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taeghi · 7 months

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tainted love || (m)

demon!heeseung x reader | SMUT, angst, pwp

➤ summary : heeseung was just trying to do his job, there’s no way a demon could fall in love with a human. it was forbidden. but you summoning him accidentally or not, started the toxic relationship between you two.

➤ includes : choking, oral, fingering, dirty talk, biting, slapping, spiting, toxic-ness lol

➤ word count : 16.5k

trigger warning : mentions of death

taglist : @yunjardi @beomgyusonlywife @sparklingsjy @sunoosult @deobitifull @nellwoo @poppin46 @snowsmyt @fluerz @miumiuoi @seuomo @hoyeonheeseung @defxciii @seungjiseyo @eunii11 @cha0thicpisces @iamliacamila @luciathcv @skzenhalove @laffatae @mimikittysblog @luvyouchuu @alienqbrain @ramenoil @beomibeom @ajayke-reads @seokseokjinkim @heeswhoree @biggestenhastan @lilmxchis @jungwonieee @4yjwonnn @kimsunoo2003 @lprww @heeverseblog @capri-cuntz @lilriswife4life @seuomo @rizzhee @mimikittysblog @

you were excited when you first moved into your new home. it would be the first time you lived alone in your entire life. you loved the house you bought. it was old, ancestral and just perfect for you, right on the edge of town where it was the perfect mix of loud and quiet.

once you were all moved in, you were excited for your best friend, mary, to come over and see it. you had spent all day decorating and organizing, so the house felt like ‘home’ to you. the house had felt so welcoming to you, so you wanted it to feel welcoming to mary as well.

just as the sun dipped below the horizon, casting a warm glow over the new neighbourhood. mary arrived at your doorstep, excitement radiating from her whole body.

you greeted mary with a broad smile, happy to have your best friend over for the first time, “mary! i’m so glad you’re here!” mary’s hair was as long as ever as it stopped right above her hips. The few beauty moles she had around her eyes and cheekbones gleamed out at you.

mary’s eyes crinkled as she smiled hard at you, “me too, y/n! let me see this house you bought then!”

you beckoned your friend into your house, wanting her to follow you as you led the way through the new halls adorned with antique furniture and delicate wallpaper that was left behind for decades. you ascended the sweeping staircase, your footsteps bouncing off of the walls.

“girl, this house is like a time capsule!” mary remarked from behind you, her voice and eyes filled with wonder and curiosity. “where’d you even find it?”

you shrugged as you showed room by room, “just online. it was cheap– i guess because it’s so old.”

“how old?”

“really old.” you both laughed, “so old that i can’t get a door to budge open.” you glanced down to the last door at the end of the long hallway.

“really?” mary’s head tilted.

“yeah, the one on the very end there, with the faded floral patterns.” mary walked past you to the door and stopped in front of it. “i’ve tried for a few days now, even one of the movers couldn’t get it to budge. he said something about the hinges being rusted down.”

“let me try,” mary declared, her delicate hand reached out to the ornate brass doorknob you had tried to turn for hours.

as she turned the doorknob, the door swung open easily. too easily.

“hey, what?” you exclaimed, moving closer to see it better for yourself, “how did you do that?”

mary shrugged with a concerned look on her face, “i don’t know. i just opened it.”

“what the hell, i’ve been trying for days, mary!”

mary chuckled, “well, let’s see what’s up there then.” she pointed inside the newly opened door which reveals a narrow flight of stairs leading to an attic. “an attic filled with mysteries.” mary said in a fake scary voice.

mary let you go in first, climbing up the creaky, dusty steps, anticipation building with every reak and moan from the old house. the air grew thick with dust, swirling around them like ethereal spirits. both of your eyes widened at the sight before you at the top of the stairs. the space was illuminated by a single beam of light filtering through a small window. it cast long shadows on the faded wallpaper and illuminated the forgotten items from the previous owners.

“there is so much shit up here,” mary said beside you; both of you were standing still and taking in the scattered items spread about. she stepped around you, brushing off the layer of dust from an old trunk. she ran her fingers over the tarnished lock, contemplating what lay inside, “shall we see what’s in box number one?”

your eyes sparkled with anticipation, “absolutely.”

with a click, mary opened the trunk, revealing a trove of memories. it was full of sepia-toned photographs, delicate lace gloves and a journal with yellowed pages.

“look at this photograph,” mary showed you, holding up an image of a young couple embracing, looking madly in love. you peered over her shoulder, a wistful smile spreading across your lips as you looked at the pair.

mary continued to skim through the first box as you stood straight again. your eyes scanned your new attic, and you felt your heart skip when you noticed a dusty, wooden box tucked away in the corner. you walked towards it, your hands starting to tremble for no reason.

you could hear mary shifting with excitement as she found something new in her box, but you were too interested in the box in the corner in front of you. you knelt on the floor, your hands traced the chest, feeling some magnetic pull to it strangely.

you carefully opened the box, revealing an ancient wooden board intricately carved with symbols and letters. you realized that it was a ouijia board. its surface adorned with faded letters and a small wooden planchette.

mary gasped behind you, her eyes widening with awe and caution, “y/n, isn’t that a ouija board?”

you nodded, your voice filled with wonder and uncertainty, “yeah, i think so. i wonder why it’s been left up here, ya know, because they’re like a window to the other realm, right?”

the two of you exchanged a nervous glance before mary spoke again, her voice barely audible, “what do you say, y/n? should we use it? break in your new house?”

you hesitated, your mind starting to understand the fear that this board could evoke, “i don’t know, mary. it’s risky. what if we unleash something?”

mary placed a reassuring hand on your shoulder, “we’ll be careful. we won’t stay for long. we’ll just ask a few harmless questions, and if things get weird, we’ll stop, okay?”

you sighed but slowly nod, “alright, we can try it. who knows, it might not even work.”

“probably not, but it’ll be fun to try.”

you and mary gathered around your kitchen table, the ouija board spread out before you. soft candlelight flickered, casting eerie shadows on the walls.

you hesitated, your two fingers trembling as they hovered above the planchette, “are you sure about this mary? i have a bad feeling.”

mary’s voice was pure excitement, “we’ll be fine y/n, just a couple of questions, ok?”

they placed their fingers lightly on the planchette, their anticipation growing with each passing moment. the room seemed to hold its breath, awaiting their next move.

“is there anyone here with us?” mary asked, her voice confident, waiting for a response from the other side. but as minuted passed by, the ouija board remained still, its surface unyielding to their inquiries.

“maybe it’s not going to work, mary.” you said with a tinge of disappointment.

mary sighed, defeated and regretful, “i guess you’re right. i shouldn’t have gotten my hopes up too high.”

just as you two were about to lift your hands from the planchette, a sudden chill filled the air, causing both of you to shiver. you exchanged a puzzled look with mary as your attention was drawn back to the ouija board. slowly but surely, the planchette began to move, gliding across the board’s surface with an eerie certainty.

your eyes widened, your heart pounding in your chest, “uh mary, it’s moving.”

“i know,” mary replied in disbelief as the planchette stopped over “YES”. “oh my god.”

“oh my god,” you repeated, “that wasn’t you?”

“no! was it you?”

you shook your head, “definitely not.” with your body scared to the bone, mary let out a laugh, “what’s so funny?”

“nothing! nothing.” mary waved her free hand, “just, this is going to be so fun.”

you sighed, “just, be careful, alright? i don’t need my new house to be haunted or something.”

mary agreed and then asked again in her confident voice, “who are we speaking to?”

again, your eyes widened in disbelief as the planchette spelled out a name, letter by letter.

H– E– E– S– E– U– N– G.

“heeseung?” mary repeated, her voice filled with confusion, “who’s heeseung?”

your brows furrowed, trying to think if you know anyone by that name, “i don’t know mary, i’ve never heard that name before. it could just be a random spirit trying to communicate with us.”

mary shrugged and continued, “what do you want, heeseung?”

the planchette moves then, their fingers still atop as it spelled out the next word.

H– E– L– P.

you exchanged concerned glances with your friend across the table. the atmosphere in the kitchen growing heavy and gold with the unexplained presence.

“h-how can we help you?” mary asked the board.

I– N– C– U– B– U– S.

“what the hell’s does incubus mean?” you asked your friend.

“isn’t that like, a sex demon?” mary said, stifling a laugh.

“a sex demon?” you repeated, tilting your head in confusion.

“yeah, seems like someone’s horny in the afterlife.” mary jokes, making you bite your lip to stifle your own laugh.

before either of you could speak again again, the planchette started moving, dragging your fingers along with it.

N– A– M– E.

“name?” mary said out loud, “say your name.”

“what, why me?”

“because it’s your house, and we found this thing upstairs.”

you sighed before stating, “y/n.”

you expected the planchette to move again so the spirit could reply, but instead the small kitchen window above the sink swung open, letting the wind from outside enter roughly. the cold gust of wind blows out all the candles, plunging your kitchen into darkness besides the lone street lamp outside. a low guttural growl resonated through the air, sending shivers down your spines.

“jesus!” you jumped up, your hands leaving the board as you get up and close the window that was hitting the wall now. mary followed you, but turns on the kitchen light instead. “what was that?”

“i don’t know, wind.” mary said with a sarcastic tone, “it’s fine.”

“what? you weren’t scared by that?” you asked your friend curiously.

mary shrugged again, “i mean, you felt how rough the wind was, and this house is old. it makes sense that the window would open like that.”

you stared at your friend in disbelief, your hand stayed on your chest as you tried to slow your breathing. mary started grabbing her belongings, slipping her bag over her shoulder, oh so chalantly as you felt petrified from the events that occurred only a minute ago.

“so are you taking that thing home?” you asked mary, referring to the board that sits still on the table.

“what, no?” mary replied with a crinkle of her nose.

“but why not? you’re the one who likes these kinds of things.”

“well yeah, but we found it here. and god knows how long it’s been here, i wouldn’t want to upset it.”

“upset what?” your eyes widened in fear.

mary only laughed at your expression as she came over to you, her hands rubbing your shoulders as you face each other. “y/n, calm down, nothing even happened! we spoke to a spirit for five seconds and then the wind blew open the window. just put the board back in the attic and go to bed.”

you sighed at your friend, dreading to go back up into the attic once she’s gone.

“i’ll see you later, alright?” mary said as she stands on your porch with a smile, “nothing’s gonna happen so just enjoy your new house.”

you told your friend to have a goodnight before going around and making sure every door and windowwaslocked for the night, keeping all the lights on as you do so. when the time comes for you to put the board in the attic, you closed your eyes and placed it on the closest box to the stairs before turning and bolting down the stairs, slamming the floral door shut behind you. you wished the door would have never opened in the first place as you slide into bed, scared for the first time in your new house.

you were only able to sleep for a few hours before you were awoken suddenly. your body jolted awake as you sat up in your bed. your chest heaved heavily as you looked around your bedroom, but ultimately saw nothing.

you brushed a hand through your wild hair, mentally laughing at how scared you truly were. when you stretch out, ready for bed again you realized how damp your panties were and you wondered if you were having a wet dream of some sort that woke you up, but couldn’t seem to remember anything.

when you started to lay down again, figuring that it must be around 3am and you needed to go to sleep, you heard a creak from the other side of your room. you instinctively turned your body to face the corner, but again, nothings there. you told yourself that it’s just the old house, but for some reason you couldn’t get rid of the feeling that it’s something more.

one more time, you started to move your pillows so you could go back to sleep, but you heard a creak again from the same spot in the dark corner of your room. your eyes widened at the spot, suspecting to see something or someone other than the wall and darkness, and were about to go mad when you see nothing again. you smiled to yourself. thinking about how crazy you must truly look if anyone was here with you.

“looking for me?” a man’s voice spoke from the otherside of you. you could barely see the person before you were screaming, crawling backwards to the other side of your bed to get away from the voice. “hey, hey, it’s okay, shh.”

“no! who are you!” you cried out, your body shaking with fear.

“c’mon, y/n.” the man tsked at you, “you know who i am.”

“no! i don’t! please! just leave me alone! please!” you started crying, tears running down your face in an instant from pure fear, not knowing what this man was going to do with you.

“y/n, say my name.” his voice was stern, but playful as he speaks to you.

“i don’t know you’re name! and i don’t know how you know me! please! please! don’t hurt me!”

the man sighed, “fine.” he lifted his pale hand and snapped his fingers. instantly the tears brimming your eyes were gone, but your cheeks were still wet from the previous ones. your breaths calm and your body stopped shaking. your mind went clear, even though the deep, inner voice of yours was still screaming for help. “i didn’t want to have to do that, but you need to listen to me and calm down.”

your eyes snapped to the man, wanting to scream but can’t from the peacefulness taking over your body. you could actually examine the man now. he was tall and lean, he exudes an otherworldly charm that seemed to fascinate and terrify you. his hair was jet-black and falls over his eyes, yet frames his face that was carved in the moonlight that enters your bedroom.

your heart was racing, but was slowing down the more deep breaths you take. his eyes were dark brown as they stare back at you.

“who are you?” you voice was steady when you speak, which surprised yourself. “what did you do to me?”

his voice was smooth and melodic when he spoke again, “you know who i am.”

“i don’t.”

“you do,” the man sat on your bed, hands grabbing your shoulders so you look right at him, “think y/n. who am i?”

you were about to shake your head no, but suddenly there were flashes in your head. the man sitting in front of you, laying in your bed, smirking up at you as you hover a top of him. a flash of him laying shirtless and having abs that make you want to marvel at him for hours. and the final flash of him throwing his head back, letting out a moan of your name.

“heeseung.” you stated, your eyes widening in realization and fear, but your body refused to act the way you’re feeling deep down, like you’re stuck.

the man, heeseung, smiled slyly as you say his name, “there you go, good girl.”

“how- what?” you questioned, wondering how you knew this man in front of you was heeseung, the spirit you contacted earlier through the board and how did you get those, those memories of him.

his smirk grew deeper on his face, “i gave you a nice dream before i made you wake up, i thought you’d like it.”

you think more about the dream he must’ve given you, and pushed away the thought that crosses your mind of how you wish the dream would have lasted longer. there’s a whole demon sitting in front of you, and you can’t seem to react the way you want to, just placed frozen on your bed.

“what do you want, heeseung?” you asked him, your voice almost monotone, but really wanting to scream.

a tantalizing smile curled onto his heeseung’s lips before he speaks, “you.”

the voice in the back of your head screamed louder, wishing to get away from him, but yet you stay still, “why me?”

heeseung grabbed your hand in his, his skin cold against your own. you felt disgusted as he touches you, but lean your hand into his. “because you summoned me and set me free. and now, i need to fulfill my duties.”

you wanted to scream, but you couldn’t. you were trapped still on your bed with a demon holding your hand. and all you could do was sit there, expressionless. “what- what did you do to me?”

heeseung retracted his hand, “i’m sorry, i had to so you would listen, i can make it stop.”

“please.” your begging word came out monotone.

“i will. but first you need to understand how you’ve summoned me to fulfill my duty as a worker of the underworld. can you listen?”

you nodded slowly, wanting to understand more about this demon and how the hell he’s ended up beside you.

“i’m an incubus. and the main part of my duty is to pleasure women, sexually. and i can do that for you, y/n. i can sense that you’ve never properly been pleasured,” heeseung’s hand pushed your hair behind your ear and you struggled to not shiver at the contact, “i can make you feel good.”

you gulped as you dare to look heeseung in the eyes. you noticed the way his dark eyes glint in the moonlight and how his jawwasheld tonight as he smirked at you. you hated yourself for thinking how attractive he would be if he was a human. “how would you know?”

heeseung almost let out a laugh at how naive you are, but he found it charming at the same time, “because i am a demon y/n. i’m forever trapped between realms for my actions i did as a human. and for that, i’m forever yearning for a taste of the forbidden. and you, y/n, have summoned me and are now my object of fascination. i can make you feel good, i know you want me to.”

“no, i don’t.” you speak, trying to defend yourself from the demon.

heeseung tsked, “as an incubus i can appear as anyone that the woman so desires. i’ve appeared as many celebrities, ex-boyfriends, random strangers the woman has seen on the street. but for you, you desire me.”

you avoided heeseung’s stare now, nervousness wanting to spread all over your body as he calls you out. you’re sure that if you weren’t under this trance of his your breathing would be rapid and you’d be fidgeting.

you felt heeseung’s hand slither to your jaw, turning to your face gently to look at him, “just say the word y/n, and you can have me.” his melodic voice was in a whisper as he was mere inches away from your face, “just tell me you want me.”

you could feel your heart pounding in your chest even though the rest of you remained in an unwelcome calm. a magnetic pull between you and heeseung has somehow grown too strong to resist in the few minutes he has sat in front of you.

with trembling lips, you looked into heeseung’ captivating eyes, swirling with a seductive and darkness glaze, and a surge of boldness coursed through your veins as you give voice to your deepest desire.

“i want you.”

heeseung’s enigmatic smirk widened, a flicker of satisfaction danced on his face. it was as if your confession had unlocked a doorway to a realm where pleasure and danger intertwined.

he leaned closer, his breath caressing your lips before they were pushed onto yours. heeseung’s fingers snap in your ear, and suddenly you’re overcome with so many, too many emotions all at once : fear, lust, nervousness, curiosity.

in your dimly lit room, with your lips pressed together with a demon’s you know you should’ve pulled away and ran, but there was a dark lust inside of you. curious to see how heeseung could have pulled you in so quick with his words. a surge of electricity coursed through your body, feeling a connection with heeseung deepening. the kiss ignited a fire within you, a flame that seemed to consume all over her overbearing emotions.

heeseung’s lips were soft, yet demanding, drawing you further into a world where pleasure and danger danced perfectly together. it seemed like both of your desires intertwined, blurring the line between terror and passion.

time seemed to stand still as you deepened his kiss. your mouths moving in perfect synchrony as if you’ve kissed one million times before.

as heeseung pulled away, your eyes locked, your heavy breaths mingling in the small space between you. heeseung’s hands came up and roughly pushed you down against your bed, your head landing in your pillow. heeseung’s head delved down, sucking and biting immediately onto the sweet spot on your neck. you gasped, arching your back into his chest, wondering how he found the perfect spot so quick.

you could feel heeseung smirk against your skin, “i know all your desires y/n, everything that makes you feel good.” he lifts his head to look into your eyes, “everything that you’ve been deprived of, never having the chance to be perfectly pleasured by someone else.”

you gulped harshly because it’s true. every time you’ve had sex it’s always been disappointing and you’ve never been fully satisfied. your last boyfriends would take charge during sex, and would never give you the room to express what makes you feel good. you’ve tried random hookups with guys at bars or ones you’ve meet on tinder, but they never know how to please you and only take care of themselves.

“i told you,” heeseung pressed a kiss into your cheek, “i’ll make you feel good.” he pressed a kiss into the other, “it’s what you deserve.”

you nodded gently at heeseung’s statement, allowing yourself to fully trust a demon with your body, wanting to taste the pleasure that you do deserve and should have felt before. and for some reason, you didn’t feel any hesitation giving your body to him.

heeseung’s hands started to grope your body, trailing down your sides and massaging your thighs at the end. he grabbed your thighs, pulling them so they bend at your knees and wrap around his waist. his lips were meshing against yours roughly, the way that you’ve always wanted to be kissed. your ex boyfriends were always so gently and sweet, which you could appreciate, but sometimes you just wanted to be taken roughly.

heeseung’s hands pulled up your shirt, letting his flood at your neck as he exposes your breasts to his sight. his hips were grinding into yours as his hands groped your breasts. you could already feel how hard he was in his black pants as he grinded his hips into your core. you could feel your wet panties get wetter with the friction.

heeseung finally pulled off your shirt, taking a break from your lips. “fuck, such perfect tits.” heeseung groaned before he’s putting his lips over your erect nipple. he switched between your breasts, his tongue circulating the nipple in quick motions. you moaned at the cold air brushing against your skin once he pulled it off.

heeseung suddenly pulled your legs straight before pulling down your sleeping shorts so you were left in only your panties. he was then spreading your legs wide as he kneels down between your legs.

“wha-?” your voice was cut off as he pressed his mouth to your wet mound. a moan leaves your lips instantly, never having a man go down on you before.

“fuck, baby, so sensitive already?” heeseung mumbled as he pushes your panties to the side, exposing your pussy to his eyes.

you could only moan again in response as he delves down again, his tongue against your bare pussy now. heeseung moaned as he tastes you, his eyes closing for a brief second to take in your taste. your jaw droppedas you watch him in between your legs, his tongue slipping in and out of his mouth and around your lips.

he made sure to reach every part of your pussy, letting his saliva mix with your own wetness that he’s made.

“that’s so fucking good.” you told him, not missing the smirk on his face when he heard your words.

heeseung then slipped a finger inside of you, instantly finding your g spot. you cried out his name, wanting to tell him to not stop, but you could tell he didn’t plan on it. his free hand finds your breast, taking the nipple in between his fingers.

you felt overwhelmed by him in the best way. his tongue and fingers reaching every pleasure point of your body. you don’t think anyone has ever been able to find everything that makes you feel good before, even your ex boyfriend that you dated for years.

heeseung groaned into your core, losing himself in your taste and walls as his two fingers massage your g spot in circles, “you love the way i play with your pussy, y/n?” his voice was deep when he speaks to you, and it makes you throw your head back into your pillows.

suddenly all of the pleasure heeseung’s been giving you stopped, and before you could complain, a sharp slap hits your wet mound, the wet sound echos into your bedroom walls. “heeseung!”

“i asked you, question.” heeseung dark eyes meet yours through your legs, “answer me or i stop.”

your chest was heaving from the pleasure and shock, “y-yes, i love it.”

heeseung smirked at your answer, “good girl.” before he delved back into your pussy, his fingers fucked into you at ease as his tongue switched between sucking and circling your clit. your body relaxed into the pleasure again, grabbing onto his hand that rests by your chest.

without thinking you pulled his fingers into your mouth, sucking on them instead of letting out the moans you know you can’t control. your actions make heeseung groan against your pussy, the vibration making you suck his fingers harder. your body felt like fire as your tongue circles his fingers like his tongue circles your clit.

your body started to move against your bed, unable to stay still from the pleasure. his fingers dropped from your mouth and landed on your thighs to keep them open. his tongue started to delve deeper into your pussy as his fingers pick up their pace. heeseung keeps groaning against you, loving the way you started to grind back onto his mouth.

you could tell heeseung loved having his tongue and fingers in you, and that only adds to the pleasure you were feeling. loving the fact that a man (whether he’s a demon or not) actually wanted to pleasure you, something you’ve never experienced with your past, selfish partners.

your back arched suddenly off of your bed, the pleasure becoming too much for you to hold back, “fuck, heeseung!” you cried out his name, pushing your pussy farther into his face.

“you gonna cum, angel?” heeseung’s lips mumbled against your clit, his fingers starting to pound into you, rubbing your g spot every time.

“y-yes! please don’t stop! please!” your begging this time was so different from how you were begging him just minutes ago.

“cum for me, y/n. cum all over my fucking face.” heeseung encouraged you, and it was all the took for you to come undone with just a few minutes of him pleasuring you. the feeling was new to you as you had never come undone from someone’s tongue and you wished your high could last longer. a final, high pitch moan left your mouth before you were pushing heeseung away from the sensitivity.

heeseung grunted but pulled away, licking his lips to vanish your juices off of his lips, “fuck, you taste good.” heeseung leaned down and pressed a kiss onto your lower stomach that was heaving with your chest, trying to catch your breath from the orgasm he just gave you.

before you could speak again, heeseung’s hands were sliding under your body and flipping you around onto your hand and knees. your body still felt like mush from your orgasm so he could easily handle you.

you heard heeseung start to unzip his pants, pulling them to reveal his cock. when you turn, wanting to catch sight of it, you gasped. his cock was long and hard. there were veins trailing up the sides that reached the red tip, oozing with precum. his girth will definitely stretch you and you wondered for a second if it’ll even fit inside of you. heeseung caught a glimpse of your concerned face, pressed a hand onto your lower back so your chest and face are against the pillows.

“don’t worry, angel, i’ll be gentle at first.” heeseung speaks to you, massaging your ass cheeks with his hands, trying to calm you in any way that he knows.

heeseung spits down onto your pussy, making you squeak as you felt his spit trickle down your pussy. he spits in his hand and smeared it over his cock, lubing up everything as both of you know he’s definitely the biggest you’ve ever and probably will ever take.

heeseung gave your ass one more smack before he’s pushing his cock into your dripping pussy. your mouth dropped open as you pressed your face into your pillows, feeling your walls stretch so well around him. you were thankful for the orgasm he gave you before, because you’re sure it would’ve hurt more if you weren’t so wet and stretched from his fingers.

once he’s fully inside he stopped, letting you take deep breaths into your pillow as you adjust to his size, “do i fill you up good, y/n?” heeseung asked, massaging the red hand print he’s left on your ass.

“mhm,” you mumbled to him in your pillow, “so good.”

heeseung started to fuck into you then, holding onto your waist as he thrusts from behind. you could feel his hips hit your ass every time his cock was deeply delved into your pussy. you swear you could feel him in your stomach.

“fuck, it’s so big.” you moaned out, your hands clutching your sheets as his cock stretches you out, feeling every inch of your walls, even the parts that have never been touched before.

heeseung aimed for your g spot everytime, the rough patch rubbing against his cock so easily. you wondered how no one has been able to find it before since heeseung has seemed to find it so instinctively.

heeseung’s hands were molding into your ass, grabbing and massaging as he uses it to fuck into you. his own mouth was dropped open as he fucks you, leaning down to kiss your back gently, in complete contrast to how rough he’s fucking your pussy. you felt like you were being ripped open, but you could care less from how good it felt.

heeseung reached around you, wrapping his large hands around your breasts, pulling and tweaking your nipples. you manage to sit up on your knees, pressing your back into his chest as you turned your head to look at him. his eyes that were once brown were now full on black. you could see your own fucked out reflection in them before you were grabbing his head from behind and pulling his lips onto yours. they mesh so well together and you know it should scare you, but it only leaves you wanting more and more.

his cock was lodged so deep inside of you as he fucked up into you at the new angle. your ass was jiggling each time he slams his cock back into you. your tongues were exploring each other’s mouth, tasting each other as his hands keep roaming your body.

at once, you were being pulled away from his lips as he pushed you back down onto the bed. your face in the pillow and your ass up, pussy still gripping onto his cock. he was grabbing your hands from the sheets and pulling them behind your back, locking them in place and using them as a new holder to fuck into you.

heeseung started pulling his cock all the way out of you, before ramming it back in all the way. you could feel his cock hitting your cervix as you cried out his name. “oh fuck, heeseung!”

“yeah, that feel good?” heeseung said, his voice relatively calm, “who’s pussy is this then?”

“yours! fuck, all yours!” you replied instantly, not even thinking about anything else, drunk on the pleasure.

heeseung kept fucking into you as he reached for the hem of his black shirt, pulling it off his head so now he’s completely bare behind you. you turned and graveled at his body. it was pale, and the moonlight seemed to make it glow. you could see sweat starting to form around his faint abs that blended in with his milky skin. his broad shoulders slink into his small waist perfectly. everything about heeseung seemed to be beautiful, and that’s so, so dangerous.

heeseung’s suddenly pulled out of you, making you whine. he chuckled darkly as you, before he flipped you back over onto your back. instinctively you spread your legs for him, just wanting him to be back inside of you. heeseung grabbed one of your legs, putting it up on his shoulder while the other leg wraps around his waist.

he slipped his cock back into you and you both groaned at the new angle. heeseung leaned down and pressed a deep kiss onto your lips briefly.

“open your mouth, let me see your tongue,” he stated and you do as you were told.

heeseung spits into your mouth, making you moan as you swallow. you wondered for a second how he knew that you were into that, but then remember that he was not just a normal man on top of you, he was an incubus, and his duty was to know every single one of your desires. the thought gets pushed away by the pleasure before you could think more of it.

“yeah, you like that? you like being my bitch?” heeseung asked you, his black eyes, almost covered by his eyelids that were closing from his own pleasure.

“i love it! i love it, please.” you replied truthfully. heeseung smiled devilishly at your obedience.

heeseung stopped pounding into you, and you watched him reach over to your nightstand, your embarrassment crawled up into you as you sat up, “wait!” you speak, but it’s too late, heeseung had already pulled out your vibrator, and the devilish grin only grew on his face.

