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gojorgeous · 4 months

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"MINE, MINE, MINE."

pairing: alpha!geto x omega!fem!reader summary: your doctor won’t refill your prescription until you’ve reset your cycle. you’re desperate for that refill, but geto’s not having it. content: MDNI (18+ ONLY), a/b/o dynamics, nsfw, dubcon? (reader doesn’t want a heat but it’s medically necessary (LMAO what)), established relationship, unprotected sex, breeding, praise, pet names, knotting, slight manipulation, dacryphilia, somnophilia, spit, blood, oral (fem!receiving), so much licking and smelling?, geto and reader are just downright feral LMAO, lmk if i missed anything. a/n: have y’all figured out that i have a breeding kink yet… anyway, this is the first a/b/o fic that i’ve ever written but i just read one and was feeling *inspired*. if people want i might do a prequel sort of thing for this that goes more in-depth about how they met and stuff. lmk! also, i have a vampire gojo fic planned hehe get ready bbs. if you want more of my omegaverse fics check out my alpha!gojo fic here! and remember, AGELESS BLOGS WILL BE BLOCKED! divider credit to: @cafekitsune wc: 5.2k

“No.”

No? You shift in your seat, cold and plastic, sure you must have heard him wrong.

“I’m sorry?” you ask. You press your tongue to the roof of your mouth, an anxious habit.

“I can’t refill the prescription. I’m sorry, but, frankly, it would be completely irresponsible of me to do so. I’m shocked your previous physician prescribed them for so long.” Fingers find yours and twine them together. Your eyes flash to Geto, but he’s only staring at your new doctor, staring with that furrow in his brow he only gets when he’s worried.

Your new, soon-to-be old, doctor sighs again, running a hand through his thinning white hair. “You need to have a heat as soon as possible, allow your body to recalibrate. Indefinite use of suppressants is dangerous and unhealthy. They are meant to manage your cycles, not stop them altogether.”

Sweat beads on your palms. He can’t be serious. But it’s his first opinion. Surely there’s another option.

“I-I’m sorry, doctor. I don’t think I’m understanding.”

Another glance at Geto reveals that he’s frowning now. When his eyes find yours you see the decision there, one he’s already made without you. Your stomach drops.

The doctor sighs and suddenly the walls of the office feel small, tight, suffocating. The twinge of alcohol and chemicals in the air makes your nose scrunch. “Let me say this clearly. I will not refill your prescription for suppressants, nor will any other reputable physician. You have been taking them continuously for far too long. You risk permanent damage should you delay a proper cycle any longer.” The doctor glances to Geto, then back to you. “Go home with your alpha and allow nature to take its course. It’s what’s best.”

Your eyes widen with realization– you are not leaving this office with what you came for. Your heart pounds and your palms sweat. “Th-that can’t happen, doctor. I need my suppressants. My job- I can’t be out that long a-and Geto can’t either, we–”

“We will go home,” Geto interrupts, and his tone is final. “Thank you, doctor, for the advice.”

Geto pulls you to your feet, gently but firmly. He leaves no question about the fact that you’re leaving. You can feel the intensity radiating off him in waves. You ignore it. You turn to your new doctor, silently smiting him. Why did your old one have to retire?

“Doctor, you don’t underst–”

“Thank you again,” Geto interrupts.

Before you can make another sound, another protest, Geto pulls you through the door, out of the office, and back to the car. He opens the door for you, as he always does, except this time you’re not so eager to accept his chivalry.

“Suguru,” you bite out. His eyes meet yours, but they are surprisingly gentle. So calm. How is he always calm?

“Just get in, baby. We’ll talk about it in the car.”

You debate saying no, but you can’t bring yourself to start a fight when he’s being so good. You grumble when you climb in, buckling your seatbelt before Geto can do it for you.

The engine revs to life, but you hardly notice. You’re already scrolling your phone, the search bar reading a simple and straightforward “doctors offices near me”. You scroll right past the first ten, for once in your life wanting a doctor that’s a little sketchy. You scroll further– still not sketchy enough. Someone who’ll give you the prescription you need, even if it’s not necessarily… ethical. Or maybe you could get some on the street? Surely there was some kind of dealing ring for that. There was a dealing ring for everything, right?

“What are you doing?” His voice is soft, but his fingers are tight around the steering wheel, skin stretched tight across his knuckles.

You lift your phone to your ear, dialing the first office that looked relatively shitty enough. “Getting a second opinion,” you answer.

Suguru plucks the phone so swiftly from your fingers that you hardly even notice it’s gone. You see him end the call and slip it into his back pocket, out of your reach.

“Hey!” You scramble across the center console, hopelessly grabbing at your lost phone, your last hope.

Suguru grabs your wrist, restraining you far too easily for your liking. “You’re not getting it back,” he says. His eyes never leave the road.

Your brows pinch and anger boils in your stomach. “This is not for you to decide. It’s my body.”

He glances at you, unconcerned. Still calm. “And you’re not in a headspace to be making a responsible decision about it, so I’m making it for you.”

Your jaw drops and you pry your wrist free of his grasp. You escape, but you know it’s only because he allows it. “I am of perfectly sound mind, thank you.”

He shakes his head and sighs. “You’re blinded by desperation.”

“It’s still not for you to decide!” When you don’t notice any change in his expression, you switch tactics– from anger to honesty. You let your face fall, let your true feelings creep through. “You know how much I hate it, Su.”

Finally, he cracks. It’s instantaneous, the way he melts for you- the way the soft smile finds his lips and his hand finds yours, twining your fingers together. “I know, but you have to, baby. You heard the doctor.”

You clench your jaw and avoid the sting of tears behind your eyes. You had heard the doctor, but you weren’t ready. Maybe next month, when you’d had more time to mentally prepare.

Your skin crawled. You hated it, hated this. You hadn’t had a heat in years, avoiding them like the plague. You hated how vulnerable they made you, how they put you at the mercy of another. It wasn’t that you didn’t trust Suguru– you did. You trusted him more than anyone, anything, but you still hated the feeling of being so completely helpless, so completely out of control, even if it was Suguru you were submitting to.

For most of your life, you’d successfully hidden your omega status. With the help of suppressants, you’d passed as a beta until your early twenties. Then you met Geto.

You’d met at work. He was cute, beautiful even, you’d thought, but he screamed alpha– and alphas could be dangerous, especially for hiding, unclaimed omegas like you. You’d stayed away as long as you could and, for a while, you were quite successful. You avoided him in the halls, sat at the opposite end of the table in meetings, replied to emails succinctly but politely. All was well until you’d been trapped in an elevator with him one morning, biting your lip anxiously as you waited to reach the twelfth floor. He’d smelled so good that day, perhaps due to an oncoming rut. You hadn’t been able to resist inching closer, taking deeper breaths. Suguru would later tell you that he’d suspected your hidden status, but he had no reason to question you. At least, not until he had you up against the elevator wall with his face buried in your neck. One deep whiff was all he’d needed to know exactly what you were, even with suppressants in your system.

You’d dated for a little over a year, until you’d decided he was the one. Your fingers dust over the mate mark on your throat, the one that had not only made you undoubtedly Suguru’s, but also the one that had revealed to the world exactly what you were. There was no hiding your true identity with an alpha’s scarred mark on your neck.

Suguru had never seen you through a heat– no one had. You’d taken your suppressants daily, ever since you met him and even long before that. He’d claimed you on a day like any other, no heat necessary. He hadn’t had a rut in all these years, either. When he felt one coming on all he had to do was pop a single pill and all was well– apparently with none of the nasty side effects that came along with your suppressants. Another unfair privilege of being an alpha you supposed.

“Sugu, I can’t do this.” Your lip is raw from how much you’ve been chewing on it by the time you reach home.

Suguru softly shuts the door behind you, lifting your twined hands to his lips, gently kissing your knuckles.

“Yes you can. I know you can.”

You shake your head. He doesn’t understand– doesn’t know what this will do to you, how it will break you. While you hadn’t had a heat in years, you had experienced them before. You loathed them more than anything, loathed the way your mind was a slave to your body and not the other way around, loathed the way your whole body pulsed and throbbed, loathed the way it made you feel so… weak. “I can’t. It’s-it’s-” Your hands come up to cover your face. You sigh and feel the blush crawling beneath your cheeks. “It’s embarrassing. Humiliating.”

There’s silence for a moment, and then a soft sight. Suguru pries your hands from your face gently. When you meet his eyes, he’s all business.

“There’s nothing to be embarrassed about, baby.”

You shake your head and pull away, pacing. “I don’t want anyone to see me like that, Sugu. Not even you.”

Strong hands catch your waist, holding you still. “It’s not a question. It’s happening– for the sake of your health.”

You scoff and shake your head. “It’s not–”

His thumb presses to your lips with just enough pressure to demand silence. The omega in you coos to listen, to submit– the other part of you reels with annoyance.

“End of discussion.”

He’s closer now and you can feel waves of his breath skating across your skin. It’s like a drug, one that the primal side of you can never get enough of. Give in, give in, give in, your omega begs. Listen to your alpha… You try not to focus on the fact that he smells good enough to eat. You know what he’s doing– using his dynamic to persuade you, to make you see his way, playing to the omega you can usually hide so carefully.

“Sugu…” you say. You intend to be angry but you trail off when his eyes catch yours.

“I got you, baby.”

Your heart melts at the words. He waits. Maybe he knows that the smell of his skin on yours is playing tricks on your mind. You wage a battle within. Every instinct urges you to agree and with every passing second it becomes harder to disagree. Perhaps he’s right, perhaps it's time you give in for once. Let him take care of you, your omega purrs. You’re nodding before you realize what you’ve done.

Suguru kisses you quickly, allowing no time for takebacks. When he pulls away he gets to work. He whips his phone from his pocket and you listen to him talking to his boss, your boss, saying that you’ll both be out of work for a week on “family” leave. Your face heats when you realize that your boss now knows exactly what you two are going to be doing for the foreseeable future. Suguru kisses you one last time before he’s out the door, off to get enough food and supplies to last a week. You won’t be leaving your apartment for some time. You don't fail to notice that he doesn’t return your phone before he’s gone.

You don’t notice a difference, even after the sun is gone. It’s not surprising, considering you usually take your suppressants at night– it’ll take a little while longer for them to fully exit your system… you hope. When you’re brushing your teeth you stare at the empty prescription bottle longingly.

You join Suguru in bed. The moment you crawl onto the mattress he pulls you closer into his bare chest. You savor the way your bodies fit so perfectly- like he was meant for you and you alone. His front curls around your back, a leg slotted between your thighs.

“Feel anything?” he asks.

You shake your head to hide your swallow. You almost shiver when Suguru buries himself in your neck, inhaling your scent. You feel him harden against your backside. He must be able to smell your approaching heat even before you can. Part of you expects instinct to take hold of him, for him to make a move, but he only presses a kiss to your jaw and holds you tighter.

“Sleep, baby.”

For once, you follow orders without a fight.

–

Hot. Too hot.

When your eyes flutter open, you feel the pounding of your heart, the labor of your breath, and the growing ache between your legs.

You sit up so fast you see stars, panic flooding your veins. No, no, no, no, no. This was wrong, you’d made the wrong choice. You couldn’t do this. Already, you could feel control slipping from your grasp, your consciousness giving way to something more primal, more feral. You scramble, preparing to stand, to find your phone, to lock yourself away and suffer through this on your own.

“Deep breaths, baby.”

Only then do you realize Suguru is already awake. He’s behind you, hands on your shoulders, both a comfort and a restraint.

“Can’t-” Your breaths are ragged and so are your words. “Can’t do this, Sugu-”

“Yes, you can.” He whispers. He pulls you closer, tighter against him. “You will.”

You shake your head frantically, tears pooling on your lashes. When you turn, Suguru is staring at your neck, at the mate mark on your throbbing pulse. His jaw is clenched when his tongue darts out to wet his lips. He’s restraining himself, you realize. A glance down reveals he’s already painfully hard in his pants. You wonder how long he’s been sitting there, taking in your scent, waiting for you to wake. No doubt his rut has already been triggered.

His eyes raise to yours and he pauses at the tears that leak down your cheeks. He leans closer, and the scent emanating from his neck makes you groan against your will. His kisses away the tears. Slowly, one at a time.

“I’ve got you, baby,” he whispers. “I’ve got you.”

Your body pulls him closer, even as your mind pushes back. “My phone, Sugu,” you panic. “Gotta gimme my phone. C-call a new doctor.”

He shakes his head and when you start to squirm he only holds you tighter, holds you in place.

“No, baby.”

You whimper, seeking the scent gland on his neck against your will. The smell makes your clit throb almost painfully.

“Sugu, please,” you cry. Tears stream from your eyes, staining your lover’s skin.

“‘S gonna be okay. Just let it happen. Don’t fight it, love.”

With each passing moment, you feel your fight slipping further and further away. Suguru rubs at the muscles in your back until you’re slumped against him, pitifully moaning like a wounded animal. It’s not long before your body takes the reins, until you start desperately humping at his thigh, your clit throbbing almost painfully.

“That’s it. Good girl.”

Your eyes roll back at the praise and when Suguru grips your waist you cry out at the touch. Everywhere his skin meets yours feels electric. You’re burning, burning, burning. It’s not until Suguru lays you down on your back that you see the sopping patch of slick you’ve left on his thigh. You whimper at the sight.

“‘S okay, baby. ‘Ve got you.”

Suguru is looking nearly as lost to the lust as you are. Only his willpower and intent keep him from shredding away your panties and breeding your cunt full that very second. He’s never been in the presence of a scent so intoxicating. He’s never been with you, or any omega, through a heat. He thought you smelled amazing before, but now… He is lost to you, lost to the heat he feels emanating from every inch of your skin, to the honeyed scent pouring from your neck, to the slick he sees staining through your panties. His dick twitches in his pants.

“Love you so much, baby. Gonna take such good care of ya,” he whispers. Instinct drives him forward until he’s plastered his lips to your jaw, licking and biting at the skin. You nearly scream at the sensation. You feel his touch everywhere, all at once. With your last coherent thoughts you know that this heat will be unlike any other you’ve ever experienced. It’s already so intense you can hardly think, and you’ve only just begun.

“Sugu,” you plead.

The sound of his name on your lips breaks him. His hand dips across your stomach, thumbing past the edge of your panties until he’s running his finger through your slit, gathering your slick and rubbing it against your clit.

You scream and thrash, so sensitive it nearly hurts, but he only moves to pin you beneath him, forcing you to take everything he gives.

“Gonna make you feel ‘s good, baby.” he hums. He’s lost to you, to your desires, to your needs. Every piece of him screams to please you, to take care of you, in every way possible.

He continues his messy circles on your clit and until you’re gasping, hole clenching around nothing, begging to be filled.

“S-Sugu…” you whine.

The growl that rips from his throat has you arching your back and bearing your throat in an act of submission. You hear a tear and watch your panties hit the floor. Your shirt follows and then you’re completely bare beneath your alpha. His eyes go black at the sight, pupils blown so wide you can hardly see a smidgen of their usual brown. There’s a deep rumble in his chest that has you keening and reaching for him, needing him. He doesn’t waste time. His tongue finds your neck, laving sloppily at your scent gland and the sensation is so delicious that you writhe beneath him.

His fingers slide down your stomach, dipping between your thighs and rubbing at your clit. The touch is somehow gentle despite the complete and total hunger in his eyes, but it has you whining nonetheless. Every place he touches you, which is nearly everywhere, stings so delightfully that your eyes are already rolling back.

But you can’t wait. You can’t. Your body is starved, rabid, and you know what you need.

“Ssssugu… please…” your words are hardly above a whisper, barely a breath, but your alpha still hears you, still knows what you want, what you need.

“I got you, baby… shhhhh…” He gives a final lick to your scent gland before he’s leaning back on his knees, parting your thighs wide, exposing your leaking cunt. You can feel a puddle of slick beneath your ass, your hole clenching desperately around nothing, aching to be filled.

Warm hands slide up your skin and settle on your hips, tugging you a little further down the bed. You whimper, but don’t have time to say anything before you feel him slipping through your folds. A glance down reveals his weeping tip, achingly flushed, bumping and rubbing against your clit. When did his pants come off? You don’t know, you don’t care, all that matters is that the sight steals your breath away.

“Gonna knot you good, princess.”

You nod, wanting nothing more than for him to make good on his promise. You claw and grip at his arms, chanting his name endlessly. His chest rumbles again and your thighs part further on instinct. Finally, he gives you what you want. You feel him pressing in, fat tip stretching you wide. One of his hands moves to press down on your tummy and the combination has tears pooling in your eyes.

He slides in slowly. With every inch you think he must be done, that you can’t take any more. But you can, and you do. When he’s finally fully in your jaw is hanging open in ecstasy and your eyes are rolled back in your skull. His fingers brush your clit and your hips jerk.

“That’s it. So good, baby. So fucking good.”

Your tears flood over, racing down your cheeks. He’s over you again, loose strands of black hair brushing your skin and forcing a whimper from your throat. He licks away your tears, lapping at your cheeks like you’re a fucking lollipop. His hips start thrusting in time with his licks, and it’s more than you can handle. Your thighs tremble and suddenly you’re begging. Pleading, whining, screaming for more. He gives it to you. One hand finds yours, twining your fingers together as he pounds into you so hard he’s rattling your skull. He’s licking at your scent gland again, driving you further and further toward a cliff you’re afraid to fall from. You think this orgasm might shatter you, might break you so thoroughly you’ll never be put back together again. You can feel it tightening at your core with each thrust, each lick, each kiss.

“Fuck,” you hear him growl and whimper at the sound of his voice so close to your ear. “‘M gonna bite you, princess. Gonna mark you up and knot you so good you’ll see fucking stars.” You pant beneath him, unable to word how excited you are by his words, how deliciously they roll across your skin and seep into your spine. “Tell me you didn’t take your pill, baby. Tell me I can breed this pussy full and it won’t go to waste.” He’s not talking about your suppressants you know, but rather the contraceptives you take in tandem with them. Of course you took it, but suddenly something makes you wish you hadn't. “‘M gonna flush ‘em down the fucking toilet. Never letting you take that shit again.”

The primal part of you surges forward at the idea. It chants deep in your mind. Yes, yes, yes…

“Suguuu… please…” It seems like those are the only words your tongue can form.

His lips press to yours, shushing you. “Shhh, baby. Don’ worry. I got you.” He licks across your cheek and down across your jaw until he finds your scent gland again. His thrusts pick up again and you think you might pass out from how good you feel, from how tight your muscles are coiling. You can feel his knot pulsing inside you, preparing to fill you to the brim. You’ve never felt more ready for anything.

“Sugu–”

And it’s at that moment that he makes good on his promise. His teeth sink into your neck and you feel your bond snap taut like a string, pulsing with the closeness of your connection. It’s pure ecstasy. Suguru’s knot swells, notching tightly inside you and when you feel his cum pulsing into your womb it’s all too much. You think you must be screaming from the pleasure but you only hear the ringing in your ears as your orgasm washes over you. Your muscles clench, your toes curl, your back arches, you see those stars Suguru promised. Heat tingles through your limbs and down your spine and you think you’ve probably just melted into the mattress. But you haven’t, and when your vision returns, you’re panting and staring at the ceiling.

Suguru is above you and you can feel him still cumming, still releasing rope after rope of thick, hot cum into you. The sensation makes you groan and he laps at your neck, cleaning up the blood from the new mark he’s just given you. Your consciousness trickles back in, the primal piece of you partially sated for the time being. You remember the context of your situation, why you’re here and not at work, what you’re doing. You’re puzzled by why you’d been so panicked by the idea of a heat before. How could you have been so reluctant, so scared, when nothing has ever felt this right?

Suguru is peppering you with kisses now, pulling you tight to his chest and rolling you both onto your sides where you’ll stay until his knot softens.

“Sleep, princess,” he says and he uses that tone that always compels you to listen, to please. You happily do as he says and when your eyes drift shut it’s not long before you’re lost to a world of comfortable darkness.

You wake to the throbbing again. All of the pent up need Suguru had sated has returned with a vengeance. You need him again, but it appears he already knows that.

You feel him between your legs, his hair fully loose now and tickling the insides of your thighs. He’s eating you out, slurping up the cum that’s leaking down your thighs and spitting it back onto your cunt. It’s filthy, disgusting, and you love it.

“Sugu–” you gasp and your hips buck. His eyes lock with yours and the smile he gives you nearly makes you come on the spot. He holds your gaze as he licks one last long stripe over your folds. You whimper and clench around nothing. Empty, empty, empty…

“Sorry, baby,” he whispers against your skin. He’s kissing his way up your body now, leaving little circles of spit that cool when they touch the air and make you shiver. “‘Y smelled so good…”

You whine and whimper, clawing at his back and leaving scratches you think might draw blood. You’re too worried about getting him inside of you to check.

