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jksprincess10 · 7 months

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Attraction spell || Vampire ! Joel x Witchy reader

CW: DDDNE, noncon/dubcon, stalking, blood play, using blood as lube, ambiguous ending, unprotected p in v, fingering, praise kink, choking, pain kink, rough sex, minimal editing. (around 1400 words)

Divider by saradika

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This place almost feels like it's between life and death. It's overrun by dust, but it's as warm as human flesh.

And you, you look so alive, so warm, as he peers through the window of your small witchcraft store. A lot more curious people seemed enticed by your shop on Halloween day, or Samhain as you'd call it, so he had to wait until things quieted down. Usually, you waited long hours until you had costumers, reading, cleaning, playing with tarot cards. He knew each and every one of your habits. But today, you were a busy bee.

When all the kids leave happily with their pumpkins stuffed with candy, he looks down at his beat-up watch. Only a few minutes before closing time.

You clean your workspace and make sure every herb is in the right spot. You looked at your low candy inventory and grab one for yourself as you start cleaning the floors, a lollipop between your lips.

You do not hear the door open. Weird... usually, the bell rings. But there's a man, alone, in your shop. You try to repress the goosebumps you feel all over your arms and the scream of surprise that threatens to leave your lips.

His fingers are touching every nick knack, every shiny rock before he looks at you with a smile that makes you uneasy.

He's unnaturally beautiful with deep brown eyes and matching curly hair. You on suck the lollipop one last time before you take it out of your mouth to speak.

"Oh hi there! Didn’t hear you come in. I was just starting to clean before close, but feel free to ask for help." You offer in an overly enthusiastic tone.

Joel watches the red candy closely, drenched in your saliva, before looking at your eyes, where he detects the sweet feeling of fear.

“Sorry darlin’, didn’t mean to startle ya.” He has a southern drawl to his voice; he wasn’t from around here. His accent almost didn’t match his face. “Was lookin’ for a love spell. Hopin’ a sweet witch could help.”

“Hmmm.” You leave your broom aside and turn around to look at your shelves lines with different transparent jars, all labeled in your clean, cursive writing. “Love spells aren’t very ethical. But – I can make an attraction spell for you, does that work?”

You don't hear him move, even though he’s wearing heavy boots, and when you turn around, he’s right there. Crowding you behind the small space of your counter and your wall of shelves. He’s tall and broad, and he makes you feel like a vulnerable mouse he could just crush under his feet. Your breath gets stuck in your throat, and you feel yourself suffocated by his mere presence. Under his cologne smell, you detect the slightest hint of the coopery smell of blood.

You keep your calm. It wasn’t your first time dealing with creeps.

“That works, darlin’.”

“I’ll just need your name.” You move away from him swiftly to collect your ingredients.

“Why?” The man asks, clearly annoyed.

“Can’t put my intention a spell behind without a name.”

“Joel.”

“Alright, Joel, let’s get started.”

You do your best to ignore him as you put the herbs in a small fabric bag. You do your best to ignore your hands that are violently shaking. You do your best to ignore how you’re making a mess on your clean counter, herbs littering the space. Before you can even feel him there, you feel a sharp pain in your neck, like a deep puncture. You almost fall, but strong hands hold you in place, fingers splayed over your stomach.

“What the f-”

“Shh sweetheart, le’me enjoy my meal, yeah?”

You can’t scream, you’re suffocating. When he pulls his fangs out, you feel weak, but thankfully, he holds you up. You hope this is just a really bad nightmare and you’ll wake up in your bed in seconds…

He licks your neck, cleans his mess. You repress the butterflies in your lower abdomen.

“M’sorry, a man has to eat. Been watching you for a long time.” His voice is deep and rough next to your ear. “Knew just how sweet you’d be.”

He spins you around in his arms, just so you can see how sincere he looks. Brown irises were replaced by a deep crimson that matches the – your blood dripping from his lips. You try to push him away, but his grip is iron-like.

“You had what you wanted, let me go…” You whisper weakly.

“Hmhm. Don’t have my fill of ya just yet.”

You spin, too fast. He pushes on your lower back, so the top of your body is laying against your shop counter. You feel his hips against you, he’s so close.

“Please Joel, don’t hurt me.”

“M’not gonna hurt you. Gonna make you feel real good. Stay still.” While he tears off all your clothes, he takes a bite on the other side of your neck, but this time, he lets the blood run down your neck for a little while, watching like a satisfied predator. He uses two of his fingers to collect the blood dripping from the wound, and he uses those same fingers to enter your heat. You’re closing around him, resisting.

“Relax. Not gonna hurt you.” He repeats.

“O-Okay.”

You’re breathing in and out until you’re more relaxed. Joel waits until he feels your walls relaxing to start moving his fingers, stretching you. He curls his digits, finding that spot deep within you. You let out a moan.

“There ya go, hun’. Enjoy yourself.”

You’re wetting his fingers, creating a beautiful potion of your juices and your blood. He thrusts his fingers roughly, in and out, creating a symphony of wet sounds and moans in the empty store.

“Knew you’d be such a good girl.” Joel’s words push you over the edge.

Your walls flutter around his fingers and he feels you getting even wetter. He takes his fingers away from you and spins you around. You’re a wreck: blood still spilling from your neck wounds, completely naked, your clothes torn in shreds by your feet. He smiles, his shiny canines fully out. His lips close around his digits, sucking off the blood and the remains of your orgasm.

His eyes roll into the back of his skull, and you can’t help the deranged thought that crosses your mind: he’s breathtakingly beautiful. But so are most monsters.

“You could’ve at least kissed me before fucking me, Joel.”

“I’m sorry.” But he smirks. He’s not.

Joel’s hands are on your face, grabbing, pulling at you until his lips are crashing against yours, a wave of depravity and sharp teeth scratching your bottom lip. His hands go from your cheeks to your throat, putting pressure there, as if to stop the blood from dripping. The air is leaving your lungs slowly, and you feel like you’re actually going to die, until he props you up on your counter. You watch him with dark eyes as he unzips his pants. He’s tanned all over. You thought vampires would be paler, but maybe it was a myth.

You sit back, resting on your palms as you watch him working his erection. You wrap your legs around his middle and follow his length disappearing between your legs. Your head lay against his broad shoulder. He barely gives you a moment to adjust before his hips are snapping harshly against yours. Pants are escaping from your lips as he moves rapidly. But your mind wanders. To find something that could save your life.

You doubt that the vampire would let you go after this, especially if he’s been stalking you. He pulls on your hair to look down at your face, feeling how you suddenly got distracted. He stills inside you. He knows.

“Whatever you’re thinkin’, doll, you’re not getting out of this.” Joel groans menacingly.

Before you can react in any way, you’re facing the ground, your face squished against the creaky floorboards, his weight pushing you down.

“I-I wasn’t tryin’ to…”

He pulls on your hair and stuffs three thick fingers in your mouth to shut you up, making you gag.

“Be a good girl and shut the fuck up.” The vampire lets go of your hair and puts his palm beside your head to support his weight. Joel is breaking into your walls again, picking up where he left off at the same punishing pace. His length is so deep, it almost hurts, but the line between pleasure and pain had been blurred for a while now. You suck on his fingers to muffle your screams while he pounds into you violently. After a few more thrusts, he stills and erupts between your walls, filling you up.

Finally, he frees your mouth and lets you turn around, still caged by his massive body.

“Just kill me already.” You whisper weakly.

“Oh no, baby.” He coos in a sickly-sweet tone. “I’ll keep you. For eternity.”

#jksprincess10's spooktober #halloween fanfiction #joel miller halloween fanfiction #vampire!joel #vampire!joel miller #joel miller smut #joel miller x you #joel miller x reader #pedro pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction #joel miller tlou #vampire fic #dark!joel #dark joel fic #dark joel miller

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beansricejc · 2 months

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juices like wine

werewolf!john wick x f!reader

synopsis: on a full moon’s night, you think you’ll be safe in this house alone with your fellow monster hunter.

warnings: monster!jw, cursing, pussy drunk activities, oral (f receiving), squirting, sniffing, watered down spec of masochism, dbf!john, age gap, dub con(?)

authors note: thx for all of ur messages, life is just too much rn and I’m attempting to keep up haha, here’s that spooky thing I promised

“Uh, are you sure this will-“

“Of course it will!” I rolled my eyes, tightening the cuffs on the iron cuffs on John’s wrists. “My dad’s book says that werewolves can’t break through iron. And his book is never wrong.”

John flashed me a skeptical look with his eyebrows raised before rolling those thin brown eyes. Hunting monsters has always been our side gig. Although, things became a little tricky when he had accidentally been bitten by a now dead furry friend, almost a month ago now. Tonight was the full moon, and there haven’t been any side effects but John insisted on taking no chances.

My partner in crime sighed, grunting a bit with discomfort as the iron restraints dig into his flesh a little.

“It better not be wrong. I won’t be able to forgive myself if something happened.”

My hand grabs his bearded and chiseled face, forcing John to give me his attention. There’s always been… tension, between the two of us. Yet neither have acted on it. He was my dad’s best friend after all, before my dad became vampire food on a job gone awry.

“Nothing is gonna happen.” I reassured him, my fingers squeezing his face a bit harder this time. John nods to himself, taking a few deep breaths. “It’s only for a night. Hell, I can just turn The Office on for you while you’re in here.”

Light hearted humor got me nowhere tonight. I’m an idiot. A fool. A fucking moron. That’s what I’m telling myself as I creep through the house on the second floor. A silver dagger in one hand, a phone in the other, with Charon on the other line, the closest Hunter in proximity to us in the state.

“His senses are better, he’s faster, stronger, you need to get out of there or just kill him.” Charon pleads. I grunt quietly.

“I can’t leave-“

A loud and bone rattling howl bounces off of the walls of the house, startling me. I froze in my tracks, cursing under my breath. I hang up the phone and slip it into the pocket of my leggings.

“You smell even better during a full moon.”

My breathing stops as I feel the breath of another behind me. I know damn well who that person is, his voice is much deeper and gravelly than normal, this isn’t him. This isn’t the John I know.

A yelp escaped my lips as two paw-like hands grab me from behind, tossing me over a huge shoulder. John’s shirt is mostly ripped all the way off, since his transformation took place under just a simple tee shirt and flannel pants.

“John! Put me down!” I shouted, legs thrashing as my fists beat at his huge back. Thud, thud, thud, it did nothing. I hadn’t even noticed that John had tossed the silver blade aside until I had tried to use it.