“what?” he tilted your head as he saw the pink on your cheeks, “you don’t think i know how often you use this to pleasure yourself?”

“i- i,” you tried to speak but were too embarrassed and watched him examine the vibrator.

“why can’t we let it join our fun?”

you gulped, new ideas and images of heeseung filling your mind at his suggestion, “we, we can.”

heeseung smirked at you, and you only fall deeper into him as he turned on the vibrator. the noise filling your room as he pressed it into your clit.

“fuck!” you cried out instantly, your pussy was still sensitive from the orgasm before.

it only took a second more before heeseung was shoving his cock back into you, fucking into you so fucking deep as he pressed the vibrator harder and harder against your clit. your hands flied up by your head, pulling at your pillow as you take the pleasure that heeseung was giving you.

only curses leave your mouth as your body began to rave on the pleasure. heeseung’s free hand reached down to your neck, successfully choking you. your eyes rolled to the back of your head uncontrollably.

heeseung was biting, licking and kissing your leg that was hooked onto his shoulder, his eyes watching the pleasure take over you. you had never felt so exposed before, but you wouldn’t want anything else in that exact moment. you love the thought of heeseung just wanting to see you come undone on his cock. like it’s the only thing he’d ever want in this world.

“yes, that’s a good girl, take my fucking cock.” heeseung grunted out to you, his grip on your neck not releasing.

he kept pounding into your, your body began to twitch again, not being able to stay still from all the pleasure and adrenaline running through your body.

heeseung pressed the vibrator into your clit harder, stopping his thrusts with his cock deep inside of you as he bended over and kissed you. his tongue swirling around your mouth. you can’t kiss him back properly as moans just keep falling out of your mouth. so, he sucked one of your fingers into his mouth.

“oh my god,” you let out, watching the handsome man lick and suck around your thumb as he made deep eye contact with you, his cock seeming to hit every inch of your pussy, the veins dragging so perfectly against your wet walls.

“no one’s ever made you feel so good before, right angel?” heeseung asked you, a smirk on his face that dropped quickly when you don’t, when you can’t answer. his hand left your waist and slapped you across your face, “answer me.”

“no! never! only you!” you replied, liking the way the sting felt on your face. the pain just mixed with the pleasure.

heeseung’s hand wrapped around your neck again, squeezing tight as you took his cock. suddenly you can’t take the pleasure anymore, “cum, gonna cum.” you told him.

he released your neck and slapped your face again, slapping both of your cheeks as you started to grind down on his cock as his hips meet your own. the vibrator makes wet squelching noises as it pressed between your pussy lips and clit.

“cum for me, angel, cum all over my cock,” heeseung nodded at you, “wanna feel how tight you get around me when you cum.”

his words set you off again, and your body convulsed as you felt the coil in your stomach snap. all the pleasure taking over your body as you tensed and untensed your limbs, feeling the high make your body and mind melt away. you could do nothing as heeseung continued to pound into you, letting you ride out your high with his cock constantly hitting your g spot.

“that’s it, that’s my good girl.” heeseung groaned out, your tight, wet walls affecting him just as much as he’s affecting you. there was a sense of pride in you as you come down from your high as you watched heeseung struggle to keep his own composure.

he turned off the vibrator and threw it to the side of the bed, almost completely forgotten as he grabbed your legs and pushed them down onto your chest. heeseung was then hovering over top of you, his cock still plunged deep inside.

“fuck,” you let out, his hands gripping the back of your thighs, “you fuck me so well.”

“i know, angel, i told-, told you I would.” heeseung’s voice was getting breathy as he was reaching closer to his high, “want you to cum one more time for me, y/n, please.” his begging voice and eye contact made anything feel possible to you.

heeseung’s fingers slipped down to your sensitive clit, rubbing small circles into it as his pace of his thrusts didn’t slow down.

it only took a few more thrusts before you were hitting your third and final orgasm of the night, the most you had came before. your body felt like it was on a sensitive overdrive as heeseung fucked you through your high. your jaw dropped in a silent scream as your walls tightened around heeseung’s cock for the last time. you could hear heeseung’s groans as he was getting closer and closer to his own orgasm.

“please cum, heeseung, please. wanna see you cum for me,” you begged him, eyes pleading as he held onto your thighs tighter.

“fuck, fuck,” heeseung let out before he ripped his cock out of you. his hand started jerking his hard cock, slippery with your cum and juices. his eyes switched between your swollen pussy and your fucked out face. “y/n, yes!”

you could feel heeseung’s warm cum land on your lower stomach, his grunts mixed with the mentions of your name. you had never thought your name sounded pretty before, but it slipping off of his lips made it seem ethereal.

both of your chests were breathing heavily as heeseung leaned down, meshing his lips onto yours in a messy, but almost passionate way. the passion delved in the kiss stirs something in you, scaring you when you remembered that he’s a demon you’ve accidentally summoned.

you shoot your eyes open at the thought, sitting up in your bed, reality consuming you that you’ve just had sex with a demon.

but when you looked around your room, feeling your lips still tingle from the kiss that was happening just a second ago, you find yourself alone. no one in your room except for you and the moonlight.

then, an almost instantaneous need for sleep started to consume you, and even when you tried to fight it just mere seconds before you pass out, head falling back on the pillow, you fail. your body lays on your bed in a peaceful, innocent manner, so much different than how it was interacting minutes before.

when you awake again, it’s morning, the moonlight filling your room has changed into midday sunlight. your head felt like it was pounding when you sat up, placing your hand over it for some comfort. you felt confused when you tried to piece together what’s going on.

suddenly, painful quick images flash in your brain. images of heeseung, his mocha eyes turning black, his cold lips against yours, his hands roaming over your body.

you rip off your blanket that has been covering you. you were wearing your pajamas and it makes you question yourself on how you went to bed. you have no memory of getting dressed or putting the blanket over top of you. or even how you wiped up heeseung’s cum off of your stomach.

you briskly get out of bed, making your way across the hall to the bathroom. you turned on the cold water, needing some sort of relief from this awakening. you lean against the counter with your hands on your cold, wet face, soaking in the water as you try to recall more memories from the night before. trying to distinguish if it was all a nightmare or real life.

you walk yourself through everything you could remember. it’s too detailed to just be a nightmare, but you don’t remember anything after heeseung pressed a final kiss to your lips. his lips, they were perfect, they knew everything that could make you feel good.

then, the memory comes back. you stand up straight, looking at yourself in the bathroom mirror as you pull your hair back, desperate to see your neck.

and there it is, a bright, purple hickey right below your ear.

your breath started to pick up pace as your fingers run over the bruise. fear and astonishment filling your body as you realize that everything you think happened last night, did in fact happen.

you had sex with a demon.

and you liked it.

there was no doubt in your mind that it wasn’t the best sex you’ve ever had. that you wouldn’t kill to have it again, to see heeseung one more time. feel his lips trail over your body, utilizing every part of his and your body to make you feel good.

and that thought terrified you.

there was no way you were craving sex with a demon, wishing that you could see him again. you sounded crazy.

so you told yourself that it was all a trick, and that after this exact moment you would never think of the demon with the cherry lips and soft black hair again. it was over and done with as what happened was part of his ‘duties’ or whatever. it meant nothing and never will, heeseung the incubus was out of your life for good.

it didn’t take long for heeseung to start corrupting your dreams, blurring the line of what a dream and a nightmare is. in the depths of the night, your slumber was disturbed by images.

always finding yourself in a desolate dreamscape that you wander through, listening to whispers of your name in the air. the voices draw you towards a figure standing in the shadows. the closer you get, the more you could realize that it was heeseung, his presence both captivating and terrifying.

you could feel fear clenching your heart, your instincts wanting you to flee. yet, a part of you secretly relishes these dreams, these encounters with the enigmatic demon who holds a power over you whether he knows or not.

in the nightmare, heeseung steps forward, his eyes gleaming with his charm. “angel,” he murmured, his voice a seductive melody that you remember it has. “you’re mine, right?”

conflicting emotions surge within you. you know you should be frightened by him, to resist his demonic presence. but a part of you craved his attention, relish in the intrigue and danger that pulsed through your veins.

as he moves closer in the nightmare, reaching out and placing his cold hands on your bare arms, it sends electric currents surging through your body. making you feel a sort of high heeseung has only ever been able to give you.

despite the initial fear of your nightmares, your secret longing intensified the more you dreamt of him. it was a twisted dance between fear and desire. you yearned for the darkness that consumed your dreams, drawn to heeseung like a moth to a flame.

you started seeing flashes of what could only be heeseung during the day when you were awake. seeing him in the reflection of the window when you were washing dishes, only to turn around and to find no one.

when you went out to a cafe with mary, you swore you saw heeseung standing across the street through the cafe’s window, but he was gone when you turned your head completely to look at him.

finally, feeling insane from seeing him in your dreams and while you were awake, you had enough. you needed to talk to heeseung. you needed to see him for more than a second again.

knowing the only way you reached him before was thrown on a dusty box in the attack, you started to march your way to the attic, just wanting peace from this hellish reality you’ve been living in for weeks.

as soon as your hand was about to turn the copper door knob on the faded floral door, you heard his voice behind you. “and what do you think you’re doing?”

you squeak and turned around, facing the demon you were looking for, “i wanted to talk to you, again.”

heeseung scoffed from his position of leaning on the wall, his arms crossed over his chest, “right, but you and a ouija board don’t go so good together- especially since you summoned me last time,” heeseung started to walk closer to you, “who knows who you could’ve summoned this time.”

you gulped as you stared up at the demon who had been in your dreams for the past month, “well, i didn’t know how else to contact you! you- you keep showing up in my dreams and i know, i’ve seen you.”

“y/n,” heeseung glanced into your eyes, and you saw his hand start to move by his side but ultimately stopped and dropped back, “you can’t contact me again, that’s part of the whole incubus thing. we should never speak again.”

“w-what? but what about my dreams and i saw y-!” heeseung’s finger pressed against your lips, stopping you with a quick “shh!”.

“those should stay between us, i shouldn’t be doing those things. i could get in serious trouble.”

heeseung’s eyes were serious as you look into them, trying to get every detail to truly remember them in their mocha form. his finger dropped from your lips and hesitantly puts his hand back to his side, like he wanted to touch you but he can’t.

“then why were you doing those things?”

heeseung shrugged as he scanned your confused and frustrated face, “i don’t know. i shouldn’t have though. i won’t anymore.”

you scoffed, not being able to comprehend the turn of events, “so, this will be the last time i see you?” heeseung’s lips fell into a frown and his eyes hold sadness with your question. you take his expression as the answer you didn’t want to hear and looked away from him, to the floor.

“i’m sorry, angel.” heeseung’s whispered words reached your ear as he steps closer to you, only an inch away from your face. his hand reached up to grab your chin, pulling your face so you looked at him instead of the oak floor. your eyes have nowhere to look except for him. you take in every detail of his face, his moles by his lips– the one on his forehead that you catch a glimpse of through his bangs, his thin nose that you just want to kiss.

“this’ll be it.” are his last words before he’s leaning in and pressing his lips to yours. you stood on your toes to kiss him back, wanting him to feel all your emotions in the kiss. the kiss felt like a collision of souls, a culmination of desires that transcended into his and your realm.

your hands leave from your sides to wrap around his neck, but they ultimately fall back down to your body. you open your eyes and that’s when you see heeseung was no longer in front of you, his lips have left yours, his final, lingering touch.

you stood alone in your hallway now, your heart heavy. you knew this connection with heeseung could’ve ended with a heartbreak, but you wish it would’ve lasted longer. you wish you could’ve talked to him more before the final kiss.

with tears streaming down your face, you whispered a final goodbye to him before going to bed, hoping and wishing that he would visit your dreams again.

there were no more dreams of heeseung. no more sightings of him. just, nothing.

it made you question if he was even real and wasn’t some part of your imagination.

the more you questioned yourself and heeseung’s intentions, the more you could feel yourself grow into the dark pit your mind had made for you. your inner self was battling too many fights at once that your physical self felt weak and tired. everyday went by at the same slow pace with the same boring routine. each day seems to fade into one, unable to tell the difference between them as you fight the internal battle you’ve created for yourself.

on one side, you knew that heeseung was dangerous. just a few months ago you didn’t even think demons were real. but now that you were aware, you should know all of the scary movies and stories and myths you had heard about them were real. you knew that heeseung had a power that could harm people. the thought of him hurting someone jabbed at your heart and made you feel ill.

on the other side you felt a strong connection to him. the way he was gentle with you and watched over you even though he knew he shouldn’t have. it lets you know that he must also feel the same connection that you do. he’s alluring and different and makes you feel like you’re special. no one has ever been able to make you feel as good as him.

so now that he’s gone, you struggle to really know your worth all because of a demon.

at work, mary seemed to notice you were struggling, well everyone could tell. but your friend confronted you one evening as you were leaving work. “hey, y/n!”

you turned at the voice of your friend, watching her chase after you in your work building. you hold the door for her and watch as her smiling face approaches you. usually you would be happy to see your friend, but you’re just so exhausted that you struggle to smile back at her.

“you going home now?” mary asked once she’s reached you.

“yeah,” you replied, starting walk outside now with mary beside you.

“right, well can we talk for a second?”

you stop and nod at your friend, wanting her to continue.

“y/n, i’ve noticed a change in you. you seem, i don’t know, depressed. you can tell me what’s going on.”

you tense at her words, not knowing what to say. “nothing’s wrong, mary. thanks though.” you turned away from her, hoping to get to your car quickly.

“wait, y/n!” mary’s arm grabbedyou to turn you around. “please, i know something’s wrong. you haven’t been the same since you moved into that house.”

you hesitated, torn between keeping your secret and the need to confide in someone. finally, you spoke in a hush tone incase someone walked by, “mary, remember heeseung, that demon we spoke to on the ouija board.”

“yeah…” mary’s eyebrows scrunched together in confusion.

“well, we accidentally summoned him, so now he’s, he’s visited me in my dreams. i hear him whispering and i see him. we’ve, spoken before.”

mary’s eyes widened with shock and concern, her voice filled with urgency, “what do you mean you’ve spoken?”

you shrugged, not wanting to tell her that you’ve had sex with him, “not much, and i can’t seem to resist him. but, he’s gone now.”

“what do you mean ‘gone’?”

‘he said that he shouldn’t still be in contact with me, and that it’s no good, so he’s left.”

mary grabbed onto your shoulders so you could only look at her. “listen to me y/n, you have to fight this. whatever going on with you now. heeseung is manipulating you. he’s a demon! you must break free from him, from this, whatever you have with him!”

but even as your friend warned you and told you the same things you’ve told yourself, your heart raced with longing for heeseung. you yearned to see him and talk to him at least one more time. heeseung was just too strong to resist.

“i, i can’t mar,” you admitted. “there’s just, something about him. i know it’s wrong, but i can’t help myself.”

mar tried to hide the disgust that was filling up with her when a genuine smile spread across your face for the first time in weeks, and it was because of a demon. an evil demon that she thought was only doing harm to her friend.

as mary reached out to hold your trembling hands she spoke, “y/n, this isn’t good for you. maybe you should stay at my house, and get away from him.”

“no!” you ripped your hands out of your best friends, “i don’t want to! i don’t want to do any of that. heeseung, he. he’s different.”

“he’s a demon!”

you scoff, “you don’t think i know that? i’m connected to him! more connected than i’ve been to anyone. he understands me. and you’ll never understand that.”

“right, i’ll never understand how my friend turned out to be such a freak! you need help!”

you jaw droppedat your friend’s words, pure anger and guilt taking over you, “yeah fuck you, mary! you’re the one that wanted to play the ouija board in the first place! so it’s your fault!” your words snap at her and you see her face fall at them before you turned on your heel and beeline it to your car. not looking back as you pull out onto the street, ready to go home.

that was the last time you went to work or saw mary.

your days from then on consisted of laying in bed and sleeping. it felt like there was a part of you that was being torn apart and you didn’t know how to fix it besides having heeseung next to you. you were sure nothing or no one else could complete you again.

your eyes felt soulless and your cheeks were stained with tears. after you lost count of how many days you layed in bed you seemed to have lost the reason why you were even crying.

heeseung wasn’t coming back. and that should be good, all he does is bring darkness around him. but then the thought of never seeing him again made you feel worse.

your body began to subtly shake as you began to cried quietly. your pillow being drenched in tears again before you fell asleep once again. the mid afternoon and tears lulling you to sleep so quickly, but the last conscious thought on your mind was of heeseung, yet again.

since heeseung left, you’ve had no dreams of him, but this time, you could feel him creeping around your mind. you were calling out to him in the woods that weren’t recognizable to you, begging him to step forward because you knew he was there. the forest was dark and every tree looked the same.

suddenly, a light was glowing behind a tree, so bright that it was almost blinding. you knew you should go towards it, having no fear in the dark forest now because of this light.

your hand reached out and touched the dark oak as you peer around it. there, surrounded by the bright light, like it was his aura, was heeseung, leaning against the other side of the tree with his pretty smirk on his face that you missed so much.

his name sounded foreign on your tongue when you said his name, and when he speaks back you realized you almost forgot what his voice sounded like completely. you were telling him how much you miss him, and then he’s pinning you up against the tree so you can’t move, his lips dangerously close to yours as he tells you he missed you, too.

just when your lips were about to touch, you jolted awake in your bed.

your room was pitch black now that it was midnight. your chest was heaving from the intense dream you were just having. you turned around to grab the glass of water on your bedside, bringing it to your lips just as you heard his voice– and you think you were dreaming again.

“i didn’t even have to infiltrate your brain that time– that dream was all yours.”

you drop the glass out of your hand, hearing it smash against your floor as you turned around again in bed, your legs coming up to your chest as you looked at your window.

there, leaning against your window sill like he was against the tree in your dream– is heeseung.

nothing about him was different from the last time you saw him. his hair, his eyes, and his cherry lips were the exact same. though, he’s wearing a plain t shirt with his black pants this time. he lookedalmost innocent in the moonlight that’s radiating off of his pale skin, but you know it’s the last thing he is.

“heeseung!” your voice was hoarse when it comes out– it being the first time you’ve spoken in weeks. “wha- what’re you doing here?”

heeseung chuckles as he pushes himself off the sill, “what? you don’t want me here?”

“no! i do!” you speak quickly, sitting up on your knees to look at him better. he’s standing on the side of your bed, right in front of you on your knees.

“i know,” he nodded, “ and i shouldn’t be here, but i saw you dreaming about me so i just had to come.”

your hand jutted out and grabbed his wrist that’s dangling at his side, “please, stay, just a bit longer. i missed you.”

you see heeseung’s eyes fill with hesitation as he looked down at you. your hand droppedfrom his wrist as he moves his hand up to your face and grabbeda hold of your jaw. his thumb started to gently trace over your bottom lip.

“i missed you, too, angel.” his nickname for you falls easily off his lips as he speaks, and it makes you want to close your eyes to take in the moment but don’t just in case when you open them again he’ll be gone. “it’s late though, you should be sleeping.”

“no, heeseung! please, i don’t need to sleep. just stay.”

heeseung tsked but nodded to your pillow behind you, “let’s lay down, then.”

you fell back into your bed, watching as heeseung lifted your blanket and crawled in beside you. you were laying on your back as he was laying on his side facing you. he reached up and pushed your hair behind your ear so he could look at you better.

“i really missed you,” you toldhim with sorrow in your eyes.

“i know, and it upset me to see you that way everyday– you were just so– so sad,” he responds, you feel his hand slip under the sheets to meet your hand, linking your fingers together.

“i just, can’t forget how you made me feel. i’m so happy when i’m with you,”

heeseung’s hand went limp in yours at your words, “you shouldn’t feel that way with me, y/n– you know what i am,” heeseung own eyes were filled with sorrow and guilt as he looked at you. your room stayed silent as you take in his words, hearing from him what you’ve been telling yourself the entire time. “but, you’ve changed me forever. you’ve shown me that even in this demon form i still have feelings.”

your gazes locked, in that moment both of you realized that you were both trapped in a blessing and curse. a force that defied the rules of the mortal and death realm. but, despite the risks, both of you couldn’t deny your feelings for each other.

“so then stay with me, at least just for tonight.” you suggested, hoping and praying that he said yes.

heeseung nodded, the weight of your choices on both of your shoulders, “of course.”

with a tender smile, heeseung leaned in, making your lips meet each other in a soft lingering kiss. he pulled away for a moment, taking in your reaction, which is full of longing and neediness, that he leaned in again, longer this time.

instantly, you feel in a big burst just how much you need him. and he could sense it too. you feel him smile into the kiss, almost teasing you about your desperate need for him.

“you want me, y/n?” he mumbled into your lips, not wanting to pull away. you whimper a yes into his mouth, his tongue exploring yours as they mesh together in a more feverish kiss. “‘m gonna make you feel good, angel.” he pressed a quick kiss on the tip of your nose. “why don’t you take your shorts off for me?”

“okay,” you whispered to him. you lay your head further into your pillow as you reach down, untie and then slip off your short– just what heeseung had asked you to do.

heeseung didn’t hesitate to place his hand on your pussy, the part that he didn’t know he’s been missing so much until now. his two fingers started to find your clit, rubbing circles around it. it was a light pressure at first but it already started to feel so good since it was heeseung there with you. his mocha eyes had already turned full black when you looked up at him again, his gaze on you intent as he watched you respond to his touch.

your back started to arch when heeseung picked up his fingers’ pace and pressure. he leaned on his side, holding himself up on his arm as he watched you with a smirk on his face. you were about to tell him to go faster when he suddenly pushed his fingers inside of you, making you gasp out.

“hee– please,” the nickname falling from your lips sent a shiver down his spine, not having heard that name since he was a mortal.

heeseung’s fingers were so much longer than your own, him being able to reach places no one has before. your wet walls took him in so well that it was hard for him to move his fingers.

“tell me how good you’re feeling,” heeseung practically whispered into your ear.

“feels so good, heeseung, please don’t stop.” you begged him, his fingers slowing down their pace for a second so you could respond to him.

“who’s making you feel so good,” heeseung’s voice was stern, “tell me.”

“y-you, heeseung. only you can make me feel so good.”

heeseung chickles at your obedience, “that’s my good angel.”

heeseung didn’t hesitate to then curl his digits, immediately brushing your g-spot, making your toes curl in from the pleasure. you could feel the tension building in your body– growing in your stomach. heeseung loved watching you begin to unfold just from his fingers, but it scared him that he liked it so much.

heeseung had made multiple women feel good in his time as a mortal and as a demon, but he’s never truly cared to make them feel good except for you. with you, he only wants you to feel good again and again and again.

as the pleasure continued, your brain stopped functioning properly, only being able to focus on heeseung and his actions. you were so close to your high that you felt like you could climax at any moment.

heeseung bent his head down and kissed your clit, making your hips arch into his face, causing him to chuckle into your wet folds, “so close are we? feel like you can cum?”

you whimper a yes, “s-so close, please hee.” you just kept begging him tonight. not wanting him out of your reach ever again.

heeseung’s tongue wrapped around your clit, sucking it into his mouth and swirling his tongue around it. a loud gasp escaped your lips as your hand fell down into his black hair, pulling on it for support. heeseung only continued to finger fuck you and suck your clit. his tongue seemingly hitting everywhere that made you feel good.

“right there! please! right there!” you cried out to him, your eyes threatening to shut.

“cum on my fingers, y/n, cum all over like the good angel i know you are.” heeseung’s words were muffled in your wet pussy. your thighs were closing around his hand. the pleasure from his fingers, tongue and words becoming too much for you.

a final wave of pleasure pushed you over the edge, making your body tense and numb as you rocked out your high. your whiny moans and calls of heeseung’s name were the only sounds in the room as heeseung let you ride out your high on his tongue.

when your body finally came down and crashed back down onto your bed you sighed, feeling too weak and happy o push heeseung away from you. he placed a final kiss on your clit and gently pulled his soaked fingers out of you before popping them into his mouth.

you were about to protest before he was humming around them and speaking, “god, you taste so good, i don’t know how i could ever leave you.” you placed your hands over your face, too embarrassed at his statement to look at him. “stop, lemme see your face– i missed it so much.” heeseung pulled your hands away from your face.

“i missed you a lot, too, hee.” you toldhim seriously again. having no idea that heeseung’s spine shivered at the nickname once more.

heeseung pulled the blanket over you both, laying down beside you again. he wraps his arms around you, pulling you into his cold chest. you didn’t mind his lack of body warmth, finding it easier to fall asleep on in your hot bedroom. your fingers interlocked with his as your bodies suctioned together, neither one of you wanting the other to go.

“go to sleep now, angel.” heeseung whispered into your hair, pressing a kiss onto your head.

“i don’t want to.” you toldhim honestly, scared that when you wake up he won’t be here.

“y/n, go to sleep. i promise you i’ll be here when you wake up.”

“promise?”

“i promise. there’s nowhere else i’d wanna be.”

a soft smile spreads on your face as you nestle into his chest, eyes finally closing. you felt his chest rise and fall with every breath he took, even though there was no sound of a heartbeat coming from it.

but as heeseung’s fingers caressed your hair, you allowed yourself to let go of the worries that plagued you. in his embrace you found solace, a refuge from the chaotic reality that awaited you outside of this moment, outside of this house.

your bedroom, in that serene moment, the world slumbered around you two. you finally surrendered to the peace that eluded you for so long. with your heart steadily beating and breaths slowing, you drifted off into a deep slumber. you know that within the confines of this shared embrace, you would find strength to face whatever the future held, united with heeseung that seemed to defy all odds.

when you awakened to the gentle rays of dawn, your eyes fluttered open, instantly shifting to the space beside you. you felt your heart skip a beat when you see that heeseung was still there, his presence warm and comforting against his cold skin.

heeseung was already awake, glancing down at you softly as you fully wake up.

“you’re still here,” you whispered, your voice mixed with surprise and relief.

heeseung’s lips form a tender smile as he speaks, “of course. i’ve been watching you sleep.” he confesses, his words carrying a sense of vulnerability.

a red blush colours your cheeks as you sit up beside him. “and i slept so peacefully. it’s been awhile since i’ve slept this good.”

heeseung’s eyes change with your words to ones of regret, “i know you’ve been so sad,” remorse fills his words, “it feels like all i can do to bring sorrow or fleeting pleasure to people.”

you shook your head, your eyes sincere as you reach out to touch his cheek gently, “you make me happy, hee. just having you here for more than an hour means more than you’ll ever know.”

a graceful smile joins heeseung’s lips, hopefulness in his eyes, “i promise, y/n. i’ll stay by your side forever.”

with his words you realize how isolated and alone you have been feeling with your struggles. but now, with heeseung by your side, you felt like you could do anything in this sanctuary with him. even if he was surrounded with darkness that threatens to consume you.

you quickly push the last thought away, leaning in to brush your lips against his in a gentle, soft kiss. a kiss that both of you find a sense of belonging in. the promise of his presence and unwavering devotion filled your core with happiness.

one evening, as halloween approached, you two found yourselves cozying up on the couch, spending the entire day showing heeseung some popular horror movies. it had been weeks of living in isolation with heeseung, the flickering glow of the screen filled up the living room you’ve been spending the most time in. your fingers were intertwined with his as you both were watching ‘Paranormal Activity’.

heeseung let out an amused huff from beside you as another jumpscare happened on the screen. “i still don’t understand how people can find these movies scary.” he states in bewilderment.

you chuckle softly, putting your head on his shoulder as you do. “well it’s a way to feel scared without any real consequences. like you aren’t actually getting chased by a ghost woman.”

heeseungs laugh fills the room, the tension of your unique situation momentarily forgotten as you absorb the movie. when the credits started to fill the tv, the room fell into a comfortable silence, and your fingers continued to trace random, gentle patterns onto heeseung’s thigh.

“can i ask you something, hee?” you askedhim as he started to find another horror movie to laugh at.

“mhm,” he mumbled a yes, eyes trained on the tv.

you took a deep breath, your fingers stilling on his thigh. “how did you become a demon?”

the question hung in the air, and for a moment you thought he hadn’t heard you. but heeseung slowly put down the remote he was holding and looked over to you. his eyes held a hint of melancholy, as if your question had flashed multiple memories through his mind all at once.

