in the air. The candles flicker softly, casting dancing shadows across the red and gold decor as you turn to face him, your expression unreadable.

"Excuse me?" you respond, your voice laced with disbelief. For a moment, Jongseong can sense a flash of anger in your eyes, a flicker of indignation at his suggestion.

But before he can backtrack, Jongseong rushes to explain himself, his words tumbling out in a frantic rush. "I'll pay for the full service!" he blurts out, desperation evident in his voice. "But to be honest, I just need some blood, that's all."

You laugh, slowly sleeking your way back to him. If he was turned on by the view of you from the back, he was foaming at the mouth as he took in the sight of your breasts spilling slightly out of the white-laced cups.

“Jongseong, who told you about this place?” you ask, leading him to sit down on the edge of the bed.

“A friend of a friend,” he replies, trying not to touch your sides with his big hands despite the urge that flows through him.

To make matters harder for him, you straddle Jongseong's lap and a surge of arousal courses through him at the feeling of your barely covered pussy pressing against his covered cock. His breath catches in his throat as you wrap your arms around his neck, your proximity overwhelming his senses.

"And did this friend of a friend tell you about our services? What it entails?"

With a playful pout, you gaze into his eyes, your seductive gaze leaving him feeling helpless under your spell. His mind goes blank, his thoughts scattered as he struggles to gather his thoughts in the face of your overwhelming allure. All he can do is shake his head in response to your question, his lips parting slightly in silent anticipation.

Blinking slowly, you draw him in closer, your silent command irresistible as he leans towards you, drawn by an invisible force he can't resist. And as your lips hover mere inches apart, you whisper words that send a shiver down his spine.

"You feed from my blood," you murmur, your voice sending a thrill through him as you grind down onto him, eliciting a shallow moan that you swallow eagerly, "And I feed from your desire."

It’s like something finally clicks in his brain; the lack of energy, the pull you have on him, his hunger replaced with a burning desire, the password being a succulent snake plant. You were no human.

“You're a succubus,” he whispers, the words hanging in the air as confirmation of what he's known deep down all along.

Placing your hands on his cheeks, you hold him in place as you swipe your tongue along his lip, tasting him for the first time. He tastes like honey, the sweetest taste you won’t be able to get enough of.

Taking his hands that are clenched tightly by his sides, you open them up and place them on your breasts which he happily obliges, “We can be called many things, succubi, Lilith’s angels, demons, the list is endless.”

As Jongseong squeezes your tits, you feel a surge of pleasure course through you, the sensation heightened by the contrast between the supple softness of your skin and the rough texture of your lingerie. Despite his attempts to resist, he finds himself unable to break free from your hold, drawn deeper into the web of desire you've woven around him. Even if he wasn’t under your spell, he doesn’t really know if he would want to stop anyway.

"We can be called many things - succubi, Lilith's angels, demons," you murmur, your voice dripping with seduction as you revel in his touch. "The list is endless."

As you speak, Jongseong can feel the weight of centuries of history and lore pressing down on him, the knowledge that vampires and succubi have long been intertwined, using one another to get what they need. But while vampires may pose a threat to humans with their insatiable thirst for blood, succubi wield power far more dangerous, feeding off human desire and emotional vulnerability.

Thus, Archangel Michael made it his mission many years ago to rid God’s great earth of any incubi and succubi, summoning his choir to catch them and burn their souls. The purge started in the 1910s, causing most demons like you to go into hiding, to save yourself from obliteration.

It makes sense why Jongseong had never heard of this secret part of the club before, they had a lot to lose if news got out. For Michael’s choir, if they were to find out about this place, they would have a field day, picking apart each and every one of them.

You see his brain ticking and it makes you giggle, “We can help one another out, no?” you pose the question, knowing you can make him say whatever you need him to, to do whatever you please with him. Flicking your hair to the side, you expose your pure nape, “C’mon Jongseong, aren’t you starving?” you say seductively, your tone hushed as you emphasise the word starving.

Jongseong’s hand reaches up to touch your exposed neck to feel the blood pumping through your veins. He can hear it coursing along your neck, begging to be drunk by him. He licks his lips in longing, knowing that what he craves is just under your thin layer of skin.

As Jongseong's body reacts to your touch, his primal impulses take control, pushing him to the brink of want. His trousers tighten, a physical indication of his intense yearning. In his mind, he tells himself that you, your power, that is causing him to feel this way. But deep down, a nagging doubt persists: is it truly you, or are his own primitive urges driving him to the point of desperation?

Lost in the haze of lust, Jongseong finds himself unable to distinguish between reality and desire. The line between craving your blood and yearning to be buried deep inside your heat blurs, leaving him consumed by a frenzied need that threatens to overwhelm him.

His finger pricks your neck, drawing some blood as a taster out of the tiny wound. Involuntarily, his fangs protrude as he smells your sweet crimson blood, his mouth watering at the idea of devouring you right here, right now.

You know you’ve won, you’re going to get what you need and all at the expense of a tiny bit of blood, “That’s it, baby, give in to temptation,” you urge him, pulling his face closer to your neck. You can feel his breath ghosting over the wound and it makes your body press itself against him, seeking your own form of satisfaction.

Finally, he gives in, licking up the droplet of blood that seeps out of your neck before piercing you harshly. He savours the taste of your blood on his tongue, his senses ablaze with euphoria. Demon blood is intoxicating, having the same effect on vampires as alcohol does on humans, leaving vampires delirious with pleasure. He’s gentle compared to the older men you’ve had, meaning he has some form of restraint in him left.

Undoing his buttons, you slip off his shirt past his shoulders, hands roaming over his tanned skin as you crave to feel every inch of him. You tickle up his sides softly, causing his arms to instinctively pull you closer, pressing your tits against his bare chest as he revels in the sensation.

Retracting from your neck, his mouth stained with your blood, Jongseong's eyes meet yours with a newfound determination, "Stop controlling me," he demands, his voice laced with defiance as he challenges your hold over him.

But you shake your head, refusing to relinquish your grip, "Sorry, I can't do that," you reply, your tone unapologetic, "It's the only way I can get my end of the deal."

Jongseong bristles at your refusal, his determination only growing stronger, "Stop controlling me, and I'll fuck you properly," he challenges, his words a bold declaration of his intent.

Capturing your lips in his, he bites down on your bottom lip, sucking the sweet blood from it as he loses himself in the moment, bucking his hips up to rub his jeans against your clit, sending a wave of pleasure through your body.

In that moment, Jongseong proves himself to be more than just another vampire under your control. With his youth and vigour, he possesses a raw intensity that sets him apart, igniting a fire within you that burns hotter than ever before.

Licking along his right fang to taste your own blood, you moan out, craving him more than anyone ever before, “Fine. But don’t disappoint me, baby. I would hate to use you like a puppet,” you whisper back, your tongue collecting more of your blood from his chin.

In a flash, Jongseong feels like he finally has his energy back, that weight of your control finally lifted, leaving him the opportunity to do whatever he wants with you. Although he knew the intensity of your manipulation, he hadn’t realised how freeing it was to be in control of his own body.

Quickly, he lifts you up and tosses you on the bed, his strength showing as you fly up to the middle of the large bed. His display of strength only fuels your desire for him further.

You pull him by his neck to hover over you, kissing him messily as you breathe in his need for you, “Tell me what gets you off,” you say quietly, a smirk playing on your lips as you lend your hand down to cup his cock through his jeans, “You want me to suck you off?”

Jongseong groans into the kiss, the idea of your pretty lips around his shaft only sending him further into a tizzy, “Fuck yes, Princess. You think you can handle it?” his grip lands on your throat, squeezing it tightly as he shuts off your airwaves for a millisecond, “You think your tiny little mouth and throat can take me all the way?”

He originally came in here for your blood, but now all he’s thinking about is how he needs you bent over every surface, in every position, and having you begging for him. Something is appealing to him to hold so much power over one of hell’s strongest demons. Especially in your own playground.

You haven’t seen his cock, but your mouth starts to water just at the thought of it. Honestly, you didn’t expect him to be so vocal and demanding considering when you saw him he looked like he turned into the wrong club.

Maybe he was full of surprises.

Pushing him off you with all your might, you take control once again, “Edge of the bed, baby,” you instruct, sticking by your promise to not manipulate him into doing what you want, however, if he proves to be difficult, you might need to take things into your own hands.

Luckily, he’s an obedient little bat, taking off his bottoms before sitting down, stroking his thick cock as he waits for you to get into position.

You give him a light kiss on his lips before trailing down his neck. Your actions leave your wounds seeping in front of him, inviting him to drink your blood once more. It stops you in your tracks but you don’t mind, the sensation of his hot, wet tongue licking over your wounds somehow made your pussy throb.

His fangs are anchored into you, stopping you from moving. He can’t get enough of you, your blood slowly turning into an addiction as he drains you, feeding himself full of you.

Reaching your hand down, you grab his cock and yank it, causing him to yelp and withdraw his mouth from you. Jongseong’s eyes are wide as if questioning your intentions but you only offer him a laugh as a response, kissing into his mouth as you stroke him slowly.

Your soft hands feel amazing on his member, the way you expertly tug and squeeze him in all the right ways, it’s sensational, but he needs more. One of his hands pulls your face, holding it tightly in place as he stares deep into your eyes, “Are you going to suck my cock like you promised? Or do I have to fuck your throat instead?”

If you weren’t already wet, you were now. It’s as if he knows exactly what to say to get your motor running like he somehow knows all your turn-ons. Placing one last kiss on his lips, you snake down to his hardened length, tip pink with arousal. It’s so inviting, practically begging to be sucked.

Swiftly, you take his head into your mouth, sucking eagerly as you look up at him, eyes glistening with want and need.

Jongseong moans out, the sight of you taking his cock in your pretty mouth while your blood is smudged all over your lips, it’s a sight he wants to etch into his brain forever. For all the years he’s been alive, this might be his favourite moment.

You love it too. As Jongseong's desire amplifies, you feel a surge of energy coursing through you, fueled by the intensity of his lust. It's a sensation unlike any other, the raw power of his desire feeding into your own, replenishing your energy with every breath he takes.

Taking him deeper into your mouth, you lay your tongue flat and bop your head up and down at a perfect pace. Jongseong grips your hair tight, creating knots in the strands as he pulls at your roots. The motion elicits a hum from your throat, sending a vibration through his cock straight to his tight balls.

“Fuck, Princess, you’re so fucking good at that,” he states the obvious, knowing that you do this often, but this was a new experience for him, not one person has ever come close to sucking cock as good as you do.

You smile as you look up at him, your cunt dripping from his praises. It means something more when the men you’re with are saying those sorts of things out of their own free will, not because you’re feeding those thoughts into their minds.

Jongseong can feel himself getting close, ready to cum down your throat and have you swallow it. He thrusts into your mouth, now taking charge as he pushes your head down and bucks up, the back of your throat not stuffed with his fat cock.

“I’m gonna cum, Y/N,” he warns before shooting his load down your throat, each spurt making you gag as you struggle to swallow it.

With his hand on your neck, Jongseong massages your throat, coaxing you to open wider and take in everything he has to offer. As he presses deeper into you, he can feel his length snugly nestled within your channel, the pressure from his hand adding to the pleasure coursing through him.

Finally, sensing your need for air, Jongseong pushes you off of him, allowing you to finally catch your breath. Despite not having even fucked you yet, you feel completely satiated, your body thrumming with the energy you've drawn from him.

You’re throat and face is red as you regulate your breaths, your voice hoarse as you begin to speak, “Did I meet your expectations?” you ask, biting your lip as you straddle him once more, his cock laying against your thigh.

Nodding, he pushes your hair back from your forehead, “You’re fucking unreal,” he whispers.

Laughing, you take hold of his spent cock, pumping him softly, “Can you fuck me, or is our session done?” you ask, hoping for a certain answer.

With his sensitive cock in your hand, he hisses, shutting his eyes as he revels in the sensation. He wants nothing more than to bend you over and fuck you senseless, but he needs to replenish the energy that he’s given away to you.

Jongseing takes your other hand, bringing your wrist to his lips. As he kisses your veins, his eyes remain locked onto yours, his teeth ready to sink in and take what he needs once again. Swiftly, he sinks his fangs in, causing you to tighten your grip on his dick, causing the vampire to moan out loudly.

You take it as a sign to keep going, stroking him until he is hard again.

The mixture of your hand working his oversensitive length and the blood he’s slurping out of you push his adrenaline to a new level, his energy replenished and his need to take you even more prominent than before.

Reluctantly, he removes himself from your wrist, kissing it softly before giving you it back, “I’m going to fuck you so good, you’re going to beg to be my personal blood bag,” he whispers, primal thirst for blood overtaking his body. But you don’t mind, truthfully, you like this side of him, it gets you off seeing him take control of you.

With a firm grip on your ass, Jongseong lifts you effortlessly, carrying you to the centre of the bed and laying you down gently. Your heart pounds in anticipation as he moves your thong aside, exposing your glistening pussy to his hungry gaze.

Desperate for release, you wrap your legs around his hips, grinding your folds against his throbbing cock in search of any form of relief. The friction sends waves of pleasure coursing through you, igniting a fire that spreads up to your stomach.

Jongseong's desire burns hot as he positions himself between your legs, his eyes locking with yours as he prepares to claim you as his own. At that moment, there's no room for hesitation or restraint - only the need to lose yourselves in the ecstasy of each other's embrace.

You arch your back, urging him to take you completely. The anticipation builds between you, each moment stretching out into eternity as you both crave the release that only each other can provide.

“Tell me you want it,” he demands, his mouth finding its way back to your neck. Mewling out, you try to push his cock inside of you but he holds steady, resisting your advances, “You were being so good earlier, what happened?” he tuts.

As hot as it is for him to be in charge, you can’t stand him getting too cocky, "I want you, but that's the difference, isn't it? I want you, but you need me," you tease, running your tongue across your bottom lip in defiance.

Jongseong clenches his jaw, and his eyes deepen with want. Despite his efforts to retain control, your words create a fire within him, creating a need that threatens to swallow him completely. But he pulls himself back, determined to show you that he is still in control.

With that, he thrusts into you with a force that leaves you gasping for breath, your walls clenching around him in response to the sudden intrusion. Each movement is calculated and deliberate as he sets a punishing pace that leaves you trembling with pleasure.

He takes you roughly, his cock sliding effortlessly in and out of your wet heat. A moan escapes your lips as you feel him stuff you to the brink, the sensation overwhelming in its intensity. He’s holding no punches, making sure you know exactly who needs who.

Your nails dig into his back, leaving crescent-shaped marks in their wake as you cling to him desperately, your body writhing beneath his with unbridled passion. Every touch, every kiss, sends shockwaves of pleasure coursing through you, igniting a fire that threatens to consume you entirely.

“Jongseong!” you cry out as he drives into you harder, making sure you feel every inch of him, your walls being battered by the strength of his large dick. He’s incredible, top 5 best fucks you’ve ever had.

As Jongseong sits up, his hands pressing firmly against your back to arch you, you feel a surge of pleasure course through you as he drives himself even deeper inside you. His commanding presence leaves you breathless, lost in the intensity of the moment, “Tell me you need me,” he hisses out, spanking your ass as he thrusts faster, “Go on, beg for it.”

His demand sends a shiver down your spine, and you can't help but cry out in ecstasy. Each thrust drives you closer to the edge, your body trembling with anticipation as he takes you to new heights of pleasure.

With your resistance cracking beneath the force of his want, you find yourself entirely succumbing to him. Your raw, needy voice fills the room as you scream for more, your words a desperate plea for relief.

"I need you, Jongseong," you cry, your voice full of longing, "I need you to fill me up, to give me your cum." Despite the roughness of his previous ministrations when he was fucking your throat silly, you find your voice somehow, driven by an intense yearning that runs through you.

A triumphant grin spreads across his face as you give in. He drags you up by your hair and makes you sit on his cock as he piledrives into you harder, the tip of his cock hitting your sweet spot. Your neck is still pumping out blood but he knows he can do better than that; his teeth sink into you again, tearing the flesh as he rips into you, feeding from you like a man starved for centuries. The blood drips down onto your white lingerie, turning it pink.

In the throes of ecstasy, pure bliss envelops you both as you reach the pinnacle of pleasure, screaming out each other's names in a symphony of release.

"Jongseong!" you cry out, your walls clenching tightly around him as he spills his seed deep inside you. His movements slow but remain powerful, each thrust sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body.

Your limbs go limp as you bask in the aftermath of your shared climax, your heat still clinging to him desperately, unwilling to let him go. Every inch of your being feels alive with pleasure as if you've been transported to another realm of existence.

Collapsing on top of you, Jongseong’s pants are short as he tries to catch his breath, his entire body exhausted. His tongue licks your wounds lazily, hoping it can heal you somewhat while also drinking every last drop of his dinner.

“You’re amazing, Y/N,” he whispers into your nape, “Are you okay? Was it too much?” he asks with genuine concern, warming your chest a little.

“I’m good, thanks, Jongseong,” your voice is hushed, the effort to speak proving too much.

He rolls off of you, examining your body to make sure there’s nothing bleeding out. You spot him doing this and laugh, “I’m fine, it takes a lot more to kill me than some vampire bites.”

It fills him with relief to know you’ll be okay. He hasn’t ever gone that far before, giving into his vampire urges so easily. He had lost complete control tonight, but as scary as that is, he wants to experience that again.

No deer or cow will ever compare to the sweet taste of you.

Almost like reading his mind, you lean against the headboard and speak up, “If you see Jess, she’ll be able to book you in for a next time.” Your eyes glimmer with mischief and also promise. You want to be devoured by him again by any means necessary.

Nodding, Jongseong begins to get dressed, using the wet cloths provided by the club to clean his face of any blood. It’s a shame that all that beautiful red nectar going to waste.

“What if I don’t come back?” he teases, a smirk gracing his beautiful face as he turns to you.

“You will, they always do.”

#enhypen smut #enha smut #enhypen x reader #enha x reader #jay smut #jongseong smut #park jongseong smut #aj writes

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hanafubukki · 8 months

Text

[Mildly suggestive]

Summary: Lilia loves you dearly yet intensely.

Lilia watched as you dozed right next to him.

His coat laid over you.

Your hand was entwined with his as you slept.

He used his other to move some tendrils of hair away from your face.

You mumbled as you leaned into his slightest touch.

An inner dark stirring came to him, something he hasn’t felt in centuries.

This stirring he felt ever since the overblot incident with Malleus.

He can recall how his dream self was fascinated by you, by your light.

He recalled how his current self’s fondness for you mixed with the confusion and interest of his past self.

His need to possess and own reared it’s head in the dream realm, even now he can feel the shadows of it call to him.

To own

To possess

To claim

You were someone his past self couldn’t have due to the war, but yet you were a temptation he sought.

Lilia chuckled as he leaned towards you, kissing your forehead then leaning his head against yours.

“You don’t understand the power you hold over me.”

He recalled how his past constantly, furtively watched you. How it wasn’t Sebek nor Grim that he found threatening, but Silver. His own son.

How you leaned on him and Silver did the same. How you checked up on him and made sure he was okay.

How he, in return, cared for you just as much.

Lilia remembered the burning pit in his stomach.

“Jealous of my own son, oh precious, what you do to me.”

He recalled how he kicked Silver to distract the enemies and the slight satisfaction he felt before you screamed for his son.

The way you checked and made sure Silver was okay and the look of disappointment you sent him after, had his past self flinching.

He recalled how he wanted to take you and claim you. Over and over, until you knew nothing else but him. Wanted nothing else but him. Begged for him and he would have gladly provided.

Mine.

The word is whispered in the recess of his mind. Yes.

His.

As you stirred awake, blinking up at him. Bringing a hand up to cup his cheek, you called his name with your voice filled with sleep and love.

That was all it took.

Lilia felt himself give in to his inner and darker desires. Why deny himself? When you were right here? So willing and loving?

The hands clutching at him. Leaving marks of your own. The gasps and moans that you sung, expressed how willing you were.

It wasn’t enough, but it would be. He didn’t plan to stop until the lines that separated you two blurred into one.

Until he was quenched of his thirst for you, until you begged and pleaded for him, knowing nothing but him and pleasure.

He hoped you were ready, because this thirst wouldn’t be satisfied for a long while, and he very much loved the song you sang as he expertly loved you.

The past and current Lilia aligned, enraptured and enthralled in their desires to fully claim and possess you, only the moon a witness to these lovers.

#hana queues #twst x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #lilia vanrouge x reader #lilia vanrouge #twst lilia vanrouge x reader #twisted wonderland x you #twst x you #twst smut #twisted wonderland smut #general lilia vanrouge #general lilia Vanrouge x reader #lilia vanrouge x you #twst silver #lilia vanrouge smut

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dxstopiaa · 11 months

Note

hello! >u< how are you? if it's okay, may i request the sumeru men with a s/o who loooooves sitting on their lap? i hope you have a great day/night!

characters: alhaitham, kaveh, cyno, tighnari and dottore x gn! reader

warnings: sfw! may be suggestive! otherwise fluff [hii anon! i hope you are doing well too! i tried to post something even though it’s been a month, i’m so sorry <3]

alhaitham

“Haitham, can i sit on your lap again?”

“…You may.” The Acting Grand Sage looked down at you, who had unknowingly sat on the desk infront, eyes gleaming so enthusiastically it’d be a shame to deny you of what you so kindly requested.

If anyone didn’t know the scribe as personally as you did, they’d say he was a cold-hearted man with a thirst only knowledge could quench— that he was incapable of demonstrating love. He’d overheard such earlier, watching the two students indulging in some pointless (and incorrect, mind you) gossip.

He wasn’t one to care of other’s perception of him, but with you in his life and his lap, he had to show at least some regard for his reputation. Seems like all you cared about at the moment was adjusting against his chest so you could snuggle your face into the corner of his neck. Firmly muscular, but comfortable.

He smelt pleasant— hints of fresh citrus and old books radiated off of him like an aura. You suppose the scent of a person really said a lot about them. Al Haitham, that once bitterly cold man had been reduced like a squeezed lemon, sour at first but you’ve drained that attitude from him. As for the other, well, the books were self-explanatory. He was a needed comfort either way.

“Can you read to me too please?”

“You ask for too much, darling...”

kaveh

“Kaveh, you wouldn’t mind me sitting on your lap, right?”

The architect’s breath hitched, pencil hovering over the unfinished blueprint. Did he just hear you right? He sighed, wondering why he felt the need to express hesitance when you’re his beloved. That’s new, and awfully endearing too.

His lack of an answer left thoughts swarming your head within seconds. Did i make him uncomfortable? Why though? You’ve done much more intimate things with him than this. You spun around on your heel, a mediocre attempt at fleeing the flustering scene. The creak of a chair accompanied with a tight grasp of a hand around your wrist had settled you onto Kaveh’s thighs.

“Don’t run away, sweetheart, i was a little taken aback, that’s all.” Your boyfriend massaged circular motions into your tense shoulders, apprehensively stiff to the touch. You melted into his gentle ministrations, finally lowering yourself into his lap securely.

“Am i not bothering your soon to be due planning?” You quizzed, turning your head to glance at the messily organised desk, fragments of graphite smeared over it and numerous pencils scattered across the surface. A professional procrastinator is what he was, he never accepted such a name from your mouth, poorly persuading you to keep quiet so he could de-stress.

“I needed a break anyway, my love, just rest with me a little while longer.”

cyno

“I know you’re busy Cyno, but can i sit with you please?”

Such innocently vague phrasing truly disguised your intentions. When you said it like that, Cyno didn’t think much of it and simply agreed. That was until you positioned yourself comfortably on his lap, legs either side of his thighs.

He gasped softly— watching you loop your arms around his neck and snuggle your face into his chest. Bold behaviour like this wasn’t normal for you but he supposed this didn’t have any deeper meaning other than wanting to be close to him.

“Dear…you don’t have anything up your sleeve, do you?” Cyno quizzed, squinting slightly to search for any reaction from you. Your light giggle and the abrupt shaking of your head suggested you didn’t have any ulterior motives.

The general grinned briefly, setting down his report to embrace you with his arms and began to kiss your forehead delicately, leaning into his gentle touch as if you were a cat starved of attention.

“Why don’t i change that, darling?”

tighnari

“Nari, sitting on your lap won’t interfere with your work, yes?”

Your boyfriend froze, the abrupt request felt unfamiliar to fall from your tongue, yet he couldn’t find it within him to decline such an offer. He placed the pen down, turning so slightly as to not let you see the hint of rose over his face.

“Well, i suppose it wouldn’t.” The forest ranger mumbled, trying his hardest not to show a trace of embarrassment. So much for the composed, knowledgeable chief everyone knew. You, on the other hand, smiled cheekily, walking over to see what mess you’ve made.

Just as you were about to tease him, Tighnari seized your waist and spun you around to sit facing the other way. Of course, you facepalmed yourself mentally, how could you limit your lover’s sharp mind?

Tighnari was not about to let you make fun of him with your little tricks— like how you did numerous times before.

“Not so fast darling. I think i deserve an apology for that, physical or verbal, it’s up to you.”

dottore

“My husband, can i sit here with you?”

Dottore trailed his scarlet eyes over your torso, following your outstretched arm until he witnessed your own finger directed to his very lap. You… wanted to sit on him? How flatteringly bold of you. He shifted his legs to let you move in between, patting his situationally vacant legs.

