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vivalabunbun · 1 year

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Let's Look Over The Garden Wall

Summary: One wants an easy meal and one wants to play house.

Word Count: 9.9k

Tags: Alhaitham x Fem!Reader, Smut(r18+), MDNI, Modern AU, Vampire AU, Contract Marriage, NSFW, Fluff, Heavy Angst, Unrequited love?, Vampire! Alhaitham, Dom! Alhaitham, Human! Reader, biting, pet name? (calls you good girl) TW: Blood & Blood drinking, TW: Death, Terminally ill! Reader, slight orgasm denial, slight corruption kink, wedding night, temperature play? He falls hard, slow fic, tragedy

Authors note: This whole fic was a challenge since I wanted to write it kinda from Alhaitham’s pov. I’m not really knowledgeable about vampires, so in this fic they’re just a type of monster and not undead, and vampire blood can turn humans into monsters. Enjoy!

Side note: Here is the other side, Finale

The secretary had just arrived at the office not too long ago, shift starting at six pm and going until midnight. The typical hours for a creature of the night.

Like a sweet breeze that blew stray leaves through his office’s open window, a stranger came gallivanting through the boundaries of his door, contract in hand. Faruzan, the office receptionist trailing after you with your proper introduction.

“Secretary Alhaitham, this young lady here would like to make a blood contract with you.”

He certainly wasn’t expecting this when he walked through the sliding doors of the building. The biggest company in Sumeru, the firm that specialized in such dubious pacts.

In an age where humans now outnumber vampires, with new technologies and weapons that can now threaten the once untouchable creatures, immortal beings now have to play by mortal rules. One such rule, vampires can no longer drink human blood.

Animal substitutes were of course inferior in both taste and satisfaction, any vampire would know this. However, there’s a loophole to this law. Vampires can’t drink human blood legally unless it’s consensual by both parties, established through contracts. Business exchanges for money, power, or glory.

Of course, this practice is heavily regulated. Hunters who uphold the balance ready to rip the hearts out of those who dare make an unfair deal. Alhaitham is the simple secretary who files these contracts, not one of the agents tasked with such things.

Still, he’s intrigued. Even in this office there are many who have yet to see the face of this elusive vampire, how did this human identify him? He was looking for an excuse to stray away from dull lines of files, might as well entertain your musings.

The ashen-haired immortal pulls out a seat for you, nodding to Faruzan sending her out of his office, giving you privacy. Alhaitham ambles to the other side of the polished wood, settling down on his plush office chair.

“The process for filling a contract is straightforward, even though this consultation wasn’t planned, if negotiations go well you’ll then undergo a psychological evaluation.”

You nodded your head lightheartedly, posture relaxed in the chair.

“So,” he begins.

“What are your demands?”

“Marry me.”

Dead silence. He certainly wasn’t expecting a proposal this Monday night. Were you wasting his time with a joke?

You must’ve read his unfazed mask. Quickly pulling a pen and notepad from your pocket.

“I’m being serious, I want you to be my husband.” Hands swiftly jotting sentences down on paper.

In your graceless handwriting, you listed all your qualifications. Age, name, blood type, and financial status. You also detailed some self-prescribed personality traits.

Alhaitham skips over that section.

Marriage contracts weren’t unheard of, nor were marriages between humans and vampires. He believes such practices weren’t deemed illegal solely because of human morbid curiosity and desires.

No immortal, with their centuries of knowledge and wisdom, would waste such energy on a mortal, without a price of course. It would be a fool’s errand to not have fair compensation.

“For a fraction of your time, I’ll give you all of mine.” You point the pen toward him.

How romantic.

“I’d say you’re getting the better end of the deal, Mr. Alhaitham.” There’s a curl to your lips, resting your elbows upon his polished desk.

With a slight sigh, Alhaitham pulls out a form, pen swiftly recording the necessary information. There’s going to be a long process of straightening out the clauses, but this should suffice for approval.

“Why me?” He inquires, straightening out the proposal on his desk.

“You’re handsome, have money, and I like your voice.”

The rustling of papers and pens stopped. Dead unamused silence.

“Pfft! Too brash? Sorry, sorry, I was only joking,” giggling as you waved it off.

“Well, to be fair the real reason isn’t much better, to be honest.” You leaned in closer, creeping towards the unseen boundaries of his personal space.

“I often see you passing through the streets, guess I got enamored from there.” Your smile was shameless but your cheeks were tinted pink.

A hopeless romantic, that answer suffices him for now. He could’ve easily shown you the door, but life has been stagnant for a few decades. History repeats itself if you live long enough to see it, new occurrences are rare. As the sky deepens from indigo to midnight, two bodies sit across from each other, discussing sentences written on paper.

“I’ll contact you in three business days with the verdict, have a good night.”

“I shall await the news.” You beamed at him, warm and icy hands meeting for a handshake.

Just as you entered, you left with that same giddiness. Now left with his thoughts, Alhaitham reviewed the documents, he had three days to ponder whether or not to submit them to the legal team, and through the judgment of a certain scarlet-eyed General Hunter.

As per Sumeru regulations, all offices run by vampires must have uncovered glass windows. An attempt conquered by humans to enfeeble creatures of the night. Alhaitham’s beryl gaze traveled up the length of the building stationed across the street.

What an ironic placement for a hospital to be facing the biggest firm staffed by immortality. Or perhaps it was strategic, after all the most desperate humans are the ones who lay upon their deathbeds for one last hurrah.

The perfect scheme to keep the blood contracts flowing in.

Teal eyes observe the room right across through the glass, it seems freshly vacant. New untouched sheets, new unflatten pillow, and fresh towels.

Alhaitham can now confirm the validity of your statement, a half-truth.

When deciding on a contract, one must weigh the pros and cons, to see if they balance or if one side gives away to another. Your demands? You wanted to experience married life, all aspects of it. Your offer? Your everything.

All your assets together can’t hold a candle to the amount Alhaitham has accumulated for centuries, but it’s a decent amount. Perhaps due to a medical settlement.

Alhaitham has lived long enough to rein in primal desires, he can suffice off animal substitutes just fine. However, it doesn’t mean he wouldn’t want a taste of the real thing again. You offer him a steady supply, and to give him every last drop after seven years.

Yes, all of this for a mere seven-year contract. A deal heavily tipped in the favor of the vampire, not even a mere fraction of the time immortality offers. However, what piqued his interest the most weren’t the benefits listed.

A garden wall the tall vampire can’t peer over. Insight only attainable by those who near the end of their finite paths. What’s it like to have agency? What’s it like to have such finite time?

He’ll have seven years to observe. He submits the forms on the third day, delivering your verdict over the phone. Alhaitham agrees to entertain your little daydream.

On part that it was Alhaitham who personally filed the forms, the approval process went swimmingly, skipping the paper line. Tighnari oversaw the psychological evaluation, test after test confirming the sanity of your mind, speeding up the process of getting that stamp.

–

“What flowers do you like? I’m planning the decorations.” Your legs swinging under his kitchen table.

The contract was approved, hands held and certificates signed at the town hall, your belongings moved into his house. It’s excessive to want a celebration after all of that.

“Whichever flowers you want.”

Alhaitham will hold his tongue, after all, he’s signed to play the role of a husband.

–

The venue was spacious, high ceilings with marble floors and pillars, all of which were lavishly cluttered with Padisarahs, Sumeru Roses, and Kalpalata Lotuses. Alhaitham stood at the altar just off to the side of the wedding officiant. Tuxedo crisp and hands folded together, he scans over the rows of guests invited.

Since there weren’t any in-laws, Alhaitham assumed you wouldn’t have much of a social network. No one’s correct all the time, he ignores the piercing glares of a few eyes. The all-too-loud tones of a grand piano resound through the room. The previously shut doors open to reveal your figure. Embellished dress and veil perfectly framed by the carved entranceway as you ambled your way up the aisle.

The twilight hues of the sky dye the white gown in everchanging vibrancy as you passed by the standing crowd, up the steps to the altar, and finally in front of him. The overwhelmingly floral scent of the bouquet itches his nose.

Alhaitham pays no mind to the soliloquy of the officiant, he simply follows the rehearsed procedures. Sliding the gold band onto your finger and allowing you to do the same to him, lifting the veil to reveal your starry-eyed gaze he places a practiced kiss against your warm lips.

Is this excessive ritual over yet? No.

Alhaitham stands in the corner of the reception hall, hand nursing a glass of wine. The rich spices of the buffet offered to the guest irritated his palate. Supernatural creatures with their enhanced senses, a double-edged sword. Human food serves no purpose to vampires, it’s over-seasoned and pungent. At least your species has created drinks such as coffee and wine, delicacies even immortal creatures can enjoy.

In the center of the artificially lit hall, you eagerly greeted all your guests as they beamed at you. Giggling and hugging each person as an entourage of three friends helped with that embellished gown of yours. Two pairs of eyes from said entourage occasionally glared at him, their bodies forming a barrier to separate groom from bride. Candace and Dehya were the names you introduced to him.

Your starry-eyed self blissfully unaware of the silent cold war as the scarlet-haired dancer calls the attention of the two hunters back for the bouquet toss. Alhaitham was nothing more than just a decoration, you just wanted an excuse to prance around in a pretty white dress and throw a fancy party. He’s your husband, he’ll tolerate this daydream.

–

“Did you enjoy the reception?”

Only after the send-off and closing ceremony of the celebration, when the bride and groom were behind the thick oak doors of their suite, that you seemed to remember the decoration named ‘Alhaitham’.

“Yes, it was lovely.” The wine provided by the venue was of the highest quality, it entertained him enough.

“I hope you’re not upset at me being busy with guests.” Your arms found their way around his waist.

Quite comfortable encroaching on his space huh.

“I’m not.” Better they talk to you and not him.

As his cold hands pat the exposed skin of your back, his teal eyes didn’t miss the trail of goosebumps that prickled your skin. Shall he move on to the next scene? The lacing of your dress seems quite complicated, he assumes that it must have taken a few pairs of hands to tie it. Should he be a good husband?

“Do you need help with this?” His baritone voice was right against your ear, noticing the flush on the tips.

“Yes.” For once your voice was just barely above a whisper, a blushing bride.

The lacing weaved in and out of eyelets running down along the length of your back, how troublesome. Always one for efficiency, Alhaitham simply takes a handful of the taught lace and pulls, they snapped like simple threads. Such things offer no resistance to a creature of the night. The gasp that escaped your lips feed into something deep within.

With the bonds loosened, the embellished dress of yours lost the fight against gravity, fabric pooling at your feet. Revealing to teal eyes the lacy white stockings, garter belt, and panties, all the hallmarks of a wedding night. It’s impossible to deny the hunger crawling up his throat, no force of nature could resist such a sight.

“Aren’t you forgetting something? It’s rude to not offer the groom some help, no?” His hunger enjoyed that scarlet flush on your face.

Indecisive fingers going for the easiest button, opening the tuxedo jacket allowing him to shimmy it off his broad shoulders. Teal eyes continued to survey your flushed face, the smirk on his waiting for your hands to continue. Obeying his silent command like a good bride, you loosened the bow tie next, finally freeing him from that stiff collar.

Slowly your eyes peered up, asking if the torment was over yet, the slight rise in his ash brow directing you to resume. From your lips came the beginnings of a whine to which he sternly shushed. If you couldn’t even undress him how would you be able to do the other vulgar activities?

Finally relenting, your fingers continued with their clumsy attempt at unbuttoning his dress shirt, once a small window of his chest appeared your face pressed against the cool skin, staying there until all the buttons were undone. Oh? So even you can feel shame?

“Shall we continue on the bed, my bride?”

Your face was still hidden in his chest as you nodded, where did that shameless nature of yours go? With your gaze adverted he didn’t even bother hiding the curl of his lips. Sweeping you off the ground, he could hear the flutter in your chest increasing as the distance between the bed closes.

Upon silk sheets, Alhaitham settles down with you in between his legs and back against his chest. One key difference between humans and vampires? Body heat, one creature’s cells produces warmth, while the other simply remains the temperature of the environment. Your flushed skin seared itself into his, icy and hot mending together to create an equilibrium.

Of course, a good husband would warm his wife up. Alhaitham runs his cool palms along the length of your plush thighs and leg, absorbing the warmth as his own, soothing the shivers and goosebumps on your skin. Every now and then boldly creeping up the sides of your waist to twist at your perked nipples, enjoying every jolt and whine.

“Oh? Since when was this transparent?”

A firm hand grasps your chin, directing your vision towards white lace panties, the fingers on his other hand tracing over the shape of your cunt through the soaked fabric. Another lovely whine left your lips, face burning even more as you weakly protested in his hold, too powerless to do anything.

Skilled digits honed in on the nub that made your body jolt away, rubbing the faintest of circles over the delicate fabric, your legs trapped by his robust arms standing no chance to preserve your shattered dignity. As such, you had to follow his desires tonight.

“Or are you excited just by a few fleeting touches? What a lewd bride you are.”

It seems that you were telling the whole truth when you exclaimed how much you liked his voice, his finger could feel the slick that began to seep through the lace. Brushing the fabric to the side, Alhaitham allowed his middle finger to collect the slick along your slit allowing the rest of his digits to warm up against your cunt’s soft mounds. His throat felt parched as the sweet scent teased his nose, but now was not the time, maybe later in the night.

“Will you be honest?” The heel of this palm freely pressed against your clit as his middle finger continued to run up and down your wet lips, every now and then almost slipping.

Your body couldn’t hide its eagerness, hole clenching at nothing every time his finger passed by. However, he needed confirmation from you. Communication is important in a contract no?

“Yes.”

“Yes what?”

“I’ll be honest.” You pressed your back flat against his chest, trying to hide your face but his firm hold wouldn’t allow it.

“Good girl, then tell me what you desire.” His crisp breath provides your searing skin some relief.

Your plush lips pressed into a thin line as your eyes shut, cheeks heating up even more. It wouldn’t be good if you passed out from heat exhaustion so quickly. He grinds his palm into that sensitive nub, tormenting the answer out of you, nectar now dripping onto the sheets below.

“I want to c-cum,” You breathed out.

How direct, close but it wasn’t what he was looking for.

“You have to be more clear with your instructions, how do you want to cum?”

“Y-your fingers.”

“Good girl.” Finally, his finger breached your soaked entrance.

Pulsating walls welcomed him with unyielding squeezes, dragging his soaked digit further. Your sweet moans and whines resounded through the spacious suite, the volume of your voice directing him toward that spongey spot deep within. You were wet enough for another finger, so Alhaitham adds another, two digits stretching and exploring your soaked cavern.

“Mmmh! T-there!” Your toes were curling.

“Mmm.” The hum vibrated in his chest as his fingers went hard at work, thrusting into your quivering walls.

Each time his palm would slap against your clit your honest hole would clench down so endearingly. Your chest rises and falls rapidly, the muscles in your leg tensing up more and more. It’s obvious that you were close, but before he fulfilled your demands, he decided to be proactive and prepare for the next step.

Releasing your chin from his grasp, allowing your head to lull back against his shoulder. Alhaitham reaches between your bodies, hands never pausing their pace, swift fingers undoing the confines of his trousers. Allowing for his member to lay right against your back, the jolt of your body at the foreign object pressing against you made his hunger worse.

“Did you get more turned on? You’re clenching down tighter, did you want it that badly?”

Even if your eyes refused to meet his, the way your hips grind against his length, warming it up, told him all he needed to know. Your gummy walls constrict more around his fingers, it’s time to wrap up this scene, the next one is even more exciting. So his palm now digs into your clit, circling the now swollen bud in combination with his finger pressing against that nice spot deep inside.

“C-cummin-”

How cute, he didn’t even need to ask you to announce it. Letting your body ripple with the force of the orgasm, trembling limbs within his solid hold. If he was merciful, he would’ve continued to slide his fingers in and out, or maybe continue to caress your little nub, guiding you back to reality. However, hunger doesn’t allow for mercy.

Removing his soaked digits away from your pulsating cunt, teal eyes observing the transparent strings that clung to them with amusement. A small appetizer wouldn’t spoil the main meal, skilled tongue cleaning his fingers of your slick. Your head still limp against his shoulder, eyes rolled back in the throws of pleasure. To bring you back down to earth, it's best to use a new type of force.

Effortlessly, your hips were lifted up dripping cunt lined up with his impatient length below. In one fluid motion, your walls encase everything, drenched cunt giving no resistance as his tip kisses the spongy spot. Alhaitham lets a hiss escape him, it was as if he thrusted into the sun, your walls quickly bringing his member up to its temperature.

From your lips another moan was ripped out, oh it seems that you’ve plummeted back to reality. Your cunt trembled yet gripped onto his cock like a vice, coaxing him to go in deeper, encouraging his hunger to abuse your gummy walls even more. Barely riding out one wave of pleasure before another drowned you.

The hunters at your wedding could stick to your side the whole celebration, they could glare at him all they wanted, and they could try their damndest to keep the vampire at a distance. However, it was all efforts wasted in vain. For it was you, the blushing bride, who walked straight into his arms in the end, so open and receptive.

As he slides out just the slightest bit, your cunt protested by desperately clamping down, begging for his thick girth to stay in. In response he tightened his grip on your hips, lifting your body back up before bouncing you back down. What a glutton for pleasure you were, even as your little mouth whimpered and babbled, your walls thanked each slap of his hips with squeezes.

Sadistic hunger wanted more, to thrust deeper, to bully that poor spot inside of you over and over again with his thick tip as your walls stretch to accommodate the girth. His thighs collected the mixture of sweat and slickness from your body at each thrust. Your fingers dug into his hands, fingers white as you tried to grasp at anything to ground yourself.

“F-fast, too m-much.” There was drool escaping the corner of your parted lips, eyes barely back from seeing the inside of your head.

“Oh? Do you want me to stop?”

Alhaitham grinds to a stop, member still pressing deep inside you as he pulled you closer so his breath could ghost over your nape. In an instant, your mouth and cunt protested, you should be more clear with your instructions.

“N-noo.” Crying over the ruined tension.

“No? You wanted this.” His finger finds its way back to that swollen nub, flicking it a few times to watch the jumps of your body.

“If I let you cum, then I’ll do it my way, is that clear, my bride?” Tormenting your clit with firm circles.

“Yes! Please! P-pleasee.”

So weak against his voice, the sweet calls of a beast to lure you into the depths of depravity. Such is the fate of a shameless bride. Thus, his hips sprang back into action with renewed vigor. One hand keeps your hips still and the other remains on your clit to force that knot to reappear deep inside you.

Nothing but nonsense and moans babbled from your loose face, nectar dripping down to his heavy balls as they slapped against you with each pistoning of his hips. Your frantic hands entangled themselves into ash-mint locks as he felt gummy walls closing in tighter and tighter, your toes curling at the end of spread legs. Sinful slaps increased in frequency throughout the room as did the pace of the finger on your clit.

Your tense body held the warning of another storm, another fall off the edge into the depths. Alhaitham brushes his nose up your nape, the floral scent didn’t distract him from the goal laying just behind the skin. Your nerves were exhausted from the shooting pleasure, now was the perfect time to finally get his share. It’s only fair.

Prepping the area with a slow lick as his hips continued their brutal pace, incisors brushed against the delicate skin before piercing through. His hand shot up from your hip to your neck, a loose grip holding you still as your body tensed then violently shivered. The frenzy clamping of your cunt on his length was proof of your fall. Loose jaw uttering out broken moans as tears dripped down your chin.

The fresh scarlet flooded over his tongue and down his throat as Alhaitham continued with his slow suckling. Ah, you were very much like a flower, so delicate, so fragrant, and so bittersweet. It’s been almost a century since he last tasted the real thing, his body celebrated by filling your walls with thick release. An equivalent exchange of some sort.

A human body is quite frail, losing over two pints of blood borders on fatal territory. It’s not good to deplete a resource so quickly. Alhaitham releases your neck, running his tongue over the wound to seal it up. Teal eyes checked your complexion to ensure his measurements were accurate. Cheeks still with a healthy red flush as your chest heaved with pants, eyes glistening with tears. Such a shameless sight. He allows your head to roll onto his shoulder.

The rhythm of your heart settles back to its resting state as Alhaitham analyzes the taste he just experienced.

“I love you,” you breathed into his shoulder.

Alhaitham stiffens, the herbal aftertaste of your blood was bitter, the tang dried out his mouth causing a drawn-out pause. This is no good, he can’t miss the cue to say the line a bride longs to hear from her groom.

“I love you too.”

The choir of crickets from the world outside filled the void along with your pants.

“Pfft! Maybe let’s not say that, it’s too weird.” You shamelessly laughed, lifting your face from his skin.

What a relief, at least you seem to still have sense. Such words felt forcefully wedged into a script that wasn’t written for it. Might as well remove the line altogether. Moving on from the scene, Alhaitham lets you enjoy the warmth reflected off his body by yours.

It’s in the clauses to allow you to enjoy all aspects of marriage, so enjoy this honeymoon segment.

“Haitham, can you carry this for me please?”

“Haitham, I can’t reach, can you get it please?”

“Haitham, let’s have panipuri tonight!... Can you cook it please?”

It would’ve been better if he remained nothing more than just a decoration. It would’ve been easier if he was just a view for you to see behind glass. Perhaps Alhaitham’s acute eyes misread the contract, did you want a husband or just a maid?

Instead of sitting down in his own house to enjoy a book, he finds himself saddled with domestic responsibilities.

Must you call on him for everything?

Laundry and groceries aren’t that heavy. If you can’t reach the top shelves with the duster, then just get a chair. No ‘please’ or ‘thank you’ could prevent the downward tug of his lips every time you call him that doltish name. Your justification of a ‘nickname’ between lovers was moronic.

“Huh… Haitham how come you only use salt?”

Why do you make a creature who doesn’t consume such foods cook them? You’re more than capable of cooking for yourself every day. Although, Alhaitham would prefer it if you stopped using such overly fragrant herbs and spices.

Of course, when two breaths occupy the same space, there are bound to be pieces that don’t fit together, just as two breaths never sync. Alhaitham already factored those into his decision, but this was more proof of why a theory is always second to application. How troublesome the reality of marriage is, no wonder divorce rates are so high.

A good actor knows how to stay in character, so he’ll keep these thoughts to himself. Just as he lists your quirks silently.

One, you’re capricious. One moment silently enjoying a drama on the TV you asked him to purchase, body hogging the entire expanse of a couch. The next, you’ll be humming as plates and cups clatter in the sink, or the heavy thumps of your steps as you bound through the house with a mop. Alhaitham prefers it when you’re stationary, at least it doesn’t disturb his reading.

–

Two, you drink tea, an unfathomable amount of it. A warm cup always nestled between your fingers, bitter water mixed with honey. The herbal tang finds its way into your blood, making it taste like medicine. Thus, Alhaitham treats it as such, medicine just to alleviate suppressed bloodlust taken in moderation.

–

Three, you wanted to celebrate everything. Each square of a calender marked with scribbles. Why celebrate a celebration that’s already past? What is so special about a birthday? The past two years you purchased the same bundle of pungent flowers that made up that bouquet on that day to gift to him.

“Don’t you want a taste? I saved a slice just for you. Oh, would you eat it if I sprinkled some of my blood on it?”

Alhaitham swiftly accepts the plate from you, lifting the fork of overly sweet birthday cake into his mouth. Useless carbs take up space in his body, but such a thing causes no harm. Better to taste like pure sugar and not medicine.

–

The worst quirk of yours? You rise as soon as the sun greets the sky, adamant to not miss a single second of a day. Every day’s itinerary is filled with spur-of-the-moment decisions, such as going to a farmers market only open on Saturdays between the hours of 9 am and 2 pm. And how you drag him along.

Curses, only a human would drag a creature of the night into the day. What sadistic creatures, delighting in others' misery, you’re no exception.

“I thought you said vampires aren’t like how TV depicts them.” Curious eyes observe his slouched figure.

Vampires aren’t like how those dramas of yours depict them. No formal invitation to cross wooden thresh holds, no garlic braids as an effective shield, and no turning into a pile of ash at the mere rays of a star.

If so, then vampires would’ve been long gone by now. However, just because the sunlight can’t kill a vampire-

“It doesn’t mean it’s not unpleasant.” His stoic voice was too tired to add a bite.

You continued to stare at him with wonderment, as if what he said was the most complex theory known to the universe. Those dramas must’ve rotted that mind of yours, he concludes. You’re beyond saving.

“I see.” Gentle hands lift the excessive sun hat from your head.

Reaching on your tiptoes you place it atop his head, the straw brim providing some reprieve for his irritated skin. Shuffling the hat around until it’s securely nested along his now trussed ash locks. Satisfied, you lower yourself back down.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know. We can go home..”

Tenderly, your hands clasped around his, guiding him into the shade. The whole walk your hands never left his, eyes always searching for the next patch of shadows to lead him into. For the rest of the weekend, you just watched your dramas, the sensation of guilt must’ve muted your voice.

Good. He celebrated this rare break in his library away from you.

Alas, all good things must come to an end. Monday night rolled around again, as he passes the living room, he spots your loafing body napping on his couch as the TV acted as white noise. Tsk. Regardless, it’s time to get to work, he walks toward the front door.

“Wait,” came a soft command, dripping with sleep.

From around the corner, your figure comes stumbling towards Alhaitham, his hand still firmly on the knob. Hands busy trying to rub the fatigue away from your eyes, blinking away the pleasant dream you were just in.

Why did you abandon it? Alhaitham doesn’t know.

Your frame reaches his, transferring some of your warmth to him, arms outstretched towards his neck. Teal eyes don’t miss the way your drowsy legs were wobbling. To prevent any accidents, he supports your body with an arm around the waist.

Just as he feels your body steady, clammy palms encase the sides of his face. Pulling it down as your supple lips pressed against his cool cheek. Did you traverse all the way from the sofa just for a kiss?

“Have a good night at work.” Your shameless smile beamed.

A habit formed from one of your dramas, a wife bidding goodbye to her husband with a sweet kiss to boost his spirits. Curiosity must have gotten the better of you, or maybe you wanted to amuse yourself, two possibilities Alhaitham devises.

–

“So, how’s married life treating you?” Kaveh’s smug tone grated against his eardrums as the blond rested an elbow on the bar table.

Alhaitham couldn’t stop the frown from forming, nor the heavy sigh, so he took a hearty sip of his wine. Emptying the glass in one fluid motion.

“Heh, I see you’ve been enjoying the spoils of marriage very much,” Tighnari snickered.

“Sure, if you wish to see it that way.” Alhaitham’s hand found itself pouring another glass.

It seems that everyone around the ashen-haired vampire was enjoying the spoils of this odd union, everyone but him that is. His miseries fueling the chaff nature of his acquaintances, still he needed a reprieve to drink.