“it’s nothing special of a story, really.” he shrugged and sits back into the couch, attention only on you now.

“okay, but i want to hear it.” you told him and he rolls his eyes playfully, ��please.” you whine only for him to laugh.

“fine, but really, it’s nothing special, i was selfish, i let my desires control me– which made me hurt the people that i cared for. i betrayed their trust, and let my own pleasure overshadow everything else.”

“like what?”

heeseung sighs, “i use to be a musician, and i was in a band.”

“a band?” you exclaim in excitement.

“yes, and we were somewhat popular. a couple of people came to our gigs. mostly women.” you elbow him and he chuckles but continues, “it’s funny, but i’m serious. i used a lot of the women that came to our shows for sex, and then i wouldn’t talk to them again. i didn’t care if they had boyfriends or husbands or girlfriends or– whatever– because i knew i’d be gone the next day to another city.”

“okay, but i don’t know how that would make you a demon, a lot of men are fuck boys.” you interject with confusion.

heeseung hesitated, “well, i had a friend– he was my best friend– jake. he played guitar in our band. and he had this girlfriend– and i- i don’t know.”

you place your hand ontop of his, “it’s okay heeseung, you can tell me. please.”

heeseung sighedagain, but continues, “i was drunk or high a lot and one night, after a show, her and i were in my dressing room, and we– we hooked up.” you take in a sharp inhale at his words, “and jake, he walked in.”

“what did you do then?”

“i- i wanted to chase after him, but minjeong– his girlfriend– told me to stay and that she’d talk to him. and then i didn’t hear anything from them until the next morning and, and–” heeseung sits up, putting his head in his cold hands.

“and what?” you askedhim, your hand instinctively coming to rest on his back.

“they told me– the cops told me, that jake had died in a car crash. he was speeding and he was drunk and he died.”

“i’m so sorry, heeseung i-.”

“no, don’t be.” heeseung sits up and lookedat you, your hand falling from his body. “i don’t deserve to have any sympathy. he’s dead because of me.”

“no, he died because he was speeding and drunk.”

“yeah because he caught me with minjeong. god– and he loved her so much. i don’t know why i did it.”

“well you said it yourself, you were high or drunk. it’s not completely your fault. minjeong also was a part of it.”

ok trigger warning frfr.

heeseung sighs, his eyes closing as he placing his hand over his eyes, “yeah and thats why she took her own life.”

a small gasp left your mouth.

heeseung lookedat you with remorse in his eyes, “i’m sorry, maybe i shouldn’t have told you this.”

“no,” you sit back into the couch’s arm rest, “it’s alright. i just wasn’t expecting it.”

heeseung scoffs, “well you don’t become a demon for no little accident, angel.”

the room feel hoarse and dry as you take in what heeseung has told you. you know he’s a demon, and he’s done awful things. but you just could never imagine the heeseung that you know to cause such awful things to happen to others.

“so,” your voice was small when it comes out, “how did you die?”

heeseung cracks a sinister smile in the corner of his mouth, “an overdose. a month after jake passed.”

“oh my god,” your hand covers your mouth.

“it was an accident. i just needed something to cope with the loss of them both– and the guilt.”

“i’m so, so sorry, hee.”

“no!” heeseung turns to you, almost anger in his eyes as he speaks, “i told you. dont feel sorry for me. i don’t deserve it. jake and minjeong didn’t deserve what i did. and i can’t make up for it– but maybe being a demon– sent to hell for eternity can somehow make up for at least 1 percent of it.”

you swallowed harshly, trying to ignore the self-rage in his eyes, “heeseung,” you began, moving towards him on the couch so you were next to him, holding his hand. somehow in his story you two had separated. “i know that what you’ve done in your past has caused a lot of pain, and guilt. but you’re not alone with this anymore. you have me, and i believe that someone– anyone can change and have redemption.”

heeseung’s eyes changed from anger to gratitude and disbelief, “you don’t hate me for what i’ve done?”

you shook your head no, your heart aching for the demon that you love. “no, hee. i can see that you feel so guilty, and have remorse. we all make mistakes. it’s important that you grow from them, even if it is in an unwanted location.”

heeseung lets out a heavy sigh and finally gives in to your touch. “i’ve carried this burden with me for so long. not a day goes by that i don’t think of them, and how if i had the chance, i would take it all back. i would bring them back to life in an instant.”

you give him a kiss on the cheek, “we all deserve a chance to change and to heal. i believe in you heeseung– im sure not all demons are as loving and guilt ridden as you. i’m here for you.”

heeseung’s eyes soften as he lookedat you. his expression filled with love and relief. he nodded to the couch cushion behind you, wanting you to lay down with him. you do so with no hesitation. your face pressed into his chest, breathing in his scent.

the last words you hear before you fall asleep, wrapped together with heeseung on your couch are,

“you’ll always be an angel.”

the weeks had started to stretch into months, and the isolation, the secrecy and the shadowy nature of your relationship with heeseung was beginning to take it’s toll. the love you shared was undeniable, but it was also tangled in such darkness.

your phone calls with your parents, once filled with excitement, had turned into strained conversations. it seemed like every time the phone rang with their caller id, you found yourself rolling your eyes and snapping at them once you answered. soon, the phone calls stopped happening.

your dreams and aspirations, once a beacon of light for yourself, now seemed like distant fantasies that you could never reach. that you never wanted to reach. you found yourself becoming increasingly negative about everything except for your relationship with heeseung.

after the last phone call from your parents, heeseung’s concern became palpable. he had been watching your calls with your parents overtime, and had seen how dark and mean they had become. his gaze continuously filled with more and more worry. bitterness seemed to have filled you everytime you spoke to your parents, your friends or about your future or interests.

one day, heeseung had caught you staring at the picture of your parents sitting on the window sill in the living room. your eyes were glazed over, but he could tell you were hurting and confused. heeseung prepared himself before walking over to you. his touch gentle as he brushed your hair behind your ear. his cold heart tinged as he watched a beautiful smile spread across your face. the smile he only ever sees when you were talking to him.

“y/n, i need to talk to you.”

“sure, about what?” your smile never left your face as you looked at him so lovingly in the eyes.

heeseung sighed before he speaks, “i’ve noticed your anger, your negativity– you’ve not been who you truly are, for a while now.”

your smile dropped at his words, “what’re you talking about?”

“i’m talking about, how you apparently hate your parents now, and how you don’t want to go to work, or hang out with friends. you just want to stay in this house.”

“well of course i want to stay in this house, “ your hand jutted out and grabbed his arm, “that’s where you are. where you and i can be together.”

heeseung suddenly wants to shake you and hope that it’s enough to wake you up from whatever trance you’ve been in for weeks. but he knows that’s not the solution.

“y/n, angel,” he sits you back down on the couch with him. “i knew this would happen, but i hoped it wouldn’t. but it has.”

“what’s happened?” you asked him confused, feeling your heart pick up its pace at his seriousness.

“when a human interacts with a demon or spirit for too long, it starts to affect them, change them in a way.” you pout as you looked up at him, trying to understand what he’s saying. “i’ve changed you, y/n. i’ve turned you into someone you’re not.”

“no you haven’t!” you argued, ripping your arms away from his grasp.

heeseung sighs, “c’mon angel. you know that you’ve never been such a bitter, negative person. that’s not you! you’re sweet, and kind, and- and an angel!”

heeseungs words seem to break a small bit of ignorance in your brain. tears start brimming your eyes as you looked at him. “i- i don’t know whats happening to me, heeseung. i can’t control it. i feel lost.”

heeseung’s expression turned to pained as he took your hands into his. “y/n, our love is special, but there’s darkness. i’m the darkness. you deserve a life full of light, hope and true love. i’m afraid that i’ve been dragging you down into my shadows, losing you.”

your heart ached at his words, realization setting in. “what do we do, hee? how can we stop it?”

heeseung looked into your eyes, hesitation and regret covering his face before he speaks, “well, there’s two choice, angel. it’s not an easy one, but it’ll make you feel better.”

you nodded, “tell me, heeseung. i’ll do whatever it takes.”

his voice was soft and filled with anguish when he speaks again, “you either come with me to the dark world, where our love can exist with no secrecy, or i leave, and eventually your goodness, your light, yourself, will return.”

your tears started to spill down your cheeks as the gravity of his words sunk in, but you knew what you wanted to do. “i choose you. i’ll come with you.”

but heeseung shook his head, “i won’t let you make that sacrifice, y/n. you deserve a life filled with great things. i can see it ahead of you– i always have been. and i won’t be the one to extinguish your light and life.”

“no! i can’t imagine being without you, heeseung.”

heeseung gripped your hands tighter in his, “i know it feels like that now, but i promise you, you’ll feel so much better without me. you’ll feel love from everyone that cares about you. your family, your friends– the life and people you have in the future.”

“hee, please.”

“i can see your children, y/n. your daughter looks so much like you.”

you burst into tears at his words, your body falling forwards onto his. “heeseung, i- i can’t.”

“you can. and you will. i’m sorry for the pain i’ve caused you. i didn’t want this to happen, but i’m so selfish.”

you take his face into your hands, examining every part of his face, scared that it’ll be the last time you see him, “you aren’t selfish heeseung. you’ve showed me what real love is like– real love is when you love someone no matter their mistakes, you love someone even when others tell you not to. i’m so grateful for you, i can’t let you go.” tears started to fill heeseung’s eyes as well, your warm hands on his cold skin making his dead heart ache. “please, don’t leave, heeseung.”

his voicewasraspy when he speaks, “i have to, angel.”

you shook your head, not wanting to believe it, but knowing deep down it has to happen. you have to get back to your old self. you could not live in isolation with a man who’s not alive anymore. “then please, stay one more night.”

heeseung bit his lip, knowing he shouldn’t, but also knowing he could never say no to you. “okay, angel. i will.”

you instantly press your lips to his. the ever so familiarity of them engulfs both of you.

“i love you.” you told him sincerely.

“i love you, too angel.” his breath fanned over your lips before he’s grabbing the back of your neck with his palm lightly, pulling you closer to him. his tongue entered your mouth, wanting to taste everything from you for what he knows will be the last time.

your hands started to slip down his chest to his black jeans. his own cold hands were keeping your lips locked with his. he ignored your attempts at undoing his jeans by pushing back onto the couch, your lips and tongues still meshing together.

heeseung talented hands pushed aside your shorts and panties, finding your clit so easily now after months spent together. you moaned into his mouth, his fingers adding just the right amount of pressure.

suddenly, heeseung pulled away from your lips. your chests were heaving from the lack of oxygen. he pressed a final, quick kiss to your lips before he delves into your pussy. his fingers keeping your shorts and panties pushed to the side. your juices coat his lower half of his face. his eyes closing as he tastes you, wanting to remember the way the sweetness tingles on his tongue.

two of his fingers slip inside of you, heading straight for your gspot. a gasp of his name left your mouth, and your hand shot to tangle with his soft, black hair.

“you’re so good for me angel, always taste so good.” he mumbled into your wet lips. the vibration of his words rumble through your body and straight back down to your core. your hips found it hard to stay still as heeseung’s implementing pleasure continues through your body. your mind started to become hazy the faster your high approached.

“i’m gonna cum, hee, please, please let me,” you begged him out of habit.

“yes angel, do it for me, let me taste you cum one last time.”

you reached your high with a heavy heart, but pleasure still coursing through your veins as you wanted more of him. you whimper at the loss of contact as he pulled away from your core. only for you to be flipped over onto your stomach. you feel his hands started to pull down your shorts and panties before he discarded them across the living room.

“wanna fuck you from the back, know you love it when i do.” heeseung’s voice spoke, his hands coming down to roughly grab your ass.

“please, sir, want it so bad.”

his hand slapped down on your ass cheek hard, causing your body to rock forward into the couch arm rest. a cry escaped your lips but the pleasure from the slap rippled right down to your gaping core.

“that’s my good girl, beg for this cock.”

“i want your cock deep inside of me, wanna feel it touch my cervix, please sir.”

you heard heeseung’s dark chuckle before he slapped your ass once more as he slipped his hard cock into your wet core. he slipped in so easily and filled you right up. “fuck,” he groaned once he’s balls deep, “like this pussy was made for me.”

you whimper at his words, agreeing with him.

heeseung’s thrusts started out quick and rough, just how you know you both like it. just like how you both know no one else will be able to make each of you feel this good ever again. you know only heeseung could make you feel this high with just his cock.

your nails started to dig into the couch cushion underneath you as heeseung’s thrusts started to get sloppier. your orgasms starting to ignite from the pleasure. grunts, curses and whimpers of each other’s names fill the living room as you both cum at the same time.

your breaths were heavy as heeseung’s sweaty core lays ontop of your back, still wanting to be as close as you as possible before he could never be again. he pressed a kiss into your temple before he slowly pulled out, wincing at your soft whimpers from the overstimulation.

your breaths were steady when you felt something warm and wet start to clean inbetween your thighs. you look and see heeseung fully dressed, wiping the mess you had both made in between your thighs with a cloth. you watched him as he so carefully gets every sticky substance off of you, before he pressed a soft, delicate kiss onto your bare thigh.

when he was done, he placed the cloth on the coffee table and sighed as he meets your eyes and offered you his hand, “come, let’s get you into some clean clothes.”

it was silent between the two of you as heeseung picked out some grey sweatpants and a sweater for you to wear. when you dressed, he layed you down into your bed, pulling the blankets up to your chin and tucked you in. you couldn’t stop the tears from streaming down your face, and you didn’t mention the tears threatening to leave heeseung’s eyes as he sat on your bed, looking down at you for the last time.

“i love you, y/n.” heeseung spoke quietly, as if anyone could hear him.

“i love you, too, hee.”

heeseung’s hand reached out and brushed a fallen piece of hair behind your ear, “you know you’ll always be my angel, right?”

a sad, whimper of a yes escaped your mouth, then heeseung leaned down, pressing his lips into yours. your eyes closed, wanting to take in his presence as much as you could, so you could remember everything in perfect detail.

you’re about to object to him leaving, but when you open your eyes, heeseung was gone.

you sit up in your bed on your elbows, looking around your room frantically. tears were blurring your vision as you tried to find his silhouette in the shadows. but you know it’s no use. heeseung is gone, and you will never see him again.

the days after heeseung left were agnoizingly slow. each moment weighed down by a sense of loss and regret. you wish you could’ve went with him. but the other part of you knows that this was for the best. but his absence felt like a gaping void that seemed like it would never be filled or satisfied. the sunrises no longer held the same excitement for the day ahead of you spent with him, and the nights were now filled with loneliness instead of your shared laughter.

but as the weeks passed, a subtle shift occurred. a shift so subtle that you didn’t realize it had happened until weeks after. the painful hole in your heart started to fill with light that you thought you had lost forever. the world, once shrouded in comfortable, dark shadows, started to regain it’s bright, welcoming colours.

you called your parents.

you dialed their number with a sense of hope, knowing that your past conversations had been filled with anger and resentment. but as your mothers voice greeted you on the other end of the line, you couldn’t help but feel a sense of relief. tears started streaming down yoru face as you began to apologize.

your parents’ voices were filled with love and understanding. they forgave you, and for the first time in a long while, you felt the warmth that came with love and care. it was the first step of healing for you. the first step to rediscovering your brightness that life could offer you.

you began to rebuild your life. working towards finding a journalism job, fixing your relationship with yoru parents, and resetting goals you had lost for months.

you reached out to mary, wanted to make amends for how distant and unkind you were to her. you met at your favourite cafe, the familiar scent of coffee and baked goods creating a comforting atmosphere for your nerves.

mary looked at you with curiosity and concern as she sat down in front of you. you took a deep breath as you both said hello. your voice already filled with sincerity and apologetic.

“i’m so sorry, mary. for the way i’ve acted and how we ended it. i shouldn’t have pushed you away or treated you so poorly. i know you were just trying to help me– and you know, you mean the world to me. so i hope you can forgive me. if not now, then in the future.”

mary’s eyes softened instantly, and offered you a forgiving smile. “of course, i forgive you. it was kinda my fault you met heeseung in the first place.”

his name makes your heart ache, “what do you mean?”

“i’m the one who wanted to use the oujia board remember.”

a smile cracks on your lips, “right, i guess so.” mary laughed for a second, before her eyes widened suddenly.

“so what did ever happen with him? is he, gone?”

you gulpped before you speak, “it’s a long story, but yes, he’s gone.”

mary nodded in understanding, “so what’re you going to do now?”

your shoulders perk up at her question, “well i’m almost done selling the house– and i’ve got a job in new york at a newspaper reporting job.”

mary’s eyes expand in surprise, “that’s great, y/n! but you love that house!”

you shrugged, “i loved that house. i’ve had a change of heart. i want something new, with no memories attached to it– or oujia boards in the attic.”

mary laughed, and offers her coffee mug in the air for you to clink yours together, “here’s to fresh starts– and having no oujia boards in attics.” you smile at meet your mug with her’s, welcoming the new beginning of your life.

as you sipped your coffees together and caught up on each other’s lives, you felt a renewed sense of hope. the future was filled with uncertainty, and the pain of your separation from heeseung always lingered, but you knew the memory of him will only help guide your future.

you were determined to shape a future that would be defined by your newfound strength and resilience, and a life enriched by the lessons you learnt with heeseung.

years have passed, and your time in new york has brought you nothing but amazing opportunities. your life has taken a new, vibrant direction.

now, you stand proudly with your family, beaming with joy as you showed them the very first house you have ever bought. their laughter and excitement filled the air as they explored the town their mother and wife had grown up in.

as the day was soon to be ending, your daughter’s voice chimes up at you, “c’mon mom, let’s go to grandma and grandpa’s for ice cream!”

“yeah! i want chocolate ice cream, mom!” your son jumps up at his sister’s idea.

you agree with a warm smile, following your family back towards your car. but, just before leaving, you cast one last look back at your old home.

there, in your old bedroom window, where the moonlight shined in so beautifully, stands heeseung. his presence is fleeting, but the same playful smirk adorns his face, the very expression that had drawn you to him from the beginning. in that moment, your eyes interlock, and you feel the unspoken connection that had transcended realms.

the certainty settles within your heart that someday, your love will bridge the divide between the mortal and otherwordly, between an angel and a demon.

as you walk away, hand in hand with your husband, you knew that the tapestry of your love with heeseung is far from complete, and the promise of your reunion lingers in the air, like a whisper that only you and heeseung can hear.

@ taeghi, 2023. do not repost or reuse in anyway.

PLEASE REBLOG IF YOU ENJOY, AS LIKES MAKE IT HARD FOR WORK TO BE SPREAD AND ENJOYED BY OTHERS :)

stay safe everyone :)

#enhypen #smut #enhypen smut #heeseung #heeseung smut #enhypen hard hours #enha #hard hours #angst

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daryl-dixon-daydreams · 2 months

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reader pronouns: she/her

Daryl burst into the clinic like a mad bull. Maggie did her best to slow him down and explain. Down the hall, you easily heard the whole thing as you did your best to hold perfectly still as Denise stitched you up.

"The hell is she?!" Daryl roared.

"Just calm down. She's fine," Maggie was insisting. You could picture her with her hands out, trying to slow him down.

"Fine?! She got fuckin' shot! Dun tell me it's all fine," he growled back.

"Daryl—"

Heavy boot steps approached down the hallway. "You might as well tell him we're in here, let him in," you said to Denise.

"Kind of in the middle of something here," she replied, not taking her eyes off the delicate work she was doing on the wound near your hairline.

There was a moment's hesitation outside the door and then Daryl knocked loudly. "Hey—Denise? Can I—"

"Come in, Daryl," you responded loudly. He burst in and his eyes whirred over you. "Hi," you greeted him calmly.

He was clearly relieved to see you vertical. You couldn't move as Denise was still stitching the bullet graze on the side of your face. His face clouded over with a shadow as he peered at you.

"It's just a graze, Daryl."

A flame seemed to flicker in his eyes. "On yer head," he emphasized. "Which means ya were damn fuckin' close to bein' dead."

You winced as the needle pricked a particularly tender spot and Denise muttered an apology. Daryl began to pace in front of you.

"Who the hell would want to shoot ya in the head?" he demanded, his agitation almost growing with every passing second.

"A lot of people want to kill me. I take pride in that," you joked wryly.

"This ain't a fuckin' joke, Y/N!" he barked.

Luckily, Denise had just finished and she dabbed briefly at the wound with a bit of gauze and then put down her tools. "I'll just be—I'm gonna—" She pointed awkwardly at the door and rushed past Daryl and out into the hall.

A thick, heavy silence fell. His gaze was intense. You shrugged and gave him a look. "What do you want me to do, Daryl? It's not like I asked for this."

"I want ya to stay alive," he said forcefully. "And if that means ya dun go outside the walls anymore—"

You scoffed and slid down off the table you'd been sitting. "Don't. You of all people—don't even say it," you warned him dangerously.

Daryl gulped and some of the heat of his anger left him. He chewed on his bottom lip anxiously and paced another line in front of you. "Well—what then? Cuz we can't have ya gettin' fuckin' shot."

"What's the difference? This world is trying to kill all of us, every day, one way or another. The only difference with this is that I know the asshole who pulled the trigger."

Daryl nodded. "Alright. Then we pull the trigger on them first. Cuz I ain't gonna have ya dyin' on me."

"We?"

"Yeah. We. I don't give a shit what this is, ya ain't alone on it. I won't let ya be. I can't."

Prompt: "Who the hell would want to shoot you?" / "A lot of people want to kill me. I take pride in that."

#protective!daryl #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon twd #the walking dead #twd fanfics #daryl dixon drabbles #daryl imagines #daryl x y/n #fanfics #writers of tumblr #twd drabbles

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impishjesters · 6 months

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Jax x Reader w/depression/suicidal tendencies

warning(s): mentions of depression/suicidal behavior/tendencies, nothing graphic though, mentions of morbid/dark humor note: it's only mentioned that he has feelings for you, whether romantic or platonic is left up to the reader. A/N: I think this is the fastest I've ever wanted to write for something utterly new to me, usually it takes a while of being into a series or liking a character to wanna write something. This was...less than twelve hours? This was probably the most self-indulgent thing I've written in a while.

Nobody was safe from Jax’s pranks, including you—regardless of how much he found himself gradually enjoying your company.

It’s actually a right of passage at this point that every new person (as rare as it is) who shows up is subjected to some awful prank to gauge just how much of an easy or difficult target they’ll be.

You handle the pranks with ease. Sure it can be annoying, but there’s little that can seemingly “kill” you here.

Which is a shame really—well, only slightly.

Your therapist would’ve probably found it a good thing, trying to off yourself in a digital world where sleeping and eating were no longer required likely meant the inability to die.

Not in a traditional sense anyway.

You’re the only one ballsy enough to prank Jax back, which isn’t easy but when a prank is successful? Oh, it’s worth it to see his reaction.

There’s an unspoken prank war back and forth, but typically the other’s are the subject of your guys’ pranks. Somehow it feels more rewarding with the joint effort.

It's not often, but sometimes Jax's pranks will go a step too far and trigger something unpleasant. He's not really sure why you just walk off like that, those pranks don't make him feel as satisfied for whatever reason.

Once a special type of friendship grows between the two of you, the pranks lessen—not entirely though—nah he loves the unsuspecting reactions of a prank you didn’t see coming.

The pranks become less hostile and more casual—he’s got a reputation to keep after all, regardless of how he feels about you.

The initial reaction to someone being told there was no way out was to panic, you however, didn’t..well not outright. Your initial reaction is dark humor—even with the whole censorship thing.

Ragatha is the only one initially disturbed/worried over your dark sense of humor, which should be expected from one of them since they’ve been there longer.

Jax is aware of your morbid sense of humor and often plays along with it, especially in the beginning—later in the friendship though? Yeah, there’s no noticeable physical change, but he’s only a tad worried.

When not tormenting the other’s Jax stuck with you, or vice versa.

After the attempted drowning and standing (willingly) in harm’s way of one (or three) of the rides, Jax keeps your bedroom key closer in hand than the others.

And honestly? Ragatha doesn’t even blame him. You aren’t distant from them, but you do tend to favour Jax’s company. Regardless of her feelings about him as a person, it becomes obvious that he feels something less hostile towards you compared to them.

It takes a while before you finally confess to Jax that prior to being trapped in this digital hell, you were medicated for depression/suicidal tendencies. And while the digital world took away things like needing sleep and food, it didn’t get rid of the thoughts or urges.

Now—had this been someone else telling him all this? He’d be very uncaring and probably make a nasty “joke”, but because it’s you? He’s treading into foreign territory here when it comes to emotions.

There’s not really anything he can say that would make you feel better, but he does show a more rare tender side, offering to be there whenever you need him. Just to backpedal like a tsundere and say that he won’t always be free ( a lie, the fuck else does he have to do?), but he’ll try and make time for you during those moments.

He doesn’t do some pinky promise bullshit, I mean he can and would, but he doesn’t expect his offer and attempts to do that much (words of promise aren’t on the same level as a prescription drug after all).

But if being around his rude ass self and doing the occasional nice *gag* gestures of like, hugging or whatever helps you, he’ll do it—just, not with others around obviously. Again, man has a reputation.

From then on Jax is more aware of where you are around him at all times, not in a suffocating way though. Well, not intentionally, he has his moments. But he’s trying, again this is new territory for him.

Jax makes it his unspoken, personal goal to make sure you don’t tread the line of becoming abstracted.

Bonus (fluff)

Jax will make an attempt not to immediately recoil from your touch when others are present.

I’m not talking “Whoops, sorry to bump into you”, I’m talking about grabbing onto his arm or being in his personal bubble because you need something grounding or whatever.

More often than none his immediate reaction is to just use you to lean on, elbow or arm resting on top of your head to give you some contact and pressure. (He does it out of habit even when you don't need it.)

Sure he probably looks like an ass to others, but after a while, they sort of just get used to it since you never bring up being offended by the act.

But in private? Yeah, sure shoot, just don’t expect him to put any effort into returning anything. Maybe the drape of an arm or his legs, but if it’s really bad? He’ll lay or sit there while you cling to him like a koala.

Jax actually finds it kinda funny how tightly you hold on whenever he gets up.

“Wow, you really holdin’ on there.”

#tadc #the amazing digital circus #tadc jax #jax #jax x reader #the amazing digital circus x reader

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eternallovers65 · 2 months

Text

IMPORTANT QSMP DISC0RSE PLEASE READ ‼️‼️‼️‼️

Okay, for those who don't know, the last two days (even tho we have been complain for months) have been absolute hell for the Brazilian community, to the point that a lot of us are agreeing to drop the community as a whole, saying we will only watch our favorite Brazilian streams and that's it; we no longer want to interact or be a part of this server

The Brazilian QSMP Twitter community has been complaining about the fact that the Carnaval event, something that's ours and our creators were excited to share with the rest of the world, wouldn't have our creators be a part of it because of the time. We were complaining because we absolutely have the right to, since, as I said before, it's our culture, the most significant event in our country.

Because of that, a lot of international fans, and it hurts to say this, Latino ones, decided to make mass hate xenophobic tweets about us and our creators. Tweets that vary from saying we should be thankful Quackity invited us because no one knew about the Brazilian streamers (when actually the reality is we have about 8 Brazilian streamers as the most-watched streamers in LATAM) to saying Cellbit, Mike, or Pac should kill themselves, and finally, to bringing back the past relationship Cellbit had with his ex-girlfriend.

Because people who had no idea of the story caused a massive hate towards Cellbit and his girlfriend. So his ex-girlfriend used this opportunity to accuse him of a crime and later deleted the tweet, but the damage had already been done.

So international fans decided to use that as a way to be xenophobic towards us, calling us monkeys and many other racist things, plus mass reporting Cellbit to the point where he had to issue a response. I'll leave the English and Spanish translations here because it's something you all need to read, and beware because of the trigger warning.

The point is, we Brazilians are tired of this community. It no longer feels safe for us. It no longer feels fun for us, and it's absolutely ridiculous that a server that was created upon meeting and embracing new cultures would be so hurtful to us. And it hurts us a lot more, seeing as most of the hate is coming from Latinos themselves (especially toxic fans from quackity's community). French people have been the ones to defend us constantly, when our own neighbors have been nothing but racists to us.