“As you wish, my love, don’t keep me waiting.”Your lover chuckled as your sudden expression adapted into a more coy smile, whether this was from hesitance or excitement, he didn’t know. Your gentle hands reached for his shoulders, so lightly as if you were afraid.

His thighs were firm yet soft enough to rest your own on top, allowing the harbinger to run his fingers along your back whilst he admired the way in which you’d relax against him without a care in the world. He only mattered to you in this moment— the unexpectedly soft, caring husband no one knew of but yourself.

Dottore hasn’t meant to become so attached to the feeling of your thighs encasing him, now it was the only way he was fond of, with you right where you’re safe.

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not-neverland06 · 19 days

Text

How About a Nuke?

Part I / Part II

Cooper Howard x fem!reader A/N: This is really a prelude to the real story. It’s who they were before the bombs dropped and not as fleshed out as it could be. Summary: Hollywood doesn’t agree with you, as much as you wished it would. Until you meet Cooper Howard and he flips your world upside down. (Image below does not represent reader, I mean I don’t even look like that)

“Quench your thirst and a little bit more,” you winked and held up the dripping bottle of Nuka-Cola. You shot your best smile at the camera in front of you, holding it until the director let out a loud “Cut!” The smile dropped instantly and you dumped the bottle back in its cooler.

Tom walked behind the camera, a frown on his face as he replayed the clip. You’d been here two hours already for a thirty second promo, there’s no reason it should have been taking this long.

You shifted, the leather on your legs creaking uncomfortably. They had you in some odd little space suit, more sexy than functional. The backdrop behind you was of painted stars and an out of scale moon. You weren’t sure how space and Nuka-Cola connected but a check was a check.

“Is that who I think it is?”

You turned around at the sound of gasping. Your eyes widened and your stomach dropped when you watched the Cooper Howard walk through the entrance of the studio. Your biggest celebrity crush and idol just walked through the door and you were dressed like a sexy astronaut. This is beyond embarrassing.

You had begged your agent to let you take some more serious roles, or at least a few fun ones. You’d been stuck in the same role of sexy bombshell for too long. You couldn’t even escape it doing a few advertisements. You wanted someone like Cooper to think you were classy or distinguished at least. Not some sellout with over lined red lips.

You whipped your head around, hoping he wouldn’t notice you, and pretended to be fascinated by the cheap set you were on. “Mr. Howard, a pleasure,” you briefly glanced over your shoulder to watch your director shakehis hand. Cooper looked up, his eyes briefly catching yours. You winced and turned back around.

“What are you doing here?”

”Filming a new advertisement for Nuka, would you like to see?”

”Why, yes I would.”

Oh, this was wonderful. Just great. You reached up to pinch the bridge of your nose but your hands just jammed painfully against the plastic of your helmet. You listened to them replaying your clip, hating the sultry tone of your voice. You hated being typecast like this.

You didn’t work so hard to earn your spot in Hollywood just to be forced into the role of a sex symbol. You could be more, you knew it. You just needed a chance. “You did wonderful.”

You jumped in shock at the voice near your ear, your helmet hitting something hard. You heard a groan of pain and turned around mortified to see Cooper holding his nose. “Oh, Mr. Howard, I am so, so sorry.”

He shook his head and held up a hand, smiling amicably at you. “My fault, sweetheart, shouldn’t have snuck up on ya.”

You let out an annoyed huff and finally pulled the damn thing off. “Honestly, I should pay more attention, this damn thing’s a safety hazard.” He chuckled and it made you smile without even realizing it. You could feel the heat already blooming under your skin, just barely resisting the urge to fan yourself. But you couldn’t help but be flustered. It was Cooper Howard!

He finally let go of his nose and you sighed in relief when you saw that it wasn’t too badly damaged. He seemed to understand your relief because he laughed again. You heard whispers behind the two of you and finally realized just how close you both were. A couple PA’s stood huddled together, pointing at you with accusing fingers and harsh glares.

Probably not smart to be a sex symbol and stand so close to a married man.

You dropped the smile and took a step back from him. As much as you disliked typecasting, you would hate losing jobs more. You didn’t need any rumors to spread because you smiled too widely at Cooper. Lord knows your career barely survived the last round of gossip, that you’d been sleeping your way into roles. Which you hadn’t. You don’t need anything more like that bothering you now.

Cooper glanced over your shoulder and seemed to notice the same thing as you, but he didn’t seem bothered by it like you were. Of course, he was a man and he was very happily married, he didn’t have to worry about the same things as you. He was secure in both his relationship and place in the world. You’d just barely gotten a foothold on everything.

“I thought you seemed just sweet as peaches in that clip.”

You gave him a brief smile, “Thank you.”

”Though,” he frowned and glanced over at the director. You rolled your eyes when you saw Tom point over at you and then gesture to his stomach. If they sinched your waist one more damn time your ribs were going to crack. “I don’t quite understand why you had to be seductive.” He seemed genuinely perplexed but it didn’t take a genius to understand the underlying message of his words.

You shrugged, “Just seems to be the way my career is going right now.”

”Is that what you want?”

Your brows furrowed in confusion. You haven't been asked that before. Of course you’d spoken up about being unhappy with your roles, though you still took them. But no one had ever asked you what you wanted. An odd feeling bloomed in your chest and you took another precautionary step back. “Um,” you frowned and shook your head, “no. It’s not what I want.”

He smiled, seemingly pleased by the answer. “Look, sweetheart, I didn’t come here to drink cola or chat,” he held up his hands in apology, “as wonderful a conversationalist as you are. I’m filming a movie right now. We're looking for a lady with a strong presence to be my companion in the film. I’ve seen your movies, you’re capable of a lot more than they’re giving you to work with. I think you’d be perfect for the role.”

Your ears started to ring as you stared at him in shock. It was hard to keep your jaw closed the longer he spoke. There’s no way that everything you’ve been wanting was just being offered to you on a silver platter. Stuff like that only happened in…

Well, it only happened in movies.

“That is if you want the role? You’re not looking particularly enthused,” he gave you a charming grin and you finally remembered you actually had to respond to him to get what you wanted.

“Yes!”

You didn’t care how loud you were or how dirty the looks you were getting from others were. There was nothing on your mind other than the man in front of you and what he was offering you.

Everything you wanted.

You stared up at the poster on Cooper’s wall. “I always thought I looked ridiculous in this one.”

“Well,” Barb came up behind you and handed you a martini. You took it from her with a grateful smile and took a sip. You tried to stop your face from screwing up but alcohol had never really sat well with you. “I think you look amazing.” She smiled at you and walked back towards the living room.

You stayed where you were at the end of the stairs, staring up at the too-large poster. You and Cooper were standing back-to-back, your gun raised to your lips and a smirk on your red lips as your hat laid tilted over your eyes. The bright red cursive title sat under your spurred boots, The Outlaw and The Sheriff.

Well, they certainly hadn’t been creative with the name. You couldn’t really bring yourself to care, though, it had been your first real role. You had played someone of substance, someone whose entire life didn’t revolve around the man she wanted to have an affair with. Cooper had opened up more doors for you then he would ever understand.

You turned from the poster and back to the party. For once you weren’t being surrounded by a group of groping producers or Hollywood execs. Being a part of Cooper’s family, someone he was mentoring, it carried a certain power within the den of vipers. You weren’t untouchable, but you weren’t someone to be so easily ruined.

You flashed kind smiles and coy waves at the people who called out your name and made your quick escape to the backyard.

Cooper’s new movie had been released and he was having a sort of celebration party. Though, you think it’s just Barb trying to integrate Vault-Tec into the movie industry. From the disgusted looks on some of your co-star’s faces you could tell it wasn’t going very well.

You sighed in relief at the fresh air and slowly made your way over to the pool chairs. Your feet ached in your heels and you could already feel blisters starting to form. You undid the straps and slipped them off. You lowered yourself onto the edge of the pool and dipped your toes in, the relief instantaneous.

You weren’t out very long before you heard steps approaching. You let out a deep sigh, mentally preparing yourself for your peace to be ruined by whoever wanted to bother you. “You’re not skipping my party, are you?”

You opened your eyes to find Cooper smiling down at you. You always wondered how his smiles could be so genuine when he spoke to you. You hadn’t felt like you’d given anyone a real smile in a long time. This industry had taken a lot from you and lately you’d been wondering if it had stolen your happiness too.

You shrugged, “It was getting a little boring.”

He grinned and slipped his shoes off. You watched him roll his pants up and groan as he dipped his legs in the pool with you. His smile slipped and his eyes widened when his legs landed in the water, “Damn, it’s fucking cold!”

You barked out a laugh, rough and very unladylike while he squirmed like a girl at a little cold water. “Didn’t you fight in a war?” You teased.

He nudged his shoulder into yours, “Watch it,” you shook your head, dismissing his faux warning. You knew he didn’t really mind when you bugged him. It’s how you two had been acting around each other since day one. Tabloids labeled you two as close as kin, brother and sister.

As much as it bugged you every time you read a headline like that while standing in line at the grocery store, you supposed it was better than everyone thinking you were some two-timing slut. But it bothered you how much your relationship being labeled siblings in nature irritated you. He had a wife and child, you couldn’t let some pathetic crush cloud your judgment like this.

It was real hard to remember that, though, when he looked at you the way he did. Sitting by his side, under the moonlight, his eyes warm and earnest as he sent you an easygoing smile. You’ll never figure out if it’s in your head, but you swear he doesn’t smile at anyone the way he does at you.

You feel like the only woman in the world sitting there with him. Like there wasn’t a party going on a few yards away in his house. And you hadn’t just accepted a martini from his wife who had graciously invited you into their home. It was just you and him.

You didn’t realize you were leaning in until your lips were brushing his. He should have pulled back. You shouldn’t have leaned in. But his hand was on your waist and the other was buried in your hair, desperately pulling you closer.

It wasn’t gentle or slow like you’d always imagined it. His mouth was moving hungrily over yours, practically devouring you in his desperation to get as close to you as possible. His hand tugged at the roots of your styled hair, a pained moan slipped through your lips. That wasn’t enough to snap you out of your trance, but his tongue licking into your mouth was. He groaned, tasting and savoring you like you would be his last meal. Like he had wanted you just as much as you had wanted him and he wasn’t going to let this chance slip away.

You jumped back but he didn’t let you go far with his hands on you. His eyes slowly opened while the reality of the situation dawned on you both. You let out a horrified gasp at the sight of your lipstick smeared over his lips. “Oh, god, Coop.” You whispered, voice strained as you stared at him, “What did we do?”

His eyes darted between yours, the realization coming slower to him. When it did, you could pinpoint the exact moment it hit him. His mouth drew up in disgust and he ripped his hands off you. He leapt up, water splashing your dress as he did, but you were too hurt to really care. He clamped a hand over his mouth, looking very much like he was about to throw up on you. “Fuck,” he hissed, jaw clenched and eyes squeezing shut.

You grabbed your bag and shoes and rushed to your feet. You dug around in your purse, hands shaking so much you could barely undo its clasp. When you finally found your handkerchief you dipped it in the pool and held it out to him.

He glanced towards your outstretched hand and then to your ashamed face in confusion. “You have my lipstick on your lips,” you whispered. He snatched it out of your hand and scrubbed at his face so hard you wouldn’t even be able to make out the lipstick with how red his skin was.

Slowly, and without a word, you both made your way back into the house. The tension was thick, neither of you able to look at each other. You kept an unusual amount of space between you for two people who were always so close. If anyone looked out the door at you right now, well, even Bud Askins would be able to tell something was wrong.

You made it to the glass door and Barb intercepted you. Your heart leapt to your throat. You’d never been more disgusted with yourself. Not only did you kiss this woman’s husband, you had fucking enjoyed it.

In fact, you wished you were out there still. As small a taste you’d gotten of him, you craved more. Your body was on fire with desire, core throbbing when you thought about the way he’d kissed you. You forced yourself to stop imagining what it would be like if he had kissed somewhere else. God, the thought made you burn.

She laughed and gave you an odd look, “You look like you saw a ghost.”

Cooper chuckled and you whipped your head towards him in shock. Not only did he look completely unaffected, but he was smiling at you. You couldn’t look at him long, afraid your face would further give you away. You were a good actress, but not nearly as good as him.

“This one almost accidentally took a dip in our pool,” he and Barb both laughed and you forced yourself to join in.

“Yeah, and I think that might have been enough excitement for me.” You smiled at Barb and leaned in to kiss her on the cheek, the taste of her husband still on your lips. “I’m gonna head home. Enjoy the rest of the party.”

Cooper stopped you before you could completely slip away, “I’ll walk you out to your car, honey.” You nodded, not willing to argue in the middle of his crowded home. Still, you didn’t make it easy for him to keep up with you. You were at the door before he could blink, practically flying out of the house.

You probably would have made it all the way to your car without another word if it weren’t for him clasping a hand around your elbow. “We need to talk.”

You shook your head and he let out a disappointed sigh. You already knew what he was going to say, and you agreed wholeheartedly. What had happened tonight was a mistake. Not only were you risking your career but you could ruin his whole life if you continued down this path. As much as you wanted him, as much as you had yearned for him, you couldn’t be so selfish.

But you also couldn’t handle hearing him say that to you. It would break your heart to have to listen to him explain all the reasons you could never be with the man you were so desperately in love with. “I know, Coop, I know.”

His grip tightened on you when you tried to slip away. You set pleading eyes on him, praying he couldn’t see the tears already starting to build. You knew he could, though, when his gaze softened and he eased his grip on you. After another whispered “please” he finally nodded and stepped back from you.

You slipped your arm from his hold and ran to your car. You leapt inside and peeled out of the driveway like the devil was on your tail. And maybe he was, maybe you deserved it. Because you still couldn’t help yourself, glancing in the rear view mirror to see Cooper standing at the end of his driveway, watching you go with a distraught look on his face.

You wiped the tears off your face and turned back towards the road. You could never be with him. You could never love him the way you wanted. You’d have to be satisfied for the rest of your life with the taste you’d gotten tonight. That would be all you would ever allow yourself.

“A fallen star, Cooper Howard has become a reject within Hollywood. Fellow actors and actresses have been refusing to work with him, making it difficult for the former celebrity to find work. Recent reports say he’s been seen at birthday parties more than on set.”

The female reporter shook her head, “Such a shame. We’ve been hearing that this is all due to his former ties with Vault-Tec. Ties which were recently severed in a grisly divorce with ex-wife and Vault-Tec employee, Barb-”

You clicked the TV off, shutting the ridiculous news report up and ran a hand down your face. You hadn’t seen Coop in a few months. After that night at his house, you’d dropped the movies you’d been doing with him and put as much distance between the two of you as you could.

That thought made you feel like the worst piece of shit. You couldn’t have known that Hollywood was going to turn its back on him. You couldn’t have known that nearly two weeks after you cut ties his entire life would go up in flames. You should have been there for him. How you feel about him shouldn’t matter when your friend needs you.

He’d given you everything he could and you couldn’t even be there for him when he needed you. Of course, once you’d heard about the divorce, you’d called up Sebastian. But he had warned you not to try and reach out to Cooper. He seemed to think it would only make things worse. The more you heard, however, the more guilty you felt about not being there for him. Tabloids and gossip columns certaintly hadn’t been kind when the news of his divorce had come out.

They pounced on the opportunity to further rip into his wounds and present them to the world. You glanced down at your couch cushion, the magazine you’d picked up in the store staring back at you. The front was a picture of him walking out of a house, donned in cowboy gear and clearly performing for a children’s party.

You sighed and decided you should finally push aside your pride. You snatched your keys from the hook and headed out the door.

Cooper didn’t seem to believe it was you when he opened the door. His eyes, cloudy and red, narrowed before he frowned and took a step back. “That really you?”

You offered a weak smile and a, “Hi, Coop.”

He scoffed and you could tell he was getting angry. His accent always got a little rougher when he was pissed off. “‘Hi, Coop’,” he mocked, a sneer on his face. “Four months without contact and that’s all you have to say. Fuck off,” he went to close the door but you blocked him with your foot.

It stung, honestly, the cruel way in which he spoke to you. But you knew he could be a lot meaner if he wanted to and it wasn’t as if you didn’t deserve it. You had been a shitty, selfish friend. “I’m sorry, I was just nervous. I just,” you paused, struggling to find the right words to make this any better. He crossed his arms, still refusing to let you into his house. “I called the second I heard, but Sebastian had told me it would be better if I didn’t come.”

His brows furrowed before he glared at you. “So you don’t even fucking call?”

“I was wrong and selfish. Cooper,” you reached out, laying a gentle hand on his arm. “I’m sorry, I’m not asking for you to forgive me. I am genuinely so sorry I wasn’t here for you. But I’m here now, if you’ll let me be.”

The next minute was unbearable. You felt too awkward to take your hand off his arm and he refused to speak. He didn’t even blink, just glared at you, the longer the silence went on the more you could feel yourself losing your nerve. Maybe this had been a mistake.

Finally, he sighed and your heart leapt to your throat. “Come in,” he stepped to the side and opened his door up further. You kept your mouth shut and slipped into the house. It seemed to be the only thing he’d been able to hold onto since the divorce.

The door slammed shut behind you and he pushed past you to slip into the living room and throw himself down on the couch. You followed slowly behind him, taking oddly tentative steps, like if you made a noise he would kick you out.

He had his arm thrown over his face, his eyes clenched like he was in pain. You perched yourself on the edge of the chair you usually sat in, feeling oddly uncomfortable. You fidgeted restlessly on the cushion, crossing and uncrossing your legs, tapping your toes against the floor.

It had seemed like such an easy decision to come here half an hour ago. But you hadn’t had a plan and that was really biting you in the ass now. Desperate for anything other than the sound of the fabric underneath you, you blurted out the question that had bothered you for months.

“What happened?”

He sighed, like he’d been expecting it. He sat up slowly, grabbing a glass of brown liquor off the coffee table and taking a swig. He leaned forward on his knees, glaring over at you. “What are you talking about? You’re gonna have to be specific, sweetheart, everything in my life has fallen apart.”

You winced, hating the callous way you’d asked the question. You’d meant to approach the subject more gently, but it wasn’t easy to keep your curiosity contained. “Everything, I guess. Last time I saw you, you were on top of the world. What happened?” You tried to ask your questions as gently as possible, but there really was no use sugarcoating anything.

“Flew too close to the sun and I fell,” he shrugged and sent you a sarcastic smirk. “But I see you’ve been doing great, huh?”

“Not really, I’ve stepped back from taking on any contracts. I would have dropped Nuka-Cola too if their lawyers weren’t so damn good.”

He shrugged, like he didn’t really give a shit about your life or how it was going. This hurt, how he was acting, you’d never seen him like this. He was acting so mean and despondent. “Found out Barb was advocating for nuclear war and Vault-Tec was backing her. Finding out your wife is orchestrating war crimes really puts a wrench in your marriage.”

You wished you could be surprised, but Barb’s odd behavior since joining the company had been obvious to everyone but Cooper. He laughed when he saw the look on your face, “You say ‘I told you so’ and I’ll throw something at you.” You shook your head and sank back in the chair. “Anyway, Vault-Tec dropped me and since everyone in Hollywood hates me that was the last paying job I had. Now, I’m working kid’s parties.” He scoffed and smiled mirthfully, but the hatred in this look was directed at himself. “How the mighty have fallen, right?”

He threw back the rest of his whiskey and slammed the glass back on the table.

“I really am sorry, Coop. I should have been here.”

He didn’t look at you, just shook his head, “No point. If you had been, I would have dragged you down with me. Probably the smartest thing you could have done.” You hated this, it made your heart hurt to see him so down on himself.

This wasn’t the Cooper you knew. This was a man completely broken by what life had thrown at him. You hated this. You hated yourself for not helping him. Hated his wife for abandoning him. You hated the world for so easily turning their back on him like he was nothing to them.

You slipped from the chair and kneeled in front of him. You grabbed his hands in yours, holding on tight when he tried to slip away. “I’m sorry, Coop, truly. I wasn’t here for you. But I am now, I swear. Let me help you, please.”

He glanced down at you and stared quietly, trying to decide whether he should be an asshole and tell you to fuck off or just accept the help. He had been lonely for a long while now. He needed someone to tell him he was doing okay. That he had done the right thing in getting Barb out of his life. So, he nodded and squeezed your hands back.

“Pancakes?”

You laughed and sat up in bed, glancing over at Cooper while he got dressed. “Is that all you know how to make?” He smiled and crawled back onto bed to plant a hard kiss against your lips.

“You want food or not, smartass?”

You laughed and pressed another quick kiss to his lips, “Please.” He shook his head and walked out of his bedroom and towards the kitchen. You sank back against the pillows and stared blankly up at his ceiling.

You wished there was a title to describe what you were to each other, but you weren’t completely sure yourself. A few weeks after you’d stopped by his house you’d slept together for the first time. And then again and again, and you’d taken to staying at his house more than your own apartment.

You’d worried that you were letting yourself be a rebound after his divorce. Afraid that he was simply going to sleep with you and move on once he’d found something better. But he didn’t treat you like you were something to throw away.

But that doesn’t mean anything when he’s never explicitly stated that he wants something serious with you. You sit up when you hear him padding back down the hall, a tray in his hands. You smile at him and help him settle back in bed.

When you’re done eating you both lay back in bed and you figure you don’t need something definitive for now. You’ll just enjoy what you have while you have him. The shrill ring of the phone jolts you both out of your comfortable state.

He sighs and reaches over to grab it from its place on the nightstand. The cord stretches over you while he leans back and talks to whoever is on the other line. “Hello?” His brow furrows in confusion when the other person began to speak. You can make out their muffled voice but not what they’re saying. You give him a questioning look but he just shrugs and hands you the phone. “It’s for you, sweetheart.”

“Hello?”

Cooper watches you with growing confusion as your face lights up and you shoot out of bed. He sighs, knowing his morning is probably over. He figures he should go ahead and get dressed while you finish up the call.

When he comes out of the bathroom you’re still talking. Your finger is coiled through the cord and you’re pacing a track into his rug. You’ve got a serious expression on your face, listening intently, before you light up once more and let out an eager, “Oh, thank you so much!” You slam the phone back down on the dial and turn to him with an eager smile.

“That was Tom, he’s got a role for me.” Cooper shoots you a happy smile but he can’t help the twinge of jealously in his gut. A few weeks ago some pictures of you two together had been leaked. While your career and offered had considerably slowed, you hadn’t been completely stonewalled by all of Hollywood like he had.

He couldn’t help but resent that at moments, that you still got to live your dream while he was punished for doing what he thought had been right. He wouldn’t let that ruin your mood right now, though. “That’s great, what is it?”

You shrugged, going through the room and quickly changing into a long skirt and blouse. “He couldn’t give me many details over the phone. He wants me to head over to his house to pick up the script real quick.” You ran up to him, planted a quick kiss on his cheek and darted towards the hall. “I’ll be back for lunch,” you called over your shoulder.

Cooper sighed, overwhelmed slightly by your whirlwind of energy. He called out a quick goodbye he wasn’t sure you heard and tried to ignore the nauseating feeling settling in his stomach.

You stared up at Tom’s door, knocking quickly. You were the perfect picture of naïveté, wide-eyed and eager as you waited for him to open the door. When Tom wasn’t directing Nuka-Cola ads he directed only serious movies. The type that only critics liked.

Getting another serious role could really help in getting you back on track. Maybe you could even start helping Coop out, he was going to have to sell the house soon if he didn’t make real money.

The smile on your lips was hard to dismiss as you impatiently waited for the door to open. It didn’t take much longer, you could hear Tom approaching through it and then it was swinging open. He had a wide smile and seemed oddly breathless as he stared at you. “There you are! Come on in, I’ll grab the script.”

Not thinking much of the odd invitation you took a step inside and glanced around. You heard voices in the next room and your smile dropped just a little. “Come on,” he waved you forward when he noticed you had stopped, “I’ll get you something to drink.”

“Oh,” you took a hesitant step forward. “I’m fine, really, I need to get back home pretty quick.” Tom stopped in his tracks and turned around. The look on his face had your hairs standing on end, both of your smiles completely gone now.

“I said come in.” You tried to back up but your back hit something soft. Jumping forward, you turned to find one of the tallest men you’d ever seen towering over you. He pushed forward and you stumbled back, starting to feel real panic settle in.

He kept pushing until you found yourself standing in the middle of a crowded living room. Execs you recognized from meetings with your agent and premieres circled around you like a pack of hyenas. Each of them tittering and laughing, pointing at you with a dangerous gleam in their eyes.

You felt tears pricking your eyes, your gaze darting up to Tom. But he refused to look at you, accepting a large wad of cash from one man and shaking his hand. He spared you one brief glance, a distant regret in his eyes as he walked out the room.

You spun in a quick circle, breaths coming short and fast when the men started to close in on you. One of them grabbed you and you threw your elbow back into his face, it didn’t matter. They were all reaching for you now. Hands snagged on your blouse and the buttons popped open.

You opened your mouth, to scream or bite one of them, you don’t know, it didn’t matter. A large hand clamped around your mouth, forcing you to breathe in the cloth on their palm. You sucked in a sharp breath, something sweet tickling your nose before your eyes were rolling back in your head.

#cooper howard x reader #the ghoul x reader #fallout tv series #fallout x reader #ghoul x reader

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cozykali · 25 days

Text

Heartbeats (Astarion’s POV)

I downloaded Baldur’s gate 3 and immediately feel for this sexy vampire the moment he tackled me to the ground and held a knife to my neck. I’m in act 2 right now (no spoilers!) and the brainrot is BAD. I’ve read some amazing period sex fics involving Astarion but I wanted to craft one from his perspective. Let me know your thoughts!