A deep throaty chuckle erupts from John’s mouth, right before he tossed me onto the bed of the master bedroom. I land on silken sheets as my eyes widen, experiencing John as half man, half wolf, for the first time. Fangs peek from his lips as his beard had become much more untamed and wild, even his hair is much longer and crazy.

Muscles bulge from his shirt, before he gets frustrated and rips it off with an irritated roar. The shreds of the fabric land on the wood floor, as his evolved muscles ripple over my cowering form on the king sized bed.

“Such a pretty girl. I’ve always known better than to have a piece of you to myself.” John speaks lowly, his red eyes linger over me. “But I can’t control myself tonight. I’m sorry sweetpea.”

“Wait, John, just, wait!” I know damn well it’s to no avail. His paws grab my thighs and push my legs to the mattress, as his nose buries itself in my clothed crotch. Frowning, I scream in objection but my squirming and resistance is futile. I can’t even beat John while we spar, of course I won’t even have a chance while he’s half man, half creature.

“Fuck, you’re ovulating.” John salivates and takes in a deep breath to get the scent of my cunt imbedded into his feral brain. With one tiny motion of his razor sharp claws, despite my avid protests, he sliced the crotch of my leggings open like butter.

“Hey hey hey! No! John, this can’t happen!” I stammer out quickly. John is far too heavy and I don’t stand a chance.

“Don’t worry. My cock is too big to give you right now.” John insists, dropping his pajama pants and tugging on his huge erection. It matches his insanely big body, one that I’m just realizing has been growing larger and larger ever since he began his chase.

My jaw dropped as I notice he’s got to be at least seven feet tall now, with a cock that’s about 10 inches long, but 4 inches wide. John seriously had a comically large and furry dick at the moment, and I had no idea if I should have laughed or just stayed quiet. So I picked the latter.

John drops to his knees, as both of his hands spread my thighs even further, taking a longer inhalation of the heat between them. Squirming under him, I couldn’t help but whimper and whine out of the pure tickling sensation. The feeling of his beard and nose on my folds were unfamiliar to say the least.

“John, get o-“

I stop talking and let out a moan as his big nose brushes against my clit. His long spongy tongue swiped efficiently on my folds, making them pliable enough to then plunge in a finger.

John let’s go of my thigh for half a second so he can shred apart my sleeping shirt, my tits falling out of the fabric. My nipples harden from the sudden air exposure. John growls against my cunt in response to that sinful visual. One of his paws smack my left breast, earning a gasp from me, while his tongue worked overtime inside of me.

Head like this only existed in porn, right?

Apparently not. Apparently, you can get head like this from your local werewolf.

My fingers dug at the bedsheets and also his head of messy long hair. My fingers even brush against his newly grown canine-like ears, I keep forgetting that this is only happening because John has turned. That meant, he was eating my pussy and needing to inhale my scent on pure instinct. If he doesn’t, he’d go insane. He’d lose control. Maybe even kill someone.

The mere thought of my vagina actually being the death of someone kinda has me in a chokehold at the moment.

“Mine. Mine. Mine.”

John continued to lick, suck, thrust, whatever he could to with his tongue to get my taste and scent locked into his memory. He’s even so desperate that he has managed to scratch up my thighs and stomach in the process. The cuts aren’t anything too deep, maybe a bit more than a cat claw. But I’d be in denial if I claimed the slight sting of his nails and there euphoric head I was receiving wasn’t a delectable combination.

A knot forms in my lower region, an unusual feeling. Not like an orgasm, no, this was something else entirely. I had no idea what to expect, but it sure as hell was shocking when I began to squirt all over John’s bearded face.

My cum splashed onto his cheeks and nose, even a bit of his forehead. The dribbles from my pussy coat his unkempt beard, and he catches his breath with an exhausted smile when he pulls away.

With my legs trembling and moans spilling from my mouth, I laid under his beastly frame, helpless. Exposed to my elder Hunter, it was a shock to see him as some vicious monster. My heart was nearly about to give out from the intensity of the orgasm, and from the pure shock I was still trying to comprehend.

While he collected my juices from his face and sucked them off of his fingers, my mind is racing as I wonder, is he even going to remember this tomorrow? When he shifts back, is it going to be awkward between us from now on? There’s no way he actually felt so strongly for me… right?

If he didn’t recall eating me out like it was his last day on earth, how am I going to drop that bomb? John’s hands grab my face, much like how I had a few hours earlier. His moist nose and forehead press against mine, smushing in a little. My own juices smear against my small face. John’s red eyes demand my full attention from mere centimeters away.

That same rough voice gives me a growling chuckle.

“Been waiting three years for that one, babygirl. Maybe now you’ll notice me.”

#john wick one shot #john wick #jw #john wick x reader #john wick x y/n #john wick x you #keanu reeves #john wick imagine #keanu #spooktober #spooky fic #kinktober

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hedwig221b · 6 months

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“He’ll never allow us to be together,” Stiles murmured in the most devastating voice. He was afraid to look Derek in the eyes. “He said he’ll think about it after I finish college. But I haven’t even applied. Because we don’t have money, we never did. We never will. And Dad knows that. He fucking—” “It’s okay.” “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, Derek.” “Don’t.” “You’ve been waiting for so long and for fucking nothing…” “Baby.” Oh, his voice was so sweet. He took Stiles’ red face into his hands and met his gaze. “I’m not waiting for anything. I already have you. Here, right now, in my arms. He can say whatever he wants, you’re already mine.”

Full version: Torn Apart and Set Anew

#sterek #sterek fic #stiles x derek #eternal sterek #sterek fanfic #sterek ao3 #sterek fic rec #teen wolf fanfiction #derek x stiles #my fics #sterek moodboard #sterek imagine #derek hale #stiles stilinski #spooktober

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demonshauntingthedoves · 7 months

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The Keychain [spooktober]

Pairing : Ghost!jimin x female reader

Genre : Horror Au

Summary : You had tried to take your keychain back from Jimin, only for you to push him in the process and him falling back in the lake along with it. He was never found and nor was the keychain. So imagine the horror when you find it lying on your desk, twenty years after.

Warnings : horror, angst, childhood mistake, difficulty to sleep.

WordCount : 1986

Your fingers sauntered over the keyboard as you typed away on your laptop. With a final emphasised click, you leaned back and sighed in relief that you had finally finished the part of the novel you'd been writing.

Your ears picked at the distant sound. Coming back and forth. The swing. It became clearer and more loud.

You smiled thinking that the children might be playing on the swing. It was normal because you lived on the second floor of your complex and often heard the kids playing.

You lifted yourself up from the warmed chair but halted when you glanced at the clock.

It was way past midnight.

No kids played at this hour.

The sibilant sound of swing was still heard.

You furrowed your brows in confusion. Curiosity got the better of you and you made your way towards the apartment balcony which directly faced the playground.

There was no moon. You peered your eyes around in the dark bleak midnight and to your horror you saw the swing.

But there was no one there. No kids.

And the swing continued to move back and forth. Back and forth.

You were familiar with such scenarios. You'd always feel the adrenaline rush to write out such a horror scene. It was your favourite genre. But to experience one in real life was not something you'd ever imagined.

You felt your guts pool up with bile as the swing kept moving without needing any force to push it. Your eyes darted around thinking someone was playing a prank. Your breathing became erratic when you found no one there.

The air left your lungs when you caught the glimpse of a silhouette sitting on the swing. You didn't see anyone moving. The person appeared out of nowhere.

You tried to pretend, tried to calm your frightened self. With the little lighting around the playground, you made out that the shadow was of a man. You kept looking at him until he turned his face slightly revealing his side face.

You had no owl eyes but the fact you could see him in so much dark was unnerving. As if the person wanted you to see them even through the shadows.

With your squinted eyes, you studied the outline of his face. His long hair was draped on his eyes, you could only see his nose and lips.

His plump lips.

The pouty curve of his lips.

Your heart fell, the flashes of the plump lipped boy coming back. Your fear and anxiety soared at the return of those needling instances from childhood.

You scrambled back in your room and into the bathroom and locked it. You splashed the harsh cold water on your face to reawaken yourself. Reawake from the nightmare if it was. You had to stop this.

You inhaled and exhaled feeling the sensation of pearly drops of ice cold water and tears falling from your face.

You stared at the reflection in the mirror. No, you couldn't let the dark tendril creep in your head again. No.

You had to stop thinking of him.

You had to stop thinking of Jimin.

Yet you hear it.

You hear the ringing.

The jinglings of the little bells that adorned your little keychain.

Your keychain.

It had a black cat with crosses on both eyes and little red beads along with tiny sonorous bells.

You had begged your mother to buy it for you on Halloween eve.

Your eyes had brightened and your mouth widened in awe as your liitle self played and dangled it in your hand.

You would carry it everywhere with you.

You loved the keychain.

Until Jimin took it.

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

Jimin went to the same preschool as you.

He was a cute boy and wanted to be friends with you.

But because he was a cute boy, your teacher had dodged your rose and took his on teacher's day.

He was a cute boy but you didn't like him.

While making the sandfort, he would come to sit beside you but you would puff your cheeks in annoyance and move away from him.

You even swatted his tiny hands off when he'd tried to touch your fort or your drawings.

"Y/N, why don't you want to be my friend?"

"Because I don't like you."

"But I like you." He murmured on the verge of criying. Doe eyes welling up with tears and his trembling pouty lips.

He'd always be behind you and try to join you in activities but you would huff-puff and turn your back to him.

Once the teacher had instructed you all to make ornaments using little beads. You were engrossed in making a bracelet when someone lightly patted your shoulder.

You looked up to see Jimin holding a pink ring in his hand. He held it out for you.

"Y/N, I made a ring for you. Will you take it and be my friend." He said in a baby voice, his cherubic cheeks going pink.

"No!" Your plush face had morphed into anger. "Now, go away!"

His face saddened. With his head hung low, he went back.

Jimin had placed the ring on your desk before going. You couldn't control and took the ring in your hand just to inspect it with furrowed eyes and tight lips.

You actually liked it.

You hid your hands under your desk and wore it in your finger, liking how it adorned your finger.

Jimin didn't need to know that you took this ring because you still didn't want to be his friend.

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

Your school had gone on a trip to a village and the children had lined up near the lake.

You were kept standing for long whilst your teacher gave instructions.

You heard the jingling sound and turned your head to notice Jimin playing with your precious keychain hanging on your zipper.

You spinned around only to be agitated seeing Jimin hold your unhooked keychain.

His plump lips stretched into a smile as he dangled the little cat.

"Give it back!"

You said and stomped your foot while Jimin just blinked at you with his wide eyes.

"Give it back to me!"

You tried to take it back from him but he dodged you moving aside.