I hope Quackity does something about this because we have been complaining for months, but he continues to be quiet about it, doesn't call out his fans, and pretends nothing is happening we will drop out of this server, even cc's commented how exhausting it is for us. This project was supposed to bring people together, but so far, we have been dealing with a lot of xenophobia, and we are tired.

I know this is more of a Twitter problem since everyone here is chill (even tho i have already seen some xenophobia in here), but I just wanted to fill you guys in on the news. And for those who watch Cellbit, we don't know when the next stream will be since he was just forced to talk about his sexuality and abuse. Please shower him with a lot of love and positive messages. For you guys to have any idea, he's trending #1 in Brazil, and even though the entire country used to hate him because of his ex-girlfriend's lies, everyone is apologizing and saying he's an incredible person.

#qsmp discourse #qsmp discussion #cellbit #qsmp #quackity #qsmp brazil #qsmp brazilians #trigger warnings

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madelynraemunson · 2 months

Text

CALL ME WHAT YOU WANT 𓆩♡𓆪

(Book #1 of the Hellfire Gentlemen’s Club series)

strip club owner!eddie x fem!exotic dancer!hargrove!reader

𝐌𝐎𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐍 𝐀𝐔 18+ MDNI

Chapter 018: Murphy's Law

You’re only against a handful of things. Of course, the one time you go to bed angry, shit hits the fan.

↳ chapters: 001, 002*, 003** , 004**, 005 , 006 , 007* , 008**, 009, 010, 011, 012* , 013**, 014** , 015, 016**, 017, 018, 019, 020*

* = somewhat smutty chapters ** = smut chapters

author's note: 2/23/2024 — i don't want you guys to suffer too much, so the last two chapters will be released tomorrow 2/24/2024. i love you guys, thank you for tuning in ♥️

CW: i don't wanna spoil anything, so this whole chapter is a trigger warning. please be mindful of this before reading; ps thank you to @freckledjoes for letting me use this picture of barron/"steve"

word count: 1.3k words

♡

“I’m Natalia, who are you?”

“I’m...Shy Girl,” you narrow your eyes. “My boyfriend Eddie lives here.”

You've never been good at math. But it doesn't take putting 2 and 2 together to realize that — the car in Eddie's spot this morning — belongs to the Nancy look-alike in front of you.

And if you looked too fast, you would've thought that she WAS Nancy. But the strapless tube top, lettuce-trim booty shorts, and lacy black tights on a cold December morning rule out that possibility.

Your eyes trail over to Steve in the background, frantic and sweaty, hairy chest out on display as he shuffles around to find a shirt to throw on. You clear your throat, meeting Natalia’s blue eyes one more time before speaking again.

"I hope I'm not interrupting anything."

"Oh no girl, you're fine!" the busty brunette chirps, when she realizes you're no longer a threat to her. "I was just heading out. I guess his roomie is going to be back any second now."

Doing your best to conceal your laughter, you step off to the side to allow Steve's booty call to get her things and scoot out the door. Steve watches awkwardly, leaning against the doorway and flashing Natalia a smile as he watches her get to her car safely.

You wait until she’s out of earshot to speak to him.

“Natalia.” you sing with a smirk. “Really?”

“Don’t make that face.”

“What face?”

“The one you’re making right now, Hargrove. Don’t start.”

Your eyes venture down to the faint bite marks on Steve’s neck. You turn around to look at the doppelgänger one last time, giving her a wave as she drives away.

“Not starting anything,” you insist. “I just think it’s funny.”

He knows what you’re thinking and it doesn’t help his case. Steve steps off to the side, inviting you in. After closing the door behind you, Harrington gestures towards the box in your hand.

“Whatchu got there?”

“Apology cupcakes for Eddie,” you explain. “I was a real bitch to him yesterday so I decided to bake him something to compensate.”

You spent all night guilt-baking, hoping to win Eddie back with the cute vanilla cupcakes topped with sad red frowns on them, followed by a homemade card that reads, "I'm sorry for pushing you against the wall". Expecting Steve to find it adorable, he offers you a rather confused reaction instead.

"…Eddie didn’t stay over last night?” he asks with a cocked brow.

Your heart sinks.

“No… I thought he came straight here after Wayne’s.”

“Well obviously he didn’t,” Steve says. “Hence why I had Nat spend the night.”

“Well do you think he’s at Dustin’s?”

“I’m not sure, I haven’t spoken to the guy since yesterday morning.”

Something's off. Immediately rushing to the living room, you set the cupcakes down so you can call Wayne. It rings a few times but Eddie's uncle doesn’t pick up.

"Wayne's not picking up."

“That’s odd,” Steve gulps. “He almost always does.”

So you go to message Eddie. It's a simple text, Where are you? Straight to the point. To your complete shock, your usual blue text bubbles turn green. Eddie's phone is off. What the hell?

So you go to call him next. It doesn't hurt to try. But then your knees start to buckle when you're immediately directed to an automated voicemail box.

“We’re sorry. Your call cannot be completed as dialed. Please try again later.”

The room is as frostbitten as the air outside. Steve senses abrupt energy shift.

You scroll nervously through your phone. The next person to contact is Dustin. Outside of his friendship with Steve, he is the next person closest to Eddie. But Curly doesn't pick up either.

"Oh god," you feel the color rushing from your face.

"Hargrove, i-it's okay," Steve attempts. "He's probably with Jeff or Gareth or Grant or somethin', o-okay? Let's not jump to conclusions."

He rests a warm hand atop your arm, grounding you back down to earth. You turn to him with worry. He rubs your back to comfort you.

"Eddie would never do anything to hurt himself on purpose," Steve assures you. "I can promise you that much. Don't let your mind go there."

"Okay," you exhale.

"But he is stupid though," Steve adds. "So, to be safe, we should probably check the hospital. Or urgent care. Dude probably cucked his ankle again."

And with that, you two set off to Hawkins Memorial on the other side of town.

The icy roads seem to draw on for miles as Steve drives. And you had no desire to explore the vastness of Roane County, for as long as Eddie isn’t there waiting for you at whatever coordinate the wind blows you to next.

Tapping your feet anxiously on the floor, you click your phone on and off again to see whether or not a message from Eddie pops up. It’s the same outcome every time.

Steve’s gentle hand rests on top of your trembling ones once again. He gives you a soft pat.

“It’ll all be okay, Shy Girl,” he says to you. “Promise.”

Thankfully, hospital parking is almost immediate. Booking it to the emergency department now, you and Steve rush to get to the front of the line to speak to the receptionist. When it's finally your turn, she greets you rather stoically.

“Can I help you?”

Without violating HIPAA?

“I sure hope so,” you sigh. “This is a wellness check. Do you guys maybe have a Munson admitted here?”

“Munson…” the last name marinates on the lady’s tongue almost as if she’s familiar with it. You wouldn’t doubt it. Wayne’s a frequent flyer due to the cancer and Hawkins is quite literally a speck of dust on the map.

You try to help her. “Maybe an Eddie…Edward… or quite possibly a Wayne…”

“Quite possibly a Wayne?” the lukewarm secretary echos you.

“Yes!” you hiss urgently. “Or maybe a John Doe? A guy in his late twenties, early thirties... This person most likely came in yesterday afternoon, night, or maybe even this morning. He has brown hai-"

“Shy Girl…” comes a voice behind you.

It’s one of the Munsons you’re looking for. But to your surprise, not the one you were expecting.

"Wayne..." you breathe.

In front of you is Eddie's uncle, sitting in his wheelchair evidently a bawling mess. If he’s here and Eddie’s not, it can only mean one thing.

Your throat tightens and you struggle to speak. A thin veil of tears gloss over your eyes, your fingertips essentially frozen now as the sterile white building closes up around you.

“Wayne…” you say again. “What happened?”

His uncle sniffs, drawing out uneven breaths as he tries to calm down, nose an irritable red to match his glassy, sleep-deprived eyes.

“There’s... been an accident,” he chokes. “They T-boned him. Van is totaled.”

That van. That stupid fucking van you’ve told Eddie time and time again to get rid of.

“Wayne," Steve interrogates. "Who drove you here?”

“The Henderson boy.”

You can't take it anymore.

“Where is he?!” you demand. “And why aren’t you with him, Wayne?! WHERE IS EDDIE?”

“Doctors won’t tell me nothin'!” Wayne blubbers, his voice cracking like a helpless child. “But as someone whose second home is the hospital, I know what that means.”

The three of you take this time to cry. You instantly collapse into Steve's arms. He embraces you tight, dragging you off to the side so the people who were waiting behind you could be helped next.

Nothing matters anymore, you think to yourself. This is what you get for going to bed angry. The one time. The one time. And as the three of you start to gather yourselves again — rather slowly — Wayne speaks once more... uttering a belief that you've already come to terms with. Something that you already know.

“It’s not looking good for Eddie.”

🏷️ tag list: @chrrymunson , @the-fairy-anon , @ali-r3n , @corrodedcoffincumslut , @bebe07011 , @mmunson86 , @eddiesguitarskills , @chelebelletx , @imonhereforareasonsadly , @eddies-trailer-babe @motherfckerr , @jxpsi , @sidthedollface2 , @manda-panda-monium , @elvendria , @micheledawn1975 , @hereforshmut , @siriuslysmoking , @mediocredreams @nymphetkoo , @m-chmcl-rmnc , @ahoyyharrington , @keepittoyourselftellnobodyelse @kellyxo1 @emsgoodthinkin @winchester-angel @chloe-6123 , @redbarn1995 @angietherose @kiyastrf94 , @purplewitchcauldron @kellsck @joyfulfxckery @munsons-mayhem28 @dragonfire @emma77645 @drivelikenina @livosssblog @thinkingth0ts @hugdealer @ellielunamckay @xblueriddlex @maskofmirrors @babyloutattoo89 @queenofhawkins

oh yeah, song of the chapter is...

side note: s/o to DR. bridgit mendler, the irl barbie

#eddie munson #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #strip club owner!eddie #stripper!reader #eddie munson angst #boyfriend!eddie munson #wayne munson #steve harrington #stranger things #stranger things 4 #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things fanfic #joseph quinn #joe quinn #Spotify

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glorismorningstar · 26 days

Text

LIONHEART

Pairings: girlfriend!Lute x f!reader, fatherfigure!Alastor x f!reader, Charlie x overprotective!Vaggie + f!bodyguard!reader, situationship!Carmilla Carmine x f!reader

Summary: Charlie is asked to attend a meeting with Heaven, and Vaggie asks Y/N to keep an eye on her. Begrudgingly, she agrees, but not without taking the necessary precautions. A dreaded yet hoped-for encounter occurs, which triggers unforgettable memories.

Warnings: daddy issues, canon-typical violence, Adam being Adam, brief lesbian smut, fluff, angst, grief, sadness, mentions of sex, WLW

A/N: I'm fully aware that the trailer was a major flop, but this story is purely self indulgent and has been in my head for so long that I need to get it out :)

| Part 0 // Part 1 // Part 2 |

˚₊‧ ꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

77 YEARS LATER…

“So, what do you think?” Alastor asked as he turned off the TV. He had just shown us the commercial he'd made for the hotel, and while Charlie and Vaggie were off-put and disappointed, I had to hold back a snort of laughter.

“That was hysterical,” I laughed, resting my elbows on top of the backrest of the couch. “May I have a copy of that?”

“Y/N!” Vaggie barked.

“Right, right!” I cleared my throat. While this was one of the most entertaining things I'd seen in a long while - since that dipshit Vox was unable to put on anything good in the seven years that Alastor was gone, or even before that - it wasn't oriented to what we wanted to do for sinners, it did not once mention redemption or our ambition to help souls checking out into Heaven.

“I'm sorry, what the fuck was that?” Vaggie snapped.

“Uh, yeah, one note… Alastor…” Charlie hesitated, trying to find the words to criticize the commercial without aggravating Alastor, whose grin hadn't wasted a beat in growing strained. “I mean, first off, thank you so much for making this, seriously amazing! But, um, maybe the tone is a bit off.”

Alastor, tilting his head a little and furrowing his brows in his own fashion of a glare, was visibly offended, expression betraying his ever-present smile. I had always found his grin curious, ever since the day he and Rosie had rescued me, I wondered about his choice to smile permanently. A smile is a powerful tool, he'd say, it keeps your friends inspired, your enemies guessing, and assures that no matter what happens, you're the one in control.

“We want people to want to come here, but this makes it look… um…” she continued, attempting to word her sentence properly.

“Bad. The word you're looking for is bad.” Vaggie completed. While Sera had taught me to be polite, her brutal honesty was refreshing.

“Funny, I was going for hilarious!” Alastor said and tilted his head to the side, neck rolling with a crack.

“Agreed, but comedy isn't the purpose of the ad.” I said with a soft tilt of my head.

“It didn't say anything about how we're trying to save demons from the extermination, which is the whole fucking point.”

“Vaggie is right, Alastor. The commercial is to let sinners know we are trying to help them.” Said Charlie.

“Well, my dear, I haven't been active in Hell for quite some time and everyone remembers me from my radio show - the proper medium to express oneself,” he said, holding his finger up for emphasis, which made me chuckle, then I laced my fingers together and rested my chin on my conjoined hands. “But you insisted on this noisy picture box advertisement! So I had a little fun with it.”

His inability - and unwillingness - to hide his thinly veiled contempt for modern technology never failed to amuse me. I was among the oldest beings in creation, only younger than very few souls, but I had grown accustomed to television, cinema and social media. His insistence on radio broadcasts and their superiority was quite humorous.

“Oh, fun? You had a little fun with it?” Vaggie said, getting up from her seat. She was about to lose her patience, and I couldn't blame her. This was an important thing, for it to work out, it was vital that it was taken seriously by everyone involved. “This is not what we want to represent us! When you showed up here a week ago, you said you would help run this hotel, instead you're mocking us! No one is gonna come to a place that a powerful Overlord like you thinks is a waste of time.”

As if on cue, a pink gloved hand raised from the couch opposite the fireplace. I sighed and tilted my head to look at him, boredly smushing my cheek against my hand. “What?”

“If'n ya filming a commercial, can I suggest you take better advantage of the talented celebrity you have right here?” Angel Dust asked, four fingers pointing at himself.

“I don't know if you can, but you most certainly may not.” I sighed, pinching the bridge of my nose in exasperation. His views on sex were the polar opposite of mine. Heavenly standards had always discouraged giving in to such temptations, but that was one among the many ways in which I had rebelled. Nevertheless, for me sex had always been a way to express strong feelings of affection rather than just a simple exchange of bodily fluids. When I lived in Heaven, Lute and I had always made love with the purpose of worshiping and pleasuring each other, while Angel did so simply for the sake of reaching the climax, which I found immature and foolish.

“Angel, you're a porn star.” Vaggie pointed out with visible dismissal of his idea.

“A famous porn star!” He corrected. “I'll have the horniest sinners knocking these walls down to get in.”

“We're not filming a porn as a commercial.” Vaggie spoke, as if it wasn't obvious enough to the effeminate man.

“Why not?”

“Where do I begin? It's disgusting, it's unrealistic, it's immoral, and it makes little to no sense, among other things.” I listed out, counting each point on my fingers while I gazed at him with a grimace.

“No sense? Sex sells, don't it?” He said, rubbing his fingertips together. “I swear, if you film me going at it with Mr. Fancy Talk Creepy Voice here, you'd be rolling in participants willing to stay at this tacky hotel.”

The simple thought made me gag. Alastor's asexuality was to be respected, for his sake and for my own peace of mind. “Ha, ha! Never going to happen!”

“Angel, I appreciate you wanting to use your… special skills to, um… attract folks to the hotel, but I really don't want to exploit you! In that way.” Charlie winced, giving a polite but awkward smile to dismiss such a notion.

“Oh, please, baby, this body was made to be exploited,” he drawled and puffed his chest, making poses to highlight his sexual desirability. “I got the arms, I got the stamina, I got the legs, I got the lung capacity, ha, ha, I got the legs! The gag reflex, the holes, the chest fluff the everyone thinks are tits-”

His narcissistic rambling was interrupted by Charlie's ringtone, which made me breathe a sigh of relief and stop tugging on my ears. As she excused herself to take the phone call, I zoned out for a minute, tail curling around my hip as the fluffy tip twitched idly. I heard her say “dad”, which drew a soft smile from me. If only Lucifer had been there to support my rebellion then, maybe things might have been a little different. I hadn't seen him in ages. We used to get along fairly well, and when I needed secret meetings to try to make peace, he was my main contact. Despite our friendship, I knew he'd recognize me immediately if he saw me again, so I refrained from reaching out.

I was snapped out of my thoughts when I heard Husk once again rejecting Angel's flirting. It really was annoying.

Husk and I had met through Alastor, as the poor guy was owned by the Overlord. We had more in common than I'd thought, including our feline traits, both physical and characteristic, and a mutual annoyance with Angel Dust. I felt bad for how Alastor treated him, I always believed it was unfair, but his rage was one of the most chilling, terrifying things one could ever witness, and I wasn't stupid enough to allow myself to be the object of his frustrations. It was already a miracle he was the closest thing to a father I'd ever have.

“Vaggie! Holy shit!”

“Pah!” I yelped, ears pulling back as Charlie's outburst startled me.

“Ah! What?”

“Get over here!”

Their cute relationship made a fond chuckle fall from my lips, watching with a small smile as Vaggie walked over behind the wall to talk to Charlie.

When I heard her mention a meeting with the leader of the exorcist army, my stomach dropped to my knees. Adam.

He was almost my brother-in-law, brought into my social circle by Lute. I didn't admire him like he liked to think everyone did, but I did respect him, for Lute's sake. It was important to her that I got along with her best friend, and I couldn't deny her such a thing.

- I can do this, somehow I know it

I'll get Heaven behind my plans

- Charlie, hold on

I could hear Charlie singing. She did always have a thing for singing songs at random times, a habit that straddled the line between endearing and entertaining, and annoying and irritating.

- There's just no way I could blow this

Not this once in a lifetime chance

- It's just a meeting

Ah, yes, just a meeting, I thought with a sigh. The poor girl was about to go to her first meeting with Adam of all people. It was like taking her driver's test in a bus.

- To change their minds, to touch their hearts

Or whatever angels have

I frowned a little at the prejudice. Angels do so have hearts. It was the hypocrisy that bugged me.

- This could be bad

- Cheer up, Vaggie

This could be swell

Something tells me that today is gonna be a happy day in Hell

- Okay, but just don't sing to them

Ah, the famous last words. Charlie was already out the door before Vaggie could even finish the sentence, strutting around through Hell as if it were the land of cupcakes and rainbows.

- That bitch is halfway down the street

- Is she-?

- Oh, she's dancing

- Ugh, no

I sighed and leaned against the door frame, tail curling as I watched the princess walking down the street. “Y/N, you should accompany her to the meeting. Say you're the bodyguard or something.”

“Ha, ha, yeah, right.” I laughed with pure sarcasm. The simple idea of being in the same room as someone with divine ordainment after almost eight decades made my head spin with anxiety.

“Fine, then at least keep an eye on her. Make sure she doesn't run into some weirdass on the way.” Vaggie proposed. While it bordered on stalking, it was true that Charlie could be a bit too carefree, and it was the least I could do to help.

“Fine.” I groaned, pulling on the hood of my cloak, and followed her path down the street, dodging disgusting views and unpleasant sinners on the way. The fact that I'd be hearing Adam's voice after this long was nerve-wracking, to say the least. I wouldn't be speaking to him, obviously, if it were so I would have outright fainted, but being in a one mile radius of any personality from the right side of the pearly gates made my lungs constrict.

˚₊‧ ꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

As I stood in front of the tall golden tower of Heaven's embassy, a flurry of edgy butterflies swarmed in my stomach. I inhaled deeply through my nose and slowly exhaled through my mouth, then hurried inside after Charlie before the door could close, slipping in the shadows to keep her from seeing me.

When she signed the paper and entered the meeting room, I finally relaxed and laid on one of the couches in the deserted lobby, pulling my hood down and sighing as I stared at the ceiling. I could hear Adam's boisterous laugh, muffled by the walls, and my stomach did a backflip. I buried my face in my hands and took a few deep breaths, trying to get my shit together.

“You think I'd come down there? No, I mean, I love the vibe. Totally, love your tunes. Pretty fuckin’ hardcore, don't get me wrong, but it's such a bummer, man. Everything down there is so bleugh, heh… ew.” His shenanigans never failed to make me roll my eyes. I never once agreed with him on anything, barely even on the smallest of dilemmas, like which milkshake flavor was the best. But there was an unspoken agreement between us to put up with each other's shit, motivated by our closeness with Lute.

My gaze then flickered around the room, which hadn't changed in seventy-seven years. I could remember when I'd first been here to meet with Lucifer in secret to attempt to stop the exterminations. It all felt like it was eons ago, when in reality it hadn't even been half a century, a microscopic fraction to my long life as a Seraphim.

“Adam, sir… Mr. Adam, sir-”

“Call me Dickmaster.”

A ghost of a laugh fell from my lips at the nickname. It had been so long since I'd heard him and his narcissistic ramblings about his sexual prowess. Word in Heaven and outside was that he was just as good as he purported, which I didn't find too hard to believe, as he was neither an unattractive nor an inexperienced man.

“It's the solution to our biggest problem!”

“Herpes! Yeah, that's a bitch.”

“No, our other biggest problem!”

“Oh, um… ugly people? Math? Global warming! No, wait, that's Earth's problem. When you take her out for the fifth time and she still expects you to pay the check, and you're like, hey, I thought you wanted equality!”

“No! Our shared problem of overpopulation in Hell.”

“Oh! Well, that's not a problem! We've got that covered! Lute, how many demons-”

Lute?

Lute was here?

I scrambled to the door and pressed my ear up against it, listening for any sign of her, her voice, her footsteps, her auditory mannerisms. Anything.

“Got a good 275 this year, sir.”

I rested my hand against the door and sniffed, breathing out a shaky, broken sigh as I slumped into a ball on the floor, leaning my ear against the cold surface. Hearing the ethereal sound of her voice after eight decades felt like reaching an oasis after having wandered the desert, a ray of sunlight in a dark tunnel. My eyes flooded with tears as I let out silent sobs, covering my mouth with my hand as I kept listening for her voice, in desperate need of getting whatever glimpse of her I could.

I wondered what she thought of me now, so long after I disappeared with no trace. I could barely even imagine the pain she must have gone through - or was still going through - if she thought I was dead… or worse, if she thought I abandoned her. If she thought I didn't love her and Emily and Sera anymore, and decided I'd live a better life elsewhere. The thought of her hating me made me choke a sob, the hearing range too short for the emotions I wanted to show.

For fuck's sake, she was the love of my life. Why the fuck didn't I go in as the bodyguard? What was going through my head when Charlie said she'd be meeting Adam? You can't have Adam without Lute, how stupid could I have been to not think of that? I missed her face so much… her golden, intelligent eyes, her pretty little nose, her mischievous smirk, her thick, fluttering eyelashes… God, how I loved her face…

“They're not the same. They had their chance, and they earned damnation.”

I didn't even care what she was saying right now, I just needed to hear her.

“...but everyone makes mistakes.”

“Angels don't make mistakes.”

“You really think that?”

“I know that.”

I'd heard that before.

˚₊‧ ꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

With a last harsh suck to her clit, her thighs clamped around my head and she cried out my name, squirming and mewling as my face remained buried in the paradise between her legs. I lifted my head to meet her eyes and licked my lips clean of her sweet juices while her hand lingered on my hair, grip on my locks loosening as her chest heaved with the exertion. Giving her an affectionate smile, I shifted to get up and grab something to clean her, but she stopped me before I could do so. “Stay.”

I smiled at her and leaned my head on her thigh, planting the occasional kiss on her soft skin. “I love the way you taste.”

“You say that every time you go down on me.” She giggled, carding her fingers through my hair.

“And I'll keep saying it over and over, my love.” I smiled, resting my forehead on the soft flesh of her thigh and closing my eyes.

I heard her let out a quiet chuckle as her hand kept stroking my hair, head falling back against her pillow as she slowly regained her breath. Everything about her mesmerized me. Being with Lute felt more right than being with any man in this universe. The way she tasted, the way she smelled, the way she looked, the noises she made, they all made me fall in love with her more with each encounter. My thoughts wandered to her military training and the extermination. Even putting aside the betrayal of Sera making such a decision, with the way Lute spoke about enrolling in the army, I'd never have peace of mind. Heaven was a lie, indeed. I wanted to stop it so badly, to protect Emily from such knowledge, to find a solution different from violence, to take some weight off Sera's shoulders, to save Lute's life.

I shook such thoughts out of my head and crawled up to lie flat on top of her, giving her a tender kiss on the lips and resting my forehead on hers. She wrapped her legs around my waist, locking her ankles on my lower back, and said, “What's with the frown, princess?”

I sighed and looked at the helmet on her nightstand, then back into her eyes. “Do you think it's possible to make peace with Hell?”

“What?” She asked with something between a scoff and a laugh. “Of course not. They had their chance to be good, and look at what they did instead.”

“And that was a mistake,” I conceded, tenderly brushing the hair out of her eyes. The last thing I wanted to do was make this boil over into an argument, so I kept my tone soft and gentle. “But there's no one that doesn't make mistakes.”

“Angels don't make mistakes, love.” She replied.

“Strongly disagree.” I sighed, looking to the side again with a small frown. To name a few, Sera chose to approve the extermination and put Adam, of all people, in charge. It was true that he was sort of an in-law to me, and the best that could be said of our relationship was that we had mutual respect, but he was self-absorbed, reckless and obnoxious, a testosterone-fueled wind-up soldier that marched wherever his sex-clouded brain told him to. And to think that poor Emily still believed she lived in this perfect, unbiased realm of bliss.

“Hey,” Lute cooed, taking my chin in between her fingertips and tipping it to meet her eyes. “What Sera did was for your own good. She just wants to protect you, and so do I.”

She then grabbed my cheeks and pressed a soft kiss to my forehead. The gesture made me smile a bit. I knew she wanted my wellbeing, but if only there was a way to do so that wasn't so violent…

“Come on, no more pouting,” she said, nuzzling our noses together. “What do you say we cuddle a bit and tomorrow we go out for ice cream?”

“Hmm… sounds fun. Thank you.” I mumbled and trailed a few soft kisses across her shoulder, then rested my head on her chest and closed my eyes, reveling in her presence.

My gaze once again fell on her exorcist's helmet. Those rotten black horns, striped with white and curled at the tips, the × over the right eye and that ragged smile… I loathed everything about it. The fear of losing her to this was too big. I'd do whatever it took to spare her and my family from this barbarity.

˚₊‧ ꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

The moment Adam opened the door, the color dissipated from my skin.

He was holding Charlie by the wrist - thankfully she had her back to me - and beside him was Lute.

Lute, in that familiar gray uniform and that horrible mask.

Her eyes met mine for a split second and I felt the wind being knocked out of me when she squinted and her body language shifted ever so slightly, which made me gasp and pull my hood back on, ears pulling back in fear and tail taking cover between my legs, and in the time she simply blinked, I ran away on all fours as fast as my legs could carry me, not stopping until I reached the hotel. My legs felt like they could crumble any second, my lungs screaming for breath and my throat begging for water, but I wouldn't stop until I was far away from the embassy.

˚₊‧ ꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

As night befell the Pentagram, I laid on my bed and stared out the window in deep thought about the day's events. I opened the drawer in my nightstand and grabbed a picture, gazing at it fondly. It was me and Lute on date night, slow dancing to some cheesy love song we liked. I had an arm around her while my free hand held hers as she looked at me with heart-shaped eyes.

I wondered if she'd still look at me that way now, if she didn't hate me for disappearing without a message or note or any information on where I'd gone beforehand. A part of me didn't want to know the answer.

My phone dinged with a new notification, snapping me out of my thoughts. “Fuck.”

Hey corazón <3

21:14

You coming over tonight?

21:14

Shit, Carmilla. When my brain registered Lute's presence earlier today, everyone else was dead to me. Thankfully, I was grounded back to reality when I got back to the hotel, but I couldn't just ditch Carmilla for a person I may or may not see ever again. Then again, I couldn't abandon Lute, the woman I loved with all my heart and soul for years on end, for a mere carnal relationship.