You’re gasping like you’ve never had a breath of air in your life, like you’ve drowned and every touch he gives you fills your lungs with much-needed oxygen. His hands rub gently at your waist, but it’s not enough. You want him to wreck you, ruin you. You say as much.

“M-more…” you beg and when he hums against your neck you squirm desperately. Warm hands dig into your flesh and suddenly you find yourself flipped onto your stomach. You feel Suguru behind you, pushing your thighs apart with his knees. His hands find your hips again and lift, propping you up with your face still pressed to the pillows. When you whimper he runs a soothing hand up and down your spine.

“‘S okay, baby. Relax. Lemme take care ‘ve you.”

Yes, yes, yes, you think. You don’t think you’ve ever wanted anything more. His fingers dig into your skin, holding you still when he feeds his dick into you, one inch at a time. You cry out, tearing at the sheets and begging for more, even when you already feel like you’re splitting in half. When he’s finally seated inside you he drapes himself over your back, brushing your hair over one shoulder to expose your neck. He leans in to lick you again, thrusting sharply the moment his tongue brushes your skin. You wail, pressing your face to the sheets and attempting to rock yourself back against him. One of his hands smooths over the flesh of your ass as he sets a pace, one that makes you bite down on a pillow to muffle your screams.

“No.” Suguru uses that tone that makes you listen, that one that calls instinctively to the omega inside you, that urges you to please. He reaches for your pillow, tossing it aside and letting his hand curl around your throat as he continues to fuck you, letting his fingers feel the vibrations of every noise you make. “Let me hear you, baby. Always let me hear you.”

You nod, eager to make him happy, eager to do as he says. You don’t dare restrain a single sound, eyes rolling back. The angle he has you at has your thighs trembling. He’s so deep, so close. You feel his heartbeat against your back, feel his tongue on your skin, his hand on your throat, his cock at your cervix.

When he groans, you groan with him, feeling his dick pulse inside you, his knot beginning to swell. You need it, need it so bad you can hardly stand it.

“P-please, please, please–”

He swells inside you, locking your bodies together as his orgasm hits. It’s all you need to find your own. You wail into the mattress, cunt clenching and legs trembling until you collapse, flattening against the beg. Suguru follows you down, wrapping his arms around your waist and whispering in your ear.

“Take it all, baby. Good girl. Take it all…”

You nod, not even sure what you’re agreeing to. All you can feel is his cum flooding your insides, pulsing and pumping so deep into you that you swear your tummy is swelling with the sheer amount of it. Still, your body wants more, clenching and milking him for every last drop, just like he asked.

When you both come down from your orgasms he pulls you into his chest once again, whispering promises of protection and love that lull you into a trance-like state of happiness. When you fall asleep again, he’s chanting a word that your omega repeats right back to him. “Mine, mine, mine.”

When you wake again it’s to the sound of Geto staying true to his word and flushing every last birth control pill you have straight down the toilet. Your omega surges at the idea, but one mewl from you and he’s back in your arms, like you’re somehow the one in charge, not him. With every passing moment, you being to think that might be true- that perhaps a heat does not makes you as weak as you thought. Your alpha submits as much to you as you submit to him.

The week is spent in a frenzy. You do not measure by the numbers on the clock or where the sun is in the sky, rather you know time only as how long it’s been since Suguru’s been locked inside you. If it were up to you, you’d never stop, but Geto forces you to sleep, to eat, to bathe. Of course, he’s never far away when you’re following his instructions and you usually get a kiss and his knot as a reward for being such a good girl.

It’s ten days later when your heat finally starts to wane. It feels as though every inch of you is covered in him. Bites, hickies, kisses, cum… no part of you has been left untouched. Suguru has had you everywhere. The bed, the shower, the bath, the kitchen. Every surface in the whole apartment reeks of sex and slick. He never keeps you too far from the bedroom, though, where you’ve piled up mountains of his shirts and sheets. Anything that smells like him, anything that can keep you tethered in those brief moments when Suguru goes to fetch you food or water or run you a bath. He takes care of you, just like he promised.

When you wake completely clear-headed for the first time in well over a week, it’s to Suguru’s arms and lips. He’s got you all wrapped up in him, his arms locked around your waist almost like he expects you to bolt. You almost do when everything comes flooding back to you, this time with a completely clear conscience. But then he kisses your neck and whispers a delightful little, “welcome back, baby” against your neck and suddenly you’re realizing how… revitalized you feel, like a part of you has finally been properly satisfied after years of waiting. You’d always hated this, always hated the part of you that begged and cowered, hated heats- but maybe with Suguru… they really weren’t all that bad.

taglist (DM me to be added!): @lacheri, @la-undercover-latina

link: alpha!gojo fic

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charliemwrites · 4 months

Text

Sniff, sniff…. Woof.

“Johnny? Johnny, baby, come here!”

Your big wolf boy comes bounding in from the living room as you shut the front door, immediately rearing up to sniff at your neck and face and hands. Satisfied, he licks your cheek and drops down again.

“Alright, listen up, handsome.” You grab his cheeks, scritching along his jaw and grinning as his big blue eyes go dopey. “My sister and her husband are going to stay the night. You are going to be a polite boy because you love me and don’t want to give my sister anything to talk shit about. Yes?”

A sneeze that he (for once) aims away from you. You laugh, drop a kiss between his eyes.

“Good talk.”

As usual, he follows you through the house as you shed clothes and shoes and bags. You ramble about the grocery store and your day, mostly just to get it out so your headspace can be clear for the evening. Helps to have a little (relatively) listener following at your heels.

He camps out in the bathroom while you shower, licking the glass door until you scold him - per usual. And again when he tries to lick the clean water off your leg. Only starts getting restless and grumpy when he sees you change into “outside” clothes rather than pjs.

You groan as he tries to herd you away from your own closet. Must be mixed with a shepherding dog because he’s a damn pushy jerk.

“Enough, bud,” you sigh. “Look, I don’t wanna go much either. But it’ll be worse if I don’t.”

He mouths off at you, a new thing he’s started up that reminds you of a husky. Maybe you should get one of those doggy DNA tests.

“I know I know,” you coo, shimmying into a pair of pants that your sister won’t be able to tease makes your ass look flat. “I’d rather snuggle up and watch 90s vampire movies too. But I already said I’d go and this means I’ll be able to skip seeing her on her birthday.”

More grumbles, but at least he climbs up on the bed to pout. You finish dressing and head for the vanity - no way you can go out with your sister without makeup.

As you pass, you roll him over to scratch his belly - politely ignoring his reaction. God, you really need to get him in for a neutering. If you catch him humping one more pillow—

When it’s time to go, you drop down to give him one last hug.

“Be good, baby. I’ll be home soon with some new friends. I love you.”

—

After dinner, your sister’s husband suggests a bar. And, of course, it’s a sports bar. Man can’t go more than an hour or two without.

You and your sister chat while his eyes stayed glued to the screens. Well, she chats. You mostly just provide the audience she constantly craves, the validation she always needs.

At some point your excuse yourself to order another drink, weaving between the patrons and sighing at a chance to let your face rest for a moment. While you’re waiting, someone brushes up close behind you, startles you.

“Och, sorry, hen. Madhouse in here.”

You blink, tilt your head back to see a gorgeous pair of blue eyes shining down at you. Takes your breath away.

“Oh! Um, no problem, I get it.”

You try to scoot as much as you can - but it really is packed, especially at the bar - and the man takes the opportunity to occupy any free space you have.

Not that you’re complaining. He’s got the type of face they put on magazines with hooks like “sexiest man alive.” A killer grin as he winks down at you, arm bracing on the bar.

“Buy ya a drink for bein’ so rude?”

You’ve barely gotten the start of, “oh it’s alright,” out before he’s signaling the bartender. His stature and presence gets him instant service though, so you let it go, fidgeting restlessly.

Even his voice sounds like a sin worth committing. He’s too attractive. Too handsome to not know it; and definitely too handsome to be chatting you up and ordering you a drink.

“You here with anyone?” he asks with an edge that makes your spine prickle. Yet you almost feel like you imagine it. His tone is normal, his expression hasn’t changed and yet. Something subsonic in the timbre of his voice, maybe.

“My sister and her husband,” you reply.

“No husband of your own?”

You try to laugh, it comes out strained and awkward. “Ah, the only man in my life has four legs.”

Instead of looking annoyed by the brush off, his eyes spark.

“Dog?”

“Yup!” And okay, alarms in your head aside, you’re always happy to talk about Johnny. He’s a safe topic. You fish your phone out of your back pocket and show him your lock screen.

The man takes a quick look at the screen, an odd, private smile flicking across his face. There and then gone, before those intense eyes are locked on you again.

“He friendly?”

You laugh a bit, perk up as the bartender returns with your drink. “Not with men. Thanks for buying!”

as you turn to go, he grabs your hip. Not hard, or even too low. But you gasp quietly, the heat of his palm searing through your clothes.

“Name’s soap, by the way.”

Infinitely more nervous now, you stutter out your own and then retreat to your sister and her husband.

Spend the rest of the night pretending not to watch Soap. He doesn’t return the courtesy, eyes trained on you, lurking around the bar. So visible it seems to only you. Something about the way the light catches his eyes reminds you of when Johnny senses a threat. When he gets low and growly, hair standing on end, eyes focused.

Soap looks like he’s hunting you.

Thankfully, your sister complains about the noise after an hour or so and the three of you leave. You’re relieved to be going home.

As you step inside, you call for Johnny again.

“Wait, who the hell is Johnny?” your sister’s husband asks, an odd look on his face. “You’re living with someone?”

You snort a bit. Does he seriously not remember you talking about your dog?

“Yeah,” you joke, “he’s the love of my life, my one and only—”

You hear the clack of the doggy door and call out again. Johnny trots in panting.

“Did you just come in from a run?” you chuckle, putting a hand out in greeting.

He comes right up to you, presses his nose to the spot where “Soap” grabbed you and snuffles.

“I know, I smell wrong,” you soothe.

He grumbles and licks at your shirt, but you gently nudge him away, turning as your sister scoffs.

“You still do that thing where you talk to them like people?” She asks. “Don’t you think that’s… childish?”

“Johnny’s basically a person in a human body,” you reply, laughing. “You’ll see.”

“Dogs shouldn’t have human names,” her husband pipes up, reaching for Johnny.

“No, wait—”

Johnny snaps just shy of his fingers and puts himself bodily between you two.

“Easy!” you yelp, hooking your hand in his collar. “Sorry, I meant to warn you - Johnny’s shy with men.”

“He almost took my bloody hand off!”

“He’s just protective. Johnny, heel.”

He stops snarling, but plants himself at your feet right there, eyes sharply trained on your brother in law. Your sister snorts.

“How are you supposed to get men back here, then?”

You jump as Johnny barks, a full deep one that your rarely ever hear. Your sister startles too, then scowls.

“I don’t,” you answer, shaking your head. “Anyway, let me just get the sheets for the spare room and we can call it a night.”

Johnny stays close at your heels the entire time, though you swear he throws a nasty glance back at your sister’s husband.

#thoughts™️#cod #my writing #fanfiction #dark fic #reader fic

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not-the-cheese · 9 months

Text

one sentence(ish) summaries of every magnus archive episode PART 2

(eps 61-110) thank u for the funny comments and tags on the last part i love u guys

the rest of these may take a while as i've caught up to where i am currently in the podcast but i will finish them like in a month i promise

----

61. the thrilling sequel to man does not open coffin: man DOES open coffin.

62. surely this doctor can find an easier way to scam people out of money than putting them in a little book.

63. THE DARK ATE MY BROTHER IN LAW.

64. this is possibly the plot of laura croft tomb raider

65. mmm crumchy

66. what's the opposite of an unboxing video

67. as close to a coffeeshop au as you're going to get from this podcast

68. Doctors hate him! Man REFUSES to die from tuberculosis!

69. your college's psych department has the worst idea ever.

70. reverse death note

71. not even death will stop this woman from taking the british subway

72. man doesn't want to be low key racist in his last moments before getting eaten

73. police versus the second coming of dark jesus

74. lady is haunted by an ad for coffee

75. mike crew says "uh fuck it let's just put this guy on a skyscraper forever"

76. ryan from buzzfeed unsolved breaks into a train yard and suffers consequences

77. you're not a enough of a bitch to be my real mom

78. man gets harassed by his cousin and then exorcises him

79. you know that chase scene in scooby doo with the doors

youtube

80. stupid idiot motherfucking jurgen leitner

81. i have been personally victimized by the sequel to the hungry hungry caterpillar

82. pov: elias threatens to cancel you

83. mannequin takes matters into its own hands after people don't like its pitch for a new window display

84. a hoarder put newspaper on my friend's face :(

85. hey there's maybe a little man upon these stairs?

86. man gets got by a squiggly thing in the dark.

87. plumber is so oblivious to spooky happenings around him that it possibly saves his life.

88. guys i think this guy likes to dig

89. lesbian investment banker finds a new, less evil job: arson!

90. guy who turns people's bones starts a gym where he promises not to turn your bones! (he is lying)

91. i was stalked by lightning for 10 years and i all i got were these stupid scars

92. jonah magnus is a bad friend // another day another elias slay

93. ocd is no match for purple fuzz

94. let the bodies drop gently to the floor let the bodies drop gently to the floor

95. im so sorry my brain refuses to remember what the war ones were about but i think one guy got gently kissed on the forehead so that's pretty nice.

96. diversity wins! the not-quite-human delivery men who stole your identity and business are maybe gay?

97. man gets gaslighted by an entire town about a hole

98. 🎶mister sandman bring me a dream, actually don't, please stay far from me 🎶

99. another one bites the dust

100. archival assistants face off against the general public (they lose)

101. jon finally levels up high enough to unlock an eldritch horror's tragic backstory

102. LOCAL MAN MARRIES BUG

103. peppa eats a clown and they cover her in concrete instead of congratulating her.

104. pennywise stole my brother's skin

105. it's world war z baby

106. Something Big Is In Space.

107. man is interrogated about the time he saw thomas the train roasts people alive and also sans is there

108. actor is stalked by mask who liked his monologue so much that it tells its mask friends to come watch.

109. sometimes a family is just a serial killer's daughter and that guy who maybe killed some vampires

110. yeah man those spiders be eating

Part 1 |

#tma #i hope this convinces you to listen to tma #the magnus archives #sasha james #jon sims #podcasts #gay podcasts #elias bouchard #peter lukas #melanie king #gerard keay #jonathan sims #martin blackwood #jonmartin #funny #one sentence summaries #sillyposting #Youtube #queer

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sideblog-ver3 · 2 months

Text

club bang (18+)

(vampire boobs) (spider webs) (big dick steve)

“oh- oh fu- fuck me… ah- ah stevie.”

the loud bass and synth of the club music echoed through the cracks of the locked bathroom door. there was whooping and hollering, people talking loudly and screeching from intoxication just outside the door.

“you like that? my cock hitting you good?” steve’s left hand wrapped in your hair tight while his right held onto your hip as he snapped himself hard against your ass. stomach pressing into the cool countertop, left hand gripping onto the sink while you reached behind with your right to hold onto steve’s wrist.

you stared into yourself, mirrored reflection bathed in the seductive red glow of the club lighting. mouth hanging open, jaw dropping off its hinges while your eyes fluttered with each thrust and deep touch from steve’s tip. your moans started to sync in rhythm with the remixed version of a pop song, you started to whine more high pitched when steve picked up speed.

“ah ah ah ah- so- go- good- ah ah ah.” head tilting foreward, eyes catching the motion of your tits bouncing.

“atta girl. taking it like a champ, baby.” grip releases your hair, giving your scalp a moment to breath as you both catch your breath and feel steve adjust you into a new position.

his legs spreading a bit wider, palms manhandling your hands to push into the mirror then gripping at your hips again. harder this time, an excited gasp as the pressure to your skin.

“be a good girl and watch me fuck you good.” lips attacking your neck, then down to your shoulders before pulling away. you couldn’t contain the whine at the lack of kisses he’s given in the last thirty minutes. “kisses later, baby. need to fuck you badly.” a growl to steve’s words caused you to clench around his slick cock.

“oh, yeah. keep- keep doing that.” steve demanded as he bent his knees a bit and started to thrust at a different angle. tip ramming into that sweet spot steve can always find, the one that turns you into putty.

“stevie… fuck…” only able to get those two words about before more oohs and aahs dropped from your gaping mouth.

“going dumb on me? cat got your tongue, baby?” a condescending to steve’s taunt. you nodded, fully cock drunk with each thrust and grunt that followed.

changing positions again, steve dragged his left hand over your bouncing chest before letting his long, slim fingers wrap snugly along your throat. then moving his right over your exposed stomach, teasing fingers taking their time to reach your clit and starting to tease at the nub.

“ah ah, the- there, yes yes yes! oh, stevie!” using one hand to hold onto his forearm. your pussy sucked him in tighter, feeling yourself getting closer with each flick. “close- so close…” declaring to steve.

“me too, fuck. i’m gonna- gonna cum inside. it’ll stay there all night, our- our secret.” reaching to squeeze at a bouncing tit. “gonna eat you out when we go home.” purring into your ear.

“ah… stevie-“ “i know, me too. just let go.” teeth biting at your left ear lobe, lips wetting the skin as he pulled away. the action only spurred you on further, feeling your heart speeding up, legs getting shaky by the second and drool rolling from your lips.

“cum on my cock baby, you can do it. and i’ll cum in this pussy, claiming it as mine” and stars exploded behind your eyes. a loud, cracked moan flooded the tiny bathroom, steve’s low hums a second after and you could feel his warm cum mixing with your dripping arousal.

steve pressed a kiss onto the back of your neck, “that’s my baby. did so good for me.” and he slowly slid out your hole, both of you gasping at the sensation.

steve worked to slid your panties back on, making sure to give the band a snap to your hips then fixed your mini skirt into place. you worked to fix your hair and what was left of your makeup while steve tucked himself back into his levi’s.

wrapping his arms from behind, steve rested his chin onto your shoulder. love struck eyes watching your face as you smiled at him through the mirror.

“ready to go back?” he asked. you knew he meant the crowd but you shook your head and bit into your bottom lip before saying, “nah. let’s go home. wanna sixty-nine with you all night.” and who was steve to say no to you.

#steve harrington smut #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington x gn!reader #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington #stranger things imagine #stranger things smut

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britany1997 · 1 year

Note

Hi! I saw that requests were open, and I was hoping I could requests Poly!Lost boys (or/and with Michael if you can!) with a reader who’s owns a bakery? The boys take notice of a new shop on the boardwalk and peek in to see you.

(Reader is GN, and likes to dress cutesy as well!)

If You Give A Vampire A Cookie…

AHHHHH Michael my love🥺 yes of course I can write this for you💕💕 hope you like it!

Poly! Lost boys & Michael x GN cutesy Reader

🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇

A bundle of black leather flashed down the boardwalk as Paul zoomed around. Marko was on his heels, laughing and trailing after him, “I told you we should have put him on one of those animal backpack leashes,” Marko called back at Dwayne as Dwayne followed the two blonds.

“If he doesn’t behave he’ll find himself on a different kind of leash.” Dwayne warned.

“Ooh Paul, hear that? you’re in trouble,” Marko singsonged.

“Yeah jokes on you Dwayne, I like that shit!” Paul yelled back as he ran.

Dwayne groaned.

David smirked as he watched Dwayne attempt to control the chaos twins on his own. David much preferred to hang back, his hand possessively wrapped around Michael’s neck as the two strolled along the boardwalk.

“Stay close pet, don’t want you running off like those two,” David cooed at Michael.

Michael rolled his eyes and slithered out of David’s grip, “I’m not a child David, I think I can manage myself on the boardwalk,” he paused, “and I’m not your pet either.”

David chuckled to himself, “whatever you wanna tell yourself love,” he said as he slid his arm around Michael’s waist, pulling him against his side.

He leaned in to whisper in Michael’s ear, “but I know you don’t mind what I call you when we’re at home. Maybe you’re just a house pet huh baby?”

Michael shivered as he felt his cheeks flush pink

“Stop it,” he whispered back nervously.

David pouted in reply, “thought you liked it when i played with you pretty boy.”

Michael’s blush deepened, “can’t you keep it in your pants till we get home?”

David smirked, “what can I say, you’re irresistible.”

Michael smiled softly as David leaned in.

“HEY GUYS,” Paul’s booming voice broke the pair away from their sweet moment.

“This better be good,” David grumbled.

Paul tapped his foot as he waited for the others to catch up.

Marko and Dwayne slowed to a stop in front of the blond boy, David and Michael not far behind. They looked curiously as Paul gestured to a little white shop they’d never seen before.

As the other four boys took in the sight, Paul pressed his face up against the giant window at the front of the store. He admired the pretty cakes, beautifully frosted and decorated with plastic floral arrangements. He drooled over the warm brownies wrapped in cellophane and tied with pink bows. But his eyes widened when he caught sight of the rows and rows of cookies displayed in a tray behind the glass. He’d swear he could already taste them.