Not that herbal blood of yours, but something actually palatable like the fragrant wine washing the frustrations down his throat. It’s not marriage, it’s having to work overtime.

“Regardless, you signed a contract, you must uphold the clauses.” Cyno’s scarlet eyes leered over the rim of his glass.

Alhaitham sighs, he should’ve drank alone.

–

The tavern wasn’t a far journey away from his house. The deep hues of night slowly shift to the youthful flushes of dawn. He’s been drinking for quite some time, it didn’t matter, alcohol has no effect on a body such as his.

Alhaitham twists the key, the door creaking ajar just to reveal your figure with arms crossed. Disappointment ever so clear in those eyes of yours.

“Where’ve you been?” No chirp in your tone.

After a few hours of reprieve, Alhaitham is welcomed home with an interrogation. Wonderful. Why should he answer this meek creature standing in front of him? He could just walk to bed and get the rest he deserves.

‘You must uphold the clauses.’

Right, Alhaitham has to play the role of a husband, he signed a contract, too late to just burn the papers now.

“I went drinking with coworkers,” he curtly answers.

“Why didn’t you call beforehand?” Your head tilts, disappointed eyes still honed on him.

Why does he have to inform you of his every movement? Who were you to demand so much of his individuality? Alhaitham couldn’t help the frown that reappeared, directed at you, the hurdle that blocked him from entering his own home.

The grandfather clock counted the seconds in the background, two sets of eyes locked in a stare-down. One frowning and one disappointed. How long will this last?

Your shoulders slumped as a sigh left your lungs. Eyes finally finding rest behind two heavy lids.

“My life’s too short for misunderstandings and messy communication,” you huffed.

Your back straightens again as you lean in closer, eyes recentering on his towering form. They no longer held the burden of disappointment, they twinkled with something else.

“I’m your wife, and you’re my husband.” You stated the obvious.

“So when my husband, who usually arrives home at half past midnight on the dot, didn’t arrive home until dawn without a single text or call. I got worried.”

What wasted concern, why worry for an immortal creature?

“You don’t need to report every movement to me, I don’t want that either, but if you plan on staying out please give me a simple text. So I don’t have to spend hours worrying about why my husband isn’t answering my calls.”

Alhaitham scans over the discoloration hanging heavily under your eyes. An unpleasant sensation crawled up his spine. Phone shut off by habit, unaware of how you were losing sleep as he emptied bottle after bottle. He has to remedy the situation now, it’s what a husband should do.

“I understand, I’ll do that from now on,” he answers.

Is he allowed back into the confines of his own house now?

Your hands were now positioned defiantly on your hips, brows quirked up as if expecting something more.

No.

“You’re supposed to apologize, ya know. ‘I’m sorry, I’ll do better next time, my wife’,” you advised.

“I’m sorry, I’ll do better next time, my wife,” he parroted.

The magic words to finally open the path into the house, words that finally returned that grin to your face. Arms outstretched you wrapped them around his neck as your lips warmed up his cool cheek.

“Welcome home, Haitham.”

Ah, he knows what that twinkle in your eyes was, sincerity.

Audiences rarely see the behind-the-scenes of a movie, with directors always handpicking which mistakes are charming enough to be shown as a blooper. Audiences don’t see the multiple scenes filmed then refilmed, they can’t experience the long hours, and they don’t know how many times lines were misread. Three years is enough time for actors to learn their lines.

“Is my drama too loud?”

Alhaitham peers over the top of the journal, focusing on your face peeking through the entrance of his library. Judging by the apron, he guesses it's almost time for dinner, the dialogue playing on the TV was just above a muffle from here.

“It’s fine, remember to turn on the kitchen hood.”

“Okay, which wine did you want to baste the meat in?”

“Top left, how long will it take?”

“Pfft, famished already? 15 minutes, you won’t waste away in that time right, Haitham?”

The ever-so-adventurous palate of yours and the ever-so-drab palate of his. An unstoppable force meeting an immovable object, two existences that bend and twist each other until equilibrium. Equilibrium in the form of a steak basted in red wine, rare for him and medium for you. A dinner that could be enjoyed by both breaths.

–

“Oh?” Your bewildered eyes blink at the bouquet presented to you.

A wrapped box held tenderly in your hands. Alhaitham had taken note of a certain scribble marked on the calendar, it was he who got the fourth bouquet. Placing an order ahead of time to ensure the freshest flowers.

“You said they smelled bad.”

“I’m used to it.” A half-truth.

Your lips couldn’t suppress its toothy grin, balancing the box in one hand as the other accepts the bouquet.

“Since you have every book in existence, I got you something else.” You nudged the wrapped present toward him.

Unraveling the decorative paper his eyes were greeted by the sight of a carved figure of a… what is it? Meeting your eager gaze, the quirk in his eyebrow told enough.

“It’s a hawk, I saw in storage that you used to collect these decorations.”

Ah, you found a petty hobby he had decades ago to torment a certain someone. A figure serves no practical purpose in a home, but the eagerness of your eyes was enough to find the endearing gift a place on a shelf.

–

“How does one make their blood tastier?” You pondered into his embrace.

His tongue traveled up the nape of your neck to collect the escaped drops of scarlet and to close up the wound. Your bare skin pressed against his, rising his temperature to a pleasant warmth.

He could feel every shiver as his length shifted within your overstimulated walls, recovering the overwhelming pleasure experienced just moments earlier.

What an obvious answer, stop drinking that tea of yours. However, Alhaitham prefers when you have the energy to trot through crowded walkways at dusk with him in tow. Bittersweetness is an acquired taste, one that took him some time.

“Since you have enough clarity to ask questions, I’m assuming you’re up for another round.” His husky breath ghosts over your ear.

“Wait~ I’m still sens-Ah!”

–

Over time, something as short as five years, even a trickle of water can crave a home for itself in the rocky foundations of the earth that’s existed since the dawn of time.

The side of the polished dinner table with the clearest view of the TV was your side.

The mug left in the sink with the faint aroma of tea and sweet honey was your mug.

The couch with cushions misshapen and molded by repeated use was your couch.

Such is the lull of domestic reality, each kiss at the door to bid goodbye and each kiss to welcome him back.

Nothing, not even immortality, is resistant to time.

Due to the crowd you’ve built your circle from, hunters were semi-frequent guests at his home. Much to your delight and his dismay. A husband should get along with his wife’s friends.

“Your complexion has gotten paler.” Candace’s heterochromatic eyes narrowed, her hands turning your face from side to side.

“Mmm, I haven’t been going out during the day as much.” Resting the weight of your head within her palms.

“Bullshit, he’s been using you like livestock,” Dehya snapped.

“Mmm? Not really, he says my blood taste like leaves.” Halfheartedly lifting your face out of Candace’s warm hold.

“Don’t cover for that bastard,” the Flame-Mane hunter scowls.

“Need I remind you ‘that bastard’ is still in the room?” Alhaitham breaks his silence.

“Who said you could speak?” Sapphires clash with beryls.

“Who’s home are you currently guests in?”

Even without glancing down, Alhaitham could tell that Dehya’s hand was twitching to reach for the silver dagger hidden up her sleeve. The hand then falters back down, Candace must’ve also noticed, steadfast eyes sending a warning to the other hunter.

“Of all people, why did you have to marry this vampire?” Dehya turns to you exasperated.

“Mmm,” you hummed.

With the finger pressed against your lip and your eyes wandering up towards nothing, Alhaitham couldn’t tell if you were deep in thought or just faking it.

Your pondering filled the room with silence, three pairs of eyes intently trained on your frame. Eyelids closed as you deepened your thought. After a few beats, they fluttered back open.

“Because he’s just too handsome.” There’s that shameless smile again.

The disgusted expression that plastered itself all over the hunter’s face at your response almost pushed a quiet laugh from his lips. However, Alhaitham wanted to avoid a physical confrontation from starting in his house.

If there’s one virtue you have, it’s that you’re a fair person. You perplex your friends and husband to equal degrees.

It’s now time for the hunters to start their night, much like how Alhaitham will soon report to the office. The two women and you were now at the threshold of the door bidding goodbye, their skeptical eyes every now and then glaring behind you at the vampire.

“Oh, one more thing,” your voice perks up.

Arms encapsulated two sturdy frames, pulling them close against yours.

“I love you guys.” Your words make the two robust warriors take a sharp inhale, bodies tensing up momentarily.

“We love you too, very much.” Candace’s voice forced itself to steady.

“Yeah.” Dehya pulled you closer.

After a few beats, you pulled away from your friends. Lighthearted grin lopsided on your face.

“Alright then, stay safe out there,” you chimed, waving at them.

After their figures disappeared from view, Alhaitham shut the oak door. You still peered out the curtains, daydreaming something as the stars reflected in your eyes. He observes for a moment before he collects the cups and dishes that once held tea and sweets to entertain bygone guests.

You were already surrounded by love, genuine love. Why did you sell your soul to experience something you already had? Alhaitham will save that question for another day.

Would you try saying that line to him again? Maybe this time he read his line without hesitation.

–

Alhaitham’s heavy lids shot open. The unwelcome greetings of morning birds signaled the time of day. Keen eyes scanned over the empty space beside him, sheets still trussed in the shape of a smaller figure. The bird songs rang like sirens, heightening his senses.

For once his ageless body left the bed without protest, swift steps pattering through the dim halls until the backyard came into view. Sunlight poured in through the open door, the wooden mounts perfectly framing your slumped figure.

Tired body balancing upon the basket of damp laundry, halfway from the backdoor and clothes line, you stopped to take labored breaths.

Swiftly he was by your side, towering stature blocking you from the harsh rays. Alhaitham lifts your fatigued body from the ground, giving your aching legs relief. Even with the sun hanging high in the sky, your skin didn’t absorb an ounce of warmth.

He takes you to the safety of the dim house, settling you onto the soft cushions of your couch.

“Don’t push yourself.” Alhaitham shifts a few pillows behind your back.

“I wasn’t, the laundry needs to be hung,” you huffed.

“Just call for me.”

You sounded out a whine of protest, but your breathing steadied. Alhaitham moves to stand back to full height, ready to finish the task awaiting out in the sun.

“Wait,” came your soft call.

Plucking your favorite sun hat off, you bestowed it upon unkempt ash locks still dusted with sleep. Fussing with the oversized straw brim until it stayed in place. Once satisfied you beamed, fingers caressing his smooth cheeks before placing a peck from curled lips.

“Thank you, Haitham.”

Adamant hands smoothed over the damp clothes, ensuring that they didn’t dry on the line with wrinkles that stayed stubbornly. The morning rays felt like sand against his exposed skin, but the hat bestowed upon him made it tolerable.

–

“It’s dusk, would you like to stroll through the market tonight?” Beryl eyes inspect the curled figure of his wife among cushions and blankets.

“Mmm, maybe not tonight.” You sink deeper into your couch, drama long forgotten.

“I see.” Alhaitham moves to the armchair just adjacent to you, a frequent perch of his now.

“Come here?”

Just as you finished blinking Alhaitham was by your side again. Slowing lifting your upper body just off the cushion, you pat the now free space, welcoming him to sit. He wouldn’t be a good husband if he were to deny such a request. So he sits.

Once the ashen-haired vampire was fully situated, your head found its place upon his thighs.

“Lap pillow,” there was that giggle of yours.

Alhaitham sighs, but he couldn’t prevent the corner of his lips from curling up, so he hides it with his book. This must be something you learned from those dramas again. He’ll humor it.

His cool fingers run along your scalp as his teal eyes switched between your resting face and the words printed along the aged paper.

Maybe not today, perhaps tomorrow when the rays of a selfish star kiss your cheeks.

–

The drinks were served quietly, the tavern didn’t seem as lively tonight. Perhaps because it’s the busy season, Spring air carries with it the signs of renewing life and tax forms.

“So, how is she, the wife?” Kaveh traverses the stagnant air.

What a redundant question, Alhaitham knows they can smell the fragrance lingering on his body from you, the aroma of flowers only found in a garden beyond a line immortals can cross. The scent of an ending journey.

“I’ll send some more Kalpalata Lotus tea, one cup a day should help with lethargy.” Tighnari prescribes, making a mental note to prepare the delivery once he returns home.

“Thank you, how much would I owe?”

“None, just a gift for your wife.”

Alhaitham hums in gratitude, and the table continued to play cards placidly. Throughout the rounds, his teal eyes stole glances over to a dark screen.

The group dispersed at dawn, but it wasn’t long before Alhaitham acknowledged the presence behind him.

“Alhaitham.”

He only glanced over his shoulder at the tan vampire.

“Remember the punishment that awaits those who dare disturb the cycle of life.” A threatening crackle resounded from the curled fingers by Cyno’s side.

Alhaitham already knows and Cyno knows it all too well. After all, the privilege of a good true death was stolen away from the white-haired man many years ago. Cursing the shorter man to eternity. Thus, Cyno now spends eternity punishing those who dare break the most sacred law.

Alhaitham responds with a nod and with that the two men parted ways as the rosy hues of dawn dyed the sky. You’re probably in bed already, it’ll be his kiss to announce his return.

–

In an age where humans outnumber vampires, with new technologies and weapons that can now threaten once untouchable creatures, immortal beings now have to obey mortal laws. The most sacred of laws, vampires cannot turn humans into immortal beings. It’s illegal, it’s immoral even to curse such fleeting creatures with eternity.

However, vampires are creatures born outside the grace of god from the very start, lurking in the shadows of iconoclasm. What difference would it make?

It’s his night to make dinner, steak with red wine sauce.

What is the difference between blood and wine to the inattentive eye? The scarlet hues could be easily mixed. All it would take is a sprinkle, drops stirred into the fragrant sauce served over the juicy meat, for you to abandon your humanity. For the ticking of a grandfather clock to stop its hands.

Who wouldn’t want more time?

A scene from a night now long past resurfaces at the front of Alhaitham’s mind.

–

“Would you want more time?” Came a question that broke the silence after a moment of passion.

Your damp skin glistens under the moonlight, your chest rising and falling as the lust slowly blinks away from your eyes. Alhaitham’s hand on your back guides you down from cloud nine. You stared at him inquisitively, teal reflecting back to him as he remains silent.

Ashen hair tussled and scratches fading away from cooling skin, he awaits your answer, schemes manifesting.

You let out a hum, signing that you’ll humor his question this time, as your face rests against the pillow comforted by his woodsy scent.

–

If you had more time, he would have more time. More time to pick your brain. More time to search through the archives of your thoughts to decrypt you. More time to grovel at your feet for forgiveness after he rips the humanity away from your arms.

Alhaitham is a prideful thing, but he’s not a dense fool. He knows when an apology is necessary, insight gained from his time shared with you.

Teal eyes glance back behind him towards the living room, where your figure sat quietly, attention distracted by the pair of lovers on screen in the midst of a tense argument. Never once turning behind to glance into the kitchen, not one ounce of suspicion. The scene finishes.

–

“I was born a human.” Your lids opened again, meeting his beryl-like eyes.

Irises pure like the moonlight reflected in them. He hums in acknowledgment, fingers tracing mindless scripts into your tender back.

“I will die as one.”

He hums in confirmation.

–

A riddle he couldn’t quite solve to bypass the sphinx who guards the sanctuary of your mind. Humans are greedy creatures of conquest, always wanting more, always hungry for more. That’s why creatures like him exist and thrive, feeding into the natural greed of humans.

Every human wants more power, more money, more wisdom. Every human wants more and more and more. Every human, so why can’t you want more? It seems that the breeze who gallivanted into his office, proposing to him with a contract, won’t reveal her secret.

As it was outlined on the paper signed by two names, he shall honor your wishes for now until the end, such is the character of a husband.

Alhaitham runs his hand under the kitchen sink, shameless eyes watching as the water turns clear again, and as the skin closes up. A feature only a creature born outside the jurisdiction of god would have.

He finishes the meal with a few sprinkles of freshly cut herbs, serving the untainted sauce over juicy cuts of steak, one cooked medium and one cooked rare. He calls you over to the dinner table.

The average human life span has increased drastically in the past centuries, it’s now about eighty years give or take.

Still a mere fraction of the time held by vampires.

Eighty years, and yet you could only have a fraction of that. You could only offer him a sliver of a fraction.

–

“It’s been a while since you’ve fed, aren’t you hungry?” Your eyes peered over at him.

Alhaitham wipes the washcloth along your back from beside the porcelain tub, steamy water carrying the fragrance of Nilotpala Lotuses. The humidity of the bathroom made the shirt cling to his skin like a wet rag, but the moisture helped with your coughs.

“I’m satisfied.” Another half-truth, teal eyes scan for any signs of discomfort, he can bare it.

“Really? I’m sure my blood doesn’t taste like leaves anymore.” You rested your cheek again on the warm washcloth, eyes twinkling under the fluorescent lights as you looked into his.

The gift by Tighnari sitting untouched in the corner of a cabinet. Perhaps you’ve gotten tired of the bitter herbal taste, or maybe because there wasn’t a point in drinking it anymore.

Alhaitham fought the urge to click his tongue at your brash humor, only you would worry about how you taste during the closing days of a contract. However, his lips couldn’t form a frown when you beamed at him like that.

–

On the path to work, beryl eyes landed upon a bouquet arranged with familiar flowers, the petals dyed by the rich hues of dusk. The florist was busy gathering up the displays to bring them back inside for the night.

“Excuse me, I’d like to purchase this bouquet.”

That night at the office, the staffed vampires crinkled their noses at the overwhelmingly floral scent that plagued the floor. Alhaitham just shut his office door, bouquet resting in a hastily prepared vase, such a thing won’t kill a vampire it’s such a minuscule issue.

“I’m home.” He locks the door after him.

Keen hearing not picking up the pattering of feet along the hardwood floor. Placing the flowers on the entranceway table along with his dress shoes, the ashen-haired immortal trekked through the halls, silence ringing in his ears.

Behind the solid bedroom lay his answer, turning the knob, Alhaitham feels tense muscles loosen as the steady melody of breaths resounded through the room.

You’ve been here since this afternoon, body now imprinted into the plush mattress. Still, your blood still runs and your chest still rises, even if there were faint hints of wheezing it was good enough. Quiet as a shadow, Alhaitham removes his blazer and tie before joining you under the sheets. He’s been craving sleep.

A timeless body doesn’t need sleep, ageless cells don’t require such downtime to recover. However, claiming that vampires don’t enjoy sleep would be a blatant lie. A calm way to pass the endless time offered by eternity, a nice way to escape boredom.

Or maybe it’s because sleep gives immortal creatures a taste of an experience they’ll never have. Peaceful expiry.

Teal eyes observe the ever-present curl of your lips before cool lips are pressed against your plush ones. A habit formed after six years. The flowers were still left at the door, but they’ll survive the night. Alhaitham will show them to you in the morning, and you’ll beam that grin at him in the morning.

–

Fresh flowers rested in a vase gifted by friends on the nightstand, the last flowers of Spring. The delicate blooms give way to the vibrant greens of Summer. Such a cruel season for vampires, with days so long and nights so short. A cruel season that offered your body no additional warmth.

Alhaitham’s hand brushes against the apples of your cheeks, your unconscious body protests in an instant with shivers and curls away from the thief stealing what precious heat you had. As if burned by fire, the vampire retracts his hand.

Right, he can’t be greedy. Teal eyes watch every tremor until his legs finally remembered how to walk. Pacing to the closet Alhaitham pulls the Winter covers out from storage, insulating your body with the thick duvet.

The layers form a barrier protecting you from icy touches as he smooths out the wrinkles.

When humans walk into a garden, their eyes are immediately drawn toward the most beautiful blooms. Watching intently at how the petals of the young blossom unravel, their senses enjoying the heavenly fragrance. It’d only be a matter of seconds before their inevitable greed takes over, and they wish to claim the flower as their own.

In this sense, the gods are no different than the mortals who were crafted in their image. Greedy to pluck the most beautiful blooms from the garden for their mere amusement.

Is that what went on behind the garden wall those born outside the jurisdiction of god couldn’t peer over? Alhaitham wonders if you’d answer this inquiry of his. However, if he wants answers, he’ll have to ask soon.

How should he say the last lines of this script?

Alhaitham ponders. There wasn’t a director to give a cue, no parenthetical to follow. Perhaps he’s entertaining such futile thoughts to distract himself.

With each wheeze of your chest, the itch in his palm grew unbearable. His thumb begged to dig its nail into the smooth skin until scarlet droplets trickled out. However, it never got its chance for soon your ailing fingers occupied the space, interlocking to halt its motion as gold rings clinked together.

“My husband is such a handsome actor.” Breathy voice babbling with a giggle.

Alhaitham’s cool skin hogged your warmth, trying to permanently sear the temperature into itself.

“You don’t have to play this role anymore.” You craned your neck away with a deep exhale, exposing the vulnerable skin to him.

There’s nothing viler to a vampire than stagnant blood. Blood that no longer runs tastes rotten, cold blood is worst than bile. Your blood still ran warm, he could sense it. This time it was his incisors that itched.

Keen eyes don’t miss the way your nape prickled at the breath that ghosted over it as his lips parted. Your lids gently shut, bracing yourself. The incisors brushed against your exposed jugular, but they couldn’t break through the delicate skin. They wouldn’t. They just wouldn’t.

Like the cowards they were, they retreated. Alhaitham closes his lips, deciding to press a tender kiss on the spot instead. His free hand guides your head back into a comfortable position on the plush pillow.

“You don’t have to hold yourself back.” Your eyes were open again.

“I’m not holding myself back,” he spoke the truth, the whole truth.

You were born with blood, it’s only right that you die with it, Alhaitham concludes.

The ending clause of that contract be damned.

“What a silly vampire.” Your bell-like laughter twinkled in his ears.

Yes, he is. Even after all these centuries, Alhaitham realizes he’s still no better than a fool. A shameless fool. An idiotic hypocrite ready to stray away from the principles he thought he held firm. He’ll accept this verdict, he’ll continue this fool’s errand, if and only if you continue to giggle at his antics.

Outside the window came the dirge of Summer crickets, gentle crips accompanying your fleeting wheezes. Alhaitham shifts the thick comforter up your body, smoothing out the wrinkles as the soft warmth lulls you away.

Your still fingers in between the spaces of his, your head curled within the space between his nape.

Under the moon’s pure rays, lay two bodies atop soft sheets, curled towards each other, the fleeting warmth long dissipating. Atop silk sheets, one body envisions the two buried under cold dirt and not clean comforters with hands somehow still locked together. Deep under the garden wall.

Once the cruel sun creeps into the sky, and the night flees into hiding with her stars, Alhaitham will have to make a call.

He’ll have to speak with the receptionist on the other end, with their bright customer service greeting, and get a legal pronouncement of death. Then soon after that, he’ll have to arrange the transportation of your cold husk. He’ll have to lower you into the ground alone.

However, the morning is still hours away, the moon is still here to lend her quiet sympathies. So tonight, just for tonight humor his little daydream.

Fin~

©️vivalabunbun DON’T PLAGIARIZE, REPOST, OR TRANSLATE ANY OF MY WORKS.

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marragurl · 5 months

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I have this VISCERAL need for an AU where everyone’s perception of Ratiorine is completely skewed and they all think they hate each other when in reality they’re actually married.

They had a small ceremony years ago, fully live together, have matching pajama sets, cutely bicker and have inside jokes with each other, constantly use endearments when referring to one another in public, have a combined 20 step hygiene routine, are each other’s first choice if there’s a mission that require 2 people, AND NO ONE BELIEVES THEY’RE MARRIED! OR EVEN IN A RELATIONSHIP!

AVENTURINE EVEN SIGNS HIMSELF AS AVENTURINE RATIO ON INVITES OR LETTERS OR PAPERWORK (Kakavasha Ratio on their marriage certificate, I like to think in this AU they’ve worked through their past trauma together already), BUT EVERYONE THINKS IT’S A TYPO AND HE MEANT TO WRITE THEM SEPARATELY SINCE THEY’RE ALWAYS ASSIGNED ON MISSIONS TOGETHER.

The only people who know are the Stonehearts, and that’s only due to Aventurine’s contract/work as IPC, so they were the ones who officiated/were witnesses to the wedding.

Everytime they all go out to get a drink or something, I need Topaz in the back looking insufferable as Ratiorine are in full lovey-dovey mode AND NO ONE NOTICES. I’d be the same girl, they could broadcast their honeymoon and STILL people would think it’s some weird powerplay hate thing, Topaz is later found crying to Jade about how she finally understands why Ratio calls everyone idiots, how are people so blind?! They’ve even started using the same motions and same phrases Jade, WHY CAN NO ONE ELSE SEE IT???

The only reason the Penacony plan goes off without a hitch is that everyone has the biggest preconceived notion that Aventurine and Ratio despise each other WHEN IT’S JUST THEIR USUAL MARRIED BICKERING. NO ONE CAN EVEN FATHOM THE TWO OF THEM LIKING EACH OTHER, LET ALONE MARRIED???

(In this AU, Aventurine gives up his room because the Reverie made the same mistake of not understanding the signature and assigned him and Ratio to different rooms, and now there’s a nice clean way of getting rid of the extra room, making a connection with the Astral Express, AND rooming with his dear husband, what great luck!)

I want it to get to a point where they could fully make out in front of Sunday and the man would STILL believe that Ratio would betray Aventurine. Aventurine during the entire interrogation scene is just constantly in the state of “my husband is such a good actor, I’m so proud of him” *heart eyes and winks to Ratio when Sunday isn’t looking* and Ratio is just straight up looking worried for Aventurine and immediately rushes after him when it’s all over AND NO ONE BATS AN EYE

Ratio just mentally apologizing to Aventurine after every little fake fight they have and dying on the inside and doubling down on every bit of affection he can in between (and even during) the fights, and Aventurine is just having fun having his husband’s attention all to himself no matter the form. (plus the rush of knowing just how much they trust each other always makes him warm)

Aventurine is fully ok with this weird perception people have of him and his husband since it always helps with his schemes and gambles paying off, and while Ratio wants to bash everyone in the head for even daring to think he hates his husband, he keeps quiet because he trusts that Aventurine will always come back to him and make it all work.

But that’s not enough to stop him with showering Aventurine with adoration and love in public. If the public are too much of idiots to realize something as obvious as their love, Ratio won’t stop it from showing his dear husband just how much he means to him.

This is fully AU of course, we all know canon Ratiorine is the longest softest pining game in history. Funny enough, Topaz is still suffering in the back due to their relationship shenanigans. She better be getting some financial compensation for this, I just know Aventurine complains to her about his crush. Ratio is fully at his own place writing out thesis after thesis about the meaning of love and psychoanalyzing his own feelings. He forwards them to Topaz for review because I like to think she’s somehow become a weird bouncing board for his frustrations about her coworker. Topaz is crying.