I sighed and texted back my response,

Sorry babe, I'm not in the mood tonight :(

21:17

Good night

21:18

#hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel #alastor x reader #hazbin husk #hazbin hotel alastor #hazbin hotel lute x reader #hazbin alastor #hazbin angel dust #hazbin lute #hazbin vaggie #hazbin charlie #hazbin hotel charlie x reader #charlie morningstar x reader #hazbin hotel carmilla #carmilla carmine #carmilla x reader #carmilla carmine x reader #lute x reader

223 notes · View notes

eetherealgoddess · 3 months

Text

Before you continue, this ends dark as hell so I’m gonna warn you rn!!! Hope you like it anyway! ♡︎♡︎

ꨄEscaping Bonten is for Scrapsꨄ

Oneshot - Yandere Bonten/Assassin Au

❦You are an assassin that’s after a target Bonten already has their paws on❦

Sano Manjiro, Hanemiya Kazutora, Sanzu Haruchiyo, & Haitani Brothers x Reader

Not fully proofread

MY TR FANDOM WORKS ARE ONLY ON TUMBLR, AO3, AND WATTPAD UNDER EETHEREALGODDESS! REPORT IF YOU SEE IT POSTED UNDER ANYONE ELSE BUT ME!!!

I apologize if I get any Japanese etiquette or culture wrong, I literally have to research the culture for some of my fandom stories so if anything is wrong, please excuse my ignorance.

Notice:

✩Y/n is 18+. I picture her as a black female but you can see her however.

✩Some parts of the story may not be realistic or factual. After all, this is a work of fiction.

✩Although it's a dark 'romance,' I do not condone any of the behavior displayed.

✩Dark content such as: gore, violence, triggering topics, graphic scenes, vulgar language, explicit sexual content, etc.

✩There may be scenes that involve non con and/ or dubcon so don’t read if that makes you uncomfortable

✩That being said, this story is for 18+ only.

Enjoy!

Escaping Bonten is for Scraps

You eye around the busy nightclub, pushing through the crowd as you search for your assigned target. Eyebrows furrowed as your nose scrunches at the thick tobacco smell mixed with alcohol and a variety of cologne and perfume.

“Where is this guy?” You hiss, shoving a drunk person to the side as you head to the back of the building. Once you push the doors open, you see the tall staircase, sighing before stepping on.

Why did I have to get assigned to a club?

It’s not that you were against the party scene, it’s just not ideal for a mission to find someone you need to kill. Your boss chose you for the assignment created by a bitter divorcee. You roll your eyes as you remember the file stating, “Please murder my cheating ex husband.” Of course, your company is underground and perfect for not being caught, though why risk going to prison over a cheating spouse?

Fortunately, this should be fairly quick. The soon to be deceased spouse is known for his drinking habit, speaking belligerently as he drunkenly walks from bar to bar which makes him an easy target. You followed him here, his third club of the night. You couldn’t help but feel a little sorry for him considering he is just minding his business and drinking on his lonesome. Sure, he’s bitter as well and is a slob but it’s probably just a down point in his life.

At least I’ll put him out of his misery.

Once you reach the top of the staircase, noticing that the whole floor is empty, you pull your gun out, readying it to use. You hold it down to your side as you walk from room to room, searching for your victim. When you see that the whole upper stairs is empty, you hide your gun, and walk towards the exit of the room you just entered. Your eyes widened when you heard a scream coming from behind you.

You turn around and quickly move to the window, squatting, hiding yourself behind the wall so the people outside couldn’t see you. Easing your head up, you peeked to the outside. Standing at the back of the building, a group of men in suits hover around a kneeling man who’s covering his head as one of the men slams his foot against his side, causing him to fall over. You notice a smaller man who stood in the middle of the suited men walk closer to the male on the ground.

Your eyebrows raise when the man is forced to put his arms down as the shorter man crouches in front of him, realizing the guy is your target.

“What did this guy get himself into?” You whisper to yourself before moving quickly to crack the window so you can decipher what’s occurring.

“You owe us a lot of money, Nakamura.” A man with two blonde strands says, his wide eyes staring deeply at the victim.

“I-I know! I’m going th-through a divorce. I j-just need more time!” He coughs out blood in between his words. The short man in front of him leans in.

“You’ve wasted my time.” He stands up before moving back, motioning for the purple haired man holding the baton to walk forward.

He swings his arms back before slamming them down with a smirk on his face. He repeatedly hits the man over and over again with so much force that blood splatters on his own suit. The man cries out in pain as he becomes light headed.

You wince as you watch this painful sight.

Damn, now I’m feeling even more bad for this guy. I think I’m just going to go ahead and shoot him. Help him out, forreal.

Standing up completely, you aim at the man’s head perfectly with the gun. Without needing the other guy to stop beating him, you pull the trigger, a shot ringing out loudly. The bullet penetrates his head, killing him on the spot. The men, startled, looked around their surroundings as the pink haired man turned to the window, his blue eyes catching yours before you turned on your heel and ran.

“Fuck, he saw me!” You hiss as you run down the stairs, gun hidden as you push through the crowd.

Fortunately, it looks as though you all are into some shady business, though that doesn’t mean you want to catch their attention. You run out of the exit and rush to your car parked at the side of the building.

“Shit, shit, shit!” You rush to unlock the car before hopping in. Before you could close the door, a hand blocks the door. Your wide eyes meet purple orbs before you're pulled out of the car by your shirt. Before you could grab your gun, your front is forced against the car as your gun is grabbed and aimed at your head. The man with the purple mullet holds your arms behind your back with one hand. Before you could say anything, the butt of the gun meets your head, darkness engulfing your vision.

When you first wake up, your eyes meet a dimly lit warehouse, a throbbing pain at the side of your head causes you to pull against the restraints you didn’t know were there to touch your head. Groaning your eyes, the rope strategically tied around your ankles strapping you to the chair.

“Damn.” You breathe out. The click of a gun sounded next to your head causing you to make eye contact with the blue-eyed man you saw before.

“You’re an assassin working for an underground company, right Y/n?” You look up to see the short man sitting on a chair in front of you at a distance. The men stood around him, eyeing you.

“Who am I answering to?” You question, resulting in the gun being pushed against your head harder causing you to wince, the spot where you were once hit feeling raw under the barrel of the weapon.

“I don’t repeat myself.” The sunken eyed man states, his white hair hovering over his face.

“Yes.” You spit out, frustration being the only emotion to decipher at the moment.

“You work for Bonten.” You gasp at the familiar name.

“What the hell are you talking about?” The gun smacks against your face, forcing your head to lean to the side as you squeeze your eyes shut in pain.

“Watch your mouth.” The pink haired man growls, using one hand to force your head back in place before replacing the barrel in the same spot.

“You will keep your assassin title and you will work under the executives.” Your eyebrows furrowed.

“Or what?” You hiss. The pale man signals for the taller short haired man to walk towards you holding his baton. He smiles before pulling it back and slamming it against your stomach. You lean forward before coughing out blood.

“You die.” Your new boss states.

A few months pass before you’re completely used to the yakuza scene. There are times when you wonder what exactly did they see in you to ‘hire’ you as an assassin working under the executives. It wasn’t a hard job, basically like the one you were used to besides the power dynamic. Although you worked under an old boss, he treated everyone equally and you had normal coworkers who you’d go out to the bars with occasionally. You were free to live your own life as long as you didn’t get caught.

Working under Bonten, you weren’t allowed the same freedom as your executives. Your job title was assassin but considering their low respect for you, sometimes you were a maid, assistant, butler, etc. At least that’s what it felt like when you had to run errands for them that didn’t involve shooting a bullet in someone’s head. Sure it’s nicer than killing but who wants to work to serve a bunch of disrespectful men?

Not to mention, you weren’t allowed outside without being accompanied by one of the executives. Of course, the executives you wouldn’t mind being around such as Mochi, Kakucho, Koko, and Takeomi weren’t the ones who accompanied you. It was always the Haitani brothers, Kazutora, or Sanzu. Even when you’re supposed to be off the clock you were always around at least one of them. You no longer have your own apartment and have to stay in a designated room in a penthouse that holds all of your rooms, though everyone else owns their own homes.

Currently, you are sitting in the vip section of one of the Haitani brother’s clubs, arms crossed along with your leg as you lean back on the couch. Kazutora plops next to you with a drink in hand along with one of the strippers in the other, her bare breasts out as she holds onto him.

“You don’t look so happy, Y/n. Should we have taken you to a male strip club?” He taunts, finding amusement in her pouty face.

“I’m glad you find humor in my suffering. I just want to go to bed.” You respond.

A dip on your other side causes you to turn your head to meet Sanzu who has a speck of white dust under his nose. He wipes using his sleeve before handing you a cup of alcohol.

“Live a little, yeah?” You raise a brow as you push the drink away. You had to admit how interesting it was to see the different contrasts between the infamous mad dog. One minute he’s all serious for ‘his king’ and the next he’s sniffing angel’s dust off of a stripper's ass. Interesting indeed.

“I don’t know what you put in that.” You state before turning away from him.

“Then take this. It’s just champagne.” Rin smirks as he hands you another glass from a separate chair, man spreading as he smokes a blunt.

“And I should trust you, why?” You roll your eyes before standing up.

“Where are you off to?” Ran asks as his hand grips the butt cheek of the stripper sucking his neck.

“Bathroom.” You state before walking out. You eye the guards before heading to the restroom.

You walk to the sink and lean over, staring at yourself in the mirror as you think your life over and what brought you to this point. You swiftly turn your head when someone walks into the bathroom. You notice the woman is wearing a poorly done wig with a coat on. You contemplate whether or not you should knock her out and disguise yourself so you can make a run for it.

My morals have always been skewed anyway. I’m sorry lady.

Before she could walk into the stall, you grab her and press her pressure point, catching her before she falls. You undo her coat and set the purse on the ground, lying her head on it gently before pulling her wig off. Setting the wig on as well as the coat, you walk out of the bathroom.

You walk at a steady pace to look anything but suspicious while keeping your head down. When you successfully pass the guards you make a run for it, rushing out of the club and finding a taxi to pick you up, throwing your phone out of the window for safety from a tracking device.

Your adrenaline pumps as the hairs on your body stand. You breathe heavily as you give the taxi man the direction to your old company’s headquarters. When you got there, you ran into the building in search of your boss. When you find his office, you push the doors open and run towards the man who looks at you with shock.

A year passes and he helps you back on your feet. Staying as an assassin would have been dangerous considering the first place Bonten searched for you was the headquarters. Fortunately, he has a family who owns different businesses so you currently work at a bakery on the farthest side of a city hours away from where you used to reside.

One night, you were cleaning up the floors, closing the store. You had already locked the door so you were confused when you heard someone entering the building. Looking up, you dropped the broom when you recognized Mikey standing in front of the door with a gun pointed at you. Before you could move, a hand wrapped around your mouth as someone grabbed your arms, pulling you against a chest. You struggle in their hold.

Your eyes widen when you see your boss and his family consisting of his wife, two of their adult children, and one child being dragged in wrapped in rope and bags over their heads. You scream against the hand.

“Relax and everything will go smoother.” The voice she recognized as Kazutora states behind her.

Once the other men force everyone on their knees in front of her, they pull the bags off their heads.

She screams once more when she makes eye contact with all of them, tears running down her face for the first time at the face of death.

No they can’t do this! This can’t be happening!

Complying to Mikey’s order, Kazutora removes his hand from her mouth as he locks arms with hers. She pulls against him as she tries to release herself, to no avail. The Haitani brothers watch in amusement as they stand behind the two adult kids. Sanzu stands behind the child as Mikey moves to stand behind the boss.

“This is your fault.” He says to you, glaring before he sets his gun to the man’s head. The child cries along with the mother and the children. The man’s eyes are wide as he looks to the side in the direction of his family. They were prevented from talking, mouths bound shut as they squeal and groan.

“Mikey! M-Mikey please don’t do this! I-I’ll stay this time I swear to god! Please… just kill me or something d-don’t take it out on them!” You cry out, devastated by the display as the guilt takes over.

“Sanzu.” He states. Everyone watches as he sets the barrel of the gun on the child’s head, pulling the trigger before anyone could think. There was a pause as the shot rang out, the blood and brains splattering against his siblings, the wall, and the floor.

“STOP! NO MORE!” You let out a blood curdling scream. You pull and pull against Kazutora as he grips you tighter.

Your boss wails against his restraints angrily, falling over when he attempts to stand up, lying pitifully on his side as he kicks his feet and pulls against the rope. The wife and their children cry out, tears dropping fast as they squeeze their eyes shut.

“Haitanis.”

“NO! NO MIKE-!” The shots rang out, more blood and brains splattering as their limp bodies fall to the ground, one sibling with half of their head gone as well as the other along with an eyeball, their blood reaching their mother as she completely bends over and cries.

Mikey aims at the wife shooting her twice before her limp body falls, the husband still as he weeps for his deceased family. Kazutora allows you to drop to your knees. Hands placed on the ground as you become light headed. Finally, vomit shoots up your throat as you release the contents on the ground. Gagging and belching as your body shakes, wet with sweat.

This must be my karma for all of the wrong doings. This must be how people feel when they see their loved ones die.

“I-I’m so sorry, Akihiko. I’m so fucking sorry.” You whine out, tears and snot falling as you become a wreck. He looks at you with despair.

“Please, escape the-!” Before he could finish his sentence, Mikey had already blown his brains out.

You gaze at the messy floor with a blurry vision and wide eyes. Footsteps stop in front of you, missing the vomit. Mikey crouches down and pulls you by the chin to look up at him, gun still in the other hand.

“If you try to leave again, I’ll blow your legs off.”

228 notes · View notes

daisyvisions · 6 months

Text

✦ Day 19 - Face F*cking

‧⋆ ✧˚₊‧⋆. Pairing: academic rival!Changmin x afab!reader

‧⋆ ✧˚₊‧⋆. Word Count: 1.8K

‧⋆ ✧˚₊‧⋆. Warnings: Smut (18+, minors DNI), will consider this a dark fic, face fucking, blowjob, blackmail (sexual favor - don't read if triggering) , mean!changmin, slight fingering and mentions of it, slight handjob and ball massaging, dacryphilia?, some graphic descriptions, names used (sweetheart, whore, slut, good girl - wow that's the whole quad), a bunch of swearing, reader is basically being used here, let me know if I missed any more! Proofread once, will edit later if needed.

‧⋆ ✧˚₊‧⋆. A/N: Did not expect how this one turned out if I’m completely honest, but here you go! This was fun to write, different tone than what I usually do! Fun fact, story was based on this little Tumblr game I did long time ago.

‧⋆ ✧˚₊‧⋆. Network: @deoboyznet

✦ Kinktober Masterlist ✦

“Love me or hate me, both are in my favour.”

A picture quote you mindlessly scrolled pass as you were on your phone taking a break from a paper that was due at midnight. It’s not that you procrastinated this specific essay. In fact, you could even do it in your sleep. That’s just how fast your brilliant brain works.

Today just seemed like any other normal day. Wake up, go to school, come back home, the usual routine. Nothing out of the ordinary at all. But not even your brain could conjure up the events that were about to unfold in three… two… one…

Ding dong.

You looked up from your phone, eyebrows knitting together in confusion from the sound of your front door ringing. Who could it possibly be? You didn’t plan any hangouts with friends nor did you order any takeout for dinner. You think for a moment to check if you had any deliveries coming in-

Ding dong.

You got up from your chair and placed your phone down on the desk to answer the door. As soon as you swing it open your eyes slowly look up to meet another pair of eyes you were definitely not expecting to see at all.

His figure leaning against the doorframe like the men you read in your books. But only this time, you wanted to punch him.

“Hey sweetheart. Missed me?” He smirks down at you.

“Changmin? What the hell are you doing here?” You question.

“I could ask myself the same thing-” He suddenly walks into your hallway uninvited. You scoff at his rudeness (not that you were surprised, he’s always like this with you anyway.)

“Cozy-” His eyes survey the room. “-didn’t expect you to live in a place like this especially with that icy attitude of yours.” He turns his heel to face you, you roll your eyes as you close the door and walk towards him, meeting in the middle of your living room.

“Why the fuck are you here?”

“No need to get aggressive, just here to collect that favor you owe me.”

“Favor? I don't owe you any favors what the hell are you talking about?” Your patience wearing thin as his words dance around you instead of getting straight to the point.

“Oh… you don't remember?” His eyes gleam with a hint of mischief. “Let me refresh your memory then-” He turns his back to you as he walks towards the couch and plops himself down, instantly manspreading and getting comfy as if were his own home.

“If I can remember correctly, you owe me a favor from helping ward off that jackass during Younghoon’s party. Grabbing my arm and pretending I was your boyfriend so that he could fuck off. Ringing any bells?”

“Yeah, and I thanked you for it-”

“No no no. You didn’t thank me.” He interrupts you. “You said ‘Never doing this again but I owe you one.’”

“That counts as a thank you-”

“C’mon now sweetheart. You’re smarter than that.” His black orbs staring you down, slowly making you feel unsettled. He suddenly gets up from his seat and walks towards you like a predator, slowly walking you backwards until your back hits the wall.

“Enough stalling. I’m here to cash in my favor now.” His hand resting at the side of your head.

“W-what did you have in mind?” Your voice slightly shaking. His other hands lifts to hold your chin before the corner of his lips slowly curl upward.

“On your knees…”

“I’m sorry?” Your eyes widen. Did he just-

“Are we speaking two languages? On your knees. Or else…”

“Or else what?” You try to play it cool and hide the fear coursing through your veins.

Suddenly, Changmin pulls out his phone, plays the video in his gallery, and shows it to you. You were like a deer caught in the headlights as soon as you saw the figure moving through the tiny screen. Said figure was moaning and playing with themselves like some kind of homemade porn.

It was you. It was a video of you touching yourself.

“Give that to me!” You try to reach for his phone, but Changmin already anticipated your moves by holding the phone high up beyond your reach.

“Nuh-uh. I didn't say you could touch my phone now did I?”

“Where the fuck did you get that?” Panic and anger radiating from your body.

“I have my ways.” He smiled at you as if he surprised a friend at their birthday. But this was not a gift at all.

“That was for my ex’s eyes only. How. Did. You. Get. It?” You attempt to reach for phone once again.

“Well, he's not the smartest of the bunch. Seriously you dated that idiot? Expected more from you.” He says with a disappointed tone.

“Changmin this isn’t funny. Delete that NOW!” You demand him.

“No can do sweetheart. Grant me my favor and I’ll consider. If you don’t, this hot as fuck video will be played in the auditorium for everyone to see. How will the whole school think of their precious little valedictorian now?”

As you look into his eyes, you could already tell he’s not playing around. You would know this, you see that look every time he would try to win against you. And you can’t put your whole reputation down the line. Not like this.

You gulp down the saliva in your throat and let out probably the biggest sigh of defeat you’ve ever uttered your life. You pulled the hair tie out that was on your wrist and hastily tied your hair as you sink down to your knees, looking up at him with the face of disgust.

“Such a good girl. Was that so hard?” He coos at you. “Now, get to it before I change my mind.”

You hesitate for a moment before you reach out your hand to touch his bulge. Your eyes widen in surprise and confusion as soon as you touch his already hard member.

“But you’re alrea-”

“What? You think I didn’t already touch myself watching your video?” He says this like it’s common knowledge. “Needed something to work with. And trust me, it fucking worked.” He smirked down at you.

“You’re disgusting.” You grimace at him.

“And you’re taking way too slow.” Changmin unbuckles his pants and instantly pulls out his cock from his boxers.

If anyone told you your rival’s dick was rock hard right in front of your face, you would’ve vomited. But here you are, in this exact scenario. His cock flushed pink with a hot mushroom tip oozing out with what you probably thought was the most delicious pearls of precum you’ve ever seen.

“If you want this done quick, you better listen to what I say got it?” He raises his eyebrow. You nod your head in response.

“Good. Now kiss it.” You immediately hold his length in your hand and close your eyes before giving the tip a light peck, already tasting him on your lips. You give another peck to his tip before kissing the under side of his cock. Planting each kiss gently but firm at the same time.

“Fuck that’s it. Keep kissing my cock.” Changmin hisses at the feeling of your soft lips. His hand resting on the wall the balance himself. He groans suddenly when he feels your other hand massaging his balls as you continue to leave hot kisses on him.

“You’re such a little tease you know that? That’s what I’ve always liked about you. Getting me so riled up all the time just wanna fuck the brat out of you.” He mumbles as he watches you.

You’re not gonna lie, hearing him dirty talk like that sends your core throbbing like a bitch in heat. You keep kissing his cock until you’re suddenly licking it, practically making out with it at this point.

And somehow you don’t even realize that you’ve stopped massaging his balls just to snake your hand under your skirt to rub little circles on your sensitive clit, trying to relieve the ache down there.

This action doesn’t go unnoticed by Changmin however, making him smile from ear to ear at the sight beneath him.

“Touching yourself now are we? You were always a selfish one.” He tuts.

“But that’s alright. I’ll allow it. Just thank me. Say it-”

You pause kissing his member to look up at him with a raised eyebrow, replacing it with your hand jerking him off.

“What?” You slightly tilt your head to the side

“Go ahead sweetheart…Thank me.” He holds your face with his free hand and places the pad of his thumb on your bottom lip.

“Thank me. Like the dirty little whore you are.” You scoff. Of all things, he’s still looking for that? His eyes go wide at your response.

“No? Rather take my cock instead of saying two simple words?” He pulls your bottom lip with his fingers, making you whimper from the slight tug.

“If you aren’t gonna thank me, then might as well treat you like a fucking slut.” As soon as Changmin says this he swats your hand away from his cock and grabs it firmly and squeezes your cheeks to open your mouth with is other hand and shoves his whole length inside.

Before you even have the time to process what’s going on, both his hands are grabbing your face as he fucks himself in your mouth.

Gluck gluck gluck.

That’s all the sounds you can hear ringing in your ears as Changmin groans in pleasure. He fucks your mouth with raw aggression, you’re sure your throat’s gonna bruise after this from how his whole length goes in and out. He’s bigger than you anticipated, making you slightly gag as small tears from fall from your eyes.

“You’re so pretty when you cry, especially when you’re like this.” He continues to fuck himself into your mouth. The way he manhandles your face as he quickens his thrusts has you getting wetter by the second.

And without warning he instantly shoots his hot load down your throat as his hips stutter. Swallowing the warm salty liquid as it infiltrates your taste buds… and it’s intoxicating.

You cough out and try to catch your breath as he pulls his cock out of your mouth, tucking it back inside his pants before letting out a sigh of relief.

“Such a good girl.” He looks down at you with a post orgasm haze in his eyes before zipping his pants up and walking towards the front door. Your eyebrows knit in confusion.

“W-where are you going?” Your raspy voice calls out to him.

“You didn't think I was gonna stay did you?” He turns the knob and pulls the door open.

Before he sets a foot out of the door he looks back at you over his shoulder and smiles one last time,

“You really should've just said ‘thank you’ instead…”

#deoboyznet #ji changmin #changmin smut #tbz smut #tbz fics #tbz scenarios #tbz #tbz hard hours #the boyz drabbles #the boyz hard hours #the boyz scenarios #the boyz fic #the boyz smut #kpop smut #the boyz fanfic

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ghostfanwriter · 4 months

Text

🧰 💖 𝐃𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐲 𝐇𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟕 💖 🧰

🧰 Pairing: Joel Miller x Virgin!Fem!Reader

💖 Setting: Lincoln

🧰 Synopsys: Bill found out about you and Joel, and you try to adjust to life without him again.

💖 Warnings: A bunch of angst, sorry.

🧰 Word count: 6.5k

💖 Author's note: This was gonna be the final part, but needless to say I got carried away. Enjoy, I cried my eyeballs out writing this one 🩷 (I love this gif, it looks like he's looking between reader and Bill)

Your eyes are wide open as soon as you process what's happening. Joel underneath you, your head resting against his chest, Frank at the door and Bill standing near the bed, a shotgun in hand.

"Dad, please, put this gun down. Let's talk." You say nervously, supporting yourself on your elbows when you see Bill's shotgun aimed straight at Joel's face.

"Get off your bed." Bill tells you coldly and sternly, calling you by your name, and you obey, uncovering both of you, standing between him and Joel. "Now get out of my way." He says, his eyes fixated on Joel, waiting for him to make the wrong move.

"Daddy, please, I can explain." You try to ease him, your voice shaky and high, and he looks at you, his stare cold and distant.

"There ain't nothing to explain." He says, walking to his side, his aim back on Joel.

"Please." You insist, following him, his gun pointed directly to your chest.

"Joel's on your bed. What else do I need to know?" He asks, his voice low, coated with an angry and impatient tone, one he rarely uses towards you. "Maybe I need to know since when this has been happening? Or maybe how could Joel do this to me? To you?" He asks, his gaze lifting, and you sense Joel getting up behind you.

"Dad, this is not what you're thinking. Last night we were talking, and we fell asleep, and that's all that happened, I swear." You say, fighting the tears that are threatening to escape your eyes, trying to stay calm.

"You know what it seems like... baby?" Bill asks with a sinister calmness. "It seems like Joel is sleeping with my daughter!" He snaps, taking his finger to the trigger, and you press your chest against his gun, your whole body trembling, and Joel's eyes widen, a move his nostril mimick as he feels like he's going through hell again.

A gun pointed at him, and a girl he must protect shielding him.

He can't let this happen again, he can't let you put yourself in danger because of him. He touches your shoulders, trying to pull you away.

"Get your fucking hands off her!" Your dad yells, and you close your eyes, tears now flowing freely down your cheeks in fear of how this is gonna unfold. "Don't fucking touch her!" He yells again, and you press your chest further into his gun, Joel's hands leave your body, staying high to try and ease your dad.

"Bill you're pointing a gun to my daughter!" Frank says nervously, trying to not startle Bill and make him pull the trigger accidentally. "Put this fucking gun down!" He says firmly, his voice now louder, and Bill looks at you, his eyes softening when he realizes your chest is against the gun.

"Frank, you..." Bill starts, then turns his head to look at his husband, his tone again dangerously calm. "Did you know about this?" He asks, and Frank's eyes falter, the anger and nervousness in his face melting down.

"Bill... I... I didn't wanna tell you becaus—"

"You lied to me?" Your dad whispers, and for the first time you sense sadness in him. "You all fucking LIED TO ME!" There's anger again.

"Dad—" You nervously try to talk to him.

"YOU, baby! You lied to me! You... My babygirl... You lied to me. I'm you father, I... I've always kept you safe, healthy, comfortable, away from everything, I... I taught you how to handle yourself, and you... You do this to me? Behind my back?" He says, his crying consuming more of his expression and voice with every word.

And his words make you feel horrible. You're ashamed of yourself. You should've talked to your dad, you couldn't have lied to him. You should've been honest and let him know about your feelings for Joel since they started blooming. You shouldn't — you couldn't — have been so selfish.

"I'm sorry, daddy." You try to say between tears, your voice small and high.

"Bill, it's not her fault—" Joel starts, but your dad cuts him.

"Of course it's not her fault! She's a kid!" Bill snarls, shouting at Joel. "I gave you a house to stay, I gave you food, we made a deal! I trusted you inside this town... Inside my house! And this is what you do to me? To my daughter? Taking advantage of her like that?" He violently spits at Joel, who's staring at the floor, not holding Bill's eyes.

He isn't even defending himself.

It's like he's ashamed of himself, like he agrees with your father. Not for the reasons you do, but because he thinks he should never have touched you.

But you know your father is wrong. Joel wasn't taking advantage of you, you wanted him to do everything he did.

He likes you just as much as you like him, you two share something.

Right?

So why isn't he responding? Why isn't he telling your dad what he told you last night? That he is thinking about staying with you, that he wants to do things right?

"I'm sorry. You're right. I'm sorry." He finally says, his voice sounding small for the first time. "But nothing happened. We just slept, nothing else."

"I don't wanna know what you did or didn't do to her. I want you out of my house, out of my town, out of my fucking sight as quickly as possible or I'm not gonna think twice before blowing your fucking brains." Bill snarls, his voice again in a menacing low rumble.

You've never seen your dad like this. This angry and violent. Not when infected appear near the fences, not even when those raiders tried to invade the town.

And you've never seen Joel so small, so ashamed.

Is he ashamed of being with you?