"If I give it, will you be my friend?" He asked you, holding your keychain firmly in his hand.

Your nose flared as you latched at him to get your keychain back but he wouldn't let go.

You heard his little chuckles.

"Y/N, it tickles there!" Your prying hands had unknowingky tickled his stomach. His eyes turned into smiling slits.

But he didn't give it to you. Getting overly annoyed, you hands jerked him back, making him accidentally lose his balance and fall in the lake along with your keychain.

Kids screamed and teachers shouted, gathering around you and the villagers were soon sent to heed and rescue Jimin if he sank down in the water.

But they didn't find him.

After that, a barrage of shouts and slaps came your way from yours and Jimin's weeping mother. Shaken and trembling, you stood frozen.They didn't lodge a case against you because you were just four and innocent.

Your innocent mind had not completely gripped on what had happened. But as the years went, you realised you had unintentionally caused an unthinkable tragedy.

Your childhood memories soared.

The fact that you had taken away a life just for a insignificant keychain made you nauseous and loathe yourself.

You regretted not befriending Jimin. The poor boy just wanted your friendship.

You would curl up in your bed at night, fed up with the condescending voices in your head. You would even hear the sweet whispers of Jimin as if he was right beside you. And that would scare you to no end.

Your cries and screams had become consistent during the nights.

You were sent to your aunt and attended regular therapy sessions for a couple of years. That had helped you to seek redemption and unwrap yourself from the dark veils of childhood that had binded you. The whispers had gone.

You started to write. Finding nothing more interesting than horror genre. Because you could relate and revel in it. You could wallow in it to forget your ugly past.

And now that everything had been resolved, the memory of him returned back.

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

You couldn't conclude whether your mind was playing tricks or you had actually seen a ghost. His ghost.

The ringing sound came again and you turned toward the door contemplating whether to open it or not.

This was the part you hated where the characters; despite knowing the danger was waiting for them; gave themselves away out of sheer and stupid curiosity, thrill and bravery.

And you were exactly doing that.

You unlocked the door and slowly walked to your room, the faint blue light spread in the room from your laptop screen. It was eerily quiet here.

With brisky steps, you walked to the switches to turn on the lights. But you stopped when you heard a beep from your laptop as it lit up brightly. You dumbly ran to it to check if you got any emails from publishers.

You sat down and opened your mail. But you hadn't received any. You proceeded to shut down the desktop and that was when your eyes caught the thing that sat beside your laptop on the table.

Your keychain

The same one you had lost.

The screen went black and your body paralysed with terror in the darkness of the room.

Your frozen eyes pooled with tears when you felt the husky voice near your ear.

"Y/N, I know you accepted my ring. Now you are my friend, right?"

The whispers had returned back.

Main Masterlist

A/N : Happy Jimin Day!!!!! I've written this little fic for spooktober as well as for jimintober. Idk, this idea came up when I too heard the sound of swing ( but the children were really playing) and since then the scary scenario was pooping in my brain so I had to write it. Idk if the childhood perspective makes sense. Lol.

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angelsyd · 6 months

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Lurker | jjk (sp)

pairing: jeon jungkook x reader

genre: college student!reader x stalker!jungkook, dark, angst, bsf!jungkook x reader, light smut, slight Taehyung x reader,

summary: jungkook has been your best friend since your first year of college. Things begin to turn weird when you start to feel eyes behind your back whenever he's not around.

word count:

warnings: stalking, mature themes, blood, manipulation, cursing, death, knifes, entitlement,

notes: this is my first ever fic on here and i'm so excited! hopefully you guys like it. i wrote down this concept a long time ago and now i'm finally writing it. <3

______

You're sitting on your couch attempting to study for an upcoming math exam when you get a call from your best friend, jeon jungkook. You both met in your freshman year of college because you happened to sit next to him during class and he joined you for lunch in the dining hall. Ever since then you've been inseparable.

“Hey, are you busy?” Jungkook chirped through the phone.

“Unfortunately” you huffed. “I have this stupid algebra test next week that I need to study for”

“Just wing it like i always do, it works for me” he chuckled at your misery.

“Unlike you Jeon, I actually need good grades” you match his playful condescending tone.

You heard the creak of his bed as he got up. “Well, whatever, I'm coming over,” he announced, then hung up the call.

Even though you were supposed to be doing your school work, you couldn't help but smile at the fact that he's coming over to see you. You could use some time away from your computer and useless assignments. You lift yourself off the couch into the kitchen to go grab some snacks for when he gets here.

You and Jungkook are lying on the couch with your legs over his lap. You trace your forefinger over the outline of his tattoos while you watch the second season of The Summer I Turned Pretty.

“Seriously, who the fuck names their kid Belly?”

You smack him over the head with a pillow. “It's short for Isabel!”

“Then just call her that!” he laughed.

You guys begin to settle down and continue watching when your phone buzzes from your back pocket. You reach down and open a text from Tae, the guy you met on campus a couple weeks ago. He was a really attractive guy, almost majestic looking, with curled brown locks that contrasted jungkook's sleek raven mane.

Tae messaged you asking if you were free this Friday because he wanted to take you to a new kbbq restaurant down the street. As you start typing a reply, you see Jungkook take notice and lean towards the screen.

He reads the message and quirks up a questioning eyebrow. “Who's that?”

You can sense a strong worry sensation coming off from him. He's always been pretty protective of you and around guys who show interest. But you think it's due to him seeing you as the little sister he's never had. And it warmed your heart to think that he felt that way.

“Oh him? We met weeks ago and we started talking pretty soon after that” You smiled thinking about it.

“Cool” Jungkook replied dryly. He turned back toward the tv with a blank expression plastered on his face.

You wanted to console and reassure him that Taehyung was a really sweet guy who treats you like a princess, even though we're not even officially dating yet. But you decide otherwise and continue watching Belly fuck up for the millionth time.

Midnight comes and it's time for Jungkook to return home. His mood seemed to get progressively better as the night went on and he started talking to you like normal again.

“I wish I could spend the night, but I got class in the morning” He frowns standing in the doorway.

“Don't worry about it Jeon, get some sleep” you say, patting his cheek in a caring jest.

You both bid your goodnights and you began cleaning up the mess of blankets and cushions on the couch. You pick up all the stray popcorn that landed on the couch during your fits of laughter and tickle fights initiated by Jungkook. You made your way over to the kitchen sink to wash the dishes, attempting to scrub the butter off the clear bowl.

clink

The quietness of your apartment made the sound seem ten times louder. You turn around from the sink and peer around the room. You didn't see anything out of the ordinary so you return to cleaning, wiping down the countertops.

clink clink

You turned your head sharply towards the noise again. It was coming from the screen door. You silently cursed yourself for deciding to live on the first floor. As you continued staring at the door, for some unknown reason you felt a big wave of fear come over your body, as if you were being watched.

#jungkook #jjk x reader #bts #fanfic #fanfiction #jungkook x reader #taehyung #taehyun x reader #dark x reader #bangtan #bts x reader #jeon jungkook #stalker #sneek peak #spooktober #jjk smut #dark fic #kpop #jeon jungkook x reader

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fuckyeah-beringandwellsfics · 6 months

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🎃 13 👻 spooky 🧛🏻 Bering and Wells 🧟 fic 🩸 recs! ☠️

Here is a list (under the readmore, ordered from short to long) of spooky and/or Halloween-themed fics: short ones and long ones, AUs and casefics, something for everyone! Feel free to add your favorites in reblogs or replies!

Bite Me (858 words) by @tigerkid14 Chapters: 1/1 Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Summary: Kinktober 2017 prompt: biting; Myka and Helena were apparently affected by a copy of Bram Stoker's Dracula and have a chat in the aftermath.

I have wanted to know you, lover of books (1463 words) by @purlturtle Chapters: 1/1 Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence Summary: Honestly I love the "I didn't know where else to go" trope, and this morning I had an undeniable inspiration - I've teased vampire!Helena before, but this is a different vampire!Helena. Then again, can there ever be enough vampire!Helenas? No there can't, so here we go. (also available as a podfic!)

Halloween (1493 words) by @madronash Chapters: 1/1 Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Summary: Created for Bering and Wells Appreciation Week 2022, Day Three: Special Occasions/Holidays/etc. Could also be called Fright Night: Fake Blood

Dreadful Tower (2042 words) by @nerdsbianhokie Chapters: 1/1 Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Summary: Half-living animatronics, a fear of drowning, and a Jenga tower. A fun night off for the Warehouse agents.

I Ain't Afraid of No… Artifact? (5298 words) by @amtrak12 Chapters: 1/4 Rating: General Audiences Summary: The Ghostbusters meets the Warehouse 13 team! or Three Times it was an artifact and One Time it was actually a ghost. Includes background Toltzmann and Erin cluelessly being really gay for Myka.

Dawn of the Dragonborn: Heart of a Hero, Heart of a Predator, Heart of Dovahkiin (8907 words) by @tryingthisfangirlthing Chapters: 5/? Rating: Explicit Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence Summary: A vampire. A Dragonborn. Two women, a little in love. Coffee? Mead? Or maybe save the world… M'aiq'a is an investigative agent for the Penitus Oculatus, the Emperor's personal bodyguard, sent to Skyrim to try and figure out what's behind these damned vampire attacks that killed her foster brother. Hlenea, clutching an ancient scroll and beset by gargoyles, is the woman she quite literally unearths, sought after by vampires and hunters alike. 'Beware of becoming the very thing you despise' has never been more true. Never mind falling for one… But centuries of unlife make for layers of secrets, and trust is hard to come by. The world is running out of time, and they will both have larger roles to play than either of them ever wanted…

Nightmare Warehouse (11709 words) by @anandabrat and @starshipblueberry Chapters: 14/14 Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Summary: Once upon a time, like two weeks ago, starshipblueberry said I’ve got this idea about Nightmare Before Christmas and Bering and Wells, and I said, “That’s a fabulous idea. Can we Good Omens it?” So we wrote in patchwork, one day each trading off. We weren’t supposed to peek. It was supposed to be like Christmas. That didn’t even last a day. We texted each other back and forth for hours. We left each other breadcrumb trails to follow or ignore. We thought we had the ending sorted out like five different times before we actually wrote it.

Transient (38674 words) by @tantedrago Chapters: 14/14 Rating: Mature Warnings: Major Character Death Summary: AU: H.G. Wells wakes up in a house without knowing who she is. Slowly, she realises that people can't see her and don't react to her: Helena is a ghost. The literature professor Myka Bering buys her house. As the American moves in, HG slowly falls in love with her. But there is still this problem with her being dead and unnoticable to other people. But with Miss Bering, something is different.