He turned back to his boyfriends, “please, please, please can we go in and get something? I’ve been so good lately!” he begged.

Dwayne scoffed, “no you haven’t.”

Paul dropped to his knees and inched towards Dwayne, his hands clasped together, “please please please please,” Paul chanted, giving Dwayne his best puppy dog eyes, those always seemed to make him cave.

Dwayne sighed as Marko bit his thumb to keep from laughing. “David, what do you think? We got time before morning?”

David checked his watch, his arm still around Michael’s waist, “yeah we got time.”

“Yes!” Paul whisper-cheered to himself.

“Not so fast blondie,” David raised an eyebrow, “you got bakery money?”

Paul’s demeanor deflated as he looked through his shoe and cringed. “Michael?” he asked sweetly.

Michael rolled his eyes but smiled, “yes Paul?”

Paul pouted at Michael, jutting his bottom lip out and furrowing his brows.

Michael laughed, “ok fine,” he walked over to hand Paul a five dollar bill.

Paul sprang up and wrapped his arms around Michael, kissing him squarely on the mouth.

“I love you Michael!” Paul exclaimed as he pulled away.

Michael smiled and blushed, “I love you too Paul.”

Paul smiled and skipped into the store, Michael’s five dollars in hand, while David crossed his arms and grumbled.

Dwayne bumped David with his elbow as Marko and Michael slipped through the door. “C’mon, they need constant supervision,” he reminded David.

“Been tryna kiss him all night but nooo crazy blond shakes him down and he gets a smooch. Bullshit.” David mumbled under his breath as he followed Dwayne inside.

As David passed through the doorway his jaw dropped.

Michael, Marko, and Paul were already crowded around the counter talking to the most attractive human he’d ever seen (besides Michael of course).

You were wearing the palest pink uniform, and the brightest smile. He found himself absolutely transfixed.

As he approached his circle of boyfriends, he heard Paul’s persistent flirting.

“All these snacks baby but you gotta be the sweetest thing in here,” Paul winked, leaning over the counter.

You blushed, “that’s so kind of you to say, can I get you anything?”

“Yeah honey, give me three sugar cookies, I’m not real liquid right now…” he said as he hid the fiver in his back pocket, “you take kisses?”

You smirked and laughed, “I take money.”

He mock-pouted, “that’s ok sugar, I was gonna give ‘em to you for free anyway.”

Paul leaned in, but was caught by the back of the collar by Michael. “Sorry about him,” he said blushing.

Michael swiped the money from Paul’s back pocket and handed it to you, “for the sugar cookies,” he said, flustered.

“I’ll bring them right out,” you smiled.

Michael sighed wistfully as he watched you turn to grab the cookies from the back.

“What the hell man?” Paul asked, “I was about to seal the deal!”

“Paul,” Dwayne interjected, “what did we say about kissing strangers?”

“It’s fun?” Paul guessed.

“Don’t do it.” Dwayne and Michael corrected at the same time.

Paul pouted.

You pushed past the double doors, your arms filled with sweets.

“You all are the first customers I’ve had since I opened so I threw in a couple extra things,” you blushed.

You handed Paul the three sugar cookies, leaning over the counter to kiss his cheek.

He flashed you a dopey smile as his hand flew to his cheek. “I’ll never wash this cheek again,” he sighed.

You giggled, “I sure hope that’s not true, you’d think you’d wanna keep a pretty face like that clean.”

It was taking all of Paul’s self-control not to jump over the counter and shower you with sloppy wet kisses.

You turned to Marko handing him a Sfogliatella. His eyes widened in shock, “I love Sfogliatella! I haven’t been able to find them anywhere,” he told you.

“My grandma’s recipe,” you smiled, “I love them too, I haven’t really seen ‘em anywhere in the U.S., so why not make them myself.”

Marko melted.

You looked at Dwayne, placing a chocolate chip cookie in his hand. “Dark chocolate chips instead of milk chocolate,” you told him.

“For a richer flavor?” he asked, eyebrow raised.

“Exactly!” you beamed, “thought you’d like it.”

His lips turned up into a half-smile, “thank you, that’s so thoughtful.”

You moved to Michael and offered him a big, gooey, brownie.

He blushed as he took it from your outstretched hands, “these are my favorite, how’d you know?” he furrowed his brow in confusion.

You shrugged, “call it baker’s intuition, you strike me as a brownie guy.”

He blushed, “talk about a sixth sense,” he mumbled, “you really are the sweetest thing in here.”

Your face flushed at his words as Paul grumbled that Michael had ‘stolen his line.’

David cleared his throat, “nothin for me love?” he raked his eyes over your form.

You laughed, “you just didn’t strike me as a sweets guy,” you clarified as you poured him a cup of coffee.

When you finished, you offered him the styrofoam cup, which he took from your gratefully.

“Clever little thing aren’t you?” he flirted.

“I like to think so,” you winked.

David’s smile spread across his whole face, “well if you aren’t the cutest thing…” he trailed off as he leaned on the counter.

Dwayne cleared his throat, prompting David to check his watch. Shit. Sunrise was coming.

He frowned, “gotta get goin’ sweet but we’ll be back,” he promised, winking.

You bit your lip, “I hope so, I’m here every night.”

You blushed as each boy reluctantly pulled themselves away and strolled out the door.

You couldn’t help but think moving your business to Santa Carla was the smartest decision you’d ever made.

🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇

Taglist❤️:

@consuming-karma @misslavenderlady @ghoulgeousimmaculate @6lostgirl6 @bloodywickedvamp @pixielostboy @gothamslostboy @dwaynesluscioushair @paulxbathbomd @sidefanficaccounttohidemyshame @warrior-616 @anna1306 @riz-coolgirl @flower-crowned-lady @feardot-com @its-freaking-bats @solobagginses @vampirefilmlover @lostboys1987girl @cherryfrostbites

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bogleech · 3 months

Text

MY DRAGON QUEST MONSTERS THREAD

Dragon Quest Monsters: The Dark Prince is the first DQM game I've ever gotten to play after admiring the series since childhood. The bad news is that it leaves out exactly the three DQ monsters I love most. The good news is that everything else about it is great. I've been taking regular screenshots as I play and I am going to start adding things about it to this post, so it is going to get long. First of all here are exactly my next three favorite monsters in the franchise, which they fortunately did include, and were all available to me by almost the first area:

"Mad Mollusk" or in other dq games "taileater" is great because it has a sad flabby slug face at one end and a fanged leech mouth at the other end. When it uses magic, it reveals giant eyeballs in its antennae somehow?! Love how big the "carnivorous" mouth gets in the attack animation. What a stretchy guy!

"Lunatick" is just called "meda" (eye) in Japanese, I'm glad they decided it was like a parasite thing in the localization.

Finally there's DROHL, a classic DQ enemy that looks like...well I'm not gonna say what it really looks like but I think it's a cool little freak unrelated to that and I think it talks exactly like Droopy dog. Oddly it's known as a "Drohl DRONE," and I believe there are other "castes" in other DQ games, but only the "drones" are in this one sadly. I've yet to find this in the wild; I got it through the breeding system!

....Which is by far the most addicting thing about this game. The actual gameplay is good solid turn based RPG stuff, if a bit basic, but every monster can be bred with another monster to unlock a slew of other species. This is one of the first games in which they actually call it a "fusion" system now, I guess dropping the word "breed" from the English localization, but all other in-game dialog still calls these the 'parents' and 'offspring' and even makes jokes that they're getting married, so yeah, it's still breeding. What happens when you breed a slime with someone's dead grandpa??

.....There are multiple monsters you can get from that, but one of them, and the one that makes the most sense, is Slimeshroom! This is a new DQ slime that's some fungus! What's also fun is that every monster has up to three skills, and each skill actually unlocks a ton of spells, attacks, boosts and effects as you spend skill points on them. Then when you breed two monsters, you can give the baby any three skills from the parents. Any at all! I used this to make my Slimeshroom both a healer and a fire mage in the early game. This catches you up with the same progress I talked about when I first got the game almost two months ago so here's some things that have happened since:

I bred a flying cat and a vampire chinchilla to get a.....sexy bat??

I helped a fat rat - that's the name of his species - rescue his son

I bred a people ghost with a lamp ghost to get a bag of dirt!

I fought this bastard giraffe man who called an elderly wizard a "naughty boy" and put him in candy jail.

"Duffer" from the Giraffe quest is also best friends with Eileen the eye demon, and when you rescue him, they become your loyal subjects! BAD NEWS: this entire game is actually a prequel to Dragon Quest 4, and the player character of this game is the villain of Dragon Quest 4. Duffer and Eileen are also in Dragon Quest 4. They die :( .......Maybe this game gives you a chance to fix that future??? I don't know.

#dragon quest #dragon quest monsters

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mooshywrites · 3 months

Text

Something Borrowed, Something New

Astarion x Reader, Astarion x Female!tav

Masterlist

Art commissions

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

A/N - i just finished my play through of my astarion run and to say i feel hollow about the ending is SUCH an understatement. So since the game doesn’t have the storage space to give me a slice of life simulator with my favorite vampire, then ive decided to make one myself ~

Word count - 1.6K

Warnings - N/A ~ sickly sweet fluff, minor spoilers, baby’s first blurb

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

“My darling, if you keep your nose buried in those books, your life is going to pass before your eyes.”

The gentle tease brought your wandering tiefling mind hurtling back to earth. In truth, you hadn’t even been reading, the words in front of you becoming a mess of blurry text and complicated theories. You lifted your gaze to meet the source of the tease, the entire reason behind your recent studies.

“It’s an important book, Astarion. The shopkeep said this book has anything and everything anyone knows about vampires.” Your lips took on a slight smile as the exasperation in your voice lifted, “Or do you want to spend the rest of your life trying to remember what the sun feels like.”

Astarion rolled his eyes, leaning back against the plush chair and crossing his arms, “That shopkeep of yours is a con-man. If there was a cure to being what I am, it wouldn’t be in some silly book.”

The elf softened his tone as he saw the way his lover’s shoulders dropped, knowing it wasn’t fair to discredit any of her attempts at curing his… affliction. “You’re going to make yourself sick if you don’t at least attempt to sleep, darling.”

You allowed yourself a dramatic sigh as the book slipped out of your hands, being gently taken by the white-haired thief. You knew he was right, knew that there was no more information to glean from this book, especially not while your eyes drooped and your mind grew foggy. As much as you hated giving Astarion the pleasure of being right, and you did hate it, you were exhausted. Exhausted and feeling utterly hopeless at your task

”You may be right.” You said in a small voice, “It would be much to easy to open a book and find a spell to let a vampire spawn walk in the sunlight”

The cushion you sat upon dipped slightly, gentle arms pulling you into a comforting embrace.

“You know how uncomfortable seeing you in pain makes me, pet” Astarion murmured, pressing a gentle kiss to your temple.

”I just want to find a cure already” You protested, “A spell, a potion, a demon contract I can sign to get you under that god-forsaken ball of fire again. You would think that taking down a hoard of ilithid would make any challenge look like a stroll through the woods.” Your words were tense and harsh, a tone you immediately regretted as you felt the pale elf beside you stiffen against it.

“You must have patience, my darling. It’s only been a couple of years since we’ve began this journey.” His fingers poked into your side teasingly, earning a small laugh. “We do have forever, you know.

“Mmhm, forever with a dramatic vampire who wants to go adventuring for a cure but hates being away from his precious comforts.” You teased, looking back up at him.

”Oh, please.” Astarion tutted disapprovingly. “You’d think after a couple centuries of servitude and then saving the world would earn a man the rights to a comfort or two.”

Your sleepy head found a comfortable place in the crook of the vampires neck, the rest of you leaning into his cool touch. “Well if you’re so attached to them, maybe we should just stay here and find a way to enjoy your ‘comfort or two.”

Silence fell over the small room in the even tinier inn. You were uncomfortably aware of the lack of snide remark back from your partner. With Astarion, silence was always an abnormality.

”Or somewhere bigger.” You added jokingly, your voice coming out as an unsure whisper.

You weren’t sure about how Astarion felt about settling down. In truth, it hadn’t come up in the time you’d been together so far. Most of your talks were about next steps, new theories, different wizards to contact with questions about Astarion’s condition. Neither of you had been brave enough to talk about the life you might both lead if Astarion was able to live normally again. Neither brave enough to face the disappointment of that future being possibly impossible. But the more you adventured, the more days spent sleeping in one Inn after another, you felt the longing to put down roots more and more every day.

You bit your lip, hands nervously picking at nails already picked to the short. Wouldn’t Astarion find that kind of thinking entirely selfish? How could you ask him to sacrifice further potential freedom?

You were brought back to your thoughts again as Astarion’s slender hand tilted your chin towards his gaze. The relief that filled you as you saw his knowing smile was probably laughable, the crinkles next to his eyes as he grinned dissipating what was left of your anxiety. What did it matter where you were and what you were doing or where your head lay when daylight started to seem into the sky? It’s the person you awoke beside that’s important.

”What thoughts fill those pretty head of yours?” Astarion teased. Peering at your forehead as he were trying to see the physical thoughts.

”Oh, just thinking of what a nightmare you will be when we have a place of our own after this mess.” You retorted, smiling, pulling your best impersonation of the man next to you “Oh, not there, darling. Those drapes simply must be a hair to the left. And who on earth did this border? Aht, no one in this town can embroider properly.” You flourished your hands dramatically, putting on a rather good play of the vampire.

”I don’t sound a thing like that, love.” He replied, feigning offense. “Besides, I would be right to say that. Not a soul knows the right way to handle a needle and thread. I suppose I’ll have to take up the position, myself.”

“You? Start a shop and make honest money?” You scoffed, fighting the urge to roll your eyes.

“Well why couldn’t I?” The familiar whiny tone you knew and loved began creeping back into his voice. “How much could a shop possibly cost? I would create marvels of woven artistry and you could do… well… everything else.” He finished certainly.

”That seems much too boring for someone like you, Astarion.” He couldn’t possibly be serious about this. Astarion? A shopkeep? He was rather skilled with fabrics, but would he be satisfied with such a simple life?

”Boring sounds… nice.” Astarion replied simply, his words becoming soft and serious. “Maybe sunlight isn’t worth watching the years roll by before me.”

Your breath stilled as you faced him.

“You… You want to settle down?” You asked.

Astarion scoffed, the humor settling back into his tone. “Settle down? I simply offered staying in one place for more than a few nights. You excite to easily, my darling.”

You laughed, a little breathlessly, thankful for the end of the serious moment. Even now, you couldn’t always wrap your mind around Astarion’s. Whether he was joking or now, what he really wanted in the end. It somehow always seemed a mystery right outside of your grasp.

”What would you say to that, however?” Astarion prodded. “If I told you that I wanted to… well, uhm… settle down?”

You paused for a moment, eyes narrowing as you searched his red irises.

“I would wonder if you’ve been replaced by a doppelgänger.” You replied accusingly.

“Well” he sighed, exasperated. “ Then write me down as a doppelgänger, I’d like to live in a little house with a shop downstairs filled with my own creations. To be horribly and utterly… domestic.”

You couldn’t help the wide smile that crawled across your face. The hope and excitement that filled your face.

”Oh don’t look at me like that!” Astarion complained, giving you a look of mock horror. “You look as if I just told you that I’ve given up a life of debauchery.”

You shrugged, grinning wickedly, “Is that not what you’re saying, Astarion?”

”No, of course not, darling.” He replied defiantly. “I’m just saying that I’m going to find a way to buy the next empty building we see and see how many people can be manipulated into buying my creations.”

”Lucky for you, Baldur’s Gate is within a day's travel. You may have to put your coin where your sinful mouth is.” You said with finality, truly thinking you were calling his bluff.”

“It’s settled then.” He smirked, leaning in to place a searing kiss against your unexpecting lips. You felt his arms snake further around you and… past you?

With difficulty, you willed yourself to pull away from the kiss, looking behind yourself questioningly. ”What are you-“ You paused, seeing the gold rimmed vase Astarion now had in his grasp.”

”It’s our something borrowed.” He shrugged. “For our new shop.”

You couldn’t hold back the almost overly dramatic eye roll. “First, love, that’s not borrowing, that’s stealing and two…” You felt your cheeks heat. “The phrase ‘something borrowed, something new’ is for wedding’s. Not for new shops and homes.”

”Oh, well… we should probably do that too.” Astarion said plainly, scooping you up to carry you to the bed not a stone’s toss away.

You gasped, hitting his chest gentle and putting on your best glare. “That is not how you propose to a woman you cur.”

Astarion chuckled as he placed you on the bed, climbing under the blankets with you. “You can lecture me about that tomorrow, darling. For now-“ He brushed his lips against yours, a sweet and loving kiss, “You simply must get some sleep. How else will we go shopping for your ‘something new’ tomorrow?”

You smiled as you leaned into his touch, snuggling against his chest. You wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of a response, he’d probably hear your excitement for the future through your words and not believe your chiding anyways. you were thankful for the ability to hide your face against him, your fingers tracing lazy circles along his chest,

If it weren’t for the gentle pale reds and purples that began to chase away the deep blue night, you could’ve stayed awake grinning like that forever.

#astarion x reader #baldur's gate 3 #baldurs gate astarion #astarion #astarion x you #astarion x female tav #astarion fanfic #astarion fic #astarion fluff #fluff #baldurs gate tav #astarion x dark urge #astarion x tav

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luveline · 7 months

Note

oK HALLOWEEN REQUESTS?! BET!!! GET THIS, STEVE WHO KEEPS HEARING SCARY NOISES IN HIS HOUSE AND HE CALLS READER (his gf) TO BE LIKE DUDE THERES A FUCKING GHOST and it’s a cat who got stuck in his attic or something 🥹

ty for requesting ♡ you and steve go ghost hunting. fem, 1.1k

Steve's waiting for you. Front door open, your boyfriend stands in his pyjamas with a leather jacket thrown over the top, hair ruffled but adorable, one pant leg tucked into his sock and the other dragging on the floor.

"Planning on a quick getaway?" you tease.

Steve hangs his head. "Whatever, just kiss me."

You love him even if you tease, using the door jam for extra height as you tip your head back to kiss him. With the way he kisses you can't be expected to abstain, hot little crescent moons of touch pressed softly to the seam of your lips, like the very beginning of a heavier kiss. It distracts you, and you forget why you're there.

"'M being haunted," he says against your mouth.

"Right," you remember. "You sounded hysterical on the phone. I thought maybe you'd been spiked." He rolls his eyes. "Hey, it happened once before!"

"Just come listen. It's a weird thumping."

"Maybe there's a guy living up there," you suggest, taking your shoes off by the door.

Steve takes your hand gently, his words much less coddling, "Sure, there's a man living in my attic. He comes out when I sleep."

"Well, don't scare yourself."

"It's fucking weird. It's definitely a spirit."

"Like that vampire you saw last Christmas."

Steve leads you upstairs to his room, where he encourages you to get comfortable. You take off your jacket and your bag. You'd brought pyjamas, figuring Steve's phone call to be an invitation rather than a real ghost hunt, but you'll save them for afterwards. He looks comfortable, and he smells nice as you drop your face into his arm.

"Listen," he says, bringing the forearm of the arm you're snuggling up to stroke whatever skin of yours he can reach, "it'll happen again. It's constant."

"It's maybe a burst pipe."

He shushes you, not unkindly. "Just listen."

On the phone, he'd been dramatic enough that you assumed this was a cute ploy to see you. You'd felt quite flattered —Steve doesn't seem to realise how much of a catch he is, so his flirting is over the top, and it really keeps the crush alive even while you're dating. There's a fucking ghost, dude, you need to come over right now.

Really? I thought your parents bought the house new?

Baby! Don't make me beg. And don't make me die alone.

You tilt your head to one side and listen hard for his promised ghost, an excuse to be in Steve's space more than anything. After a few dull seconds of silence, you turn forward and offer him a smirk. "You don't have to make stuff up for me to come over. I would've come to see you for no reason."

"And while I appreciate that," he says, his hand moving to your face, your cheek to his palm, "there's really, actually a ghost."

You look up in tandem as a strange sound echoes from above Steve's bedroom. It can't be a person, the weight doesn't shift loud nor close enough for footsteps, only groans in one place before creaking further toward the door.

"Oh," you say. Steve squeezes your cheek.

To get into Steve's attic you have to build a precarious ledge. He doesn't have a stepladder and the attic itself has no fold down, nor a ring pulley. "We don't go in there, the house is big enough already," he explains, lugging his TV stand under the attic opening. "This is barely tall enough to get up there."

"Maybe you can boost me?" you suggest, though the idea of being that far up doesn't sound enticing.

"No way, it's dark up there. If one of us is going to be killed by a ghost, it'll be me." He kisses your cheek and hops up onto the stand with impressive dexterity. You grit your teeth. "And besides, you don't like heights."

"Steve, is this a bad idea? What if it's an owl? It'll attack you."