"Daddy, please, don't do anything." You plead, taking a step towards him, and he takes a step back, not looking into your eyes.

"I want you out of here. Quick. Don't give me time to rethink this." He tells Joel coldly, leaving the room, passing by Frank without looking into his eyes neither.

"I fucking told you to be careful." Frank says after Bill goes downstairs, unable to hide his frustration as he stands in the door, looking at Joel and beckoning with his head for Joel to leave your bedroom. Joel goes without looking back, and you call him.

"Joel, no... I, please... My dad can't do this, he can't tell you to leave like this." You cry, and his gaze softens. This is what he never wanted, to watch you hurt like this. "You don't even have any food left, you have wet clothes on the clothesline... You can't go." You plead.

"Joel, go pack your things." Frank says, and Joel purses his lips before turning back around and leaving your bedroom, his eyes avoiding Frank's.

You sit on your bed, crying copiously. Because of everything. Because you lied to your dad, to an extent you lied to both of them — Frank had no idea you and Joel were this close —, because you saw Joel fall asleep and didn't wake him up.

You're crying because of how Joel reacted, because of how he agreed that he was wrong. You're crying because... Because you love him, and he's going away, and you're helplessly watching him go and never come back.

And you're watching as he shows no resistance whatsoever. He didn't try to explain, to defend himself, he didn't try to ask to stay.

He just agreed that he was wrong and that he had to leave.

Frank kneels on the floor in front of you, holding your forearms tight. "Love, look at me. Stop crying." He says gently yet firmly, but you can't stop the tears flowing down your cheeks.

"Dad, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." You hug him tight, your words muffled by his shoulder, and any leftover of anger in him melts away at your pain.

"Darling. I need you to stay calm, ok? I'll keep your dad in our bedroom and you're gonna help Joel get ready to leave."

"I can't... I can't help him leave me." You cry, and Frank dries your face with your own shirt, using the fabric that's covering your stomach.

"Here's what you're gonna do. You're gonna get up, you're gonna take his clothes that are on the clothesline, you're gonna pack him something to eat and you're gonna give it to him. Put the wet clothes in a plastic bag and make sure he has enough food to go back home, ok? It's a two day trip." He says. "Do that for him. He's gonna appreciate it, ok? You're not helping him leave, there's no choice there. You're just taking care of him one last time and making sure he's gonna be ok." He says, and you agree, nodding and trying to control your tears. "C'mon, let's go." He says softly, taking your hand in his and guiding you downstairs, soothing you when you look at Joel's bedroom, keeping you focused on doing what he asked.

You take Joel's clothes out of the clothesline and pack him a few roasted vegetables, some of your dad's cans of ravioli, orange juice and water.

You take it to his bedroom, stopping at his door. He has his back turned to the door while he packs his things.

"Joel." You cry out from his bedroom door, and he looks at you, his eyes red and regretful.

"I'm so sorry, baby." He says, his voice low and raspy, from sleep and from crying.

"It's not your fault." You say, placing the bags with his clothes and food on his bed. "I saw you fall asleep, I should've told you to go to your room." You confess.

"No, baby. I mean I'm sorry for everything. I'm sorry for ever touching you, for ever doing everything I did to you." He says, and the regret in his voice hurts you.

Every touch, every whisper, every look... It was all new and overwhelming for you... And regretful for him?

"You regret everything?" You ask, your voice small and hurt.

"No. No, baby, I regret nothing." He whispers, walking closer to you. "You made me feel in a way I thought I'd never feel again." He cups your cheeks, his thumbs caressing the skin under your eye. "But look at what it did to you." He says, wiping your neverending tears away with his thumbs, a few more escaping his own. "This is all I know how to do. Hurt everyone I love. You didn't deserve to feel any of this, my angel."

"You made me feel alive, Joel." You say, holding his wrists. "I'm only hurting so much because of how you make me feel. Because what I feel is new, is real, and because I don't want you to go." You say, hugging him tight, burying your face in his soft and good smelling shirt.

"My baby." He says, hugging you back, his hands on your back and the back of your head, your tears soaking the shoulder of his shirt as you hold him, trying to memorize what his embrace feels like. Not ever wanting to let him go.

"Where you really thinking about staying?" You ask softly, and you feel his chest rumble with his chuckle.

"I was." He squeezes you tighter. "But I don't want you to think about that right now." He says, pulling back to look at your face.

"Why not?" You ask softly, looking up at him.

"No need to hurt yourself even more with what could've been, baby."

"But I wanna know." You plead, and he sighs, smiling softly.

He walks you to his window, holding you close as he points to the house across the street from yours.

"I'd renovate that one. See how much grass it has behind it? I'd put fences there and make a small ranch. Raise some... Sheep, maybe. I'd look for the seeds you wanted. Maybe make a tiny greenhouse, grow some wheat so we could have bread. We'd have even more things to eat." He says, his eyes glistening and his lips in a smile that weakens when he looks down at you, your gaze focused on the house across the street.

It's never gonna happen.

"Would we live together?" You whisper, still focused on the house.

"If you wanted, yes. I'd love to." He smiles, fixing your hair, tenderly playing with it, trying to registrate it's softness and smell as he pulls you closer, his nose buried on your hair.

"Joel... My dad can't do this. You should stay. Stay for a few more days, I promise I'll talk to him and we'll fix this." You say, hugging him tighter, determined to not give up just yet. "He can't do this." You repeat, your eyes welling up again.

"He can. And he's right, it'll be best if I go." Joel says gently.

"Not best for me." You cry, your lips trembling under your emotions. "He can't do it." You say once again, like a mantra, your face darkening this time, as anger consumes you. "He can't keep me from making my own decisions." You say.

"Listen to me." Joel says sternly, calling you by your name, his hands holding your face so you have no choice but to look at him, his eyes as soft as ever. "Your father has his reasons. I need you to promise me you're not gonna hold this against him." He says, and you shake your head. "You won't get mad at him, you won't let this in any way get in the way of the two of you." He says sternly. "Can you promise me that?" He asks, softer this time, and you shake your head.

"I can't... He's making you go. Go back to the QZ, you said your life there is miserable." You say, crying.

"Promise me." He says, once again saying your name, using the same voice he used when his weight was on top of you, his hands all over you, his smell on your nose, his lips on yours, his hot breath on your neck.

The voice that makes it impossible for you to say no to him.

He gently taps your cheeks with his thumbs, raising his eyebrows, asking for a response.

"I promise." You say, and he hugs you tenderly, savoring your presence while he still can.

"That's my good girl." He whispers in your ear before kissing your cheek, and you cling tighter to him. To imagine never feeling his warmth again, his comforting embrace, his presence...

And he's gonna miss you just as much. Your pretty clothes, your bright smile, your citric scent, your cooking, your laughing, your voice, your curiosity and genuine interest and care for him.

You're still indulging in each other's presence when Frank shows up by the door, his already red eyes watering as he sees you two by the window. He clears his throat before speaking, and you two look at him, just turning your heads, not pulling one inch apart.

"Bill's in our bedroom. He agreed to not leave, to let you go." He says, and Joel nods.

"Alright, I'm ready to go." He says, trying to pull you away, but you hold onto him, desperate to not lose this.

"Darling, let him go." Frank says, his voice shaking.

"I can't." You cry, your body not ready to allow this. To allow him to go forever.

"Baby, look at me." Joel calls, lifting your chin, and you let him maneuver you. "Promise me you'll take care of yourself. You'll be careful when you go outside, you'll take care of your parents, you won't be upset with your father." He says.

"Joel..." You cry out quietly, and he gently shakes his head.

"Promise me you'll let me go. You won't hurt yourself with what could've happened. You'll try and forget about all this." He says, his own chest hurting.

"I can't forget you, Joel." You say.

"And I won't forget you, baby." His voice breaks. "I'll think about you everyday. Everytime I feel sad, I'll come back to us, I'll remember you when I need comfort." He promises, making your heart ache. "But I need you to be ok." He says. "Can you promise me you'll try?" He asks.

"Joel..." You cry, feeling powerless and desperate, your chest tight.

"Baby, I need to know you're gonna be alright. I can't have the pain of leaving you hurting like this." He says. "I can't know I let you down too." He cries in a whisper, his voice almost inaudible.

"I promise." You recompose yourself. "I promise I'll try. But I'll hope to see you every day Joel. Every day." You say. "I'll never run out of hope." You promise, tears cascading down your cheeks.

Joel smiles, his eyes scanning your face, his fingers tenderly pulling your hair behind your ear. "I'll always love you, baby. You're forever with me, I'm never gonna hurt alone again." He says, hugging you tight and kissing the top of your head before softening his arms around you.

You cry, releasing your grip around him and sitting on his bed, watching him put his backpack on. He grabs your chin, making you look up at him, his thumbs run over your cheeks, feeling your soft skin one last time, as if trying to memorize your face, and you run away to your bedroom. He looks at Frank, sighing sadly.

He can't believe he hurt you this much. He let this all happen.

"I'm sorry." He tells your dad.

"I'm sorry too." Frank responds.

He walks past your bedroom and you call him.

"Joel!" You say, your voice shaken by your crying. He looks at you, a hint of relief in his eyes; you didn't run from him.

"Yeah, baby?" He asks gently.

"Here. I took a photo of Sarah's photo. You talked about how it was fading, and I wanted to make sure it lasts for a little longer." You say, handing him her photo, his eyes flooding at his girl's smile.

"Thank you, baby. It means the world to me." He says, caressing her photo, feeling that there's another photo underneath hers. He pulls it and finds a picture of you, sitting under the sunlight, wearing a pretty dress and an even prettier smile.

"That one is so you don't forget about me. I sprayed some perfume in it." You smile weakly, and he chuckles, his eyes glistening as he smells the photo.

"I could never forget you, baby." He smiles, touching his forehead to yours and cupping your face the way he always does; your ear between his thumb and index finger while he caresses the skin under your eye. "Take good care of yourself. I'll always be thinking about you." He whispers, pulling back to kiss your forehead before looking at Frank. "Let's go." He says, looking into your eyes one last time before walking down the stairs.

And you watch him go. Trying to keep yourself together to not hurt him, but feeling like there are a million feelings stirring inside you, just waiting for him to disappear so they can erupt.

And as he walks past the gates, and then disappears in the horizon, that's exactly what happens. You collapse onto your bed as you cry. You cry like you've never cried before. You cry until your chest and your stomach hurt. They hurt and they burn in a way that feels like they're never gonna stop hurting again.

You cry until the pain eases. Until your head hurts more than your heart, then you stop crying, trying not to think about him. Trying to not think about what's gonna be of you now.

You have your parents until they die.

And then...?

Loneliness wraps you in a cold and dry embrace, and you fall asleep.

About an hour later Bill leaves his bedroom, finding Frank seated on the stairs. "Let me pass." He says, and Frank gets up.

"Bill... Please don't break our daughter's heart. Don't tell her Joel used or abused her, she really likes him, in ways you still don't know." He says. "And — sigh — I believe him when he said he likes her too.

"You believe he likes her, Frank? He was in our daughter's bed! He was in my babygirl's bed! God knows what he did to her!" Bill growls, keeping his voice low as tears threaten to fall again.

"Bill, I understand, but-"

"Don't defend him, Frank. I haven't forgotten you lied to me. You knew what he was doing and you didn't tell me anything." He says. "You asked me to let him go and I did. I did because I couldn't kill him and have her hate me the rest of her life. But you don't fucking ask me to try and understand him." He says, nudging Frank out of the way and going to your bedroom.

...

He unlocks your door — that you're locking again, now that Joel's gone — and walks in, watching you sleep.

He sits at the edge of your bed, right beside your lower back, and gently caresses your hair. You feel it and wake up, turning eagerly, hurting yourself with the hope that it'd be him.

"Hi, dad." You say, for the first time disappointed to see your father.

Bill looks at you. For the first time he doesn't know how to talk to you, what to say to you. He honestly doesn't even know why he came to your bedroom.

"... How are you feeling?" He asks a few seconds after parting his lips, not finding anything better to say.

You look at him, your eyes burning as they flood again, and you advert your gaze, not sustaining your dad's anymore.

He tries to soothe you, caressing your hair and softening his gaze, feeling bad because of how much Joel hurt you. Because of how selfish he was.

He thought of Joel as a good man. Even if older than you, he seemed to be a good man, a good man for you. He could provide for you, he could look after you. He could keep you happy and safe. Bill knows he made you happy. He saw it in your smile every time you were around him.

The problem is he decided to do that under his nose.

You can't help but cry again. Your dad's touch, that always soothed you when you needed, now stings the skin on its path, like if his own touch knows it took something away from you.

"He lied to me... And look what he did to you, I've never seen you cry like this." He says, genuine worry in his voice.

"I never cried like this because I've never had anything like this, dad. I never had anyone like him, I never felt like this... Loved like this." You manage to say, and Bill's eyes harden, his hand stopping its caress and pulling back.

"I don't know what kind of delusions he put in your mind, honey, but he doesn't love you more than your father and I do." He says sternly.

"I'm not saying that. He never said that." You defend yourself and him. "But for the first time I felt like a woman, not a child." You say, and his eyes narrow.

"Did he ever touch you?" He asks.

You hesitate before answering.

"He never did anything I didn't want him to."

He gets up, angry and exasperated. All under his fucking nose.

"I can't fucking believe this. How could I be so fucking.... Argh!" He screams, frustrated with himself.

How could he be so careless?

"He said you lied to him. Said you told him we've had other people around. When I told him we haven't, and I've never even kissed anyone before, he said he wouldn't do anything to me." You say, your voice starting to crack as you remember that first night... How he felt, how he held you, his strong arms maneuvering you so effortlessly, his beard scratching your skin, his big hands squeezing your body in such new and good ways, his smell, his warmth. How good it felt to finally be kissed.

Your eyes burn as you think about how you're never going to feel that again, how you'll never see him again.

"The worst part of all this is seeing you like this, my love." He says, sitting by your side again and caressing your hair. You need some comforting, so you curl into a ball, resting you head on his thigh and waiting for his hand to come to your hair.

Seeking comfort in the one that's causing you so much pain.

Your crying gets uglier, and your father soothes you.

"He ruined our family." He continues. "We were happy, we were in peace. He came and everything changed, he made you lie to me, do things behind my back. Made you point a gun to your own chest." His voice darkens. "I've only ever seen you so hurt when I got shot by those raiders." He says.

"The only two times in my life I knew I could lose someone." You cry.

You weren't living before Joel, life was comfortable and you were happy and safe, but there was not much more to it than cooking, cleaning and gardening. He gave a reason to want to dress up, to cook something good and different, to wanna play songs on the piano and to feel more hope in your future.

Because even in the comfort of Lincoln's fences, you knew your future held loneliness and solitude.

"And that someone did what he did knowing you could come out of it hurt like this." Bill says. "For that I don't think I'll ever forgive him." He says, holding you.

...

And Joel won't ever forgive himself either.

All he does whole going back to the QZ is think about you. How you're doing, how you're feeling.

He thinks about you all the time. In what you told him.

'I feel so much for you.' You said.

His chest hurts, and he can only think about how yours must hurt too. So he doesn't try to cut his painful thoughts.

Much like he did when Sarah died, he forces himself through self loathing.

Like penitence, like self-punishment for what he did. He knows you're suffering, and he knows there's nothing he can do about it. He knows it's his fault, and thinking about it, suffering about it is the only way he can make up for the pain he's caused.

By suffering along with you. By not sleeping enough, not eating enough, not working enough.

He doesn't deserve a happy and comfortable life.

Not when he failed someone he loves again. Not when he knows how bad you're feeling.

Time goes by, and the deal goes on.

They work together, but Joel can't come near the gates nor call or answer the radio. He stays in a safehouse near Lincoln and Tess comes to talk to your parents while you stay in your bedroom, hoping every single time you're gonna see him. Even if just a glimpse of him behind the gates.

But he's never there, and as weeks go by, you eventually lose your hope.

You're not half as bubbly as you were when Joel was around. Not near as sunny and happy as you used to be before him.

And Bill notices it. The way you don't always play the piano anymore, the way you don't always put perfume on. It's like part of you left with Joel. And Bill can't help but grow even angrier at him because of it.

...

One night after dinner, maybe about one month after he was gone, you're by your window, and Frank comes in your bedroom, leaning against the window, the side of his hips touching the side of yours as he smiles down at you.

"How are you feeling, my dove?" He asks, pulling your hair away from your face and caressing your cheeks, noticing how pale you are and how lifeless your hair seems.

"Better, I guess. There's no point in mourning if he's never coming back. And he asked me to try anyway, so I'm trying." You sigh, leaning onto your dad's shoulder.

"That's good. What's that on your hand?" He asks.

"His plan. I like thinking about it sometimes. Of what he'd have done." You say, showing him a polaroid of the view from your bedroom window, with focus on the house across the street, the one Joel said he'd renovate.

"He wanted to fence it to raise some animals?" Frank smiles, seeing the drawing you made over the photo, with the fences, the sheep, the greenhouse and a few crops.

"Yeah. He said a greenhouse would be good to have more variety. And I thought the sheep would keep him busy." You smile.

"He'd be a great addition to our town." Frank sighs, thinking of what could come of their combined skills and resilience. "He'd be a good addition to your life too." He whispers.

"He would." You smile, allowing yourself to daydream.

Waking up early with him by your side, going to your crops, taking care of your animals, having breakfast, going to your dads' house to talk to them. Go for a run with Frank, maybe convince Bill and Joel to join you. Learn more about the guitar and teach Joel how to play the piano, take care of your dads with him, go hunting, go to the lake, make a pool and let the rain fill it.

There ain't much to do in this life.

But you'd rather do little with him by your side.

Bill's in his bunker, cleaning his guns and organizing some things.

After all the time that has passed he came to terms with you. He understood your side when you showed him you understood his, but Joel's behavior was still not something he could accept.

"Frank?" Joel's voice comes out of the radio.

Bill frowns. He made it clear to Frank that he never again wanted Joel to have any communication with them. Any and every deal or supply related exchange should be made through Tess.

"What the fuck are you doing on the radio?" Bill asks, and Joel's heart loses its rhythm. "I said I never wanted to fucking hear from you again. So what? The fuck? Are you doing? On my fucking radio?" Your dad repeats, and Joel clears his throat before speaking.

"I'm sorry." He says.

Bill hears it, but he doesn't respond.

"Not just for being on the radio." He adds, and Bill looks at the device, as if trying to see Joel's face through it. "I know what you must've felt when you saw us but—" He keeps going, but Bill interrupts him.

"You have no fucking idea what I felt, Joel." He says, and Joel goes quiet. He owns Bill as many chances to vent as he needs. "You have no fucking idea what I felt when I saw my daughter... That I have since she was a baby... That turned diapers into my priority when I only wanted to find more ammo, that I always did everything I could to keep safe... You have no idea of what it felt like when I saw her laying on her bed with you." He says, anger and sadness coating every word he let out. "To find out she lied to me? Because of you? That I trusted you inside my fences, inside my house? That I fed you, that I made a deal with you... And you were touching my daughter behind my back?" He continues, Joel's eyes pouring tears as he puts on Bill's shoes, as he thinks of Sarah.

He knew when Bill pointed that gun at him that he wouldn't shoot. Deep down him and Bill are very similar men, — very similar fathers —and he knew that, if ever in his position, he'd put his daughter in the first place.

He always would.

So he wouldn't shoot the son a bitch that was doing God-knows-what with her behind his back. Not because he believed a man like that was worth of any of his respect or mercy.

But because he knew how that'd affect his child.

So he knew Bill wouldn't shoot him. He couldn't let you have the memory of his brain splattered all over your bedsheets. He knows exactly how Bill feels.

"I know how you feel—" He says, his voice choked by his eminent tears.

"Don't fucking say that!" Bill growls, his voice low and threatening. "Don't you ever fucking say that because you don't know! If you knew what it is like to be a father you wouldn't have done it!" He lets his voice raise a bit.

Thankfully you're far away from your house, sitting besides your crops, looking for anything that requires some extra attention. Away from this.

Bill's words cut right through Joel. "I know how it feels like, Bill. That's why I'm sorry. Because if I were you, I would just not have killed me because of Sarah. Because I know a father wouldn't do that to his daughter, to have her last memory of the man she says she loves to be his brains pooling in her pillow. I'm not thanking you for not killing me because I know you didn't put that gun down because of me."

"Sarah?" Bill asks quietly.

"I know how you feel, Bill. I know what it feels like to be afraid to lose your daughter—" Joel starts, his voice drown in his crying. "There's nothing I ever wanted more than to see my little girl safe and happy... And I'd give anything to have her here with me. But to imagine having her lie to me, having someone taking advantage of her makes my blood boil, makes my skin burn." He continues. Bill is looking around, processing what Joel's telling him. "So I am sorry for what I did. I'm sorry for making her lie to you. You have all the right to never want to hear from me again, and I won't stay on your way." He says.

Bill's eyes are burning, he's feeling his chest tighten as Joel speaks. There's too much honesty in his voice for him to be lying.

The girl in the painting he saw Frank working on... Could it be her?

"You—" he tries to speak, but his voice stays stuck on his throat.

"I'll never take you as wrong for hating me. No. But as hard as it may be for you to believe me, I need you to know I do care about her. I always did. I wasn't going to do anything to her until I talked to you and Frank. I wasn't planning on leaving, because I didn't want to hurt her. I never moved one finger she didn't want me to." He says. "Because I care about her... I want to know she's okay, she's happy, she's dressed in the clothes she likes." He chuckles, thinking about how happy your clothes make tou. "And she's safe. She's safe and she's happy. That's all I care about. And I haven't felt the way I felt with her in so long, but I'd give all that up, I'd keep living in my misery just so she didn't feel those feelings too." He sounds sincere, the pain he's been carrying ever since seeing your face, your despair, being poured on the radio. "Because now I'm even deeper in misery, because I know how she's feeling. And I know she's feeling that way because of me. So I'm sorry for what I did, but I know you can't ever forgive me for making her feel this way, because I won't ever forgive myself either." He says. "Please don't ever think twice before reaching out for anything she ever wants or needs. Anything at all. I'll always be here for anything she needs."

"How'd you lost her?" Bill asks, and Joel freezes. He didn't expect him to wanna keep talking. Or to ask about Sarah.

"Outbreak day." He starts, his eyes burning. "A guard pointed a gun at us and I... I just stood there. I just... Let him shoot us, shoot her." He says, sounding monotonic, almost apathetic as he's shut down any feelings he still had about that day. As he knows you're not there to soothe him and he can't let his feelings overwhelm him.

"How old was she?" Bill asks, his voice shaken by his emotion.

Joel takes a few seconds, when he speaks, his voice is barely understandable. "Fourteen."

"Oh my God—" Bill says, feeling a pang in his chest. "I'm sorry." He continues. "She's... I... Just to imagine losing her I... God." He can't express how painful the loss of a child must be.

The two of them go silent for a few seconds, each processing their own feelings and relentless thoughts.

"I called to say I've found the medicine Frank asked for. We need nothing, Tess and I will bring the medicine to you in a few days." Joel says, recomposing himself.

It takes Bill a second to respond.

"Alright. We'll give you something in return here." He says, and the radio goes silent.

Later that day, Bill and Frank lay on their bed, and Bill can't seem to fall asleep.

"Frank?" He calls his husband, who turns around to face him.

"Yeah, love?" He answers.

"Tell me everything you knew about them." He says, and Frank studies Bill's face before laying on his back, telling everything he saw and everything you've told him.

He tells Bill how happy and in love you were. What he heard from Joel's bedroom the day he left; how he made you promise you wouldn't hold any resentment towards your father.

He tells Bill about how he saw you two kiss before Joel left that one time and how you asked him to paint Sarah. How Joel had the plan to raise sheep and make a greenhouse to provide better food for you. How honest Joel's feelings seemed, and how sad he seemed to have to leave you.

"Bill... You know she's gonna stay alone one day." Frank says, his voice shaken by the tears that threaten to fall from his eyes, all caused by the inevitable. "Our girl doesn't deserve loneliness. She deserves love. Love like the one we have." He says, holding Bill's hand. "Aren't you happier now than you'd be without me and her?" He whispers, and Bill's eyes water, pools forming on their corners.

"You two are my everything." He cries. "I don't know what would've been of me without you."

"You'd still be alive, thriving even. Because you're you." Frank laughs gently. "But that's not everything, is it? It's not fair with her. To be forced into an inevitable solitude." He says. "I understand and respect your decision. We all do, even her, even though all the pain it caused her. But think about her." He says, gently kissing Bill's lips before snuggling close to him.

Bill's quick to return the closeness, wrapping his arms around Frank protectively.

And this intimate moment makes him think of you.

Alone in your bed, with no one to talk to before you fall asleep, no one to dream with, no one to share a life with after him and Frank are gone.

The next day he sits on his bunker, besides the radio, his forehead resting on his hands. His legs shake nervously as he waits for a voice to come up and answer his call.

"This is Tess. Is everything ok?" He hears, and his heart pounds inside his chest.

"Tess?" He tries to not let his voice come out too shaky. "This is Bill. Can you get Joel, please?" He says, doing perhaps the greatest act of love he's ever done.

Please, please tell me what you thought about it, i love reading your comments and reblogs in this series, it makes my day 🩷🫶🏻

The final part is already written, and I'm editing it right now, I hope you all come back to end this story with me, ily all so much 🩷

@cruelfvkingsummer Bill finally blew a fuse 🤧

Tagging people who showed love for this series throughout this whole time:

@yellowbubblewrap @therealmrszenin @luna50 @trishpish-blog1 @zelena89 @ayamenimthiriel @allmyn1ghts @xkyxkyxxlylcylulucuflfluclu @blooodmoonbarnes @thecaptainpandabear @samsamsantos @cleopatra99 @pedritoferg @trishpish-blog @mscolorhead @mrsjavierp

#joel miller x reader #joel miller #joel miller x female reader #dirty hands #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x you #joel miller x virgin reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x y/n #joel miller fan fiction #joel miller angst

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ladykailitha · 4 months

Text

New Year's Eve

Hi!! I hope you all had a great year this year and that the next one is even better.

This is a sequel to this so be sure to read that first.

It does get spicy and there is a trigger warning for homophobic language (Steve's mom is a bitch).

Summary: Eddie and Steve ring in the new year as lovers and inspire others to do the same. Steve's mom tries to make trouble, but trouble finds her instead. All and in all, it's been a good year.

***

“I can’t wear that!” Eddie protested. “I’m going to the Newfield! I’m pretty sure it’s black tie to even breathe in its direction!”

Chrissy raised her eyebrow. “Do you want to know what Steve told me when asked me to help find you something to wear?”

Eddie looked at the red silk button up, the tight leather pants, the chunky boots and grey vest and then back up at her.

He sighed heavily. “Something about being me?”

“Close,” she admitted. “He told me that he wanted to make sure you stood out as the artist. That you were on display as much as your artwork. That people would look at you and go ‘yes, that is the master’. His words, not mine. But you don’t have to wear this. We can find something else.”

Eddie reached out to rub the silk of the shirt between this finger and his thumb.

“I’ll try it on first.”

Chrissy nodded.

He got dressed slowly, taking the time to admire each piece that Chrissy had picked out for him. The pants first. He loved the way they hugged his body without being skin tight. He pulled on the boots, happily twisting in the mirror. They went easily over the pants and highlighted how long his legs were.

Next came the shirt. It was a lot looser than he expected, making it almost billowy in nature. The silk felt divine against his skin. Chrissy tucked it into his pants and rolled up the sleeves. It kinda bunched at the waist, but when he put on the vest, it covered that immediately.

The whole ensemble was set off with leather bangles and chain bracelets on his wrists, a few necklaces that would show off the skin of the first three buttons of the shirt undone.

No earrings, though.

“I wanted earrings and to put your hair up,” Chrissy lamented. “But Steve said he liked your hair down.”

Eddie blushed. He had told Steve that a lot people seemed to think that because he had it long, he had to pull it back. But unless he was painting, Eddie liked it loose.

The fact that Steve had argued on his behalf in favor of leaving it down sent butterflies dancing in his ribcage.

“I like it,” Eddie said, looking into Chrissy’s three way mirror. “It’s classy without taking away who I am.”

Chrissy nodded. “Then I did my job right. I can’t believe I get to be your plus one at this.”