#honkai star rail #hsr aventurine #aventurine honkai star rail #hsr #ratio hsr #dr ratio #dr ratio honkai star rail #ratiorine #aventio #idk what else to put here #I just #we keep getting so much ratiorine food #I’m drowning in them #I can’t-#marrapost

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writtenbyjeanofarc · 9 months

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・⸝⸝﹒₊˚ UNDRESS ★・⸝⸝﹒₊˚

an album dedicated to Arlecchino.

TRACK 001.

What Looks So Strong, So Delicate

𝖌𝖊𝖓𝖗𝖊: psychological horror.

𝖕𝖆𝖎𝖗𝖎𝖓𝖌: Arlecchino X You (Reader)

𝖈𝖜: possessive behavior.

𝖘𝖞𝖓𝖔𝖕𝖘𝖎𝖘:

You’ve grown tired of Arlecchino’s antics when it comes to her trying to overprotect you from head to toe, let alone keep you from seeing other people she deemed as a threat. After holding back your urges to end the intimate relationship between both of you, you finally gave into your plan of packing your belongings, ready to travel back to your family’s home. To compensate for your absence, you left a note in her office while she was gone, stating your intentions of breaking up with her and leaving for good.

Little did you know, days after arriving to see your family out of fearing confrontation, your family was nowhere to be found. After thinking you’ve had the chance of a successful escape, you just had to surrender every bit of your pride upon confronting your crazed lover.

𝕬𝖚𝖙𝖍𝖔𝖗’𝖘 𝕹𝖔𝖙𝖊: Something from the vault. Unreleased.

Banner credit by @benkeibear.

“I thought I’d find you here.”

All it took was one voice that rendered you weak on the knees, its tone penetrating your eardrums. Before even looking back, you were greeted with a shadowy figure towering over you from behind. Your eyes widened in shock. You stopped dead in your tracks, caught within the predator’s trap this time, not knowing where to go and what to do. That kind of voice seemed familiar, you thought, as it sounded deep and threatening; it sounded as if someone was about to kill you at that very moment, your instincts telling you to jump out the window in fear.

It was definitely the voice of someone angry, someone completely crazy over your presence alone.

Your heart rate increased as you turned your back to face the Knave herself. Not knowing how she got access to your home in Mondstadt was something that creeped you out, shivers sending chills down your spine upon realizing that fact.

It’s been days since you last escaped from the Fatui Hideout in Fontaine, defeating all your lover’s most loyal guards and escaping the possessiveness that overfilled the hole of your relationship. It was to no denial that your combat skills were refined and belonging to that of a seasoned warrior. After all, your valor and competence in the art of war was what caught the Knave’s attention, so far as to confess her feelings to you.

After months of arguing over financial matters and resisting The Knave’s desire for control over your freedom, you thought to yourself that YOU had enough of her bullshit. Packing your belongings didn’t feel like a chore, it felt like something you could do forever, for as long as you kept your distance from The Knave. You just didn’t want to be associated with her antics anymore. So all you did was write a sincere letter to her office stating your intention to split up, and that you were leaving to Mondstadt with your family for good.

Days passed since your escape. You spent your quality time bonding with family and enjoying a cup of tea while indulging in joyful chatter. Things went well. However, these memories came to a halt upon witnessing the sudden disappearance of your family when you woke up from a nap tonight. Oh, how the tables have turned. You didn’t expect such a sudden change in the atmosphere when you realized there’s twe was someone who had entered your home.

“Let’s not beat around the bush, shall we?” the Knave spoke. “Tell me, dear, are you tired of us now?”

“I’ve had enough of you.” you replied. “Let’s cut to the chase, alright? I escaped because I felt as if our entire relationship was suffocating me. That letter I sent you is proof of it.”

“Ah, yes…..that letter you gave me. A great argument, but that’s NOT enough.” the Knave said darkly. “I just wanted to surprise you a bit by holding your family captive while indulging ourselves in a rather…. decent conversation. Take this as a moment to clear any form of misunderstanding between us.”

“What is there to be misunderstood, Arlecchino?” you asked. “I already stated my side of the story through that letter. I want freedom. I want to end our relationship.”

“End our relationship?” the Knave chuckled. “Don’t make me laugh. You swore to the Tsaritsa that you shall fight for our relationship to the death once you gave yourself to me. That was a hard promise.”

“Promised? I only mentioned fighting for our relationship to the death because I had faith in you, Arlecchino.” you replied. “But things happen, and people change. We were never fated to be together, knowing all you desired was control over my life and decisions. I’m leaving.”

“You’re not going anywhere.” the Knave warned you. “One escape attempt, and I’ll make sure your family will never see the light of day again.”

“Anything but my family…..” you thought.

“Cat got your tongue?” the Knave sneered. “Poor little creature cares way too much about their family…..I’m almost jealous.”

“Let them go.” you said darkly, your eyebrows furrowing. “I won’t hesitate to run if need be.”

“Are you really going to make things harder for us, my dear? No. You’re not leaving. I won’t allow it.”

“Make me.” you said bravely. While you started running, you were ignored by the Knave this time. However, you felt a knife slash through your arm. Despite the pain you felt from that swift slice, you didn’t stop running. Surprisingly, there was no blood gushing out of your wound as you continued to run. The escape was uncalled for, but you just had to run away to call out someone to help you out, like Amber.

While making your way out of the house, you felt your limbs cramp and your vision starting to blur. It was as if you were about to be paralyzed. You couldn’t feel your legs, your knees wobbling as you lost balance and fell into the ground face first. Looking up, you couldn’t make sense of whose silhouette it was. But it was definitely the Knave’s heels.

“As I thought.” the Knave muttered. She knelt down to grab you by the neck, while your consciousness was about to fade. The last thing you saw was her smirk, her mouth speaking inaudible words as your eyes closed.

“I’m going to have a little fun with you tonight.”

#arlecchino #arlecchino x reader #x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact #genshin x you #genshin women #fatui x reader #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere x darling

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gabessquishytum · 4 months

Note

The Honorable Mr. Dream Endless is engaged to Mr. Hob Gadling, and while he’s perfectly happy to be so, part of him can’t help feeling just a little disappointed. Don’t get him wrong, he’s head over heels in love with the gentleman, and is confident in Hob’s love for him. But he’s always been a voracious reader of novels, and when he had first entered into society a part of him had been hoping for the type of wild and dramatic romance he’d always read of.

But their courtship and subsequent engagement, while lovely, was rather sedate and lacking in drama. Both of their families approved of the match, and neither Dream nor Hob had any other jealous suitors or past entanglements looking to separate them. There were no financial or class issues that could be obstacles to their marriage, and no buried secrets or scandals threatening to come to light. Neither of them even had any dubious acquaintances or access to properly mysterious locales that could provide such excitement.

When Dream confesses such to his sister Death one evening, he reassures her that he is definitely, wildly happy to be engaged to Hob. It’s simply that he’d had such delicious fantasies of rogues and abductions and intrigue, and it’s a little hard to let them go now that he’s settling down, even if it is with the love of his life.

Death comforts him, but he completely misses the thoughtful and mischievous look that appears on her face, and he also misses her quiet scheming with Hob later the next day.

Dream does think it’s odd, a few days later, when she suddenly suggests that the three of them go visit the couple’s new estate—their soon-to-be home after the wedding—for a time, and Hob immediately agrees but claims that he still has some business in town that would keep him behind a day or two. But Dream shrugs and agrees to the plan anyway, and he and Death set off.

He’s completely taken by surprise when the carriage is stopped, about half a mile away from their destination, by the sound of a gunshot and a vaguely familiar voice shouting “stand and deliver!” He’s alarmed and a little excited, until he turns to look at his sister and is instead suspicious, as she seems not at all worried or even surprised.

The carriage door opens, and there stands a dark figure dressed in black, holding a pistol, with a handkerchief tied around his face. It’s not enough of a disguise, however, to conceal for longer than a moment or two that this sudden highwayman is in fact his fiancé Hob!!

Indeed, upon seeing Dream’s recognizing him, the “highwayman” winks at him before turning to Death (who is clearly trying to fight off a grin) and declaring that he can see they have no real money or jewels for him to steal, so instead he’ll be taking the lady’s lovely companion with him as compensation. He then pulls Dream from the carriage and whisks him past all the drivers and footmen—who do nothing but look indulgently on—to a waiting horse, before carrying him off into the woods.

——

Hob and Death had indeed thoroughly planned the whole thing out in order to give Dream the kind of romantic escapade he had longed for. They’d planned exactly where Hob would intercept the carriage, and had informed all the necessary servants in advance so that no one except Dream would be taken by surprise. Hob had waited by the side of the road with his face bare until he and the carriage driver had made eye contact and clearly recognized each other, to prevent any mistaken identity shenanigans, before tying on the handkerchief and getting into character. He’d only had the one pistol with the one shot, which he’d fired into the ground, to minimize the possibility of accidental injury or damage.

The estate has a cottage in the woods, close enough to the house to be easily reached by horse in case of an emergency, but far enough from anywhere else that it was unlikely to be accidentally disturbed. They’d made sure that the cottage was fully supplied and prepared to have Hob keep Dream “captive” there for a day or two in order to thoroughly ravish him, before Hob escorts him to the house and drop hims off. He “threatens” Dream to keep his mouth shut about this experience and any other visits the “highwayman” might be inclined to make in the future, lest his husband-to-be “discover” that Dream was now ruinously compromised, before riding off and returning again as himself, inquiring with a grin and a twinkle in his eye if anything exciting had happened while he was gone.

Dream hadn’t thought he could possibly love his fiancé more than he already did, but after the deliciously thrilling experience he’d been so generously given, he feels like his heart could burst with emotion. In response to such a cheeky question he can only wordlessly throw himself at Hob and kiss him with all the passion he possesses, before remembering to play along and pulling back to claim that nothing particularly interesting had happened, he had just missed his betrothed so very much.

(Already Dream is looking forward to the next spontaneous appearance of The Highwayman, and wondering if there were any other roguish characters from his novels that Hob could also be convinced to masquerade as. Certainly he no longer has any concerns about the rest of their marriage being disappointingly sedate!)

-🪽anon

This is utterly wonderful and so delightfully written, I had so much fun reading and imagining the shenanigans.

Dream has so much to think about as his wedding day approaches that he almost forgets The Highwayman altogether. Certainly on the day of the nuptials he's thinking only of Hob, of their love for each other, and the deep contentment that he feels in the knowledge that they are forever united. Even better, Hob has planned a honeymoon at the seaside, which is something Dream has always longed for. Their wedding night is unspeakably perfect, and the morning after is even better. Dream is sure he could get used to being pleasured by his dear husband every morning.

For the duration of the honeymoon they stay at a very pleasant inn, and several days pass in utter bliss... before Dream wakes up one morning and Hob isn't there. He's disappointed, but only momentarily - the door creaks open and standing on the threshold... its The Highwayman!

Hob enters the room with a roguish grin and puts his (empty) pistol down at the end of the bed, before pouncing on Dream. He growls that he'd been laying in wait for a moment to catch him alone, that he needed to be sure that Dream would "behave" and not inform the authorities of his previous kidnapping. He says that Dream’s husband must be very unattentive to leave such a pretty little morsel waiting in bed...

It's a very nice wedding present, and Dream enjoys his second visit from The Highwayman almost more than the first. Hob allows himself to be a little more rough in this persona, and Dream loves it. Having all of his husbands strength let loose on his body is the most excellent treat. And after their morning adventure in bed, Hob sweeps him up and takes him on a long horseback gallop across the beach, which leaves Dream feeling thoroughly sore and sated. He's honestly pleased to be treated gently for a day or two after!

Hob has other characters he plans to debut later (The Pirate, for example), but The Highwayman will always be an old favourite. And of course, Dream loves his husband best, out of all the characters he may play <3

#🪽 anon #the sandman #dreamling #nsft

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doormatty3 · 6 months

Text

Echoes Of Madness (Possessed!Josh Lambert x Reader)

Masterlist Ao3

Summary:

[Possessed!Josh Lambert x Reader] [Possessed!Josh Lambert x Female Reader] You’ve been the Lambert family’s maid since Renai hired you when Dalton was in a coma, desperate for help with the household and when he recovered, you became an integral part of them. Despite your close proximity to the family, you couldn’t help but feel a twinge of envy towards the bond shared between Renai and Josh. However, Josh’s demeanour shifted after Dalton awoke from his coma, becoming moody and occasionally downright rude towards his wife. Yet, despite these shortcomings, you can’t deny your attraction towards him. Amidst the growing tension within the household, you can’t ignore the strange occurrences surrounding Josh. The more you witness, the warier you grow of him, grappling with confusion over his erratic behaviour - you can’t help but feel like someone else pulls the strings. And when you find him screaming at his reflection in the mirror, you realise he shares that magnetic attraction towards you - and you can be sure of one thing: You’re in for one hell of a ride. OR: Josh is possessed and possesses you with his cock.

Wordcount: 16851

Warnings: 18+, extremely dubious consent, unprotected sex, creampie, breeding, vaginal sex, smut, dirty talk, older man/ younger woman, daddy issues, face fucking, blowjob, fingering, spanking, bondage, rough oral sex, biting, choking, forced orgasm

A/N: You ask - I deliver

Content Warning: There's some extremely dubious consent - To be honest, the whole smut is kind of dubious. The protagonist is into it but it's still insanely problematic... So proceed with care and remember that Josh is after all possessed (and really hot).

If someone had asked you in your childhood what you’d end up doing for a living, being a maid wouldn’t have crossed your mind. But life has a way of surprising one, and yours took some turns and twists.

So one day, you stumbled upon a newspaper ad while out of work: a family was seeking a housekeeper because their son was in a coma. And that’s how you became the housekeeper for the Lambert family - a role you’ve held for quite some time now.

It had been Renai Lambert who sought assistance when both she and her husband Josh were overwhelmed by the emotional and logistical challenges, and maintaining the household became an insurmountable task.

In those trying times, you provided more than just cleaning and tidying services; you offered a sense of stability and support amidst the chaos and befriended the whole family.

Sure, there were a few times when they couldn’t pay you on time, but you never let it bother you. You understood the financial strain they were under, especially with Dalton’s medical bills looming over them. You knew they would compensate you as soon as they could, and that was enough for you to carry on with your duties.

Then, as if by magic, Dalton woke from his coma, and suddenly, everything seemed right again.

Initially, you harboured concerns about the future of your employment, fearing that your services might no longer be needed in light of Dalton’s recovery. However, to your relief, the Lamberts made it clear that they valued your presence and contributions beyond the context of Dalton’s illness.

_____

As you go about your duties within the Lambert household, a pang of envy occasionally creeps into your thoughts when you observe the seemingly perfect relationship between Renai and Josh. Their bond radiates with an undeniable warmth and understanding, a stark contrast to the complexities of your own personal life. Despite the challenges they’ve faced, their connection remains unwavering, leaving you to yearn for a love as deep and steadfast as theirs.

Josh, in particular, captures your attention with his striking features and undeniable charisma. His clear blue eyes sparkle with kindness and determination, drawing you in with their magnetic allure. His brown, short hair frames his face in a way that accentuates his rugged charm, while his strong yet gentle hands speak volumes of his dedication to his family. His slim and toned physique exudes confidence and strength, a testament to his unwavering commitment to both his loved ones and himself.

But it’s not just his physical attributes that captivate you; it’s his unwavering devotion to Renai and Dalton that truly sets him apart. His willingness to sacrifice and his boundless love for his family is evident in every action and gesture, leaving you with a sense of admiration tinged with a hint of longing.

And then there’s his laughter - a melodic symphony that fills the room with joy and warmth whenever he’s near. It’s infectious, drawing you into its embrace and momentarily easing the burdens weighing on your heart.

Though you can’t help but feel a twinge of guilt for harbouring such thoughts, you can’t deny the undeniable pull that Josh exerts over you.

But you noticed that the aftermath of Dalton’s coma took a toll on Josh and Renai’s relationship.

The once-unbreakable bond between them seemed to fray at the edges, leaving behind jagged wounds that festered beneath the surface.

Josh’s demeanour, in particular, underwent a noticeable shift, oscillating between moments of distant detachment and flashes of his former warmth and affection. There are times when his behaviour bordered on outright rudeness, his words sharp, and his actions cold, leaving Renai to navigate the turbulent waters of their relationship alone.

Yet, amidst the chaos, there were fleeting glimpses of the man you once knew - the devoted husband who doted on his wife and cherished his family with unwavering devotion.

But you knew better than to dwell on such observations, pushing aside any thoughts that strayed into forbidden territory. Josh was your employer, and his marriage to Renai was sacrosanct - a bond you had no right to intrude upon.

Despite his friendly demeanour towards you, you remained acutely aware of the professional boundaries that governed your relationship, steadfast in your resolve to maintain a respectful distance. It was a reality you begrudgingly accepted, even as the lines between employer and employee blurred with each passing day. And so, you buried any inklings of desire or longing beneath a facade of professional decorum, resigned to the silent ache that gnawed at your heart in the quiet moments of solitude.

_____

Lost in the rhythmic drone of the vacuum cleaner, you move through the Lamberts’ living room with a sense of detachment, as if operating on autopilot. The monotonous hum of the machine serves as a backdrop to the tumult of thoughts swirling within your mind, drowning out the outside world as you retreat into the sanctuary of your own thoughts.

With each pass of the vacuum cleaner, your mind drifts further into the depths of contemplation, grappling with the complexities of the situation unfolding before you. The tension between Josh and Renai, the fragile facade of normalcy that masks the underlying turmoil - it all weighs heavily on your shoulders, threatening to engulf you in its wake.

Despite your best efforts to remain focused on the task at hand, your thoughts wander down winding pathways, exploring the myriad possibilities and uncertainties that lie ahead. What will become of the Lambert family in the wake of Dalton’s recovery? Will Josh and Renai find their way back to each other, or will the cracks in their relationship widen into irreparable chasms?

The tension between Josh and Renai, the forbidden desires that simmer beneath the surface - they linger like shadows in the recesses of your mind, haunting you with their persistent presence.

As the vacuum cleaner glides effortlessly across the carpet, you find yourself yearning for the respite of silence, a moment of clarity amidst the chaos. But the relentless hum of the machine serves as a constant reminder of the reality that surrounds you, anchoring you to the present moment even as your mind drifts into the unknown.

For a fleeting moment, you consider switching off the vacuum, allowing the silence to envelop you like a comforting embrace. But the clamour of your inner turmoil proves too overwhelming, driving you to continue your relentless pursuit of cleanliness and order within the Lambert household.

And so, you continue to vacuum the Lamberts’ living room, lost in the labyrinth of your own thoughts, navigating the twists and turns of emotion with each step.

Over the deafening roar of the vacuum cleaner, you hear a noise - a faint rustling, like the flutter of wings against a silent sky.

The abrupt disruption jolts you from your reverie, scattering the fragments of your thoughts like leaves in the wind. Startled, you glance around the living room, determined to find the source of the disruption before you halt the incessant drone with a swift motion.

Its sudden silence leaves a void that echoes with anticipation.

Your senses, now heightened, scan the surroundings for any sign of disturbance. The air crackles with tension as you strain to discern the source of the commotion, but all you hear is the hushed murmur of the house settling into its familiar rhythm and the muted thrum of your heartbeat echoing in the cavernous expanse of the room.

Just as you begin to second-guess the validity of the noise, it comes again - a sharp thud reverberating from somewhere above, sending a jolt of apprehension coursing through your veins. Your heart quickens its pace as you realise that the sound is authentic and not a product of your imagination.

Curiosity stirs within you, a dormant ember reignited by the tantalising promise of the unknown. With measured steps, you ascend the staircase, each creak of the floorboards adding to the eerie atmosphere that permeates the hallway.

The dim light casts elongated shadows that dance along the walls, heightening the sense of unease that settles over you like a heavy cloak. They cling to the walls like spectres, their formless tendrils reaching out to ensnare unwary travellers in their embrace. The faint scent of lavender lingers in the air, mingling with the musty aroma of age-old secrets veiled in dust and decay.

Reaching the top of the stairs, you hesitate. Your pulse is loud in your ears, drowning out the sound of your own footsteps.

The hallway stretches out before you, a labyrinth of dimly lit corridors and closed doors shrouded in mystery.

Your eyes scan the surroundings, searching for any sign of disruption, any clue as to what could have caused the disturbance. But aside from the faint glow of lamplight and the soft rustle of curtains in the breeze, there’s nothing out of the ordinary. Summoning your courage, you press forward, guided by the siren song of the unknown. The floorboards creak beneath your weight, their protest a haunting refrain that echoes through the empty halls.

The unsettling quiet that follows the disturbance sets your nerves on edge, a sense of unease settling over you like a heavy fog. You hesitate for a moment before mustering the courage to call out for Josh Lambert, the only other person in the household at the time.

“Mr. Lambert?” you call out tentatively, the sound of your voice seeming to dissipate into the silence around you. “Are you there? Is everything alright?”

But the only response is the hollow echo of your own voice bouncing off the walls, amplifying the eerie stillness that surrounds you. A chill runs down your spine as you wait, straining your ears for any sign of life within the house. As the seconds tick by, a creeping sense of dread begins to gnaw at the edges of your consciousness. What if something has happened to Josh? What if you’re alone in this house with whatever caused the disturbance?

With a shaky breath, you take a hesitant step forward, heart pounding in your chest.

“Mr. Lambert, please,” you call out again, your voice tinged with desperation. “Are you there?”

But still, there’s no response, no indication that your words have reached their intended recipient. Fear tightens its grip on your chest, threatening to suffocate you with its weight.

Just as despair threatens to overwhelm you, a faint noise breaks through the oppressive silence - a soft click followed by the creak of a door being opened. Your heart leaps into your throat as you turn towards the sound, your breath catching in your chest.

Finally, the bedroom door swings open, revealing Josh’s familiar form bathed in the soft glow of lamplight. His tousled hair catches the glimmer of light filtering through the window, casting a halo of silver around his face. In the muted shadows of the hallway, his features are softened, his eyes alight with a quiet intensity. The lines of worry that once etched his brow have been smoothed away, replaced by a sense of quiet resolve that lends him an air of quiet confidence.

Relief floods through you like a tidal wave.

You take a deep breath, steeling yourself before addressing Josh, whose presence, though comforting, seems to carry an air of unease, a faint tension that sends shivers down your spine - a shift, a shadow that lingers at the edge of perception, eluding your grasp like smoke slipping through your fingers.

You study him intently, searching for any telltale sign of discord, but his demeanour remains serene, his gaze steady and unwavering.

“Mr. Lambert,” you begin tentatively, your voice wavering slightly, “is everything okay? I could have sworn I heard something falling over multiple times.”

Josh’s expression shifts, his features momentarily clouded with a hint of uncertainty, his gaze darting around the hallway as if searching for answers in the shadows.

“I didn’t hear anything,” he replies, his voice low and tinged with a subtle edge that sends a chill down your spine, “But let’s check it out together. Just to be sure.”

You follow Josh hesitantly, a creeping sense of dread gnawing at your insides as you traverse the dimly lit corridors of the house. Each step feels heavier than the last, as if the very air around you is thick with foreboding.

As you search each room, the feeling of unease only intensifies, amplified by Josh’s own palpable sense of tension. His movements are jerky, his eyes darting about as if expecting something - or someone - to leap out at any moment.

Returning to the living room, you can’t shake the feeling that something isn’t quite right. The memory of the strange disturbance lingers like a lingering fog, casting a shadow over the otherwise ordinary surroundings.

“Thank you, Mr. Lambert,” you manage to say, though your voice trembles slightly. “I guess I was just a little jumpy.”

Josh offers you a tight-lipped smile, though it does little to dispel the sense of disquiet that hangs in the air between you.

“No problem,” he replies, his voice strained. “I’m just glad everything seems to be okay.”

Your lips curl into a smile at his words, and as his eyes meet yours, he adds, “And call me Josh, please.”

His request for familiarity sends a sudden rush of warmth flooding your cheeks. You blush furiously, feeling the heat radiating from your face as if it were lit by an internal flame. His gentle smile in response only intensifies the fluttering sensation in your chest, and for a moment, time seems to stand still.

“O-Okay, Josh,” you stammer, your voice barely above a whisper. His smile widens at your reaction, a glimmer of amusement dancing in the depths of his eyes. Your breath catches in your throat, a fluttering sensation stirring in the pit of your stomach as you struggle to compose yourself.

“Thank you,” you manage to choke out, your words laced with a hint of embarrassment. His laughter fills the air, a melodic sound that washes over you like a gentle breeze, soothing the tumultuous currents that churn within.

His easygoing demeanour puts you at ease, and you find yourself exhaling a sigh of relief as the tension slowly melts away.

With a playful twinkle in his eye, Josh offers you a reassuring pat on the shoulder before disappearing back into the shadows of the hallway. And as you watch him go, a sense of warmth washes over you, the memory of his smile lingering like a beacon of light in the darkness.

With a newfound sense of confidence, you return to your tasks, the memory of Josh’s smile lighting the way forward, but the feeling of being watched lingering at the edges of your consciousness. And though you try to shake off the unease, you can’t help but feel that something lurks in the shadows.

_____

A few weeks pass, and the memory of the strange encounter with Josh begins to fade into the recesses of your mind. Life in the Lambert household settles into a familiar rhythm, the routine of your duties serving as a comforting anchor amidst the ebb and flow of daily life.

Yet, despite your best efforts to push the memory aside, a nagging sense of unease lingers in the back of your mind - a whisper of doubt that refuses to be silenced.

Today, however, you find yourself in a rush, with an appointment looming on the horizon. The urgency of your departure weighs heavily on your mind as you hurry through your morning routine. With frenzied steps, you navigate through the Lambert household, mentally ticking off tasks from your to-do list.

With a quick glance at the clock, you realise there’s still time to squeeze in one last task before you have to leave - the bathroom could use a quick clean. As you approach the door, intending to get it done swiftly, the faint murmur of voices catches your attention, causing you to pause in your tracks. Your curiosity is piqued, but you resist the urge to eavesdrop, not wanting to invade anyone’s privacy.

Though you strain to decipher the words since they remain indistinct, muffled by the barrier of the closed door, you recognise Josh’s voice amidst the faint murmurs.

You hesitate, unsure of whether you should proceed with cleaning or come back later. Gathering your courage, you knock lightly on the door, calling out, “Mr. Lambert, it’s me. Can I clean the bathroom now, or should I come back later?”

The voices abruptly fall silent, replaced by a heavy stillness that sends a shiver down your spine. With a furrowed brow, you knock on the door again, your heart pounding in your chest as you wait for a response.