Aye, Zombie (57793 words) by @ifourmindbeso Chapters: 13/13 Rating: Mature Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con Summary: Bering and Wells Zombie AU. Set in Northern Ireland during the Troubles, but in another universe where the Good Friday agreement never happened. What if Myka was the former villain? This is the result of a particularly vivid dream of mine, which may or may not have been aided by large doses of (prescribed) painkillers. So if it reads like a bad trip…that’s why. Trigger warnings for pretty much everything you can imagine - violence, assault. Also, lots of swearing.

What Goes Around Comes Around (That Halloween Story) (61467 words) by @purlturtle Chapters: 13/13 Rating: General Audiences Summary: Myka rolled her eyes at him – but she couldn’t be mad at him for long. Steve was way too good a friend to begrudge a bit of teasing. “Shut up,” she said, but her heart wasn’t in it. “You did save the damsel in distress. And her baby.” “Shut up,” Myka repeated, this time with a bit more oomph behind it. “There are worse meet-cutes, you know. Wait till Claudia hears of this; she’ll heart-eye all over it.” “Shut up!” Myka laughed.

The Courtship of Christina's Mother (73987 words) by @jdaydreamer3 Chapters: 5/5 Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Summary: Myka Bering is content with her life as it is. A well-respected architect of a flourishing business. She doesn't have time for love. Or so she thought. Then fate steps in and knocks on her door in the form of Helena Wells and her daughter Christina. Love is inevitable.

Illustrated Misdeeds (99633 words) by Felix_27 Chapters: 18/18 Rating: Not Rated Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Summary: Post Season 5. Myka, Pete and Helena have been reunited for their first mission in some time. Tension is a little high as the artifact chase has them following a familiar traveling carnival that has desires of its own with horrible consequences.

Death, or something like it (104700 words) by @ifourmindbeso Chapters: 26/26 Rating: Mature Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence Summary: Sheriff Myka Bering lives in a small town in Mississippi. Children are dying in the most horrible way possible, and she has no idea why - until she meets the vampire. The vampire who senses something different about Myka. Suddenly, nothing in Myka's life makes sense, and she faces a battle to save her town from a wave of darkness - from both within and without.

#bering and wells #bering & wells #warehouse 13 #wh13 #w13 #myka bering #helena g wells #helena wells #2023 #october 2023 #spooktober #halloween fic recs #spooky fic recs #halloween #zombies vampires and werewolves oh my

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asnowfern · 7 months

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Turning Darkness Into Light

Summary: When ghost-seeing Elain moves into the flat Lucien has been haunting, she has only two rules for him: 1. They are not friends 2. He is not allowed to enter her bedroom

This is how Lucien breaks both of them. Rating: E, NSFW WC: 5.7k Read on AO3

A/N: Happy @lucienweekofficial!!! Written for the Day 7: Free Day prompt. Or in which I make up a lot of nonsensical rules about being a ghost. Enjoy!

“Good morning to all my lovely listeners! It looks to be another beautiful day in Velaris! We have a great show for you today-“

Lucien tunes out the radio blaring out of the open window from the apartment next door, the noise steadily sinks into the ether as he glides further away into the bedroom tucked into the corner.

Another beautiful day, it said.

Another day, another week, another month, another year. Lucien barely even knows what year it is anymore, having lost track after the first five years or so. Five years after getting murdered in cold blood in their sleep in the same apartment he now haunts. Despite the years that passed and his other memories fade, Lucien still remembers that night in chilling detail.

Being awakened from a silenced shot, splattered with blood, Jes’s face permanently locked in a faux peaceful expression as a bullet cleanly ran through her warm, giving heart and stopped it from ever beating again. Cold, pitiless eyes pinned him down as the gunman turned his pistol on him, his words lodging into his shocked brain for the rest of time.

“Courtesy of the Forest Corp”

Lucien appeared as a disembodied spirit soon after.

He took sole comfort for years in the fact that he woke up alone, that even though he was the reason she died, Jes at least passed peacefully. Well, as peacefully as one could be after getting murdered. If he had to spend the rest of eternity floating around as a bitter, regretful ghost, he didn’t curse the same for the love of his life.

It didn't take long before Lucien realised that being a ghost is exceedingly boring. One would think that being a vengeful ghost is more exciting. But alas, the media lies. Instead, he is trapped in a limited radius around his block. Unable to communicate, unable to touch anything physically and unable to do anything. It took him a total of three days of wandering before he returned to his apartment, which had already been cleaned up and cordoned off.

In another five days, his stuff was cleaned out. In another month, a new unassuming tenant had moved in. A grouchy man in his fifties who despite his age, was quite terrified of the supernatural - something Lucien noted with mild amusement.

Many tenants came and left over the years. Some left organically, some moved out in a hurry, their pupils shifted around in panic while Lucien snorted at the side.

So, yes. Being a ghost is boring. What else is there other than messing with assholes who still had the privilege of living, of being able to feel the rush of the warm essence of life running through their veins and yet did nothing to deserve it?

Nothing much, apparently.

Still, Lucien stays. After all, there aren’t many places to go.

The door clicks open in a distance, followed by the scuffle of cardboard boxes scraping against wooden floors and feminine sighs of exertion. It takes another few more minutes of more boxes being pushed through the door before the wooden door shuts with a thud and keys drop to the floor in a jangle.

Time to meet the new neighbour, he thinks as he passes through the wall and locks gazes with dark brown eyes. Beautiful chocolate eyes widen slightly and annoyance flashes through delicate features. The flush on cheeks from the physical exertion deepen as rosebud mouth huffs, the action bounces soft golden brown curls framing her face.

She is gorgeous. So gorgeous that she stole his non-existent breath.

Then the muscle at her jaw ticks as realisation strikes and she grumbles, “I knew the rental of this place was too good to be true.”

His new beautiful flatmate can see ghosts.

Well, that’s a first.

===

Lucien freezes, his cold form is completely still as he processes her words. It cracks and pushes him back into motion when she speaks again with a perfectly arched brow, “What? Is this the first time you’ve met someone with the Sight?”

Despite everything, old habits from decades past surges as he throws her a playboy grin, “Not one as gorgeous as you.”

For a beat, silence ruled the space. Then she erupts into laughter, a melodic sound that blesses ears of the dead.

“Well, I guess a flirt isn’t the worst I have encountered.” She says after the outburst. She picks up a box and moves deeper into the room, presumably to make space for more boxes to come.

Lucien shoves down the pointless instinct to step towards her and offer aid. Instead, he remains where he is and leans casually against the wall to ask, “so what is the worst you’ve encountered?”

She shrugs noncommittally, never stopping in her tracks as she flits through boxes, replying loftily, “Never you mind.” She whips out a slim phone from the back pocket of fitted jeans and begins tapping at it, the clacking sound of her nails against tempered glass fills the room. She clicks the screen into darkness and rests it on one of the boxes. Finally, she focuses those doe-like eyes on him, the gaze is sharp even as she keeps her tone light, “Still, if this arrangement is to work out, we are going to need to have some rules.”

His new neighbour wastes no time in laying down the law on him and somewhere between a couple of trips down to the van, the two of them come to an agreement of two basic rules to live by.

There will be no conversations or “heart to hearts”. They are just flat shares, not friends.

To make coexisting easier, she will spend most of her time at home in the bedroom, which he is in no uncertain terms allowed to enter her bedroom

Any violations of the above will result in Elain exorcising Lucien into nothingness.

And that is also how they learnt of each other’s names.

Lucien realises rather quickly that life with a living person who can see him, even one as stunning as Elain Archeron, can still be just as boring. In fact, it is even more boring as he can’t even mess with his living tenant.

Nope, he’s learnt his lesson after he repeatedly walked through the oven and ruined a perfectly proofed loaf of sourdough. The entire flat is soon randomly laced with a sort of purified salt that burns the spirit and transforms the space into a landmine. He is fairly sure the smirk Elain gave him as she waved him out the door would, ironically, haunt him for some time.

He got the hint: Never mess with Elain’s baking. Ever.

===

Rule 2: Lucien is in no uncertain terms allowed to enter Elain’s bedroom

Lucien lays flat on his back. If he closes his eyes, he can almost feel the cool surface of the stone flooring pressing into his skin. He can entrench himself in the distant street noises, pretending just for a moment that he is out there, coming home after a drink with friends, that he exists.

A loud hollow sound cuts through the air, screaming for attention. It pulls him out of his reverie and back into nothingness. He frowns as he moves towards the source: a malfunctioning electric kettle searing its way through the metal plates. Acrid smoke rises from the appliance as it continues to wail.

Elain. The mere thought of her dying in this apartment, all that light snuffed out, sends a streak of panic through him.

Urgency pulls him to the bedroom door and with a sharp inhale that he doesn’t need, Lucien bursts into Elain’s room where said girl is fast asleep in bed.

“Elain!” He exclaims firmly, his hands flail in the air and plunges into her abdomen. Elain inhales sharply, body shooting upright. Chocolate brown pupils swivel around the room wildly before landing on him.

“Lucien,” she hisses, her fist is closed tightly as she raises it next to her face. It wavers in the air as she brandishes it threateningly at him, “what are you doing in here?”

He simply informs flatly, “Your kettle is on the verge of catching fire.”

She stills for a moment before she bolts, the screams of the kettle echo throughout the quiet flat. Lucien watches on helplessly as a slender arm rushes to yank the plug out of the socket and silences the appliance. It hisses and envelopes them in smog when Elain douses it with water. Her button nose wrinkles as she grimaces at the smell.

The ghost turns his gaze on the living as the air slowly clears out. He feels the edges of his lips lift into an amused smile as he takes in her dishevelled appearance. Dressed in an oversized shirt and shorts, her golden brown curls are mussed and balled into a large bird's nest while dried drool streaks across her cheek. She looks adorable.

Sensing the gaze, her body rotates slowly towards him. Her brow raises in question as her head tilts slightly.

He shakes his head slightly. Gesturing to his cheeks, he comments dryly, “You have a little something here.”

Perplexed, she raises a hand to her cheek. His traitorous heart squeezes as rose pink dusts her cheeks at the realisation. She scowls while walking to the sink and gently rinses the marks off her face.

Without another word, Lucien retreats. Just in case, she gets her hands on more salt, only to be stopped when she calls out.

“Lucien,” he turns to meet soft, round eyes, “thank you.”

Something that has long laid dormant twinges in him. It’s warm and sings in his chest like a gentle flame. He ignores it, saying instead, “I’m not keen to share this flat with you forever.”

Elain snorts and enters the room.