“Steve wanted to be my plus one,” Eddie said. “But then he found out he got ten free tickets to this it made the point moot.”

“Which means all your friends and family get to come,” Chrissy said with a fond smile.

He laughed. “More like he gets to invite all the kids because I also got ten free tickets as the featured artist.”

Her eyes went wide. “Really? So this going to be a blast tonight, isn’t it?”

He turned around a couple more times in the mirror. “Oh hell yeah!”

She clapped excitedly.

“Now show me your dress, Cinderella!” he crowed pushing her in the direction of her closet.

Chrissy giggled and pulled out a garment bag. She unzipped it and pulled out a long silver sheath dress with long sleeves and plunging neckline.

“Try it on and give me a twirl, love!” Eddie cooed.

She got out the underwear she was going to wear with it and slipped behind the mirror. Once she was dressed she stepped out and slowly spun in a circle.

Eddie wolf whistled. “You are going to finally bag that lesbian you’ve had your eye on with the dress, girly. You look fantastic!”

She tugged at the sleeve a little. “You don’t think it’s too much?”

Eddie picked her up and spun her around. “I think it’s perfect for an art exhibition.”

She blushed. “Yeah, okay. Let’s finish getting ready. We have to be at the Newfield by three so you can get everything how you want it.”

Eddie didn’t have much more to do so he wandered the loft a bit. It was strange to see it so empty. But all his artwork was either hung up or displayed to be auctioned off.

When Chrissy joined him, she had another garment bag and black silk shirt and deep blue vest.

“What’s this for?” he asked as he took the hanger from her.

“The exhibition tonight,” she said. “You can’t wear the same thing you wore to the auction, babe.”

He blinked at her in confusion. “Why not?”

“People are snobs,” was her curt response.

Eddie frowned but a slow smile spread over his face. “Does that mean that Steve has change too?”

Chrissy smacked his arm. “No sex in the Newfield, you heathen!”

“Well, someone has to pin the art to the walls,” he replied with a smirk.

She stared at him wide-eyed. “Did you just call Steve a work of art?”

“Yup!”

“Oh god,” she sighed. “This is going to be a long night.”

Eddie kissed her cheek. “You love me though.”

Chrissy batted him away. “Yeah, yeah, yeah.”

The auction was huge success and they ended up raising more than three million dollars for “Roll Initiative”.

And according to Steve there would probably be checks waiting for them at the end of the night, too.

Eddie was sad to see the blue jewel toned tux Steve had been in for the auction go, but the outfit he arrived in for the exhibition more than made up for it.

He was all in black with matching long tie and pocket square. From a distance you almost couldn’t see the tie at all. It made Eddie feel things. Uncomfortable things considering how tight these leather pants were.

Eddie was coming back with two glasses of champagne for him and Steve when he saw the most elegant woman he had ever laid eyes on in his life chatting with him.

He got a little closer and realized they weren’t chatting, it was far too heated for a chat.

“I don’t even know why you’re here, Mom,” Steve was saying.

Mrs. Harrington waved him off. “All board members get tickets to these sort of events and when I heard you had booked the night, I just had to see who my son would pick for his little pet artist.” She wrinkled her nose. “But I wasn’t expecting this.” She waved her hand at the artwork on the wall.

“And what’s wrong with it?” he asked, furrowing his brow.

She flicked his forehead. “Don’t scowl, Steven. You don’t have much good looks to ruin, but don’t ruin what you have.”

Eddie had bite the inside of his cheek to avoid throwing hands with this woman.

Steve leveled her with a glare. “You could have looked up who he was, Mom. You didn’t have to come.”

Mrs. Harrington sneered. “What if I wanted to see my son? To see what he had done with all the money his father had left him?

Steve straightened up. “Don’t act like you didn’t get the lion’s share of Dad’s money when he died.”

“It was the least he could do considering he died of a heartache in that woman’s bed!” she hissed.

Steve barely suppressed a giggle, Eddie did not. She turned to him and critically eyed his clothes, his hair, his tattoos.

“And who are you supposed to be?” Mrs. Harrington snarled.

Eddie walked up to Steve and handed him a glass. Then with his free hand, slid it around Steve’s waist.

Steve leaned into Eddie’s side, soaking up the warmth and support. “This is Eddie Munson, Mom. The artist being shown tonight and my boyfriend.”

Contempt darkened her face as she looked him over again. “Just like your father, throwing events for the whores that grace his bed as favors. I thought you better than this, Steven.”

Eddie bristled but Steve laughed outright. “Oh, Mom. You know nothing about me if you think that. When was this event put on the schedule?”

Mrs. Harrington wiggled her shoulders. “I wouldn’t know, dear.”

“Bullshit,” Steve snapped. “You know very well when it was.”

She glared at him. “Fine, back in August. I don’t know the exact date.”

“The seventeenth. For the silent auction,” Steve acknowledged. “When was it turned into the double event.”

She squirmed under his gaze until she folded. “After Thanksgiving.”

Eddie turned to Steve in shock. “What?”

“That was when I decided it would be my Christmas gift to you,” Steve murmured, nuzzling Eddie neck.

“But we didn’t get together until Christmas!” Eddie said.

Mrs. Harrington looked away.

Steve scoffed. “Which you probably also knew, considering how close you are to Dr. Martin Brenner, the head of the board. Because I called him on Boxing Day to let him know the change in plans regarding the speeches tonight.”

She turned to scowl at him.

“And I’m betting that’s when you decided you wanted to crash the party,” Steve continued. “You couldn’t let me enjoy tonight with all my low brow friends and my boyfriend.”

“It’s demeaning!” she hissed. “Your father would be very displeased if you saw you now.”

Steve laughed again. “That’s what you said when I bought out the stockholders. And again when I changed the way the company did business. And again when I hired Robin. And again when I had the Hendersons move in with me when they lost their house to a fire. And again when when I came out as bisexual last year. I’m glad he would be displeased with me, because that means I’m doing something right.”

Mrs. Harrington gasped, bringing her hand to her chest. “We didn’t raise you this way! To wallow in the depths of sin!”

“No, you didn’t and thank God that Steve didn’t listen to a god damn thing,” Eddie said, tightening his grip on Steve’s waist. “Because this is the best, most beautiful, bright, wonderful human being I’ve ever met and I’m happy I get to call him mine.”

“He’ll tire of you, you know,” she smirked. “Just like his father. Always hopping from one bed to the next. He was always like that. Even as a child, never being able to focus on one thing for long. The way he would just prattle on.”

Eddie could feel the blood boil up under his skin. He was sure that it was just his parents that made Steve feel like he was too much, but home should be safe.

“Sounds more to me like bad parenting,” he said nonchalant, “then it being a problem with Steve.” He kissed Steve’s cheek. “Come on, babe. Jeff and the boys wanted to meet you.”

And then they left her standing there sputtering and stomping her foot.

They went in search of Eddie’s friends, who were thankfully all grouped together.

“Finally we get meet the man, the legend,” the short, fluffy haired one that reminded Steve of Dustin.

“Steve, these the remaining members of the Hellfire Club,” Eddie said, steadfastly ignoring the comment. “Jeff Lawrence, his girlfriend, Miranda Steiner, Gareth Hughes and his twin Gethin, and Brian Martin. Gethin and Miranda aren’t participating members, but are important nonetheless.”

Steve waved. “Nice to meet you all.”

Miranda looked around. “When Eddie told us that you had organized all this for him, I didn’t believe it. But it’s so amazing for people to come see this, see his work.”

Eddie’s phone went off. Then again. And again. He pulled it out to look at it.

“Holy shit!” he cried.

“What’s up, Ed?” Gareth asked, cocking his head to the side.

“I’m getting notifications from my website of people buying prints and posters and mugs...” he whispered.

“Looks like you’re going to have to expand your marketplace, Eds,” Steve murmured before kissing his cheek.

“T-shirts,” Jeff suggested. “I always wanted one of the half-elf fighter.”

“Tumblers!” Gareth said excitedly. “Or those insulated coffee mugs.”

“Dice boxes!” was Miranda’s contribution. “You could even start getting dice made based on your work. Like a purple and green swirling one for the half-orc bard.”

Eddie’s eyes glittered. “And selling that stuff would give me time to work on my own passion projects plus being able to focus on the charity...” He turned to Steve. “And it’s all because of you, Stevie. I can’t thank you enough.”

He pulled Steve closed and kissed fiercely on the lips.

Steve was bright red when they finally pulled apart. “You did all the work, babe, I just forced people to look.”

Eddie kissed him again. “I don’t know how to thank you.”

“I might have a couple of ideas,” Steve growled low and seductive.

Eddie gulped and then turned to his friends. “Yup, bye. It’s nice to seeing you all, but I’ve really got to dash!”

He grabbed Steve’s hand and pulled him toward the bathroom. He hit all the stall doors to make sure they were empty and locked the door behind them.

“I almost creamed my pants at your little suggestion,” his voice came out as a low rumble, deep and dark from his chest.

Steve’s eyelids drooped and he looked up at Eddie through his eyelashes. “Did you now? It must have been so painful in those pants, darling. Should I help you out?”

Eddie gulped. He had brought Steve in here for the express purpose of getting off with his boyfriend, but now faced with the actual prospect of seeing Steve on his knees had him shaking.

Steve ran his hands over Eddie’s torso as he slid to the floor. He looked at his watch and grinned. “We’ve got fifteen minutes before the countdown. Let’s see if I can get you off before then.”

Eddie staggered against the door for something to support him because he knew once Steve got his mouth on him, his knees were going to buckle.

Steve slowly unzipped Eddie’s pants and was pleased to see that no there was nothing between him and Eddie’s cock. He slid his hands up and down Eddie’s thighs as he took in the sight.

Eddie was about to tell him to hurry up when Steve licked a slow agonizing stripe up his length. His retort became a moan of pleasure.

“Fuck, Stevie,” he gasped. “You feel so good.”

And then Steve took him completely in his mouth and good wasn’t even close as a descriptor for how amazing it felt.

Steve was licking, sucking, and kissing in turns and all Eddie could do was grab the beautiful man before him and hold on for dear life.

It didn’t take long for Eddie to come down Steve’s throat with a breathy moan.

Steve tucked him away and then Eddie pulled him to his feet to kiss him deeply.

“Jesus fucking Christ, sweetheart,” he muttered against Steve’s lips. “That is the hardest I’ve ever come.”

Steve smirked. “That’s just the appetizer. The main course will be tonight after the exhibition. I just didn’t want you feeling uncomfortable all night because I gave you a raging hard on.”

Eddie chuckled. “My hero.”

Steve checked his watch and nodded. “We’ve got five minutes to wash up and get back out there before the ball drop.”

Eddie leaned his head against the door and let out a shuddering sigh. “I think mine already did.”

Steve laughed.

“Chrissy is going to kill me, by the way,” Eddie said once he had caught his breath enough to stand on his own.

“Oh?” he asked, looking up from where he was washing in hands in the basin.

“Yeah, she told me no sex in the Newfield,” he said, cocking his head to the side with an easy smile. “And that just happened.” He waved between them lazily indicating what they just got up to.

Steve laughed. “Oh boy, is she going to be in for a shock.”

Eddie walked over and wrapped his arms around Steve’s waist. “Yeah, how’s that, babe?”

“It’s a badly kept secret that the board brings their lovers in here all the time to fuck among the art.”

Eddie threw back his head and laughed. “Oh, god. I can’t wait to tell her.”

Steve grinned back at him and they got cleaned up and made it back out to the main area before the countdown.

Mrs. Harrington glared at them when they emerged hand in hand.

The countdown began.

“10.”

“9.”

“8.”

“Happy New Year’s Eds.”

“5.”

“Happy New Year’s, baby.”

“2.”

“1.”

They pressed their lips together as fireworks ignited outside, bursting over top of the Newfield to ring in the new year.

When they broke apart, they looked around for all their friends and family. Dustin and Suzie were making out under Eddie’s painting of the Entwives. Lucas and Max had their heads pressed together as they held hands. Wayne and Claudia were happily chatting away near a statue of some Greek hero. All of the Hellfire club had clustered together and were toasting the New Year. Even Robin and Chrissy had finally sealed the deal, judging from the way Chrissy was laughing into Robin’s neck.

But no, the surprise of the evening was the way El was smiling and hopping up and down joyfully at Will and Mike slow dancing to the music in their heads. Mike’s hand gently pressed against Will’s side while his other hand was clasped in Will’s. Will’s hand kept stroking Mike’s face like if he stopped, Mike would vanish into thin air.

Eddie licked his lips. “Well that’s new.”

Steve laughed. “It most certainly is. But it’s also a long time coming. I think they had to grow up first.”

“Do you–you don’t think they got together because of us, do you?” Eddie asked shyly.

Steve scratched his cheek thoughtfully.

“I mean it might have got their heads of their ass,” he said after a moment. “But that a thought for another time. I’m practically vibrating to get you out of those clothes.”

“You’ve got it, baby,” Eddie murmured, kissing the side of his mouth. “Let’s go say goodbye and then we’ll leave.”

They said their goodbyes and had reached the door when Steve felt someone pull on his arm.

“Just where do you think you’re going, Steven?” Mrs. Harrington hissed. “There is still an hour left and having both the host and artist leave before the end? Scandalous!”

Steve shrugged her off. “I’m an adult, Mom. I have been for nearly a decade. You don’t get to tell me what I can and can’t do.”

“Maureen!” someone called out.

All three of them turned to see a distinguished older gentleman with a neat beard and shining eyes.

“Oliver!” Mrs. Harrington greeted.

Oliver Jensen was one of the museums biggest donors and on the board with her.

Steve grabbed Eddie’s hand and held it tightly.

“Word tonight has reached me of your homophobic views,” Oliver said with a rich accent that practically oozed grace and dignity. “I was hoping you would refute the rumor.”

Eddie squeezed Steve’s hand. He didn’t know who this man was but he would be stupid not realize that he was on their side.

“It’s a perversion in the sight of God!” Mrs. Harrington hissed. “This man has corrupted my son.”

Oliver tilted his head in confusion. “He came out as bisexual three years ago and only recently met Mr. Munson, how could he have corrupted your son?”

“Have you seen the filth this man puts on his website?!” she snarled.

Oliver blinked at her. “Yes, of course. Talented young man. I’m quite fond of the Drow BDSM scene with the spider web behind them. I was hoping that the original would have been up for auction earlier and was sadly disappointed it wasn’t.”

“Text Stevie your address,” Eddie said. “I’ll have it mailed right over.”

Oliver lit up. “Oh would you? It’s my husband’s favorite piece!”

Mrs. Harrington blanched. But then she turned red. “You Satan’s spawn! You’ll go to hell too!”

Oliver snapped his fingers and Mrs. Harrington was being pulled away, kicking and screaming.

He pulled out his checkbook. “Who do I make this out to?” he asked Eddie. “You or the charity?”

Eddie blinked. “You don’t have to! Think of it as a gift for throwing the old hag out.”

Oliver laughed. “So the charity then.” He wrote out the check and handed it over to Steve because Eddie was too stunned to take it.

“Sir,” Steve said. “This is too much.”

Oliver waved him off. “Nonsense. It’s great to see children being encouraged to participate in things outside the norm.” He patted them both on the cheek and walked away.

Eddie finally startled out of his daze to look over Steve’s shoulder. There in big, bold, black ink was a check made out to Roll for Initiative to the tune of one million dollars.

“Oh shit.”

Steve could only agree. He carefully put it in his wallet so he wouldn’t lose it and then took Eddie’s hand again.

“Here’s to the best year I’ve ever had,” Steve murmured.

“And here’s to the next one that will be even better!” Eddie agreed.

They kissed as the fireworks continued to burst in the night sky behind them.

Later they would go Eddie’s loft and strip each other bare. Then they would make love several times before falling asleep in each other’s arms.

And when Steve woke up the next morning he found Eddie in front of an easel.

He wrapped his arms around his boyfriend’s waist. “What’s got you working at seven am on New Year’s day?”

Eddie relaxed against Steve’s broad chest. “A companion piece to your Christmas present.”

Steve nuzzled him right below his ear. “Oh?”

“Nothing about your painting said that it was a D&D yellow dragon,” Eddie murmured. “So after tea, the yellow dragon transforms and...” He shoved hair in front of his face, even though he knew Steve couldn’t see it at that angle.

Steve hummed thoughtfully. “Perhaps you show me what the dragon does to ravish his knight.”

“It’s a long way off from being finished.”

Steve took Eddie’s earlobe between his teeth. “I meant in the bedroom, darling.”

Eddie got up so fast that the knocked over the stool in his haste to get them back to the bedroom.

Steve laughed as he followed behind. He thought back to that day when he called and spoke Chrissy on a whim.

He had been so sure she would tell him to get lost. Dismiss him as just another creepy fanboy just trying to get into Eddie’s pants. He left the business card in their mailbox and hoped.

He got way more than he bargained for. All he wanted when he set out on this quest was to get something for the Party that they would cherish forever. What he got was lifelong friends, an amazing boyfriend, and Robin a girlfriend.

Perhaps magic existed after all.

***

Tag List: @spectrum-spectre @estrellami-1 @zerokrox-blog @artiststarme @swimmingbirdrunningrock @gregre369 @pyrohonk @a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @chaoticlovingdreamer @maya-custodios-dionach @goodolefashionedloverboi @messrs-weasley @val-from-lawrence @i-must-potato @danili666 @carlyv @rozzieroos @wonderland-girl143-blog @justforthedead89 @emly03 @bookworm0690 @itsall-taken @vecnuthy @bookbinderbitch @redfreckledwolf @littlewildflowerkitten @yikes-a-bee @awkwardgravity1 @scheodingers-muppet @mira-jadeamethyst @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @genderless-spoon @anne-bennett-cosplayer @irregular-child @carlprocastinator1000 @mogami13 @samsoble

#my writing #stranger things #steddie #ladykailtiha writes #businessman steve #artist eddie #autistic steve harrington #new years eve

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xzaddyzanakinx · 1 month

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Okay so I have a request 😭 at some point could you PLEASSEEEE make a series where it’s Anakin x reader with bipolar? I’m pretty sure Anakin already suffers from borderline but I personally suffer from bipolar and 1. Could be such good angst , 2. Anakin could literally be insane and the reader would probably want to be around him bc bipolar sometimes craves danger, and 3. I feel like it would be really nice to see Anakin comfort a bipolar reader during a really bad episode where they’re like hysterical and then manic

(I’m so sorry this was so long)

Yes, Anakin has been diagnosed with BPD by many therapists!

That’s part of the reason I love him so much. I also have BPD and I really resonate with him. Because I get it you know? He’s obsessive, he will do ANYTHING for his Favorite Person.

He’d even spill blood.

The way it would pain him so deeply to see his FP in such anguish… he’ll punch a wall and cry about it later but right then he’ll be emotionless, he’d put on the best mask of comfort he could so he could soak up all your pain and take it away.

I got carried away. Oops. Warnings: inner monologue of: Self pity, gaslighting, verbal abuse, depression, self deprecation, co-dependency, death/suicide

He’d be so strong and solid for you because you need him, but internally he’d be shattered. What if he caused your episode? What if you leave him some day when you’re manic and feral for change no matter what the consequences are? What if you never loved him in the first place and he made it all up and somehow you’ve just went along with it this whole time? What if he doesn’t actually love you and he’s just been using you because you’re vulnerable and you make him feel needed and important?

Isn’t he just some attention hungry monster? He did this to you didn’t he? He triggered this episode for the simple fact that you would be in pain, you would be dependent, you would be reliant, you would see that there is no way you could leave him because he’s the only one who can handle you. You’ll see that won’t you?

God he’s just insane isn’t he? What a sick fuck. Treating you this way for personal gain. To hell with the fact that sometimes a Bipolar episode just sneaks up on you without a reason at all. Anakin knows he did this to you. Even if he didn’t… he’s still a horrible piece of shit because he can’t fix it for you.

Or even worse: what if he’s being used? What if you are playing him and he’s been too blind with infatuation to see it? That’s what’s happening isn’t it? You’ve fucking taken advantage of his kindness, his selflessness, his undying and unconventional love for you. You’re faking it.

When you snap out of this ‘episode’ he’ll lay into you about your true intentions with him. He’d call you out on your selfishness.

He’s better than this. He deserves more than this, can’t you get that through your thick fucking skull? How could you be so stupid? How could you be so dense? Did you truly believe he actually cared about you? No, he just felt sorry for you.

He felt so fucking sorry for you. Pathetic little clingy thing. He’s given and given and given to you and you’ve been nothing but ungrateful. You didn’t even try to get better for him. You rejected his help and this is the last fucking straw. He’s given you every chance, he’s given you everything.

Oh god he’s given you his entire soul. He’s laid his entire being out onto a platter for you to pick apart and terrorize but you’ve done… the opposite. You’ve coddled him when he didn’t deserve it. You made him happy when the world around him was devoid of anything but insufferable, heavy, suffocating despair. You were the light at the end of the long, cold tunnel.

And he’d almost extinguished you.

You were the key to every emotion he couldn’t attain on his own. You kept his happiness, his love, his joy, his contentment, his comfort, his calm.

Without you he’d be nothing.

You should leave. You should run. You should leave.

You should change your name and flee the country because he would stop at nothing to prove himself to you again.

He needs you. You are the air he breathes and the blood in his veins. You are perfect, pure, angelic.

You are heaven on earth and he is a demon walking through the flesh world.

You deserved better. You needed better. You know you deserve better.

But you won’t leave him because you are too kind and loving, you are so sweet and caring. You won’t ever stop. You won’t let him hide. You won’t let him believe he is unloved. You won’t allow him to crawl into himself and go mute. You won’t allow him to let his mind go blank and his flesh move about on autopilot. You won’t allow him to convince himself that he is unworthy.

You won’t give up on him.

And that’s why he has to leave. Permanently. That’s the only way you’ll ever be truly happy and free. He won’t be there to feel the all consuming sorrow every fucking day. He won’t be there to make you watch him drown, suffer as he claws at the surface of the water. So fucking close to air and unable to reach it. So, when he gives up, he won’t drag you down and force you to wallow at the bottom of the lake of despair with him. He won’t suction the life out of you anymore.

He’s selfishly sponged up every drop of life you’ve given him and he knows you must be exhausted from the never ending battle of trying to make him feel human.

It’s better this way. Maybe you’ll meet in the next life and things will be different. Or maybe your soul will recognize his and urge you to escape as quickly as possible. Either way, in this life, Anakin is setting you free.

Because if you love something, you should let it go.

You should let him go.

Don’t cry for him when you find him, feel the sweet relief of all your pain having died with him.

After all, he did this for you.

#star wars anakin #anakin skywalker #anakin smut #anakin skywalker x reader #anakin x reader #star wars #anakin x you #sw anakin #darth vader #darth vader smut #anakin fanfiction #anakin skywalker x you #anakin skywalker x reader smut #anakin skywalker fanfiction #anakin

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loliwrites · 3 months

Text

August: Nice Girls Don't Stay For Breakfast

part one of fountain of sorrow

⇢ pairing: javier peña x f!reader ⇢ rating: explicit, 18+, minors dni ⇢ chapter warnings/tags: set between s2 & s3, early/mid ‘90s, single mother!reader [child won’t play a massive role], canon compliant gun violence [starts with a snippet from s1e7], mention of canon compliant violence against women [javi remembers helena], terrible exes, mention of past relationship abuse [nothing specific or graphic], creepy guys [not javi], sassy chucho, alcohol consumption, brief SMUT, car sex, unprotected p in v sex, post-sex photos, cigarettes [are bad for you], javi’s gonna make a good girl dad, female reader, no physical description other than a height difference, protective!javi, no use of y/n. ⇢ word count: 7.3k (woof, sorry. there was a lot of exposition to get out) ⇢ series masterlist ⇢ a/n: switching pov’s in this one. very excited to share this series with y’all & would love to know what you think about it! as always, i’ve done my best to tag the warnings, let me know if you think i’ve missed one.

Two shots. One right after the other. That’s all it took before he managed to get his first shot off. Well, that and the sound of lead whizzing by his head. Clear and present threats to his life trying to break skin and shatter bone. In another lifetime maybe he’d have been a little faster. A little quicker to the trigger. When out on raids like this, he wasn’t sure why his finger wasn’t perpetually in a half pulled position anyway. What use was it trying to take these guys alive? They shot first and asked questions second. Why didn’t he? If they had no qualms killing a DEA agent, why’d he take precautions to save that of a sicario?

These are fanciful thoughts. Ones you can only think about after the fact. Ones only after you’ve almost had your life ended, when your adrenaline has played its role – when you’re no longer running through the streets of Medellín, praying that when you round the corner, some guy with a .38 isn’t going to clock you in the head. Bullseye.

Those are thoughts that have to come later because running after a guy nicknamed ‘Sure Shot’ doesn’t instill one with a whole lot of confidence that he’s going to get out of this alive. Hell, maybe it’s lucky Poison fired the first two shots through the window. Maybe it was fate that he’d had those couple seconds to shoot back and make a run for it before Sure Shot lifted his handgun.

Not that anything that followed was lucky.

Murphy had gone after Poison. He’d run after Sure Shot, who, while on the run, seemed to disregard his nickname and the fact that he had a weapon in his hands. Before they’d separated too much, he could hear shots ringing off and knew Murphy wasn’t having the same experience with Poison. Rather unfortunately, the streets were crowded with people going about their daily lives, put right in the middle of the action through no fault of their own other than the misfortune of their geography. They were making it hard for him to keep pace. And should things go even more amiss, they would become collateral damage.

He rolled his ankle once while propelling himself over a wall. When he landed, he knew he fucked up. Not as spry and nimble as he used to be. And surely not as much as the man he was chasing. But they were leaving the crowds. Dodging the busy streets and trading them in for back alleys which left them virtually alone. That was when it really all went to hell. He’d gotten Sure Shot pinned in his crosshairs. One could call it a perfect sting operation as Sure Shot slid his gun over. But if there had been one thing Javier Peña had learned being in Colombia, it was that he should never count on being lucky, especially when it came to anything Pablo Escobar related. Because money spoke, but it spoke louder in the slums.

And the child that had arrived pointing a handgun at him, demanding Sure Shot be let go? Sometimes twenty dollars looked too damn good. And to a child who’d been exposed to cartel violence for the entirety of his life; being handed a gun with the money was like a dream come true. They weren’t playing cowboys and indians. They were playing policía y sicarios.

Up until that point, the worst thing he ever had to do was point his government issued sidearm at that child. He didn’t know it at the time, but that would eventually lose its place on his growing list of ‘worst things he’d done’. He couldn’t even blame the kid who was only acting in favor of a hero, so he added it to the list of reasons to hate Escobar.

Javi blinked. He was no longer in Bogotá or Medellín, but in Laredo, Texas. His hometown. Gone were the days of chasing someone down and being shot at, for now at least. Now his days consisted of helping his dad out on the ranch or DEA desk work. That was the one perk to Laredo. It sat right up against the US, Mexico border with an international airport a stone's throw away on the Mexico side, in Nuevo Laredo. It was just the right place for a DEA field office to set up and watch drugs try to enter the US. But it was also the place Javi had run from. The first chance he got, despite conversations with his father about how he could run but he might not like what he found. Truth was, he didn’t. The world outside Laredo was… pretty terrible. But he never regretted leaving. There had been some remorse there for what had happened with Lorraine, but never regret.

Javier closed his mouth and swallowed. It had run dry in his moment of blacking out. Honestly, he was shocked he hadn’t gotten into a car wreck. He rested his arm on the car door and drummed his fingers against the hot metal. It had spent the better half of the day baking in the sun while he sat at border watch. Now it’d bake a little longer while he helped fix a fence on his dad’s ranch.

He glanced out his window, squinting despite the sunglasses over his eyes and had to do a quick double take. You gotta be kidding me. Going along the sidewalk, arms swinging haphazardly, a little girl walked all by herself. She couldn’t have been more than six. Pigtails bounced with each step she took. Little Mary Jane shoes buckled over white socks, a navy blue and white checkered dress. She looked entirely out of place in the horribly country town. An innocent little creature in a world full of wolves. And as Javi continued to watch her, slowing down to accommodate for a red light but also to keep in line with her, he saw the wolves start to come out. The little girl remained oblivious to all of it, as a child who doesn’t know the world is full of evil would. A stark contrast to a lot of the children in Colombia.