After a moment, the door swings open to reveal Josh standing there, a charming smile gracing his features. For a moment, you find yourself breathless, struck by the sight of his handsome features illuminated by the soft glow of the bathroom light.

“Oh, hey there! You can go ahead and clean. Thanks for checking in,” he responds, his tone warm and inviting as he steps aside to allow you entry.

Despite the urgency of your task, you can’t help but feel a pang of guilt for interrupting whatever conversation Josh was engaged in. But as you glance back at Josh, his smile unwavering, you can’t help but feel a flutter of excitement in your stomach.

“Thanks, Mr. Lambert,” you offer apologetically, your manners kicking in automatically. “I didn’t want to interrupt your call.”

Josh’s smile falters for a moment before he shakes his head, his expression puzzled. “Call? Oh, I wasn’t talking to anyone. Don’t worry about it,” he reassures you, his tone genuine.

You pause, taken aback by his response. “I thought I heard you talking in here,” you explain, your voice trailing off as you struggle to find the right words.

But Josh shakes his head, his expression unwavering. “I wasn’t talking to anyone,” he insists, “Maybe you heard something else.”

His words send a shiver down your spine, and you can’t help but feel a surge of unease at the certainty in his voice. Could you have been mistaken? The possibility gnaws at you, but deep down, a lingering sense of doubt remains.

As you stand there, grappling with the uncertainty, Josh’s gentle reminder breaks through your thoughts. “And remember,” he adds with a playful glint in his eye, “it’s Josh.”

Your cheeks flush crimson at the reminder, the warmth spreading across your face as you meet his gaze. “Of course, Josh,” your voice steady despite the flutter of excitement in your chest.

Josh’s smile widens at your reaction, a hint of amusement dancing in his eyes. With a casual wave of his hand, he dismisses the awkward moment, leaving you to ponder the encounter as he exits the room, his footsteps echoing in the hallway beyond.

Alone once again, you can’t shake the nagging sense of doubt that lingers in your mind.

Why would Josh deny such a mundane thing? And what were those voices you heard? With a heavy sigh, you push aside your concerns and focus on the task at hand, but the mystery of the whispered conversation continues to haunt you as you clean the bathroom.

As you meticulously scrub and polish, your mind races with questions, each unanswered query only deepening the sense of unease that gnaws at your conscience.

_____

The day begins like any other as you unlock the door to the Lambert household, the familiar routine of cleaning the house already settling in.

Yet, the usual calmness is abruptly shattered by a sudden sound that pierces the air - a voice raised in what sounds like frantic conversation. It’s Josh, his tone pressing and animated, echoing through the quiet rooms.

A chill runs down your spine as you freeze in place, the hairs on the back of your neck standing on end. It’s not the first time you’ve heard Josh engaged in what seems like an intense discussion, but there’s something different this time - a sense of urgency that renders you momentarily breathless.

Unable to ignore the unease gnawing at you, you abandon your cleaning supplies and make your way upstairs, each step heavy with apprehension. The sound of Josh’s voice grows louder with each passing moment, his words becoming more distinct as you approach.

“Mr. Lambert?” you call out tentatively as you climb, your voice seemingly swallowed by the eerie silence that permeates the house. Anxiety gnaws at your insides as you press forward, each step feeling heavier than the last.

After what seems like an eternity, the murmurs of Josh’s voice reach your ears once more. “You have to leave. Leave me alone,” he pleads, the desperation in his tone sending a shiver down your spine.

Approaching the bathroom, your heart pounds in your chest as you push open the door, revealing a sight that leaves you speechless and freezes you in your tracks.

There stands Josh in front of the mirror, seemingly engaged in a heated argument with his own reflection.

His appearance is startling - a far cry from the composed and collected man you’re accustomed to seeing. Dark circles rim his blue eyes, their usual sparkle replaced by a dull, haunted gaze. His complexion is ashen and sickly, a stark contrast to his usual vitality. And to add to the peculiarity, you notice that his shirt is buttoned wrongly, a small detail that only adds to the unsettling atmosphere.

Caught off guard by the disturbing scene before you, fear grips your entire being as Josh’s gaze meets yours in the mirror. In a split second, instinct takes over, and without a second thought, your fight-or-flight response kicks in. You step back slowly, a wave of terror washing over you as you turn and bolt from the room, desperate to escape the unsettling aura that surrounds Josh.

The urgency of the moment propels you forward, your heart pounding in your chest as you flee from the unsettling encounter in the bathroom. Each step echoes loudly in the empty hallway, reverberating with the weight of fear and uncertainty that grips you.

As you race down the corridor, the sound of Josh’s heavy footsteps reverberates behind you, each thud echoing with a sense of urgency that drives you onward. “Stop!” he commands, his voice filled with an intensity that sends a shiver down your spine.

Despite the pounding of your heart and the adrenaline coursing through your veins, something deep within you refuses to obey. With determination propelling your every move, you push forward, your feet carrying you faster and faster towards the sanctuary of the exit.

Your breath comes in ragged gasps as you push yourself to go faster, the adrenaline fueling your every movement. The hallway stretches endlessly before you, each turn offering a fleeting glimpse of escape that seems just out of reach.

But just as you reach the end of the hallway, a powerful force crashes into you from behind, knocking you off balance and sending you sprawling against the wall with a resounding thud. Before you can react, Josh is upon you, his entire body pressing you against the surface, trapping you in a suffocating embrace. The look on his face is nothing short of predatory, his eyes ablaze with a frenzied intensity that sends chills down your spine.

Trapped in his grasp, you are powerless to resist as he leans in closer, his breath hot against your skin. The air crackles with tension as he gazes down at you, his features contorted in a mix of desperation and something darker, something primal and instinctual.

Despite the looming threat and the palpable fear that courses through your veins, you can’t help but notice the undeniable sensations that accompany Josh’s closeness. His body pressed against yours exudes warmth, a stark contrast to the coldness of the wall against your back.

For a few heart-stopping seconds, Josh simply holds you in his grasp, his gaze locking onto yours with an otherwordly intensity. In that brief, suspended moment, time seems to stand still. The only sound is the frantic pounding of your own heart.

Then, finally, he breaks the silence, his voice a low rumble that cuts through the tension like a knife. “Why did you run from me?” he asks, his words laden with confusion and a hint of hurt.

Caught off guard by the question, you struggle to find the right words, your mind racing as you search for an explanation. The truth is, you’re not entirely sure why you fled from him in the first place - only that the overwhelming sense of fear and unease drove you to act on instinct without pausing to consider the consequences.

“I...I don’t know,” you stammer, your voice barely above a whisper. “I was scared…you scared me.”

As the words tumble from your lips, you can’t help but feel a pang of guilt at the look of hurt that flickers across Josh’s face. Despite the danger of the situation, there’s a vulnerability in his expression that speaks to a deeper, more human side of him - one that you hadn’t anticipated.

“I’m sorry,” he murmurs, his voice barely audible above the pounding of your heart. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

As Josh’s gaze holds yours, a myriad of emotions swirl within you, tangled and tumultuous. Despite the fear that still grips you, you can’t deny the undeniable pull of attraction coursing through your veins, drawing you inexplicably closer to him.

Your breath grows shallow, your heart hammering in your chest as you struggle to make sense of the conflicting desires that war within you. On one hand, there’s the undeniable danger of the situation - the fear that still lingers in the air, casting a shadow over everything. And yet, beneath it all, there’s a primal, instinctual longing that you can’t ignore - a desire that burns hot and bright, threatening to consume you from within.

You watch Josh with a mix of fascination and trepidation, taking in his otherworldly appearance and the weariness etched into every line of his face. His eyes, blown wide with an intensity that sends a shiver down your spine, hold a depth of emotion that you can’t quite decipher.

Abruptly, he leans in, running his nose along your neck. You can feel the heat of his breath against your skin, sending goosebumps erupting in its wake. A soft whimper escapes your lips as his touch ignites a fire deep within you, stirring something that demands to be sated.

Your eyes flutter closed as you surrender to the sensation, losing yourself in the heady rush of desire that courses through your veins. It’s as if every nerve in your body is alight with anticipation, craving the touch of him. You feel a rush of heat flood your cheeks as his warm breath brushes against your skin, sending shivers down your spine. His movements are deliberate and purposeful, as if he’s trying to memorise every inch of you.

And then, as his nose traces along your skin, you feel a low, guttural sound rumble from deep within his chest - a primal groan of pleasure and desire that sends a thrill coursing through your veins.

Your eyes are drawn to his lips as he licks them when he pulls back, a gesture that sends a jolt of heat coursing through you. Without hesitation and much thought, you lean in, capturing his lips with your own in a kiss that’s both desperate and hungry.

As Josh’s hands bury themselves in your hair when he kisses you back, a surge of anticipation courses through you. Before you can react, he pulls your head back roughly, forcing your back to collide with the unyielding surface of the wall. A sharp pang of pain shoots through your skull as the impact reverberates through your body, leaving you momentarily stunned.

The pain radiates outwards, mingling with the heady rush of desire that still pulses within you. Despite the discomfort, there’s an undeniable thrill in the sensation, a primal excitement that courses through your veins.

The kiss is bruising, almost punishing, as if he’s trying to erase all thought and reason from your mind. His touch is rough and demanding, as if he’s determined to claim you as his own.

But even as your head spins with the force of his kiss, a part of you can’t help but revel in the intensity of the moment. There’s something exhilarating about the raw passion that burns between you, a fire that refuses to be extinguished.

Caught in the storm of desire that rages within you, there’s nothing you can do but surrender to the irresistible pull of the moment. His touch ignites a fire within you, burning hot and fierce as it consumes you from the inside out.

With each passing second, you find yourself losing all sense of control, swept away by the sheer intensity of the connection between you. His hands, rough and insistent, leave trails of heat in their wake as they roam hungrily over your body.

With Josh still pressed against you, the sensation of his body against yours sends a jolt of electricity coursing through your veins.

As his arms envelop you, pulling you closer, you find yourself melting into his touch, the lines between fear and desire blurring in the heat of the moment. His closeness is intoxicating, igniting a fire within you that burns hotter with each passing second.

As Josh’s overpowering presence engulfs you, every fibre of your being is consumed by a whirlwind of sensations. His demanding behaviour, his intoxicating scent, the taste of him lingering on your lips - it all swirls together in a dizzying torrent that leaves you utterly overwhelmed.

You feel how intensely and instinctively you react to him, from the fire in your veins to the way your nipples start to grow hard and how your cunt starts to get wet.

When he breaks the kiss, you feel his hot breath against your lips, and a wave of realisation washes over you, pulling you back to reality.

“Please, Mr. Lambert, this isn’t right,” you manage to say, your voice trembling with a mixture of fear and desire. It is not like you don’t want him, but he is still married to Renai and your employer, and more importantly, he doesn’t seem to be in the right headspace.

But instead of heeding your plea, Josh only laughs - a deep, dark sound that reverberates through the room, sending shivers down your spine. His eyes gleam with an intensity that both thrills and terrifies you, their dark depths holding you captive in their gaze.

“Not you calling me Mr. Lambert like it doesn’t turn you on just to say it,” he retorts, his voice low and husky, laced with a hint of amusement. The corner of his mouth quirks up in a sly grin, and for a moment, you’re struck by the sheer magnetism of his presence.

As Josh’s lips meet yours once more, the kiss is deep and consuming. But this time, there’s an urgency to his touch, a hunger that ignites a fire within you both.

Your lips collide with a fervent intensity, teeth clicking against each other in a desperate embrace. The sensation is electric, each movement sending sparks flying as desire consumes you both.

Lost in the heat of the moment, you surrender to the kiss, your inhibitions melting away as passion takes hold. Some part of you is sure that this is wrong - but the way he feels against you, how he consumes you - frenzied and almost as if possessed by something - you can’t help but surrender to him.

As Josh’s tongue invades your mouth, you taste the heady mixture of desire and desperation that lingers on his lips. His hold on you tightens, pulling you closer until there’s no space left between you, his arms wrapped around you with a possessiveness that sends a thrill down your spine.

Lost in the intoxicating embrace, you surrender to the moment, letting yourself be consumed by the heat of passion that courses through your veins. His touch ignites a fire within you, a hunger that burns hot and fierce as you melt into his embrace.

As Josh’s lips part from yours, a low, almost primal sound rumbles deep in his throat - a feral growl that sends a shiver down your spine. His eyes, dark with desire, bore into yours with an intensity that leaves you breathless.

“I can smell you,” he murmurs, his voice rough with emotion. “I know you want me.”

His words hang in the air between you, heavy with meaning and intent. There’s a possessiveness in his tone, a certainty that sends a rush of heat flooding through your veins as you involuntarily clench your thighs - your pussy already slick with arousal.

Caught off guard by the raw intensity of his confession, you find yourself at a loss for words. The truth in his words is undeniable, a silent acknowledgement of the desires that simmer beneath the surface.

Without waiting for a response, Josh’s lips crash against yours once more, a hungry fervour consuming every inch of your being. The kiss is fervent, almost desperate, as if he’s trying to claim you as his own one more.

A sharp pang of pain shoots through you as his teeth sink into your lip, drawing blood and pulling you back to reality. The metallic tang of iron fills your mouth, mingling with the heady taste of desire that lingers between you. Despite the pain, there’s a primal thrill in the sensation, a rawness that ignites a fire deep within your core.

His hands roam hungrily over your body, tracing every curve and contour with an urgency that leaves you gasping for air. The touch of his fingertips against your skin sends electric sparks dancing along your nerves, each caress leaving you achingly aware of the mounting tension between you.

At that moment, there’s no room for thought or hesitation - only the overwhelming rush of sensation that consumes you both. You lose yourself in the heat of the moment, surrendering to the primal instinct that drives you together, body and soul.

With a suddenness that leaves you reeling, Josh abruptly pulls away from the kiss, leaving you breathless and longing for more. His gaze is intense, dark with desire as he looks at you with hunger-filled eyes.

You’re acutely aware of the heady scent of arousal that surrounds you, mingling with the sweet tang of blood on your lips. It’s a combination that leaves you dizzy with longing, your senses heightened to a fever pitch.

He comes closer again and trails wet kisses over your jaw and neck, and when he lingers over your pulse point, his touch ignites a fire within you, a hunger that burns hot and fierce.

With a suddenness that catches you off guard, his teeth sink into the tender flesh of your neck, right where he just traced with his tongue, while his grip on you tightens, holding you in place as if afraid you might pull away. The pressure of his teeth against your skin sends a shiver down your spine, igniting a fire within you that burns hotter with each passing second.

The sharp pain shoots through you like a bolt of lightning, causing you to let out an involuntary whimper and buck your hips against his. You feel the hardness of his cock against you, a testament to his own arousal.

Your breath catches in your throat as the pain radiates outwards, mixing with the heady rush of desire that still courses through your veins. Despite the sting, there’s an undeniable thrill in the sensation, a rawness that heightens the intensity of the moment.

But even as desire courses through you, a part of you can’t help but feel a twinge of fear at the suddenness of his actions. The line between pleasure and pain blurs in the heat of the moment, leaving you breathless and wanting more even as you whimper in discomfort.

As Josh pulls away, a mixture of relief and longing wash over you. His gaze is intense, dark with desire as he looks at you, his chest rising and falling with each heavy breath.

In the aftermath of his bite, you feel a dull throb where his teeth had sunk into your skin, the sensation a potent reminder of the raw intensity of the moment. But as he leans in closer, his tongue tracing over the mark he left behind, a rush of heat floods your senses, sending a shiver down your spine as you let out a breathy moan.

His touch is gentle, almost reverent as if he’s trying to soothe the pain he caused with his earlier actions. The feel of his tongue against your skin sends a jolt of pleasure coursing through you, erasing the discomfort and replacing it with a heady rush of desire.

With each lick, each caress, the tension between you grows thicker, electrified by the lingering heat of your shared passion. And as he pulls away, his breath heavy against your skin, you’re left reeling, your senses ablaze with longing.

“I knew you were a slut,” he murmurs, his words dripping with disdain and desire.

And then, before you can react, he crushes his lips against yours once more, a bruising kiss that borders on violence. The force of it knocks the breath from your lungs, leaving you gasping for air as he claims you with a possessiveness that borders on obsession.

The sheer force of his embrace leaves you gasping for air as if you’ve been winded. Each press of his lips against yours feels like a demand, a possessive claim that leaves no room for resistance.

In that moment, you’re acutely aware of the raw power of his desire, the intensity of his need for you. It’s as if he’s trying to erase all thought and reason from your mind, leaving only the primal urge to surrender to him completely.

“Don’t think I haven’t noticed you,” he murmurs, his words laced with a hunger that sends a shiver down your spine as he sinks his teeth into your neck one more. “With your tight shirts and pants. Fuck, you drive me crazy.”

His admission hangs heavy in the air, a confession of desire that leaves you breathless and wanting more. It’s as if he’s stripped away all pretence, laying bare the raw, unbridled passion that simmers beneath the surface.

“And there’s nothing more I’d like to do than bend you over,” he continues, his voice low and husky with desire. The words send a thrill of excitement coursing through you, mingling with a sense of apprehension at the sheer intensity of his longing.

With a sudden surge of primal instinct, Josh’s hands tear open your shirt, the fabric yielding to his strength with a resounding rip. The sound echoes in the room, a stark reminder of the raw intensity of the moment.

As the fabric falls away, exposing your chest to the cool air, a rush of anticipation courses through you, mingling with the heady mix of desire that hangs heavy in the air. You can feel the weight of his gaze on you, hot and intense, as he takes in the sight before him.

You can feel your heart pounding in your chest, the erratic rhythm matching the tumultuous emotions swirling within you. Part of you is happy - almost giddy - you decided to forgo the bra today since it gives him better access.

Before you can even register what’s happening, Josh’s mouth crashes against your bare chest, igniting a firestorm of sensation that consumes you whole.

At first, he places light, wet kisses on your naked collarbones before starting to suck purple marks into your skin that cause you to whimper and moan with each new one.

The combination of the cold air hitting the wet spots and the slight pain he causes drives you wild. You feel your pussy growing wetter and wetter, desperate for him to give you more.

As if he knows what you need, he bares his teeth and bites down into the soft skin of your bare tits. Each nip of his teeth is like a branding, leaving a searing imprint of his desire in its wake, marking you as his own.

Every nerve ending is electrified with a jolt of pleasure as he continues to explore and mark you. You whither and moan, pressed against him as he kisses and tastes your skin, careful not to touch your hard nipples.

After what almost feels like torture, he lifts his head to meet your eyes, and it’s as if a current of electricity is coursing through your veins, sparking with the sheer intensity of his passion evident in his eyes.

You watch as he runs his tongue over his lips before he lowers his head to finally capture your hard nipple with his mouth.

A loud moan escapes you when he flicks it with his tongue and bites down softly before pulling it upwards with his teeth. The minimal stimulation feels like it has a direct connection to your neglected cunt, arousal crashing low in your belly as you buck your hips against his again.

You feel Josh’s hard cock straining in his jeans, and you press against him once more, desperate for some stimulation.

Josh’s low growl reverberates through the room, sending a shiver down your spine as he releases his grip on your skin. The sudden absence of his touch leaves you feeling strangely empty, aching for more even as you struggle to catch your breath.

The cold air on your wet skin only adds to the frenzy you are experiencing as you feel it throb.

Your heart pounds in your chest, the rhythm erratic and wild, matching the frantic pace of your thoughts. Every nerve ending is alight with sensation, throbbing with an intensity that threatens to overwhelm you.

With a sudden, commanding force, Josh’s hand closes around your throat, his grip strong and unyielding. The pressure tightens around your neck, a firm reminder of his dominance as you feel the weight of his touch pressing into your skin.

You gasp. The sensation is both exhilarating and terrifying as if you’re teetering on the edge of a precipice, unsure whether to fall or pull back. His touch sends a shockwave coursing through your body, leaving you trembling in its wake.

And then there are his eyes - blue orbs that seem almost swallowed by the darkness, pools of intense desire that draw you in with an irresistible pull. They hold you captive, trapping you in their gaze as if daring you to look away.

With a guttural growl, Josh’s voice rumbles through the air, dripping with both desire and disdain. “Can’t get enough, whore?” His words cut through the silence like a knife, sharp and biting, as he asserts his dominance over you.

You flinch at the harshness of his tone, the weight of his words settling heavily on your shoulders. There’s a mixture of arousal and shame swirling within you, a heady concoction that leaves you dizzy and disoriented.

And then, without warning, he leans in close, his tongue tracing a path along the side of your face. The sensation is both electrifying and repulsive, sending a shiver down your spine as you struggle to reconcile the conflicting emotions raging within you.

His touch is possessive, almost violent in its intensity as if he’s staking his claim on you once more.

With a ferocious intensity, Josh’s grip around your throat tightens, his fingers digging into your skin with an almost bruising force. The pressure sends a jolt of both pain and pleasure coursing through you, heightening your senses to a fever pitch.

As his other hand roams down your body, you feel a surge of anticipation ripple through you, your skin prickling with goosebumps at his touch. His fingers trace a tantalising path along your curves, leaving a trail of fire in their wake.

Every touch is electric, sending shockwaves of sensation radiating through your body. It’s as if he’s igniting a fire within you, stoking the flames of desire until they threaten to consume you whole.

With a sudden, forceful movement, Josh uses his legs to kick open yours, spreading them wide as you’re pressed against the wall. The action is swift and commanding, leaving you feeling exposed and vulnerable, your body trembling with anticipation.

As your legs are forced apart, you feel a surge of heat rush through you, your pulse quickening at the raw display of dominance.

Pressed against the wall, you’re acutely aware of every sensation - the coolness of the surface against your skin, the heat of Josh’s body pressed against yours, the overwhelming sense of powerlessness that washes over you.

Josh presses his knee into your clothed pussy, the pressure sending a shockwave of sensation coursing through your body. It’s a jolt of pleasure and pain that leaves you gasping for breath, your senses overwhelmed by the intensity of the feeling.

The pressure of his knee against your skin is firm and unyielding, pressing into you with a force that borders on agonizing. Every movement sends a ripple of pleasure radiating through you.

Once he’s satisfied with the position, Josh pulls his knee away, the sudden release leaving you feeling both relieved and strangely bereft. You take in a shaky breath, trying to steady yourself as you await his next move.

“Stay,” he commands, his voice low and authoritative, sending a shiver down your spine. It’s a simple word, but it carries the weight of his dominance, leaving you rooted to the spot as if by some unseen force.

You nod obediently, unable to tear your gaze away from him as he reaches for the waistband of your pants. The anticipation builds within you, a mixture of excitement and apprehension swirling in the pit of your stomach.

With practised ease, he undoes the button and zipper of your pants, his movements deliberate and unhurried. Each touch sends a thrill of anticipation coursing through you, your breath catching in your throat as you wait.

In a swift and deliberate motion, Josh pulls down your pants, exposing you completely to his hungry gaze. The fabric slips down your legs, pooling at your feet, leaving you feeling exposed and vulnerable yet strangely exhilarated by the raw display of dominance.

You feel a surge of heat rush through you, your pulse quickening with anticipation. It’s as if a floodgate has been opened, releasing a torrent of desire that threatens to overwhelm you completely.

With a tantalising slowness, Josh trails his fingers along the hem of your underwear, the light touch sending shivers of anticipation racing down your spine. Each caress is deliberate, drawing out the moment and heightening the tension between you.

You can feel the heat of his touch against your skin, his fingers leaving a trail of fire in their wake as they skim along the fabric. It’s as if he’s testing your limits, pushing you to the edge of your control with every teasing stroke.

Your breath catches in your throat as his touch lingers, sending a jolt of electricity coursing through you.

With a husky voice, Josh murmurs in your ear, “You’re soaked,” as his fingers brush against your clothed cunt. His words send a jolt of electricity through you that leaves you trembling with anticipation.

You can feel the heat of his breath against your skin, sending shivers down your spine as he leans in closer. The air crackles with tension, thick with the heady scent of arousal that hangs between you like a veil.

As his fingers explore your pussy through your panties, you can’t help but moan softly, your body responding instinctively to his touch. It’s as if he knows exactly how to drive you wild, how to push you to the brink of ecstasy with every caress.

With a primal growl, Josh has had enough teasing. In one swift motion, he rips away your underwear. The fabric tears away with a sharp sound, echoing in the air like a crack of thunder, and you gasp at the suddenness of his action, leaving you completely exposed before him.

Now wholly vulnerable, you feel a rush of heat flood your body, your senses overwhelmed by him. The torn fabric hangs limply at your feet, a stark reminder of the power he wields over you in this moment.

You can feel the weight of his gaze on you, hot and intense, as he takes in the sight before him with dark, hooded eyes. There’s a hunger in his gaze, a primal desire that leaves you breathless and trembling in its wake. Almost on instinct, you close your legs, a futile attempt to deny Josh access to your exposed cunt. But he doesn’t falter; his determination is evident as he refuses to be deterred by your feeble resistance and rather pushes your legs open again.

“There we go,” he murmurs, his voice dripping with satisfaction as he forces you to comply with his command. “Now, I want you to continue to spread your legs even wider for me.”

His words send a shiver down your spine, a potent mixture of desire and fear coursing through you. You can feel the heat of his gaze on you, his intensity unwavering as he exerts his control over you.

As he pushes one finger inside you, you can’t help but moan softly, your body responding instinctively to his touch.

Josh continues to push and probe deeper, his finger stretching your tight walls further with each insistent thrust. You can feel the pressure building inside you, the sensation both intense and overwhelming as he delves deeper into the depths of your desire.

After what feels like an eternity, his fingers brush against something hidden deep within you, sending a shockwave of pleasure coursing through your body. A gasp escapes your lips as you feel a surge of heat flood your senses, your body responding instinctively to his touch.

“Good girl,” he murmurs, his voice low and husky with desire. “Now, I want you to relax and let me take control.”

His words wash over you like a wave, soothing and commanding all at once. You find yourself yielding to his touch, surrendering to the overwhelming sensation of pleasure that threatens to consume you whole.

A smirk dances across Josh’s lips as he leans in closer, his warm breath tickling your ear as he whispers, “Yes. That’s a good girl.” His words send a shiver down your spine, a mixture of pleasure and anticipation coursing through you at his commanding tone.

With deliberate precision, he begins to push another finger inside you, the sensation both intense and electrifying. You can feel yourself stretching to accommodate him, your body responding eagerly to his touch as he delves deeper still.

His fingers penetrate you fully, searching for the right angle to send you spiralling into ecstasy. Each movement is deliberately calculated, as he explores every inch of your cunt with expert precision.

As he continues to push deeper, you can’t help but moan softly, the pleasure building to an almost unbearable intensity.

When he slowly begins to thrust his fingers in and out of your wet pussy, stretching you further with each movement, you begin to moan and whimper.