Master list can be found here!

Pairing: Astarion x fem Tav/reader

Rating: SMUT! NSFW, 18+, Minors DNI

Words: 4700

TW: (this fic is FLITHY), mentions of death and dying, biting (duh), drinking blood, period sex, blood kink, oral (fem receiving), unprotected P in V, kissing, fingers, stalking, multiple Os, passing out, blood-loss, mentions of past torture/trauma, tension, begging, fluffy ending, ‘who did this to you?’,

Notes: Tav and Astarion have been travelling together for a few weeks. No romance scenes have happened yet, but she allows him to feed on her nearly every night. She hasn’t seen his scars yet. Tav is on her period and it’s making her vampire friend go crazy. Tav has feelings for Astarion but hasn’t acted upon them. This story is told from Astarion’s perspective. Tav can be any race or class you want (probably not durge though).

Bonus: Check out this massive playlist I made inspired by Astarion!

The fading fire crackled softly; its once licking flames now reduced to gentle, glowing embers. A thin line of smoke ascends into the damp air that coats the earth in a delicate layer of cool dew.

Astarion lies beside the fire on his bedroll, flat on his back, with his arms slightly splayed at his sides. Most nights, he is grateful that he doesn’t need sleep like his companions do. He can immerse himself in the peaceful sounds of the night, meditate, slow his breath, and calm his mind without slipping into unconsciousness. This ability had saved his life on more than one occasion.

However, tonight is different. Tonight, he wishes for sleep to claim him. He longs to drift away and escape the torment of the spell unknowingly cast upon him by Tav. He turns his head to gaze through the soft light of the fire in her direction.

Tav is laying on her side facing the fire, her mouth slightly open as she emits soft snores barely audible over the crackling flames. But what troubles Astarion tonight is her scent. It wafts through the acrid smoke of the fire like a gentle breeze through a sail, sweet as usual, but it’s currently mixed with blood and musk.

Astarion has been avoiding Tav for the better part of two days now. Whenever she drew near, he held his breath and averted his gaze. He knew he must keep his distance from her, because the alternative would be ripping her apart, which would not win any favors with the rest of the party.

Tav has also been careful around him. She must know that he can sense her menses. Despite inviting him to feed on her each night for nearly two weeks, tonight she did not proposition him, nor the night before. Last night, his attempt to catch a deer had been futile, leaving Tav as his last meal.

Lying on his bedroll, Astarion stares up at the stars, after a seemingly endless eternity for an immortal being, he hears Tav stir slightly. He glances over at her curiously, hoping she doesn’t notice his gaze. She lets out a quiet groan, clutching her lower stomach before curling into a fetal position, her face contorted in pain. Moments later, she slowly starts to rise.

Tav stumbles to fetch a flask of water, guzzling it down greedily. Astarion envies her ease in quenching her thirst while his own thirst rages inside him. Before long, he senses her absence, her scent growing fainter. He debates whether to leave her to sort herself out, but the primal urge to hunt and stalk his prey cannot be ignored.

Rising slowly, Astarion follows her scent through the trees to a nearby stream. His movements are fluid and silent as he approaches her. Tav is kneeling in front of the water, wringing out a blood-soaked cloth.

"Seems such a waste to wash that delicious blood away, darling," Astarion's voice, silky and smooth as velvet, slices through the night like a dagger. Tav lets out a startled squeal, spinning to face him.

"Astarion!" Her voice cracks with surprise as she stumbles back, but his hand shoots out to steady her, his touch cool against the small of her back as he prevents her from falling into the rocky stream.

His gaze is locked onto Tav's eyes, wide with astonishment, her pupils are dilated so only faint rings of color remain around dark voids. With his keen elven senses, he can hear the rapid thrum of her heart beneath her chest. Releasing her gently, Astarion steps back, his posture graceful and poised.

"Sorry, my dear," he says, softening his tone to one less intimidating. "I was merely ensuring no creatures were stalking you in the night as you wandered off. There are far worse dangers in these woods than bears, you know?"

"You mean like you?" Tav's words are sharp, but Astarion detects the faint quiver of her bottom lip.

"I just prevented you from bashing your skull on those wet rocks, and this is the gratitude I receive?" Astarion scoffs.

"I wouldn't have nearly slipped if you hadn't snuck up on me, asshole," Tav retorts, pushing him in the chest, though his feet remain firmly planted.

"Oh, my, you look adorable when you're angry," Astarion can’t help but smirk at her.

Tav lets out a frustrated grunt, attempting to stomp away, but Astarion catches her arm before she can pass him. Confusion clouds her face as she searches for an explanation for his unusual behavior. The facade of his usual sassy indifference had vanished, replaced by a tumult of desire and longing.

"Are you here to bite me?" Tav's voice trembles, strained as if she’s fighting back a scream. "I thought you were better than that. You promised me you wouldn’t feed on me unless I asked you to."

Astarion reaches out and takes the wet cloth from her hand, the hunger gnawing at him like a demon. Shamelessly, he presses it to his face, inhaling deeply. His vision is blurred, his head swimming in the intoxicating scent of her body that lingers on the fabric.

"Astarion, knock it off! You’re freaking me out," Tav snaps, snatching the cloth back and tossing it into the dirt.

"Tav," he whimpers, hating the desperation in his voice. Slowly, he releases her wrist, turning away to pinch his brows in an attempt to ease the splitting headache caused by her overwhelming scent.

"What in the hells is wrong with you?" Tav's voice remains cold, but concern flickers in her eyes as she speaks. She feels sorry for him.

Astarion straightens his stance, clearing his throat. "I apologize that I disturbed you. I’m not thinking straight," he announces before turning to walk back to camp.

"Wait," Tav said, and he freezes.

"I’m sorry I’ve been avoiding you. That I haven’t asked you to bite me the past few nights. I know you must know I’m on my period," she admits, her gaze fixed on the ground. "I didn’t know how you felt about it. I can see now that it’s driving you to madness, but I thought ignoring it was the best course of action. It’s embarrassing, really, and I’m having terrible pains in my stomach."

Astarion closes the distance between them in two swift strides.

"It’s hard to see you like this, so crazed with hunger, and I…" Tav's words falter as Astarion gently places his hand under her chin, lifting her face to meet his.

"Shh, Tav, my sweet. You’re going to put me in a second grave," he murmurs.

To his surprise, Tav presses her face into his with a gentle kiss, and Astarion's eyes close as a deep growl rumbles from his chest.

Tav removes her lips, "I’m sorry that was stupid of me to…" but Astarion wraps his arms around her and pulls her closer, pressing her body against his. He kisses her ravenously. His sharp fangs scrape softly on her bottom lip. A sensation of an unraveling overwhelms Astarion as he kisses Tav. It's a mixture of desire, longing, and perhaps even a hint of vulnerability. This feeling is unfamiliar to him, stirring emotions he's long kept buried beneath his cool exterior.

She relaxes in his arms, sinking deeper into his kiss. Her hand reaches up to ruffle his soft white curls while the other slips under his linen shirt, exploring the ridges and lines of his abdomen.

As they momentarily break their kiss, Astarion feels a rush of dizziness. He gently brushes her hair away from her neck and nuzzles into the curve of her shoulder. His tongue traces the faint marks on her skin, remnants of the nightly feedings he's had days prior. Despite the hunger clawing at him, he restrains himself from indulging further.

His hands, trembling with desire, slide down to the hem of Tav's shirt. He breathes against her ear, his voice a husky whisper, "May I?" Without a word, she responds by lifting her arms, granting him permission. In one smooth motion, he pulls the shirt over her head, revealing her skin. Astarion’s hands cup her breasts. The soft sound she emits as his mouth finds her nipple is music to his ears.

"Please, I need to taste you." He pleas between nibbles and licks on her chest. He no longer feels ashamed by his desperation.

"Oh, Astarion." Tav smiles, "You look so pretty when you beg."

“Gods," he groans, then steps back to remove his shirt before kneeling to the ground in front of her, his pale skin glowing in the moonlight. "Tav," his voice is deep and soft, "I beg you." His hands reach out to grab her waist. "Let me taste you." He rests his forehead softly on her bare stomach. She places her hands on his and slides them down, encouraging him to remove her pants. Astarion is nearly trembling with anticipation as he helps her step out of her garments.

"Hold on," she stops him before he rips off her underwear. The bloodied rag that was freshly changed before he found her, was now soiled again with arousal and blood. "Should we find somewhere more comfortable?" She offers him her hand to help him rise back up.

Astarion feels lightheaded for a moment as he returns to his feet. However, as soon as he regains his balance, he scoops Tav up and carries her with remarkable speed to a clearing near the stream, where the ground is more sand than rocks. He lays Tav down on her back. He crawls towards her slowly, until his thigh is pressed firmly against her sex. As he lowers himself to kiss her once more, he gently hooks his other leg under hers and slides it up slowly, allowing her legs to part for him.

"Astarion?" She whispers to him when their kiss breaks, "You can feed on me tonight if you like."

He doesn’t even recognize the deep, feral growl that escapes his throat in response. "I was so hoping you would say that darling."

Astarion kisses his way down Tav’s stomach. She squirms at the feeling of his fangs brushing lightly on her ribs. He catches the waistband of her undergarments between his teeth and slides them down her legs to remove them.

He stops to hover over Tav for a moment now that she’s fully undressed. He savors the look she’s giving him through hooded eyes. Pausing, he appreciates the beauty of her bare skin splayed before him, relishing her scent before he consumes her.

"You’re too good to me, my pretty thing. I don’t deserve this, and I don’t deserve you." Astarion remarks before his head dips between her legs.

Astarion flattens his tongue and licks her once slowly, bottom to top. Tav tastes unbelievable. It still tastes like her blood, metallic and rich, but it’s enhanced with the flavor of her slick arousal, the must of her sweat, the flesh of her womb. If the blood in her veins is his water, his life source, the blood between her legs is like the finest of wines.

The hums and moans that leave Astarion's throat as he devours her are so animalistic, he can hardly hear Tav’s whines. He licks up every drop until she is clean then sticks his tongue deep inside her searching for more. His nose rubs in a side-to-side motion, pressed firmly against her apex, as his tongue explores.

"Oh gods, Astarion!" Tav gasps. He feels a slight sting on his scalp as she grabs a fistful of his silver curls while rocking her hips to match the speed of his tongue.

"I need more," Astarion rasps. His lips close around her bud He slides two slender fingers inside of her and starts pumping them in and out, coaxing out more blood. Her moans fill his ears like a siren’s song, adding to his pleasure. He can feel her insides tightening around his digits.

"Astarion. I…" Tav’s sentence is cut off by a wail of pleasure. He can smell the ecstasy flooding her blood, hear her heart pounding in her chest, and feel her body spasm and quake where he touches her. He doesn’t change the pace of his tongue or hand, dragging out her orgasm until she is panting and spent. He removes his fingers from her to lick them clean like a cat and notices a small trickle of blood leaking out of her.

"You may have just finished, darling, but I am not done yet. Nothing compares to the sound of my name cried from your lips, and I intend to hear it again." Astarion’s face dips back down to clean her folds. The amount of blood he can get from her body is not nearly enough to fill him. He needs to feed soon, a real meal, a pint of blood or more, not just a taste. But it can wait; the taste is too divine to stop.

Astarion hooks his arms under her thighs and flips onto his back, pulling her with him in one smooth motion. He grabs her hips as he forces her to a sitting position on his face, drinking her in. She shrieks and tries to pull away.

"Astarion, I need a minute. It’s too much." He releases his hands and stares up at her face with mid concern while she hovers over him. He tries to imagine how he looks to her right now.

"Can I ask you to be my mirror again, love?" He recalls the evening Tav found him looking at his empty reflection.

She studies him. "Your pretty face is absolutely covered with blood," she states. "Your lips are puffy and swollen. Your skin is thin and pale, paler than usual. Then there are your eyes…" she pauses, "they’re so red right now that they nearly glow in the light of the stars. There is nothing human, or even elf, left in them. They are the eyes of a monster."

Astarion grins wide, displaying his sharp fangs to her, "I am a monster, dear. Now can you please let me get back to consuming my prey?" His tongue extends from his mouth to lap against her swollen sensitive skin.

Tav tilts her head back and moans, exposing the full length of her gorgeous neck. Her back arches as she lowers herself onto his lips. Astarion grumbles in satisfaction when the taste of her dances on his tongue again. He grabs her thighs, in case she decides to pull away again, but instead she lowers onto him more, smothering him. She rocks against him, rubbing herself against his mouth and nose.

His lungs burn slightly, but he doesn’t need to breathe air to survive; it’s just a matter of an unconscious habit from before he turned into a vampire spawn. He needs air in his lungs to be able to speak, and it’s slightly uncomfortable if his lungs go without air for extended periods of time. He represses the memories of torture he had to endure over the centuries, where Cazador would deprive him of air for days just to watch him struggle. Astarion silently scolds himself for focusing on his lungs when his attention should be on the woman on top of him.

Tav bends her back further and places her hand on his waste to steady herself. Her hand brushes against the swollen bulge in his leather pants. His other primal urge is nothing more than an annoyance compared to his crazed lust to feed. But Astarion doesn’t protest when she starts to pet him through his pants as she continues to use his face like a toy. His pants suddenly feel uncomfortably tight.

"Astarion!" His name sounds like a symphony when it exits her body. She collapses forward, cradling his head with her arms. He drinks her in, savoring all his senses. His hands run up and down her bare thighs that seem to burn with heat. She rolls off him and lands in the sandy dirt of the bank, lying flat on her back beside him. They breathe in sync, shallow and hard.

"Tav, I…" Astarion pants, still laying on his back. "I need to feed."

"I know, I told you that you could. It’s not enough, right? Down there I mean. I figured as much. Why didn’t you just go for my neck in the first place? Why starve yourself on tiny mouthfuls when you can just bite me?"

"The taste," he whispers, "It’s addictive. I can’t stop." He swipes a finger between her legs and places the pad of it against his tongue and groans.

"Astarion?" Tav rolls onto her side to gaze into his eyes. She places her hand against the puncture marks on her neck from his fangs. "Bite me."

Astarion rises to his feet. Stars briefly dance across his vision, then fade. He is again reminded of the throbbing of his groin and decides to remove his confining leather pants and exposes himself to her. It seems only fair to be as naked as she is.

Tav’s eyes bulge and her jaw slacks as she stares at him. She props herself up on her elbows and slowly opens her legs to him. The wanting look she gives him is the closest thing he’ll get to a reflection of his own eyes. He waits, tension coiling in his muscles in anticipation as he searches her expression for the words he longs to hear.

"Darling, I am supposed to be the one looking at you like a feast laid before me, but here you are, looking at me like I’m a fresh baked pie. I could practically wipe away your drool." He smirks down at her. His hand lazily strokes his length to tease her.

Tav's lips form the word "Please," her voiceless plea echoing in the quiet night.

"Please what, my pet?" Astarion teases, his voice low and filled with anticipation, as he listens to the rapid rhythm of her heart, quickening like a drumbeat.

"Please. I want you to bite me while you fuck me." Her voice deepens, her eyelids are heavy with lust. Astarion’s stomach flips, and he pounces onto her like a fox catching a mouse.

"Such a filthy little mouth you have." He tuts. While he arranges himself over Tav. It's a familiar position that they have practiced nearly every night since she invited him to feed on her, only this time they are skin to skin. His face lingers over her neck, his breath cools her blazing skin. The tip of his shaft is posed at her entrance. She bucks her hips in response, and he sinks into her partially, then withdrawals.

"You are mine." Astarion whispers into her neck. Pressing his lips to the partially healed wound from his last bite as he enters her again, sinking his entire length into her. Tav cries out in response, but he doesn’t move.

"Astarion, please," She whines. He raises himself onto the palms of his hands to look at her. Her eyes are glossy, tears are forming in the corners.

"Tav, Darling, you look so pretty when you beg." He echoes her earlier words. He wishes he could hold out a little longer to see how far he could tease her until she breaks, but his need to feed is too intense. He starts slowly pumping in and out. Her eyes close and her mouth opens wide in pleasure. She feels amazing, so tight, so soft, so wet with blood and arousal.

Tav places her hands on Astarion’s back and digs her nails in, only to pull away quickly when she feels the bumps of the scars she hasn’t yet seen. She opens her mouth to mention it but he quickly covers it with his blood stained lips. His tongue slips past her lips and moves with the same rhythm of his thrusts. She moans into his mouth as his pace quickens. Then he breaks her kiss to purr into her ear, ‘Do you taste yourself on my lips, beautiful? It’s delicious, isn’t it? You taste divine.’

Tav shivers beneath him and lets out a sob. His lips brush down her neck. Astarion snarls to expose his sharp, elongated canines then grazes them against her throat, ready to strike. His thrusts never stop, slamming into her repeatedly, as he finally sinks his teeth into her neck and sucks her blood.

"Oh fuck, Astarion!" Tav releases a scream and falls apart under him. Shaking and panting while grinding against him. He can taste the electricity of her climax surge through her blood as her heart beats with a steady rhythm, allowing the blood to flow through her veins until it reaches his mouth. Astarion feels a rush stronger than any drug, more enchanting than any spell or potion. Her walls spasm around him, while he slurps against her neck. He sucks her blood with intense force. Pinning her under him. He can’t stop.

After several moments of bliss, he notices she has gone completely still beneath him. It takes all his willpower to unlatch his fangs before he sits up quickly.

"Shit’." A wave of panic washes over Astarion as he inspects Tav. Her skin appears paler, almost gray. Her breaths come slow and shallow, and her heartbeat is faint and stuttering. Without hesitation, he scoops up her limp body and wades into the waist-deep waters of the nearby stream, gently lowering her in. The water feels warm against his skin, though he himself is generally cooler than most creatures. He hopes the temperature doesn’t send her body further into shock.

As he holds her in the water, Astarion's mind races with worst-case scenarios. He imagines having to speak with Withers to revive her, dreading the thought of explaining his actions to the rest of the camp. Tav won’t easily forgive him this time, he fears. He might be cast out or even killed. He curses himself for following her out here in the first place. She was right to avoid him these past few days.

Just as he begins to entertain thoughts of escape, Tav’s soft voice cuts through his spiraling thoughts. "Star?"

Relief floods through him. "Oh, thank the gods, Tav. I’m truly sorry. I got a little carried away." He holds her tighter against his chest, feeling her shiver against him.

"Cold," Tav manages to say, her voice barely above a whisper. Astarion carries her out of the water and gently sets her down in a patch of soft grass. He hurries to gather their scattered clothes, helping her dress into her pants and shirt. He wraps his own rumpled white shirt around her for extra warmth, then puts on his pants before rinsing the remaining blood from his face in the stream.

Returning to her side, Astarion finds her hugging her legs, the color slowly returning to her face. "Let’s get you back to camp near the fire. I’ll wake Shadowheart to see if she can heal you," he suggests, wrapping his arm around her.

Tav turns to him, her voice airy and soft. "No, I think I'll manage until morning." Astarion kisses her forehead as she embraces him, her hands rubbing slow circles on his back.

"Turn around," Tav demands, and he complies, allowing her to view the intricate scars covering his entire back. She traces them with her fingers. "What happened to you?" Her voice carries a tone of pity, and Astarion swallows a lump in his throat.

"It’s a poem," He explains calmly. "Cazador did it to me. He took his time. I don’t know what it says."

"Oh, Astarion, I’m so sorry," Tav responds with compassion that almost irritates him.

"You’re sorry?" Astarion snaps, turning to face her. "I nearly killed you tonight, and you’re sorry?" He immediately regrets the sharpness of his words. "No, Tav, I’m sorry." Pulling her into him, he collapses to the ground, and she lays her head on his bare chest.

‘Astarion, I…’ Tav starts to speak.

"Hush," he interrupts, holding a finger to her lips. "Listen." He tunes into the sounds of the environment around them—the rustling of tree branches in the breeze, the chirping of insects in the reeds, the rushing of water in the nearby stream. But the sound he wants her to hear isn’t external; it’s coming from within him. After several seconds, she jerks her head up from his chest to meet his eyes.

"Did… did I just hear your heart?" Her voice is filled with astonishment. "You have a heartbeat?" Her brows furrow in confusion as she searches his face for answers. "Is that another side effect of the tadpole? Like how you can walk in the sun?"

Astarion smiles at her. "Yes, you heard my heart beating. No, it’s not from the worm in my head. It’s from you, darling."

"What? How?" Tav’s confusion deepens.

‘Well, when I feed, especially if it’s a big meal, my body must circulate the fresh blood throughout it somehow. And in case you weren’t aware, I’ll give you a little anatomy lesson. I need blood in a certain area of the body to give you a performance like I did back there."

She stares at him in shock "So your heart will kickstart when you're full, or horny?"

"In simple terms, yes dear, and I do feel both of those right now. However, it only beats a couple times a minute, not like a living creature. Have you noticed the color return to my skin, and that my temperature is at least five degrees warmer than usual?"

Tav smiles softly as she lays her head back on his chest in silence, waiting to hear a soft thump again. "I can make your heartbeat," she whispers.

"Well Tav, it seems my heart belongs to you now," Astarion sighs. "I’ve never felt anything like that before. I’m practically drunk on you right now. When I told you were my first bite, I meant it and now I can’t imagine drinking the blood of anyone else. Not like I have many options anyways, no one else is exactly offering me their neck." She smacks him softly, and he lets out a chuckle before his face softens with worry.

"I don’t think it’s safe to do that again, though," He grumbles. "I nearly lost you." Tav looks up at him with sadness in her eyes. "I mean I would happily bed you again," Astarion continues, "and I still wish to feed on you if you allow it, once you're replenished, but I think we should keep dinner and sex separate from now on."

Tav scoots up to kiss his neck. Then rises to her knees and straddles him. Her hair forms a halo around her face as she looks down at him.

"What is Withers there for if we don’t use him once and a while. Plus, we have at least ten revival scrolls in the chest at the camp."

His heart beats again, slightly harder than the last time. "Are you giving me permission to suck you dry? You filthy little pup." His hands grab her rear, and he squeezes. "How did I get so lucky? Getting abducted by mind flayers seems to have been the best thing that has ever happened to me."

"I mean, I've never felt anything like that either. When you were draining me of blood, I let it happen, I didn’t want it to stop. I was in a daze as I slipped away. To be clear, I don’t think the others will approve of paying 200 gold coins to Withers, or wasting revival scrolls that could be used during a fight, every time I come to your bed, but if it happens… I trust you to bring me back. I guess my heart belongs to you now too. Since it pumps the blood through me that keeps you alive and thriving."

Astarion inhales deeply. "Well in that case, darling," his hand reaches up to grab her neck and he pulls her head down so her ear touches his lips "I think you're beating me three-nil in climaxes this evening. And I intend to double your score at the very least, and maybe get a point on the board myself before the sun rises." He glances down and notices a blood stain seeping through her pants onto his. He realizes didn't put her underwear back on nor replace her blood rag when he dressed her earlier. "Also, it looks like you might need a little cleaning up again, my love."

END

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some-bunniii · 1 month

Text

Lucifer saves you from a cult

・❥ You’re about to be sacrificed for a satanic ritual, until a handsome, charming stranger comes to your rescue.

~9.5k words

x: reader is g/n, no use of y/n. wanted to play around with the cult concept again, but this time much less angsty. had fun with this one, hope you enjoy!

warning: sexual themes, cult stuff

The first thing you remembered when you awoke, blind and dazed, was the thick, musty scent of damp earth.

The air tasted stagnant on your tongue, as you parted your lips to wet the cracked, delicate skin. Throat dry, quenched of thirst, and stomach growling softly, you lifted your cheek from the cold dirt.

Where were you? How did you get here?

The fabric against your eyes prevented you from recognizing anything in your surroundings, the only object visibly present was the warm, orange glow that peeked through the blindfold tied around your head. It flickered with life, a dancing light that you could only guess was a lamp of some kind.

Thin, plastic restraints kept your wrists bound tightly behind your back, dull pain radiating from where they dug into your skin.

Dull pain radiated from where they dug into your skin. For a few moments, you laid perfectly still, using your remaining senses to listen for anyone or anything in the vicinity. Still, you were rewarded with nothing and no clue of your whereabouts.

Slowly, you rolled onto your back and awkwardly shifted to sit on your knees. You turned your head, facing the dull light flickering softly behind the cloth against your eyes. What now? Head towards the light, or away from it?

Your breath quickened, heart pounding as the situation began to settle in your mind. Someone kidnapped you, bound you, and then left you here in the dark for whatever gruesome fate was coming. Unless this was some kind of weird surprise party pulled by a friend, there was no way whoever was near had good intentions.

Almost on cue, footsteps echoed somewhere far off to your right, closing in on your location. You tensed, holding in a breath as you shrunk to the ground. Then, a second set of footsteps entered the vicinity, closing in on your location.

They seemed to have arrived somewhere right in front of you, but were obscured by something, perhaps a wall as the footsteps halted.

“Hail Satan,” A low, masculine voice echoed into your ears.

“Hail Satan,” the other replied, as if in greeting, “Is the sacrifice ready?”

What did he say? Satan? Sacrifice?

“Yes,” the other hissed with delight, “Once we finish the preparations at the main chamber, we will deliver them cleansed and ready to the prophet.”