===

Rule 1: There will be no conversations or “heart to heart”. We are not friends.

Something between them changed after that night. Elain’s glares at him are no longer as scathing. She laughs and scowls playfully at his sarcastic remarks and throws back quips of her own. With every night, the figurative and literal distance between them reduces.

Still, it catches him as a surprise when she swings into the fire escape one evening, settling next to him. Their bodies are so close that he could almost feel the faint heat radiating from her body. Again, something in him twinges in regret - at what is there, yet is not.

They sit in silence for a while, content to just watching the traffic below, people getting about their lives.

“Why did you never cross the border? All these years? Is it out of vengeance or regret?” Her question comes out quietly. It drifts into the peaceful night of Velaris, just waiting, never rushing.

He lets his own response fade into the city. “I take it you found out what happened to me.”

She shuffles uncomfortably. “There has only ever been one fatal incident reported in this building.” Her expression is regretful and almost pained as she continues, “The double homicide of Lucien and Jesminda Vanserra.”

It surprises him at how little he feels at the words, at the mention of his long dead love. There is no bitterness or regret. Just a sort of numbness that he has long been accustomed to before the belle next to him walked through the door.

He shrugs, leaning back slightly to rock on his palms, “Well, then there you have it.” He pauses a beat. “Did they report who was responsible?”

This time. The reply nearly brings him to his knees.

“Yes. Beron Vanserra was arrested months later for the deaths. He was sentenced to life in prison.” Again, her eyes are sorrowful, the usual brightness in them dimmed.

“He, no” he corrects himself quietly, shaking his head as he marvels at the truth, “they did it. They actually arrested him.”

She nods, looking back out to the streets beneath, as if she needs to distance herself from the news she is imparting. “They said it was your mother’s testimony that sealed the case. She and your brother provided all the evidence needed to charge him. No amount of money or clout could protect him.”

Lucien tips his head back as a weight lifts from him. His laugh bubbles out in incredulous, surprised shudders. His mother’s beautiful face comes to mind. Her gentle kindness and tenderness, her quiet strength that his father evidently was never able to beat out of.

For the first time in many, many years, Lucien cries tears that he doesn’t know he still possesses. They stream down his face with a tingling chill.

With a single sentence, Elain has opened the door to years of suppressed memories, shedding light on the nothingness he has been existing with. Her face is laced with concern as she looks on from the side, lending him strength with nothing but her glowing presence.

Eventually, the tears stop and though his heart aches, Lucien smiles.

“Thank you, Elain.”

===

Lucien paces the apartment, his eyes wandering to the clock once more as the minute hand strikes the midnight mark.

Tick, tick, tick.

By the next time the second hand moves, Lucien has leapt out of the window and is airborne.

He pushes the boundaries of his immortal prison, traversing the dark skies. Never stopping until russet eyes spot a glint of burnished gold, cornered in a deserted alleyway. His ears pick up latin chants, expertly commanded by a familiar feminine voice.

Elain isn’t the one being cornered.

She is the one cornering others.

She stands tall, her hand is raised to shoulder level, a rosary wound tightly around her palm. She brandishes it at two wailing discombobulated spirits thrashing against an invisible barrier cast by a circle of salt. The force of the exorcism generates a gust of wind that blows her hair back, revealing a fierceness to her that one seldom sees in sweet, gentle Elain Archeron.

Her eyes shimmer as she stares the spirits down, never once stopping the stream of chants. So focused on what lays before her that she neglects to realise a third comrade creeping up behind her. But Lucien does.

He dives down, his feet colliding sharply against the spirit’s head. She screeches, an ugly face twisting into a contortion of grotesque features. The redhead’s back is to the blonde, their eyes met for a brief moment - just long enough for Elain to give him a curt nod.

Lucien springs into action. With a single smooth motion, he steps forward towards the still growling spirit and sucker punches her in the gut. While distracted, he hauls her up and tosses into the ring with her companions. As if on cue, Elain ends the chant and snaps her fingers. Each grain of salt lining the circle explodes and traps them in a closed wall of silver flames. They vanish in a fit of screams.

Elain casually places the rosary back into her bag, her face carefully blank. Only the slightest feathering in her jaw betrays any emotion she might be feeling. She rocks on her heels, tossing a quick glance at him before walking away. Back to the direction of their flat.

Lucien follows suit, sliding forward so that their steps are in time. He observes the tense bite and comments lightly, “So cool side gig you’ve got there.”

Doe eyes shift to him for a brief moment, the movement is skittish like a fawn. She recovers, nodding. Her throat bobs when she replies with a shrug, “Started as self-defence.”

“Ahhh,” his head tilts slightly, his heart twisting at the thought of a young, scared Elain getting terrorised by the dead, “did you run into them often?”

“I did,” she admits, “and eventually, you learn what affects them. Combine them with nonsense from the internet that sometimes does work and voila! Exorcist!”

Something like pride rumbles in his chest. He huffs in amusement as he shakes his head, “Badass, Archeron. Badass.”

She stops in her tracks to look at him with wide eyes. “You don’t think it’s weird?”

He raises a brow, “You do remember you’re talking to a ghost, right?” Seeing the frown beginning to form, he hastily continues, “But it doesn’t change the fact that it must have been terrifying. Yet, you found a way to turn it around, turn it in strength.” He gestures to her with a flourish, “Like I said, badass.”

She looks away, the apples of her cheeks tinged in pink, “You’re the first to say that. So,” she clears her throat, “so thank you.”

Lucien can’t stop a smile from forming.

They walk in a comfortable silence after, with only the taps of Elain’s shoes against the concrete pavement accompanying them. The streets are quiet. A small miniscule number of stars observe from above, twinkling visibly even in the city lights. The tranquillity of the moment is a stark difference from just five minutes ago.

“I found your brother.” Elain starts, her hands wrestling in each other, “the one that helped your mother put him away. Eris. He’s CEO of Forest Corp now.”

He maintains a careful, neutral expression even as something in him stirs uncomfortably, “Oh?”

“I thought you could talk to him. Y’know, get some closure.”

“Why?” He winces internally at the sharp tone. Still, he says dismissively, “He can’t see me. He’s not you.”

This time, he does wince. But he doesn’t take it back, doesn’t apologise. Where is she going with this? Why is she pushing him away?

To her credit, Elain doesn’t flinch. She just continues, “It’s Halloween next week. The festivities may be fake but it is still the day when the veil between worlds narrows. There are… ways to make you visible.”

He might have stopped breathing even if he didn’t need to, “Why?”

“You’ve seen them. What happens when spirits remain too long.” His mind easily flashes to the trio from earlier, “You are remarkably fresh for someone who has been around for so long. It wouldn’t last.”

A presence haunts her eyes but it goes away with a blink. “I don’t want to lose you like that. I can’t lose you like that.” Her eyes finish what her words can’t.

Even if it means losing what we have today.

“I’ll think about it.”

What if I tell you that you’ve made me feel more myself than I have been in years?

===

Rule 2: Lucien is in no uncertain terms allowed to enter Elain’s bedroom (again)

The words stay with him throughout the night and most of the day after. When Elain comes home from work, she doesn’t bring it up, doesn’t push. They chat as they usually do. He laughs, she laughs. It’s like they never had the conversation.

Later in the night, Lucien leans back. The radio that Elain leaves on for him is seated next to him, chattering away. He mindlessly hums to the tunes.

Then he hears it. In between the beats of the song.

A pained moan. Coming from Elain’s room.

Lucien hovers outside, unsure if he should say something.

Tick, tick, tick.

“Lucien!”

He passes through but doesn’t approach any further. Every thought eddies from his mind as he stares dumbstruck.

Elain is leaning back against a stack of pillows. Her sleeping shorts and panties lay discarded on the ground. Her face is caught in ecstasy as one hand fists the bedsheet and the other is fingers deep within her.

When brown eyes shakily open, it meets blazing russet. The moment drags as conflict wars within expressive moons. After the torturous beat, it fades, leaving nothing but desire in its place. Rosebud lips pull up into a smile so sinful he thinks it might just be worth going to Hell for. Elain lets her hand fall limply as her legs spread open further, glistening with her release.

Fuck him.

“All of that at the mere thought of me?” He says huskily as he approaches. His entire being trembles in anticipation.

“Are you going to help me take it further?” She tilts her chin up in challenge, leveling him with a devilish smirk.

She shrugs off her shirt over his head to reveal pert nipples. She locks them in a heavy gaze as her fingers start to move back to her centre, gliding over the swollen clit.

He is naked with a single thought. He gives himself a long, drawn out pump, savouring every darkening shade of brown pupils. He stops at the foot of the bed, his voice drops an octave as he asks silkily,“Have you been imagining those are my fingers? Thicker, longer, rougher?”

She whimpers. A sound so sweet to his ears. She breathes, “Yes”

A guttural sound involuntarily escapes his throat and he orders, “Then plunge them in. As deep as you can.”

Elain moans loudly as she complies, disappearing three fingers inside her at once. He moves his hand in time with hers, matching her stroke for stroke. He savours every whimper, every pant.

“That’s it, such a good girl.” he purrs, chocolate brown seizes russet. He lets go of the aching appendage in favour of lightly caressing the highly sensitive bud, not quite touching but just enough. He is rewarded when her hips buck involuntarily into a ghostly hand, mouth shapes into a perfect ‘o’ as she gasps at the sensation.

His finger continues to rub circles, learning from every sound that falls out of that perfect mouth. He quickly settles into a rhythm that has Elain panting loudly, her breaths quicken with her fingers, edging her closer and closer to her climax.

“Come for me, Elain.”

Watching Elain ride herself through her release is the closest Lucien will ever get to a religious experience. Her beautifully flushed cheeks, her lips are parted slightly as her eyes glaze with lust. A temptress and a Goddess both at once. He couldn’t help himself but slant his lips over hers in yet another light touch - the only thing he could do.

“Beautiful” he whispers as he commits this image to his eternal afterlife, “absolutely beautiful.” Elain’s lips tremble as they curve up into an apprehensive smile. Then, she pushes herself off the bed and towards the bathroom.

Lucien is by the door when she returns, their bodies are inches apart when she passes through the doorway. The proximity tingles and pulls at something in his chest. But he forces himself to tear his gaze away and turn in the opposite direction to leave.

“Stay”

Her face is soft and pleading. Her hand reaches out to him before she stops herself and draws it to her chest. She shakes her head slightly and determination overtakes her face. “Stay,” she repeats firmly, as sure as day.

He follows her back to bed, gingerly lying against the soft surface. She turns to her side to face him, waits as he does the same. They’re so close. His body tingles again as something within hums in content.