You feel like his touch drives you mad - it’s as if every caress, every sensation, sends sparks flying through your body, igniting a firestorm of desire that threatens to consume you whole.

“Hush, just relax and enjoy what I’m giving to you” Josh’s voice is smooth and reassuring, a comforting presence amidst the whirlwind of sensations as his breath comes out in short, ragged gasps.

His words wash over you like a soothing balm, easing the tension that had been building within you. With a sense of trust and surrender, you allow yourself to let go completely, lost in the moment and the pleasure he provides.

As Josh continues to work his magic, his touch sending ripples of pleasure coursing through your body, you find yourself drifting deeper into a state of blissful abandon. Every caress, every movement, leaving you breathless and wanting more.

He roughly brushes his thumb over your clit, making you buck your hips against his hand with a low hiss.

“Stay. Still.” Josh’s voice is a low, commanding growl, each word punctuated by a rough touch of his fingers against your cunt, sending a jolt of electricity through your body.

The digits of his other hand dig into the skin of your hip.

His grip is firm and possessive as if he’s staking his claim over you in the most primal way. You can feel the heat of his desire radiating off him, his intensity overwhelming as he asserts his dominance over you.

You feel yourself clenching around his fingers, an involuntary response to his rough treatment that just scratches an itch you didn’t know you had.

“Oh, you like that?” Josh’s voice is a low, husky murmur laced with desire and satisfaction as he picks up the pace even more, slamming his fingers into you with rough precision. His thumb continues to rub against your clit, driving you wild with pleasure. “You’re such a dirty girl.”

His words send a thrill of excitement coursing through you, igniting a firestorm of desire that threatens to consume you whole. You can feel the heat of his gaze on you, hot and intense, as he revels in the power he holds over you.

Moans spill out your mouth, accompanied by the wet squelching sound of his fingers entering and stretching your pussy again and again.

You’re completely gone, lost in a haze of desire and ecstasy. Your mind is devoid of coherent thoughts, consumed entirely by the intoxicating presence of Josh. He is all you can think about, all you can feel, as his touch sends waves of pleasure rippling through your body.

At that moment, there’s no room for anything else - only the overwhelming sensation of being completely and utterly consumed by him.

You find yourself drifting deeper and deeper into a state of pure bliss, lost in a world of sensation and desire. Nothing else matters but him, his touch, his voice, as he guides you further and further into a realm of unbridled passion and ecstasy.

“You’re such a dirty girl,” Josh hisses, his voice dripping with desire and dominance as he continues to play you like an instrument.

His words send a shiver down your spine, a mixture of arousal and anticipation coursing through your veins. Under the weight of his gaze, you feel a sense of surrender, unable to resist the intoxicating pull he has over you.

His mouth finds your neck again, his teeth grazing across your skin as he kisses and nips at you, each one leaving a trail of fire in its wake. The sensation is both exhilarating and slightly painful, a tangible reminder of his dominance and possession over you.

With each bite, each hickey, you feel a surge of arousal coursing through your veins, your skin tingling with a mixture of pleasure and pain. It’s as if he’s branding you as his own, leaving his mark on your skin for all to see.

“Come for me now,” Josh commands, his voice laced with authority and desire, increasing the pressure on your clit with his thumb as he thrusts deeper and harder.

His words send a jolt of electricity through you, a surge of arousal coursing through your veins. Under the weight of his command, you feel a sense of urgency, a need to obey his every word.

Lost in the intensity of the moment, you surrender completely to his will, allowing yourself to be carried away by the waves of pleasure he provides, and you cum, whimpering and bucking your hips.

As the tides of pleasure wash over you, you feel a sense of liberation, a release of all the tension and desire that had been building within you. Josh’s command echoes in your mind, driving you to new heights of ecstasy as you give in completely to the pleasure he provides.

“Good girl,” Josh praises you, his voice tender and full of admiration as your body shudders from the intense orgasm.

His fingers relentlessly pound away at your tight cunt, as his thumb continues to rub against your clit, driving you to new heights of pleasure as you ride out your high.

The words wash over you like a soothing balm, comforting and reassuring after the storm of pleasure you just experienced. You feel a sense of pride swell within you, knowing that you’ve pleased him and fulfilled his desires.

As your body begins to relax from the intensity of your climax, you lean into Josh, seeking solace in his arms, and he slowly begins to pull his fingers out of you.

“Now that you’re nice and loose, it’s time for my cock.” Josh mumbles against your lips, his voice husky with desire.

His words send a shiver down your spine, anticipation coursing through your veins as you feel a renewed sense of arousal building within you.

A breathy moan falls from your lips as you can’t help but feel a surge of excitement at the prospect of what’s to come, eager to continue exploring the depths of pleasure with him.

Hearing your moan, he growls low and deep in his throat, his body shaking with need. The sound reverberates through the air, filling the room with raw, primal desire. It’s as if your moan ignites a fire within him, fueling his own craving for you.

His growl sends a shiver down your spine, a delicious thrill that only serves to heighten the intensity of the moment. You can feel the heat of his desire radiating from him, palpable and intoxicating as it washes over you.

He pulls his hand away from you, the loss of contact leaving you feeling strangely empty and yearning for more. With a sense of urgency, he unbuttons his pants, the sound echoing in the room as he frees his throbbing cock.

Your breath catches in your throat as you watch him, your eyes drawn to his dick that’s both thick and long, with precum glistening on the reddish head.

You whimper as the sight of him fills you with a heady mix of excitement and arousal. It’s as if every nerve in your body is on fire, your senses overwhelmed by the raw, primal energy that emanates from him.

“Take it, baby. Take all of me,” he groans, his voice thick with desire and longing as he positions himself at your entrance, his cockhead pressing against your wet folds.

With a hard thrust, he buries himself inside you, filling you up completely.

The sensation pushes all the breath from your lungs, leaving you gasping for air as your head falls back against the wall. You’re overwhelmed by the intensity of the moment, and your senses are flooded with the sheer pleasure of being consumed by him.

As you adjust to the feeling of him inside, you realise he’s not wearing a condom, so his bare cock is filling your cunt completely.

“Shit, Josh,” you whimper, your voice trembling with concern, “You’re not wearing a condom.”

His eyes lock on yours, his face contorted in lust as he pushes deeper. You notice how blown wide his eyes look, their intensity almost unnerving as they bore into yours. His features are strained, every muscle in his face tense with desire, and you can see beads of sweat forming on his forehead, glistening in the dim light.

Despite the urgency of the situation, you find yourself captivated by him, unable to look away from the sheer intensity of his desire.

“I don’t care about condoms right now, baby,” Josh growls, his voice low and husky with desire.

His words send a thrill coursing through you, igniting a firestorm of desire deep within your core. Despite the nagging voice of reason in the back of your mind, you find yourself unable to resist the overwhelming pull of his passion.

In that moment, there’s a sense of reckless abandon, a willingness to throw caution to the wind in pursuit of the raw, unbridled pleasure that only he can provide. You can feel the heat of his desire radiating from him, intoxicating and all-consuming as it washes over you.

His lips find yours once again, capturing them in a searing kiss that steals your breath away as he begins to move inside you, his thrusts deep and powerful. He reaches down to grip your hips, guiding you against him as he takes control of the rhythm.

His other hand slides up your stomach and over your breasts, pinching and twisting a nipple as he takes you harder and deeper.

At that electrifying moment, time seems to stand still as you lose yourself in the heat of his embrace. His kiss is a fiery inferno, igniting a blaze of desire within you that threatens to consume you whole.

You can feel the urgency in his touch, the raw hunger that drives him as he explores every inch of your mouth with a fervour that leaves you dizzy with desire. His lips move with a skilful precision, coaxing soft moans of pleasure from your lips as you melt into his embrace.

And as his lips finally part from yours, you find yourself longing for more, yearning to be consumed once again by the fiery passion that burns between you.

“But…I’m not on birth control,” you whimper as the haze momentarily lifts, the reality of the situation sinking in as you voice your concern. The possibility of him getting you pregnant looms large in your mind, casting a shadow over the heat of the moment as Josh continues to thrust into your wet cunt unwaveringly.

“I don’t care,” he repeats his earlier words, his voice thick with desire as he disregards your concerns. With a primal intensity, he sinks his teeth into your neck once again, sending a jolt of pleasure-pain coursing through your body, “You’re going to take it when I cum - you're gonna love it.”

As his teeth graze against your skin, you can feel the heat of his desire radiating from him as it washes over you, and you buck your hips against his.

You feel his cock hitting a spot deep inside you that makes you moan breathlessly as well as clench around him.

You gaze at Josh, captivated by the sight of him lost in ecstasy. His eyes flutter closed, his head thrown back, revealing the graceful curve of his neck. At that moment, he looks utterly breathtaking, his features softened by pleasure, a blissful expression gracing his handsome face.

The play of emotions across his features and the subtle movements of his lips as he gasps for breath all serve to heighten his allure. His tousled hair falls in disarray around his face, adding to his rugged charm. The flush of arousal paints his cheeks a rosy hue, highlighting the chiselled contours of his jawline.

In the dim light, every inch of him seems to glow with an ethereal radiance, casting him in an almost otherworldly light.

He grinds against you, his hips pumping rhythmically as he loses himself in the sensation of being inside you.

“Oh fuck, yes...” He groans, his body trembling as he pushes deeper into you with each thrust, his thick dick hitting your cervix with a loud smack, making you cry out. “You feel so good... so fucking tight.”

The rough texture of the wall adds a new dimension to the already intense sensations coursing through your veins. As Josh presses you against it with a ferocity that leaves you breathless, every scrape and bump against your skin sends sparks of pleasure shooting through your body.

His lips curve into a wicked grin as he feels you trembling underneath him. With a predatory gleam in his eyes, he bites down hard on your shoulder as he keeps thrusting harder into your cunt in a primal rhythm, eliciting a sharp gasp of pleasure-pain from your lips.

Your body arches into his with every powerful thrust.

“That’s it, baby. Let me mark you up while I fuck you hard and deep against the wall.” He growls out as he continues to pound into you, his cock slamming inside you with each powerful thrust and his teeth nibbling away on your soft skin.

The sensation is electrifying, sending a surge of arousal coursing through your veins every time he marks you with his teeth. His grip tightens on your skin, holding you in place as he savours the taste of you, his lips lingering on the spot where his teeth sank into your flesh.

It’s a moment of exquisite intensity, the sharp bite of pain mingling with the heady rush of pleasure as he claims you as his own.

“You like that, baby?” He growls, his voice heavy with lust.

The sound of his voice sends shivers down your spine, igniting a fiery passion deep within you. It’s a question laden with desire, a testament to the intensity of the moment as he waits for your response.

With a ragged breath, you nod and whimper in response, unable to form words as pleasure courses through your veins. His growl reverberates through you, filling you with a heady mix of anticipation and arousal as you surrender yourself completely to the heat of the moment.

He continues to pound into you, his cock slamming against your cervix with each thrust, almost hard enough to make you wince.

His teeth dig deeper into your shoulder as he loses himself in the sensation of claiming you. “Fuck... I’m gonna cum…”

His words send a jolt of anticipation coursing through you, heightening the intensity of the moment. With each ragged breath, the tension between you builds, reaching a fever pitch as you both hurtle towards the brink of ecstasy.

Feeling his grip tighten on your skin, you can sense his impending release, the urgency in his movements driving you both towards the edge.

“Not inside, please,” you plead, locking eyes with him, your voice trembling as you feel his cock pistoning in and out of you, scrapping that one spot that makes you see stars.

But he doesn’t waver, his gaze unwavering as he continues with his relentless pace. The intensity of his desire overwhelms any sense of restraint, his need for release consuming him entirely. You can only take it helplessly as his movements grow more frenzied, driving you both towards the edge of ecstasy.

Josh moves his hand down to rub your clit even harder, desperate to make you cum with him.

“Cum for me, baby…” he commands, his voice thick with desire and authority.

His words send a shiver of anticipation down your spine, igniting a fiery passion deep within you. Despite any reservations or fears, you find yourself unable to resist his command, surrendering yourself completely to his will. With each thrust and caress, he pushes you closer and closer to the brink, his commanding presence fueling the flames of your desire.

And then, with a primal cry of pleasure, you finally succumb to his command, your body convulsing with ecstasy as waves of pleasure wash over you.

“Fuck...” Josh groans, his voice heavy with desire and satisfaction as he feels you orgasm around him.

His hips buck wildly against yours, driving his cock deep inside you one last time before he tips over the edge as well, letting out a long, low groan.

Hot cum fills your cunt, his body shuddering with release. You feel his muscles tensing as he thrusts a few more times, milking himself into your pussy, making sure he’s completely spent.

As you slowly come down from the heights of ecstasy, a wave of realisation washes over you. With a sinking feeling in the pit of your stomach, you become acutely aware of the warmth spreading within you.

Josh’s breathing is ragged, his chest rising and falling with the rhythm of his exertion. As he gazes down at you, his eyes are a tumultuous storm of emotions, a swirling mix of lust, tenderness and something dark that leaves you breathless.

In the dim light of the room, his features are cast in shadows, adding an air of mystery to his already intense gaze. You can see the raw desire burning within him, a primal hunger that seems to consume him entirely. But beneath the heat of his lust, there’s also a flicker of something softer, something more vulnerable and intimate.

It’s a paradoxical combination that leaves you utterly captivated, unable to tear your eyes away from his intense stare.

“I want to spend all night inside you,” he growls, his voice low.

His words send a shiver down your spine, igniting a fierce craving deep within you.

As you gaze up at him, his gaze is smouldering with raw passion, his eyes dark and intense as they lock onto yours. There’s a hunger in his stare, a need that threatens to consume you both entirely - he’s acting as if possessed.

You can feel your pulse quicken at his words, your body responding instinctively to his commanding presence.

Josh pulls back from you, creating a small distance between your bodies. As he does, you feel a wave of exhaustion wash over you, causing you to slump against the wall for support. The intensity of the moment begins to fade, leaving you feeling drained and spent. Your muscles ache with exertion, and every breath feels heavy as you try to catch your breath.

You feel his cock softening inside you and finally slipping out of your well-fucked cunt.

In the back of your mind, you register the sensation of his cum dripping from you, coating your thighs, pooling at your feet and staining the floor beneath you.

You sense Josh’s gaze lingering on your pussy as well as the mess on the floor. As you glance up, you catch a glimpse of his darkening gaze, a flicker of desire reigniting within him.

“Oh, don’t worry, we’re not done here,” he growls out, his voice dripping with desire as he leans down to capture your lips in a bruising kiss. His free hand slides down to cup your ass, pulling you closer to him as he deepens the kiss with a hunger that leaves you breathless.

At that moment, time seems to stand still as you’re consumed by the intensity of his touch, the heat of his body pressed against yours as his lips move hungrily against yours.

As he breaks the kiss, his eyes smouldering with desire, he whispers, “We’ve got all night,” his words sending a shiver down your spine.

Your breath catches in your throat as you notice the change in Josh’s demeanour, a sinking feeling of exhaustion settling deep within you. But as you struggle to regain your composure, you realise that he doesn’t care. With a forceful grip, he pulls you roughly from the wall and into the bedroom, heedless of the fatigue that weighs heavily on your shoulders.

As you stumble along in his wake, you feel the exhaustion gnawing at your insides, a relentless ache that threatens to overwhelm you. Each step feels like a Herculean effort, your limbs heavy with fatigue as you struggle to keep pace with Josh’s determined stride.

Despite the weariness that courses through your body, you can’t help but feel a flicker of anticipation at the prospect of what awaits you in the bedroom. The thought of surrendering to the raw passion that simmers between you and Josh ignites a spark of desire within you, momentarily overshadowing the fatigue that threatens to drag you down.

But as you continue to move forward, you can’t ignore the sensation of moisture trickling down your thighs, a silent reminder of what happened with Josh just moments ago. It’s a stark contrast to the exhaustion that weighs heavily on your shoulders, a potent reminder of the conflicting emotions swirling within you.

In the dim light of the bedroom, you catch a glimpse of Josh’s intense gaze, his eyes ablaze with desire.

He closes the door behind him, the click echoing in the silent room, his towering figure casting a shadow over you as he stands before you with an intensity that leaves you breathless. His massive body looms over yours, his presence dominating the space as he stares down at you with fiery eyes that seem to pierce through your very soul.

“I can’t get enough of you, baby,” he growls, his voice thick with emotion and raw desire. The words hang heavy in the air, charged with an urgency that sends a shiver down your spine. You can feel the heat radiating off him, his proximity igniting a fire within you.

Despite the exhaustion that still lingers in the depths of your being, you find yourself drawn to him like a moth to a flame, unable to resist the magnetic pull of his presence. His words wash over you like a tidal wave, stirring something primal and untamed deep within you.

As you meet his gaze, you can see the hunger burning in his eyes, a hunger that mirrors your own as you stand on the precipice of desire, teetering on the edge of something wild and unrestrained.

With a forceful motion, he throws you onto the bed, the impact sending a jolt of electricity coursing through your body. You land with a soft thud, the mattress yielding beneath your weight as you find yourself sprawled out before him.

As you try to catch your breath, you feel his hand wrap around your throat, the pressure firm yet strangely gentle, sending a thrill of anticipation racing down your spine. His touch is possessive, a silent declaration of ownership that sends a shiver of excitement coursing through your veins.

“You belong to me now,” he whispers, his voice a low rumble that sends a shiver down your spine. His words hang in the air, heavy with promise and desire, as he asserts his dominance over you.

With deliberate movements, he climbs onto the bed, positioning himself between your legs as he gazes down at you with a hunger that leaves you breathless. His eyes are dark pools of desire, burning with an intensity that threatens to consume you whole.

As he hovers over you, his hand firm against your throat, a faint perfume wafts through the air, tickling your senses with its familiar scent. In the dim light of the room, you recognise it instantly - Renais, his wife’s signature fragrance. The realisation sends a chill down your spine, mingling with the heat of desire that still courses through your veins.

Suddenly, you feel the weight of his wedding band pressing against your throat, a cold reminder of the reality of the situation. It’s a stark contrast to the fiery passion that burns between you, a sobering reminder of the boundaries that exist in this forbidden tryst.

In the depths of your mind, a voice whispers warnings of the consequences that loom on the horizon, a reminder of the tangled web of deceit and desire that threatens to ensnare you both. But in the heat of the moment, those warnings fall on deaf ears, drowned out by the primal urge that drives you forward.

As he leans in closer, his breath hot against your skin, you can’t help but feel a twinge of guilt gnawing at your conscience. But it’s quickly drowned out by the overwhelming need that pulses through your veins, urging you to surrender yourself completely to the intoxicating allure of forbidden desire.

His lips crash against yours with an urgency that leaves you breathless, his kiss rough and demanding, a declaration of his desire. At that moment, all thoughts of guilt and consequence vanish, replaced by the searing heat of his touch and the intoxicating taste of his lips.

You respond eagerly, yielding to the fervent intensity of his kiss, your fingers tangling in his hair as you pull him closer, desperate for more. The world fades away around you, consumed by the fiery passion that ignites between you, leaving only the two of you locked in a passionate embrace.

With each brush of his lips against yours, you feel yourself falling deeper under his spell, lost in the heady whirlwind of desire that threatens to consume you whole.

Feeling the weight of his body pressing down on you, a sudden awareness strikes you like a bolt of lightning - he’s fully clothed while you remain bare and exposed, a stark contrast that sends a shiver down your spine. The only thing that’s uncovered is his soft cock that you feel against your thigh.

In a desperate bid to bridge the gap between you, to regain some sense of equilibrium in this uneven playing field, you reach for the fabric of his shirt. Your fingers tremble as you fumble with the buttons, your movements fueled by a mix of urgency and desire. With each button you undo, the tension in the room ratchets up another notch, the air crackling with anticipation.

As the fabric falls away, revealing the contours of his chest and the sinewy muscles that ripple beneath his skin, you’re struck by just how good he looks. With trembling hands, you push the shirt down his arms.

His physique is a sight to behold, a perfect mix of strength and grace that leaves you breathless. His arms are defined and powerful, the muscles flexing beneath the surface as he moves. And his chest, adorned with a light dusting of chest hair, rises and falls with each ragged breath, a testament to the intensity of the moment.

In the dim light of the room, his features are cast in shadow, adding an air of mystery to his already alluring presence. But despite the darkness that surrounds him, there’s no mistaking the hunger in his eyes, the maddening desire that burns within him.

“Get me hard again,” he tells you, his voice a low growl that sends a shiver down your spine. “Be my good girl, yes?”

His words ignite a surge of arousal within you, coursing through your veins like wildfire as you realise the power of his praise.

In that moment, you realise just how much you crave his approval, how much you long to please him in every way possible. And as his words sink in, you feel a newfound sense of purpose wash over you, driving you to fulfil his every desire with a fervor you never knew you possessed. With a sense of determination, you set out to do just as he commands, eager to prove yourself as his obedient and eager girl.

He lays himself down on his back, a picture of casual confidence, and crosses his arms behind his head. His gaze meets yours, an eyebrow raised in silent expectation as if to say, go on, do it.

You lower yourself onto your knees, positioning yourself exactly where he wants you, his soft cock just in front of you, glistening and coated in both your releases.

Even soft, you notice that he is quite big, with a vein on the underside of it and embedded in a well-groomed nest of dark hair.

His gaze remains fixed on yours, a silent invitation urging you to continue. And as you lean in closer, the air crackles with electricity, charged with the promise of what’s to come.

“That’s right, take my cock into your mouth,” his voice commands, resonating with authority as he reaches out to guide his dick with his big hands, holding it steady for you to take.

His directive sends a shiver down your spine, and with a sense of obedience, you lean forward, your lips parting to welcome him eagerly. As your mouth envelops him, your lips slowly stretch around the head of his cock, your tongue swirling around the slit.

You feel a surge of satisfaction knowing that you’re fulfilling his wishes. He is heavy and hot against your tongue as you taste the combination of yourself and him on it.

He grins wickedly as he watches his cock harden in your mouth. The sight of you submitting to him ignites a fire within him.

His hands guide you, steady and firm, as you take him deeper, savouring the taste and texture of him. Each movement is deliberate, calculated to bring him the utmost pleasure. And as you follow his lead, you feel a sense of empowerment wash over you, knowing that you have the power to drive him wild with desire.

A whimper escapes you as he presses his cock deeper into your mouth, eliciting a gag that you struggle to suppress. The sensation is overwhelming, the pressure building as you try to accommodate him. Despite your efforts, you can’t help but gag more.

His grip tightens on your head, his hands exerting control as he guides you through each movement. His eyes darken at the sight of you struggling to take him deep into your throat, causing him to swell even more within you.

“That’s my little slut, taking me without any trouble,” he growls out, his voice dripping with a mix of pride and lust as he watches you struggle with his girth in your mouth.

His words send a shiver down your spine, a heady mixture of shame and arousal coursing through your veins. Despite the discomfort, there’s a perverse sense of satisfaction in being called his slut, a twisted validation of your submission to him.

Each gag is met with a grunt of approval from him, his grip tightening on your head as he revels in your obedience. You feel tears welling up in your eyes as he hits your uvula, causing you to pull back slightly in discomfort.

“Don’t be a bad girl,” he reprimands, his voice firm as he reaches down to pull your hair roughly, forcing you to take more of his cock.

His grip is relentless, his fingers tangled in your hair as he exerts control over you. Despite the tears streaming down your face, you can’t help but obey, the fear of his reprimand driving you to comply with his demands.

You choke back a sob as he pushes deeper into your mouth, the sensation overwhelming as he fills you completely. Each movement is met with a sharp tug on your hair, a reminder of who is in control.

As you struggle to suppress your gag reflex, you feel a sense of helplessness wash over you, a realisation that you are completely at his mercy.

“That’s it, take it like the dirty little slut you are,” he growls out, his voice thick with desire as he starts to thrust his hips forward, fucking your mouth roughly. Each movement drives his cock deeper into your mouth, hitting the back of your throat with each forceful thrust, making you gag even more.

The sensation is overwhelming, the pressure building in your chest as you struggle to accommodate him.

You use the flat of your hands to push down on his hip, desperately trying to create some distance between you and him as spots start to dance in the corners of your eyes.

“I thought you were my good girl?” Josh chuckles, his voice laced with amusement as he easily overpowers your feeble attempts to resist. With a swift motion, he pins your wrists above your head with one hand, the other still tightly gripping your hair. Despite your struggles, his cock continues to push further into your throat with every thrust, leaving you gasping for air and completely at his mercy.

The pressure on your wrists is almost unbearable, the sensation of being held down fueling your sense of helplessness. You can feel his control tightening around you, his dominance asserting itself in every forceful movement.

As you struggle against his grip, the realisation sinks in that you’re completely powerless to stop him. All you can do is submit to his will, surrendering yourself to the pleasure and pain of his relentless possession.

“That’s it,” Josh groans out, his voice thick with desire as he notices your surrender. With renewed determination, he continues to thrust his hips forward, driving his thick shaft deeper into your throat with each powerful stroke.

The sensation is overwhelming, the relentless pressure pushing you to your limits as you struggle to accommodate him. Each thrust sends shockwaves of pleasure and pain coursing through your body, blurring the lines between ecstasy and agony.

But despite the discomfort, there’s a perverse sense of satisfaction in knowing that you’re fulfilling his desires, that you’re giving yourself over completely to his dominance. And as he continues to push deeper and deeper, you find yourself lost in the intoxicating whirlwind of submission, unable to resist the overwhelming pleasure that consumes you.

“Fuck, you’re so tight,” Josh growls out as he bottoms out, his cock hitting the back of your throat, eliciting a muffled moan from you. With a soft pop, he withdraws slightly before thrusting harder and faster, taking advantage of the tightness of your mouth around his girth.

Each powerful thrust sends waves of pleasure coursing through you, igniting a fire of desire that burns hotter with each passing moment. You’re completely at his mercy, completely consumed by the raw intensity of the moment.

Despite the discomfort and the overwhelming sensation of being filled to the brim, there’s an undeniable thrill in surrendering to his primal urges, in giving yourself over completely to his dominance.

“That’s enough,” he growls out, finally pulling out of your throat. You cough and splutter, your throat raw from the rough treatment he’s given you, tears streaming down your cheeks.

As you catch your breath, you glance over at him, sprawled out on the bed with an air of satisfaction. His eyes, dark and intense, meet yours, and a mischievous smirk plays at the corners of his lips. Beads of sweat dot his forehead and chest, accentuating the contours of his toned physique.

Despite the rough treatment you’ve endured, there’s an undeniable allure to his presence as he lies there, completely in control. His dominance hangs heavy in the air, drawing you in like a moth to a flame. You find yourself unable to look away, captivated by the raw power he exudes.