Were they talking about you?

“Let's hope this year turns out to be successful, we’ve already sacrificed the lamb already” the other grumbled, shifting beneath a large “Good job keeping an eye out all night, but Brother Erik has requested your presence. He is waiting for us near the goat pen.”

“Of course. The sleeping agent we used was highly potent, they shouldn’t awaken for another couple of hours,” the man replied, and you heard footsteps receding from the scene, the shuffling of gravel fading in the distance as you exhaled a breath of relief.

This was bad, really bad. You needed to get out of here, now.

Leaning forward, your forehead hit the ground as you dragged your face across the dirt. The blindfold was forcibly peeled off your eyes, and they flew open as soon as you rose back onto your knees. You blinked, turning your head to observe the strange scene, heart pounding.

Rough, stone walls encircled you, the small torch attached to the wall cast orange light across the room, revealing a row of large barrels and wooden boxes marked with strange symbols. You were in a cave, these strange men dragged you underground?

There didn’t seem to be anything to break your bindings, and the only way out was a small human-sized gap in the rocks that glowed softly with the same orange light as the torch nearby. Maybe, if you were careful enough, you’d be able to slip away undetected and find a way out.

Slowly you rose unsteadily to your feet, taking a final, deep breath as you took a step toward the cave's exit. There were definitely torches outside, and from what you could see the walls were still rocky. A tunnel? It would be difficult with your hands bound, but at least it would be lit and you could use the torches as a guide.

Right as you crossed the threshold, your body connected with another equally firm, but squishy being as they ran into you with surprised oof.

You froze for a moment, your brain kicking into survival mode and your body instinctively using a leg to shove the stranger backwards, before reeling away.

“Don’t come any closer!” You shouted, and the hooded figure jumped at your outburst, raising his hands towards you and shaking his head vigorously as you stumbled backward.

“Shhhhh!” He hissed, his yellow gaze practically glowing from underneath the dark hood as he advanced on you quickly, “They are going to hear us!”

Your back hit the wall, and you winced in pain as jutted rocks dug into your back. That was the least of your concerns though, as you opened your mouth to scream again right as the robed man reached you, before he lifted a hand to clamp around your mouth.

His palm was warm, hot to the touch even as they were planted firmly against your lips. His face was inches from yours, but in the barely lit room, it was just his usual-colored eyes that you could make out underneath the hood.

“Just keep quiet while I—”

You didn’t give your attacker time to get any closer, before you parted your lips and jerked your head harshly to the side. You chomped mercilessly down onto his skin, his fingers in between your teeth as you thrashed.

The hooded figure yelped, pulling his hand away from your face with furrowed brows as his gaze flicked from his hand to your angry figure.

“You bit me!” He cried, rubbing his fingers with a small frown as you rose to your feet, arms still bound behind your back as you glared at him with ferocity.

“And I’ll do it again!” You retorted, straightening your posture as you rose to full height.

“Quiet! I’m trying to help you!” He whispered, turning his head to check the open doorway before meeting your gaze again.

“Help me? Dressed like that?” You laughed, your eyes lowering to the upside-down cross tied around his neck and the pentagram sewn on the sleeves of his robe.

“I know, I know, it looks bad,” The stranger growled at himself, backing away closer to the torch to give you space, “But, if you turn around so I can get those bindings off you, I can prove I’m here to help.”

“You really expect me to turn my back to you?” You laughed in disbelief.

“If you don’t want to, I can just… leave,” He finally shrugged.

“Leave?”

“Yep, out that doorway right there,” he pointed behind him, and the glow from the torch nearby was beginning to reveal his features, and you could see the hint of a smile on his face.

Was he really being truthful? Fuck, it was a 50/50 shot. You bit your lip painfully, deep in thought. Finally, you sighed, facing the rock wall away from the stranger, your wrists exposed to him.

You felt the hairs on your forearms raise like static, before you felt its familiar, painful tiny shock against your wrists. You flinched just as the bindings snapped, slipping from your raw skin onto the ground beneath.

You gasped softly, freedom finally in your grasp as you lifted your hands to rub at the stinging marks rubbed into your skin.

He was closer, now, but not close enough to cut your restraints. That was odd, did you bite him that hard he backpedaled as soon as you were free?

“See? No harm done?” He smiled innocently at you, before he backed away to the cave’s entrance.

Slowly, you followed, taking closer and closer steps towards the figure, mind racing.

What if you bolted? Pretend to follow the man and make a mad dash for the exit as soon as the chance arose. You could outrun a couple of satanic-worshiping old geezers, couldn’t you?

Except, he promised to help you, and seeing as you took a nasty chomp at his hand and he was still trying to free you… maybe, sticking close to this guy wasn’t too bad of an idea.

As you neared the entrance, the stranger turned to you, and the torchlight finally lit up his face. You almost stopped dead with shock, as your eyes traced over his features.

His porcelain skin practically glowed in the dim environment, like starlight on fresh snow. You’ve never seen a man so white before, and never so gorgeous either. His supple, plump lips curved slightly at your reaction, a hint of amusement in those odd, yellow eyes that seemed to suck you in without resistance.

A few strands of sun-kissed hair stuck out from the hood of his robe, and they curled delicately against his forehead, splayed messily. Have you ever seen such blond locks either?

And, was he wearing makeup? Those rosy-red spots on his cheek looked like a bad application of blush, as they stuck out like twin targets from his pearlescent complexion. Even with those odd cheek spots, it only accentuated his ethereal, otherworldly aura.

“Are you okay?” Pretty Boy’s words broke you from your thoughts, and you stopped mindlessly rubbing at your wrists. You halted right in front of him, his small figure blocking the way as you met his gaze.

“Sorry?” You finally asked.

Slowly, he lifted a finger and reached it towards the painful, thin outline of the tight binds that had bound you for most of the evening.

“Does it hurt?” He whispered, his brows furrowed with an unreadable expression. Anger? Pity? You weren’t quite sure as you stood there frozen, his finger just about to brush against your skin.

You could practically feel the warmth radiating off his figure, a wave of serenity washed over you, and you made no move to pull away. Your savior didn’t make it very far before he hesitated pulling back his hand before exhaling a deep breath. He reached into his robe and extended a neatly folded twin outfit towards you, beckoning for you to take it.

“Here, put this on. It’ll keep your face hidden as we move.”

You wanted to open your mouth, ask him about his hesitancy, but instead you silently took the garment from his frame and slipped it on. The robe was scratchy, but you weren’t going to complain as you lifted the thick hood over your head and pulled it forward to settle right above your eyes.

“Perfect,” The stranger smiled reassuringly at you, before turning towards the doorway, “Now come on, let’s get going before they notice you’re gone.”

“Who are you?” The words left your lips as you stayed frozen in place, watching the man intensely as he halted in his tracks.

“Oh, right, let’s rewind here,” he laughed, pivoting on his heel to face you, bowing slightly, “My name is Lou, not short for anything, just Lou.”

Lou. That was a cute name.

“What about you?”

“Get me out of this hellhole, Lou, and I’ll give you my social security number,” you responded dryly, brushing past him to poke your head out of the gap of the cave's entryway.

“Feisty, aren’t we?” he quirked a brow, his lips curving into a playful smile, “I respect your determination to live.”

You turned your head slightly to shoot the handsome man a glare, before you strained your ears, listening for any of hints human activity.

The tunnels were dimly lit, save for the glow from the torches nailed to the sides of the tunnel. You could hear conversations in the distance, echoing against the tunnel's walls as they reached your ears. Lou stuck his head out next to you, glowing eyes squinting as he stared down the darkened pathways.

“I think we’re good, let's go,” He whispered, before slipping past you and into the tunnel. With one last, shaky breath, you followed Lou out into the cavernous hall.

“Why are we going toward the voices?” You questioned quietly, inching closer to him for comfort as the two of you strolled down the tunnel.

“Your prison is on the farthest side of the main cave’s entrance,” he replied, turning his head to meet your gaze, “We’ll have to cross through a couple of crowded rooms before we can get out of here, but don’t worry, I know how everything works around here. We’ll be fine.”

You didn’t reply, instead lifting your gaze towards the cave’s ceiling. Jagged, branching rocks hung like icicles above your head, glowing faintly with orange light from the torches below. How easily could these things break off and fall? Would they bring you a quicker death than at the hands of the cultists?

“The cave system goes way deeper than just these smaller tunnels, ” Lucifer continued as he kept pace beside you, “These guys basically hit the jackpot when their founder first discovered the place an odd hundred-something years ago, haven’t let go of it since.”

“They’ve been doing this for a while?” you whispered hoarsely.

How many people have been murdered inside these tunnels, forced to endure such pain and torture just to please some make-believe goat-man that frolics around in a pit of fire and death? The delusion was unmatched, and the inhumanness even more.

“Oh, yeah!” Lou nodded, recounting the memories of his past attendings, “It’s like Coachella, but for cultists. They gather from all over the place to worship beings of indescribable evils and partake in all different kinds of rituals. Much more than just the human sacrifices, like the–”

“–you’re telling me you come here, again and again, to witness these human sacrifices?” Your head snapped in Lou’s direction, an icy glare meeting his widening eyes as he clamped his mouth shut.

“Well, yes—but no!” Lou shook his head vigorously, taking a step backward as you strode forward, anger reignited in your gaze as you bared your teeth.

“How do I know you’re not going to kill me?” You continued to advance towards Lou, pointing an accusatory finger towards him.

“What?!” He sputtered.

“For all I know, you could be leading me to my death!” Your voice was shaky, the weight of the situation dawning on you with the realization everything here was real, not some crazy dream.

“B-but I saved you!” Lou pressed himself flush against the rock wall as you closed the distance, practically chest-to-chest with the man. He tensed at your proximity, breath hitched with wide eyes at your looming figure.

“So?” You growled, taking a finger and jabbing him in the chest, and his frown deepened, “This could be one final cruel, sick joke to bring my guard down before you tie me to a stake! Can’t slaughter the cattle when they're scared, right? Or else it poisons the meat!”

God, he was so good-looking up close. It distracted your verbal attack on Lou just for a moment as you felt the temptation to see how much better it would get if you ripped that stupid hood from his head.

It felt like some otherworldly power was pulling you to stare dumbly at his perfect features. As if he was some kind of siren beckoning you to take a closer look. If you did get any closer, however, you’d practically be lip-to-lip with him. Which, if you were being honest, didn’t sound like such a bad idea…

An invisible hand lifted to slap you hard across the face, before waggling a finger at your lack of self-respect. Why were you thinking about this?! You were about to die and the only thing on your mind was how good-looking this guy was!

“I know you’re scared,” Lou’s soft words broke the silence. You tensed, finger still mid-jab against his chest as he met your gaze.

“This must be a lot for you to take in,” he continued, taking a small step forward from the cavern wall, his brows furrowed in anguish, “But I promise, I don't come here to party with these sickos. I sneak in here to save the people that they kidnap, like you.”

Is that why those cultists were hoping the sacrificial ritual would go smoothly tonight? Had Lou been sabotaging their plans year after year?

The anger drained from your face, and you took a deep breath, trying to calm your nerves. You needed to pull yourself together, lest you wanted some cultist to find you having a mental breakdown or murdering someone out in the open like this.

“I’m here to help you. Please, just let me help.” Lou continued, and you met his gaze again.

Slowly, he lifted a hand, a gesture of peace, a physical promise that you would live to see morning. You looked at the much darker appendage with hesitation, your eyes flicking to Lou and then back to his hand.

“Trust me?” Lou pleaded, the tone in his voice sounded genuine, and kind as he stared at you with round, puppy-dog eyes. It was becoming increasingly hard to deny such a pretty face, and you sighed softly in defeat.

Slowly, you reach out and slip your fingers into his palm. His thumb lifted to grip your wrist softly, and you flinched slightly in pain. Lou withdrew his digit instantly, growling softly to himself at your reaction before his fingers wrapped around your thumb and forefinger in an awkward, clumsy handhold.

That familiar, soothing warmth from his touch was welcoming, as it seeped into your skin and sent you another dose of serenity. Your racing heart began to slow as Lou tugged you moving again.

Then, you heard voices growing louder at the end of the tunnel, near a large crack in the wall that seemed to be an entrance to another cave. Two shadows loomed around the small corner, and you held your breath, head lowered as they came into view. Lucifer squeezed your hand reassuringly, before two matching robed figures strolled past.

“Hail Satan,” the men greeted in unison.

“Hail Satan,” Lou replied in a deepened, masculine tone. Even in such a tense moment, the surprise at how dorky he sounded had you smiling underneath the hood.

The cultists passed by with no suspicions, and you sighed softly with relief, confidence slowly gaining. As long as you keep your head down, keep your identity concealed, the rest of the cultists won’t question a thing. Not to mention, if Lou was telling the truth about coming here for years, he knew how to best placate these freaks if the time came.

Soon, the two of you came upon a large opening, an entrance to another, much larger cave than the one you had been held in. You could see large flames flickering inside the room, voices reverberating against the rock. A few figures sat near the entryway, but slowly slipped inside the cave as you and Lou rounded the corner.

The voices grew louder, speaking in an ominous, strange tongue that made goosebumps erupt across your skin. Prayers of some kind as you saw bodies bent low to the ground, all facing something hidden behind the cavern’s walls.

Sweat was pooling in your palm, and you began to breathe heavily at the proximity of such a large group of robed men chanting softly inside. Their synchronized, baritone prayers rang in your ears, and your heart only quickened its pace.

An entire room full of these guys? This was a little much. You imagined just sneaking down the tunnel and being home free, not coming face to face with the entire cult. Could you really keep up a believable act that you were one of them?

Lou’s head twisted to watch you hyperventilate softly, your eyes zeroed in on the entryway as your thoughts raced. His brows furrowed, and his free hand began to dig inside his robe. After a few moments, his fingers wrapped around something small as he pulled his hand out and lifted his head to meet your gaze.

“Here, take this,” Lou extended an enclosed fist towards you, and your brows furrowed just as he revealed the object snug in his palm.

It was a yellow rubber ducky, like those old toys you used to play with in the bathtub. It stared at you with a permanent, frozen-beaked smile, innocent to the dark, sinister atmosphere circling the trio.

“... What is that?” You tilted your head, smiling slightly at the odd reveal.

“Just a little trinket of my creation,” Lou replied, holding it farther towards you, “I always bring this little guy along with me on trips up here, but I think you need it more than me right now.”

Your eyes widened slightly, gaze flicking from Lou’s large, shark-like smile–which was weird, but not the weirdest thing you’ve seen tonight–to the rubber duck in his hand.

Slowly, you reached forward, wrapping your fingers around the toy. Your skin softly brushed against Lou’s as you retracted your hand, before inspecting the little yellow duck.

Did he notice your anxiety about going inside? You were surprised Lou was being so caring, giving you something personal of his to help ease your nerves. Why would he bring this with him to places like this? Did he bring them for people like you, or him?

You squeezed your fingers around the duck’s little body, and as the air expelled from out of its mouth, it quacked softly, barely echoing against the rocks. You squeezed it again right as you inhaled, and released the duck when you exhaled. Slowly, you began to control your breathing and settle your racing heart. You pushed the negative thoughts out of your mind, before looking up to Lou.

“Did you say you made this?”

“Yes, It’s no big deal, though,” he shrugged bashfully, averting his gaze, “Just something I tweak on whenever I’m bored, nothing special.”

“Well, I think it's… cute.” You said slowly, brushing a thumb over the duck’s head.

“Really?” His lips curved upward, his eyes moving from your hand to meet your genuine gaze,

“Yes, and impressive. I could never do something like this, especially making the squeak sound so similar to a quack.” you nodded, matching his smile.

“It does more than just quack!” He said excitedly, a playful glint in his eye, “But first, we have to get out of here.”

You nodded, tucking the ducky underneath your sleeve as Lou turned toward the entryway. You followed him up the large crevice, before slipping inside.

Tall fires licked at the air on either side of the large cavern. Robed men sat in neat, organized lines, their bodies lowered to the ground, heads bowed submissively towards the large painting on the wall.

It depicted a white-furred goat, standing on two hooves, overlooking a sea of fire that expanded out into the distance. His horns were large, and they wrapped around his ears like a ram as his sinister red eyes stared into your soul.

Your fingers wrapped tighter around the rubber ducky inside your sleeve, and you tentatively squeezed it. It barely made an audible noise compared to the chorus of voices, and you began to use it as a fidget toy to calm your rising nerves.

You averted your gaze from the painting, head lowering slightly as you scooched between kneeling bodies along the back wall, hand still entwined with Lou’s as he slipped past the robed figures.

“Is that supposed to be Satan? The guy that rules Hell and everything?” You whispered to Lou, who stopped in his tracks to face you.

“Well, no. Satan doesn’t rule Hell, Lucifer does,” He sighed, shaking his head, “I mean, I understand these people choosing the ugly one to rule a place like that, but seriously, if you’re going to dedicate your entire life to worshiping a guy, make sure you’re at least getting the name right.”

‘I wonder what Lucifer looks like in comparison, but I'm sure anything would be better looking than that thing,’ you thought, glancing back at the demonic goat-man wall painting with a quirked brow.

“Satan would also make a terrible ruler,” Lou continued, turning away from you to continue sneaking through the worshippers, “It would be like putting a pyromaniac in charge of a fireworks facility, chaos ensues… and not the fun kind.”

You weren’t going to question why he seemed so matter-of-fact about that, as the two of you made it to the other side of the cavern, near another exit.

A small group of robbed men were passing by, and as you scooted over to give them room to pass by, one of them rammed into you, shoving you back by your shoulder to make room.

You were about to turn on your heel and snap at the man, before you felt Lou tug you faster through the remaining crowd.

“Watch out,” he teasingly called to the man behind you, but quiet enough for only you to hear, “They bite!”

You resisted the urge to elbow Lou in the side, and instead shot him a playful glare, trying to hide the upward curve of your lips. He only snickered softly, pulling you through the exit and out of that dreadful cave.

“There, that wasn’t so bad, right?” Lou turned to you, smiling softly as he released your hand.

That comforting warmth left your skin and something deep down whined for his touch again. You shook those thoughts away as you met his gaze, nodding in agreement.

“Yes, I thought they were going to be much more suspicious. Is that the last cave we have to go through?”

“We have like.. two more?” Lou said, partially to himself as he recalled the route, “It shouldn’t be much longer, don’t worry.”

You groaned internally, adjusting the hood around your head before following Lou down the tunnel. At one point, he had taken one of the torches from the wall, holding it in his hand as the two of you walked along the quiet path.

“Do you make anything else than these ducks?” You filled the silence, your thumb absentmindedly brushing against the plastic body of the toy in your sleeve.

“I used to,” Lou replied after a moment, his chipper tone dampening slightly, “More than just silly toys. I once created great things that benefited the entirety of humanity, until…”

“Until?” You prodded gently.

“Let's just say some things don’t turn out how we expect them to,” he replied somberly.

You couldn’t see his face, but you were sure he was frowning underneath the hood. If you would have known that topic was a sour spot for him, you wouldn’t have brought it up. Lou’s face was so handsome with a smile, your brain was prodding for you to do something about it.

You opened your mouth to speak, to say something at least. Words weren’t able to leave your lips before another large crack in the wall, followed by the sound of deep voices once more came into view.

The opening was glowing a bright orange, a much larger fire flickering inside the cavern as Lou slowed right before the entrance. Thunder erupted from the cave, and you jumped. Listening for a few moments longer, you realized the sound was emanating from large drums inside. They boomed in rhythm with the strange chorus reaching your ears from the entrance.

They were so loud the floor was vibrating softly beneath your feet, and you struggled to understand Lou when he turned to you, speaking something before slipping into the cave. Hastily, you followed him through the crevice, slipping past the jutting rocks that pulled against your garment.

“Wait!” You wrapped your fingers around the fabric of Lou’s robe, halting his movements rights you passed through the threshold.

As you stepped into the cavern, the heat from the large fire washed over you, and the rhythmic beat of drums pounded in your chest. The air was thick with the scent of burning wood, and something else indescribable, something primal that made the hair along your arms rise.

Before you was a scene straight out of a horror movie. Robed figures swayed and danced around the towering flames in the center of the cavern, their movements erratic yet somehow synchronized. Their robes, adorned with demonic symbols and intricate patterns, billowed around them as they moved.

There were so many cultists partaking in whatever weird, dancing ritual they were performing that the moving crowd stretched to the walls. There would be no slipping by this time, and you gulped softly at the sight.

Lou watched you silently, an unreadable expression on his pretty face as you turned to meet his gaze.

“The fastest way to get through here is to join them. We should hurry, I’m sure they’ve noticed you’re gone by now.”

Join them? As in, dance with these weirdos until you reach the other side of the cave?

You were about to laugh, pat Lou on the shoulder for the good joke, until you saw his face. It was dead serious, save for the way his lip was beginning to curve upwards into a playful smirk.

“Sorry to burst your bubble, but I can’t dance,” you shook your head with a humorless laugh, slowly backing towards the mouth of the chamber, “This is crazy, I’m not going out there.”

The chanting of baritone voices filled your ears as spinning, cloaked figures circled the large fire, completely entranced in their satanic waltz as Lucifer’s smirk widened.

“Don’t worry, I got this,” he spoke confidently, wrapping gentle fingers around your hands as he tugged you forward, closer to the dancing circle.

For a moment you thought of fighting back and ripping your hands free from his grasp, bolting out of the cavernous room and far away from any robes for the rest of your life. Except, you probably had zero chance at getting out of here without Lou, the handsome man dead set on joining whatever kind of hellish scene was in front of you.

That playful glint in Lou’s eyes only made the adrenaline pump harder through your veins. Something deep inside of you was willing for you to follow the handsome stranger’s command, to prove to him that you weren’t a sack of potatoes he had to heft all the way to the exit.

“You’re going to regret this,” you frowned, your face as serious as possible as you finally relented to his tugging.

“Is that a promise?” Lou smiled mischievously, fingers gently intertwined with yours as he pulled you into the mass of robes.

As the pulsating rhythm of the chanting engulfed the chamber, Lucifer and you found yourselves swept into a whirlwind of movement. The flames leaped high, casting eerie shadows on the walls as the cloaked figures spun around the fire.

With a twinkle in his eyes, Lou guided you effortlessly through the dance, his movements fluid and graceful. Despite your initial reluctance, you couldn't help but be swept up in the energy of the moment, your body moving in sync with his.

It was as if whatever spell the rest of the dancers were under finally had you in its grasp, beckoning you to enjoy the sacred dance.

Around you, the cultists swirled and twirled, their voices rising in fervent devotion to their dark deity. You ignored them, your attention solely upon the pearlescent face that was only a few inches from your own, as he spun with you like two seniors soaking up their last high school dance during prom.

A loose rock resting on the dirt floor caused you to stumble on your feet, and you fell backward with a yelp. A firm hand caught you, fingers splayed across the middle of your back as you lifted your eyes to meet Lou’s handsome features.

“Don’t worry, I gotcha,” He winked, pulling you back onto your feet after a moment. You rolled your eyes playfully, before continuing your rhythmic swaying around the fire.

As you danced with Lou, laughter bubbled up from deep within you, a sense of exhilaration coursing through your veins. His hand in yours felt warm and reassuring, anchoring you to the moment as you lost yourself in the dance.

Your steps may have been clumsy and slow, but Lou didn’t take notice, his features alight with amusement, as he pulled you closer toward him.

“See? Not too bad.” He grinned, his chest bumping against yours as he spun you again, and that laughter finally left your lips with a shake of your head.

You lifted your head to stare into those golden orbs of his, a wordless siren’s song taking hold of you again as your eyes lowered to those soft, supple lips of his.

If the atmosphere around you wasn’t whispering your demise, you might have done something brazen like capture his lips in their own dance.

“Only because you’re doing most of the work,” you teased instead, a genuine smile gracing your features.

Lou must have noticed your lightning demeanor, because his eyes only softened and he matched your smile. One of his hands lowered to your waist, and this time you felt you were dancing with your prince charming across a ballroom as he slowed his pace to let you drink in the moment.

For a brief minute, all thoughts of danger and fear were forgotten, replaced by the pure joy of movement and companionship. As the fire crackled and the chants reached a crescendo, you and Lucifer danced on, united in a shared moment of defiance against the darkness that surrounded you.

Your eyes lifted to the other crevice in the cave, the two of you having successfully danced to the other side of the room, one step closer to making it out of here alive. You perked, joy overcoming you as you pulled Lou along out of the crowd and through the exit.

The much narrower tunnel was empty save for the two of you, as your hands hesitantly released each other. Lou walked over to the wall, a torch flickering softly attached to the jutting rocks as he lifted a hand and pulled it free from the tight clasp.

“Shall we continue?” He smiled, raising the torch slightly above his head to light the way as you caught up to join him.

Your pace was faster now, the night growing darker and the urgency growing every minute you stayed in this underground base of cultists.

The two of you crossed through a few winding tunnels, passing other caves on the route. Some were dark, quiet just like your prison had been, while others were filled with voices and laughter. Thankfully, there was only one cave left you’d need to get through before you could be home free.

All that was on your mind was to wrap yourself in the soft covers of your bed and hibernate the rest of the week away. After this, you could live without any human interaction for a couple of months, maybe forever. Except... The only company from tonight you wanted to hang on to was Lou’s.

Would it be weird if you asked for his number? Invited him for some coffee at a later time? No, that was weird. He was your savior, not some Tinder match waiting for the first date.