"It's not an owl," —he grabs at the attic tile and pushes it in, grunting as he pulls the weight of his upper half inside with it— "it's a ghost, beautiful." His legs disappear into the attic. You can hardly see him. "We should've found a flashlight."

"I can go look?"

"I'll be fine, probably."

"Stay away from the hole! If you fall and break your back I'll have to work two jobs and someone else will have to give you sponge baths–"

"Why do you actually sound worried? I'm not going to fa– Holy fuck!"

A huge thunk. You huff out a worried exhale, asking, "Are you okay? Stevie?" as you climb onto the TV stand and peer into the dark attic.

"I'm okay! I'm gonna come back, don't flinch." His face appears in the opening. "I tripped over something. It's weird, you won't believe me, but the floor is wet in here. There must be a leak in the roof."

"Be careful, Steve, please," you murmur.

Steve leans down in the gap to kiss your frown. "Sorry. I'm being careful. Could you bring me some towels? I'm gonna clean this up."

You throw him a couple of towels from his laundry room like you're shooting shoddy hoops, laughing at his worse catching. The floor moans as he cleans, but there doesn't seem to be any ghost now that he's investigating. In fact, the house is very, very quiet.

"Did you hear that?" Steve asks.

You shiver. "Don't mess around!" you call, though you're not mad. "You're giving me goosebumps."

Steve goes quiet for a little while. You chew on your lip, consider standing on the TV stand again to climb in after him, but ultimately stand frozen under the gap, waiting.

He says something too quiet to hear.

"What?" you ask.

Your response comes unexpectedly, a little white face held by two bigger hands from the ceiling, and a frankly earth-shattering yowl.

"Look! It's a cat!"

"I can see."

"Take him, take him!"

You take the cat even as he hisses at you, holding his claws as far from you as you can manage. Steve huffs and puffs as he slides his way down, the TV stand wobbling ever so slightly as he closes the attic and hops down onto the floor.

"He's aggressive," you say, wincing as the cat hisses again. "How big was the leak? I mean, how did he get up there?"

"I told you already," Steve says, attempting to pet the cat and dodging a well-aimed claw, "he's a ghost."

"Very funny, H. Now, um, what are we gonna do with him?"

"...I was hoping you'd know."

"I guess you have a pet now. Congrats, babe."

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington #steve harrington fic #steve harrington blurb #steve harrington drabble #stranger things x reader #stranger things fic #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fanfiction #stranger things #stranger things 4

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asumofwords · 9 months

Text

The Sublet - Roommate!AU

Warnings: She/her pronouns, slow burn, angst. Tags will be added as the fic goes along.

Pairings: Modern!Aemond x Reader

Summary: Living with Helaena Targaryen was one of the best decisions you had ever made. Meeting at university, the two of you became thick as thieves and quickly best friends, moving into a flat together. But what will happen when Helaena has to leave, and her quiet, brooding, brother moves in?

Notes: Well hello there my babies, hehe here is the little mini series I have begun for a modern!Aemond roommate AU. I'm super excited to explore this side of things as I have mostly been putting my focus into SFA. Please let me know if you want to be added to the taglist! Hehe, slowish burn too <3 Enjoy!

Chapter 1: Christmas Beetle

The key scratched against the metal of the lock, your hand turning it as you opened the door to your flat, the smell of cooking curling around you as you stepped inside. From the kitchen you could hear your roommate Helaena humming to the music that played out of your speaker.

“Hel!” You called out, dropping your keys into the dish by the door, toeing your shoes off as you moved inside the apartment.

“In here!” Helaena sang back.

You moved your way down the hall, dropping your bag on the dining room table as you moved towards the kitchen.

Helaena stood barefooted in a singlet and pair of matching underwear. Her long silver hair piled atop her head, held together by a large butterfly clip.

“Whatcha cooking, good looking?” You asked, walking up behind Helaena who reached out to turn down the speaker that was currently playing Lana Del Reys ‘West Coast’.

Helaena turned her head, small silver butterfly earrings dangling from her ears, “Bolognese!”

The room smelt of cooking onion and tomato, and you breathed in deeply as she reached forward to put in some cut up carrots and celery inside of the ceramic large pot.

“Yum. God I love you.” You sighed, leaning back against the counter as you watched her stir in the ingredients, “What did I do to deserve you?”

“Absolutely nothing.” She grinned, reaching forward for the salt, sprinkling it atop, “Who else would feed you if I didn’t?”

“Hey! I can cook.” You frowned.

Helaena laughed loudly, “Mi Goreng doesn’t count.”

“I’ll have you know I can cook more than that.” You crossed your arms around your chest as you kicked a foot out to hit her shin softly.

Helaena jumped back, “Don’t be mean to the chef or you won’t get anything.”

You bowed, arm out in a dramatic flair, “Apologies, Your Grace.”

“Cut it out.” She pouted, “How was work?”

Hopping up on the counter, you groaned, “Don’t get me started. Larys was on my ass the whole day. Remind me why I work there again?”

“Because you need the money, and I got you the job.”

“It wasn’t just you that got me the job.” You grunted, “I have a great resume.”

“Of course you do.”

Tossing your head back against the cabinets you looks at the cream ceiling, “Ugh, how do you deal with Larys at all? He’s such a fucking creep. I swear he is always looking at me with those beady little eyes. You know the only time he has ever been nice to me was when he complimented my new shoes.” You scrunched your nose up at the thought.

Your boss Larys Strong was a man who made your skin crawl. Lanky, with a crooked build, the brunette man always had a way of getting under your skin, and you could always feel his eyes on you when you worked in the office. He hovered around other workers, asking personal questions and prying into everyone else’s personal lives, and yet you knew next to nothing about the man. A complete energy vampire.

“I’m sure he’s not that bad. Mum hasn’t said anything about him and she works with him.” Helaena pointed out, bringing the spoon to her lips to try to sauce. She hummed loudly as she dipped it again, hand beneath it as she offered you a try.

You leant forward blowing on the spoon softly as steamed poured off of it, “Yeah, but your mum isn’t the most observant person, Hel.” You sucked the sauce into your mouth, eyes closing as you moaned loudly, “Oh my god. This is heaven. If you weren’t my best friend I would marry you.”

Helaena blushed and took the spoon back from you, swatting your thigh on the bench, “That ship has sailed.”

You laughed loudly at the memory, “How was I supposed to know you were hitting on me? You said I looked like a Christmas beetle.”

“Christmas beetles are beautiful.” Helaena said indignantly, “They have many different colours and shades, and in the sun they glow.”

“Don’t you go soft on me, Hely.” You teased, kicking your legs against the cabinet with a thunk, “Besides, you can’t butter me up with this home cooked meal no matter how good it is. I can’t believe you’re leaving me here alone.” You whined, throwing your head back, “And on break too!”

“Life is a cruel mistress.” She mocked you, “You won’t even notice I’m gone." A pale hand waved itself at you in the air in dismissal, "It’s only for the month, maybe even less than that. You know I have to go see Daeron, he’s been studying at Old Town all by himself, the poor thing.”

“Yeah well, not all of us can get into the prestigious Old Town University.” You huffed, “And I will notice you’re gone, who will cook me dinner?”

“I thought you said you could cook.”

“Hel, you wound me.” You grabbed the front of your shirt above your heart dramatically.

Helaena snorted, “Suck it up. Besides, my brother is going to sublet the room for the month so you won’t be alone.”

“Hel,” You whispered, head tilted in uncertainty, “Please don’t tell me Aegon is moving in. I love you, you know this, but your brother is a sex pest. Last time he came over he called me a Gazelle.”

“A Gazelle?”

“Said I have long legs.” You grimaced.

“Ugh. Gross. He is such a manwhore.” You hummed in agreement as Helaena scrunched her face up, mouth open in disgust, “But no, Aemond is going to sublet the room.”

“Hel, that isn’t any better. Aemond?” You began, leaning forward as you looked at her uneasily, “'Can’t pry a word out of the man', Aemond? 'Messy break up with his crazy ex', Aemond? Hel are you punishing me?”

“Be nice.” She slapped your arm, adding fresh basil into the pot that simmered gently, “Aemond is sweet once you get to know him. He’s just shy.”

“The last time I spoke to him, I asked him how his day was and he just hummed at me. He hummed.”

Helaena laughed.

“It’s not funny, Hel! Who the hell just hums like that?”

A small laugh floated through her nose, “Look, Aemond was the only one I could get to sublet the room in such short notice. Especially someone I trust. Plus, he needs to get away from Harrenhal and move back to Kings Landing. Alys has really done a number on him, and I think if he gets some time away from her he will see it’s better that way.”

“Can't you ask your mum to cover the rent? You’re not exactly scraping by.”

The Targaryens were richer than most, descended from ancient royalty, even owning an island called Dragonstone, a short boat ride away from shore, where a large fortress sat atop. Helaena would sometimes go for the summer to see her cousins, and had even taken you one year.

“I don’t want anything to do with the family money. When I moved out, I made a promise to myself that I would make it on my own.”

You sighed, smiling at your best friend. She really was one of a kind, willing to go above and beyond for her friends and not freeloading from her generational wealth like her brothers did, “You’re a good person, Hel. But you’re putting my head on the chopping block.”

“Mm.”

“Not you too.” You whined.

“Better get used to it," She grinned, enjoying your distress, "Aemond will be moving into my room at the end of the week. So I expect you to behave yourself while I’m away and be nice to him.”

You gasped in mock offence, “I’m always nice!”

Helaena gave you a pointed look.

“Okay, well fine. I’ll be on my best behaviour for you.” You hopped off the counter, and put a hand on your chest and one in the air, “Scouts honour.”

“You weren’t a scout.”

“Never too late.” You grinned.

Helaena scrunched her nose at you, “You’re so annoying. Go shower, you stink.”

“I do not!” You said indignantly, turning your head to your shoulder to smell yourself.

“Well, there’s too many chefs in the kitchen and I want to have an everything shower tonight.”

You opened your mouth in mock surprise as you looked at her, a soft gasp leaving your lips. You crossed your arms over your chest as you looked at your best friend, “And who are you shaving for?” You wiggled your eyebrows at her.

Helaena blushed, “No one.”

“No.” You said in disbelief.

“Y/n-“

“Please tell me you’re not.”

Silence.

“Are you seeing Sara again?”

Helaena looked so sheepish as she went back to stirring the dinner, you moved to stand behind her, resting your head on her shin from behind as you watched her cook, “Hel, what are you hiding from me?”

“Go away, you big gnat.”

“I thought I was a Christmas beetle?”

“I’ve changed my mind. Plus you’re one to talk, I saw Cregan’s car out the front the other day as I left for work.” Helaena snipped, flustered and cheeks completely red. Her neck speckled with a blush that rose up from her chest.

“Glass houses. Besides, you can’t say the Starks aren’t scrummy.” You pinched her side and moved away from the kitchen, “I’m going to shower, and I’ll make sure to leave you some hot water so when Sara comes over tonight you’ll be all squeaky clean.” You teased.

“Shut it!”

The next morning you rose early to make yourself a cup of tea, you bumping into Sara on her way out of the house. The brunette was moving quickly out the door, hair knotted at the back of her head and lips blushed.

“Morning Sara.” You greeted her as she walked past you on the lounge, clearly not expecting to see you. You lifted your mug of tea up towards her in greeting and watched as her cheeks blushed a deeper red than the top she was wearing.

“Morning.” She responded, “Sorry, I’ve got an early class to get to.”

“Its Saturday.”

“Uh-” The Stark stuttered.

“And it’s break.”

“Oh, shut up." She smirked, "Tell my brother I said 'hi.'” Smile pulling downwards on her lips playfully.

You laughed softly in the quiet of the room, and bid her a goodbye.

Sara and Helaena had been on and off for longer than you had known Helaena, and was actually how you met Cregan. Sara had set it up after a night of drinking together, and Helaena had only encouraged you to ‘let your freak fly’.

Cregan was amazing. Tall, kind, smart and with a handsomeness that only Northerners had, with these dark brown eyes that you could get lost in.

But in saying that, you weren’t compatible in anything other than sex or casual friendship. You had been sleeping together for a few months when he wanted more, and you weren’t ready for that. And so you had ended the little tryst that you had, and parted on good terms. Amicable terms.

For a while, the two of you hadn’t spoken, letting Cregan have space from you to process what had happened, but eventually you had received a text to meet up for a coffee one day, and decided you were better off being friends.

Who fucked.

Occasionally.

Helaena exited her room shortly after, her silver hair messy and wearing an oversized t-shirt that hung to her mid thighs, a large centipede with a hat on the front.

“Good morning sleepy head.” You sang to her, watching as she rubbed her eyes with the back of her hand.

“Why are you up so early?” She grumbled, clearly not having gotten much sleep.

“There’s an antique market down in the square and I thought we could go and get some trinkets.” You smiled, watching as her eyes came alight.

“Trinketville.” She spoke in a high pitched voice.

“Yup!”

Shuffling her feet towards you, she leant over the back of the couch, “When does it start?”

“Started around 7.” You grabbed your phone to look at the screen, “It’s only 8:40, so if you quickly get dressed I can drive us down and get us a park.”

“Yay!” Helaena chirped, spinning back into her room suddenly alive.

As she walked away you called out to her, “Saw Sara sneak out.”

“Huh?” Helaena yelled back.

“I saw Sara this morning!”

Helaena stuck her head out from the door, hiding her naked body behind its frame, cheeks tinged pink, “Please don’t tell me you said anything.” She winced.

“I just said good morning.” You said coyly, watching as Helaena sighed in exacerbation before going back into her room.

“You know,” You called out, standing to put your mug in the dishwasher, “You don’t have to hide her in your room. I don’t hide Cregan.”

Helaena stepped out wearing a pair of pale denim overalls, and a soft yellow shirt underneath, socks and doc martins in hand, “Yeah well, you haven’t dated Cregan.”

“I mean we kind of did.” You shrugged, leaning against the side of the couch as she sat at the small dining table to put her shoes and socks on.

“Fucking him on the couch doesn’t count as dating.”

It was your time to blush, “Close enough.”

Helaena snorted, lacing up her boots, “Aren’t you going to get dressed?” She eyed you up and down, one brow raised.

You looked down at yourself. You were in an old busted t-shirt which had far too many holes to make it physically sound, and beneath you wore some old track pants and slides.

“Whats wrong with what I’m wearing?” You asked, offence in your tone.

“What’s right with it?” Helaena grimaced, “Go get actually dressed you slob. What if there’s someone cute at the markets?”

“I will have no time for cuties as I will be too lost in the joys of finding the ultimate trinkets for my collection.” You sniffed, raising your chin in defiance.

“Borderline hoarding at this point.”

You gasped, “Hey! Says you Miss Insects.”

“Go get dressed,” Helaena insisted leaving no room for argument, “Then we will head out. Do you think they’ll have coffee?”

You laughed, “Yeah, there should be a truck.”

When you were dressed and ready, you drove yourself and Helaena down to the markets, already full of people and bursting with life.

Many people brought their dogs with them and to your delight, an old man people called Maester Orwyle was seen walking his white Persian cat inside of a pram. The cat sat with her paws crossed in front of her as she watched everyone walking past, the occasional hiss given to the dogs that passed her or children who got too close.

Helaena giggled loudly as you both passed it, moving to look at another antique jewellery stand, Helaena’s eyes immediately spotting a small, gold, dragonfly pin. Its wings had emeralds on its tips and a larger one as its head.

She held the pin in her hand, uncertain if she should get it or not, the old man behind the table trying to sell it to her.

“It’s real gold, 14 karats. Real emeralds too. A pretty broach for a pretty girl.”

Helaena smiled politely though you knew she wished to move away.

“Come on Hel, when will you ever find something like that again?” You encouraged her. Her lip was caught between her teeth as she thought.

Looking up at the greying man behind the table, you asked for the price, “How much?”

“$70.” The man replied.

Helaena moved to put the pin back down, “It’s too expensive.” She said quietly.

“Nonsense.” You whispered back. “I’ll give you forty for it.” You looked at the man.

“Forty is too low. I’ll do sixty.”

“Fifty.” You counted.

“Y/n.” Helaena hissed.

The old man hummed as he look at the two of you before he nodded, “Fifty then.”

You looked at Helaena triumphantly and watched as she sheepishly gave the man the money, clutching the pin in her hand as the two of you walked away.

“I hate when you do that. It's so embarrassing. You’re like my grandpa.”

“Did you just compare me to Otto?” You grimaced, remembering your interactions with the stiff older man. He was rather cold, and barely spoke a word to you unless to correct you, but he would brighten up when speaking to Helaena considerably.

“You leave him alone, he’s old.”

You hummed in response.

“You’ll get along with Aemond just fine if you keep that up.” Helaena teased and you stuck your tongue out at her, moving to look at some old books.

You picked up an old heavy leather book, which looked to have been buried in dust. You opened the cover gently and looked at the front page. Your eyes widened.

“Helaena!” You hissed, grabbing her to your side as you looked down at the book in your hand, “This is a First Edition.” You quietly whispered.

“Looks like the worst edition.” She giggled and you elbowed her in the side.

“Seriously Hel, these are so hard to come across! It’s ‘The Lovers of Queen Nymeria’ too, this is like old old.” You explained, excitement racing through your veins, “These are seriously hard to get a hold of!”

“God, you and Aemond are the same. I swear my dad had that in his library.”

You snorted, “Yeah, well, not all of us come from royalty, Hel. I come from a long line of peasants, which I-“

“Oh, cut it out.” She griped.

You let yourself laugh, holding the book in your hands in wonder, “They’re probably asking for hundreds for this. God, I can’t believe I’m even able to touch it right now!”

Helaena looked up at the young man who had the stall, “Excuse me, could you please tell us the price of this book?”

“Hel, it’ll be way out of my price range.” You sighed quietly.

The man turned and came over, looking at the book in your hands, “I’ll give it to you for $20.” He said with disinterest, looking at the worn cover.

“$20?!” You said in disbelief, shock crawling through you.

“We’ll take it!” Helaena responded quickly, handing he man $20 from her small silver purse.

“Hel, I’m paying for it.”

“Nope!” She popped the ‘p’ as you moved away, holding the book in your hands in shock. “This is my gift to you, plus you saved me the money for the pin, aaaand you can take it as me buttering you up because mumboughtmeanearlierflight.” The last part of her sentance was speedily blurted as she turned to look at you, offering you a remorseful smile.

“You bitch.” You narrowed your eyes at her, “You’re lucky I love you.”

You walked side by side, looking at the rest of the stalls, finding some fun little things before the two of you decided to go home, exhausted from walking around in the hot sun for hours.

When you arrived back at the apartment, Helaena slumped onto the couch the two of you had found on the street years back. It was a light brown velvet, with dark wood detailing. An absolute classic.

The silver haired girl sighed, tugging her bag onto her lap as she begun to line up her buys of the day on the table.

You joined her, placing your book on the table followed by a small, vintage, golden mirror and a large candle holder for your room. Helaena had bought her pin, a small blue skirt with little green beetles on it, as well as a large framed Luna Moth.

You let your head drop to her shoulder, “I’m going to miss you.” You whined, tapping your head onto the bone of her shoulder.

“You big baby, I’ll be back in no time.”

“But you’re leaving me on breaaaak. What about all the hotties we were going to pick up at the bars?”

Helaena laughed loudly as she rested her head against the top of yours, “Plenty of time to do that when I get back.”

You grunted, “Don’t act like you didn’t tell me you are leaving earlier. You said end of the week.” You pulled away and looked at her with your eyes narrowed, “When are you leaving now?”

“Tomorrow.” Helaena sighed.

“Tomorrow?! What!”

Helaena began to fiddle with her hands in her lap, her pale fingers picking at the skin at her nails. You watched as Helaena became quiet, shut in, and a sudden wave of anxiety moved through you.

“Hel, what’s wrong? Has Sara done something?” You questioned, head dipping to try and catch her eyes.

“Dads sick.”

Your brows furrowed as you looked at her, “Has he gotten worse?” You asked softly.

Helaena’s dad had been sick for a long time, when you had met her she was worried, but knew there was nothing that she could do. Her visits to her family home back then were frequent, but as time went on, her visits became less, and she had assured you that his team of carers and her mother could handle it.

“It’s not good.”

“I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay,” She gave you a sad smile, “It was going to happen one day or another. Mum wants us to go back to see them at the Keep, so I’m going to Daeron’s to get him and we will go together.”

“But what about Aemond? Will he be going with you?”

Helaena let out a quiet breath, “Dad doesn’t have the best relationship with Aem and Egg. Pretty sure my sister will be at the Keep with my nephews, and well,” She paused, and you knew why, “You know Aem doesn’t have a good relationship with them.”

You remembered the day Helaena had told you about Aemond’s fight with Lucerys when they were kids and the accident. You had felt terrible hearing the news, but now understood why tensions in the family were so strained. Not to mention that Helaena’s sister Rhaenyra, from his first marriage, was largely favoured over his other three children.