With each breath he takes, you feel a surge of desire course through you, mingling with the lingering traces of fear. It’s a heady mix of emotions, one that leaves you both exhilarated and apprehensive.

“Now that was a fucking good blowjob, you little slut,” Josh smirks at you, his voice heavy with satisfaction as his cock stands proudly and leaks pre-cum. He tugs on your hair again, gently but firmly, pulling your face up to meet his gaze.

You meet his gaze, your eyes locking with his, and you can see the hunger burning behind his darkened irises. It’s a look that sends a thrill of anticipation through you, knowing that he’s not finished with you yet.

With a soft whimper, you lean into his touch, surrendering yourself to his control once more.��

“You’re going to love this, baby,” he growls, his voice low and threatening. Before you can react, he kisses you roughly, his lips possessing yours with an intensity that leaves you breathless. With a swift motion, he flips you over, pinning you beneath him as he settles on top.

His weight presses you into the mattress, sending a thrill of anticipation coursing through your veins. Despite the forcefulness of his actions, there’s an undeniable heat in his touch that ignites a fire within you. You can feel the strength of his body against yours, his muscles tense with desire as he holds you captive beneath him.

As he leans down to capture your lips again, you can’t help but lose yourself in the heat of the moment, surrendering to the passion that consumes you both.

With a firm grip, he pins your wrists above your head, holding them in place with one hand while using the other to spread your legs wide open.

Your eyes widen as he reaches for something on the nightstand, and you feel a surge of apprehension when you see that it’s rope. Your heart races with a mixture of excitement and fear as you realise what he intends to do with it.

He smirks at your reaction, a predatory gleam in his eyes as he holds up the coil of rope, letting it dangle tantalisingly between his fingers. With deliberate slowness, he begins to unravel it, the length of the rope glinting in the dim light of the bedroom.

Josh’s grin widens into a wicked smirk as he deftly ties your wrists and ankles to the bedposts, securing the ropes with practised precision. Each knot is firm, leaving you completely immobilised and at his mercy.

You can feel your heart pounding in your chest as you lie there, bound and helpless, the sensation of vulnerability sending shivers down your spine. But beneath the fear, there’s an undeniable thrill coursing through your veins, the anticipation of what’s to come heightening your arousal.

As Josh steps back to admire his handiwork, you can’t help but feel a rush of excitement mixed with a hint of trepidation.

He then moves between your legs again and parts your already fucked pussy with his two hands, revealing how wet you are. You feel the cold air on your heated cunt and buck your hips involuntarily while simultaneously clenching your pussy, feeling more of his cum drip out onto the sheets.

Exposed and vulnerable, you can’t shake the feeling of self-consciousness that washes over you as you lie there, bound and completely open before Josh and you squirm.

Josh’s eyes narrow as he observes your futile attempts to escape his gaze as he drinks in the sight before him.

As he leans in closer, his breath hot against your skin, you can feel the raw intensity of his desire coursing through you, sending shivers down your spine.

Your breath catches in your throat as you watch Josh raise his hand, anticipation coursing through your veins like electricity. With a sharp intake of breath, you brace yourself for the impact, knowing that the sting of his touch will send waves of pleasure coursing through your body.

When his hand finally makes contact with your bare cunt, the sensation is both exhilarating and intense. A sharp gasp escapes your lips as the force of his touch leaves a red print behind, the sting mingling with the throbbing heat that radiates from the point of impact.

Despite the initial shock, you find yourself craving more, your body responding instinctively to the delicious mixture of pain and pleasure that Josh’s touch elicits.

Josh’s chuckle reverberates in the room, a sound that sends a shiver down your spine as you feel a flush of embarrassment wash over you. Yet, despite the heat rising in your cheeks, there’s also a sense of exhilaration coursing through your veins, a thrill at being so completely under his control.

As Josh continues to deliver alternating slaps to your pussy, thighs and lower belly, the sensations become increasingly overwhelming, each impact sending a jolt of pleasure shooting through your body. Your mind becomes foggy, consumed by the raw intensity of the moment as you surrender yourself to the exquisite torment of his touch.

With each stroke of his hand, the line between pain and pleasure blurs, the sensations merging into a symphony of ecstasy that leaves you gasping for breath. And as Josh teases your clit with his thumb, you find yourself completely lost in the moment, unable to think of anything but the overwhelming desire that courses through your veins.

His other hand grips the base of his cock, stroking it in rhythm with each slap.

“That’s it, baby,” he growls, his voice low and threatening. With each spank, he increases the force, leaving angry red marks blossoming across your thighs, cunt and lower belly. The sting intensifies with each strike, sending waves of sensation rippling through your body.

You struggle against the ropes, your body straining against the bonds as you watch Josh’s lips curl into a predatory smile. His eyes gleam with desire as he observes your futile attempts to free yourself from the tight restraints that bind you.

With a final hard slap to your skin, leaving a particularly angry red mark in its wake, Josh withdraws his hand, the sound echoing in the room. He moves between your spread legs, his presence looming over you like a dark shadow and his cock twitching in anticipation.

“Say my name when you come,” he growls, his voice low and rough, sending shivers down your spine. The command hangs in the air, heavy with anticipation, as you feel a surge of arousal coursing through your veins at his words.

Almost instinctively, you arch your back and buck your hips against him, a desperate attempt to feel more of him, to draw him closer. The movement elicits a deep groan from Josh as he positions the head of his cock at the entrance to your wet pussy and thrusts forward powerfully, burying himself to the hilt in one swift motion, eliciting an obscenely loud squelching noise.

“Fuck.”

As the sensations overwhelm you, your body responds instinctively, and you’re sent hurtling over the edge of ecstasy. It hits you so unexpectedly and intensely that, for a brief moment, it feels like everything else fades away. Your senses are consumed by the overwhelming pleasure coursing through your veins, and you feel like you’re on the brink of blacking out.

Through the haze of pleasure, you hear Josh’s voice, husky and commanding, urging you to say his name. It’s a demand that sends a shiver down your spine, intensifying the sensations pulsing through your body. You feel his grip on your hips tighten as he thrusts into you with unrestrained passion, driving you further into the depths of bliss. Every movement, every touch, sends waves of pleasure crashing over you, leaving you breathless and trembling in ecstasy.

He continues to pound into you, fucking you through your intense orgasm that feels neverending.

“You’re mine now,” Josh’s hands grip your hips tightly, leaving more red handprints as he continues to fuck you with a brutal intensity, his fingers digging into your skin as if to brand you as his own.

As his teeth graze your neck and shoulder, leaving behind a trail of painful but exhilarating marks once more, a rush of sensation courses through you, blending pleasure with a hint of pain. Yet, strangely, it only serves to heighten your pleasure, drawing you deeper into his spell.

You can feel the heat of his body against yours, his breath hot against your skin as he claims you with an almost primal ferocity.

At this moment, there is no room for hesitation or restraint. You surrender to the relentless onslaught of sensations, giving yourself over completely to the overwhelming pleasure coursing through your veins. Every movement, every touch, sends electric jolts of ecstasy racing through your body, igniting a firestorm of desire that threatens to consume you whole.

As Josh continues to possess you with a brutal intensity, his dominance over you becomes undeniable.

“That’s it, baby. Scream my name,” he growls, his cock throbbing and his voice thick with desire as he feels you approaching another orgasm.

With each thrust, he drives deeper into you, his movements becoming more urgent and forceful as he seeks to send you spiralling into ecstasy once more.

Your body quivers with anticipation as Josh’s words drive you to the brink of ecstasy. With each powerful thrust, you feel yourself teetering on the edge of release, your senses overwhelmed by the intensity of the pleasure coursing through you. You can feel every movement, every sensation magnified as Josh’s relentless assault pushes you closer and closer to the edge.

“Yes...Come for me,” he groans, his voice heavy with lust as he feels your walls tightening around him, signalling your impending climax. With each thrust, he drives deeper into you, the urgency in his movements matching the intensity of your pleasure.

As you approach the peak of your pleasure, your mind becomes consumed by a single thought: Josh. His name echoes in your mind like a mantra, driving you further into the depths of ecstasy. And as you feel the wave of orgasmic bliss wash over you once again, you can’t help but obey his command, your voice rising in a primal scream of pleasure.

“Yes, yes,” he chants, his voice a husky whisper as he feels you come apart around him, your body trembling beneath him. The sight of your ecstasy only fuels his own, pushing him further into the depths of euphoria.

You know he’s close, and you struggle against the bindings again when you realise he will come inside you again. “No, Josh, not again,” you plead, the urgency evident in your voice as you try to convey your concern.

Despite your protests, Josh’s dark chuckle sends shivers down your spine, his tone filled with determination and dominance. “Oh yes, and you’ll take it again,” he promises, his thrusts growing more forceful as he edges closer to his climax, "Don't pretend that you don't like it - that you don't crave to feel my cum deep inside you."

As you whimper and moan, Josh only seems to grow more determined. Roughly, his thumb finds you clit again, rubbing hard and fast circles.

He pushes you into another small orgasm, eliciting a mixture of pleasure and discomfort from you. He grunts in response, feeling your walls convulsing around him. His thrusts grow even more powerful as he pushes you over the edge once again.

“Fuck... yes...,” he groans, “You’re mine tonight.” He continues to pound into you, leaving more bruises and bite marks on your body as he takes ownership of you.

”I’m not going to stop until I fill you up,” he snarls, his thrusts becoming more erratic and powerful. He can feel his climax building once again, ready to claim you completely, "Fuck, you're gonna be so full it spills out of you."

Despite your struggles against the ropes, you find yourself helpless, unable to escape his relentless advance. Moans and whimpers escape your lips as you feel the inevitable approach of his next release, your body trembling with a mix of anticipation and fear.

“That’s it, baby. Take my cum,” he growls, his hips bucking wildly as he releases inside you. You feel the warm rush of his cum filling you, marking you as his own as your mind becomes blissfully quiet.

He continues to thrust deeply until every last drop is buried deep within your cunt, claiming you completely and marking you as his own, before finally pulling out with a wet, satisfying sound. His eyes are dark and predatory as he looks down at you, catching his breath.

“You’re such a slut.” He mutters, his eyes fixed on your dripping pussy. His fingers trail down your skin, tracing the path of his cum as it drips from your twitching and gaping pussy.

“I bet you’re going to be so sore tomorrow,” he whispers, a wicked grin spreading across his lips.

With a final lingering glance, Josh leans in close, his breath hot against your ear. “You’re mine now,” he whispers, his voice laced with possessiveness.

As Josh’s lips graze the shell of your ear, a shiver runs down your spine, sending goosebumps rippling across your skin. His touch, once dominating and rough, now feels surprisingly gentle against your sensitive flesh as he runs his fingers over the countless red and purple marks he’s left on your skin.

With a sense of relief, you feel the ropes around your wrists and ankles loosen, allowing you to move freely once again. As Josh unties you, you can’t help but feel a mix of emotions swirling inside you - a potent blend of desire, confusion, and a lingering sense of vulnerability.

As the last knot comes undone, you find yourself looking up at Josh, searching his eyes for any trace of the intensity that had consumed him moments before. But all you see is a softness, a hint of tenderness that belies the roughness of his previous actions. Almost unwillingly, you yawn, the bone-deep exhaustion now evident that you're able to come down.

“Sleep now, baby,” he murmurs, his voice tender. “We’ll talk about it in the morning.”

With those words, he wraps his arms around you, pulling you close in a comforting embrace as you start to sink into a deep sleep, overwhelmed by the situation and thoroughly fucked out.

#patrick wilson #patrick wilson x reader #patrick wilson smut #the conjuring #ed warren #insidious #fanfiction #josh lambert #insidious smut #josh lambert x reader #josh lambert smut #orm marius #aquaman #insidious fanfiction #insidious the red door #aquaman the lost kingdom #aquaman and the lost kingdom #possessed josh lambert #insidious chapter 2

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poisonheiress · 10 months

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Vivziepop's ability to decay any women and fem-aligned characters she creates has always haunted Helluva Boss, and as a result, limits them to being one dimensional characters that fall into a "with them or against them" mentality when it comes to her male characters; they only exists to prop up other (male) characters or to serve as morally bankrupt villains.

From Verosika to Stella to Loona and Millie, this trend is clear from the beginning of the show and likely will follow it to the end. However, for this post I will discuss the recent victims of this trend: the lovely Glitz and Glam.

To be honest, I adore Glitz and Glam (to the point of writing fan fiction for them) and they have become my favorite characters in the entire show so this discussion will show some bias towards them. While some may say its too early for this call as they will be seen again, but from what I've seen on twitter from fans and even creators of their song alike, I do not have the hope this will occur.

From the beginning, Glitz and Glam are looked down on for their desire to win and for doing anything they can to get that position. When confronted with Fizz's kind words of support, they look down on him and further emphasize how they are going to win against him even gaining the title of "snatches" and "sluts" by Blitzo. From this moment forward, its clear the narrative doesn't want us to look kindly upon the sisters. After all, they are being "bitches" to Fizzarolli and competing against him in a manner that pushes him further and further into a breakdown. The fact that Fizz's relationship with Mammon and self esteem issues are not their fault is shown as irrelevant to both the audience and their creators.

This isn't made better by their song writers' commentary on twitter on how the glam sisters are perverting the true nature of clowning and that their song shows how they are simply wanting to get Mammon's attention by feeding into the financial and sexual exploitation (even saying that they want this to happen). This commentary solidifies the idea that they are not someone we should root for especially since they are allying themselves with Mammon, a horrific, abusive asshole.

While I expect this level of dismissal and honestly misogynistic writing from Helluva boss, I can't help but be extremely agitated by it and the reason why was made clear recently: the narrative acts as if the Glam sisters are doing this for out of selfish desire alone, as if they are terrorizing Fizz for no good reason. But that's simply not true, and even Vivzie's canon supports me here.

The Glam sisters are hellborn demons, only one rank higher than the imps. This means that while they may be treated better, they still are not treated as full citizens like sinners are, and in a dog eat dog world like Hell, kindness is not something they can afford.

Getting this position with Mammon is a life changing deal, something Fizz is proof of. Yes, it is as exploitative as it is lucrative for the individual, but this is Hell (as Vivzie likes to claim) and opportunities like this are something many would die and kill for.

So at the end of the day, I cannot help but be confused why the narrative punishes and looks down on Glitz and Glam for taking some crumb of control back from the system and accepting their objectification with open arms as long as they are rightly compensated for it. Why does even their (albeit catchy) song look down on them for doing whatever it takes to survive in Hell? After all, they would be exploited anyway, right? It's what Hell lives on.

In a class system like Vivzie claims to have, the glam sisters are a prime example of the kind of oppressed vs oppressed the system creates, but instead of trying to understand them or even see them as morally complex, they are simply the slutty female antagonists who are corrupting the sanctity of hell clowns simply because they don't clown for the sake of clowning. Whatever complexity they could have, even if it is beneficial to the entirety of the show, is worthless compared to their narrative propping for Vivzie's favored characters. But it doesn't surprise me. After all, what else is a women is Helluva Boss good for if not to support the main male cast.

#helluva boss critical #helluva boss criticism #helluva boss glitz and glam #If there are no Glitz and Glam defenders left then I am dead #please ask me about my glitz and glam things #i will even write an x reader #I will write so many things just ask please #helluva boss season 2 #helluva boss #vivziepop criticism #vivziepop critical #fizzarolli

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lillyponders · 2 months

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Call for beta-readers

I have finally completed my novel, and need beta-readers to evaluate it before I go on to query literary agents. I cannot financially compensate readers beyond token amounts, but I am willing to return the favour by reading and giving detailed feedback on your own manuscripts (so long as they are not significantly lengthier than my own).

If you are interested, please say so in the replies. Then I will DM you a list of things I would like you to pay attention to during your reading, and provide me with feedback on those points. I would like the interested readers to complete the reading in a month.

Brief info about the novel:

Length: 126k words

Genre: gothic mystery-romance, historical, LGBT

Inspirations and comparative titles: Emily Bronte's Wuthering Heights (1847), Joseph Sheridan Le Fanu's Carmilla (1871-72), Sarah Waters' Affinity (1999), Guillermo del Toro's Crimson Peak (2015), Mexican Gothic (2020) by Sylvia Moreno Garcia, Bitterthorn (2023) by Kat Dunn, The Knowing (2024) by Emma Hinds.

Adult-grade, contains depictions of physical and sexual violence, and an explicit sex-scene

Story summary:

In 1872, a young prodigy spirit-medium Agnes Iddins is called to investigate a haunting of a great country house in Derbyshire.

The house, nicknamed 'Shrike's Barrow', had been a site of an extraordinary crime in 1831, when nearly the entire noble family and a few senior servants to boot were brutally murdered in a single night, 13 people in total.

Agnes is hired by the only surviving family member, baronet Sir Ethan Ramshaw, then a young man, and joined by a rationalist sceptic Dr William Trowley, Sir Ethan's distant cousin who is to inherit the estate. Agnes befriends the servants, especially the sardonic female gardener Heather, in an effort to uncover the circumstance leading up to the massacre.

When she contacts the spirit of one of the victims, her investigation takes an unexpected turn. Can Agnes solve the mystery and banish the evil spirit, or will she succumb to the darkness of Barrow?

#writing #original fiction #original story #original character #my writing #beta reader #beta request

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talkfastlibrary · 1 year

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Choices--Jake Seresin (An Arrangement Series)

An Arrangement Masterlist

Follow here for all updates as I do not have a taglist

word count: 4.1k

warnings: small mention of blood, hospital, angst

Feedback, asks, comments/reblogs mean the world to me!

Enjoy!

“Move in with me.”

The wine sloshes down your chin and onto the black tabletop. You stare at him unblinking while he stares back completely relaxed. Your mouth is opening and closing truly at a loss for words.

“You, you, you–” is all you can splutter out when your phone starts to ring.

You fumble it out of your purse and see it’s the hospital. Your heart stops.

“Who is it?” Jake leans forward.

“The hospital,” you murmur, concentrating on the vibration in your hand.

“Do you want me to answer it?”

You shake your head, take a deep breath and answer it. “Hello?’

“Hi y/n we found blood in Betty’s urine and her hemoglobin levels are low.”

“Okay, so what does that mean?”

“We’re going to try and find the source by doing a procedure in her bladder in an emergency surgery–”

“I’m on my way. Thank you.”

“What’s happened?” Jake asks, concern etched on his face..

“They found more blood…she needs surgery. I have to…I have to go.”

“Let’s go,” he nods, then tosses some bills on the table.

“What?”

“Clearly I’m taking you, how else would you get there?” He stands up from his chair pocketing his wallet.

“Reynolds?”

“No, I’m taking you,” he holds out his hand, “Come on, Sugar.”

As soon as your hand slips in his he pulls you from your chair and out the door. He opens the passenger side of his truck, practically swings you inside and jogs to his side of the vehicle.

“Buckled?” he asks and you fumble with the seatbelt. Once he’s satisfied you’re secure, he peels out of the lot then gets onto the highway.

You’re about to tell him which way to go but he takes the proper exit and turns perfectly, then you remember he paid for her stay so he must know where the hospital is. That realization spurs another thought, how much does he actually know about you?

No, you can’t think about that now. You have to focus on your grandma, but even as you stare out the window at passing houses, you can’t help but replay his request of moving in with him.

When you arrive at the hospital he follows you to your grandma’s room and she’s fast asleep while nurses check her monitors. They let you know her surgery will be in an hour, the doctor is on his way. As they leave, your grandma stirs awake and you’re quick to sit by her side taking her hand.

“Hi Grandma. You’re going to be taken in for surgery pretty soon, they found blood in your urine again,” you remind her gently. “How’s your pain?”

“Okay,” she responds softly then notices Jake behind you. “Are you the doctor?”

“No, ma’am,” he smiles, approaching the other side of her bed.

“This is Jake, he’s…helping me.”

“At the flower shop?”

“Yes,” you agree. That seems the easiest way. No way were you going to try and explain the arrangement proposal to her in this state.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, ma’am,” Jake continues to smile using his Southern charm. “I’ll be waiting here with your granddaughter until you’re all better.”

“He’s mighty handsome, Dolly,” she tells you using the nickname she’s used since you were born.

Your cheeks warm and you don’t dare look at Jake, but you can probably guess he’s looking pretty smug right now. She goes in and out of sleep until it’s time for the surgery to start. You kiss her soft cheek telling her you’ll see her as soon as she’s out.

Then it’s you and Jake alone.

“Thanks for bringing me here, you can go home now.”

“And how will you get home?”

“I’ll call Reynolds.”

“No, I’ll stay.”

“Why?”

“I’m not leaving you here by yourself, Sugar.”

“You don’t have to stay–”

“When are you going to realize I’m here for you no matter what?”

“But why? I haven’t done anything to you to deserve this…treatment of financial compensation.”

“I like your company, that’s all I need. Like tonight, I enjoyed spending time with you and I’m going to continue being that person that takes care of you.”

“No,” you rub at your temples.

“No?”

“No, we are not discussing the parameters of this arrangement right here, right now in the hospital and no one knows why she keeps bleeding or is concerned enough to try and stop it! Just go home, Jake.”

“Nope,” he responds smoothly and removes his suit jacket. He places it on the back of the hospital chair. “I’m staying right here, Sugar.”

“You drive me crazy!” you groan in frustration.

“That’s okay,” he smiles.

“Don’t be so smug. It’s aggravating,” you begin to pace. “I don’t get you. You take me out to nice restaurants, pay for things like my grandma’s medical bills and all for my company? It doesn’t make sense.”

“I thought we weren’t talking about this?” his smile turns to a smirk.

“Ugh!” you throw your hands up in the air and move to the windows watching cars drive by down on the street.

“While we are sort of on the subject anyway…” he moves closer to you, his reflection coming closer in the window and you feel his body heat against your shoulder. “It really is as simple as me wanting to be around you. You make me feel…at ease. Which is something I haven’t felt in a very long time. Don’t be afraid to ask me for help, whether it be money, someone to talk to, a shoulder to cry on…I’m here for you. Whatever you need.”

“I still don’t understand why. Why me? We’ve only known each other for a couple weeks.”

“Yes…” he purses his lips then ducks his head closer to yours. He stares until you turn to look at him. “But I feel like I’ve known you longer.”

“How?”

“You’re a woman full of questions, aren’t you?” he says but it’s not in a way that’s condescending. His tone reflects something of…reverence.

“And you’re a man withholding answers.”

“See?” he chuckles, “that’s why I enjoy your company. You keep me on my toes, you call me out and are always surprising me.”

“Did someone tell you about me or something and said I needed help?”

“Before I answer…we are talking about this, right?”

“Yes,” you sigh with an eye roll, “I suppose we are.”

“You won’t blow up at me?”

“No promises.”

“Fair enough,” he leans on the windowsill with one arm. “Penny told me about you actually. Said you planted the flowers around The Hard Deck and picked up waitressing shifts after you took on the flower shop. She said you’re always so willing to help out anyone who needs it, even if it’s a perfect stranger. She also said you run yourself to burnout almost always.”

You shift uncomfortably.

“That, right there, is also why I want to take care of you. You’re very humble and you don’t do nice things to get noticed or the praise for it, it’s just who you are. But you’re special, Sugar, and I want to be the one who shows you that.”

“But why set up paperwork?”

“That’s more for your benefit than for me, just to show you how serious I am and that I won’t leave you high and dry like some might believe,” he smirks as if he remembers a joke.

“Have you done this with other women before?”

“Yes…” he answers slowly.

Your heart falls at that and you’re not sure why exactly. Of course he’s done this before, a guy as good looking as him has probably had many relationships with women. You must not be that special as he says.

“I know what you’re thinking, but you’re very different from them. They were all too quick to agree and ask me for money but they didn’t reciprocate their end of being my companion. You’re the first one I’ve wanted to have paperwork with and I’m glad you’re giving me pushback. It’s exciting.”

“You’re an interesting man, Jake Seresin. This all still seems too good to be true.”

“What will it take for you to see it’s not?”

“How long will this arrangement last?”

“As long as you want it to.”

You stare into his emerald green eyes waiting for a punchline but his gaze is steady and intense. You’re very aware of how close you are now, while discussing the situation he moved closer and closer to you. Then you noticed you mirrored his stance with your arm resting on the sill too; did you move closer to him without even realizing it?

“Then you’d move onto the next one?”

“No, there’s no moving on from you, Sugar.”

You inhale deeply, there he goes again saying things that leaves your stomach in flips. It only confuses you more, because he seems to really mean them but considering the arrangement…

“Why do you say things like that?”

“Like what?”

“Sweet things. That’s what someone would say to someone they’re interested in.”

“I am interested in you.”

“Isn’t that a…conflict of interest? Considering the situation?”

“Not really,” he shakes his head leaning ever closer. “I’ll never deny my attraction to you. Whether you want me to do something about it is entirely up to you, Sugar. You’re in charge, remember?”

You stare at him a moment longer then step back suddenly remembering where you are. It’s so easy to get caught up in his eyes and his words. You have to be careful.

“I don’t want to talk about this anymore, but thank you for answering some of my questions.”

“You still have to answer mine. About moving in with me.”

“We’ll discuss that one later,” you sit down on the couch.

“I’m open to discussion. Mind if I join you?” he gestures to the spot next to you. You shake your head. He sits down at an appropriate distance from you.

You sit in silence and you have this nagging feeling he was still holding something back. Forty-five minutes went by and a nurse came in and told you they’d found a mass on your grandmother’s bladder and that surgery was going to take longer than they thought.

You thanked them then sat forward with your head in your hands. It’s been a long day. Was it really the same day you went shopping with Jake? It seems like forever ago.

Suddenly, you jump at the touch of Jake’s hand on your back.

“Sorry, I know it’s been a long day. I thought this would help,” he says then starts to rub at your back.

“Just surprised me, that’s all,” you shake your head.

His hand moves up to your neck, his fingers rubbing and squeezing at the tight muscles. You roll your head in certain ways then groan when he’s at a certain spot that feels like heaven.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to,” you apologize awkwardly.

“It’s fine. You know, if you want to sleep for a bit my shoulder is pretty comfy,” he gives you a wink and a smug grin. He pats his shoulder for added effect.

“I’m not sleepy,” you shake your head.

You soon ate your words as the clock on the wall lulled you to sleep with its rhythmic ticking. You shifted on the couch by resting your cheek in the crook of your forearm on the back of the couch, swearing you were only going to rest your eyes.

An alarm from down the hall yanks you out of your soft slumber, you blink your eyes slowly and sigh loudly. Something soft is under your cheek and after such a long day you nestled in closer to the soft object. A nurse must have brought in a pillow for you. Then something cold and sharp-edged poked the back of your head and you flashed your eyes open.