These cheek-flushing thoughts kept you busy for the next few minutes, as Lou guided you through the rocky maze. He was quiet, his eyes darting to every cave opening and corner, his ears straining for any footsteps or lone wanderer.

The silence between the two of you was peaceful, giving you time to think about recent events.

“Why do they want to sacrifice me?” You said after a few moments.

“It’s pretty simple, actually,” Lou started, scratching his chin, “First, they sacrifice a newborn lamb, which is supposed to create a portal from Hell to the living world, so that a demonic spirit can pass through. But, it's the human sacrifice that gives said demonic spirit their powers, enough for them to grant whatever the summoner wants.”

“Have you ever seen them actually summon the Devil?” You tilted your head curiously.

“..No,” Lou responded slowly, as if he was planning his next words carefully, “But, I’m sure if the exceptionally charming figure were to be around here somewhere, he wouldn't reveal himself until necessary”

“Doesn’t the bible say he was God’s prettiest angel? Unless Hell turned him into some kind of monster, he’s probably still fairly good-looking, especially since he convinced all those other angels to fall with him.”

“Couldn’t be any better than what’s right in front of you, eh?” Lou turned, wiggling his eyebrows at you.

You only laughed softly, shaking your head at his antics. You weren’t sure how Lou would compare to the real deal, but you had an idea of who you’d choose as the winner in such a competition.

A few more minutes, and the two of you came upon a tunnel that split off into two different directions. Both seemed identical, and even Lou seemed to be having trouble figuring out the next steps.

He stood there, eyes flicking from one path to the next, as he bit his nail in thought.

“Are you lost?” you finally questioned, crossing your arms as he pivoted to face you.

“Me? Ha! No,” He chuckled nervously, lifting his hood slightly to rake back his hair.

The small glimpse of those shiny, silky strands had you wishing these cultists chose something more revealing as an outfit choice.

“Okay… so which way?”

“I—um… let’s see. I think we go… right, yeah! That’s it, we go right.” Lou nodded his head, confidence regaining as he turned toward the right branching route.

You quirked an eyebrow but made no comment as you followed him down the path. A few more cultists passed by, but they didn’t pay any mind to the two of you as you continued down the tunnel.

It wasn’t long before you rounded the corner, and the final cave’s entrance loomed ahead. Your heart was pounding in your chest, and you practically skipped to the large opening, giddy with joy.

Lou took place in front of you again, his back brushing against the jutting rocks as he slipped through the gaping crevice, strange noises echoing from the other side.

“Alright, this is the last one, right through here—”

Lou stopped dead in front of you, his mouth dropping in surprise at the scene before him. You slid through beside him, lifting a brow at his strange demeanor before turning your head to the strange noises in front, before your mouth dropped as well.

Inside the much smaller cave, was what seemed to be a small crowd of… exposed individuals. They stood and bent around the room, encircling a pile of naked bodies.

At first, you thought they were dead, until you saw a woman lift her head from the mass, eyes drunk with pleasure and a dopey smile on her features.

Oh… my… god.

Moans erupted, louder now, as you watched a naked man, ass exposed for all to see, kneel in front of a similarly undressed man, his mouth moving forward to clasp around the other man’s….

Your hand shot up to your mouth, and you swallowed down the bile building in your throat.

These guys were having orgies, too?!

“Wrong tunnel…” Lou finally spoke, eyes wide at the explicit scene as you turned away with a gag.

“I’m guessing this is one of the fun little activities you like to join sometimes?” You grumbled, pulling the hood completely over your eyes, hiding from the moaning mass.

The sounds emanating from inside the room were pleasurable, joyous, and everything a nymphomaniac could dream of.

“It’s gotten bigger since last time,” you heard Lou laugh awkwardly, rubbing his neck as he turned to you with a sheepish smile.

“Maybe, we should turn back. Go down that other tunnel?” You hoarsely pleaded.

“The cave's main entrance is right on the other side, we can't turn back now.” He whined, gripping your shoulder and spinning you to face him.

“I am not partaking in this!” You growled, your eyes glancing at all the exposed skin before squeezing them shut with another gag.

“I’m not asking you to!” Lou shot back defensively, “But, we just need to sneak through here, and you’re free!”

Freedom. You were almost there, almost home. A bunch of naked strangers weren’t going to stop you from making it out of here alive.

“Fine,” you relented, “But, you go first.”

“It would be my pleasure,” Lou replied sarcastically with a huff, before he turned, straightened his shoulders, and stepped further into the cave.

Before he could make it any farther, your hand wrapped clumsily around his as you yanked the hood further over your eyes and followed him in.

You steeled yourself, tense as the view directly at the ground gave you a little peek into what was going on around you.

Bodies rolling together, in all different positions, some you didn’t even know existed as you bumped into naked man after naked woman.

“Nothing like debauchery to proclaim your love to the Devil,” you grumbled internally as you stepped over someone’s bare foot that was tangled with another.

“Ah, pardon me… just gonna squeeze through here,” Lou said, as he pushed past a pair of strangers practically eating each other’s faces.

You were halfway through the cavern, before you felt sweaty fingers wrap around your ankle.

Your head snapped to a very beautiful woman, a placated smile on her face as she stared up at you.

“A pretty face like yours deserves some love, why don’t you come and join me?” She sent you a sultry grin, and your frown deepened.

“No thanks, I'm good…” You started, shaking her hand off your ankle.

You barely took another step before a second pair of hands brushed against your other ankle, a large hand grazing up your skin and underneath your robe.

“What’s the rush?” The strange man called to you, his hand sliding farther up your robe.

“Hey, get off!” Lou growled warningly, before protectively pushing you behind him as he ripped the man’s fingers from your leg.

The stranger only held up his hands in surrender, before slinking back into the naked mass. Lou nudged you to get moving again, as you listened.

Then, two identical women, twins you assumed, blocked your path. Their large breasts bounced against their chest as they strolled forward, large grins on their faces.

“A new face!” One of them gasped with glee, “Finally, things won’t be so boring around here.”

“Umm…” you started, until the second woman cut you off with a laugh.

“You’ll need to undress first, honey. That’s where the real fun starts.” The lady licked her lips, eyeing your figure hungrily.

“Woah!” Lou cut in, pulling you closer to him, “Sorry, ladies, but we’re just passing through.”

“Is that so?” One asked, a mischievous glint in her eye.

“That’s right,” he responded, his tone serious as he tugged you along, and you stepped around the two naked individuals, your eyes set on the cave’s exit only a few more meters away.

Again, you felt hands on your robe as you turned to see one of the women trying to get a peek underneath. You wrapped your fingers around the fabric and harshly pulled it from their grasp, sidling closer to Lou as the two of you zigzagged through.

Your breathing was becoming heavy, as panic set in with all the sweaty, disgusting hands practically groping you, tugging at your robe to remove it.

If Lou lost his grip on you, would you be dragged into the mass with no way of escape? This was never how you imagined you were going to greet death.

Lou turned to meet your gaze, and he must have felt the way your hands began to shake as he growled again, pushing past you to kick at another man’s grip on your garment.

“I said get back!” He boomed, and you winced slightly at the authority in his voice. It was strong, and it had you wanting to submit to him instantly, like some kind of other-worldly power.

The others around you also lowered themselves slightly at his tone, but soon they were even reaching towards Lou, who was practically beating them off with bare hands as the two of you backed away.

“Okay, we’re done here,” Lou huffed beside you, before you felt strong hands reaching underneath you and hoisting you into the air bridal-style.

One hand went to hold you firmly underneath your back, while the other wrapped around the back of your knees, and your eyes widened.

Lifting your head, you met Lou’s gaze who smiled reassuringly at you, as he began to practically hop across the cultist’s backs to make it to the other side.

You didn’t mind being carried around for the rest of the escape, especially by such a handsome face. Being so close again, you could smell Lou’s scent against his chest.

Apples and the faint scent of cinnamon. Your nerves began to settle instantly as you deeply inhaled the scent, pulling the hood over your eyes again to shield your poor mind from the rest of the grizzly sight.

You felt Lou take a couple more steps on solid ground, and the brushing off rocks against your legs as he slipped through the threshold and out of the cave.

He took a few more steps, and the orange glow from the torches faded, and fresh air hit your neck.

“Phew, looks like we made it out in one piece!” you heard Lou exclaim, and you perked from his hold.

Your head lifted, and your eyes met moonlight. Without a second thought, you scrambled out of Lou’s grip as he hastily tried to set you down beside him. You ripped that itchy hood off your head, that cool breeze brushing against your cheeks as you took a deep, refreshing breath.

You were outside, hidden amongst the shadows a few feet away near the small opening in the ground that held sinister, demonic secrets.

You extended your arms, taking in the full moon’s light as it basked you in a pale glow.

Lou watched you, smiling softly as you greeted the familiar sights of towering pine trees, the overgrown grass, and the distant calls of the owls and other nightly sounds.

The sounds of freedom, of safety, of home, sweet home.

“Congratulations,” Lou strolled up to you, and you turned to face him with a large smile, “You made it out alive, with barely a scratch on you!”

“I almost didn’t with that last stretch,” you laughed, stepping closer to him, “Thank you, for saving me from those… people.”

“I’d never let anything happen to you under my watch,” He responded, nudging you with his elbow, “They were just all enamored by your face, it’s hard to think straight staring into it for so long.”

Your cheeks heated at his compliment, and even Lou seemed surprised by his own words as he averted his gaze, a tint of red mixing with that porcelain complexion.

“So… this is it? You’re going home now?” You asked softly, desperate that the answer wouldn’t be what you expected.

“Yeah… it’s about time I head out,” Lou nodded slowly, trying to do everything but meet your eyes as he fiddled with his robe’s sleeves.

Your heart sank a little, your lips curving into a frown at the realization that this was goodbye.

This stranger, who wasn’t exactly a stranger anymore, lept into the dragon’s lair to pull you out and guide you to safety. You had never met anyone selfless like that, nor had you met anyone so good-looking.

Lou was like your… guardian angel. An ethereal figure who appeared during your darkest moments to lift you, physically and mentally, up from the depths. And now, he was leaving you to flap those wings and disappear into the night.

‘Please stay,’ you wished, as he finally turned his head to meet your gaze. Could he see the desperation behind your eyes?

You weren’t sure, as Lou stood silently for a few moments, before he lifted his hands and pulled the hood down from his head.

You held in a gasp, the way those blonde strands curled messily around his face, as they practically shimmered in the moonlight. He was drop-dead gorgeous now, and you felt your inner thighs beginning to heat against your will.

Holy moly… could this guy get any hotter?

Lou watched you for a moment, before his brows furrowed, lips pursed slightly in hesitation as if he was fighting the urge to say more.

‘Cat got your tongue?’ you wanted to tease, give the handsome, snow-skinned man a taste of what you could offer if he snuck around just a teensy bit longer.

The words never left your lips though, divulging into another missed opportunity that you’ll most definitely regret later when you were trying to sleep this traumatic night away.

Lou’s smile faltered for a moment, before they curved back to that charming, heart-fluttering grin.

“Well, looks like you better get going,” he sighed, “Even though tonight was pretty crazy, I enjoyed spending it with you.”

“I could say the same thing. But… how do I get home?” You frowned.

Lou lifted a hand to point somewhere behind you, and you turned your head to follow his finger. Off into the distance, strobes of multicolored lights lit up the city only a mile or so down the dusty path before you.

Your eyes widened at the familiar, towering buildings that dotted the cityscape. The neighborhood you turned down every afternoon to go home every evening practically screaming at you from down the mountain.

“Wait, we’re this close to my house? That’s crazy, I though—”

The words died in your throat, when you turned to find the spot before you empty. No hint that there was even a man beside you at one point, as the grass swayed softly around you, and the breeze tickled the hair on your skin.

Where did he go so fast? You twisted your head, trying to find a glimpse of the pale figure, to no avail.

You were left alone, with Lou nowhere in sight. Your fingers tightened around the rubber duck in your pocket soothingly as your heart sank even further.

Slowly, using the moon to light your path, you turned away from the spot Lou had vanished from, and began to trek down the dirt path.

Finally, you were going home. Although, you weren’t sure whether you’d be able to forget this night any longer, not with that dashing face at the forefront of your mind.

It had been exactly one year since you were kidnapped and taken to that hellish cave. The events replayed in your mind as you entered the large cave opening underground, surrounded by hooded figures that brushed past you as they crowded around a large stone table.

You had kept the robe Lou had given you, washed it a hundred times, before hiding it deep within your closet, never to see the light of day.

Until tonight. When you had risen from your bed, brows furrowed, mind set on one, idiotic plan of action.

You were going to go back. Back to those twisting tunnels, the smell of damp earth mingled with sinister intentions, and the hypnotic chanting of prayers.

And, back to that handsome face.

You didn’t remember when you had become dead set on going back, part of your mind begging you to turn on your heel and leave as you joined the large gathering inside the cavern.

The first ritual of the night was the sacrificial lamb. It cried out helplessly, bound on top of the stone table, surrounded by what seemed to be the leaders of the cult.

Their robes were much more fashionable, tinted with gold as one man in the center raised a large knife, chanting an unknown tongue as the rest of the crowd joined in.

“Satan!” One of the leaders bellowed, “Take this offering as a token of our devotion, and rise to join us from the depths of Hell!”

You lowered your head, averting your gaze at the painful bleating of the lamb as metal met soft skin, the knife digging deep until it twisted the little creature’s heart open from inside its chest.

The small animal’s cries died as blood seeped onto the stone table, a dark red river that flowed across its smooth surface before cascading onto the dirt floor beneath.

As the cultists around you sang praise and talked amongst themselves, you slowly backed away, pushing through to the back of the crowd.

“Dale, good to see ‘ya! How are the kids?” You heard one merrily ask to another.

When you exited the mass of robes, you inhaled deeply, settling your nerves as you twisted your head across the room.

Since it was the beginning of the night, the cultists were busy catching up with each other. They chatted away as if they were discussing the weather, instead of their next sacrifice.

Sneaking along the wall, you slipped out of sight and towards one end of the room, multiple paths branching out into dimly lit tunnels.

You stopped, craning your neck to try and find anything to gauge your memory.

This tunnel seemed familiar… was this the way back to your prison? If Lou was right, and they did this every year, then there would be some new, terrified face waiting for death somewhere around here.

You shook your head. No, it must be the tunnel on the other side of the room. The stalactites on the cave’s ceiling were much longer than the ones you had remembered from last year.

Turning, you took a step forward to check out the other route. Right as you twisted your head, you ran straight into another cultist, and you stumbled back with an oomph at the force.

“Hey, watch where you’re going!” you growled, as you looked down to adjust your robe.

“Woah! Sorry about that, just got lost in my thoughts,” the familiar, male voice responded, and your eyes widened with shock.

You didn’t say anything, instead, you lifted your head, frozen in place as the pale figure brushed dirt from his chest as he met your gaze.

“Don’t mind me, I’m just heading to the bathroo—”

Lou stopped, his mouth agape, as your familiar features dawned on him.

“It’s you!” his eyes lit up instantly, a soft smile dancing across his lips as he skimmed down your figure, covered with the same robe he had given you exactly one year ago.

Oh, how you missed those pretty eyes of his, and the cute red spots framing his lips.

“What are you doing here?” He looked at you funny, as if you were crazy for coming all the way back here.

Which you were.

“You forgot to say goodbye, last time we spoke,” was your reply, as you tilted your head at the man.

“Oh… right. I’m sorry, goodbyes are just not my kind of thing. I wasn’t trying to be rude! I just thought you would be better off if…” he stumbled over his apology, as if you’d turn around and leave forever if he couldn’t come up with a good enough excuse.

Your smile only widened, and Lou’s frown dissolved as you stepped closer to him.

“Ready to go save some poor, wayward soul?” You whispered, extending a closed fist towards that handsome, pearlescent face.

You opened your hand, revealing that familiar, yellow rubber duck that smiled innocently at Lou.

He reached a hand forward, fingers reaching towards the toy in your palm. Instead of taking it from you, he curled your fingers back up, closing your hand into a fist once more.

“I think whoever we meet will need it more than me,” Lou smiled at you, eyes soft as he drank in your presence.

“Let’s not keep them waiting, hm?” You shot him a grin, reaching your other hand forward to entwine with his, before pulling him away from the crowd.

Lou only chuckled, keeping pace as the two of you sneaked down the tunnel, towards that familiar, sinister prison you had called home only a year ago.

You were praying the dance lessons you had taken during the year would impress your new handsome, blonde, partner in crime later tonight.

If not, there was always next year.

y’know i keep saying “this next fic is gonna be short” but it’s obvious my brain doesn’t know wtf that means 😭 like i’ve literally tried to sit down and right plain ol’ headcanons before but i just don’t have a bone in my body for that kind of stuff lmao

but i just thought the idea of lucifer getting summoned to commit evil acts, to then just do the complete opposite and save people is funny af bc my boy is not cool with straight up murder like that.

let me know your thoughts! have a wonderful day 🦢

tags 🏷️

@ohnoivefallen @doodlebob2726 @coleisyn @undertale-is-sansational @nehy019 @mixplara @chewbrry @yellowsubiesdance @airwolf92 @lxkeee @jellybellyrulez @catnoirsleftnut @mbruben-stein @froggybich @moonlovers34 @just-trash-yeah-thats-it @lil-bexie @wings-of-sapphire @the-tortured-poet @enigmatic-blues @bethleeham @blue122 @cherry-4200 @azullynx @luzzbuzz @for-hearthand-home @helluvapoison @th3-st4r-gur1 @concentratedconcrete @cimadreamer @marsenbie @guacam011y @maxiskindahere @purplerose291 @fictional-character-whore @0willowwisp0 @yourlocalgoldenretrieverboy @wpdarlingpan @halo-balo @chipper-chip @lvstyangel @acrazyartist @midorichoco

#hazbin hotel #hellaverse #lucifer morningstar x reader #lucifer morningstar #lucifer x reader #hazbin hotel x reader

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taytrashmouth · 6 months

Note

hello lovely!! would u consider writing a peeta x reader, where ur both in the quarter quell, but reader is separated from peeta from the start and goes through mutt attacks/blood rain/jabberjays by herself and when peeta and the group find her on the beach she is injured and traumatised. hurt/comfort, where he looks after her afterwards and comforts her, washes her in the water and stuff? loooads of gentle comfort and fluff. sorry for my bad english!!

Okay I am absolutely obsessed with this request!!!! Omg can’t wait for you to read this!!! Ahhhh! Okay okay I hope you love it 😊

Peeta x reader

(Catching fire)

Requests are open so don’t forget to send them in!!!! Prompts under my profile!

:readmore:

When you woke up the morning of the games in Peetas arms you somehow felt safe. It was like you weren’t being sent to die that day. He kissed your head and told you he’d be by your side.

You had dreamt about the last games, how you were separated and the only reason you survived was because he became allies with those horrible kids from 1 & 2

When you eventually found each other, all you did was help Peeta get better, applied the ointment and comforted him. He did all the killing, he saved you.

You only survived the first half by dumb luck, that spear was supposed to hit you…not Rue. If only you hadn’t moved out the way.

The whole lovers idea was Peetas too, only it was true. Deep down you both knew you’d liked each other since kindergarten back in 12

But here you were in the little glass tube that sucked you straight into hell. You felt sick but you really wanted to throw up when you couldn’t see Peeta.

“Peeta!” You screamed as the countdown started. Sweating and getting panicked. You couldn’t do this again, not without him. You had a deal: stay together.

The games had begun. You needed a weapon. You jumped off the platform into the water swimming for the weapons.

Once you found your feet at the cornucopia, you began to hear screams and watched people start to fall. You grabbed a machete and ran for the jungle on one of the thin arms of rock.

“Peeta!” You screamed from the beach. But no answer. That was when a knife flew past your head and missed by an inch.

You couldn’t kill somebody. So you ran.

You shoved past trees and vines running deep into the jungle.

You found a spot hollowed out under a tree. It was hot- and you needed water.

That was when you heard his voice. Peeta.

You screamed for him as you ran towards the sound.

“Help n/n!” He yelled.

“Where are you!?” You frantically turned around. “Peeta?”

That was until his voice became overwhelming. Your ears started to ring. His cried for help, his screams.

You began to cry, realising this was some cruel trick of the capitol. “STOP IT!” You yelled, throat raw. You screamed as loud as you could covering your ears to get it to stop but it didn’t help. It was overwhelming. You tried to run but a forcefield locked you in. You screamed and banged on it but nothing worked.

You grabbed your machete and banged at the field but it just ricocheted.

You sunk to the floor, covering your ears and cried. You were there for what felt like a decade but was probably only an hour.

When his cries suddenly stopped you felt a strange sense of sadness. The screaming had been awful but you were worried about him. What if he was dead.

You began to walk deeper into the jungle, sweating and with tear stained cheeks. You had never been so thirsty before, after screaming so loudly in what felt like 100 degree heat.

As desperate as you were you stumbled across a little pool of water. You smiled dryly and lay on the floor, drinking out of the pool. A sigh escaped your mouth as you quenched your thirst. You splashed your face. And sat up leaning against a nearby tree.

This is where you would sleep. You gathered sticks and placed them in a circle around the area, to ensure that if someone walked by you would hear them.

The music began to play, you looked up at the sky, holding your pin. Praying you wouldn’t see Peetas face. You didn’t. Relief washed over you as the final canon went off.

You barely slept when you felt a warm air hitting your face, as your eyes opened you were greeted with a large mutt, two inches from your face.

You took a shocked, shaky breath in and slowly reached for your machete. It belted a loud noise sending a signal to the rest of his friends.

You closed your eyes as you wedged the sharp end of your blade into the mutt in-front of you.

You pulled the machete out of its body and stood up. Swinging at any that got a little to close. Just as one of the beasts began to jump at you, you decided the best option was to throw the machete and run.

As the mutt jumped and you released your blade, the woman from 6 who had been hiding in the trees tried to save you. And the machete hit her instead. A scream escaped your lips. You had killed someone.

You covered your mouth with your hands, shaky breaths escaping your lips. “No!” You sobbed.

You bent down to try help her, applying pressure to the wound. “I’m sorry.” You cried as she became limp.

You held her to your chest in the hopes it would cause a miracle.

Soon you noticed the mutts had began to run as a white smoked reached the edge of the water, you stood up, knowing something was coming.

One of their claws ripped the back of your calf open as it ran away. “Shit!” You fell into the smoke, immediately screaming and running.

The sun had started to rise, and you were limping with an excruciating pain in your arms and legs with growing boils from the poison.

You screamed as you ran not caring about attracting other tributes. The sun has begun to rise, and you were now an easy target.

You ran through the jungle searching desperately for the beach but it was so overgrown you had no way of knowing.

You stopped in a small clearing. Crying and sitting in the dirt. Desperately wanting to rid yourself of the boils.

After a while of crying A cool liquid hit your face. Rain. You looked up at the sky, hoping the water would help your sores. Opening your mouth to quench your thirst.

It was definitely not water. You gagged. Spitting onto the dirt. Blood.

You sobbed and ran wherever you could and tripped over a log of wood. Tumbling onto the sand of the beach.

You screamed and cried. Not knowing what to do. You hated the capitol. You hated that you didn’t know where Peeta was. You hated this. You hated that you had to die.

Just then you heard voices. You put a hand over your mouth trying to quiet your whimpers.

Tears running down your face. You couldn’t run anymore. This was it.

You shuffled back, trying to find and escape route but there wasn’t one.

You got on all fours and crawled on the sand, dragging your leg with a gash in it in the sand.

You let out chokes of pain and self pity as they grew closer, you refused to look.

“N/n!” You heard him…peeta. “Oh my god it’s y/n!!!”

You screamed and covered your ears lying in the sand. You would rather die than listen to the jabberjays again. Until someone rolled you onto your back and you were met with Peeta.

He looked so scared for you. You immediately started to cry as he hugged you tightly to his chest. “You weren’t real.” You sobbed into his chest, feeling his hair, his back, anything to make sure he was there.

“I’m real now. I’m here now.” He kissed your forehead and held you again. Until you hissed when he touched your boils.

“Oh shit! I had them too see-“ he showed you the faint scars on his hands.

“I need to get freshwater.” He began to get up but you held onto his hand. “Don’t leave” you whispered.

He stared at you for a moment too long, his eyes laced with concern.

“Finnick! I need water.” Peeta yelled at the group that was a safe distance away.

While you waited, Peeta brushed hair out of your eyes that was covered in blood and sand, just like the rest of you and you squeezed his arm in pain.

“It’s okay.” He kept repeating. Kissing your head despite your state.

When finnick returned Peeta poured water all over your boils and you screamed in pain as they vanished.

“Thank you.” You smiled sadly. Overwhelmed. Peeta often said you were a kind sole, you wouldn’t hurt a fly at home, literally. You sang songs and picked flowers. You weren’t meant for this. Nobody was really….

“Come on, let’s wash you off…if at least half this blood is yours, we’re in serious trouble.” He joked and you attempted to laugh. He picked you up bridal style.

You would argue that you could do it yourself but it just wasn’t true.

He dipped you into the salt water. You hissed in pain, clutching his wetsuit.

“I know it stings. I’m sorry.” He rubbed your arm but kept you underwater.

“It okay. Thank you.” You whispered again, almost scared something bad would happen like it had been. One after the other. Peeta cupped water into his hand and tilted your head back rinsing the blood out of your hair and carefully brushing through it with his fingers.