But from all accounts that Helaena had told you, Rhaenyra was a lovely woman, and incredibly kind to her.

You grabbed Helaena’s hand and held it, “Let me know if you need me to come, yeah? Or need anything of me. I mean anything. You need me, I’ll be there.”

Helaena gave you a gentle smile as she nodded, “Thanks, but I’ll be okay. Maybe you could come to the Keep and stay a week or something once I'm settled.”

“Will that hunky Criston be there?” You waggled your eyebrows at her.

Helaena's face morphed into disgust, “Ewww. I don’t see what you see in him.”

“What? He’s hot, plus him being your mums bodyguard makes it so much hotter.”

“He’s not her bodyguard.” Helaena argued.

“Sure, then he just follows her around like a lost puppy and is paid to look pretty. Anyhow, when is Aemond coming since you go tomorrow?” You rested your head back against her shoulder, fiddling with her hand in her lap as you wiggled her fingers with yours.

“He said he’d be driving his old chevy Vhagar in, so who knows how long that will take. If it doesn’t break down on the way.” Helaena snickered.

Thanks so much for reading along with me, if you wish to be added to the tag list please let me know :) Likes and reblogs are greatly appreciated ! Enjoy <3

Taglist:

@mrstargayen09 @iamavailablesstuff @malfoytargaryen @hogwarts1207 @diannnnsss

Bold is who I cannot tag

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jaebeomsbitch · 1 day

Text

Not Another Werewolf Romance Story (E.M.)

Summary: Eddie finds you reading a werewolf romance book in secret and decides to make your fantasies come to life.

Warnings: MINORS DNI, kissing, fingering, vibrator, nsfw, cursing

A/N: I wrote this so long ago in the middle of the night. Not edited. Sorry for being gone so long, thanks for the like hundred new followers while I’ve been gone.

You lay in bed with a book in your hand as Eddie brushes his teeth in the bathroom. The faint sounds of the water running fill the bedroom as you read quietly. You push your reading glasses up higher on the bridge of your nose as you become more engrossed with the story. Your eyes glued to the page missing your boyfriend walking into the bedroom.

It isn’t until he presses a wet kiss to your cheek that you snap out of it. Your eyes widen slightly as you close the book.

“What’re you reading, baby?” He asks, pulling the duvet back.

“Nothing too interesting” you say trying to sound nonchalant as you place the book on your nightstand.

“Oh really, s’that why your nose was buried in it?” He asks, eyebrow quirked.

He leans over to see the cover, playfully tugging on a lock of your hair. "Let me guess, another one of those sappy vampire romance novels?"

“No!” You protest, cheeks flushed pink. Fuck wrong answer. You see the immediate way his eyes sparkle mischievously.

"Then what is it? Something naughty I need to know about?" He asks with that stupid smug smile on his face.

“Something ‘naughty?’ What are you eighty?” You scoff trying to play it off, you try to be stealthy as you press your thighs together underneath the sheets. Trying to hide how wet you got from the book.

Eddie raises an eyebrow and tilts his head, his gaze lingering on your closed book. "Now you've piqued my interest," he says, crossing his arms over his tattooed chest.

“How, I haven’t said anything!” You protest again trying to get him to drop it.

Eddie chuckles and climbs onto the bed beside you, wrapping his arm around your waist and pulling you close. "Well, you're blushing like a school girl caught with her first Playboy," he teases, nuzzling against your temple. You whine with shyness, not wanting to open this part of yourself up to your boyfriend yet. Unfortunately for you Eddie’s fingers grab the book quickly, yanking it off your nightstand.

Eddie's fingers trace the spine of the book curiously, feeling its weight before flipping it open to the page you were last reading. You gasp trying to grab it out of his hand but Eddie lifts the book up.

“Oh God,” you groan covering your reddened face as Eddie reads the werewolf romance you picked up at the bookstore.

“His strong hands grab my thighs, it sends a shiver down my spine. All I can think about is having his knot inside me” Eddie’s voice drops low and husky as he begins to read aloud. You feel like you could cry at the humiliation.

Eddie laughs harder now, finding your discomfort endearing as he looks down at the page with mock seriousness in his eyes. He finally stops reading and sets the book aside. Your cheeks are bright red along with your neck and the tips of your ears. It’s not often Eddie sees you this embarrassed, you usually have some sarcastic remark to make except when it comes to sex. He never knew something like that would get you horny either, it seems so… juvenile?

Eddie looks over at you with an amused expression. "A werewolf romance, huh?" He says before leaning in to press a soft kiss against your temple. "It's cute."

You stay quiet feeling humiliated beyond belief it’s like he just read your dairy out loud. There’s something very intimate about him knowing this other side of you, one that you’ve tried to keep hidden from him. There’s a certain shame that comes with opening your sexual side to your boyfriend.

Noticing your discomfort, Eddie pulls you closer and whispers in your ear, "You don't have to be ashamed, baby. I love knowing what gets you going". He plants small kisses along your jawline, hoping to ease the tension. You stay quiet, squeezing the hem of the negligee you’ve just become comfortable wearing around him.

He nibbles on your earlobe softly, his breath warm against your skin. "Do you want me to keep reading?"

“Not if you’re gonna keep making fun of me” you murmur, eyes trained on your lap.

Eddie rolls his eyes playfully and snuggles into you further, resting his hand on your hip. "Okay, okay, no more teasing," he assures you, planting another gentle kiss on your cheek. You lean back against the headboard your body tense with mortification.

Eddie watches you closely, sensing your tension. He realizes he might've taken the teasing too far. He strokes your hair softly. "Come here, sweetheart." He pulls you into his lap and wraps his arms securely around you.You bury your face in his neck trying to hide from him, maybe if you hide you’ll disappear into him.

“Princess," Eddie coos, nudging your chin up with his finger so he can look into your big doe eyes. "I didn't mean to make you feel bad. You know I love you, right? And everything that makes you happy." He kisses your forehead tenderly.

You sag against his chest, your knees digging deeper into the mattress on either side of his hips. Eddie caresses your cheek softly, trying to wipe away any remaining embarrassment. "Why don't you tell me what happened in the story that had you so turned on? Maybe I can make it better..."

“That’d be even more humiliating” you groan.

Eddie looks at you, his expression softening. He brushes your hair out of your face and kisses the tip of your nose. "Alright, how about this...I'll turn off the lights and hold you while you read it to me?" He offers, running his thumb in circles on your back.

You swallow hard, he’s already seen it. There’s no hiding from what he saw, it’ll only lead him to more questions or to think something bad about you and it terrifies you so you begrudgingly murmur “okay.”

Eddie turns off the bedside lamp, plunging the room into darkness save for the dim glow of streetlights filtering through the window. He adjusts his position so you're comfortably sitting between his legs, your back pressed against his chest. You try and relax against him but you feel so high strung.

Saliva pools in your mouth as you grab the book, cracking it open to the last page you were on. You can barely see the words with the dim light coming from the window. You clear your throat, eyes scanning the page, face flushing hot instantly. Eddie squeezes your waist trying to reassure you and get you to loosen up.

“Take your time, Princess,” he encourages, pressing a soft kiss on your hair. “I’m right here with you.”

You swallow your spit

“H-he… he splays her out on the bed, her hair fanned out on the pillow as his lips press against her throat. It’s been so long since he’s shared a bed with a woman much less his mate. She’s beautiful better than anything that he could imagine. Her smell, fuck her smell is addicting. He can practically taste the arousal pooling between her legs. He aches to claim her, fill her with pups” your voice trembles shyly as you read, your face flushing with more heat.

Eddie’s heart races hearing you describe something so intimate, not accustomed to it yet but he fucking loves it. He resonates with the book, you’re the most gorgeous creature he’s ever seen, he doesn’t believe in a God but everyday he prays to whatever is out there thanking them for bringing you to him.

He grips the fabric of the nightgown between your thighs gently. "Keep going, baby," he rasps out, his breath hot against your ear.

Your breath hitches, fingers shifting in the book before it falls.

“H-he buries his face in h-her…” you stop feeling a wave of discomfort but Eddie reassuringly squeezes your thigh.

“C-cunt,” you squeak, your body sets ablaze.

“-Her panties soaked all the way through. She probably soaked through her jeans if he was paying attention. He breathes her musk in deeply, it sends a shiver down her spine as she moans. Her fingers curl around the bedsheets, she’s too shy to ask him what she wants but he can sense it. His tongue darts out licking a thick stripe over the cotton of her panties” your voice grows more steady as you read to Eddie. He realizes how closely the two of you resemble these characters… well, besides the lycan part.

Eddie’s fingers move to lightly graze the inside of your thigh, your breath catches in your throat as his fingers brush against your soaked panties. You gasp softly, your back pressing harder into his chest while flip the page.

“He teases her with his tongue, the tip just grazing over her slit nowhere near the spot that’ll have her seeing stars” you say, voice trembling as his hand moves under the waistband of your panties, cupping your sex. You moan, toes digging into the mattress. You’re not sure if you’re supposed to continue or not, your mind in a tizzy.

“His fingers finally move the fabric to the side, he growls as he sees her glistening pussy. ‘Mine’ he growls.” You continue reading.

Eddie can't resist anymore. His middle finger dipping between your folds, sliding easily through your slick before circling your clit lightly.

“F-fuck” your grip on the book slacks as your head falls back on his shoulder.

He keeps his movements slow and deliberate, matching the pace of the story unfolding in front of him. He leans forward, whispering into your ear, "Your pussy is so wet for me, baby."

“Fuck,” you groan, it’s the only word you can manage to grasp.

He nuzzles into your neck, inhaling deeply, savoring the scent of your skin. He slips a second finger into your pussy, curling it to find your g-spot.

You gasp, the book falling from your delicate fingers onto the mattress, you moan, your back digging deeper into his chest. He removes his hand from your pussy and picks up the book, flipping to the next passage. "Continue," he urges softly in your ear.

You whine when he stops, your thighs already trembling. Eddie's heart skips a beat at the sound of your needy sounds. He guides your hand back to the book, encouraging you to continue reading. "Go on, my little vixen," he says seductively. If this was any other context you’d find it cringy but there’s something so fucking hot about his whisper against your ear.

You breathe heavily as you look down, grabbing the book from Eddie in one hand. You thumb and pinky holding it open.

“His tongue darts out, he moans as he tastes his mate for the first time. It’s like something inside of him snaps, he buries his face in her cunt. Tongue moving wildly as he switches from tongue fucking her to sucking on her clit. Her moans fill the room, her nails digging into her palms as she scents the room with her pheromones” you read.

Eddie’s fingers slip back inside of you, his thick digits thrust in and out, restricted by the fabric of your underwear. His thumb finds its way to your clit, moving in tandem. You feel like you could just turn into a pile of mush, already turned stupid by his fingers alone.

“Oh fuck!” You keen, fingers gripping the book harder.

“Her voice gets louder and it’s like music to his ears. He can’t wait to hear what symphonies she’ll create when he’s fucking her” you heave for breath like you’ve just ran a marathon.

Eddie's fingers pick up speed, mirroring the action in the story. "You're doing so good, Princess," he praises, nipping at your earlobe.

“Oh God,” you moan.

He reaches for the nightstand drawer and fishes out a vibrator, placing it against your clit as his fingers continue to work your sopping pussy. The squelch of your cunt filling the room along with the hum of the vibrator.

“Honey” you let out a high pitched shriek.

Eddie whispers encouragement in your ear, "Read more for me, baby."

You hiss in protest but Eddie quickly shuts off the vibrator. You practically sob when he stops, struggling to catch your breath. You were so fucking close to coming already you feel the tendrils of your lost orgasm loosening their grip on you as the seconds tick by.

You finally look down, your voice strained as you read on “Her pussy clamps around his tongue, his thumb rubs over her sensitive nub quickly. Golden eyes trained on every little detail of her face trying to memorize her pleasure. He wants to burn the memory into his brain and never forget it. She’s the hottest thing he’s ever seen especially when she’s screaming his name. Her back arched beautifully as she twitches and squeezes his tongue coming all over his face with a wail”

He turns the vibrator on again with a click, holding it firmly against your clit. He’s almost desperate to hear your moans as you come on his fingers.

“Fuck— ” you let out a strangled cry, you can feel the intense vibration deep inside the root of your clit. Eddie’s doesn’t let you think, his fingers entering you again but this time he shows no mercy. His fingers curl pressing into the spot he’s found since the first time he fingered you.

You let at a garbled mess of desperate filthy moans. His lips press to your ear whispering “look at you taking me so well, Princess. You think ‘bout me knotting you, huh? Touch this pretty little pussy thinking bout me fucking you until you were locked together, yeah?”

You choke on your spit, your boyfriend has whispered dirty things in your ear before but nothing like this.

“Yes— yes, yes, yes,” you chant

“Wanna be stuffed with your cum again and again and again,” your tongue loose with the amount of pleasure Eddie’s giving you. It means so much that this man is willing to play into your stupid fantasies. You grip onto his wrist scared he’ll pull away again. You moan in a way he’s never heard before, it’s loud and wailing, it’s purely you. It’s you running on instinct.

"Cum for me, princess," Eddie whispers against your ear, pinching your clit between two of his fingers and slamming his fingers deep inside her pussy, curling them in a come-hither motion.

“Fuck- ohh fuck” you moan, your head falls back on his shoulder , hips rolling into his fingers, hands digging into his skin. You wheeze for air as your skull digs into his shoulder, pussy fluttering around his fingers pulling them in deeper and squeezing. It isn’t until his teeth press into the juncture between your shoulder and neck that you practically scream. Coming on his hands making a mess of the vibrator, thighs shaking as you babble nonsense.

He shuts the vibrator off when you whine, pulling your sensitive clit away, and throws it somewhere in the bed. His tongue traces the indent he’s left of your skin.

“You’re crazy” you rasp

“But you fucking love it,” he grins against your neck pressing a soft kiss there.

#eddie munson #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x fem!reader smut #Eddie Munson is a dickhead #eddie munson x female character #eddie munson brainrot #stranger things smut #eddie munson x y/n #werewolf romance #idk how to tag this #unedited #eddie munson drabble #smut #eddie munson / reader #Eddie Munson / you

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your-nanas-house · 5 months

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"Mine, darling"

◇ Pairing: Mob!Tom Riddle Sr X waitress!Reader

◇ Warnings: smut, Riddle, waitress and prostitute, age gap (both off age)

◇ Summary: Tom Riddle Sr attends an important meeting in a small bistro and takes a moment to appreciate the place or rather the worker.

◇ Note: Sorry for the mistakes and the English. Tom Riddle Sr is Tom Riddle's muggle father. @veroriddle this was my baby's idea, I made it an imagine...I hope you don't mind.

His warm and firm palm pressed more and more on your back, a small moan almost whine came out of your lips bruised by the previously exchanged kisses.

When you entered the bistro where you worked that day you expected a quiet evening, maybe some unpleasant and rude customers but you certainly didn't expect to meet one of the customers— from your second job, which you wanted to remain secret.

That evening, you put on your usual uniform which consisted of a shirt partly covered by a vest and a miniskirt that showed enough but not too much. Your hair were pulled up and the pen was held by your lips as you walked to the new costumers that walked in, to take just their orders— thing that changed as soon as you met those infamous light eyes that stared at yours before looking you up and down in silence.

It was enough, you were already melting and he just needed to find a moment to get you alone to have you like he wanted— after waiting and staring at the other men looking and flirting with you.

It passed nearly 20 minutes and your body was pressed against the sink of the bathroom, his eyes kept staring at yours as he gripped your hair in a tight grip to prevent your head to drop

"Always so thigh for me, darling" the man grunted, his free hand holding your hips in a tight grip as he slammed his cock back inside your soaked hole "Was thinking—" he groaned softly against your hear, continuing to talk even if your moans kept interrupting him "—about you".

You just hummed, not really listening to what the man, you learned was called Tom, was saying too lost in your own pleasure and the way he was thrusting mercifully in you while still kissing your bare back in a kind of loving and tender way

"Fuck, darling, taking it so good" Tom praised as he slowly reached his climax, his big hand with slender fingers moved from your hair down to your clit, making sure to make you you cum first so he could feel your abused walls clench around his stiff lenght— before shooting his load inside of you and help you put your clothes back on, just like he did while you adjusted your hair and makeup.

Your back was still facing Tom, he moved closer again when he fixed his suit just to kiss your cheek and place a £ 100 bank note on the dry sink, squeezing your ass as he whispered his goodbye and a small promise before leaving the bathroom.

You just took the money, your face flushed as you put them in your bra, and walked out of that room as well to continue your shift there.

Taglist:

@gabile18 , @mrsfullbuster500 , @rex-ray , @elizamalfoyy, @eovjjj , @wife-of-magic-monkeys , @jeremiah-va1eska , @gothamchic16, @rabbiteggz , @dieg0brandos-wife , @rottenecstasy , @lazyexcuse , @teh-vampire-bunny , @lobotomy-lover , @slasher-smasher , @sleepycreativewriter

#tom riddle fic #tom riddle fanfiction #tom riddle sr #tom riddle sr x you #tom riddle sr x reader #tom riddle sr x y/n #tom riddle smut #tom riddle #tom riddle imagine #tom riddle x you #tom riddle x reader #tom riddle x y/n

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from-the-clouds · 1 year

Text

bad liars (savior complex ii) - joel miller x f!reader

part one | masterlist | song inspo |

Baby, you're a vampire You want blood and I promised...

summary: It's been a month since Joel has last seen you, fully healed since your last interaction. But you haven't spoken...at all. Your radio silence becomes cause for concern when he hears about an outbreak of Infected at the hospital where you work. There's enough explanation in this part that you could read it on it's own, probably, but I'd highly recommend reading part one first to get the full experience. pairing: joel miller x f!reader words: 7.9k warnings: SMUT - 18+ ONLY, minors DNI. (porn w/ plot, unprotected sex, oral, rough sex, dirty talk, praise kink, age gap. dom/sub dynamics.) Heavy angst, multiple POVs, implied drug abuse, alcohol use, canon-typical suffering! Blood mention. Both reader/Joel are insanely emotionally unavailable, and love to lie to themselves and each other! (please dm for specifics if you have any questions). a/n: Ya'll loved savior complex and I'm so happy! Literally don't think I've had a fic get that many notes before, i had so many requests for a part two and because it felt like i left things open-ended enough, this came to me pretty easily! It might be the horniest thing I've ever written and also very angsty (what's new?)....but I think you'll like the ending <3 Special to @ay0nha for letting me yell at you about my writing and to @zbeez-outlet for the wonderful idea.

Joel exhales and runs his fingers through his salt-and-pepper hair – the tips of which were frozen together from standing outside for so long. It had gotten cold out. Very cold. Boston always did this time of year, and because of it, people stayed in, and crime in the QZ dropped, making it a safer place - though that wasn’t saying much.

Of course, the cold didn’t stop him from dealing. It did make his job a hell of a lot more difficult, since FEDRA was bored, out looking for trouble, and didn’t have more pressing matters to attend to. Although today, he must’ve been in luck, because the only sign of FEDRA had been helicopters and tanks that were clearly on a mission, driving to the opposite side of the QZ. Good, he had thought. A distraction.

Joel leans back against the brick wall of the alleyway, pulling the hood of his jacket up over his ears, stares at the ice in the cracks of the pavement. When he hears the crunch of gravel underfoot, he straightens.

The man approaching looks nervously over his shoulder, hands shoved deep in the pockets of his flimsy sweatshirt. Dave, a customer of his for some time.

“You’re late,” Joel doesn’t bother with a proper greeting.

“I know, I know, I got held up on my way here,” Dave answers, immediately beginning his excuse. “They cleared out the hospital because of an outbreak, that whole area was locked down so I had to take the long way.”

“Outbreak?” Joel tilts his head.

“Infected. I guess a bunch of hospital staff got bit. FEDRA had to go in and put them all down.”

Joel feels a distant pang of concern somewhere in the back of his head. “How many?”

Dave shrugs, scratching the back of his neck. “I don’t know, man, that’s all I know. It’s not like they’ll ever tell anyone what actually happened.”

Joel can’t help but think of you. He knows a couple people who work at the hospital, most of them through smuggling, but you’re the only one who he’s really able to bring to mind at the moment.

“So, can we, uh…”

Joel pulls the plastic baggie out from his pockets, fishing out the pills. On his end, Dave produces a wad of credits, his shoulders sagging in relief once they’ve made the trade and the drugs are in his hand. He takes one immediately, shoves the rest in his pocket. “Thanks man, I’ll see you next week?”

Leaning back against the wall, he nods, and watches his customer disappear down the alleyway.

The second Dave is out of sight, Joel’s chest tightens, and he takes a deep breath. There’s no reason why news of Infected at the hospital should concern him. If FEDRA had been called in – they would’ve gunned down anything that moved until it was under control. He knew, better than anyone, that they would do unspeakable things in the name of keeping order. Innocent people probably died, but the dead can’t get infected.