Though she was able to continue on her way without notice of the world around her, Javi couldn’t. Not as she passed a group of boys on bikes – probably only a few years older than her – and how they tugged on her pigtails when she walked by. She waved her hands at them, brushing them out of her ringlets, the permanent smile not leaving her face for a second. The boys followed her for a few steps after she passed, probably thinking she’d pay them some attention if they teased her loud enough. But the moment they were behind her and no longer in her line of vision, it was like she had forgotten they’d ever been alive. Not once did she turn around to them, and finding this game now boring, the boys turned back and pedaled away. But those boys were the least of her worries. Sure, the boys were annoying but they proved to be no real threat. Kids didn’t carry guns here like they did in Medellín. At least, Javi didn’t think they did.

There was, however, a real threat. Or one Javi perceived to be a real threat. He doubted the little angel realized she was walking through a potential lion’s den. Now fully stopped at the red light, he kept his focus squarely on her. He didn’t want to think too hard about how useless he was while actually in his car, but regardless, he continued to watch. She skipped past a group of three men. Using the profiling skills the DEA had drilled into him, he figured these guys were around his age, though a little worse for wear. Each had a cigarette hanging from their lips and beer bellies hanging from beneath shirts. And every single one watched the little girl pass by. The conversation the men had been having stopped almost immediately, and gave way to what could best be described as ogling. Only once did one of the men manage to tear his eyes away to glance up and down the street. As if fully realizing this little angel was indeed alone they all started to chuckle.

The red light had thwarted the little girl’s advance. She reached up on tip toes and pressed her tiny fingers against the metal pedestrian button. Traffic in front of her and the group of men behind her, she was trapped in the middle. Javi almost thought he’d just continue on his way. That girl’s parents had made the decision to let their child walk alone. Prey to the world. And he had responsibilities to get through. His dad would tear him a new one if he was late. The fence had to be fixed by nightfall to keep coyotes from killing the chickens. He really thought he’d go on his way.

But they whistled at her.

And though not in the way Javi had been guilty of doing to a hooker or two, but in a way of trying to get her attention in lieu of candy. They whistled at her. And he prayed she’d continue to ignore the world around her. For just a second more.

“Fuck,” he muttered under his breath. Javi tore his eyes away from her long enough to look over his right shoulder, make sure he was in the clear, and then broke a few traffic laws to get to the curb. He threw his car in park, mumbled another profanity to himself, and got out of his car. Even breaking a few more laws to cross the street as the light turned green. But he had to get to her. Maybe to the public, he looked no better than the guys who had whistled at her. But he knew himself. He trusted himself a helluva lot more than he trusted those guys. So dodging traffic, he ran to her side of the street as the men advanced toward her. Despite the light now showing the little walking man, giving her the right of way, she didn’t move from the curb. Just stared at the street as Javi approached, “muñequita!”

The sound of his voice was enough to get the men to pivot on their heels and walk away from her. Javi was glad about that. He didn’t want to try to go up against three beer bellies. But the sound of his voice hadn’t been enough to get her attention. He tried again, now stepping up onto the curb beside her, “muñequita.”

Finally she looked at him. Hands clasped in front of her, head tilted back, and big, brown, soulful eyes looked up into his. The smile still on her face. Painfully unaware of the world around her. “Muñequita, where’re you going all by yourself?”

“Home,” she lifted one hand and pointed straight ahead.

Javi looked in the direction of her hand, finding that the light had already turned red again. He reached past her and hit the metal button again. “Where’s your mom?”

“She’s working!” the little voice chirped. High-pitched and very clear. Obviously, strange man, mommy is working.

“What about your dad? Where’s he?”

She shrugged, “I don’t know.”

Javi pursed his lips and nodded. He must’ve been out of the picture. Surely wasn’t the first deadbeat dad in the world. Javier crouched down, wincing, and rested his forearms on his knees, letting his hands dangle in front of him. “It’s not safe for you to be out here by yourself, muñequita. Can I drive you home?”

The little girl shook her head but the smile remained, “mommy said not to get in stranger’s cars.”

“That’s right. Your mommy’s very smart.” He looked back at the streetlight. It had turned green for them again. “Can I walk you home, then?”

She nodded enthusiastically, probably just happy to have a ‘friend’ along for the walk that she could muse too. So Javi stepped off the curb and started crossing the street. But when he looked down to ask her if she knew her address, he found that she wasn’t beside him. He glanced back over his shoulder and found her standing on the edge of the curb. Her arm outstretched. Her delicate little hand opening and closing in his direction. Help, help, help. He took a breath and lowered his head sheepishly, he should’ve known, and made the few steps back to her. With his hand held open, she slotted hers in it and jumped off the curb with flair, skipping along to keep up with him.

It melted his heart. This sweet, little creature. A Lamb of God. And though she wasn’t pointing a gun at his face, she reminded him a lot of that little Colombian boy in Medellín. That boy had been given a gun and left alone. Sent to do the work of a drug lord who was far too willing to sacrifice a child’s life as long as it wasn’t his own. And this one… what was to become of this angelita left alone? If the crimes he’d seen committed against children in Colombia hadn’t been bad enough, the crimes he witnessed against women had been. At that moment, looking down at the little girl, Javier only thought of Helena. He wondered where she was. Where she ended up. Had she gotten to America? Had it been kind to her?

❖ ❖ ❖ ❖ ❖ ❖

Javi knocked on the front door and took a step back. He glanced down at the little girl, her hand still firmly gripping his. She hadn’t let go of it since they crossed the street. It also wasn’t the only thing she didn’t stop doing on the rest of the walk. She hadn’t stopped talking. About the clouds, every dog they passed, her school friends and their first grade-sized drama. He’d learned she was five and a quarter and one of the youngest in her class. Her favorite color was purple. And she liked her scooter because she was afraid of her bike.

And above all, she did not seem concerned that there was no answer at her house. Javi knocked again, but the girl pulled her hand out of his and ran back down the porch step, down the small paved path, and cut across to the lawn. Javi immediately turned and went after her, taking a couple steps in her direction before he slowed down when he saw what she had set out to do. Crouched down, singing to herself, she plucked a flower from the grass and came skipping back to him.

“Look!” She thrust the tiny flower in his direction.

He glanced at it, shifting his focus between the little, yellow flower and her. “Wow,” he feigned excitement.

She tugged on his hand again, “‘s a buttercup! Sit, I want to see if you’re good!”

Javi took a deep breath and looked around the neighborhood, wondering if anyone had seen him arrive with her. If they were suspicious as to what some random man was doing with a little child that wasn’t his. But she tugged on his hand again so he sat on the step and she curled in closer to him, resting her free hand on his leg.

“See!” She held the flower beneath her chin, “‘f’it glows lellow, that means you’re good!” She grinned and got impossibly closer to him. “Is it lellow?”

He ducked his head and spotted a faint colorful glow on her chin. He didn’t have the heart to tell her that the sun was reflecting it. “Yeah, it’s yellow,”

“I’m good!” She shrieked and reached her hand towards Javi’s face, “lemme see if it’s lellow for you,”

Javier stretched his neck, raising his chin to give her access to the spot she needed for her experiment. There was a little pause, the petals brushing against the bottom of his chin as she inspected it. His eyes locked on her, watching.

“It is!”

She yanked her hand away and Javi lowered his chin, a new, wide grin spread across his face. “I’m good?” he asked, looping his arm around her back when she flung the flower away and scooted in closer to him.

The little girl nodded and opened her mouth to say something else but her attention was quickly diverted when a set of tires crackled along the gravel driveway. She hopped to her feet excitedly, but stayed planted beside Javier, her hand clutching his leg to steady herself.

❖ ❖ ❖ ❖ ❖ ❖

Panic set in at the sight of an unknown man sitting, waiting at your house. The panic turned heart-stopping when you saw that that unknown man had his arm wrapped around your young daughter. Worse, he seemed to be smiling… beaming… at her. As if he’d found the greatest of prizes. Though his smile did vanish upon the sound of your tires crunching along the gravel driveway.

And the way you exited your car? With speed you didn’t know was in you. The story you’d heard about a mama bear instinct kicking in, in times of crisis had never exposed itself as fiercely as it did in this moment. It had only come in shades of gray before. Now it was full on technicolor. You were seeing it in living color and it felt as though you’d been removed from your body, floating above it all, getting a bird’s eye view. The way this man stood clutching onto your daughter’s hand, and the way she hesitated to obey your command to get away from him in order to give him a hug around the leg. A bitterness rose in your throat and only slightly settled when she finally bounded toward you. Still from your bird’s eye view, it was as if you watched yourself inspect her for harm done but found none. And temporarily satisfied, you suggested she carry on to the backyard. A gated safe haven and more importantly, far, far away from the strange, mustached man, staring at you both.

She obliged, as she always did. She was an angel. And after your ex – her father – all but split at the pregnancy announcement, an angel was exactly what you needed. The expectation was never that you’d become a single parent, but you figured it was a better option than sticking around with that deadbeat. Which, as you approached the stranger on your porch, made you wonder… where was that deadbeat? It was his day to pick her up from school.

“Who the fuck do you think you are?” You spat, now in killing distance if you so pleased to do to this guy. “So help me, I will cut off your dick and balls, put it on a pike, and march it through town! She’s five for fuck’s sake!”

Javi to his credit, not particularly known for his abundant patience, didn’t yell back. Didn’t fly off the handle in a fit of anger. Didn’t even let his expression show the slightest hint of sorrow. In fact, he had a smile on his face. And if that didn’t piss you the hell off even more.

“Is this your thing? You follow a little girl home, scoop her up, and poof! She vanishes. You fuck right off.”

Smile still plastered on his face, clearly finding some form of enjoyment from this spectacle you were putting on. But when the rampage simmered down, awaiting an answer, he lifted his hand, palm turned upward in an invitation to embrace yours, and grinned a little wider, “Javier Peña, DEA.”

You scoffed, staring his hand down and crossing your arms over your chest, “you think it’s better that you’re a cop? One bad apple…”

He rested his hands on his hips, “technically a Fed. For drug enforcement. And as far as I know, she didn’t have any coke-laced lollipops on her.”

You opened your mouth for another smart response, anything to show that you had the upper hand here. Concerning your kin. On your property. But Javi took a step forward, effectively forcing you back off the singular porch step, and there he stood towering over you, on the high ground. Though he would’ve towered over you anyway, even had you been on equal footing.

“If I were a cop, I’d be lecturin’ you about how it’s irresponsible to let your child walk home alone. And worse that she’s only five, as you so generously pointed out. You don’t need to be worryin’ about me, you need to be worryin’ about the fuckin’ group of men whistling at her. Tryna get her attention.” He stepped off the porch, now on even ground with you, and just as suspected, he towered over you. Broad shoulders straining against a button-down cotton shirt, square jaw and strong nose to boot. “You don’t have to believe this, but I’m the best thing that could’ve walked into your daughter’s life today. ‘cause in my line of work, I have seen kids go poof. And for the little girls, they’re lucky if they go poof. It’s usually a helluva lot better than the alternative,”

Despite the height difference, you stepped closer, coming face to chest. Doing your best threatening glare. “If I see you around my daughter again, I will parade your severed penis around town like it’s a fourth of July float. Do not fucking try me, Javier Peña,”

It wasn’t until you let yourself inside the house and slammed the door behind you, that the smile returned to Javi’s face and he crossed through the front yard to get back to the sidewalk. While talk about one’s severed penis was rarely a reason to smile, it was one of the least violent things that he’d been threatened with and he figured that sort of punishment was far better than the kind that he’d watched Los Pepes commit in Colombia. And, yes, the cause had been just – in the effort to take down Pablo Escobar. But he knew the ease with which Los Pepes murdered sicarios in Medellín would one day be turned against him. They would have found a justification for his murder. And that, mixed with the fact that what he was doing was definitely illegal, was the reason he was back in Laredo. And the reason he’d been able to keep the muñequita safe today.

❖ ❖ ❖ ❖ ❖ ❖

He knew he wouldn’t make it to Chucho’s ranch before sundown. No chance. And his dad, also not particularly known for his patience (at least where it concerned his son), wasn’t bound to be too pleased about his son’s absence today. Hopefully he’d managed to fix the fence without him.

Javier’s suspicions proved to be correct when he pulled up his father’s long, dirt driveway and came upon the main house just as Chucho and his longtime ranch hand, Pancho, were stepping out the front door. For the second time that day, Javi found himself murmuring, “fuck,” beneath his breath.

Headlights illuminated the two older gentlemen, who still donned their boots, cowboy hats, and dusty jeans from their laborious day. Javi threw the car in park nearly before he hit the brakes, surely stripping the gears, and hopped out of the cab, ready to plead his case.

Chucho held up his hand. The wrinkles etched deep in his skin after decades of hard work in the sun. “No mames!” He shook his head and muttered to himself, “pinche naco. You owe Pancho a couple beers.” The elder Peña rounded to the driver side of his truck with Pancho letting himself into the passenger side. But before he fully entered the cab, Chucho looked back at Javi with a shout, “meet us at the Tack Room!”

The Tack Room. One of a handful of watering holes in town that boasted a kitschy barn theme. But it had the distinction of being the only one that was actually in an old barn. It had been transformed into the bar in Chucho’s young adulthood, and it had been his go-to place ever since Javier could remember. It was nothing fancy. Just a small town dive. Truly a place for locals though it wasn’t as if Laredo had much tourist appeal. Drinks were cheap. Domestic beers hovered around a buck. The food was greasy. Perfect for soaking up the alcohol already consumed and making patrons believe they could tolerate more. To Chucho it was home away from home, and to Javier, it was the place he’d gotten hooked on cigarettes. And places like it had been the reason he’d been so keen on leaving town as soon as he could. In a town as small as this, the local dives harbored three types of people:

The townsfolk who gossiped and got into everyone’s business.

The rancheros who never thought about leaving town.

And the deadbeats who never even tried.

And he’d gone to school with a lot of those in column number three. It was the bubble. People settled down here with jobs that barely paid the bills. They got married and started families. Those kids grew up, and never having the care, ambition, or opportunity to venture outside of southern Texas, stayed put. They fell in line with the work they’d watched their parents do and eventually started having babies of their own. And the cycle continued. All Javier knew was he had to get the hell out of there. So he did… despite the lump of guilt in his stomach about leaving his aging father behind. And when leaving brought him all the way to Colombia, Javi never thought he’d step foot in The Tack Room ever again.

It never failed to smell like sweat, burnt oil, and sawdust. A unique odor that all but singed his nose hairs and left him thinking his sense of smell would forever be compromised. The taste of Tecate didn’t even help. Not even the second one they were all on.

“Did you get the fence up, dad?” Javier asked, side-eyeing the girls at the next table over. If they weren’t old classmates or old girlfriends, he’d have a chance at warming up his bed tonight. They both looked like strangers to him. He could take his pick… or perhaps get both.

“No thanks to you, pendejo.”

“Alright, pop,” He took another sip from his pint glass. “I said I was sorry. I got held up, what do you want from me?”

Chucho lifted his cowboy hat off his head and smoothed out his hair before placing the hat back on. “Don’t think askin’ my son to stick to his word is too much. Instead Pancho has to help and his back’s–” Chucho interrupted himself. Then, looking past his son, and with a tone that dripped soft saccharine, “hola, chiquita!”

“Hola, Chucho!”

“Ven acá! Come meet my boy,”

❖ ❖ ❖ ❖ ❖ ❖

The day hadn’t been great to say the least. No day in Laredo was great but thanks to a deadbeat baby daddy and an even deader-beat judge, it was where you were holed up. Traded in San Antonio for it and cursed yourself everyday. As far as you could tell, there wasn’t any getting out of Laredo. Not for you. Not for any of the townies you’d come to recognize. Everyone just stayed put. The reason as to why hadn’t yet revealed itself. There wasn’t anything great in Laredo.

Well maybe that wasn’t entirely true.

A deadbeat baby daddy for an ex was the reason you were here but without him you wouldn’t have had actual sunshine for a daughter. How she ended up like that while being genetically half of him, you’d never know. But if having chosen a different guy meant you’d never had her, it’s a mistake you would’ve made over and over and over again. She was just about the greatest thing ever planted on God’s green earth.

And your job wasn’t so bad. Your first job, at least. There was some sort of cruel irony that job number one was as a clerk in the same courthouse where that deadbeat judge had told you it’d be “beneficial for the girl to grow up around her father”. He obviously didn’t know, or care to learn, just how terrible that guy was. Truthfully anyone – literally anyone – would be better off not being around him. But clerking was a job nonetheless. One with a steady schedule and pay. Easy to plan life around. Not like the second job.

Very few good arguments could be made for The Tack Room. And even less for being a bartender there. Originally you thought a small town bar only full of locals meant that everyone would treat you kindly. But you learned people were pretty much dicks anywhere you went in the world. See, a small town bar full of locals meant that the patrons started to get a little too comfortable. And since no respectable woman would be caught dead drinking at The Tack Room, it meant the place was full with large, aggressively masculine men, who’d spent the day working in the sun or bumming it on the couch while their woman brought everything to the table. And those large, aggressively masculine men, when given liquid courage, started to think they were God’s gift to humanity. Glorified machines to move their penises from one room to another. A normal shift meant being catcalled, grabbed, hugged, or pinched more times than you had fingers. The other girls blushed and cowered and took that behavior. They were raised here – worse, they’d known some of the older men who were now pinching their asses, as children.

Not you. You could thank your deadbeat ex for that. No man was ever going to lay a hand on you like that again.

“Hola chiquita!” The soundwaves drifted in your direction, wrapping the sing-song lilt around your atmosphere, and settling warm in your chest.

Actually, there was one good thing about The Tack Room. Chucho Peña. A quiet, aging gentleman from a bygone era; he was an unforeseen light. He’d liked you since the day he met you a year or so back, here at the bar. First shift, carrying a tray of empty beer bottles, Pepe Hernandez (that asshole) grabbed you by the back pocket of your jeans, pulled you back into him until you were seated in his lap and while he thought he was hung like a horse, you realized he was working with a chode. You told him as such – something mean and cutting since he’d already been rude with you – and instead of quietly nursing his bruised ego, he cocked a fist back and tried to take a swing.

Another thing to thank your deadbeat ex for. He taught you that fists were fast but your reflexes could be faster. You dropped the tray, beer bottles crashing to the sawdust floor, and dodged his hand. He may’ve missed but you never did. Landed one punch straight to his nose. With the commotion, you could hear your boss rumbling, coming out from the kitchen to see what the matter was. And before you knew it your little unforeseen light, Chucho Peña, was beside you. He nudged you out of the way and stood over Pepe.

Your eyes widened at Chucho, but your boss arrived at the scene you’d created but Chucho was taking credit for. He wanted to holler and cuss someone out. Crack some skulls for causing a ruckus. But finding Chucho (who, you’d later found out, had given your now boss his first ranching job as a teenager), your boss backed down and kicked Pepe out.

That first night, Chucho had given you his classic Peña wink and introduced himself. He didn’t like men around acting like fools and making his beer taste bad. But he liked you. Liked your grit. Your guts. And maybe because he knew you could rip him apart, he always treated you extra nice. To make up for the fact that no one else did.

“Hola, Chucho!” You yelled back over the noise of the bar.

“Ven acá! Come meet my boy,”

You handed your purse to the bartendress behind the already crowded bar and got an apron from her in return. Wrapped it around your waist and tied it tightly around your waist on your way over to the table Chucho and Pancho were sitting at. Chucho had mentioned his son only a couple times in passing. You got the sense it was a sensitive subject and never cared to pry too much.

But this son… your blood ran cold at the sight of him. Dark brown hair, dark brown eyes, clean shaven save for the mustache…

❖ ❖ ❖ ❖ ❖ ❖

Out of all the faces he imagined coming up to the table per his father’s offering, he never guessed it’d be you. And that fact made a little chuckle erupt from his throat when he held out his hand for an introduction you didn’t need.

“Hey, chiquita,” he smirked, all charm and nerve. Even more pleased with himself when you shoved your hand into his and told him your actual name.

But less pleased after you practically ignored him after that. Only spent a couple minutes making small talk with Chucho, trying to remain polite despite wanting to get the fuck away from his son. Maybe one day you’d fill the elder Peña in on how his son was caught with a five year old.

After you politely excused yourself from the table so you could get to work, and Javier realized he’d been practically silent the entire time, he glanced at his dad and found him gearing up for a ribbing.

“Didn’t you used to have game with the ladies?” Chucho grinned and took a sip of his beer.

“She’s not my type,” Javi grumbled.

“Ah ha. You mean she’d take a bit of work,” Chucho nodded, easing his cowboy hat back out of his eyes. “Son, it’s the women like that, that you gotta hold on to,”

Javi shook his head absently, trying to write off his dad’s comments. But he still spent the rest of the night glancing back at the bar every now and again to get a glimpse of you. He wondered how much “work” it’d take him until you bent for him just like every other woman. To his dismay, you didn’t come back to the table the rest of the night. Instead, another waitress made the rounds and filled up the beers. She didn’t seem to have any problem with him. She’d be an easy one to get. But his dad’s words rang in his ears, and despite the waitress putting in a mighty effort to get his attention, he just kept looking back at you.

Until about midnight when he needed to close out. That waitress had stopped coming around when Chucho and Pancho left and she realized she wasn’t going to get any attention from him. He stood from the table and wandered over to the bar, pulling his leather billfold out of his wallet. Foot propped up on the kick step beneath the bar, and forearms on the wood bar top, he smiled when you made eye contact with him, practically forced to help him.

“Closing out?” you asked, noncommittally.

He nodded affirmatively, waiting until you were back in front of him with the printed tab before he asked, “who’s watchin’ your kid now?”

And you could deck him. Really could. Put some serious thought into it. But he seemed to catch on that his little joke wasn’t too funny.

“Sorry,” he bowed and slid his credit card over to you.

You ran his card, taking deep breaths so that when you turned around to face him, you wouldn’t be seeing complete red. It worked just a bit, and when you turned to hand the bill back to him, you only saw shades of dark pink. “Chucho never mentioned his son was DEA. Sounds like a lie,”

Javier smiled again. While he slid his credit card back into his wallet, he simultaneously slid out the badge that got him into the local office. Presenting it to you and adding the same blank expression on his face as his picture on the badge, he figured you believed him.

“She talked about you all day,” you shook your head and ran a towel over the bar to wipe away lingering condensation. It gave you something to do other than get lost in his eyes. “The buttercups told her you were good,”

“Not sure who taught her that, but buttercups aren’t very good judges of character,”

“I did,”

He pressed his lips together and leaned a little closer to the bar. “Well, they’re not. But they didn’t lie,”

You nodded, relenting. “Then I guess I should thank you. And apologize for that stuff about severing your penis and marching it through town,”

“Trust me, I’m sure you’re not the only woman in Laredo interested in separating me from my penis,”

“It does some damage, doesn’t it?”

A flush worked its way up to Javi’s cheeks and he laughed softly. He figured he’d let that one go without response. Your brain could imagine for itself what kind of damage he could do.

“I’m off in a half hour. If you stick around, I can show you how sorry I am,”

❖ ❖ ❖ ❖ ❖ ❖

Maybe this not so great day was turning around. That’s the only explanation you could think of as to why you were currently seated on Javi’s lap in the passenger seat of your car, knees planted on either side of his waist, pressing against the coarse seat fabric. Tight t-shirt pushed up as far as it would go with your arms still in the sleeves. High enough for your breasts to be exposed; lace bra hiding the last bit of skin you had to offer. His hands had a crushing hold on your hips, rocking your body along his length. He was perpetually bottomed out, the lack of space giving no chance for reprieve. You brought one hand to the back of his neck while the other flung up and pressed against the roof of the car, trying to keep yourself down despite your body involuntarily inching away from him. Not that the confines of the space, or his grip on you, would let you get too far.

“C’mon, give it to me,” he growled with a labored breath.

A moan ripped through your chest and throat. Thighs quivered around Javi’s hips, which he undoubtedly felt because a chuckle rumbled past his lips and into the space between you both. You lowered your head, looking down into his eyes which were already boring into your soul.

“Already?”

“Shut up, Peña,”

He snapped his hips upward, where the head of his cock pressed against your cervix, searching for entry into a depth your body couldn’t accommodate. But entry wasn’t the ultimate goal, it was just to prove to you that he could. So he wrapped one arm around you, keeping you pinned to him where every movement of your body on his created friction against your clit.

“Javi, querida. It’s Javi,”

Your head lolled forward and tucked into his neck. His scent overwhelmed your senses. Despite you being on top of him, he seemed to be everywhere. His body encompassed yours like a weighted blanket. Arms snaked around you to keep you close, as if you had any intention of furthering yourself from the pleasure he was giving you. “Javi,” his name lingered on your lips, singing two syllables that had never sounded so sweet. “I’m gonna come,” you gasped into his neck, closing your mouth and suckling gently on his skin.

He smiled and licked his lips, trying to focus on the feeling of your mouth on his neck. Anything to not give in to the feeling of your anatomy squeezing him within an inch of his life. He didn’t need you to tell him you were close; he could tell. “I feel it. Feel you pulling me deeper,” he lowered his head closer to your ear, his arm doing most of the work to keep your body in its steady rhythm, thrusting along him. “Go on, soak me. Give me your best,”

“Javi, Javi,” you panted. Then quickly, your head was pulled away from his neck. Both his hands cupped around your cheeks, forcing you to look down into his heads.

You tried to lose the eye contact by squeezing your eyes shut, but Javi shook you to attention. “Let me see those eyes when you come all over me,”

Eyes snapped open, pleading. Eyebrows furrowed and mouth slack. Javi lifted his hips to meet the shifting of your body and that’s when you went rigid. Hands curling into fists and shaking. Your body jerked on top of him, an otherworldly cry erupting through you. He held on tight, leaning over and biting into your shoulder as you continued to tremble through your high. The breath hitched in your throat and it took a few seconds before a new deep lungful air entered your body. By that point, Javier was flexing and shaking beneath you.

“Where–shit–”

He knew you heard him too late. No doubt the throbbing of the pulse in your ears had blocked off the rest of the world. Unable to hear anything over the sound of your own blood pumping through your veins and the shattered cry coming out of your throat. So that by the time you did hear his question, it was too late. And Javi, just as he wasn’t known for his patience, also wasn’t known for his restraint – and yet somehow had the presence of mind and the wherewithal to physically lift you off his member just seconds before he came with a groan; thick spend coating his stomach.

You stared at it, watching the droplets create a line down toward the base of his cock, slaves to gravity. Only when he wrapped a large paw over your thigh and gave it a squeeze, did you blink and look back into his eyes.

“Good?” He asked in the same moment you leaned forward, finding himself face first in your breasts, “hello,” he smirked against your skin and bit into the fleshy mounds.

You squealed, searching blindly in the backseat with your hand before your fingertips found what they’d be looking for. And pulling back, with your free hand latching onto Javi’s hair and giving it a playful tug, you produced a Polaroid camera.

“‘S’that for?” he cocked his head to the side.

But you didn’t answer him. Just quickly held it up to your eye, peered through the viewfinder and snapped the photo.

“Hey!” He snatched the photo away as it printed, currently just a gray square, waiting for the final image to appear. “What is this? Blackmail? You take pictures of all your conquests,”

You laughed and grabbed the photo right back, placing it in your bra and lowering your shirt. “You’re not that special, Peña,”

Leaning back while still on his lap to create more distance for the camera, you held it back up to your eye and inspected the frame. This time his face didn’t make the cut, but his chest, down to his stomach still donning his come with his member laid back against it did. Along with your bare thighs straddling him, one of his hands still had real estate on your skin. You snapped that picture, too, and flipped it over to its blank side. With a pen in the center console courtesy of The Tack Room, you wrote your number and handed the picture to Javi. He was out of your car before the thing had even finished developing. And in the darkness of the parking lot, he wouldn’t have been able to see the image even if it had been. A cigarette was in his mouth by the time you peeled out of the lot, and his nerves were settling with the overhead lights in his car flicking on. That was when he saw just what you’d snapped the second time. Two bodies. Anonymous. His cock rested limp against his stomach. Your legs secured around his hips. And a phone number on the back with the instruction, call me, Peña.

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