He washed you off, holding you with one had at all times. Afraid to let you go. He was careful around your cuts and scrapes.

“I killed her.” You let out, staring at nothing.

He stopped his movements and just helped you too his chest.

“Who?” He whispered.

“Six… she tried to save me and-“ you chocked on your tears.

“Hey hey hey, it’s okay…I’m here. You don’t have to talk about it now.” He assured.

You were both wrinkly like the raisins Peeta used in his raisin bread back home by the time you got out the water.

You tried to walk but you could barely stand on your right foot.

“What happened?” Finnick asked before Peeta got the chance.

“Mutts.” You answered simply, trying to see the gash on the back of your calf.

You almost fell but Peeta caught you. He picked you up agin and placed you on the leaves they were using as beds in the sand tonight.

“Now we match.” Peeta smiled at you pulling up the leg of his wetsuit to reveal his prosthetic leg.

You laughed, for the first time in days.

The others were asleep while Peeta took the first watch. You sat in his lap, and wrapped your legs around his torso, like a koala.

Head on his chest listening to his heartbeat as he leaned against a tree looking at the waves.

“I thought I lost you.” He whispered, a tear running down his face. You sat up slightly to wipe it. “Me too.” You assured and squeezed his hand.

“So much for sticking together.” He half laughed.

“Yeah.” You looked at his brown eyes and played with his blonde fringe. He leaned in and Kissed you gently but passionately. Holding your cheek and pulling you in by your back. Carefully avoiding your right leg that was tediously bandaged with leaves and vines.

When you broke apart for air. You smiled softly at each other. Heart still heavy from the past two days.

“I love you n/n.” He spoke with only truth in his tone. It wasn’t just an act and you knew that.

“I love you too…so much.” You teared up thinking about how you were going to have to say goodbye soon.

You resumed your position on his chest and fell asleep to his hand rubbing your back and his whispers of “it’s okay.” And “I love you.”

#y/n #peeta supremacy #peeta my beloved #peeta mellark #team peeta #thg peeta #peeta mellark x reader #peeta x reader #the hunger games peeta #i love peeta #the hunger games #catching fire #thg #thg fanfiction #finnick odair #hunger games #may the odds be ever in your favor #the capitol #panem

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inez-winchester-cameron · 11 months

Text

Sharing is Caring (18+)

↠Pairing: Sam Winchester x fem!reader, Dean Winchester x fem!reader

↠Summary: After overhearing his brother having sex with you, Sam finds himself horny and unable to quench his thirst with just his fist (SMUT)

↠Cw: threesome, mentions of collaring, dom!sam and dean, mentions of 'training', oral, riding, cheek slapping, masturbation, shower sex, dubcon

↠Notes: this made me very horny while writing so i hope yall enjoy

Sam found himself awkwardly adjusting his boner in the recliner of the motel you, him and Dean were staying in. You and Dean seemed to have forgotten just how thin motel walls were. Just ten minutes before that, you and Dean had announced you were going to shower quickly before heading out to gather details on the hunt.

It was naive of Sam to think that you two were just going to shower, he now realized. Because when did Dean ever just do wholesome things with you? Sam felt bad, sitting there, listening to the noises you and Dean let out. The recliner was close to the bathroom door, he could’ve gotten up and moved, maybe even stepped outside for a breather.

But he didn’t. He sat there listening. Like a creep. But what was the harm, it wasn’t like you and Dean knew he could hear you, right?

Dean had you pinned, chest against the shower wall, as he pounded into you from behind. He growled dirty words directly into your ear. You had assumed the shower water noise would drown out your noises, but you underestimated just how loud Dean made you. Most of Dean’s dirty talk was similar, not to call it boring, but he normally used a lot of the same phrases and ideas. So, when a new thought came into his brain, he found himself immediately spitting it out.

“You think Sam can hear us, huh, baby? Bet he can. Bet he’s out there touching his cock to your pretty moans.”

Dean didn’t mean it seriously, it was bedroom talk. But then he felt the way you clenched down around him at the words. A smirk formed on his lips, “You like that, baby? Like the thought of him wanting you as much as I do?” Against all morals you had, you found yourself nodding. Dean chuckled lowly into your ear, “That’s so cute, baby. Maybe next time we’ll invite him.” As soon as those words came out of his lips, your cunt spasmed around his cock. There wasn’t even a moment to warn Dean, you came immediately at the thought of that. Embarrassed, you stayed quiet as Dean finished up.

After a well needed wash up in the shower, you and Dean stepped out, wrapping towels around yourselves. Sam’s eyes widened, as he realized you two had finished. He quickly sat some books on his lap, hiding his massive boner. It’s fine, he would just step into the shower after you and Dean came out. He could rub one out and get right back on the case.

Soon, you and Dean exited the bathroom, both dressed. You were towel drying your hair as you sat on the bed. Sam quietly excused himself into the bathroom and locked the door. Neither of you had noticed his erection, right? It was a bit embarrassing for Sam, but he did have a big cock, and whenever he got hard, it was more than noticeable.

Sam restarted the shower water and began stripping, as he did this, he noticed something. In the corner of the bathroom sat a pile of clothes. He bit his lip at the garment sitting on top. A pair of black lace panties. Sam’s brain argued with himself over morals, but eventually he snatched the panties, stuffing them into his jean pocket after he slipped them off. Sam stepped into the shower, sighing in relief that he hadn’t been caught with an erection a few moments earlier. Sam shut his eyes and started stroking his cock, his head filled with thoughts of you. Especially the pretty moans you were letting out while Dean fucked you. He wondered what position Dean had you in earlier. Were you up against the wall? Bent over the tub? Was Dean sitting while you bounced on his cock? Sam’s mind ran with endless possibilities. Eventually he spilled all over his hand, in an embarrassingly quick amount of time.

While Sam was in the bathroom, you and Dean were waiting outside. There was a bit of an awkward silence after what Dean had whispered to you in the shower. It wasn’t super tense, no one was upset, no one was mad, it was just a little awkward.

You cleared your throat and spoke first, “What was that?”

“What was what?” Dean asked, faking looking over the research Sam had gathered.

“In the shower,” you stated, “That dirty talk.”

“I always dirty talk you like that, baby,” Dean replied, avoiding the topic.

“No, the dirty talk about Sam,” you got specific so he couldn’t avoid it any longer.

Dean shrugged, “Just came to mind..why? Did you not like it?”

“No, I did, just- it was just different, was wondering what brought it on.”

Before Dean could answer, Sam stepped back out, now dressed in his FBI suit, as you and Dean were.

“You guys ready?” Sam questioned.

“Of course,” Dean stood up, grabbing everything necessary and headed out the door, with you and Sam in tow. You and Sam accidentally ran into each other, trying to go out at the same time. A light blush appeared on both of your cheeks, and neither of you had noticed the others, and Sam took a step back, letting you go first. You gave him a small smile, such a gentleman. It just made you want to know if he was just as respectful in bed or if he had a dark side.

The rest of the day was filled with small, awkward touches between you and Sam. This always made both of you erupt in blush, for different but similar reasons. Oh and Dean saw it all. He didn’t seem like it, but Dean was observant, especially when it came to his girl. He noticed every small touch, every time blush appeared on your cheeks, everything.

Later that night, you three returned to the room. You were first to the shower, heading in and cleaning up. It was a simple hunt, quick salt-and-burn, but you slipped and got yourself all dirty. After about ten minutes, you stepped out of the bathroom, now dressed in Dean’s flannel and just your underwear. It wasn’t uncommon for you to be so exposed in front of Sam. You practically lived together for Christ’s sake. And normally he was respectful, keeping his eyes to himself. But something caused him to look over, looking at your ass as you spoke in careful whispers to Dean.

“Dean, did you do something with my panties?” You asked, setting down the dirty clothes into a grocery store bag to separate them from the clean ones.

“No, sweetheart, you woulda saw me, why?”

“They’re gone.” A puzzled look came onto Dean’s face at this, and he glanced at Sam, and he saw where his eyes were. His eyes were trained right onto your ass. You weren’t paying attention, putting your things back into the duffel you and Dean shared. Dean smirked a little bit and his eyes caught Sam’s. Sam sat still, like a deer caught in headlights. A couple puzzle pieces clicked together in Dean’s mind. Sam did hear you guys this morning, he has been being awkward all day and he was the one that took your panties.

“Hey Sammy,” Dean called out, “You seen her panties? The black pair?”

Sam paused, shocked that Dean just asked that. He took a moment to regain his composure as he realized Dean and you were looking at him. His thoughts were all muddled together and he made a mistake, “No, I haven’t seen any black lace panties.”

Dean’s eyes narrowed and a smirk played on his lips, “How’d ya know they were lace?”

“W-what?” Sam asked, dumbfounded and confused.

“I asked if you seen her black panties, never said they were lace.” Checkmate.

“Oh- I- Um-”

Dean grabbed your waist, possessively and pulled you backwards onto his lap, whispering into his ear, “Whatdya say, baby? Wanna have some fun with Sammy?” With a bite of your lip, you found yourself nodding. Sam wasn’t sure what Dean was whispering, but from the flustered look on your face and the smirk on Dean’s, he knew it couldn’t be good.

“Yes, sir,” you mumbled.

“And you know the safe word?” Dean quickly checked and you replied ‘whiskey’ under your breath, “Good girl, now go help my brother out of his jeans. Crawl.” At his command, you found yourself on all fours, crawling over to Sam as he sat at the table. Sam’s eyes widened as you did this, but he wasn’t complaining. His eyes flashed from Dean’s eyes to you, his heart was beating out of his chest and Dean spoke up before you touched Sam, “Don’t worry, Sammy. Im a good brother so I’ll share.” You sat up in front of Sam, looking up at him, giving him “fuck me” eyes.

“Can I touch you, sir?” You quietly asked. Sam nodded, and you immediately reached for his belt, undoing his jeans and pulling his cock out. You licked your lips at the sight, it was just a tad bit longer than Dean’s but it was less girthy. Precum leaked from the tip and you leaned forward, licking it up. Sam moaned at this. Dean chuckled as you took the tip into your mouth.

“You’ll need to excuse his behavior, love. Been a minute since Sammy’s had a good lay,” Dean spoke up and Sam’s face got red.

“Oh shut up,” he barked at Dean. Nothing, not even a pretty woman, could stop the boys from bickering. Sam went to add on but he let out a low moan as you took him deeper in your throat. He finally understood why you and Dean had so much sex, if Sam had a girlfriend this good at sucking cock, he’d have her on her knees every night too. Sam tried to hold back his moans, embarrassed at how much he felt like a teenage virgin. Your tongue traced his cock, eliciting as many moans as he would give you.

“Don’t cum in her, Sammy,” Dean warned, still sitting across the room. He palmed his hard-on at the sight in front of him. Something about seeing his girl pleasuring his baby brother was driving him fucking nuts. Sam nodded and lightly pulled your hair when he was ready to finish. You pulled back, sitting back on your calves, hands folded neatly on your lap, tongue sticking out, eyes looking up at Sam. Dean had you trained well, and soon Sam was blowing his load all over your face. Dean stood up, walking over, looking down at you, “Good girl, baby. How about you give me a treat now?” Sam had missed Dean taking his shirt off but it was off now. He watched you pull Dean’s jeans down, taking his cock into your mouth like you had Sam’s. Sam watched, a bit mesmerized at the scene in front of him.

Dean smirked, speaking to Sam, “She’s a good little cum slut, surprised we haven’t done this sooner. She’s just always so desperate to get some cock in her.” That turned you on, hearing Dean speak as if you weren’t already in the room. Your pussy clenched, and you spread your legs, gently starting to rub your clit. At this, Dean smacked your cheek, making you moan around his cock, and he warned, “Don’t touch what doesn’t belong to you.” You quickly pulled your hand back and kept working on Dean’s cock.

Sam cleared his throat, speaking up, “You..you have her trained well.” His cock was still out, now half-hard at what he was witnessing.

“Damn straight, I do,” Dean said, taking pride as he tugged on your hair, “She knows she ain’t getting shit if she’s not good.” Sam’s eyes widened, he had never had a girl that he did anything like that with. Most of the girls he had fucked were just a one time thing, and they just had basic vanilla sex. This was new to him and..and he kind of liked it.

Sam bit his lip as he watched Dean cum in your mouth. Dean pulled out, “Show.” You stuck your tongue out, presenting Dean’s cum.

“Fuck,” Sam unintentionally muttered, now fully hard. Dean smirked.

“Swallow.” You did as you were told. Dean glanced at Dean, seeing the look on her face, “You wanna give it a go? Boss her around? Do whatever you want with her, just don’t cum in my property. She listens real good.” Dean glanced down at you, lightly slapping your cheek and cooing at you, “Ain’t that right, baby?” You nodded and Dean spoke again, “Gonna be good for Sammy?” Another nod. Dean smirked and looked at Sam, waiting to see what he was going to say. It took Sam a minute to think but he eventually spoke up.

“Strip and sit on my lap,” Sam commanded you and Dean smirked, watching as you listened. You unbuttoned Dean’s flannel and shrugged it off before shimmying out of your panties. Sam looked you up and down, taking in your naked form. He licked his lips, you were prettier than expected. You sat down on Sam’s lap, thighs on either side of him, and hands on your shoulders. Dean sat aside, watching intently. He wanted to see what Sam would do. Sam leaned in and kissed you. It was a hungry but passionate kiss. Sam ran his hands along your body, pinching you nipples and squeezing your hips. He kissed down your jaw, whispering into your ear, “Bounce on my cock.”

You whimpered but listened, lining yourself up with his cock and lowering yourself down onto it. Sam squeezed your hips tight, and you quietly asked, “Can I take your clothes off, sir?” Sam nodded and you started unbuttoning his flannel.

“Ain’t she pretty, Sammy?” Dean asked, and Sam nodded. Both men looked at you with a certain type of hunger. As you adjusted to the sheer size of Sam, you stripped him of the rest of his clothes, taking a minute to run your hands along his chest.

“She’s really pretty,” Sam commented, looking at your body, “Might have to keep sharing her.” Sam felt you clench around him and he chuckled, “Did our pretty fleshlight like that? You wanna be used?” You quickly nodded and Dean gave a chuckle.

“That’d be fun, we could get her a pretty collar, keep her in nothing but that,” Dean commented back, biting his lip at the thought of that. You slowly started bouncing on Sam’s cock, lifting and dropping yourself repeatedly.

“Mmm, she loves that idea, Dean. She’s squeezing me so tight.” You didn’t know where this side of Sam came from. He was usually so sweet, caring, and respectful. But, this, this was new. Not that you minded it. Seeing the respectful brother be disrespectful was so so hot to you.

“Oh is she?” Dean asks with a smirk, speeding up his movements on his cock. Sam moved his fingers to your clit, rubbing it as you pleasured him.

“She is,” Sam replied, groaning as you began convulsing around him signaling your orgasm. Sam leaned in, “Cum for me, baby.” At this, the knot in your stomach broke and you came on his cock. You slowed to a stop and Sam raised an eyebrow, “What do you think you’re doing?”

“Huh?” You replied, confused.

“I didn’t cum yet,” Sam explained.

“But my legs-” Sam replied with a swift smack to your ass. You jolted forward, and your eyes filled with tears at the sheer impact. Dean chuckled, amused by this.

Sam wrapped his hand around your throat, “Keep fucking yourself on my cock. Now.” You glanced at Dean, but he wasn’t going to help you. So, like the good trained bitch you were, you continued to bounce on his cock. Sam squeezed your ass tight, watching your tits bounce in his face. He leaned forward, taking a nipple into his mouth.

“Bite them,” Dean recommends and Sam does so, eliciting a moan-scream from you and a clench from your pretty pussy. Your body was so so so tired, but you were a good girl, you would continue to pleasure Sam. Dean found himself getting close, but he didn’t want to cum before you and Sam were done. Sam bit the other nipple, getting another of the same reaction.

“God, you’re a little pain slut, huh?”

“She sure is, bet she could cum just from getting hurt.” Dean egged Sam on.

“Sam please-!” You begged, legs tired, on the edge of an orgasm. Sam growled, turning to Dean.

“I’m gonna creampie your girl’s pussy.”

“Like the fuck you ar-” Dean tried but he stopped, seeing his was too late. Sam came in you, a ton, it leaked out around his cock. You moaned and came with Sam. Although he was just objecting, Dean finished stroking himself to the sight of you two. He then gave Sam a harsh glare.

You panted and laid down, resting on Sam’s chest. Sam smiled and wrapped his arms around you then ran his fingers through your hair. There was the sweet gentle Sammy you knew. You fell asleep there and as soon as soft snores fell from your lips, Sam had one thing to say to Dean.

“Our girl now.”

#dean winchester #supernatural #spn #winchester #dean winchester x reader #sam winchester #sam winchester x reader #sam winchester smut #dean winchester smut #smut #spn smut #supernatural smut

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astrolynnworld · 5 months

Text

wanting you 2

pairing: matt x reader

summary: matt finally gets what he’s been desiring for

warnings: smut, sneaky, bathroom sex, confession of feelings, little bit of romance.

a/n- since i’ve been requested for a part 2 🫡

word count: 1,464

matt’s pov:

i can’t stop glancing over at her.

“fuck. she’s so beautiful” i thought to myself

watching her ball up the cookie dough before placing it on the sheet

i quickly zone back in and head downstairs to join our friends that’s seated over by the pool table

today’s hangout was mostly just to soak in each other’s presence once more before the new year

we did karaoke, started a cookie baking competition with partners, and now we’re playing pool.

a few seconds after i get seated, y/n comes down

“you guys are playing pool? i want to play!!” she geeks

“well you’re lucky cause we just finished a round” nate says

he hands her the pool cue and fixes the balls in their original state

“your go” he signals to her

she hits the break and all the balls scatter.

a stripped ball falls into the furthest right socket of the table, indicating that she can continue to play for stripped

she adjusts her cue to a stripped ball that angles itself against another socket

the way she arches her back and dips her head in to make sure she has an appropriate placement

she’s wearing a bodysuit that enhances the curves of her body.

when she bends down, i can see the framework of her ass that barely fits in the tigh-

fuck im getting hard. i need to excuse myself immediately

“im going to the bathroom” i say abruptly before immediately hiking back up the stairs

i could tell nick was about to say something but i didn’t stay to hear what it was. i couldn’t have anyone seeing bulge in my pants

i find the hallway bathroom, turn on the lights, and immediately shut the door.

i silently stare at myself in the mirror for a second as i process my thoughts

why can’t i control myself around you?

why are you so fucking perfect?

were you put in my life just to taunt me?

i sigh out loud and shake my head

“i need someone water.” i think to myself before exiting the bathroom and making my way to the kitchen

i open the fridge and grab a cold bottle of water that i quickly open and put to my lips to hopefully quench my thirst

i start to hear a footstep trailing up the basement stairs

i turn away, facing my body towards the pantry so the bulge that still rests in my pants isn’t visible

“what are you doing in here?” a soft voice asks

fuck it’s y/n. now i really have to keep facing the pantry

“oh i just came to get some water” i shyly say before taking another sip

“hm, okay!” she says as she hops up on the counter as a seat

“you?” i ask back

“i just came to check on you”

me? why was she worried about me?

“oh .. why?” i turn my neck and ask so she’s not only having a conversation with my back

“well you’ve been up here for a while so i was curious to see if you were okay” she chuckles

“oh” i chuckle back, “well yep, im fine”

i reassure so she can go back downstairs and i can take care of the nuisance in my pants

“can you check on the cookies and make sure they’re not burnt please!” she requests

nope. i cannot. i actually cannot my love. can you do it?

“mhm” i reply as i slowly start to move towards the oven

“why are you being so weird matt? what are you doing.” she asks

“nothing? i’m just checking on the cookies”

she hops up off the counter and turns me around before noticing that i’m hard

“matt.. are you hard?“ she asks chuckling

i cover myself, “it’s not funny..” i turn back away

“it’s okay matt” she continues chuckling, “it’s natural. i just hope you’re not hard for the cookies” she jokes while rubbing my back

i turn back and stare into her eyes with a head tilt

“whattt? .. are you hard for me?” she jokingly asks with her glossy eyes looking up at me

fuck she makes me so nervous and i can’t lie. i’m just gonna stay silent

“wait.” she pauses, “you totally are!! what the fuck matthew” she pulls back

“are you actually hard because of me?” she asks

“well look at what you’re wearing.. you make it so hard not too”

“well if you wanted to see it off, you could of always just asked me” she replies with her chest pressed against mine

y/n has always been a flirt. i can’t tell when she’s serious or not. i’m pretty sure she has a clue that i like her but i think she exploits that for her own personal benefits.

i don’t care much tho, whatever gets my dick off.

“i do. i would lovee to see it off” i reply to her comment

she grabs my hand and guides me back to the bathroom.

she pushes me against the closed door and sloppily puts her lips on mine

“how many times have you imagined this scenario matt? having me to your complete free use.” she asks me

“too many times” i press my lips back on to hers before lifting her up onto the bathroom sink

i keep kissing her while i use my hand to play with her pussy through her clothes

grinding into my touch she starts to unzip her body suit and slid it down to her ankles, allowing me access to her bra and panties

i lift up her bra and latch myself onto her nipples while she palms my cock through my sweats

she released my cock from the restraints of my pants and slides out of her underwear

“put it in” she demands

fuck i can’t believe this is actually about to happen. i’ve been dreaming about this for so long

i align my cock with her hole and slowly start to slide it in as she hugs around my back for grip

i give her time to adjust as she tightly squeezes around my cock.

“fuckkk you’re so tight baby.” i let out as i start to thrust into her

she’s moaning so loud i have to cover her mouth

i continue to thrust into her as she scratches at my back. leaving red marked lines in a pattern of pleasured pain

“i don’t know how much longer i could last baby. you feel so fucking good” i whisper out in her ear

she quickly pushes off me and hops up off the sink and onto the floor where she can get better access from my cock to her lips

she used her hand to jerk my shaft while she uses her mouth to surround and suck the tip

i use my hand and push her mouth further into my cock where she then allows me to thrust into her mouth

i throw my head back and try to fight the moaning mess that i was slowly turning into

i buck my hips into her mouth for the final time before feeling my cum shoot out into her throat

i put back and watch her swallow my load and stick her tongue out

“you’re so fucking sexy oh my god” i breathe out before pulling her back up to place a series of kisses onto her lips

“okay matt-” she kisses back, “we need-” i kiss her again, “we need to go back downstairs” i lay one more kiss on her lips

“they’re probably wondering what we’re doing up here” she continues

i can’t help but stare at her beauty

“whatt?” she asks in a high pitched tone

“i love you.”

FUCK. why would i say that? oh my god? she’s never gonna speak to me again. entire friendship ruined.. why would that be the first words out my mouth? am i dumb oh my goddddd..

“i love you too matt” she says before placing a kiss back on my lips

“you- you do?” i ask

“of course i do matt. you’re my best friend? the one person in the world i can go to and trust for anything. you mean a lot more to me than you think” she confesses

oh.

“i feel like an idiot” i slightly laugh

“why so?”

“because i was so scared of you not feeling the same way that i kept my feelings a secret for so long” i admit

“well.. the secrets out now” she smiles as if a weight has also been lifted off her chest

“so when do we move in with each other and get married?” i joke

“shut up matt” she laughs as she open the bathroom door

————————————————————————

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thewordypeach · 1 year

Text

Cream

Cream (Milk)

pairing: Joel Miller x fem!reader word count: 2.9k warnings: 18+, NSFW!!!!, smut! smut! smut!, no use of y/n, unprotected p in v = creampie, oral, titty sucking and titty fucking, (lactation kink), implied breeding kink, squirting, etc. summary: Joel needs his thirst quenched, and only one thing in this world can do it - author's note: ummm … so this sequel had me questioning my life choices. like i do not know what possessed me to take it this far lol so you better blow it up like you did with ‘Milk’ 🤭 anyways, i hope you like it <3 xoxo the wordy peach

It begins with: “You’ll never guess what they’re playing at movie night,”

You look at Joel, a single eyebrow raised. Joel wolfishly grins, his brown eyes sparkling, “Austin Powers and the Spy Who Shagged Me,”

He watches as your eyebrows knit together in confusion. Joel can’t believe you don’t remember the conversation from last week, the one that had you confessing to him that you felt like one of those fembots from the aforementioned movie. He steps closer, head dipping to your ear, whispering: “Machine gun titties,”

That’s all it takes for you to remember. And it has your cheeks flushing pink. Sheepishly, you smile at him. But, of course, the cock block herself pipes up: “The spy who what?”

Ellie, you spunky little shithead. You love her to death. You never want her to grow up. But lately, she’s been ruining your alone time with Joel. You know she just wants to be a part of the family, and she is. It never even crossed your mind to think otherwise. She’s the daughter you never had. Sometimes you wish she’d just go and make friends that aren’t you or Joel.

You look at Joel, waiting for him to answer. But Joel is expectantly gazing at you. A playful smirk ghosts across his lips. He thinks it’s your duty to explain the birds, the bees, and everything between them to Ellie. Of course, she knows most of it. But she questions absolutely everything. Just yesterday, you had the unfortunate experience of explaining anal to her; Joel walked out of the house when she asked and didn’t return until later.

You poke a finger into Joel’s chest, hissing at him, “It’s your turn,”

His face goes slack before he gives you a sullen look. He pouts those luscious lips of his, “But darlin'….”