It had been about a month since Joel had last seen you, after he’d gotten beaten within an inch of his life and ended up on your doorstep, and you were the only person that could help. It hadn’t gone at all how he expected it would – at the end of the day, he had been surprised by your tenderness.

Still, despite that you’d let him take you on the edge of your bed, legs wrapped around him, bouncing on his cock, he wouldn’t really say that it changed anything about your relationship. He had actually been kind of afraid that it would, that your attitude towards him would shift to something more amicable.

But you hadn’t spoken to him in a month. Joel had told you he owed you one after you stitched him up, and had anticipated that you’d take him up on his offer pretty quickly. There were so many things he could do for you to make your situation better. Maybe you’d need credits…. Medicine…. Food…. Booze… Pills, something, but you haven’t reached out. You could just be biding your time until you really need the favor.

Still, the radio silence takes him aback. He should be relieved that you aren’t talking to him. But nothing? Even if it’s not about a favor…he wants some kind of confirmation that you’d both made a mistake. After all that, did you really expect nothing from him?

It dawns on him there’s now a chance you’ll never speak to him again, because you’re one of the ones that FEDRA killed. Or worse….you had gotten bit.

Joel passes by the hospital, taking the long way home. Everything is locked down, taped off. There’s a crowd around the place – family members, he assumes, pleading with FEDRA agents for information and getting nothing in return.

“Go home. I’m sure they’ll turn up,” he hears one of them say to a weeping woman. It’s useless to ask for an honest answer, for one of them to actually care.

Joel could go home. He could crush a couple pills, snort them, and quell the burn with a couple drinks. He could fall into restless sleep and wake up the next day as he always did, go about his business as usual. Survive. One day at a time.

Would he ever get confirmation that you’re alive? Because at this rate, he’s not sure he’ll ever know either way.

The feeling is going to linger. He hates it. Were you gone? If you are, he can handle knowing. Its somehow worse not to.

He tries to justify it to himself. You’re one of his solid connections to the hospital, you’d traded with him for medical supplies before. This is business, really, if he thinks about it that way. If you’re dead, he and Tess need to find someone else to work with.

Joel decides to take a detour on the way back to his place.

It’s past curfew when he arrives at your apartment, the sun has long since dipped below the horizon and with that comes an even harsher cold. Boston winters, he thinks to himself. If he is capable of missing anything, he’d say he missed Texas. Before all this, the last place he’d be caught dead was on the East Coast.

Joel raps on your front door. He forgets how shitty your building is, that you sleep here alone every night, listening to your neighbors arguing through the thin walls, shady characters slinking out of shadows in the dimly-lit hallway,

A few seconds pass. When he hears nothing behind your door, he knocks again, a little louder.

More time passes. He knocks again, louder. Maybe you didn’t hear him.

Nothing. He does it again. Could you be asleep? His jaw clenches.

Still nothing, and Joel knocks even louder. Maybe you’re not even here, and you work nights, and he’s just missed you as you head out for another shift. But he knows that’s unlikely. Since he’s known you, you’ve never worked nights. So where the fuck were you?

Joel’s pounds on your door, yells your name into its chipping paint. He listens for something, anything, on the other side, and there’s nothing, absolutely nothing, but he keeps going The side of his fist starts to hurt, but he can’t stop himself. He doesn’t even realize what he’s doing until he hears one of your neighbors yelling from the end of the hallway.

‘Shut the fuck up!’

Joel doesn’t hear exactly where the voice comes from, but it’s enough to snap him out of it. He halts his movements, his forehead falling against hollow wood, and in the silence, hears his heart pounding in his ears.

“Fuck!” he kicks the wall just outside the frame of your door so hard the drywall gives, leaving a hole behind. “Fuck.”

He stares at the result of his outburst for an undetermined amount of time. You were all alone. To his knowledge, you had no immediate family to inform. Who would be around to remember you? He’d never really know for sure what had happened.

“Joel?”

He looks up, his hands still clenched tightly into fists. When he sees that it’s you, standing at the end of the hallway, they loosen.

You look horrible - haggard, tired, your hair tangled and matted. As you move closer to him, he doesn’t miss the way your shoulders are hunched underneath the weight of your backpack. But once you’re standing in front of him, you straighten, lift your chin.

“What is this?” you ask. “What are you doing here?”

There’s no animosity in your tone, he thinks. You might be trying to put some in there, but you don’t have the energy to do so, so it just comes out sounding very flat.

Joel realizes, suddenly, that he doesn’t have a reason. A real reason that wouldn’t….give him away. He puts his hands on his hips, thinks desperately. You do nothing to help.

When he settles in silence, offers you nothing, you just sigh and shake your head. Your teeth are chattering, lips cracked from the cold, and you seem desperate to get into shelter, twisting your key into your lock and opening the front door. Once you step inside, you flick on the lights. He follows you, closes the door behind you both, and locks it.

“Oh, yeah, come on in, I guess,” you say over your shoulder.

Joel crosses his arms, standing in your kitchen.

“What, am I in trouble or something?” you ask. “Because if I am, you’re gonna have to wait until I’ve showered.”

“It can wait,” Joel says, and sits at one of your kitchen chairs.

You shrug off of your backpack and leave it on a chair, then unbutton your coat, tossing it on top. Joel swallows hard when he sees the damage it’s been hiding. Your scrubs are dirty, tattered in some places, one of the sleeves hanging, partially ripped off. And they’re covered in dried blood. It’s smeared on your arms, on the back of your neck. Not yours, he hopes.

What the fuck happened to you? You don’t turn to see his reaction, don’t look over your shoulder to see if he’s going to ask about it. It’s almost like he’s not even there, and you clearly wish he isn’t.

He realizes then, that he has the confirmation he’s looking for. You made it out alive. He doesn’t actually need anything else from you. And you’ve given him a perfect out. He can leave while you’re in the shower.

But he doesn’t. Not when he hears the shower start, or the screech of the curtain across the metal rod, the sound of water hitting the basin. He stays there, motionless, until you duck out of the bathroom with your arms wrapped around yourself, wearing a sweatshirt and sweatpants, hair damp and teeth chattering.

You pad with bare feet onto the tiled area of the kitchen, brushing past him.

“What the fuck happened to you?” he asks.

You finally look at him, like you’re surprised he spoke up, or even asked the question. A choked, bitter laugh leaves you, and you shift your attention away from him, reaching into your cabinet for a bottle of bourbon. “Pass.”

You pour yourself a whiskey, and Joel watches you throw it back in one go, your nose scrunching up, your hand clasping into a fist as you take the shot. The taste doesn’t stop you from pouring another drink and gulping that one down, too, without as much of a reaction as the first. It’s only when you start pouring the third that he intervenes, standing and crossing the room to cover the glass with his hand before you can grab it.

“Slow down,” he says.

“I know you’re not telling me what to do in my own home.” Your mouth opens as you look up at him, incredulous.

Joel looks past you, shakes his head. He supposes your right, but it doesn’t make it any easier to watch the self-destructive behavior, which is funny considering how often he engages in it himself. He gives in, removes his hand from your glass. “At least…pour me one. You shouldn’t drink alone.”

Your expression softens slightly, and he’s able to see all the pain you’re hiding, just for a flash, before you turn to retrieve a second glass from your cabinet.

Once you hand him the whiskey, he sits in the middle of the tiny loveseat you’ve got in your front room, expecting you to sit in the armchair across from it. Instead, you approach with your own drink, nudge his knee with your own, and Joel slides over to make room so you can fall onto the couch beside him. Much closer than he’d expected.

It’s surprisingly good bourbon, and he wonders how many times you’d wasted it by downing it like you just had, instead of taking your time, savoring. He waits for you to get settled before he speaks again.

“What happened to you?” he tries once more, a little softer this time.

There’s some contemplation on your end, you look at him for a moment, then at your glass, then back up at him again. He can almost see you trying to figure out how much you’re going to share, but he wants to know everything.

“There was an accident at the hospital,” you answer, finally.

Joel slings his arm over the back of the couch, angles his body towards where you’re curled up, legs tucked underneath you. I’m listening.

Your voice stays even, blase. “A guard at the border broke protocol…and someone who was infected was brought in. By the time we realized, it was too late….”

“Were you hurt?”

“Almost.” you say. “I mean, yes, actually, I’m a little scratched up, but…it’s not as bad as it could’ve been.”

Your teeth start chattering again. Joel wonders if it’s because of the cold, or your nerves. Figures it’s probably both.

“My coworker turned and I uhm….I had to…” you say into your glass, your free hand flexing like it’s trying to shake off some unpleasant muscle memory. “I had no choice.”

“I understand,” For whatever reason, he spares you from telling the story. To him, taking down Infected was nothing. But to you…“What else?” he presses.

You shrug, avoiding his eyes, one of your arms coming to grip at your opposite shoulder. “I can’t really remember. A bunch of people died. FEDRA came in and just started gunning everything down….” you shook your head, and straightened up.

“I heard about that,” Joel offers.

“Wait…you knew about this?”

“Yeah.”

“So then why are you here, asking m-” the rest of your sentence drops off, your lips parted slightly. The look on your face shifts, slowly. Your eyes narrow. Remorse turns into something more neutral, then into curiosity. “Oh my god….you were worried about me.”

“No.”

“Yes, you fucking were,” your lips curl slightly, it’s not quite a smile, but it’s something close to amusement.

“No,” Joel defends himself. “I wanted to hear what happened from someone–”

“No you didn’t,” you interject, but he raises his voice to finish his thought.

“–who actually works there, not FEDRA’s propaganda.”

“No you did not. You’re checking up on me. You came over here after curfew to see if I was–”

“Enough,” Joel growls with enough conviction that it shuts you up, and he’s grateful, but its not enough to wipe the self-satisfied look on your face, because it doesn’t.

“What are we, like, friends now?”

He doesn’t answer, and slugs back the rest of his whiskey.

“Or would that be too much for you?” You don’t wait long for him to give you an answer, probably because you know he won’t respond. “I mean, if we’re both being honest–” He definitely wasn’t being honest. “–Today was really fucked up.”

You’re leaning forward now, some of the space between you is gone. And though you’re trying to give the impression that you’re unphased by everything, your hand is clenched tightly around your glass, and you avoid his eyes. It’s painful to watch you resist the urge to trust him. Not that he’s ever given you a good enough reason to – he knows he doesn’t deserve it, but he wants it anyways.

“It’s funny…” you say after a while. “I remember thinking that I didn’t want to die. At least… not like that. I’ve never felt that before…That’s something, isn’t it?” you ask him.

Joel looks at you, and is surprised at the vulnerability in your expression, sees you looking for some kind of validation from him. “....It is.”

You finish off your drink, and put the empty glass on the coffee table, shift closer to him.

“It looks like you healed up okay,” you say, after a spell. “How’s your shoulder?”

“A little sore, nothing I can’t handle.”

“Did you take those antibiotics?”

“Yes.”

“Good. And I can’t even tell you had a black eye.”

“I’m fine,” Joel asserts.

Another shiver wracks your body, and he can tell this one is actually from the chill – your apartment is cold as fuck, it even is starting to bother him.

“Don’t you have a heater?”

“Kinda,” you glance over at the radiator in the corner. “Sometimes it works.”

“What do you do when it’s colder than this?” It was only November, things would only get worse.

You shrug. “I don’t know….just be colder, I guess.”

Joel imagines you curled up in your bed alone, wrapped in a thin comforter, shaking in front of him like you are now. He winces.

“How long are you going to stay?” you ask, changing the subject.

“I should probably go now.”

You nod, scoot closer. “But maybe…” you trail off, contemplating.

Joel sits up straighter, prompting you when you don’t speak again. “Maybe what?”

“Maybe you could stick around for a little while longer.” There’s a warm hand, yours, that lands on his thigh, and he recoils like you’ve touched him with a fire iron. He rises to his feet.

“Hey,” you stand along with him, step in front of him to block the pathway to the door. He could easily get past you, obviously, but it’s not as simple as that.

Of course he’s fucking thought about what happened the last time he was here – his arms around your waist, his mouth on your neck, your chest, your hands on his shoulders, whining his name. A freak accident, a glitch in the matrix, a statistically improbable thing.

“What?” he asks as you step forward, the fingers on your free hand sliding into the belt loops of his pants. He feels blood rush to his cheeks, to other places. And you’re still fucking shivering. You look so fucking miserable, he wants to yell at you to put on a coat, to wrap yourself in a blanket, in his arms.

“Joel,” you say his name softly, tilting your head up, leaning close. And then your hand is on the side of his face, and he realizes you’re fucking pleading with him. He knows what you want, but he has a feeling this isn’t just about sex. You’re looking for comfort, as if he’s capable of giving it.

“We made a mistake…once,” he tells you. “We’re not going to make it again.”

He says it to hurt you, but it doesn’t work. It’s like you knew it was coming all along. “I knew what I was doing,” you answer, earnest. “Didn’t you?”

Yes. You glance down at his hands, which are squeezed into fists so tightly, his knuckles are white. If he’s not rigid, he’s not sure how he’ll be able to resist. He wants you. God, he wants you. He never thought he’d be able to have you again.

“I could help you loosen up.”

Joel’s walking on the edge of a one-thousand foot cliff and hoping his foot slips. He wants to surrender. The only thing he thinks might save him is to say the meanest thing he can. Maybe you’d get turned off.

“Listen to yourself,” he says, finding the strength to meet your eyes. “You want me so bad, you sound pathetic.”

“Asshole,” you step closer, your mouth twitches, your lips are inches apart. “Do you think I care what you think about me?”

Joel realizes his plan has backfired. But he really only has himself to blame, he should’ve known better. With you, he’s never in as much control as he wants to be, and deep down, he likes it.

“Go lie down on the bed.”

It’s the only thing that seems to shock you. “What?”

“I won’t ask you again,” Joel steps backwards, crosses his arms. “Go lie down.”

──────

If you told yourself a couple months ago that one day you’d find yourself pinned down by Joel Miller, you’d think it’d be because he was about to kill you. Maybe because you cheated him out of something, maybe because you did something else to piss him off – it didn’t really matter. Regardless of how fucked up it was, that idea would seem more dignified than what was happening now.

Your back is being pressed deeper into the lumpy old mattress, and he’s on you. His mouth is warm, hot, wet, and dragging down your neck, nipping, sucking, licking. Your hands are itching to reach out, to skate down his torso, trace along his jawline, tug at his hair, but you can’t because he’s got them pinned above you with only one of his own. Anytime you try to fight him, his grip only grows stronger.

It was shameful, really, but you had asked for this – begged for it, basically. There were a number of reasons why – one of which was to blow off some steam after a near death experience, the other because you’d fucked him before and it had been good, much to your dismay. There was also a third reason that you weren’t interested in acknowledging now.

After the night Joel had gotten jumped, and you’d taken care of him, everything has changed. It’s a cliche, but true. You’d known what you were doing when it happened, and had no regrets. But it was probably not supposed to happen again, and you tried to keep it that way, more for his sake than anyone else’s. But….he was the one who showed up tonight after he’d heard what had happened. It wasn’t nothing.

Joel pulls away from you so abruptly that you gasp, shivering in the wake of his impossible warmth.

“Sit up,” he instructs, and you turn to find him at the end of the bed, arms crossed.

You obey, mostly just for the view. You hope to admire him, fresh from kissing you – flush skin, wet lips, tousled hair. Only he’s frustratingly stoic, unsullied – like he hadn’t been touching you at all.

“Look at me,” he says, and you do.

“This doesn’t mean anything.”

“It’s nothing,” you agree.

“I won’t be gentle.”

“I don’t want you to be gentle.”

“Good,” you watch his shoulders loosen, just a little, and he takes one step backwards, his eyes tracing down your body and then back up. “Strip for me….”

You aren’t dressed sexy at all, you remember, a sweatshirt and sweatpants. If you had thought this through a little more, you might’ve tried to make it nicer for him. “....Okay.”

“Start with your shirt,” he says, and you grab at the hem, but he snaps at you. “Ah-ah….slower.”

You swallow, nod, and carefully lift the fabric, dragging it up over your stomach, over the swell of your breasts, revealing your tight, thin white tank top.

“That’s it, nice and slow.”

Joel’s voice is soft but stern, a low rasp that makes your cunt clench around nothing, and he’s not even touching you. The sweatshirt is pulled over your head, falling somewhere on the crumpled bedspread.

Languidly, you lean back, shifting your weight to get off the mattress, and Joel palms himself through his jeans. You can see where he’s straining against the denim, and you find it hard to tear your gaze away as you go to pull off your sweatpants. Joel stops you again.

“Turn around.”

You do, and you’re sure he has a nice view of your ass as you slide them over your hips, bending over to let the fleece pool around your ankles. Slowly, you rise back up, looking at him over your shoulder for approval.

“Good girl,” he murmurs. Your stomach flips. A month ago, you would’ve done anything to get him to stay away from you, and now, you’re terrified to disappoint him.

That’s the problem. You’d spent most of the day fighting for your life — literally. But even after standing behind a barricade of heavily-armed FEDRA soldiers outside the hospital, you didn’t feel as safe as you did when you saw Joel at your door. You need him. For now, at least.

“Now the shirt,” he tilts his head towards the mattress, nodding encouragingly.

You get back on the bed, sitting back on your heels, and begin to pull the tank top up. It’s your last layer up top, you’re not wearing a bra, and you’re feeling a little vulnerable with him just watching you, fully clothed and composed, your gaze falling down to look at the threadbare linens.

“Eyes up,” he instructs. “Look at me.”

Taking in a shaky inhale, you do. It’s not easy. Everything about him looks dark, animalistic. A coiled ball of energy, waiting to pounce.

But, even when you’re bare before him, he doesn’t.

“Lie back, close your eyes.”

Of course, you don’t refuse, settling your head against the pillows.

There’s a sound of a belt – his belt, unbuckling, the snap of a button, the dip of the bed where he kneels when he comes to hover over you. Two hands land on top of your thighs, pressing the backs against his denim-clad knees, thumbs pushing your legs further apart.

And then…nothing. He’s still. He’s still for so long, that you actually think that something’s wrong. When you open your eyes, you’re met with a view of the underside of his jaw. You can just make out the pinched expression he’s wearing as he looks down upon you. Disdain, maybe…but it’s not meant for you, it’s for someone else….him.

“Joel,” you murmur. Instinctually, you reach for his hand.

The second it makes contact, he smacks your hand away so hard your whole body jolts. “I told you to close your eyes.”

“Sorry,” you mumble quickly, closing them again.

You are well aware that he’s actively working through shit, probably doing some kind of mental gymnastics to rationalize why it’s okay to fuck you again, which, when you really think about it is kind of….pathetic. It’s the only thing that makes you feel any sort of power in a situation where you’ll surrender everything else. It’s a fair exchange.

Maybe, on a different day, you would want it softer. You’d like to think he’s capable of that, even though he seems determined he isn’t. Luckily, you don’t want it softer. After today, you want to be so far gone you can’t think.

Joel answers by leaning down and catching you in a bruising kiss. Finally. You press yourself against him cause you’re freezing and he’s so warm, and you frantically begin to unbutton the flannel he’s wearing, making it about halfway down before he pins your hands above you again.

“Slow down.”

You whine, a little frustrated because all you want to do is touch him. The fingers on his free hand hook around the elastic of your underwear, and he starts to drag them over the curve of your ass.

He’s got to be joking with how deliberately he’s moving, anticipation only building underneath his featherlight touches.

When he’s got your panties around your ankles, you slide your legs together so he can pull them off entirely, keeping them closed as his weight shifts, and your thighs are pulled back apart.

“You’re already so wet for me,” he doesn’t need to feel you to see it clear as day, with you spread open in front of him. “So fucking desperate.”

He’s all-but glaring at you, like you’ve done something wrong, and for a minute, your eyes flick away, just for a second of relief from the tension.

“What, are you embarrassed?” he asks.

“N-no,” you stammer, though it was supposed to sound confident.

Thankfully, he doesn’t press you, his head dipping down to press his lips to your knee, then an inch higher, then an inch higher, then higher – keeping his eyes locked on yours the whole time, an arm winding around your thigh.

“I wanted to do this last time.” A confession.

“Yeah?” you sigh, trembling. It’s maybe the nicest thing he’s said to you, but you can’t even acknowledge it, because you’re buzzing.

He turns his face, his beard scraping along sensitive skin. “Mhm,” his deep rasp vibrates directly to your cunt, and when his head dips down, you close your eyes – it might just be better to focus on only one sensation at a time, you’re not sure you can handle seeing what he’s about to do.

Joel’s mouth is on you the second you do, and you gasp. He licks up the seam of your lips, mouth latching around your clit, swirling with his tongue, and back down – firm, determined, practiced. You try to buck up, but he has an arm locked around your hips.

He removes himself from you just enough to utter two words. “Stay still.”