You were completely horizontal on the couch, you turned your head still blinking awake and when you’re staring at the ceiling you see Jake gazing down at you.

“Hey sleepyhead,” he teases softly.

“Huh?” then you gasp because you realize you’re lying on his lap and shoot straight up. Another gasp comes out as you connect with Jake’s chin, a hard clunk from your bones colliding. “Ow!”

“Gah!” he grunts but rests his hand underneath your head holding you above his lap. “I didn’t mean to scare you. You okay?”

“Are you okay?” you ask quickly.

“I’m fine,” he laughs rubbing at his chin, his eyes glancing above you. “Your grandma’s back but she’ll be asleep for a little while longer. Everything went well.”

“Good. Um,” you sit up all the way and situate yourself back into a sitting position with both feet on the floor. “Sorry for falling asleep on you, I didn’t think I was that tired.”

“Not a problem, you’re cute when you sleep. Your nose scrunches and you purse your lips…very kissable.”

“Shush,” you shake your head at him but he’s relentless.

“I know I said my shoulder was comfy, that’s where you started but I guess my lap is the better option, huh?”

“I’m ignoring you,” you mutter, then stand up to get closer to your grandma. At least she’ll have a nice sleep thanks to the anesthesia. You touch her hand giving her a light squeeze before adjusting the blankets around her, she’s always cold.

“I didn’t want to wake you but the nurse said as soon as you woke up, we do have to go since we’re well past visiting hours. I tried to convince her to let us stay but it didn’t work,” Jake says.

“Okay, that’s fine,” you nod. “She knows to call me tomorrow when she’s awake.” You bend down to kiss her cheek. “Night, Grandma. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Ready?” Jake asks, draping his jacket over your shoulders. You nod and let him lead you out of the room, into the hall and in the elevator.

The day has finally caught up with you and you tried as hard as you could to keep your eyes open but as soon as his truck began to move, your eyes closed and you were out.

The next time you open your eyes is when you’re staring into a lavender pillow that is most definitely not yours. Heart hammering in your chest, you lift your head up slowly in case a naked and sleeping Jake is next to you but you’re alone. Rising on your elbows, you take in the room. You’re shocked to see a tree next to you and you think you might still be dreaming.

Turning over you see a nightstand with a plant on it and a Hydro flask with a note tucked underneath it.

Where in the world are you?

Not wanting to leave the comfy confines of the bed and heavy comforter, you slide to the edge of the bed and pull away the note.

‘Here’s some cold water for when you wake up. Don’t be mad, you are at my house but I’m closer to the hospital. I thought that would be best. Take a left and follow the hall all the way down until you see the stairs, you’ll find me in the kitchen. Spare clothes are in the closet, feel free to use them.

See you soon, Sugar,

Jake’

“Of course,” you groan, then grab the bottle of water. As soon as the cold water touches your throat you realize how thirsty you are so you drink and drink until you’re gasping for air.

Your phone is charging on the other side of the plant so you snatch that up as well. Ignoring social media notifications you go to the Messages ones and see a quick text from your grandma. She says she’s fine and will be sleeping on and off. She’ll call you later in the day.

You type a quick reply then remember you were supposed to be at the shop! Another text message is from one of your employees, and good friend, Serena that wrote: ‘some guy named Jake called and let me know about Betty. We’re all good in the shop, babes, call me if you need anything else!’

The whir of a smoothie machine echoes from the cracked door and you decide to get out of bed–but it’s very difficult because the bed is probably the best thing you’ve ever slept in. The closet has double doors and there are tons of clothes on shelves and hangers and drawers. You decide on some soft gray shorts and a thin crewneck.

When you step out you see a bathroom to the left so you head in there. It’s glamorous and spacious of course with a huge claw foot tub in front of a half-circle window. A large shower is in the corner and has one of those waterfall type shower heads.

After using the toilet you see other little notes scattered on the cabinets of the vanity listing off towels, wash clothes, makeup wipes, toothpaste, toothbrushes, combs, hair products, facial cleansers, q-tips.

“Well, guess the Navy really teaches organization,” you mumble, then go to the desired drawers.

You spend a decent amount of time washing your face and brushing your teeth. There’s a very fancy dry shampoo that you’ve only seen on TikTok and Instagram, something you’d never be able to afford and decided to try it out. Your hair looks fabulous of course and you feel very refreshed.

The claw tub stares at you in the mirror and you wander over to it, fingertips skimming the gold faucet handles. It really is deep and you’ve always wanted to take a bath in a claw-foot tub. Maybe you could someday soon.

The gurgle of your stomach prompts you back out to the bedroom and you follow Jake’s instructions, pocketing your phone in the pocket of the hoodie. Along the hall are professionally done photos of fighter jets, and a bunch of family members on the opposite wall until you get to the stairs. The house is massive and the carpet feels like a cloud as you descend the stairs.

Finding the kitchen easily enough, you’re taken aback to see Jake at the stove with a towel over his shoulder. There’s a huge spread on the long island with a pitcher of orange juice and a small vase of pink peonies. Bagels pop up behind Jake and he spins around to grab them then catches your eye.

“Morning Sleeping Beauty,” he smiles, plopping the bagels on a plate. “Glad you found everything okay. I’ve got bagels, pancakes, and some ham and eggs that are just about done. Help yourself.”

“You did all of this?” you step into the kitchen lightly, surprised at how warm the floors are. Of course he’d have heated floors.

“Rhea helped make the muffins, they’re her specialty,” he indicates to a basket of cranberry orange muffins. “But yeah, I love making breakfast.”

“That wasn’t in your paperwork,” you say slyly.

“Gotta leave some things as surprises,” he smirks. “It’s pretty warm out if you want to eat on the patio. Take as much as you want, then I figured we could go to the hospital for a bit before going out?”

“Um, going out?” you’re distracted by the yummy food choices as he prattles on.

“Yeah, there’s an event I help sponsor and donate to on the pier. There’s food, games, and vendors with fun trinkets I thought you might like.”

“That sounds like fun. Could we stop at my place so I can change?”

“Change?” his brows are furrowed as he slides the ham and eggs on another platter. “There’s clothes here you can use.”

“I don’t feel like wearing clothes you’ve bought for other women.”

“Other…no, Sugar, those are all new for you. I’ve donated the others. Everything in that room is new and catered to you.”

You stare at him as he builds his own plate. How much money does he actually have to just buy a bunch of clothes and a whole new bedroom set?

“Do you not like it?” he asks, realizing you’re staring.

“I–that’s all for me?”

“Of course it is, that’s your room if you’ll take me up on my offer.”

Your lips form a thin line as he reminds you of that, the events of last night all rushing back.

“And you think a breakfast spread, a comfy bed and a closet full of clothes will convince me?”

“No, that’s me being generous. Although, I have the best security system and live in a gated community. I’m closer to the hospital, and–” he scoops some grapes onto his plate but pops one in his mouth, eyes on you, “--there’s a great coffeeshop ten minutes out of the subdivision. I’ll be on the patio.”

He leaves you stunned at the counter, your hand still holding one of the cranberry orange muffins. Jake leaves the sliding doors open to the patio so you quickly pile on some more food and pour a glass of orange juice. Some of it sloshes onto the counter but you’re too heated to clean it up and follow him outside.

He’s sitting at a long dining table lined with white wicker chairs. To the left is another seating area with chairs and a couch, all of it is overlooking a pool complete with chaise lounges. Jake is already happily eating his breakfast. Part of you wants to be petty and go sit by the couch but you also don’t want to be rude so you take the seat across from him.

“So, what do you think?” he asks.

“I think you’re crazy.”

“I meant about the food,” he clears his throat.

“Oh, um…” you fork up some ham and eggs. They’re amazing. “Wow, those are good.”

You eat some more but can sense he’s a little stung about your comment.

“I’m sorry, I don’t think you’re crazy. You drive me crazy, that’s for sure, but I shouldn’t have said that anyway. This is all so much at once, I’m trying to wrap my head around it and I just can’t,” you shrug weakly.

“I know it’s a lot. I’m probably coming on a little too strong but it…the look you get when you realize I’m doing all of this for you…” he shakes his head, “it makes me want to keep doing it. I’d give you the world if I could.”

“But why?”

“Why do you always ask that? Did someone tell you you have to do something nice first in order to be treated well in return? That’s not how this works.”

“I’m sorry,” you drop your fork to the plate, pressing your palms to your temples. “It’s…hard for me to accept help and nice things. I’m doing this all wrong, I’m not being appreciative. I don’t deserve all you’re doing for me.”

“y/n look at me,” his voice is tender.

You look at him with your hands over your cheeks, squishing your face together.

“I’m sorry if someone made you think this is how you should be. You don’t owe anyone anything to be treated with respect or for an exchange of help. I can help you with one simple step.”

“What’s that?”

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” your response is automatic. He smiles warmly at you.

“No, Sugar. You say, ‘thank you’ and I say ‘you’re welcome’ and we finish our breakfast and have a nice conversation. Can you do that?”

You remove your hands from your cheeks and take a hearty swallow of orange juice. Mustering up the courage, you fiddle with a little plant decoration on the table, your leg bouncing underneath and then you look at him. He’s waiting patiently.

“Thank you,” you whisper.

“You’re welcome. Should we pick up some flowers for Betty before we go visit?”

“She’d like that,” you smile.

While you finish your breakfast, you think of the choices you have to make. Signing the papers and moving in with him. Would it really be so bad? He said there’s room for your grandma once she’s able to leave, and living in a gated community does seem a lot safer than where you live now with your busted door.

You know you should say yes, you want to say yes, but something inside you is keeping you at bay. When Jake makes eye contact with you as he drinks his coffee, and you get a little lost in his green eyes, you realize that’s what it is. You could easily fall for him but would it really be real?

Feelings definitely aren’t part of the arrangement.

Right?

#an arrangement #an arrangement series #jake hangman seresin #jake seresin #jake seresin fic #jake seresin writing #jake seresin x reader #hangman x reader #jake seresin fluff #jake seresin angst #hangman angst

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bitchesgetriches · 10 months

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So this was commented on a promotional post we did for our sponsor, Acorns:

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But our assistant can't pay her rent with nice messages from followers. And every hour Kitty and I spend working on BGR is an hour we can't spend making money in another way.

Labor deserves compensation. Even ours.

If you don't like the very, VERY occasional ad, then ignore them. Or, buy some of our merch. Or join our Patreon or send us some money on PayPal so we don't have to use sponsors anymore. Or, yes, unfollow. Just know that we're not going to take your feedback to stop "selling" on Tumblr. Because that's not fair to ask of us.

#bitches get riches #I hate asking for money but this hit a nerve #probably should've ignored but I'm tired and hungry and lacking in willpower rn

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wardenparker · 8 months

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Vampire Waltz - ch 17

Max Phillips x female reader Co-written with @absurdthirst

A mysterious inheritance, sprawling mansion, eccentric roommates, friendly bat, and coven of New England witches are the newest chapter of your life after being unceremoniously dumped and kicked out by your boyfriend. For Max, the biggest change in his life is you, and what exactly he's going to do about the fact that he is stuck living with you as long as his sire continues to punish him for that incident at his last office...

Rating: Mature, but this blog is always 18+ Word Count: 9.1k Warnings: *Blanket warnings for this series: deceased parents, cursing, food, blood and blood drinking, depictions and references to abusive relationships. Anxiety and trauma responses. Self-worth issues.* Honestly, not many warnings here. Mostly fluff and some sexy flirting and blood drinking/talk of biting. Summary: On the night of the Samhain ball, your long-anticipated return home is marked with tears, hugs, and a very important announcement. Notes: Next week's epilogue will be the official end of this story, my darlings, and I am so grateful for every single one of you who has come along for the ride!

Ch 1 ~ Ch 2 ~ Ch 3 ~ Ch 4 ~ Ch 5 ~ Ch 6 ~ Ch 7 ~ Ch 8 ~ Ch 9 ~ Ch 10 ~ Ch 11 ~ Ch 12 ~ Ch 13 ~ Ch 14 ~ Ch 15 ~ Ch 16

"Miss Allison, I promise you that everything is under control." Mrs. Taylor has watched Allison work her very hardest to finish the plans on the Samhain ball, and she has done wonderfully. Far more wonderfully than Allison herself would ever take credit for. Now, though, it is up to Mrs. Taylor and the rest of the staff to get the buffet tables and innumerable chairs set. "Please go and get dressed. We will take care of everything from here. It is going to be a wonderful night."

“Are you sure?” She bites her lip and wracks her brain, running through the mental checklist that has been swirling through her mind and double then tripled several times.

"This is not, as you like to say, my first rodeo." The elder vampire chuckles at the expression and motions toward the stairs. "There is plenty of time. Take a shower or even a bath. Relax yourself. Get dressed. It is time to enjoy your night."

“Do you think we ordered enough blood and donors?” She asks worriedly. Vampires from all over are descending on the estate and some do not drink from blood bags, so concessions had to be made.

“Mr. Finchley counted through the bags this morning and Renee is meeting each of the donors as they arrive.” Mostly students from the neighboring college, the set of a dozen voluntary donors for the night have signed contracts for financial compensation that they are permitted to back out of at any time if they should decide — and they will also be provided with enormous care packages made by the Taylors regardless of how long they stay or how many guests partake of their blood. Mrs. Taylor has baked and cooked enough in advance for each of them to essentially have a week’s worth of free food and Mr. Taylor went through enormous trouble to find them all manner of health and self-care items as well as other goodies. “Mr. Taylor had offered to speak to everyone but Renee thought the young ladies who signed up might be less intimidated if she was the one to greet them.”

“That would be best. I can also meet with them. Explain how it is for a human.” She offers with a slight blush. Last night she and Eddie had indulged in that particular activity after the conversation they had and she loved it.

Mrs. Taylor smiles at Allison’s blush, not calling attention to it but certainly noting the happiness in the young woman. Things appear to be going quite well. “I’m sure they would be comforted to hear from you.”

“Then I will meet with them when they are ready.” Allison decides with a smile. “Please have someone inform me when that is?”

“They have been asked to arrive by nine o’clock tonight.” The mantle clock beside them reads just after seven, meaning there truly is plenty of time. “The Master is taking it upon himself to greet any trick or treaters we might have tonight, so do not feel you need to rush in readying yourself.”

“He loves children, doesn’t he?” Allison asks, tilting her head and smiling at the thought of the elder vampire greeting kids and cooing over their costumes.

“He does.” Mrs. Taylor nods. The same expression of soft admiration paints both their features and the housekeeper clasps her hands a moment later. “Would you like a tea tray for your room? Or any help getting ready?”

“Some tea would be lovely.” She admits before she thinks about something else. “Is— has Dolly’s room been prepared for her return?” She asks softly, as if asking about it might jinx things.

An enigmatic smile from Mrs. Taylor is not the reassurance she is looking for, but the vampiric housekeeper has plenty of her own secrets as well. “All is prepared for. Truly, there is nothing for you to worry about. You should try to enjoy yourself tonight, miss.”

“Were you nervous when you were human?” Allison asks in wonder. “Or have you always been so self-assured?”

“Oh goodness no.” That actually illicits a small laugh from her and Mrs. Taylor shakes her head. “It took a good century or so to find my calm, dear girl. Before that I was as nervous as a spring bride in the morning. I simply learned to…what is your phrase? Fake it ‘til I make it. Eventually it just sank in.”

“Good to know.” She’s more assured than some, but this is her first big event and she feels like she needs to prove herself worthy to Eddie’s sire.

“Everything will be just as you wished it to be.” Mrs. Taylor promises. “Now go on. I will bring your tea up myself.”

“Thank you.” Allison flashes her a grateful smile before turning around and doing as she says.

The artfully made Alice in Wonderland and Mad Hatter costumes that Eddie found for them are hanging in his closet and Eddie himself is sitting on the bed with a copy of the party itinerary in his lap when she walks in. "Hey baby." Almost instantly, he's at her side with his arms around her. "Did Mrs. Taylor banish you from the ballroom to get ready?"

“She did.” Allison huffs out a laugh and shakes her head. “I was told that she has it completely under control. But I want this to be perfect.”

“It will be.” He squeezes her tight and presses a kiss to the top of her head. “If I suggest we take a shower will that actually relax you a little? Everything is going to be great, baby.”

“It depends.” Allison admits with a grin. “Will you…feed off me again?” She asks quietly, amazed at how much of a rush of endorphins it can be.

Eddie’s chuckle is deep, tinged with equal parts amusement and desire. “I will. Because I can smell how badly you want me to.”

Biting her lip, she grins and bats her eyelashes at him. “You don’t seem to mind it.” She reminds him, finding it intoxicating when it fires him up. He loses control for a split second when he starts to drink.

With his hands on her hips, Eddie whirls Allison around and starts walking her toward the shower with urgency. “Alright. Let’s go. Very important shower to take.”

Her laugh is one of delight and she’s ecstatic that one day, she won’t have to secretly worry about growing old and leaving Eddie. She’ll be right there with him. “Baby?” He hums and she giggles. “Can we still do this once I’m changed?”

“Shower together?” He huffs at her playfully because he knows that isn’t what she meant. “I mean we can, but vampires don’t sweat so we don’t need to wash as much.”

She snorts and rolls her eyes before she turns around to start undressing. “You know what I meant.”

“We can,” he stresses the second word and tugs off his t-shirt. “But the thing that’s weird about it is that if you drink my blood and I’m the one who turned you…it doesn’t quite taste right. It’s like an evolutionary red flag, or something like that. To prevent vampires from consuming their kin. So if you want to keep doing this, and you want it to taste good and give adrenaline and all that? I would recommend that we ask someone else to change you.”

“Would you mind?” She asks quietly. Changing a person into a vampire is also quite intimate and she doesn’t want to upset him.

“I would prefer you chose someone you know well, if it isn’t going to be me.” He can understand her choice is entirely her own, but to make another vampire is a deeply intimate and meaningful relationship. It’s why so many refer to those they have sired as their children.

“I was thinking about asking your sire.” Allison admits. “Since he approves of me.”

“Hmmm.” Eddie kisses her cheek this time, pretending to consider something he already knows is a good idea. “Are you sure you want Max for a big brother?” He teases.

She snorts and shrugs. “He will be either way.” She admits, knowing that Eddie will always be around Max. Plus she kind of likes the other vampire for his treatment of you.

“I guess that’s true.” Eddie grins, though, and helps Allison out of her last few items of clothes after turning on the hot water for them. “To be honest, I thought you might pick Mrs. Taylor, but I have no doubt if we ask him about it later, he will say yes.”

“I hope to have more of a sisterly relationship with Mrs. Taylor.” Allison admits. “Although if your sire thinks it’s a good idea, I would be fine with that.”

“I doubt dear old dad will object to siring you. But be prepared for him to make a very big deal about it.” Eddie rolls his eyes fondly. “Dramatic son of a bitch.”

“You’re dramatic in your own way.” She teases, sliding her hands up his cool chest and grinning at him.

“I’ve been well trained, I guess.” He huffs, but pulls her into the shower with him. “I’m glad you seem to like it.”

“Oh I do.” She promises, standing on her tip toes to kiss him. “I absolutely do.”

******

"This place looks incredible!" Tracy squeals, throwing her arms around Allison almost the second she's inside the house. "Holy shit, holy shit everything is amazing. And what is that smell? Are you burning incense in the house or something?"

“The food.” There’s probably some incense burning as well, but all the human food is fragrant. “You look incredible!”

"Oh, this old thing?" Tracy giggles as she twirls around in her Clueless costume and poses like a model. She and Candance and one of the other women from the coven decided to come as Cher, Tai, and Dionne tonight. "As if, right?"

“No, you look amazing, I don’t think there will be a pair of eyes that don’t stop on you and admire.” Allison gushes, grinning at the other woman. “And you’ll be dancing all night.”

"I can't believe how good the house looks and how good you look!" She jumps forward to squeeze Allison tightly again. "Everything is perfect."

“Yes it is.” Since the shower and getting dressed, she’s calmed down. It’s too late to change anything and what will be, will be. She’s left it in Mrs. Taylor’s capable hands.

Tracy bites her lip as Candace comes up beside her. “Any sign of…?”

Allison sighs, chewing on her lip worriedly and glancing around. “Not yet. But knowing Max, he will make it as dramatic as possible and arrive at midnight like some reverse pumpkin fable.” She snorts, hiding her own nerves behind the facade of humor.

“Oh god, you’re right,” Candace snorts. She reaches to hug Allison tightly and shakes her head in some sort of fond exasperation. “And he’ll have figured out how to cue Phantom of the Opera entrance music or something.”

“That would actually have been a wonderful idea!” Allison gasps. “Next year. Next year’s theme is decided.”

“All of Broadway, or specifically Phantom?” Tracy giggles at the idea, already on board.

“Phantom.” Allison knows you would love the idea. “We could honestly have a Broadway themed ball every year.”

“Different time periods, different Broadway shows, different literary influences…” Candace sighs dreamily. “My vote is for a Jane Austen ball.”

“Ohhhh that would be wonderful.” Allison sighs as well, enchanted by the idea. “It would be a very proper ball.”

“What would be?” Eddie, who had been at the front door making sure the signs for parking and entry were clear enough and in the right places, now comes up behind his girlfriend and slips one arm around her waist.

“Hi.” She beams at Eddie and sighs at the idea of him in a Regency era suit. “A Jane Austen ball.”

“Ooo, you would love that.” He coos softly and presses a kiss to her cheek. “Mr. Finchley is out front to help with parking and direct people who haven’t been here before. The first cars were pulling in when I came inside. I thought you ladies would like to know.”

“Oh, it’s time.” Allison panics for a split second but Eddie’s hand on her waist steadies her. “Then I guess you and I should stand in and greet the guests.”

“And we will man the donation table.” Tracy grabs Candace’s hand. One of the main points of the night is still to collect for charity, and every party goer is supposed to be bringing in a canned or boxed food item for the local food bank. Between the food drive and proceeds from ticket sales going to nearest women’s shelter, the night should end up being a rousing success on all fronts as long as everyone has a good time.

“Thank you.” Allison throws them grateful smiles, happy that she has such a good coven to help her.

“Come on, love,” Eddie encourages her. There is a broad, proud smile on his face and he kisses her other cheek this time. “We have guests to greet.”

“Yes we do.” In your absence, Allison wants to be the best hostess so the reputation of the party grows. This could be a success for years to come.

The first half hour or so of arrivals is a trickle. Coven members, the teachers and students from the dance studio that you and Max had gone to. Some of the museum docents from the local preservation society have arrived as a group in full costume. A few folks from the charities benefiting from tonight’s collections also arrive in their festive Halloween costumes, and a smattering of students from the nearby college as well. It’s over an hour into the night when a sleek, black sports car with tinted windows that Allison doesn’t recognize, pulls up under the porte-cochere and Mr. Taylor looks particularly amused — or even smug? — when he opens the door.

“Allison!” Though you haven’t aged a day to the naked eye, the way you hold yourself is different now. Over a hundred years changes a person, and the trauma that had once governed all of your actions has melted away to be left far in the past. But a straighter spine and surer shoulders are not what matters now. Not as you haul yourself out of the car in the beautifully elaborate gown that you wore to the first Samhain ball you ever attended — the one thrown by your abuela in 1885 when you decided to stay in the past. You and Max had thought it was a symbolic choice to wear the same clothes tonight.

Eddie’s eyes widen when Max pops out of the driver’s side and zips around to immediately take your hand, smirking slightly at the surprise and delight of the people gathered who recognize them. “I told you we haven’t missed the dancing.” He muses to you as he guides you towards the receiving party. “Edward, you look magnificent and that is saying something considering the gorgeous creature next to you.”

“What in the hell?” Eddie’s eyes widen at the deeply obvious change in Max’s demeanor and he can’t help a deep, amused laugh at how giddily you and Allison are greeting each other as he steps forward to either shake Max’s hand or give the bastard a hug. He can’t really figure out which. “Well, goddamn. You—you really did stay, didn’t you?”

Max takes the other vampire’s hand in a firm shake and drags him forward for a hug. “We couldn’t leave.” He admits shamelessly. “That time, the people, it was exactly what we both needed.” He pulls back and grins at Eddie. “But it’s damn good to see you. We missed you both.”

“We missed you, too.” As nervous as they were, and as worried as they were, it’s extremely obvious that whatever had happened, it was a positive decision. “But where the hell did you come from? And how did you leave in the first place? And when were you? We have so many questions.”

“We’ll explain it all.” Max promises. “Dolly has a lot of information to share with the coven. Including Mrs. Astor’s grimoire.”

“I’ve missed you so much.” You cling to Allison happily, drowning in your long-missed friend’s affection, before pulling back to look at her. “You look so happy, honey. That’s so good, and I’m so, so glad to see it.”

Max smirks slightly, sending Eddie a knowing look. “Eddie, you finally made your move.” He hums in approval. “Good, relationship bliss looks good on you both.”

“Come inside,” Eddie insists, practically dragging Max with him and Allison wraps her arm around yours to do the same. “We want to hear everything.”

“Of course you do.” Max is teasing, but if the situations were reversed, he would be hounding Eddie for the details. “First, how long have we been gone? Dates have kind of blurred.”

“About three weeks.” Allison tells him, still clinging to your hand. She’s still reassuring herself that you’re both real. “How long has it been for you guys, though?”

He glances at you and grins before he looks back at Allison and Eddie. “You tell them.” You urge with an indulgent smile since Max has been so excited about this.

“Only a few years.” Max insists. “One hundred and one.”

“So…you went to 1922?” Allison asks, confused because that doesn’t seem to track with what they found in their research.

“Not quite,” you admit, knowing the whole situation probably seems very complicated. “We went to 1885, and came back from 1986. A few weeks before Max was set to be born. You really don’t want to hop around in your own lifetime if you can manage it.”

“So you can move around through time?” Eddie asks, mouth hanging open as every one of his theories is being explained.

“It was by accident the first time.” The admission is a little sheepish, but you look very proud just a second later. “I’m actually quite good at it now.”

“What happened?” Allison demands. “We were thinking something happened to you when your grandfather told us.”

“Unfortunately for him, my ex decided to surprise us on our date.” It’s been a century and the hurt is gone. Not even a sting remains. Derek is no more than a blip in your past and there are now very long stretches of entire decades where you even forget he ever existed. “I tried to keep him away from us with a protection spell but my spellbinding made it go haywire, and instead of protecting Max and myself from Derek, I protected all three of us from that moment in time. It sent us back to the exact same moment, but in 1885.”

“I knew you had to be spellbound!” Allison gasps. “How did you— did you see your mother?” She asks.