“Don't darlin' me, mister. You owe me for yesterday,”

Joel continues to pout but eventually relents. He turns to Ellie with a face void of any emotion: “It’s a classic movie from the 2000s,”

“Yeah, but what does shagged mean?” Ellie asks. Her eyes look between you and Joel, waiting for an answer. Joel grows uncomfortable. He’s never been one to talk about this kind of stuff.

“Yeah, Joel. What does shagged mean?” You ask.

“It- it… it means…” Joel stutters and stumbles over the words. His face is turning pink. He looks flustered as he searches for the right thing to say. You’re enjoying him floundering around. In one great, big breath, Joel spills out: “It’s a British slang term for intercourse,”

Ellie blinks at him several times as she repeats what Joel just said to her. She starts chuckling, “Shagged means sex?!” Ellie turns into a mess of laughter. She’s clutching her sides. It’s not that funny. But you like watching her have fun. It brings back the innocence and reminds you of childhood. You were young when the movie came out, and the world was ravaged by fungus a few years after. So you cherish this moment of hilarity. You rub your tummy and smile at how much fun you will have raising this new baby with Joel and Ellie -

You don’t make it to movie night because you’re busy with the nursery, and the thought of walking all the way to town hall makes you cringe. You don’t like going anywhere unless it is essential. You make Joel and Ellie do everything for you. There are still some things you do yourself.

You insist Joel and Ellie go. Ellie doesn’t fight it (she’s so excited to watch a piece of history), but Joel grumbles about it. He wants to stay and help. By helping, Joel means he wants to milk you. He can’t stop helping you, and it’s the only thing on his mind - Joel swears he even dreams about it now. However, there hasn’t been a single moment for him to help you. Tommy has Joel doing everything and anything, and between his brother and Ellie, Joel hasn’t had time for his new hobby.

So, after he drops Ellie off at the movie (making sure that she is settled and making sure that Tommy will bring her home after), Joel leaves and makes his way back to you. He wants to spend every free minute with you, but more importantly, this is the perfect opportunity to do what he’s been dreaming of without any interruptions. Joel needs his thirst quenched, and only one thing in this world can do it -

You hear him before you see him, and then you feel him. His arms wrap around your body, and he presses his chest into your back. You sink into the warmth, eyes closing and throat humming. His hands briefly touch your stomach before they find their rightful place. Joel cups your tits, placing each of them into his hands, and marvels at the heaviness. So full of his special cream.

“They’ve gotten bigger, haven’t they?” Joel murmurs. His cock is already hard and straining inside his pants. Hell, on the walk home, the prospect of milking you had him almost cumming right then and there.

“They’re definitely heavier,” Joel adds as he squeezes them. He notices you aren’t wearing a bra, and with one simple motion, he has his shirt on the floor (the only one that fits you). You’re facing him now, chest and belly exposed. The sight of you has him losing it. Joel feels happy and excited, and everything in between that. Joel can’t believe that you're his, and he’s yours. Nor can he believe his eyes because your tits are definitely bigger, and your nipples are already dewy with that milky nectar he loves so much.

Joel groans, latches his mouth onto your right side, and starts suckling like a starved man. Your nipple is already stiff and responsive, and you feel the sensation of milk rushing through to meet your partner’s greedy tongue. His hand expertly kneads the pillowy flesh, expressing even more of the sweet cream that has him hard as a rock. Joel starts to breathe deeper and sucks harder, causing you to moan.

Your fingers comb through Joel’s hair, and you hold him there because the pleasure of having Joel drain your tits is undeniable; in fact, the more Joel sucks and licks your nipple, the more your arousal grows. You have to remind him, “Joel…. We have less than ninety minutes -”

He grunts in response and moves his mouth to the other side he’s been neglecting. The feeling is indescribable, and you relish it. The relief Joel is giving you is insurmountable. But it also has you growing impatient with him. Your core is aching for his cock, and your hands travel over his body. You feel his muscles, thick and robust, beneath the plaid shirt. You need him now.

“Joel,” Your hand drops to the bulge in his jeans, and you gently rub it with purpose. The friction makes Joel groan, finally lifting his head from your tits. His eyes are filled with a dazy lustiness that makes you fumble with your words. Still, it doesn’t matter because Joel is suddenly pressing his lips against yours and kissing you with an ardour that makes you forget everything you are about to say.

You taste the substance that has Joel acting ravenous. It reminds you of cereal milk because it’s so sweet. You part from his lips, whispering, “Can I taste you now?”

He doesn’t have time to answer because you’re already lowering yourself to your knees, planting them on the ground in front of Joel. With one hand, you pop open the buttons of his jeans and pull down the zipper. Roughly, you tug at the opening and watch as his thick, luscious cock springs free from its confines. At the sight of it, you lick your lips. Your fingers wrap around his length and slide over his stiffness. The movement makes Joel shiver, and when your lips finally touch his cock, a groan escapes from his throat.

Joel has been so concerned about making you feel good that he forgot to consider himself. Suddenly, you thrust him inside your mouth while twisting your hand down his cock. He quickly fills your mouth, and his hand grasps your hair in hopes of controlling you. However, he’s fine with letting you have your way right now. It’s been a while since you had the opportunity to please him; Joel loves how the tip of his cock hits the back of your throat, and you’re so adept at sucking him off that his length doesn’t make you gag anymore -

Expertly, you glide your mouth from the hilt to the tip of Joel’s cock, coating it in your saliva. Joel’s eyes nearly roll into his head because it feels so fucking good. It’s the only thing he can tell you because he’s almost lost his mind from the bliss of your mouth sheathing his cock. You don’t stop until Joel gasps for air and asks you to stop.

“Babe, babe, babe,” His voice is husky, and he roughly pulls on your hair. You gasp and gaze up at him with a thick string of spit connecting your lips to his cock. Joel quivers at the sight and has to remember what he will say. You wait patiently. Obediently.

Breathlessly, he asks, “Do you want me to fuck you here? Or…”

Without skipping a beat, you reply, “Here,”

Joel doesn’t need to be told twice and is quick to shed his jeans before he starts to help you. You lean forward onto the palm of your hands and watch as Joel goes behind and begins to slide off the sweatpants you’re always wearing. Not that Joel minds. He knows it’s the only thing that fits you because you remind him every damn day. Once the sweatpants are off, he tosses them to the side and stares lovingly at your ass. It’s so round and perky and panty-less. He’s genuinely surprised, and it makes him smile.

He caresses your fleshy cheeks, asking, “Is this for me?”

Joel can’t see your face but can tell you are blushing. Sheepishly, you admit, “As soon as you left, I took them off - for easy access,”

“Oh, darlin’,” He swoons, “You’re so sweet to think of me,”

Joel pries your sweet cheeks apart and buries his face, his tongue immediately swirling around your puckered asshole. Mewls spill forth from your mouth, and you wiggle your hips, trying to splay them apart because your body needs more. Joel’s tongue slithers down, lapping the juice practically pouring out of your needy, swollen cunt. He licks and sucks with wild abandon, groaning at your deliciousness. He doesn’t stop until you are begging him, “Joel, fuck me. Fuck me with your big cock, please. Oh god, fuck me, already!”

He removes his mouth from your exterior and replaces it with his cock. He rubs and rubs his bulbous crown between your molten wetness, gliding it back and forth until it’s coated with your slickness. When he thinks it’s enough, he pushes into your tight cunt. At first, your channel is resistant. But slowly, your velvety walls happily start devouring Joel’s cock until his entire length basks in the warmth.

You are gasping at the sensation of being stretched out. It’s almost too much in this position, and a small rock of Joel’s hips gives way to your first orgasm. Your vision swirls as a wave of ecstasy comes crashing through. Your fingers grip the carpet as your cunt swells and clenches his cock. Your back arches as you cry out, “Fuck, Joel,”

Immediately, he stops, thinking he has hurt you or the baby. Panic-stricken, he asks, “What’s wrong?”

“N-n-nothing,” You stutter out, attempting to catch your breath. Your lungs greedily suck in the air, saturated with the smell of sex. You tell him, “You made me cum,”

“Already?” He murmurs and devilishly thinks about the five times he made you cum last week. Joel rocks his hips again, and you whimper at the movement. At a glacial pace, Joel pulls out before sliding back in and burying his cock to the hilt. You’re gripping the carpet and moaning like crazy. He’s sure the neighbours can hear you, which drives Joel forward. He wants them to know how good he is at fucking you.

Joel grabs your hips, nails sinking into the fleshy bits, and plows in and out of your pussy. He’s pulling all the way out and pushing all the way in, ensuring you feel every inch of his girthy length. Your body is rocking beneath his, tits swaying like udders. You reach between your legs to touch your clit. It’s pulsating and yearning to be touched. You gingerly circle it, knowing a light touch is enough to send you over the edge. And you’re right because, within seconds, your second orgasm is rolling through.

You wail, “Joel, Joel, Joel,” but Joel doesn’t stop this time. He continues to youthfully spear your pussy and watches as your creamy juices coat his cock. Vigorously, you rub your clit because a third orgasm is imminent. Your back arches and your hips are high in the air, and Joel stops, pulling out completely, to watch as your pussy trembles with another orgasm. Your thighs are dripping with your juices, and his name still spills out of your mouth. Repeatedly.

His hand squeezes your hip, “Mmm, darlin’. That’s your third one - should we slow down? Don’t want to hurt -”

“Need more,” You interrupt him, “Need to cum more, Joel,”

Joel shakes his head, “Darlin’,'' He knows you aren’t thinking straight, driven to recklessness because of the pure ecstasy that has raptured your body. You turn over, laying on your back. You splay your legs apart, and your pussy glistens in the light. It’s so swollen, so puffy. Your hand is back, and your fingers are working your clit. But from this angle, it’s a little more challenging because of your protruding belly. And it’s making you frustrated. Especially because Joel is just watching, not helping.

“Joel,” You growl, “Fuck me,”

A single eyebrow of his shoots up, and you begrudgingly mutter, “Please,”

Much to your surprise, Joel moves. However, instead, he hovers above your chest and settles his cock in the valley of your tits. His hands squeeze them, and the milk for his unborn child sprays out, sprinkling across your chest and hitting his cock. At first, Joel goes slow, his cock passing between your tits. It’s a different kind of friction and holy hell… it feels good. His cock, slippery with your juices and milk, has him gliding through your breasts with ease. He grips harder and fucks your tits faster, rocking his hips back and forth.

As he slips in and out, he milks your bountiful breasts in the process. He does it until you are soaked. He’s breathing hard, and his balls are tightening. He’s close, so fucking close. But he doesn’t want to finish like this because he knows you want more orgasms, and who is he to deny his pregnant partner? You have been carrying his baby for months, and it hasn’t been easy. And Joel knows that once the baby is born, you won’t be able to have sex for weeks. Not until you’re healed. So, why not let you live a little?

He pulls his cock out of your cleavage and moves his face to yours, kissing you passionately. His tongue swirls and mingles with yours before he shifts down. Joel latches his mouth around your nipple and practically inhales a gulp of cream into his mouth. He doesn’t swallow and comes back up, kissing you again. Messily, Joel washes your mouth with your milk. It’s sweet and warm, and it’s fucking kinky as hell. It has you moaning into Joel’s mouth. He moans back, letting you know he loves every moment of it too.

As he continues to kiss you, Joel reaches down and takes his cock, sliding it over your puffy and sensitive lips before pressing it into your velvet channel. Your body welcomes him, and your mouth drops, gasping as you effortlessly fit his entire length . Once more, Joel explores your warm depths with a vigorous youthfulness. His flesh is clapping yours over and over until you are yelling his name over and over. Your hands are gripping his forearms, nails digging into his skin.

“Mmm, Joel, mmm, Joel, gonna cum, Joel, mmm - fuck, fuck, fuck!” Your eyes roll back, and an unwavering fourth climax raptures your body. A euphoric release rolls across your body, and you undulate beneath Joel. He watches as your belly quivers, and he feels your cunt trying to expel him, and when he does finally pull out, a massive bolt of liquid escapes - he realizes you’re squirting. Something he’s only heard rumours about. He’s astonished by the amount of liquid that is coming out and by how long your orgasm is lasting.

Meanwhile, you are gasping for air, lungs greedily gulping it down. You have no idea what happened; all you know is it’s a big wet mess down there. You’re gazing at Joel, cock-drunk. Orgasm-drunk. Your brain is buzzing with satisfaction. Your fixation on cumming has been satiated. However, your partner is still rock hard. He still needs to cum, and he’s more eager than ever before. He shoves his cock back in, and the molten wetness has his cock quivering as his climax punches through, pushing him over the edge.

He doesn't warn you. He doesn’t have to - the damage is done. You’re reaping what he sowed. Joel shoots his seed as far into you as possible with a single thrust. His hands touch your belly, caressing the soft skin, and he pushes his cock even deeper, where he empties the rest of his balls. When he pulls out, his cum mixed with yours oozes out from your crease and pools onto the carpet beneath you.

You dare to smile up at him, murmuring: “Thank you, Daddy,”

#joel miller x you #joel miller #joel miller x reader #pedro pascal #thewordypeach #joel miller smut #the last of us #tlof smut #freaks only <3 #the wordy peach #thewordypeachwrites #wpw

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izvmimi · 1 year

Text

cw: minors dni. masturbation. pathetic boy energy tbh. inappropriate use of fruit. lots of cum. extreme secondhand embarrassment. sex toy mention. fem!reader.

a/n: needy boys make do. i’m not sorry for this fic.

it’s disgustingly hot and humid this time of year, and izuku, despite his apartment sitting at a cool 68 degrees Fahrenheit, feels so warm he thinks he’ll lose his mind.

it’s probably because he’s been fucking himself into a frenzy, the sweat from nearly an hour of pleasure-chasing sticking his curls to his forehead, fingers even stickier with repeated spurts of cum that do nothing to relieve the tension. extreme stress and loneliness - you’ve been gone for over a month on an overseas trip - combine to create the most sexually frustrated man on earth. it’s dark in the room and his brain is clouded, staring at pictures of you despite the fact that his alarm is set to pick you up at the airport in two and a half hours. his rough, scarred palm rubbing up and down his length is an awful replacement for your soft, warm, wet cunt, no matter how much lube he adds.

desperate. if you could see him now, cumming again at just the thought of putting it inside you once again after he picks you up, you’d think he was a little too whipped for you. and so what? you are it for him, after all.

it’s 8pm, and the primal heat inside won’t abate. how many times has he cum already? he’s lost count, and now he’s wondering if he was struck with some virility quirk he hasn’t yet encountered. either way, his throat is dry, and he takes a break, bringing himself off soiled sheets and stripping them off the bed. you deserve a clean bed to spend the night in, even if he hopes he can mess them up further, this time with both of your bodies, not just his.

not bothering to put on pants in his own apartment, he deposits the messy linen into the dirty laundry and hides it away, then makes his way to the kitchen. pouring himself an ice cold glass of water that he gulps down with the fridge door still open. he wonders why and how he could still possibly be horny, and if he should jack off one more time or wait and risk getting scolded by you for trying to fuck you in the car. no matter how hard he cuts it, his imagination and his hand is simply not enough. he needs something more to quench his thirst -

and then as he turns he sees it.

a large, oblong shaped watermelon sits on the countertop. untouched. something that his mom brought by for you two to share once you touched down. it’s elongated, and heavier than it looks, which means it’s juicy, and-

no. he can’t stoop this low.

he places the glass in the sink, and turns and it’s there again. about the thickness of your hips.

no. he cannot go this far. even if he can feel the tingle in his cock again and it’s up, yet again, waiting for his attention.

he swallows.

there’s a knife left in the sink, and his resolve breaks.

---

a couple hours later, izuku leads you into his apartment, tidied up just for you, and once the door closes behind you, he whisks you up again, just like he did at the airport, an action that makes you giggle before you demand he puts you down.

“but i missed you so much!” he makes a playful show of frowning which you just as playfully roll your eyes at before hissing for him to put you back on the ground.

“put me down, midoriya!”

“fineeeeee,” he pretends to roll his eyes, as you put away your coat in the hallway closet. he takes the rest of your bags as you’re spending the weekend before returning to your own place, and quickly sets them in his bedroom, expecting you to follow him.

you don’t, he realizes after a few seconds.

wondering why you’re trailing behind, he goes back out to search for you.

“babe?”

and then it occurs to him, and his heart nearly stops.

he finds you in the kitchen - the fucking kitchen - and not the living room as he had anticipated, and you’ve dropped your keys on the small table in the corner and are now washing your hands at the sink.

besides you is a watermelon and you’re looking directly at it.

his belly is stricken with panic. you, however, don’t look upset or offended, just confused, and you turn off the water and shake your hands out.

“what the hell happened to this watermelon?” you ask, curiously.

he blinks a few times rapidly, heart racing, then realizes that from your vantage point, you can only see that it no longer has a smooth contour, but rather a suspiciously symmetric pattern of indentations. however, his... accommodation is turned away from you, and -

he makes his way over to you quickly, leaning so that his back is facing the offending fruit.

“what do you mean? n-nothing happened.”

you blink, then shift him aside ever so gently, noticing that he’s not budging, and you give him a look before he moves reluctantly so that you can better inspect it.

“i need to start shopping with you more often,” you insist.

midoriya is praying to every god, every spirit, every vestige, every all might figure even, that you don’t touch it and instead go for a bathroom break before dinner so that he can toss his shame out the window.

but of course, when you start going, you’re really going.

you reach over for it and he can see his life flash before his eyes.

“__, how about we-?” he tries to intercept but you’ve already pulled it towards you.

the watermelon rolls.

and it leaks.

white, watery liquid, mixed with flecks of watermelon flesh, clearly leaks out of a hole, that is exactly the girth of your boyfriend’s cock, and the two of you watch it seep, until it’s dripping off the counter, and creating a puddle on the linoleum. not a word is shared between you two. by the time you finally turn to look at izuku, he is so ghostly white, you’re pretty sure you can see not only his soul, but every prior user of OFA leave his body.

stunned, your mouth moves before you can even think of what to say.

“d-did you... fuck a watermelon...?”

his mouth opens and closes like a fish, and you look away from him, and back to the incredible scene in front of you, then back at him.

you rub your eyes. “i’m not imagining this, am i? you actually came inside this fruit?”

izuku immediately defends himself with his hands raised, which is the worst possible move. “i-it didn’t feel as good as you!”

it’s your turn to open and close your mouth. izuku winces as though he’s been physically punched.

“t-thank you?” you offer, incredulous.

you’re at an impasse. one of you is fucking fruit and the other one has just found out. the good news is your pussy is better than the watermelon’s. the bad news is izuku is looking at you with fear and you can’t decide whether it is justified or not.

all that on top of the fact that your fucking boyfriend is fucking fruit.

“babe-” he starts reaching for you, and you immediately raise a hand.

“i need a moment.”

he looks like he’s about to cry. you stand there again, eyebrows furrowed, wondering how to proceed, and then you take a deep breath.

“explain.” your arms are crossed and you’re trying to sound gentle if not desperately confused.

“I... you...” he’s making desperate hand gestures, at a loss for words and you rub your temples. he immediately gives up.

“please don’t leave me,” he begs. “i missed you and-”

“watermelon was good enough?”

his jaw drops, and somehow, somewhere, something snaps, and you start laughing hysterically. you laugh for an entire minute straight, doubled over and clearly insane, and izuku at some point wonders if somehow this was your limit - somehow, he broke you by fucking fruit and maybe he should start running rather than explaining.

finally, after what seems like forever, your laughter comes to a close, and you rub tears out of your eyes, and he still looks absolutely devastated - you can see him lose the strength in his legs and tears fill his because you’re gonna dump him and tell everyone that #1 up and comer Pro Hero Izuku has a fruit fetish and you almost start laughing again but try to keep it to one giggle before asking:

“did you shower?”

confused by the sudden pivot, he croaks out a “what?” you grin devilishly and step just a little bit closer.

“did you shower or am I gonna have to pull watermelon bits out of your foreskin? I can’t afford a yeast infection, Mr. Hero.”

his eyes glimmer with hope as he nods yes.

“so you’re not dumping me?”

you giggle again, then step even closer, fingers playing with the seam of his pants before you unbutton them, and he looks at you as though you are the goddess of mercy incarnate.

“no, you clearly need pussy STAT,” you whisper with a devious smile.

---

between sticky but thankfully not sugary sweet sheets, you rest atop of izuku so-desperate-to-fuck-you-he-tried-mellussy midoriya’s chest, your own cheeks flushed with lovemaking and the apartment feeling slightly too hot.

“you need to turn down the heat in here,” you whine.

“it’s at 68,” he frowns. he’s still breathing a little heavy, but finally he looks satisfied and tired out as he rests his arm around your waist. the other caresses your hair, and you think briefly about how he just caressed your insides, or rather completely rearranged them.

“it needs to be 65,” you mumble.

he sighs.

“fine.”

you let a finger trail up and down the curve of his face, then look him in the eyes.

“also, you need a pocket pussy.”

izuku reddens deeply, then protests.

“no the fuck i don’t.”

he fell into your trap immediately. “what, is the produce aisle cheaper?”

“___!”

you bury your face in his chest, laughing still.

“i have to admit the desperation’s kinda sexy... but pocket pussy for Christmas it is.”

he groans and you beam because he will never live this down, as long as the two of you live.

#izuku smut #izuku midoriya smut #izuku midoriya x reader smut #pro hero deku smut #daydreams: bnha #thoughts: izuku #mimi's notes

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moresinfulmockingbird · 10 months

Note

Hope this isn’t too many people I’m requesting (if so just pick some!) but step mommy/sister Cocolia Kafka tingyun and pela and how they’re with trying to keep their forbidden love undercover! (Female reader please)

HOW TO KEEP IT HIDDEN | HSR Ladies

PAIRING: Cocolia, Pela, Tingyun, & Kafka x Afab!Reader

WARNINGS: Suggestive Content, Dom!Cocolia, Dom!Kafka, Sub!Pela, Sub!Tingyun, Stepcest, Not entirely explicit

AUTHORS NOTE: I usually allow people to request up to four different characters, so you have nothing to worry about!

✧ COCOLIA

• When Cocolia first married your parent, she hadn't exactly given you the time of day. She really just ignored you and payed attention to her spouse, not that you complained.

• But a few weeks into the marriage she finally really looked at you, and I mean really looked when she ended up walking in on you getting out of the shower.

• Since then her mind has been plagued with thoughts of you and your body.

• It was shameful to have these thoughts about her new stepdaughter, but she couldn't control them! She couldn't control how attracted she was to you...

• She'd try her hardest to hold herself back though, so she kept her feelings hidden.

• Though at some point she wasn't going to be able to hold herself back, especially when you so shamelessly walk around the house in a shirt and underwear.

• Oh how badly Cocolia wants to pin you to the kitchen counter and eat you out...

✧ PELA

• Poor Pela couldn't help the nasty thoughts flowing through her brain when she first met you.

• She had the immediate desire to kiss you, to see you naked and have you dominate her.

• But the fact that she was meeting you as her new stepsister quickly shattered her perverted thoughts and imagination.

• How unfortunate it was for her to be infatuated with a person that was her new sibling. So, Pela resorted to watching you from the sidelines instead, loving you in secret.

• It would start with her sneaking into your room and stealing your underwear for her gratification, but then that would evolve to watching you when your alone, watching the times you'd play with yourself.

• Pela was obsessed, she wanted you to be finger fucking her own pussy like you do to yours, she wanted to kiss you and gave you make her scream your name.

• But no, instead she'd wait and watch, at least until she had the courage to go further.

✧ TINGYUN

• Tingyun is the best at hiding her attraction for you, ever since the first time she met you at your parents wedding.

• She's best at just admiring you from afar, gazing at your beauty in more subtle ways than Pela could ever dream of doing.

• She's also not embarrassed of her desires to have you finger fucking her from behind, pushing her head into the pillows and ruining her.

• There were countless nights where she'd wake up sweating and having creamed in her underwear at the wet dreams she has of you. She desperately wants to crawl into your bed and hump herself against your leg while you sleep.

• But she has some surprising self restraint, and she's able to quench her thirsts the best she can, just to prevent her from doing anything forceful on you.

• She does like to lay in your bed when you aren't home, cuddled up in your sheets and having your pillow in between her legs as she humps it desperately while smelling your favorite shirt.

• But she's great at covering her tracks after she does those things, always leaving your bed and room as though nothing had happened.

✧ KAFKA

• Kafka found an immediate attraction to you after she married your parent.

• When meeting you at they're wedding, she couldn't stop the immediate filthy thoughts she had. Thoughts of what she wanted and could do to you.

• Out of these four, she's the least likely to try and keep her attraction for you, her stepdaughter, a secret. She can't begin to have to keep such feelings a secret.

• Instead of acting on them, even though she desperately wanted to, she stuck to small gestures.

• She'd brush her lips against your neck when fixing your hair, or running her hands across your waist when helping you try on clothes.

• She'd hug you a few seconds too long, and would hold a hand on the lower of your back a bit too low.

• Kafka is shameless about not hiding her attraction, but she won't make any more until you do, because she doesn't want to be at fault for starting an affair with her parents daughter.

ENDING NOTE: Someone give me more perverted Pela, I need her.

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not-neverland06 · 18 days

Text

How About a Nuke?