You want to protest, but you realize that he’s let go of your hands, and it gives you the opportunity to thread your fingers into his hair, while you dig your heels into the broad expanse of his back, and he groans, tongue curling into you.

“I’ve thought about this,” you gasp, answering his earlier admission.

“When?”

“At night. More than once.”

“Fuck,” Joel growls, and you wheeze when he works one finger into you, forcing you to take it along with his next words. “You know how fuckin’ bad that is? Dreamin’ about a man nearly twice your age?”

“I d-don’t care, I want you anyway. Y-you can do whatever you want to me,” It’s too early to be past the point of speaking coherently, it really is, but you’re already there.

“F-fuck,” Joel repeats himself, and pushes another finger inside you next to the first, the stretch almost uncomfortable, but quickly fading to pleasure. “I’m going to.”

You’re not the going to tell him, though, that he’s the first man whose ever gone down on you, because you’re a little fucking scared for some reason. It’s intimate, very intimate, more than you expected.

The truth is, you weren’t actually very experienced at all. You could count on one hand the number of partners you’d had, and still not use all of your fingers. While some of them were good enough, they all paled in comparison to Joel. There had never been anyone like Joel.

His fingers curl as his tongue swirls around your clit and you cry out, inhale sharply. Minute by minute, you’re getting wetter and wetter – can hear yourself with each twist of his fingers inside you, bearing down on him.

“You taste so fuckin’ good,” he grunts, and your eyes flutter open just for a second, just to see his forehead, dark eyes staring back at you, and his hips dipping, rutting against the mattress. God he’s getting himself off to this. As hot as it is, the thought of not getting to feel him inside you causes a rush of anger.

“F-feels so good,” you’re right there, already, and it’s pitiful.

“I know, baby, I know,” he says. “You’re already so close, aren’t you?”

Instead of answering, you just nod, gasping. Joel works you right up to the precipice, hands tightening in his hair, hips lifting off the bed – and then he slows a little – just enough – to pull you back off the edge, and you let out a humiliating sob.

“Shhh!” he hisses with his mouth still on you, resuming the steady pace he had going. A little sigh of relief when you feel your release approaching again. He just lost his rhythm for a moment, it was nothing.

Again, he’s got you right there, you’re so close, hips jerking, breathing in short, sharp pants, something molten working its way up your spine. “Joel, that’s it, please I-”

He falters again – just enough. And it’s gone again.

You realize, with dismay, that he knows exactly what he’s doing. He hadn’t lost his rhythm. He’s doing this on purpose.

If someone asked – not that anyone would – you wouldn’t be able to recall how long he keeps you in that state, being dragged and dangled, but denied the privilege of falling. It’s torture.

And at first, you try to be patient. You figure he’ll grow tired, desperate, and eventually want to move on. But apparently, he doesn’t want to move on. He’s content to keep you this way for as long as he sees fit, and you can’t handle it any longer. It’s starting to hurt.

“Please, Joel, let me-” you gasp.

“Let you what?” he pulls back from you, frustratingly too soon, once again.

“Let me come, please, I’ll do anything, I’ll be good, please, please-”

“Just a little longer,” he dismisses you.

All you can do is pant and writhe, completely at his mercy. He keeps going like that, and you’ve stopped trying to filter yourself, the sounds he makes as he laves at you are obscene, you can see yourself glistening on his chin, and can feel the sheets damp beneath you. At this point, he’s enjoying this more than you are.

“Joel,” you plead with him again. “It’s too much, I c-can’t. Just, please I really need-”

“You wanna come for me, baby?” he asks. You nod ferociously.

“Yes, please, please,”

“You’re so fucking sweet when you beg, you know that? ” he murmurs. “Wish you were like this all the time.”

“Fuck off,” you manage, feeling heat rise to your cheeks. You should do this to me more often.

Joel chuckles, and it vibrates just right, his fingers curling again and you moan, hands tightening in his hair. He’s focused now, you can tell because the constant stream of filth he’s been whispering has finally stopped. He’s persistent.

You’re unable to stay quiet, continuing to whimper just like that and please don’t stop over and over. And then all at once, every muscle in your body grows tense and you cry out, cunt pulsing around him so tightly that his fingers slow. “There you go, pretty girl, that’s it.”

You whisper his name as he continues to fuck his fingers into you, riding you through your orgasm and licking up the mess you’ve made.

At some point in the aftermath, Joel withdraws from you, and you hear the sting of his zipper. It takes a moment, but you’re able to see him through heavily lidded eyes, kneeling in front of you with his shirt unbuttoned all the way, pants around his ankles, jerking himself slowly in his hand. God he’s fucking huge, how had you forgotten about that? He’s a vision, beard still wet with you, looking down, watching your chest rise and fall. In that moment you realize two things. One, even though you’ve already come, you somehow want him even more than you had before, and two, you’ve never wanted to suck a dick so bad in your life.

So you sit up, crawl towards him, and reach out with one hand to take him in your palm. He lets you, sighing, closing down his eyes. First, you have to kiss him, so you rise to your knees, and he pulls you into his arms, one of them winding around your waist, the other coming to rest at the small of your back. “You take such good care of me,” you whisper.

He grimaces at the words like they’re an insult. You expect him to retaliate, to tell you that you shouldn’t say that sort of thing, but he never does. So you kiss him, gently, bringing your free hand to the side of his face. Once again, he lets you, and you taste yourself when his tongue presses into you mouth. You run your thumb over the head of his cock, and he hums against your touch, almost contentedly.

You’re doing whatever you want to him, and you’re shocked he hasn’t put a stop to it. It could be satisfying enough, you think, just to keep kissing him like this. Still, you sink back towards the bed to test things further. You’re about to wrap your mouth around him, but he pulls you off by your hair, so quickly, so hard that you yelp.

“No.” he says firmly. “Lie back.”

“But I just wanted to-”

“No.”

You consider trying to reason with him, but decide it won’t be worth whatever he’d do if you continue to argue.

Joel braces himself with one hand above your shoulder, the other wrapped around his cock, slowly teasing you by rubbing himself up and down a few times, before he gives in, finally pushing into you.

“Oh, fuck,” you gasp at the stretch, reaching out grasp at his bicep, arching your back. He’d prepped you, and it was still too much.

“You can take it,” he says, pressing deeper into you. His hips are all the way flush with yours, he’s to the hilt, and he still snaps them even further, once, holding you there, so deep, you feel like you’re choking on him. “See? There you go.”

It seems like you can’t quite catch your breath, and you squirm underneath him for some kind of friction, some kind of relief from how intense it all is. You can feel him throbbing inside you, feel how badly his own body is begging him to move, but he doesn’t.

“Joel,” you cradle the back of his head, look him in the eyes. “Move, please.”

He doesn’t answer, he just brings his hand to grip your jaw, his thumb and forefinger pressing into the soft flesh of your cheeks.

“Please?” you murmur again, and his thumb slips into your mouth, silencing you. You suck on it obediently, and after you do, he finally gives you what you want.

──────

Joel told you he wouldn’t be gentle, and he isn’t.

He hadn’t been able to do this last time. Taste you, spread you open, fuck you properly. His hips snap against yours – ferociously, unrelenting, over and over. You’ve been going at it for awhile now, and he actually wants you to break. He wants you to tell him to slow down, to be a little more tender, not press into you so deep, so hard, so that if he listens, it wouldn’t mean he’s breaking his own promise. He’s got to be rough with you, because he’s afraid of what could happen if he’s not.

But you don’t break. You fucking take it, take him, each time, again and again, your nails digging into arms, your legs locked around his hips. Each time he delves into you, you’re getting wetter and wetter, and yet, you’re still so fucking tight. He doesn’t understand it. It’s been a long fucking time since he’s been with a woman like you – and you might be the best he’s ever had.

You’re not even making any noise – you’re just panting, gasping in Joel’s ear as you cling to him, and that’s all. He can’t even look you in the eyes. If he does, he knows you’ll see everything that’s wrong with him, and still beg for him to give you more.

Two hands land on either side of his face, turning his head so you can kiss him. Despite how he’s treating you, you keep trying to connect, to ground yourself. For as much as he wants to refuse, it feels too cruel to deny you. He lets you lock your lips with his own, feels your cunt clutch him even tighter. It’s impossible for you to kiss for more than a few seconds at a time without it getting broken up by a whimper here and there. You’re getting close again, he’s started to get better at recognizing it.

“You’re fucking so perfect on me, baby, you feel that?” he asks, and you nod, breathless. “Taking me so well, such a good fucking girl-”

A gasp from you cuts him off, your eyes squeezing shut as you are taken over by your climax. Joel groans and does everything he can not to come when you start pulsing around him, holding him closer, since there’s nothing else to do. It’s way too intimate…because it’s missionary, and he should’ve known better than to start off like this.

Pulling out of you is the hardest thing he’s had to do in a while, and he ignores your noises of protest now that he’s left you empty. Then, he flips you onto your stomach. He takes a moment to admire the curve of your ass, how it dips into your waist….to him, your body is perfect, and you’re young, your skin still supple and smooth. There are still places he hasn’t gotten his mouth on, and it’s a shame, he thinks, but tonight his patience is wearing thin. Joel pulls you back until you’re on your knees, and slides back inside. There’s a little resistance, you whimper, but it’s easier than the first time. He wraps an arm around your waist, the other across your chest, and starts to jerk his hips upwards, into you.

“Oh fuck, Joel,” you sigh in relief.

“I know, I know.”

You drop your head back until it falls against his shoulder, winding your arm back so you can pull at his hair, which kind of fucking hurts, but he likes it.

Ultimately, you’re pretty easy to please, and it’s not long before he feels the telltale flutter of your walls as you drip down over him, soaking his lap.

“You’re making a fucking mess, baby. You gonna come for me again?”

All you can do is plead with him. “I can’t, Joel. I can’t do it again, please just-”

“Yes, you can,” he interjects. “I know you can, baby, don’t worry…I’ll help you.”

“O-okay.’

He slows the roll of his hips just a little, focuses on deeper, longer strokes, and lets the hand that’s currently squeezing one of your tits fall to where your bodies are joined, finding your clit immediately.

You whine, arching back against him, the swell of your ass packed against his lower stomach. He sees a single tear leaking from the corner of your eye and feels a little guilty for what he’s doing to you. Only a little, though.

Without any warning, for the third time, you’re coming around him – easier than the last time, like always – and he uses the feeling of you throbbing around him to chase his own release, his hand clapping over your mouth to muffle your moans as he becomes increasingly frantic.

He turns his head, rakes his teeth along your exposed neck, and sinks them into your pulse point with a groan. Your breath is hot against him when you whimper in response.

“Just a little more, honey.” He’s so close. You bob your head, though you’ve nearly gone limp in his arms.

Like last time, Joel knows it’s a bad idea, but he’s not going to pull out. The thought of deliberately coming inside you is actually what sends him over the edge, and he’s cursing and moaning your name. You whine at the feeling of him pulsing inside of you, arching back for more, even though he can tell you’re exhausted.

It’s fucking freezing in your apartment, and yet, his skin is damp with sweat when he finally regains some awareness of his surroundings. He’s panting, you’re sniffling, a weak smile on your face as you catch your breath. Before he can stop himself, he presses his lips to your cheek.

Joel tilts you both forward – very tentatively, keeping an arm wrapped around your waist. At some point, your hand settled over top of his, and you threaded your fingers between his own, holding his hand across your stomach. You keep it there, even after you’ve settled onto the bed.

It takes a few minutes before either of you move, but it’s you who gives in first, wriggling out from where he’s got you trapped partially underneath him.

You retreat to the bathroom, like you did last time. Somewhere during your coupling the linens have slid down the bed, and Joel settles back against the pillows, throwing an arm behind his head. Now that he’s stopped sweating, he’s just cold, and he reaches to pull the bedspread over him. He should leave, he thinks, before you come out and ask him to. Beat you to the punch. Maybe while you’re still in the bathroom.

A few minutes later, and you return from the bathroom, dressed again in sweats. He hears you pour yourself a glass of water, gulping it down. You flick off the lamp on your bedside table, and fall into bed next to him, lying rigidly on your back. He should reach out, pull you against him, let you settle in his arms. Instead, Joel rolls over on his side.

It’s terrible how beautiful you are, he thinks, watching you stare up at the ceiling, hugging yourself. So beautiful, and fucking smart. You’re strong, too, but not as strong as he wishes you were. Of course, no one could ever be that strong.

He whispers your name. You turn your head, pupils still blown wide with lingering lust.

“You need to learn to defend yourself, to shoot a gun, to fight,” he says. “After today.”

“What?” you roll to face him.

“You said you didn’t want to die,” Joel continues. “So you need to learn. ‘Case something like that happens again.”

“Oh yeah? Lemme guess, you’re gonna teach me?” your voice is a little hoarse after what he’d done to you, and you smirk at him.

“Yes.” It sobers you up, that he’s not fucking with you, or giving you a hard time. “I owe you, remember?”

“You do.”

“So…. I’ll teach you.”

“....Okay.”

“Alright.”

Joel rolls over to his opposite side, and you’re left staring at his back. Arms wrapped around

himself in a tight hug, he waits for you to tell him to go.

You never do.

Instead, he feels the heat of your body as you curl up against him, slotting one of your legs between his own. Your hand grazes up his ribs, over his bicep – a gentle, quick massage – before you tuck your arm underneath his own, your palm flat against his heart.

“What are you doing?” he asks, frozen at how tender the embrace is. It’s a foreign feeling, he can’t remember the last time someone touched him like this.

The tip of your nose hits the nape of his neck, and he can feel your shuddery exhale.

“I’m cold,” you say, like it’s obvious, lips brushing featherlight against his skin. “And if you’re staying, you might as well make yourself useful.”

He can’t roll over and wrap his arms around you. He can’t kiss your forehead or play with your hair or murmur into your ear. He can’t offer you anything in return. Joel decides, though, if he’s going to accept comfort from anyone, it’s going to be from you.

──────

taglist (basically if you asked for a pt 2 on the last part i tagged you): @bbyanarchist @dlwrish @imaginewrites24 @captain-yellow-96 @daisyintheskyewithdiamonds @sludgec0r33 @c0wb0ym3nace

#joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #joel miller imagine #joel miller fanfic #joel miller x you #pedro pascal #the last of us #the last of us writing #the last of us fanfiction #tlou #tlou hbo #tlou fic #joel miller angst #writing

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see-arcane · 1 month

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A message to all the assorted unscrupulous undead: Beware the Ides of March.

To everyone else: Grab your kukri blades, your bowie knives, your stakes, your bone saws, and whatever else you have on hand to appropriately accessorize with your new copy of The Vampyres.

The book is out! Loose! Running rampant and bloodstained through the terrains of eBook and paperback alike!

My beautiful little baby, toddling into the literary world to deliver havoc unto the dastardly bastards of the revenant realm. I’m so proud. (And so happy to feel the stress headache finally start to crack.)

Now that The Vampyres is out in the open, a brief FAQ under the cut:

Where can I get the eBook?

Check out the Universal Book Link (UBL) here:

It’ll show you all the places you can grab a virtual vampyre by the throat.

Where can I get the paperback?

For folks in ‘murrica, I’d say hit up Bookshop.org to go and grab it from your physical store of choice:

You can also just search The Vampyres C.R. Kane and see the waterfall of options. Not sure of the exact timeline, but it should be more widely available in the coming weeks. At least hereabouts:

Pictured: Places to potentially purchase a paperback.

Can I get it at my library?

If you ask for it, yes! You’ll need the ISBNs when filling out your library’s request form, so:

eBook ISBN: 9798218374594

Paperback ISBN: 9798218374587

What’s the status on that paperback cover business?

Current status is still ???

At least in the sense that I’m not sure what version of the book cover you might get at the moment. Original matte? Temporary glossy? Updated matte that’s here to stay? No idea at the moment. My self-publishing page shows the update’s confirmed, but the online stores are still using the first version as the preview image and I’m not sure when that gets swapped out. At least the books are all print-on-demand, so whatever you order, just know it’s not coming from some thrown-away backup heap. It’s fresh from the book oven press.

Anything else I need to know?

First, reviews are extremely welcome! I am running on negative budget when it comes to waving my little flag to announce that I Made a Scary Vampire Book, so I’m really relying on word-of-mouth if I want it to actually get its head above water. Leaving stars and comments wherever you can, be it in the online stores, the Goodreadses or Smashwordses or whatever else, would be a big help.

(Really though, I can and will dissolve into a puddle of relieved ego if I see so much as one (1) Nice Comment on Tumblr, my cesspool of choice.*)

*This is not hyperbole. I can count on one hand how many PROMOTION © ™ posts I’ve made on Twitter and have fingers left over. This novella is tailored to my fellow fiendish bookworms on here.

Second, to those coming by this stuff for the first time and don’t know what all this hoopla is about, a preview of my novella, The Vampyres, is available on my website. Give it a gander if you want to see under-appreciated classic supernatural bogeymen dropped into their own horror story.

Thirdly, lastly, vitally: thank you.

The Vampyres is a beautiful accident that came together out of an itch to rattle something out just for myself; a break from a bloated piece that had turned into a chore which burned me out and threw away the fun of scribbling. A lightweight read that saved me from being crushed by a cinderblock.

By the same token, the people on here have shouldered me up and out of the creative pit of thinking ‘This is all for nothing.’ For all that I talk of how much I’m powered by spite and the desire to Read a Specific Thing only to realize I Have to Write That Thing First, I’d be a liar if I said the kindness and excitement of the folks who’ve been reading my nonsense for (holy hell) TWO YEARS in the wake of the first big Dracula Daily surge didn’t have a major role in getting this thing done.

I did make The Vampyres for me. But it’s for you guys too. For everyone who saw one of my rambles or little fictions and spoke up to say, I love this! I was thinking this! I wanted this! Finally, finally!

When you crack open the cover for the first time, on a screen or in your hands, I want you to know I’m thinking Thank You at you. I hope you enjoy all the horrors inside.

Postscript:

If you want more info on other stuff I'm tinkering with, check out my website here:

#the vampyres #on its way to join the stab-a-thon #my writing #the vampyre #dracula #horror #holy shit here it is you guys

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ashcal99 · 10 months

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Collarbones : Jasper Whitlock Hale IV

Chapter Four

"I can see your collarbones and baby I'm scared, Never thought I'd be so unprepared"

Summary: Camila Johnson was only 16 when she was diagnosed with leukemia. By the time she had turned 17, the doctors had tried everything to save her. Her family is close to giving up hope when they hear of a doctor who may be able to help her. The only problem is, he lives on the opposite side of the country. The small family soon decides to move to the small town in Washington, in efforts to prolong her life. In doing so, her life changes forever.

Warnings: Eventual smut (18+ only), mentions of death, depression, violence, descriptions of disease and weight loss, general angst, slow burn

Words: 7.4k

A/N: Please lmk if you'd like to be added to the tag list. Hope you enjoy. Made this chapter extra long for the wait x

Soundtrack

Previous Chapter

Series Masterlist

——————

January 29th, 2005

Camila sat there, frozen in time, for what seemed like an eternity trying to process what Jasper had just admitted. So, Jasper sat there, unmoving as well as not breathing. He wasn’t sure how she was taking the new information and suddenly found himself wishing that he held Edward’s power in that moment, willing to give everything just to know the thoughts that were going through her mind. Second best, he knew that she, remarkably, held no fright towards the admission, and he couldn’t help but wonder if she lacked the simple instinct that humans should be born with. The instinct to run away screaming when someone tells you that they’re a monster and could easily kill you.

At the end of the day, he knew that was what he was. A monster. He may have changed his diet and tried to appear human, but he was far from it. He had killed people. Innocent people. He couldn’t even make the argument that his family had done the same, because their body counts were minuscule compared to his. He had fed off of human blood for nearly eighty-five years before Alice had found him. Even with his new found vegetarianism considered, he still slipped up. More than anybody else, and even though he knew that Camila was safe around him, he also knew that she had every reason in the world to fear him, and it confused the hell out of him that she didn’t.

He couldn’t help himself as he spoke, the silence eating away at his resolve. “Can you please tell me what’s going through your mind?” He asked, nervousness gripping his throat as he croaked the words out.

Camila’s eyes flashed over to him, eyebrows creased in… confusion maybe? “I don’t know… I feel like I know I shouldn’t believe you, but for some reason, I do?” She said, eyes tracing his serious expression. “Can you prove it? N-not the vampire thing, I guess, but something to prove any of it is true?” She asked.

Jasper’s mind reeled for a moment trying to think of something quickly, when an idea popped into his head. “Remember how you said I’m really good at reading emotions? Like an empath?” He asked, waiting for her nod before continuing. “It’s a little more than that. Some of us, when we turn, we get… gifts. When I was changed I could not only feel people’s emotions like they were my own, but manipulate them too.” He explained slowly, trying to find the right words.