"My mother has been my closest friend for a hundred years." It was difficult, moving in and out of each other's lives at times, but with both of you being functionally immortal for that time you both understood that sometimes there was no choice but to be apart. "She even called me the day she met my dad." It was a phone call you had been waiting for, unfortunately. Knowing what would ensue in the coming years, you and Max had taken it as a cue to get out of the country for the remainder of your time in your own past.

“I’m so glad you got more time with her.” Allison glances at Eddie nervously, aware that your grandfather’s announcement tonight might devastate you.

"Then why do you look as though you had lost my favourite sweater?" You reach for her with both hands and squeeze her shoulders gently. "What's wrong, Ali? The place looks amazing, you look happy, and we're finally home again. It should be a night to celebrate."

“It is.” She promises, shaking off the feeling and sending you a smile. “Your grandfather will be happy to see you.” She promises.

"He should be expecting us." Out of anyone in literally all of time, your grandfather has always been the one person most informed about when and where you will be, your plans, and anything else you could conceivably need. He's been a wonderful father figure to Max and a doting grandfather to you, as well as an invaluable resource.

“He is.” Allison assures you. “In fact, he was the one to tell us you would be back tonight.” She admits with a rueful grin. “Guess we shouldn’t have doubted him.”

"He's the last person we spoke to before we left 1986," you admit, but you also shrug. After hanging up with your grandfather, you'd definitely spent the next few hours enjoying a nice dinner and fucking all over your empty house. Max's absurd '80s power suits had ended up to be just a little bit of a turn on for you. You're just not quite sure how that happened.

Max smirks, reaching up and caressing the back of your neck as you are obviously thinking about the same thing he is. “That was a lucky year.” He teases softly.

"Very lucky." Your own smirk meets his and for one happy moment you forget anyone else exists, just sharing an amused glance with your soulmate. It may be more than a hundred years later, but you still fall a little more in love with him every day.

He arches a brow and licks his lips. “No one would miss us for a few minutes, would they?” He asks, even though he knows he can’t sneak you away for a quickie.

Allison snorts in amusement, shaking her head at Max seemingly not changing at all in his core, despite the changes in his manners on the surface. "It's your house, guys," she reminds you both.

“No.” Max shakes his head and smiles at your friend. “My wife has waited way too long to see you again to sneak her off.” He admits with a chuckle. “And I’ve been told if I mess up her hair before our first dance, there’s hell to pay.”

"It'll be Gladys Vanderbilt's debutante ball all over again," you tease. The fond roll of your eyes is nothing but love after so many years together. "Although..." Looking up at him, you flash him a sly smile. Hearing him call you his wife still hasn't gotten old. "It's been what...fifty years now, since the last time we had a wedding? We might be due for another one."

“You’re married.” Eddie is the one who practically squeals it. He has known Max to be staunchly against being tied down, but that was before you. “How many times have you gotten married?”

"Um..." The look you and Max share is vague confusion, as between the two of you, you try to count out the different weddings you have celebrated over the decades. "1885...1923...1946...1967...and the last one was 1980. So five times. And I guess that's not quite fifty years ago. More than forty, though."

“Oh my god.” Allison whispers, glancing between you and Max in amazement. “Five weddings? Max you are just….” She shakes her head and throws her arms around him while looking over her shoulder at Eddie. “You have a standard now.”

“Sorry Eddie,” you tease, enjoying the easy lightness of being with your friends again. The urge to just continuously hug them and not let go is very real. “Although it is fun. And parties these days are so much more casual than they once were. That makes it a bit easier. Or at least less forbidding to plan.”

“I want to experience that.” Eddie admits, reaching out taking Allison’s hand. “We have decided that Allison will become immortal soon.” He announces after she gives him a soft smile of encouragement.

“Oh, honey!” Your eyes flit between both of them before you bundle them both up in a hug with a beaming smile. “There is so much life to live. You’re going to love it.”

“I can’t take Eddie’s blood like you can with Max.” Allison doesn’t mind that, not really. All that matters is that Eddie wants her. “And Eddie doesn’t want to…outlive me.”

“I think it’s an oversight on the universe’s part that you aren’t soulmates.” The connection they have is so strong and their love so sure, you would have just assumed it if you hadn’t been around when they started dating. “It’s wonderful to hear that you’ll be able to be together.” Glancing over your shoulder, you smile at your own partner. Your other half throughout all of history. “Forever is quite fun, I have to admit.”

“You don’t look a day older.” Allison smirks as she takes in the changes you have brought back from the past. Self-assurance looks amazing and you seemingly glow. No longer the scared woman she had met in a farmer’s market, you are almost intimidating, and your entire aura radiates powerful magic.

“That’s a combination of Max’s blood and Audrey Hepburn’s face cream.” You smirk conspiratorially. “I’ll guard that potion with my life, since you won’t be needing it once you’ve been changed.”

“Interesting.” Her brow wings up at the mention of the famous actress, realizing you must have met her at some point. “Hepburn was a witch?”

“Particularly good with charms and potions. And she was fun. You never hear about her being fun, but she was great.” Beside you, Max has one arm around your waist and he hums proudly. “Max was a movie producer after the Second World War.”

“Really?!” The squeal is loud and enthusiastic and all heads snap towards the group. “Oh— that’s— I can’t believe we didn’t find you.”

“We were using different names at that point.” It had been essential to learn how to craft and re-craft new identities. Luckily, your grandparents had been fountains of information. “And Max only produced, so it’s not as though we were in anything.”

“Still.” She shakes her head and giggles. “The stories you can tell. What else have you two done?”

"I'll tell you everything starting tonight," you promise her, as the four of you step deeper into the house. It's good to be back at Chateau-sur-Mer again. To you and Max it has been just a few years since the last time you were here, but that's long enough to miss it. "But tomorrow you should come over to our house for dinner."

“Your house?” Her eyes widen and Allison frowns in confusion. “Dolly— th-this is your home. Cookie willed it to you, remember?”

"I know." And it is good to be back, but you rub Allison's arm affectionately. "But to avoid complications with my family through history...Max and I built another house here in Newport."

“When?” “Where?” Allison and Eddie ask at the same time with identical sounds of bewilderment.

They've reached a place where they have the same voice sometimes and it makes you smile softly. "You know that little gothic house on the beach that has basically been abandoned for the last couple of decades but somehow never decays? Seacliff Castle?" Beside you, Max smiles proudly. "It was finished in 1888. Max and Yayo designed it with the architect who built this place."

“You are kidding me!” Allison’s screech can raise the dead and she looks like a kid who was just told she was going to Disney and getting a puppy. “I have always wanted to tour that house, but no one knows who owns it. But it was you all along?”

"Come over tomorrow and we'll show you the whole place," you promise her, giggling happily at the absolute glee in her reaction. "But tonight? I want to see what you've done with the ball. I know it's going to be amazing."

“I have been so nervous.” She admits quietly. “But I think we have everything. Including donors for those who don’t eat bagged blood.”

“Mrs. Taylor and Yayo would never let you have anything less than a perfect night.”

“Do I hear my name being taken in vain?” From a nearby dark corner, your grandfather emerges into the low, atmospheric lighting of the great hall.

Max chuckles as he hears his sire’s voice. “Always.” He shakes his head. “Dramatic like always,” he jokes, having told you that your grandfather would make a dramatic entrance.

“I have learned that there are some things which are expected of me,” he jokes pleasantly. “Your journey was not difficult, then?”

“No.” Max reaches out and shakes his sire’s hand warmly and pulls the elder vampire in for a hug. “Cookie did not stake you for keeping our true relationship a secret, I see.” He jokes, even though everyone already knew that.

“She was…not happy.” He clears his throat distinctly remembering that particular fight with his soulmate. Cookie had been furious to find out that her beloved granddaughter and the witch she had been so fond of for a hundred years were one and the same.

“Hopefully she understood eventually why we had to keep it from her, and from Annie.” The contact with your mother had lessened over the years but she had never demanded that they choose sides, something Max had been grateful for – for your sake.

“She did understand.” He is sure of that, considering how very much it had been discussed. “But she regretted not being able to dote on you both as her grandchildren.”

“She did dote on us though.” Max protests and shakes his head. “She treated us like we were family and she loved Dolly like another daughter.”

“She did.” His sire nods, knowing it is the absolute truth. He sighs though, with a theatrical shrug of his shoulders. “But you know Cookie. My darling girl loved titles.”

“She was a special lady.” Max has a fonder appreciation for the older woman, even more so with the knowledge she had known who he was when he first arrived and still had kept her word to her husband to not say anything.

“She was remarkable.” Your grandmother may not have been perfect — in fact she was decidedly less than sometimes — but that was what made her so incredibly special to you. She had never demanded that perfection from you or Max that she tended to expect from Annie. Perhaps it was for the best that she didn’t know how you were at the time? You’ll never quite know.

“Yes, she was.” For a brief second, amongst those he is closest to, your grandfather’s grief shines on his face. Missing the other half of his soul as vividly as the day she had passed in his arms.

“I’m sorry, Yayo.” The only one of the four younger beings whose instinct is to reach out, you bundle your grandfather up in a hug. “I miss her, too. Her and Mom.”

He accepts the hug, squeezing you harder than he would have before you started taking Max’s blood. “Thank you, muñeca.” He hums softly, not missing the way that Eddie and Allison shift slightly. “I will be reunited with them soon.”

“You never know when the people we love can come back to us,” you hum, but the look on your grandfather’s face makes you hesitate. “But…somehow I don’t think you’re talking about that…?”

“Because you are bright.” Yayo praises softly, cupping your cheek and smiling at you mysteriously. “It has always been my plan to join my soulmate in her afterlife.” He admits. “Since she decided to end her mortality. I have only extended my time in this existence to make sure you were well settled, my darling muñeca.”

“Oh…” You don’t cry much anymore, but tears well up behind your eyes instantly. Saying goodbye to the last of your family is not something you had prepared for tonight. “I—but—the family?” He has so many more responsibilities than just your immediate family, you can only imagine that he was preparing for this for a very long time. Or else made a lot of decisions very quickly.

“Is your family now.” He reminds you softly. “Although I have decided to name my successor tonight.” He smiles proudly and hopes that you will not be too upset at him.

“This night is much more important than I thought, then.” Stepping back from him, you settle against Max’s side and try for a smile. Your grandfather is doing what will make him happiest and you have to respect that, even if it is rather a big shock.

“You will understand.” He promises, smiling at the group and then motioning towards the ballroom. “Let the evening begin.”

******

The evening, as Yayo so elegantly termed in, is incredible. With the party starting so late and the buffet being available to guests all night long, it seems that the ebb and flow of partygoers is constant. Music plays, people dance, and the lingering masses of vampires throughout the house are generally met with curiosity from the humans who find them fascinating — though they don’t quite know why. Those who are attending as donors are spoiled immensely and some have been given guest rooms for the night, but for the most part they seem to be an altogether dreamy sort of drunk to the unaware humans present. It is not until Yayo disseminates word to his extended family of brooding immortals to meet in the morning room that any sort of tension cracks the enjoyment of the night.

Max holds your hand, aware that you are upset, and he wishes he had some insight into this talk. As close as he had become to the older vampire, he hadn’t had a clue he was planning on giving up his immortality. “It will be alright.” He assures you softly, squeezing your hand.

“I know.” You squeeze his hand tenderly and lean into his side, long ago having learned how to be close even while wearing large gowns. You just wish you had had more notice. Time to prepare. “He just has to be dramatic as hell about all of this. Calling a family meeting in the middle of a ball? Very Yayo.”

“He likes to make a scene.” Max snorts, lifting a brow when the servers bring around glasses of blood and champagne for the guests. The one who stops in front of you, hands you a specific glass. “It’s white grape juice, madam.”

The barest sniff of sweet juice proves she is telling the truth, and you smile gratefully. Even after a hundred years? Alcohol holds no appeal for you whatsoever. “Thank you,” you acknowledge with a smile. “My husband prefers something a little richer, if you don’t mind.”

“Mr. Phillips.” Another glass is handed to him and he sniffs it politely.

“Hmmmm AB negative.” He smirks. “Someone put some thought into planning this.”

"Allison said she left blood menus to Mrs. Taylor." There is no mistaking that your friend took the responsibility of planning tonight seriously, and divvying tasks out to the appropriate people when delegation benefited the situation.

“Then I will have to thank her.” Max takes and sip and hums in approval. “But later.”

"Has he started yet?" Eddie and Allison slip into the room beside the two of you, already having said hello to the extended vampiric family earlier in the night.

“Not yet.” Max eyes the elder vampire. “I think he was waiting for something.”

"It's always something," you hum, sharing a grin with Allison as the same passing waitress who served you and Max returns to offer Eddie and Allison drinks before exiting the room. When she goes, she shuts the morning room door behind her.

“I would like to thank everyone for traveling to attend tonight.” Yayo’s voice never seems to raise in volume but it booms around all of you clearly. “Not only is this a worthy cause to humans dear to my heart, but it is also a special night for our future.” There is a smattering of polite applause and you lean into Max's side even while Allison does the same with Eddie beside you.

“All the vampires here, I have personally sired.” He reveals with a pleased smirk on his face. Considering there are no fewer than two dozen vampires in the room, a small murmur ripples through the younger of that number. The elder vampires chuckle with the knowledge. “And tonight…” He holds up his own glass of blood. “One of you will replace me as the elder vampire. Leader and mentor to the future.” He announces. “I have decided to join my soulmate in the afterlife.”

The limited, mannered responses are gone in an instant, replaced by an audible gasp and murmured exclamation as the members of your extended — very extended — family all look around the room to see if anyone knew this announcement was coming. Eyes fall on you more than anyone else, wondering if your grandfather will take his biological family into account in this decision.

“I know that a lot of people have wondered who would take my place. And at one point in time, I had imagined my grandson-in-law, Max Phillips, to lead our pack.” He turns his head and acknowledges him with a smile. “However, there is another that I have in mind, since Max will be busy with juggling a new role.”

New role? You look to Max with confusion, but it's clear from the furrow in his brow that he has no idea what your grandfather is talking about either. If anything, his expression is more akin to crestfallen than anything else. He's fallen short of whatever expectation his sire had of him...

“Years ago, I made a mistake.” Yayo admits to the men and women he considers his children. “My Annie, my daughter with my soulmate; I felt she was destined to leave the coven of witches and her soulmate Emmanuel would be the perfect vampire mate. I ended up losing my daughter and never got to properly apologize for placing so much emphasis on the wrong things.” He pauses for a second. “I want my granddaughter and her husband to focus on the most important role of all. They will be becoming parents.”

Enthusiastic is the word for the applause this time, though the reaction from you and Max — the people being announced — is pure shock. "H—how?" How could he possibly know that? Especially before you do?

Your grandfather chuckles, seeing the confusion and bewilderment on your face. “Your smell, my dear muñeca.” He explains with an enigmatic smile. “I have had the pleasure of smelling a vampiric pregnancy before. That is why your soulmate had not been aware either. There is a sweeter note to your blood.”

Honestly, you might be more embarrassed about having it announced in front of so many people if you weren't so flabbergasted by the news. With your jaw practically on the ground and your eyes watering, your free hand goes to your stomach while your other squeezes Max's so tightly you would be afraid of hurting him if he weren't a vampire. You're so shocked that you didn't even notice Allison take the glass from your hand or the proud uncle expression on Eddie's face.

“I want my family to focus on being there, being the best parents they can be.” He admits selfishly with a small shrug. “Who says you can’t teach an old dog new tricks?” He jokes. “Max however, will be vital to the next leader. His own wisdom far greater than my own, and I feel that he will make Edward Perez the best leader vampires have ever had.”

Eddie's gasp is even more audible than your own when he hears his sire say his name. For that matter, it's been almost ten years since he used his mortal surname, and hearing it spoken so proudly is a kind of gratification that he can't quite express. While it's true that his sire — the entire room's sire — had given him more than ample guidance over the decades, Eddie hadn't ever considered himself anything too special. Not until he had started giving him more responsibilities in the last few years. Not until Allison had come along with her staunch and unyielding belief in him. Now it seems like all of that is coming to a head, and he steps forward hesitantly to stand up beside his sire.

“Eddie has been the best vampire that I could have imagined.” Yayo admits. “And Max— he has held a special place in my heart from the very beginning. I know that with Eddie in charge and Max advising him, our numbers will grow and your bonds strengthen.”

If there is any doubt or dissention from the other vampires of the clan, not a word of it is spoken in their sire's presence. Instead Eddie accepts a few nods and a whistle or two from his extended family and looks back at Allison to flash her a smile before putting his hand out to his sire. "I will do everything I possibly can to live up to this responsibility, and the faith that you've placed in me."

Max smiles, still a little shocked that he had not known you were pregnant. Leaning close and inhaling your scent to recognize the sweet, floral undertones to your blood for what it is. He had just imagined it was because modern food was processed with more sugar than in the past.

“I can’t be that far along, can I?” You whisper to him under the commotion of vampires now moving forward to shake Eddie’s hand or meet Allison for the first time. Many of them had not bothered to meet the younger vampire’s partner earlier in the night but they are making the effort now. “I mean…” you look up at your soulmate with disbelieving tears in your eyes, beaming an enormous smile at him. “I haven’t even missed my period yet.”

“No.” Max can’t help but lean closer to smell you again, addicted to the idea that you are carrying his child. If his own tears are concealed by your neck, that’s just a coincidence. “Your smell hasn’t been sweeter for long. Only a few days.”

“It’s sweeter?” Somehow that is just about the cutest thing you’ve ever heard — that pregnancy can and does make your scent sweeter instead of anything else — and the water behind your eyes presses at them again.

“It is.” Max hums softly, smiling at the newfound knowledge. Committing this smell to memory. “We will have to make sure you stay healthy, my love.”

"It's a damn good thing that I mined abuela for information about carrying a half-vampire baby while I still had the chance." The hand you have on your stomach curls in, conscious of the corset under your dress but knowing that there isn't anything but a tiny little bundle of cells in there right now. "Holy shit...pregnant..."

“I can’t believe it.” It’s not like you’ve been trying but you also have gone over one hundred years without protection. Max had quietly assumed children weren’t to be and had never mentioned it so he wouldn’t worry you. The relief that he can give you a child is one that would make him cry, and he will later on when it’s sunk in.

"I just sort of assumed..." you murmur, leaning into his side and burying your face at his shoulder. In this room you can be quiet as a whisper and everyone will still hear you, but they have enough respect to pretend otherwise. "After so long...I figured it was just...not in the cards."

“It just wasn’t our time yet.” He murmurs softly, smiling at the thought that you are carrying his little baby biter. “Do you want some of my blood or should we find a vintage you like for when the baby demands more than you normally take?”

"Abuela said she ended up drinking a glass of blood at almost every meal in her second trimester." Of course the word trimester hadn't been used in that conversation, but you had made copious detailed notes for yourself after any conversation in which vampire pregnancy or children rearing was mentioned. "I guess I'm going to have to figure out how to drink it when it isn't from you. Maybe mixed with hot cocoa? Or even decaf coffee."

He chuckles. “Actually, you might like it in tomato juice.” He suggests. “Keep you from thinking about it too much.”

"That's not a bad idea." The hand you have in his tightens reflexively, keeping him close and savoring these first few moments of realization. "We'll try a little bit of everything. It's going to be a very interesting nine months, considering I'm only the second woman in the world to carry a vampire's baby."

“I mean technically….” Max grins. “You’re a quarter vampire yourself. A little more than that every night.” He winks at you salaciously.

A momentary snort of amusement breaks a little bit of the bubble of worry that was starting to form in your mind, and you nudge him with your shoulder. "A hundred years later and you can still never resist joking about that."

“Babe, if I ever stop joking about that, you just go ahead to push that stake through my heart.” He jokes, knowing that you would never think about something like that.

"It'll never happen," you laugh, knowing as well as he does that some things will just never change.

“I know.” He bites his lip and grins at you. “So we haven’t had a wedding in this time.” He ventures. “What do you think about a shotgun wedding?”

"Oo, we've never had one of those before." An elopement, a grand party, a trip to City Hall, a backyard barbecue, and a small town bash — all of those you've done. But a shotgun wedding would be a new one for the two of you. "I think it's perfect."

“Now…we have to find out who’s holding the shotguns.” He jokes, pulling you close and pressing his lips to yours. “Do you want to wait until the belly is huge or before?”

"We may not get a chance to have me showing off a baby bump in a wedding dress ever again. I think we have to take advantage of it." He can obviously feel the way your heartbeat has risen, smell the way your adrenaline is singing, but that tender bump of his heart when he kisses you makes it all a perfect symphony.

“Completely agree.” Max nods seriously. “The wedding should be themed. Obviously.”

"Baby themed or cowboy themed?" You ask, laughing but slightly afraid to hear the answer.

“Oh no.” He snorts and sends you a grin. “Hillbilly, shot gun wedding.” He tells you, enjoying the idea immensely even if you would never agree.

Both of you snort, knowing it isn't the kind of thing that you'll ever do, but that joking about it is it's own kind of fun. "Water guns as favours for every guest and a Beverly Hillbillies impersonator to marry us?"

He chuckles and nods. “Something like that.” He jokes before he looks at you seriously. “I do want us to be married officially before the baby is born. In our true timeline.”

"I have no problem with that." Somehow you have a feeling this will be the wedding that matters most to him, whereas the one nearest and dearest to your heart was the one in 1885 where you were surrounded by your family and new friends. Setting both hands on his chest, you lean in to kiss him again and smile softly. "We'll make this one perfect for you, love."

Max knows that after one hundred years of family with your mother and grandparents, he should not have familial hang ups, but he does. “I don’t care about perfect.” He promises. “I just want to do right by you and our child.” He admits. “To be everything my father said I would never be. A good husband, a good father. A good man.”

"Those are the things you are, Max." It never hurts to remind him once in a while. You know that. But you also know that sometimes he has to prove it to himself more than anyone else. "And I'm very proud to be your soulmate."

“I never want that to change.” The Max of before might not have said that in front of a room full of vampires, but he doesn’t care. If they know nothing else about Max Phillips, they should know that he is devoted to his soulmate.

It takes a little while for the hubbub to calm down, but when it does, Eddie squeezes his arm gently around Allison's shoulder on one side of him and looks to his sire and shakes his head in near disbelief. "This is...it's a surprise. I have to admit."

“You don’t think you deserve it?” Max asks, clapping his vampiric brother on the shoulder and even though he’s disappointed for himself, he’s proud for Eddie. He understands why Yayo didn’t name him as the next head of the clan. He would be too distracted by your pregnancy and Eddie is levelheaded where Max is not.

"We're the two youngest, and you're soulmates with his granddaughter," Eddie reminds Max, turning to clap his brother on the shoulder. "You can't blame me for expecting the choice to go in another direction."

“Nah, you deserve it.” Max tells him honestly. “You’re the better vampire and you know it.” He smirks. “Now we just need to get you to act like it.”

"Good thing you're home, then." He laughs, grinning even as he shakes Max's hand with a force that would break a mortal's bones. "We'll catch up with you in a second," he intones, glancing back at you and Allison hugging a few feet away. "I need to talk to our Father about something."

“Of course.” Max flashes him a grin and a wink. “I’m going to go flirt with my wife and your girlfriend.” He teases before moving back to your side protectively.

"Actually..." Allison slips away from your side to take Eddie's outstretched hand. "I'm...part of this conversation. But when we get back out there, I'm stealing you for a dance. Okay, twinkle toes?"

“Oh?” His eyebrows raise furiously but he nods and wraps his hand around your waist. “Hope you’re ready to glide around the floor. I’ve had over one hundred years of practice with Dolly.”

"That's exactly why I'm stealing you," she teases, giving you both a small wave before turning back into Eddie's side to broach the topic of her own siring with the vampire who just stepped down as head of his long-lived clan.

“I wonder if everything is alright.” Max frowns slightly as he looks at the retreating pair and then back at you. “How are you doing, my love?” He asks, cupping your cheek.

"Wonderfully." The glass of grape juice is still sitting nearby and you pick it up, wanting the small comfort of a drink in hand. "In fact, I think when we go home in the morning, we should celebrate."

“How should we celebrate?” Max asks with a grin, even though he’s got some idea.

"Hmmm..." you tease, pretending to think very hard about it even though you already know the answer. "I was thinking...by the same way that we made the little nugget in the first place."

“You mean you want to have sex on the balcony overlooking the ocean and waving to the boats as they pass by?” Max grins as he licks his lips.

"I'm so glad we decided to have a house by the water," you groan softly, humming at the memory of just a few days ago — it was still 1986 but you were back at Seacliff, getting ready to travel back to your own true timeline. "Excellent idea. Extremely good."

“I know.” He grins at you. The house has been a lovely refuge for the two of you. It had given you the separation you needed from mother and grandmother so you didn’t spill the secret.

"So Eddie's head of the vampiric family, huh?" Wrapping your hand around Max's arm, the two of you drift back toward the ballroom at a leisurely pace. "And you'll be his right-hand. That's a hell of a lot of responsibility while we're growing our own family."

“I think that’s why your grandfather didn’t want me to take over.” Max admits. “Although, don’t tell Eddie I said this, he’s a better fit for the job.”

"You're a good pair." You admit that you had balked a little at the time, but when Max had wanted to go check on Eddie's human parents in the few years before he was born, the late 70s and early 80s had actually ended up being a blast. Eddie's little hometown in Northern California was comfortable and fun, and you’d lived a very basic suburban life for a few years. Max had barely stifled tears the day your neighbors had brought little newborn Eddie home from the hospital.

“We’ll see.” Max doesn’t argue but his hand slides down to your stomach proudly. “I’ll honestly be more focused on you and the little biter.” He has already filed the paperwork to ‘inherit’ the money he has made over the past generations. Restraining himself and not taking advantage of his insider knowledge too badly.

“That’s what you’re going with calling the baby, huh?” You raise an eyebrow at him but still end up smiling. You’ve wanted this for so long, it almost doesn’t matter what he calls them.

“I can call them a little pup.” He teases, his chest puffed out proudly. “That’s what baby bats are called.”

“That’s actually kind of cute.” The smile on your face widens again and your hand rests over his on your stomach. “Which is appropriate, since you’ve always been my Cutie.”

His shy grin is always something that makes him look younger and despite the years, he still is bashful about the way he had become a bat to spend more time with you. “Need to find a bat mobile for the crib.” He jokes, “or I’ll just change and flap around to entertain them.”

“It will end up being both.” At the edge of the ballroom, you beam at him proudly and hold out your other hand. “First dance as expectant parents?”

“Always.” Max takes your hand and kisses the back of it. You had mentioned how much you loved the gesture when you had first watched Titanic when you were younger and while back in the 1800s it was extremely appropriate. Now he knows that two hundred years from now, he will still kiss the back of your hand to watch the burst of delight in your eyes. “Waltz with me. Today and every day, my love.”

______

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