“I can’t lose you.” She confesses in a quiet whisper, “Please.”

Everything in him wants to touch her, tuck the stray strand away, stroke her cheek, hold her. Goddamn, he wants to hold her so bad it hurts. He clenches his fist by his side, desperate to hold it at bay.

He shakes his head, smiling sadly. “You’ll lose me anyway.”

She glares at him. Those same rosebud lips shaped into a petulant pout. “It’s not the same and you know it.”

He laughs in a low rumble though he knows it doesn’t quite reach his eyes when he finally relents, “Okay, let’s set up the meet.”

===

Time has passed all too quickly before Elain is in front of him using a chalk to trace a large white circle on the living room floor. An old tattered book lays open before her. The brunette extracts a stone of pure obsidian from her pocket, never once pausing or stopping as she recites from the ancient text.

Not even as the air surrounding him thickened to a point where it is nothing but suffocating smog. It is a strange sensation. The air eventually visibly returns but the heaviness continues to drag him down. Still, it is only then that Elain relents. Her voice dies down with the wind, her raised hand drops to her side. She staggers, her body sways with exhaustion. Yet determined eyes fix him a questioning stare. Did it work?

Lucien reaches his hand forward, towards Elain’s slender fingers. His heart feels more alive, pounding and dragging as they get closer and closer. Until…

His fingers pass through warm flesh.

The space between his brows knot in disappointment. Before he returns Elain’s gaze, Lucien dashes downstairs: out of the privacy of their apartment and into the eyes of the public.

Careful not to phase through the physical world where people might see, he halts at the sidewalk, a few paces from the entrance.

“Excuse me!” He calls out to a young couple walking past. Incredibly, they turn to him. Taking a breath, he continues to ask, “Do you happen to know if the Happy Fiddle cafe is near here?”

He watches in amazement as they politely shake their heads and continue forward. Heaving a soft exclamation of triumph, he returns to the flat.

“Where did you manage to find that book?” He asks in bewilderment after he imparts the good news.

Elain simply grins mischievously as she slots said book into her drawer, “I know people.”

The plan is simple. Lucien might be visible to everyone but he is still trapped within the same radius of the flat. Nowhere near the Forest Corp office building. Elain had instead been able to track down Eris’s email contact, sending him a carefully worded message. A harmless sentence that only the Vanserra heir would pick up on.

As they say, Mr Vanserra, only the foxes in the autumn forest could run the fastest?

Predictably, Eris, who still never fails to put his family first, rings the doorbell at seven pm sharp.

Just as the email indicated.

The Forest Corp CEO walks through the door, levelling Elain a cold, assessing gaze. And Lucien has to resist the urge to rush forward towards his brother.

Eris has aged gracefully, barely looking like his true age of fifty. His sharp features could still bring him the attention of any female or male he wanted. Yet, it is the slight peppering of grey in his hair and the dignified lines that trace his face that really punches Lucien in the gut. The clear reminder that time has moved for the people in his life. That where he remained unmoving, forever lost to time, the people in his life hadn’t.

“Congratulations, you’ve gotten my attention.” Eris says mockingly to Elain, his amber eyes flash dangerously, “What are you going to do with it?”

To her credit, Elain meets his cold stare unflinchingly. The edges of her mouth lift into a flat polite smile, asking instead, “What do you know of the afterlife, Mr Vanserra?”

Eris bristles, his brows crease with annoyance. His body language shifts minutely into one Lucien is intimately familiar with. So he interjects, stepping forward from the shadows, “What she means to say, Eris, is do you believe in ghosts?”

Amber eyes widen in shock as Eris stares wide eyed at the ghost of his little brother, stunned into immobility for a full thirty seconds. It is only when Elain leaves the apartment with a subtle nod from Lucien that he springs into action.

“How dare you?” He seethes, his handsome features contorting in rage. He steps towards Lucien, extending his hand to roughly grab at his collar, only to grasp air in its place.

“What the hell?” The older Vanserra cusses under his breath, immediately looking around for a projector. Something, anything to explain the apparent presence of his dead brother in his old residence.

“It’s really me, Eri.” He says gently, raising his hands up in platitude. “No tricks. I never left.”

Indecision tears at Eris, disbelief waging war on an inerasable pain. He says quietly, “Foxes run fastest in the autumn forest.”

“But only as a pack can they do so.” Lucien finishes softly. Amber eyes finally meet russet. It stirs distant memories of a scared young boy running into the arms of his older brother, memories of days where nightmares could be banished with a favoured fairytale.

Eris falls forward, his hand grips tightly at the corner of the doorway to hold himself up. “Luci? How?”

He shrugs, “An exorcist moved in”

He raises his brow in scepticism, “Elain Archeron? Huh.” He continues at Lucien’s questioning look, “I know her older sister. It’s the reason why I showed up.”

Huh.

The two brothers fell into an awkward silence.

Then they both predictably try to break it at the same moment.

“So” / “I need to know why, Eris.”

Eris’s throat bobs and his jaw sets in locked tension. He doesn’t ask further, doesn’t need to. Even after two decades, he still knows his youngest brother. He could only say bitterly, “he had a bad day.”

Everything stills as Lucien processes it. His throat tightens uncomfortably. “What?” He forces the question out, his voice rising with every word. “He sent killers to murder my wife and I in cold blood because he had a bad day?”

Eris says nothing. A myriad of pain and regret clouding his face.

“What about the Vanserra pride? And honour?” He spits venomously, “All that talk growing up and he sends assassins to kill us in our sleep?”

“Word of your marriage finally reached him. He was livid.”

“Why?! Because Jes didn’t come from the old lines? What? Because she’s not rich so she’s unworthy?!”

Something nags at him even as he spits out question after question, that he was missing something critical. Something confirmed in the uncertainty in Eris’s face. Because Eris is never uncertain. He lies and manipulates but he is never, never unsure. So Lucien asks directly, “What are you not telling me?”

Then it fades as his mouth sets in a grim line. “You’re not his son.”

“What?”

Eris doesn’t repeat himself, instead choosing to let Lucien work it out. His brain struggles to piece together memories from long ago, left behind even before he was killed. Finally, the pieces fit.

“I was never meant to be happy.” He surmises quietly.

“No,” Eris agrees, “he never would have allowed it.”

A hysterical laugh starts to build in his chest. It claws and rages to escape. He tries to rein it in but it comes out as a desperate sob.

Eris’s hand trembles at his side, it jerks once or twice towards him. As if the older Vanserra wanted nothing more than to pull his brother into a hug. “I’m sorry. I should have found out sooner. I should have found a way to warn you… but it was all too late by the time I realised there was a hit out on you.”

Lucien shakes his head, “I don’t blame you. Never did. Besides, you helped put him away.”

This time, Eris smiles. Cold and vengeful. “Best moment of my life.”

Lucien snorts. Of that, he has no doubt.

That bastard deserved it.

===

Lucien stands before Elain as the clock continues to tick down to twelve. Every year he felt the pull to the beyond but every year, he ignored it. This year, the pull will be impossible to resist and he knows it.

Knew it the moment Eris left. No, knew it the moment Elain told him what happened to Beron.

He throws a glance at the clock. Two minutes.

“Elain”

She turns those expressive, rich brown eyes on him and Lucien is gone. The pain, the acceptance but at the same time, the pride. Everything is laid clear for Lucien to see and it wrenches at him.

“Thank you,” he says, his voice thick with emotion, “for bringing me back to life. I was so lost before and I didn’t even know it.” He brings one hand towards her face, cupping it impulsively. Incredibly, they make contact. The feel of her skin, soft and warm underneath his. She closes her eyes and leans into the touch.

“Thank you,” she says, opening to reveal teary eyes, “for bringing joy and humour to my life. I don’t think I ever realised how lonely I was… before you.”

He strokes a thumb and wipes away a fallen tear. He brings his face closer and leans in to capture her lips. There is a gasp before Elain returns it fiercely. They meet each other, tongue for tongue, teeth for teeth. Every emotion they have left to convey, laid bare at their feet.

They kiss until the pull tugs at Lucien again. Hard and insistent. Reluctantly, he breaks contact. His forehead pressed against hers as he held it back for a final second. Until finally, russet meets brown for the last time as he fades away into a bright, shimmering aureate light.

===

Many, many years into the future

Elain plasters on a polite smile as the suit clad men and women huddle together for a brief discussion. Months and months of blood, sweat and tears have come down to this every moment. Her career is made if they select her proposal.

She keeps on the smile as they thank her and dismiss her with empty promises about reaching out. As she walks out of the boardroom, the door on the other side opens to bring in the next candidate. Her rival. Elain turns over, curious.

Her mind is wiped utterly blank in his presence. His strong stride as he walks towards the presenter’s laptop. She stares, entranced at how his long auburn hair and golden brown skin complements his suit perfectly, how the perfectly tailored suit reveals everything and nothing about the powerful muscles rippling underneath. Even then, it almost pales in contrast when she takes in the strong lines of his face. So beautiful it takes her breath away in the process.

Then he looks up and catches her in her unabashed gawking. Russet eyes blaze into her and pins her in place. But slowly, surely, those sensual lips pull up into a cocky smirk and it knocks Elain back into the boardroom where the receptionist is still holding the door open for her.

Clearing her throat, she feels her cheek warm as she mutters a hasty apology and exits the room. She never looks back again although she knows with a concrete certainty.

Whoever that man is, that will not be the last she sees of him.

End

A/N: If you're curious, Jenna Coleman's Johanna Constantine in Sandman was definitely what I had in mind for exorcist Elain👻

#lucienweek2023 #day 7 : free day #elucien #elucien fic #Lucien Vanserra #Elain Archeron #Elain x Lucien #ghost!lucien #should this be spooktober or kinktober?#maybe abit of both?

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wolfboy88 · 6 months

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Rated: Explicit - 3.7k - M/M - Thiam

Summary:

Liam’s pretty sure he’s figured out what’s going on – his neighbour is a vampire.

But of course, no one believes him.

For Kinktober 2023 Day 19 - Exhibitionism & Voyeurism And Spooktober 2023 - Vampire

#spooktober 2023 #spooktober #kinktober #kinktober 2023 #thiam #teen wolf #thiam fan fic #teen wolf fan fic #vampire theo #theo raeken #liam dunbar #thiam moodboard #a03 #a03 writer

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apinchofm · 6 months

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I'm in the trees, I'm in the breeze

M, Gothic themes, Witch!Kate and Witch!Sophie

Kate Sharma will never regret what she is to do. Her mother always warned about using magic to harm, the danger of upsetting the balance. But she did not care, for he deserves what she had planned.