Part I / Part II / Part III

The ghoul x fem!reader A/N: Part three is going to be when it gets juicy, this is just them becoming reacquainted. You’ll get the good angst in the next parts. Summary: Your dreams of stardom and fame have been blown away. Your old life is lost to the sands of this new world and you find yourself utterly confused. There’s a man who looks an awful lot like Cooper yelling at you, but it’s not the man you remember loving. Not anymore.

For two days he’s been following the sound of sirens. With no new bounties, he hasn’t got much else to do with his time. Plus, he’s hoping that maybe if he figures out what’s been causing all this noise he can shut it the fuck up. Didn’t matter how far he walked, the blaring wail was echoing across the whole damn wasteland.

A cough started up in his chest, itching into his throat and rattling his whole body as it ripped its way out of him. He tried to walk through the discomfort but it wouldn’t let him. He leaned over, hands braced on his knees, and coughed so hard he could feel ass jerky coming back up from his “dinner” last night. He clamped a hand over his mouth and forced the bile down. Frantic hands dug through the bag on his side, shaking as he ripped the box open and grabbed his inhaler.

It took a minute before the drugs had the desired effect, and even then he was still fighting back nausea. He’s got to find a new dealer, that bitch in Filly was watering down her supply and he knew it. Not just that, she was overcharging too, on account of his being a ghoul.

Even in the apocalypse money still managed to rule the world. Even if it was in the form of Nuka caps. He walked a little further before leaning against a boulder for a break. He wiped spittle off his lips and surveyed his surroundings.

There was a faded old billboard sunken into the sand, only half of it sticking out. The paper was curled and browned from age and the sun, but he could make it out well enough. Quench Your Thirst, it wasn’t one of hers, though. It was the girl they’d replaced her with. He contemplated shooting it, just so he wouldn’t have to stare at the girl anymore, but it was a waste of bullets.

Instead, he pushed off the rock and forced himself to keep going. The noise was unbearable now, rattling around his brain and making his ears bleed the closer he got. He must be right on it, only a little while longer and he’d finally turn the damn thing off.

He lifted a leathered hand to block the sun out of his eyes. He kept squinting, disbelieving in the sight before him. Vault 111 was sitting pretty among the skeletons and dunes of sand. It’s big white numbers upside down as the door was slid open, alarms ringing out and red flashing lights dancing around within the vault.

He couldn’t believe it. Vault dwellers were practically extinct in the Wastelands, nevermind actually getting into their vaults. But here this one sat, open and ready for the taking. Normally, he wouldn’t risk it, even just to turn off those fucking alarms. But he had just used his last vial and if he didn’t get his hands on some good shit soon, well, best not to imagine it.

Hand on his holster he started forward, eyes darting back and forth to make sure this wasn’t some sort of trap set by raiders. He didn’t imagine they were smart enough to do that, but apparently Muldaver’s been on the move, this could be her people’s doing. He’d rather not have to listen to someone whining on about a better life and a kind society.

He’d believe it when he saw it. All people were capable of was greed and lust, it’s been the same before the bombs and it will be the same after.

He stepped inside, eyes pained as they adjusted to the stark contrast of the glaring sun outside and the soft fluorescent lights within the vault. He spotted a big red button and slammed his palm down on it. The sirens, thank fuck, shut off, but the lights kept going.

There was a gap between his platform and the next. The control panel clearly needed a Pip-Boy to be operated but he didn’t see any nearby. He sighed and took a running leap, just barely making it to the other side.

He took another suspicious look around, still not quite sure he was completely safe. His chest tightened with the irritating feeling of an oncoming coughing fit. “Fuck it,” he muttered, starting through the open doorway without a glance back.

Whatever had happened in here had been messy and recent. He kneeled down next to a puddle of blood and dipped an ungloved finger in, still warm. He popped open his holster and tugged out the gun, better to be safe than dead.

He had been following the direction the lights had been pointing this whole time, hoping maybe he’d stumble across an infirmary. These vault fucks had to have left at least one bag of radaway behind. So far, though, he didn’t have high hopes. Everything was ransacked. The bodies that were left behind had been stripped naked and beaten to unidentifiable pulps.

So far, the vaults had at least been air conditioned. If nothing else he was getting a break from the sweltering heat that trailed him on the surface. He’d already tested out one of the sinks down here, their water was still functioning. Maybe he could get some of the blood caked under his nails cleaned out.

While the air conditioning had been nice, the breeze that was coming from the door across the way would have had goosebumps rising on him if he was still capable of that. His head tilted in contemplation as he stared at it. Above every door was meant to be an indicator of what went on in there.

There wasn’t for this one, though. And despite knowing better, he had to admit, he was pretty curious. He strode forward, tucking the gun back in his holster and slamming the button on the right side of the door. The second it slid open, whatever had been sealing the noise inside broke.

He flinched away from the sounds of sirens and covered his ears, cussing up a storm as he slammed the button once more. It clicked uselessly but didn’t send the door down again. “Fuck,” he hissed, stepping inside and grunting as the cold bore down on him ten times worse than before.

Cryogenics, well, the temperature made sense now.

He stared at each of the pods, the windows frosted over with cold and making it impossible to see the people within. He took his time examining them, trying his best to see if anyone he knew was in one of them. Despite it all, he held a little hope that he might see Janey, maybe even Barb.

Without any luck he headed towards the terminal, he could probably get the sirens to shut the fuck up this way. Or maybe just get this door closed again.

In neon green a warning sign flashed over and over across the screen.

LIFE SUPPORT: CRITICAL FAILURE.

He glanced back over his shoulder and scoffed. Rich fucks hadn’t thought to have a back up, or did they really think their buddy Vault-Tec would keep them safe? He shook his head and clicked away the warning. He peered through the list of commands but couldn’t find anything except a list of who was in the pods.

He figured he might as well see if he spotted a familiar name. If they were alive he might be able to get some information off of them. It wasn’t until the bottom of the list that he saw anything helpful. Your name stood out bright and bold and beside it the message:

LIFE SUPPORT FAILING

RISK OF ASPHYXIATION:

The colon blinked a few times and he drummed his finger impatiently on the sides of the terminal. Finally the risk analysis loaded and he let out a rough exhale.

RISK OF ASPHYXIATION: IMMINENT

REMOVE SUBJECT IMMEDIATELY

His eyes widened and without thinking he clicked the little button. A moment later he heard something creak open, the seal of the pod broken as air rushed out. He turned around and faced your pod, of course it was the one right beside him.

He ran forward, catching you just as you slumped out of the seat. Your skin was like ice, your lips blue and face purple from choking. It was all swollen, like you’d been struggling to get air in for a while before he came. He frowned down at your limp form, shaking you slightly as he waited for you to take in a breath.

“Hey,” he brought a rough hand down on your cheek, the leather striking loudly against your skin.

Your lips parted and you took in a deep breath, gasping as your hands flew up to your throat. You turned over, falling out of his arms and landing roughly on the metal grates of the floor. He took a step back, watching as you hacked yourself back to life, your lungs nearly coming out with how hard you were coughing.

His head tilted as he observed you. You looked damn near the same as the last time he saw you. The only real difference being the slutty little black slip you had on. He scoffed and shook his head. So that’s where you’d disappeared to, sold yourself out to Vault-Tec for some apocalyptic protection.

Lot of good that did you.

You clawed at your throat, air feeling like razor blades as you greedily inhaled. You’re not sure where you are, you can barely feel your extremities, you’ve got an uncomfortable draft on your backside. You wince as you sit up, wiping your blurry eyes in the hopes they’ll clear up, metal digs into your skin as you do.

It’s like when you get too cold during winter and your eyes frost over a little bit. Except, this doesn’t feel like a little bit. You can’t even see your own hand right now. All you can make out is faint outlines of everything, blurry little clouds of color.

“Hello?” Someone was here, you could tell that much. You just didn’t know who. Metal creaked in front of you and you scrambled back. They weren’t saying anything. Why weren’t they saying anything?

You wracked your brain for the last thing you could remember and felt tears building along your lashes. Oh god. “Tom?” You called out hesitantly. Maybe they’d changed their minds. Maybe the men who’d grabbed you had dumped you off somewhere.

You didn’t want to think about what they’d done while you were asleep. You were slowly becoming more aware of your surroundings and very aware of the skimpy slip you had on right now. Not even close to what you’d been wearing when they grabbed you. You wrapped your arms around yourself in a meager attempt at comfort.

“That who you fucked, sweetheart?”

Your brows turned down. “Cooper?” He sounded a little rough, his accent more pronounced, but you’d know his voice anywhere. It was as familiar to you as your own. “Cooper, where am I?” The tears were spilling freely now the longer he stared at you in silence. At least crying was starting to thaw out your eyes.

You could more clearly make out his form now, looming overtop of you like some sort of dark omen. You always felt safe with Coop. When someone pushed you too much or got a little too aggressive, you could go to him.

Right now, though, you felt like prey in front of a wolf. There was no kindness in his words and only a cruel accusation in his tone. Dear god, where were you? And why would he think you would ever fool around with any of these sick fucks behind his back?

“Cooper, please, what happened?”

He barked out a laugh and you flinched back, “What happened? Well, lets see what the fuck happened.” You heard more than saw him pace across the metal floors, the spurs on his boots clanking loudly. Had he been at a party and come looking for you?

“You told me you’d be back for lunch and I didn’t see you for another two hundred years.”

Your stomach dropped to the floor, “What?” You whispered.

He knelt down in front of you. “Your eyes still foggy?” You nodded your head mutely. “Well,” he chuckled but it wasn’t the one you knew. This was something mean and sharp. “When those clear up, I’m not gonna look like you remember me, darling. Should probably get out of here before you realize what you’re talking to.”

He made to get up but you shot forward, blindly groping at the dark form of his torso until you latched onto his duster. “Cooper, please, I’m confused. I-” you looked around blindly, hoping to find something to explain how the last thing you remembered was eating pancakes with him. There’s no way in hell it’s been two hundred years.

“I went to Tom’s to get the script. He made me come in for drinks. There- there were all these men there, they grabbed me and I don’t remember anything after that. Cooper, please, I wasn’t wearing this when they snatched me. What the hell happened to me?”

There was a moment of silence before he let out a sigh. “You didn’t leave to find some safety in Vault-Tec?”

You frowned and let him go, shoving him away from you with as much force as your frozen muscles could muster up. “Fuck you, you think I’d do that to you? How little do you think of me?”

You reached out for the pod beside you, using it to get to your feet. You felt about as graceful as a newborn foal right now, all gangly limbs and stilted movements. You leaned over, catching your breath as you tried to walk forward.

“If I were you, I’d get back in that pod and let the world rot away. You’re not gonna do well on your own out here, honey.”

You heard his spurs moving past you and then made out his form as he walked through the doors of the room. “Cooper?” You called out, but you knew it was pointless. He was gone. The man you knew was gone and you had no clue what the fuck had happened.

He managed to finally find the infirmary, lucky enough that a few bags of Rad-Away had been left behind. They’d only had IV bags, so he’d spent a while trying to find a spot where his skin wasn’t so tough a needle could actually get through.

She had to be lying.

He felt himself trying to look at the door, like she’d step through, and forced his head down. He flicked at the IV bag, hoping that maybe it would speed it the fuck up. He needed to get out of here. The longer he stayed, the more he wanted to talk to her.

He’d changed a lot since they’d last seen each other. Whatever he had once felt for her was gone. The man he had once been was dead. There was no point in hurting the girl by giving her false hope. He sighed and leaned back against the wall, closing his eyes and trying to relax some.

He’d finish this bag, pack the others, and then he’d leave this vault behind. She could figure out what she wanted to do on her own. He didn’t have time for strays or old flames.

You stumbled around for a while before you finally got your bearings. You managed to make your way into what looked like an office and sat behind a curved desk. A terminal on top sat blinking bright green letters at you. You went through each of the logs, your dread only getting worse the longer you read.

Tom wasn’t in this vault, that’s for sure. The other names you only recognized from the credits of some movies you’d watched a while back. The men who had taken you from Tom’s house.

According to the scientist using this terminal, they’d wanted to ensure they had some fun before they went underground.

You weren’t the only one Tom had sold out. Your entire cryogenic chamber had been filled with other women, each of them dead because of a life support failure. You were meant to be their entertainment while they waited for the world to be ready for the taking.

You took a break, forcing your eyes away from the screen and staring down at your hands.

Well, Cooper hadn’t been lying at least. Two hundred years you’d been frozen, you hadn’t even known it. It was bizarre, what felt like only a few hours ago was over two millennia. You’d only just kissed Cooper goodbye and now he was acting like some asshole who wouldn’t even stay to help you to your feet.

Feeling yourself getting angry and panicked you went back to reading. There was nothing you could do. You’d been screwed over by someone you trusted, you were stuck here. No point in pouting about it.

The scientist wrote more about the men’s intentions and you forced the bile down as you read. Then he got to what Vault-Tec’s real intentions were. Something about experimenting with cryogenics, seeing how long a body could last, what all it could preserve. You didn’t understand most of it, the language far above your education.

The men were just guinea pigs, same as you. It brought you a modicum of satisfaction. Barely, though.

The lead of the whole project gets more cryptic and paranoid the further he writes. Something about Vault-Tec never sending the all clear signal to get the fuck out of here. Security was getting antsy the longer they stayed and supplies were running low.

It didn’t take a genius to put two and two together when you looked at the blood splattered walls and the white coated corpse across the room.

Underneath the last entry was a fail safe. In case the experiment was going wrong and there were no other options but to abandon it.

TERMINATE?

The green pointer blinked as you stared at the question. Your mind traveled to the way they’d swarmed you. How ruthlessly they’d taken you like you were nothing more than cattle. The other women they did it to. You could only imagine what had happened while you’d been knocked out.

That familiar feeling of anger, disgust, and shame welled up in you. You had always been typecast. The sexy bombshell with nothing else going for her. It bled into other aspects of your life, people treating you like you were nothing more than a walking doll, for their enjoyment and nothing else.

You’d be damned if you let these men survive what the other women couldn’t.

You hit the button and listened as the sirens quieted down the hall, the hiss of oxygen as the pods killed their inhabitants. You didn’t allow yourself to linger on what you’d just done for very long, you went clicking through the rest of the terminal.

Most of it was password locked, you only gleamed enough information to figure out what had been going on while you slept. Bombs dropped, the world went to shit, just like you always thought it would. You’d never considered that you might survive it.

Maybe those men had done you a slight favor, just barely.

He sighed as he ripped the needle out of his arm, pulling his sleeve down he moved away from the wall he’d been leaning on. He’d definitely been getting cheated out of his caps. Next time he saw that bitch Ma June, he’d show her what he thought about her watered down bullshit.

A shadow passed by the doorway and his hand drifted down to his holster. He slipped out of the room and took a peek around the corner. She had her back to him, but he’d recognize her anywhere, even with that ridiculous vault suit on.

“Hey!”

She jumped and whirled around on him. For a moment he forgot that this was a completely new reality for her. She didn’t know what a ghoul was, she’d never seen one before. Her last memory of him had been his prime. When he’d had a fucking nose.

Her eyes widened and his grew cold while he waited for the inevitable disgust. He was used to it by now, but he was pretty sick and tired of hearing about it. Especially when the few people who managed to get their hands on his old movies would recognize him.

The disgust never came, just obvious shock and disbelief. She took a few hesitant steps closer, her eyes darting across his face while she did. He nearly missed her hand coming up, like she wanted to touch him. He caught it at the last second, bringing his hand up to swat hers down.

She winced and backed up a step, the wonder on her face gone and replaced with hurt. “Cooper-”

He darted forward and snatched her chin in between his gloved fingers. “Now, darling, I’m gonna need you to get this through your fucking head,” he hissed, eyes boring into her terrified ones. “That’s not my name anymore, I’m nothing but a ghoul. I’m not the man you know and I’m never going to be. Let it go and if you know what’s good for you, move the fuck on.”

He could see the tears welling up in her eyes and grinned, she had always been pretty when she cried. “Understand?” When she didn’t respond fast enough for his liking he shook her roughly, “Speak!”

“Yes,” she shouted, clawing at his arm and wincing when her nails scraped across the leather of his skin. “I understand.” He took a moment, looking into her eyes, before he nodded and released her.

She stumbled back, choking on a sob and glaring up at him. “So, what? Am I just supposed to call you an asshole?” He scoffed, barely laughing. Everything that happened to her today and she could still get a fucking attitude. It was nearly impressive, if not stupid. She didn’t watch who she spoke to and she was going to get killed before the day was up.

“You’re not gonna call me anything. We’re not working together, you’re on your own.”

She glared at him and rubbed her jaw where he’d grabbed her. Her cheeks were already changing colors, bruises blooming where he’d snatched her. His eyes darted away from her hands and back to her. “Why’d you stop me then?”

He looked her up and down and grinned at the way she shivered, seemed he hadn’t lost all his charm just yet. “That tight little suit of yours is gonna get you killed. People up there don’t take too kindly to people from down here.”

She rolled her eyes and crossed her arms, glaring at him. “So, what? I’d be safer walking around in what they had me in?”

He shook his head and started walking back towards the door of the vault. “No.”

He heard her huff and race after him. “You’re fucking infuriating, you know that? What the hell am I supposed to do, Co-” He shot her a warning glare but she’d clamped her mouth shut before she could finish the sentence. She still had that stupid hurt look on her face, like he’d kicked her puppy. It kind of made him want to just shoot her.

“I don’t have any supplies, all I have is this stupid suit. Please, I don’t know what I’m supposed to do.”

He sighed and stopped. She stumbled forward, nearly ramming into his back in the process. “Go to Filly, I’m sure you’ll find something there.”

“I’m supposed to just know where that is?”

He didn’t bother responding to her, there was no point in it. She would be dead soon, anyway. This world wasn’t made for pretty girls like her, especially not on her own. If she was smart she’d just starve herself down here, at least she’d have running water.

You watched him walk off and felt like your chest was going to cave in. You couldn’t handle this, he was just Cooper an hour ago. Making you breakfast and kissing you goodbye. And despite the odd deformities, you could still see him. Sure, he was missing a nose, but he was still there. Your Cooper.

Except he wasn’t.

You couldn’t quite believe he would be so cruel earlier. He was always mean when he was hurt. You figured maybe he was still sitting with the fact that you hadn’t actually left him behind for Vault-Tec. But his eyes gave him away.

They were cold, devoid of anything you used to know. The man you had known was no longer there. And if he was, he was buried far deeper than you were interested in digging. You watched him walk away and felt your chest squeezing painfully.

This was not the fucking time to start panicking. If the carnage around you was anything to go by, then the surface had to be so much fucking worse. Cooper seemed to think vaults were safer, but right now you were staring into the gouged eyes of a corpse who’d been killed by a friend. Clearly, nowhere was safe.

You couldn’t afford to pity yourself or cry. You’d have to keep moving, process it all later. You pushed off the wall and leapt over the corpses blocking your path. Cooper must’ve stepped in a pile of blood because you could clearly make out his footprints. He seemed like he was going to leave, you bet if you followed him you would find the way out.

You followed the prints up a set of stairs, but they had faded out completely by the time you got up to the vault door. You winced, blocking your eyes from the bright glare of the sun. Barely a second out of the vault and you felt like your skin might already be peeling.

Whatever had happened while you were out, this was not the world you remembered. The sun seemed bigger, brighter, more violent. If the skeletons littered throughout the sand were anything to go by, everything was more violent now.

You tripped over a particularly deformed skull of a beast and scrambled up to your feet. You glanced around, spotting a figure in the distance and ran after it. You hoped it was Cooper you were following, but he was already so far ahead of you that he was barely a dot on the horizon.

You followed the footsteps he left in the sand and prayed he didn’t notice you trailing him. You couldn’t very well stay down there with all of those corpses. There had been no supplies to protect yourself with except a bloodied scalpel. You wouldn’t make it down there on your own and you certainly wouldn’t make it up here.

You planned to just follow Cooper until you found something resembling civilization. He didn’t want you around him and you got the message, you’re not exactly eager to share his company. He’s a stranger, the only part of him you recognize is his name, and you’re not even allowed to use that.

You kept your distance as long as you could. Keeping him as far away as possible so if he turned around he wouldn’t be able to realize he was being followed. But you’re already struggling. He’s not showing any signs of slowing anytime soon and you can barely see anymore.

Your lips are peeling, throat raw and aching for water. Your eyes are completely coated in sand and being damaged by the sun. You wished you had been better prepared for this but it’s been at least four hours and you’re about to keel over.

You wheeze, dragging yourself over to a fallen billboard and slumping against it. You’re not paying enough attention to your surroundings, or you just don’t care anymore. You find yourself drifting off and you don’t stop it. You’d prefer if the heat stroke took you while you were asleep, at least then you wouldn’t be aware of it.

Your eyes drift closed and your head slumps forward, the sun bearing down on your neck and burning away at the skin there.

You cough and splutter, frantically brushing sand off your face and spitting it out of your mouth. Cooper’s standing over you, frowning and glaring, which seems to be his go to expression now. You glance down at his outstretched foot and realize he kicked the sand in your face. “What the fuck?”

“You know,” he tilts his head and rests a hand on his holster, grinning at the way you shrink away from his gun. “I thought you would have lasted at least another hour.”

You wipe your face off and struggle back onto your feet, nearly teetering over as you did. “You knew I was following you?” You groused, glaring up at him. You’re not sure your anger translates well, though. You can barely hear your own voice, your throat too dry to produce any proper words.

“‘Course I did, sweetheart. I’d be a pretty shit bounty hunter if I didn’t recognize when someone was trailing me.”

You finally manage to get to your feet and glare at him. “Congratulations, you want a prize?”

His smile drops and he darts forward before you can move away. His hand clamps around your arm and he drags you behind him. You’re stumbling, barely able to keep in stride with him. Mercifully, you notice the sky is starting to turn pink in the distance. Soon, the sun will be down and you’ll get a moment's reprieve.

“Where are you taking me?” You demand, tripping over a rock and wincing as he jerks you back to your feet. He turns around to glare at you like he isn’t the one dragging you around.

“Filly,” he grunts. He finally comes to a stop, you ram into his back wincing as your nose slams into him painfully. He doesn’t even flinch and you wonder if he felt it. If he can feel anything with how crisped his skin is.

“I thought you weren’t going to help me.” Maybe you shouldn’t be pushing your luck. If he is helping you, and that’s a pretty hesitant if, you’re sure he’ll be quick to change his mind. Still, you can’t help but push him. You’ve always had that problem, except before he took it in stride and teased you right back.

Now, your eyes dart down to his gun, you’re not sure he wouldn’t just put a new hole in you.

“Changed my mind.”

You huffed and rolled your eyes, “Yeah, I’m aware. I’m asking why,” you cut yourself off sharply, mouth clamping shut because you almost called him Coop again. Your jaw is still aching from the last “warning” he gave you. You’re not looking for another.

He whirled around on you and you didn’t even realize his gun was in his hand until it was digging into your throat. “Why don’t you stop asking me so many fucking questions, hm.” He sneered and you winced at the sight of his yellowed teeth. Finally you nodded and backed away from him, he kept his eyes on yours for a moment before he holstered his gun again. “Let’s go,” he started walking and you couldn’t do anything but follow him.

At least this time you weren’t trying to track a dot in the distance.

The sky was getting dark quick and the temperature was dropping even faster. You hunched into yourself and ran your hands up and down your arms to try and keep warm. It seemed everything was done in the extremes now, even the damn weather.

Cooper whistled and you hurried to catch up with him. He stood in front of a decaying old house, nearly all of the roof gone. The walls looked like they might cave in soon and it had clearly been unoccupied for a very long time. He opened up the door and walked inside, letting it slam back into your face.

You caught it and huffed. You followed after him and saw that he was already setting up his spot for the night. He leaned against the half-rotted couch, his hat over his eyes and his arms tucked under his coat. You glanced around for a clean spot to curl up and laid down on the ground. You winced at all the dirt on the floor but figured it was better than sleeping out in the sand.

Despite your oh-so comfortable sleeping arrangement, you found it hard to pass out. Maybe it’s because you’d just taken a two hundred year nap or the man across from you. Your eyes refused to stay shut and you couldn’t stop staring at him.

You told yourself you would process your emotions later but apparently your mind had decided now would be the best time. You could feel the tears trickling down your cheeks again and you tried to wipe them away.

Too much had happened for them to be so easily dismissed. You were struggling with the thoughts of what those men did to you. You’re certain your imagination is worse than anything that happened, but not knowing was killing you. You felt violated, just being knocked out like that and being left vulnerable to them.

And Cooper.

Cooper was practically dead as far as you both were concerned. You felt like you were grieving for someone who was lying right across from you. You were staring right at him and he was just out of your reach.

You sniffled and wiped your nose. A loud sigh came from the man in front of you and he spoke without bothering to tilt his hat back up. “I’m gonna take you to Filly and you’re gonna help me with some business there and then we’ll go our separate ways.”

“What?” Your voice was an embarrassing croak and you winced.

“They don’t take too kindly to my folk down there-”

“You mean zombies,” you interrupted, propping your head up on your hand.

He finally lifted his hat up and glared, though it was half-hearted at best. “It’s ‘ghouls,’ sweetheart. Never knew you to be racist.” You rolled your eyes and he dropped his hat back down again. “You’ll get me what I need and I’ll have delivered you to, well, not safety, but as close as you can get out here.” He leaned forward, arm outstretched and grinning at you. “Deal?”

Well, it wasn't like you had any other options. You leaned forward, grasping his gloved hand in yours and shaking, “Deal.”

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