#bridgerton #bridgerton fic #spooktober #kathony #kanthony fic #well gothic!kathony #kate sharma #edwina sharma #sophie beckett #anthony bridgerton #benophie #new fic who dis #witch lit #witch fic

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jksprincess10 · 6 months

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Devour || Joel Miller x reader Halloween special

You make the grumpy Joel Miller wear a matching couple costume with you on Halloween. He takes it a little too seriously and tries to eat the little red riding hood.

CW: p with very minimal plot, Joel is a grumpy boyfriend, rough sex, dom!joel, brat!reader, bites, spanking, slight pain kink, oral sex (f receiving), rimming and a bit of ass play, pussy slapping and thigh slapping, begging, pet names (darling, little girl), dumb roleplay as teasing.

Divider by saradika

Notification blog

Masterlist

"I look fucking ridiculous."

"No, you don't."

He's wearing one of his red flannels, except it's opened slightly to show some of his chest hair. Joel also has torn up pants that you DIYed and he wears a headband with fuzzy ears on his head. There's also a tail somewhere on his behind glued to a belt.

You, on the other hand, are wearing a short white dress with puffy sleeves and a red hood. You have black socks that go up to your thighs. There's a basket of candy on your arm to hand out to the kids.

Sarah had gone out trick or treating with a friend. So, you both decided to give out candy to the neighborhood kids. What Joel didn't agree to, though, was to dress up.

"Come on, big bad wolf, let's give candy." You tease him.

"You will pay for it." He grumbles.

"Looking forward to it." You wink.

"See? Wasn't too bad. And the kids liked it."

The basket was emptied in a matter of hours. Sarah had also come by and asked if she could stay at her friend's. Joel accepted after lecturing her on how she shouldn't eat too much candy.

Joel sighs and finally starts peeling off his costume like the ridiculousness of it all was physically hurting him. But you stop him, holding his big hands in yours.

"Let me take it off, please." He grumbles.

"No, you're too cute." You tease him.

He pushes you to the nearest wall, holding your hands up your head to stop you. Your breath catches in your throat under the impact.

"You're such a fucking brat." Joel says gruffly. "Maybe I should devour you."

"Nooo, please mister wolf. Don't eat me." You respond in fake panic, trying to hide your smile.

"Shut up."

His teeth scrape against your jaw, your neck. He bites down on your skin softly, making you squirm. Joel presses you harder against the wall, trapping you with his weight.

"I dress up to make you happy. And you're still. Not. Satisfied." He growls, his lips sliding to your cleavage.

A veiny hand tears open the top of your cheap dress, revealing your lacey bra. He pulls your breasts out of their prison, and he lowers his head to lick and bite your nipples. His calloused hands hold your tits up as he curses under his breath.

"So naughty, darlin'." His fingers play with your hard nipples, and you whine under his touch as you press your hips against his, desperate for friction. "So fuckin' easy to please."

You lose it when he falls to his knees in front of you, his fingers sliding down your socks as he leaves kisses and bites on the sensitive skin of your thighs.

"Pull up your skirt." He orders.

You feel ridiculous like this, your breasts falling out and half of your clothes thorn, but you know better than to refuse. You lift the bottom of your dress, looking down at Joel. You see, from the corner of your eye, the shape of his teeth sunken in your flesh in a few places.

He cups your pussy through your panties, feeling just how soaked you are for him.

"You like bein' my meal, baby?"

When you don't respond right away, he slaps your thigh. You yelp, before responding shakily.

"Y-Yes."

"Good. 'Cause I'm far from being done eating."

Joel tears your panties like it's nothing for him, leaving you bare to the air.

"Now, where should I enjoy my meal? Do you wanna lay down, darlin'?"

"Please."

He lifts you up and brings you to the room you share together. He abandons you on your bed. Before you can do anything, he's on his knees again, pulling on your legs to bring you closer to him. Joel licks a long stripe up your pussy and you're so relieved to finally being touched where you needed him most.

"F-fuck, Joel..."

You want to tug on his hair, but you're stopped by his ridiculous fuzzy ears, that you throw on the floor. You tug on his curls, keeping him close. He laps and drinks at you like a man stranded in a desert without water.

“So fucking delicious.” He growls against your cunt, the hot air coming out of his mouth making you shiver.

You’re sweeter than candy and the sounds you make drown him in lust. You protest when you feel the warmth of his mouth leaving you.

“Don’t complain’.” Joel says harshly with a little slap to your swollen pussy. You yelp in surprise and bite your lip as you look down at him.

“M’sorry Mister wolf, please don’t hurt me…”

“Then stop bein’ a fucking brat, darlin’.”

With his strong arms, he manoeuvres your body just like you’re a weightless doll and suddenly, you’re laying on your stomach. He settles behind you and puts his hands under your hips to lift your ass up in the air. Without restraint, he bites into the sensitive flesh of your left cheek, and you can’t help the cry coming out of your mouth. Joel caresses the pain away, before spanking your other cheek harshly. Your eyes roll in the back of your head, all you can feel is the sharp pain and the overwhelming pleasure. You feel yourself getting wetter, and you know he can see it too. With his thick fingers, he spreads your ass and spits in your hole, watching as his saliva slides down to your pussy.

“J-Joel, please…” you whine pathetically. “Please, fuck me with your tongue.”

“You beg so nicely.”

He obliges, the tip of his tongue plunging in your tight pussy hole. He fucks you with it, in and out, tasting your nectar directly from the source. Your legs start shaking and he digs his fingers in the flesh of your thighs to keep you from falling. You come undone ridiculously fast, both from the electric pain from earlier and the pleasure he’s procuring with his mouth.

“Doin’ so good little girl, might spare ya.” He groans against your heat.

He doesn’t stop licking and sticking his tongue in your hole occasionally, his hand going around your thigh so he can draw tight circles on your clit at the same time. You feel dizzy from pleasure.

“F-Fuck…” You curse as you come again in seconds.

You feel him moving away slightly. “Gonna eat your other greedy little hole, baby.”

You know he’s telling you so you can always refuse. Joel never proceeds with anything if he feels you even getting slightly uncomfortable.

“It’s all yours, Joel.”

“Yeah?” He lands a harsh slap on your ass, leaving a bright red trace behind. You moan a little too loudly. Thank God you’re both alone. “You’re just gonna take everythin’ I’m gonna give you.”

He spreads your butt cheeks and plunges without restraint. It feels different, but pleasant. His tongue alternates between circling your tight ring of muscle and licking up and down your crack. Joel inserts two fingers in your pooling heat without much difficulty since you’re so obscenely wet, and he fucks you with his digits relentlessly as he keeps devouring your ass. You’re soaking his fingers in no time in a third blinding orgasm. He lets go of you and your body goes limp. You give yourself a few moments to calm your breathing down, before you get up. Joel looks wild; hair tousled in all directions and his lips swollen and shiny with your juices. You push him down on the bed and straddle his thighs. Your hands undo his shirt with haste, kissing every piece of skin you’re uncovering.

“My turn to eat.” You smile against his skin.

#joel miller #jksprincess10's spooktober #joel miller smut #joel miller x you #joel miller x reader #joel miller x yn #joel miller x y/n #pedro pascal #pedro pascal smut #tlou #tlou fic

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waynes-multiverse · 2 years

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Midnight Mischief

Pairing: Beau Arlen x F!Reader

Summary: Leaving Cassie’s Halloween party, the way home leads to a thrilling detour under the moonlight for Sheriff Arlen.

Warnings: +18, some Halloween shenanigans, fluff, smut (p in v, dirty talk, semi-public)

Word Count: 2.7k

A/N: Little something for Halloween I wrote a few weeks ago to feed my shameless obsession with this man (and keep my excitement for Taylor’s album in check. The Cinderella thing was a happy accident 👀). Enjoy and happy Halloween, my loves! 💜👻🖤🎃

Main Masterlist || More Beau?

“Y/N, wait!”

The cold October wind rustles the red, orange, and golden leaves on the sidewalk, the freezing breeze brushing his skin and stinging his freckle-dusted cheeks and nose until they blush crimson. As Beau halts in the middle of the sidewalk and desperately catches his breath on his knees, the air vaporizes in little clouds of mist as it leaves his hot lungs.

Straightening up and placing his hands on his hips, his green eyes roam the chaotic crowd of adults and children in costumes that surround him, strolling through the neighborhood on their annual trick-or-treating adventure as he looks for the lively woman in a red cape that shamelessly stole his heart. His gaze drifts to the sky, where the full moon stands high, accompanied by a few gray clouds that cover the pale yellow light. They left the party shortly after the clock struck twelve, his date fleeing like Cinderella into the midnight’s shadows.

“BOOOOO!”

Beau startles and almost topples to the pavement when his girlfriend jumps out behind a row of hedges and wraps her arms like a spider around his body. The sweet laughter that reaches his ears is the best sound he’s ever heard in the entire world. If his life had its own movie soundtrack, Y/N’s happy laugh would be the first track without contest. The second track, though, would be her little moans whenever he makes her come, no matter if it’s on his fingers, tongue, or dick. Naturally, that’s his second favorite sound.

“Jesus Christ, Y/N,” he chuckles and runs a palm over his face to hide the temporary shock and embarrassment of her little sneak attack before dipping his head and claiming her lush lips. His tongue catches hints of apple cider and the bourbon they shared earlier at Cassie’s Halloween party as he drinks the taste from her mouth like a parched man. “You’re gonna give me a heart attack, darlin’.”

She giggles, her dimples a blush pink from the cold and the mischief. “You scare pretty easy for someone working in law enforcement,” she teases him and lifts an eyebrow, scanning his tall frame, “I can’t believe you wore your uniform to the party. You know, that doesn’t technically count as a costume.”

“Why not? I’m going as a sheriff,” he quips with a grin and slings his arm around her shoulders, pulling her close to his chest to keep her warm as they continue their stroll home.

“Exactly. That doesn’t count. You’re always the sheriff,” she laughs, pulling her scarlet hood a little more over her head to protect her freezing ears.

“Well, it wouldn’t have mattered. As soon as you revealed that Red Riding Hood costume, no one was looking at me anymore, anyways,” Beau smirks smugly, his juniper orbs twinkling with pride, mischief, and lust as he inconspicuously ogles the swell of her breasts in his periphery, the smooth flesh slightly spilling out of her dress.

Her cheeks blush, but this time it’s not caused by the winter cold. Y/N pulls her lower lip between her teeth and chews flirtatiously on it, “Yeah? You like it?”

Beau lets out a low chuckle, the timbre of his voice rumbling in his chest as he stops and leans closer to her, his hot breath warming the shell of her ear when he whispers, “Oh, the big, bad wolf will show you how much he loved it once we’re home, darlin’.”

Her arms wind around his neck, letting her weight comfortably hang from his broad shoulders as she tiptoes up to his eye level. Y/N then playfully contemplates and grins broadly, “Hmmm, but why wait? A lot can happen in the woods.”

With that, she plants a wet kiss on his lips and grabs his hand, his fingers interlocking with hers as she leads him further down the street at a hurried pace. Beau doesn’t care where she takes him. As soon as he laid eyes on that girl the second they met, he knew he’d follow her anywhere, no matter where – no questions asked.

Well, some questions asked.

“Y/N, uhm, where are-… what are you-…” Leading him to the last house on the street that borders a small forest, she stops right next to a prohibitive sign that’s supposed to fend off trespassers and daringly opens the creaking wooden gate that leads to the backyard. “Y/N, this is private property. We can’t just trespass.”

“Oh my God, you’re such a goody-two-shoes,” Y/N snorts, laughing wholeheartedly, her hood sliding off her head as it dips back. Her teeth hold back her bottom lip, hiding the giant grin behind it as she defiantly steps backward into the front yard. “C’mon, baby, don’t be a chicken. Break the law a little with me,” she wiggles her eyebrows, smirking, and then loosens the ties around her ruby-red hood, the fabric leaving her shoulders and gliding to the wilted grass underneath her boots.

His heart thumps harder in his ribcage, hot blood pumping through his veins and warming his skin despite the freezing cold as his eyes rake over her perfect curves. Beau thought it was impossible to sweat in this weather, but now he knows that truly anything is possible as long as he’s with her. His pine-green orbs watch as she hops into the grown-over garden and disappears in the midnight darkness behind the building, her hips seductively swaying with every chipper step.

The home looks abandoned, rotten wood boards nailed across the windows without a single light source inside, tall grass and wild weeds reaching his knees. There’s an audible bang as the wind eerily slams a brittle window shutter, causing several shudders to run down his spine and form goosebumps on his skin.

Y/N loves to tease her boyfriend whenever she can. Beau is like a little treasure chest full of charm, happiness, and sweetness, and while his happy-go-lucky attitude fools most people, it never fools her. She knows he constantly worries about everything – but especially when he tries to hide it from her. While Beau might talk about his punch list openly, there’s an even bigger list he carries around in secret – his care list. Because Beau loves nothing more than to worry about all the things he cares with his heart and soul about – his job, his deputies, his friends, his daughter, and now even her. Y/N can see it in the brief moments when his smile falters for the shortest second, when his Adam’s apple bobs with concern whenever he assumes no one is looking, or when the usually talkative sheriff only offers one-word replies. While he would never admit to it and always brushes any worries of hers away, she still knows precisely when he’s anxious.

And this particular night, the protective father in him is worried because Emily is attending her first Halloween party, so Y/N has taken it upon herself to distract her boyfriend’s mind as best as she can. Nudity has always been the biggest selling point so far, and she knows it won’t fail her tonight, either.

Waiting patiently for him behind the house under a big oak tree, Beau soon rounds the corner with a curiously arched eyebrow, not able to resist her challenge as he plants his bow legs in front of her. “You little minx,” he smiles, happy wrinkles visible around his emerald orbs, and pecks her lips lovingly, their fingers interlacing. “You know, we could get arrested if someone catches us.”

“Starting with the dirty talk already, huh?” Y/N knows no one in this town will arrest them. One, the house has been empty since she was a child, the owners living in Nebraska now and not having visited their property in over a decade. And two, even if someone catches them, no one would care because the couple is beloved by everyone in town. So, the only thing Beau truly needs to fear is the endless teasing by Poppernak and Jenny if they do find him trespassing with his pants down, which is still a highly unlikely scenario.

Beau chuckles softly, shaking his head, “Your clean record really surprises me every time, darlin’.”

“Honestly, me too,” she grins slyly, her arms locking around his neck as she claims his plump lips, catching scents of caramel, apple, cinnamon, and chocolate. Beau always had a sweet tooth, so she wasn’t surprised when he loaded up on Denise’s spooky cookie selection throughout the night until he was close to puking. “Guess I’m good at getting out of things… or was it into things?” she muses in mock, her hand trailing down his broad chest until it reaches his slacks and palms his half-hard dick through the fabric. The longer she rubs his solid length and feels his weight and firmness in her palm, the more arousal pools between her aching thighs in anticipation.

“Shit,” Beau mutters as he loses his bearings. Y/N grins in triumph. Making a strong, proud, and tall guy like him crumble and lose his posture repeatedly might have become her favorite pastime activity since they started dating.

Surrendering, he catches her scarlet lips, his hat falling to the ground as he devours her mouth, tongue breaching inside with urgency and dancing with hers for dominance. His palms wander down to the globes of her ass and squeeze the juicy flesh over her skirt before he lifts her into his strong arms, her legs reflexively wrapping around his waist. Pressing her body firmly against the trunk of the big oak, he ceases his attack on her kiss-swollen, red-painted lips, breaths leaving their lungs in a ragged rhythm. “Alright, you win. But it’s gonna be a quickie. You’ll get your bad girl treatment once we actually make it home, baby girl.”

Knowingly, Y/N lets out an amused laugh, “Scared the neighbors will hear the slapping?”

“You bet your ass,” Beau chuckles with a smug wag of his eyebrows, the sound of his laugh so sweet and velvety it warms her heart as if someone poured a glass of milk and honey over it. His hand tenderly brushes a few rogue strands of hair behind her ear, his green eyes piercing into her soul and causing her to shudder as he looks at her intensely. “I love you… with everything I got, which I know isn’t a lot.”

Y/N smiles softly and pecks the tip of his freckled nose, her arms around his neck tightly holding onto him, chained for eternity. “Are you kidding me? I love you so goddamn much… And I love everything you give me, which is plenty, by the way. You’re all I ever wanted. It’s like someone built you just for me, y’know?”

The corners of his mouth curve up into a smile that matches hers, “Yeah, I feel the same about you, darlin’.” He kisses her lips, nibbles on the bottom one and sucks it between his teeth before placing more wet kisses down her jaw and throat until tongue and lips reach her pulse point, the gruff beard deliciously scratching her sensitive skin. “I can’t tell you how many times a day I think about this perfectly tight pussy of yours either, sweetheart. How wet are you already for me, hm?”

Dear fucking God…

Beau is much like a bear in some regard because he’s the sweetest and cuddliest man she’s ever met until she wakes him from his hibernation. Then, he will just ferociously follow the luring scent of his honey pot and take what’s his, not leaving a single drop for anyone else. Not even bear spray could get him off her now.

“Soaking, baby,” she mewls and grinds her crotch against his throbbing erection, imagining how his tip is already swollen and dripping precum for her, his salty taste always causing her to drool. “Please fuck me now. Wanna feel that thick, long cock fuck me hard and deep.”

Beau growls wantonly against her skin, his face buried in the crook of her neck, the vibrations causing the ache between her thighs to yearn for more friction. Their limbs then entangle in a frenzy, trying to shed all annoying barriers of clothing that block their treasure while still attempting to keep enough on to protect them from the freezing temperatures. The sheriff manages to free his massive cock, pants and boxers pooling by his boots as he quickly fists his length. Y/N has it a little easier, only wearing a dress and a pair of over-knee stockings, and simply pushes her black lace panties out of the way with her fingers, their bodies pushed flush against each other to keep them as warm as possible.

It’s so incredibly cold that Beau is even a little worried the solidity of his dick might suffer, but those worries are soon hushed when he enters her cozy heat, her hot cunt keeping him warm like a chimney fire. Threading his cock through her slick, the tip catches her wet and waiting entrance before he swiftly slides inside until he’s buried at the deepest spot of her pussy. Grunts, gasps, and whisper-quiet expletives are picked up by the wind and carried around the quaint garden as he fucks her relentlessly.

“Oh God… So good, baby. You always fuck me so good… always know how to take care of me,” she pants deliriously as he splits her almost in two. The stretch of his length forces her fingers to weave into his blond locks and tug on the strands until he groans against her skin. His teeth tear into her ample bottom lip in response, aware how much he loves the bits of pain in his pleasure as her fingernails scrape his scalp. “Fuck, I love that cock of yours. Every inch of you fills every inch of me, baby.”

“Shit, Y/N,” he mutters and hungrily claims her lips, his hips bucking at a faster pace and making each rough and deep thrust deliciously harder, the tight grip on her body leaving finger-shaped bruises on her delicate skin in their wake. “That filthy mouth is gonna make me bust, baby girl.”

“Don’t care. Right behind you,” she moans, her back arching against the tree trunk and scratching on the rough surface. “Might wanna cover my mouth if you’re still worried about the neighbors. Feels like a big one,” she croaks out with a panting smirk and manages to bite down on her tongue herself till she tastes bits of copper, her walls tightening around his hard cock as her orgasm threatens to spill.

“Nah, fuck ‘em. Better make sure the town knows you’re all mine, darlin’,” Beau grunts into her neck, a devilish smirk forming against her skin as he roughly kneads one tit and adjusts his angle to push even deeper. “Want you to soak my cock in your juices. Make him wet, sweetheart. Wanna feel that cunt tremble around me.”

“Oh God, Beau! Fuck, baby,” she moans loudly as she falls over the cliff into a sea of bliss, her climax rippling through every inch of her body and flooding her veins with mountains of oxytocin as she tightly holds onto him.

Beau quiets her moans with a few needy kisses, licking her sweet taste from her mouth. Four stuttering slams of his hips are all it takes until he shoots hot ropes of cum into her leaking pussy, painting her confines a creamy white as he stiffens between her thighs and lets his forehead fall against hers, a primal and deep grunt escaping his dry throat.

Y/N softly wakes him from his daze by nudging his nose with hers, a broad smile molding into shape on her pink lips. “See? Breaking the law isn’t always bad.”

Beau snorts, chuckling, and tenderly caresses the rose-colored apples of her cheeks with his thumb. “Uh-huh, I’ll remember that one for the Christmas speech this year. Luckily, there wasn’t a ‘no trespassing’ sign on you, darlin’.”

“Oh, there will never be one when it comes to you, Sheriff Arlen,” she grins cheekily and tastes his mouth one last time before the pair finally embarks on their journey home.

Hope you enjoyed our Sheriff and some heat under the moonlight, loves! 😏🌌🌕

Per usual, leave your gifs, comments, screams, emoji chaos somewhere as your payment 😜🖤

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