Given the situation, he figured this was his best bet in not freaking her out any further. Eyes scanning her face to make sure that she was okay with what he was about to do, he pushed a wave of happiness towards her. He watched as the corners of her lips curved upwards, the crease between her eyebrows smoothing as her heart filled with overwhelming joy.

She didn’t know nor care why she had become so suddenly happy, but as soon as the emotion was ripped back from her, the pieces clicked together. The smile slowly dropped from her face as her mind returned to where had been just moments before. “Holy shit.” She huffed out. He was telling the truth. As soon as the feeling of joy had hit her, it was gone.

Her eyes widened suddenly. Maybe this was the explanation as to why she felt so strongly towards him. Maybe it was him all along, manipulating her feelings. “Y-you don’t do that to me often do you?” She asked nervously.

Jasper shook his head quickly, not wanting her to get the wrong idea. “No. I’ve never with you before.” He rushed out, hoping to whatever god that she would believe him.

Letting out a sigh, Camila let her shoulders drop as she let herself relax back into her seat. She had no reason to think he was lying. From what she could tell, all of her feelings and emotions involving him were genuine, no matter how much she wished that they weren’t there to begin with.

“So, is the whole thing about garlic true?” She asked trying to lighten the mood. Everything had suddenly gotten much too daunting.

Throwing his head back with a bark of laughter, Jasper ran his long thin fingers through his golden curls. How in the world was she taking all of this so well? The ball had to drop at some point, right? There’s no way that everything would go this smoothly. Surely after she learned about his past and how much of a monster he really was, surely then, she would run away screaming. But that admission would have to wait for another day, because in that moment, he would give anything keep Camila as far away from that part of him as possible.

——————

January 31st, 2005

The rest of her day with Jasper had flown by, and before Camila knew it, it was the start to her second week at Forks High School. After the exhaustion of her first week, and hanging out with Jasper on Saturday, the rest of her weekend consisted of sleep and cramming in the remainder of her homework. When Monday finally came around, she was well rested, at lest as well rested as she could be.

Camila had just joined the end of the line in the cafeteria, Eric talking her ear off behind her once again, when her eyes finally met Jasper’s across the crowded room. She hadn’t seen him since he had dropped her back off at home Saturday night. Like a perfect gentleman, he had waited, car pulled against the curb and watched her figure until she had successfully made it fully inside her home, before he drove away.

Now that her eyes had met his for the first time since she had been given the opportunity to fully, well mostly maybe, process his confession, she felt a weight leave her shoulders that she wasn’t even aware was there in the first place. The rest of their night on Saturday had consisted mostly of more light hearted conversation, so now that she had been given the time to think of more questions to ask him, she had began to grow anxious of waiting.

She knew the questions would have to wait, however, but seeing his face, that alone, eased that stress and anxiety from her. Everything had happened so quickly that her mind didn’t know how to calculate what his confession actually meant, and over the remainder of the weekend her mind had time to wander. He was dangerous, that much was apparent, but somehow, she also knew that he wouldn’t hurt her. That she was safe with him.

It felt almost like a fever dream, everything happening so quickly. They had only just met, but suddenly, she couldn’t remember the last time she had felt so comfortable with another person. So comfortable with being vulnerable, and content with sharing with him what she had been so keen on keeping from everyone else. Clearly he felt the same, that much she could gather herself, given his blatant honesty with her.

Eric’s voice broke her from her thoughts as he continued his ramble on about how their trip to La Push Beach had gone and how she ‘had to join them next time’. She had to stop herself from cringing, not looking forward to coming up with another excuse in the future. She turned to him, attempting to give a reassuring smile. She didn’t want to come off rude, especially with the wide grin that was stretched across his face. He was just trying to be friendly, and that’s what she wanted. So, even if his persistence slightly annoyed her, she was still happy to have him around.

Chills ran up her spine as icy fingertips brushed lightly across her lower back, bringing goosebumps quickly to the surface of her skin. She knew who it was, of course, before she looked up, having already gotten used to the feel of his touch, but that didn’t stop the flutter of her heart as her eyes met Jasper’s once more. He had sensed her unease from across the room and had decided to come to her rescue.

“Will you sit with us for lunch today?” He asked, giving her a quirked eyebrow as well as a small smile. Alice had been pestering him since his return on Saturday to spend more time with the girl. As usual, she would get what she wanted, she already knew that of course, but that didn’t stop her from reminding him at every chance she got.

Jasper watched as the gears in her head began to turn, slowly processing his invitation, her heart sputtering at his touch. He couldn’t help his smile from growing bigger across his face, enjoying hearing the reaction he had on her heart. “S-sure.” She stuttered out, turning back to the lunch lady to pay for her tray of food. She sent a small wave and smile to the boy, Eric, and fell in stride by Jasper’s side, his hand ghosting the small of her back as he lead her to the table that held the remainder of his family.

Eric stood for a moment, mouth agape as he stared at their retreating figures. What was it with the new girls and the Cullens? Why was that family suddenly so sociable after a year of barely speaking to anybody? From across the cafeteria, the two were beginning to attract the stares from the rest of her friend group, and when she finally made it to the table, Jasper pulling her chair out for her to take a seat, the majority of the overcrowded room was practically ogling them. A fact, in which was doing nothing to ease the anxiety that had settled in the pit of her stomach.

Setting her tray down, she slowly dropped into the hard plastic seat, shoulders tensing as she took in the perfect faces sat in front of her. Camila had of course met Alice the week previous, but she had yet to meet Jasper’s other siblings. She wasn’t sure if she should feel more or less comfortable meeting the pale strangers now that she knew their secret, but the fact was, she knew and nothing would change that now.

Feeling waves of anxiety and stress radiate from Camila, he decided now would be a time to use his powers, one that he hoped she wouldn’t be mad at him for later. He hated seeing the worry in her eyes and knew that her stress was unnecessary, so he did what he could and pushed feelings of calmness and comfortability towards her as he settled into the seat next to her.

As the anxiety lifted from her shoulders, a polite smile formed on Camila’s lips. Jasper cleared his throat from beside her, gaining the attention of his siblings. “Camila this is my family.” He gestured towards the group. “Alice you met already.” He said pointing to the pixie haired girl on the other side of Camila.

The whole family already knew of his admission, and given the circumstances he was more that content with their reactions. He hadn’t exactly known what to expect from the situation, never having dealt with anything like it before. Carlisle and Esme had been happy for him, and though this slightly unnerved him, he knew it came with good intentions. He knew what coming clean to Camila could mean for her future, for their future, but he still refused to get his hopes up. Her knowing and having the choice to ‘live’ on had no guarantee that she would make that decision, and as much as it pained him, he knew that he would never be able to make that choice for her.

Alice’s teeth shown brightly as she smiled at the girl, squealing lightly as she pulled her into a tight hug. Camila’s eyes widened, the immortal girl’s antics still surprising her despite already being on the receiving end previously. Before she was given the time to process and reciprocate the hug, Alice had pulled away and had returned to her comfortable position in her seat.

Alice was of course ecstatic, even though she had seen the whole thing happen already, because now she was free to develop their friendship. She had seen the whole thing play out and knew just how close she would grow to Camila, and like a child on Christmas morning, was practically bouncing with anticipation when he had arrived home Saturday night.

Jasper continued, stopping to roll his eyes at his sister. “This is Emmet and Rosalie.” He said, gesturing to the couple sitting at the opposite side of the table. Emmet gave a ginormous half smile half smirk to the girl, while Rosalie attempted the give a polite smile as well.

Emmet was of course laid back about the whole thing, only giving him a little bit of shit for finally finding his mate. Rosalie was surprisingly at ease with the situation, unlike her feelings towards Bella. Of course, Jasper knew why. She had always resented her immortality, having her humanity ripped away from her the way that it had been, and she wouldn’t wish that on anybody else. He knew her calm demeanor had to do with the fact that, unlike her human life, Camila had no chance of growing old. No chance of starting a family.

His heart ached at this knowledge, knowing that he would give anything he could to see Camila age into her beauty. To see her grow and start her adult life. To see her get married and have children, even if he wasn’t the one to give her that future. Unfortunately, maybe because God or whatever higher power was cruel or had a sick twisted sense of humor, she had no hope for that life.

It had been an unexpected punch to the gut to meet her mother. She was such a perfect reflection of her daughter that it was almost like he was glimpsing into that impossible future. He knew that this would be how Camila would look, given the chance. But she didn’t have that chance, and that was his best guess as to why Rosalie had refrained from giving him the same shit she had been giving Edward.

“And this is Edward.” Jasper said finally, turning to look at displeased expression of his adopted brother.

Edward had seemed slightly bitter about the situation. He obviously knew the differences between the two girls, but couldn’t help but feel slightly jealous at which the ease Jasper came by with telling Camila the truth. He himself would never wish the future of immortality onto Bella, but only wished that he didn’t have to suppress his want for the girl. He knew it was best to stay as far away from Bella as possible, hence why he had been avoiding her to the best of his abilities, but his resolve was beginning to waver.

Jasper didn’t have to deal with any of this, despite having his own struggles. Camila already knew the truth about them, and soon she would be making that decision on her own. Hell, he didn’t even have to worry about his thirst around the girl, a fact that he couldn’t help but be bitter about. Edward had always had what he considered decent self control with human blood, something that he couldn’t say the same for with Jasper, and the one person that it truly mattered for, he was at his lowest point with self control. It was cruel irony.

Despite not being able to read Edward’s mind like he could his, Jasper could feel his emotions, and he could fill in the rest himself. He didn’t want any animosity between him and his brother, but he knew that whatever Edward was feeling wouldn’t stop him from growing closer to Camila, and definitely wouldn’t stop Alice from begging him to let her spend more time with her. So that was why he had decided it was time to introduce her. What better time and place to break the ice between Camila and the rest of his family than the controlled environment of a school cafeteria? He had thought, and now, seeing the slight glare on Edward’s face, he couldn’t decide whether or not that had been a bad decision on his part.

As thoughts of anger rushed through Jasper’s mind, Edwards eyes flickered over to his. Edward’s glare softened as he processed Jasper’s internal dialog. He knew that it wasn’t his fault and he knew that it wasn’t Camila’s, but he couldn’t help how he felt. He was jealous and he was finding it difficult to hide his emotions. His eyes flitted across Jasper’s face, neck, and arms. The scars littered across his skin were a reminder to not push things with him. The crescents, nearly invisible to the human eye, were a gigantic red flag to any vampire. Neon lights that flashed bright as a warning to everyone around him to stay back or else. Although he knew that his brother would never hurt him, he also knew not to start a fight, because it would most definitely be one he would lose.

Huffing in irritation, Edward pulled out his chair, rushing to leave the cafeteria. He could try all he wanted to be civil and not start a fight, but he wasn’t about to sit there and take this torture. Over time it would get easier for him to cope, but in that moment, the wound was fresh and he needed to be far from the reminder.

Jasper sighed in annoyance, rolling his eyes once again as he let his defenses fall back down to their normal level. “Ignore him.” He muttered to the girl beside him, slinging his arm protectively around the back of her chair.

——————

“So what’s with you and Cullen?” Tyler blurted out suddenly. Camila’s head fell to look at her boots that thudded along the hallway towards their last class of the day. She could feel the blood rushing up to her cheeks and knew that it would do little to help her case if he saw the growing blush.

“What do you mean?” She asked, feigning confusion. It was a matter of time before someone started the inevitable conversation given Jasper’s display in the cafeteria that day, but she had hoped she would have a bit more time to prepare herself.

Tyler stuffed his hands into his pockets awkwardly. “Yeah, you two seemed… cozy today at lunch.” He muttered.

Camila raised her head, quirking an eyebrow at the dark skinned boy in stride beside her. “Cozy?” She asked, a hint of humor tinting her voice. Tyler was clearly bothered by this whole situation, a fact that she found humorous given the circumstance. From the fact that Tyler had asked her to prom just a few days previous, she could gather herself that he was most likely jealous of Jasper. Not that he had any reason to be. Camila had every intention to stick to her plan of staying single and as much as she was beginning to care for Jasper, she didn’t see that changing.

A scoff sounded from the boy by her side as he rolled his eyes at her teasing. “Yeah. Cozy. You sat with his family at lunch instead of us, and he was practically all over you.” He argued.

Camila laughed lightly at his words. “He was not all over me.” She argued. In fact, like usual, she had been hyper aware of every touch from the pale immortal. As usual, he had shown to be very hesitant in touching her, only giving the slight graze of his fingertips along her covered back as he lead her to the table. She of course was also extremely aware of the arm that he had slung protectively around the back of her seat after Edward’s whole display, but he had been very precise in not letting his cold skin actually touch her in any way.

Tyler groaned frustratedly. “Whatever it was, I don’t like it.” He complained.

Camila’s eyebrows knitted together. What was it with people at this school being assholes to them? The Cullen’s kept to themselves, sure, but they were never anything but polite to anyone they came into contact with. At this point, all these little comments that everybody kept making were beginning to piss her off. “And why should you not liking it mean anything to me?” She asked incredulously. Sure, she wanted to make friends, and be nice, but she was starting to become defensive over Jasper and she wasn’t just going to stand there and take everybody’s bullshit. Because that’s what it was. Complete and utter bullshit.

Tyler’s eyes widened slightly in surprise. He hadn’t expected her to respond in that way, never seeing her angry before. “I mean, he’s kind of creepy isn’t he? I’m just trying to look out for you. He doesn’t seem… good.” He said trailing off towards the end as he took in the expression of anger growing more and more prevalent on her face.

She had to bite back a snide remark as she tried to process how she could respond without sounding like a total bitch. An awkward silence rung between the two teens before she decided that she didn’t really care anymore. If he was going to give unsolicited advice to her when he barely knew her then she would respond accordingly. “No offense Tyler, but I didn’t ask for your shitty advice. I’m a big girl, I can look out for myself, thanks.” She said finitely.

Pushing her aching legs to move her forward at a faster pace, she let out an internal sigh of relief as the door to her calculous class came into view. Lunch had gone well, all things considered. Despite Edward’s little display, the rest of Jasper’s family had welcomed her with open arms. While the conversation mostly consisted of small talk and them asking her questions about herself, she could tell that they were all genuinely nice people.

Alice had invited her over for the following weekend, in which Camila had immediately agreed to without thinking. Now that she had been given the time to think about the implications of the invite, she realized that she would be meeting their adoptive mother and seeing Carlisle. While she knew Carlisle fairly well, given meeting him the week prior, she realized how nervous she was to meet Esme. Jasper had talked the woman up so highly, but she couldn’t help but feel her nerves eating away at her. She would be meeting his mother soon, ‘adopted’ or not and it was only natural to have that kind of reaction.

Jasper, as usual, was already seated at their assigned table by the time she had arrived to the classroom. Camila flitted to the back of the room to her seat, letting her body drop into the confines of the cool plastic, as she let out a heavy sigh.

“Are you okay?” Jasper asked, concern lacing his voice. It was normal for her be exhausted by the end of the school day, but he could also feel her anger and frustration. The feelings set off warning bells in his mind and he was immediately on alert to what had upset her.

Camila rolled her eyes, raking her slim fingers through the long dark strands of her hair. “Tyler Crowley is an asshole.” She said simply, annoyance still evident on her face as she recalled their conversation that had just taken place moments ago.

His eyes flickered over to where said boy had just entered the classroom, narrowing as he took in the sight. “What did he say?” He asked, immediately defensive over the girl.

“He apparently has an issue with you and ‘just wants to look out for me’.” She said, yanking her workbook and and pencil case from her backpack and slamming them down on the desk.

Jasper’s shoulder’s drooped at her words as he hummed in reply. He couldn’t even be mad. What Tyler said was clearly justified, whether or not Camila had realized. She should be warned about him. Just because he didn’t thirst for her blood didn’t mean that he wasn’t a danger towards her. Didn’t mean that he couldn’t hurt her, even if it wasn’t intensional. Didn’t mean that he wasn’t a monster at the end of the day.

Hearing his near silent response, Camila turned her head to see him looking down slightly defeated, eyes refusing to meet her own. “Jasper.” She said, trying and failing to get him to look at her. “Jasper.” She repeated, grasping at his hand that laid in a tight fist at his thigh.

Electricity shot through her fingers as they brushed the marble skin of his clenched knuckles, but she pushed on. “Can you look at me, please?” She asked, her soft voice contrasting the anger that had filled it just moments ago.

His amber eyes flickered up to meet hers. As much as he wanted to sulk in that moment, he wanted more to give her what she wanted. Her eyes softened as she saw the pain that filled his. They were always filled with pain, but this was different. More of an inner torment and seeing it made her chest ache.

She turned his fist over in her palm, nudging the fingers apart so she could intertwine them with her own. “He’s full of shit, Jazz. I know you would never hurt me.” She said, voice softly ringing in his ears.

The pain in his heart grew at her words. He didn’t deserve her. She was too perfect for his damned self and he knew it, but that didn’t stop him from being grateful that she was there. It didn’t stop him from selfishly wanting her. He pulled their intertwined fingers up to his lips were he laid a soft kiss on the back of her palm, thanking her for her kindness. Thanking her for her comfort.

The touch of his chilled lips on her skin sent her heart into overdrive, and knowing that he could he hear his effect on her didn’t help the blush that was creeping onto her cheeks. She had expected him to drop her hold after that, but instead, their hands remained, bound together and laying gently in his lap.

Class continued, the two working together on finishing the next page in their worksheet. Jasper of course could finish the work in less than a minute, but anything that gave him the excuse to talk to Camila he would gladly do. She sat there, eyebrows furrowed as she worked over a particularly difficult problem on the sheet. Normally, she would have no problem solving the equations, but today her mind was wandering too much. She sighed, giving up as she let her pencil clatter onto the chipped veneer of the desk.

“Do you want to come over to my house today?” She asked suddenly. Clearly seeing that she had caught him off guard, she continued. “I have more questions.” She clarified.

Jasper groaned internally. As much as he would love to avoid the inevitable conversation, he also knew that it had to happen at some point. At least he would get to spend more time with her, a definite plus. “Sure, I can just drive us after class if you’d like.” He offered. Alice had told him to drive separately to school that day, and now it was clear why. He would have to thank her later.

Camila nodded, pulling her flip phone from her bag and trying to discreetly type a quick text to her mother letting her know that Jasper would drive her home. Doing so was a bit difficult to do one handed, but she wasn’t about to take her other hand out of his grasp.

The remainder of the class trudged on slowly to Camila’s dismay. Now that she knew that she would be able to ask all of the questions that had been racing through her mind, she couldn’t seem to clear her head of them. Finally, a bell rang shrilly throughout the class, signaling the end of the school day. An unspoken agreement stood between her and Jasper as they both proceeded to pack away their belongings without undoing the grip on each other’s hands.

She wasn’t sure what the hand holding meant to him or even herself, but she didn’t exactly care. She already had to constantly remind herself of her promise to keep any romance at bay, but hand holding didn’t necessarily have to mean that. It was comforting, having his cold palm pressed against hers, and despite her internal screaming at herself that it was a bad idea, she didn’t want to pull away. So there they were, walking down the hallway, hand in hand, attracting even more stares than usual.

Camila let out a sigh as they reached the parking lot, the cool air feeling nice on her feverish skin. Puffs of vapor swirled in front of her mouth as steady breaths of hot air left her parted lips. Jasper had to rip his eyes away from the sight to make sure that he was walking in the right direction. He needed to pull his shit together. Kissing her hand had been bad enough, but he had to stop himself from thinking too much about her lips. Her soft warm plump lips. Jesus Christ, STOP.

He wished so badly in that moment that he could’ve kissed her. Regardless of the numerous bystanders. However, he knew that it wasn’t safe. He didn’t trust himself enough not to end up accidentally hurting her. He didn’t even know if she would’ve kissed him back for fuck’s sake. And here he was feeling like an absolute creep again.

Pulling himself from his thoughts, he pulled the passenger door of his car open for her. Reluctantly, she let loose of his grasp, immediately feeling an emptiness without it’s presence. She settled into the plush bucket seat, pulling her bag into her lap as he shut the door softly behind her.

Flitting quickly, or as quick as seemed human, to the driver’s side, Jasper slid in and turned the key in the ignition. Shifting the car into reverse, he backed out of the parking spot and shifted back into drive as he sped out onto the street. He internally thanked his past self for buying a manual transmission before reaching over to grasp Camila’s hand once more.

Camila let her hair fall in front of her face, hoping that the curtain of dark strands hid the smile that she couldn’t wipe away. For someone who was so adamant on not dating, she kept finding herself being giddy whenever he touched her. What was she a twelve year-old? He was just holding her hand, she shouldn’t feel like a swarm of butterflies was flying around in her stomach.

The drive to Camila’s home hadn’t taken long, and by the time they arrived at the small house, he mother’s mini van was still absent from the driveway. She had replied earlier letting her know that she was going to go grocery shopping since she had time before she had to go to work, and Camila was happy to see that she hadn’t returned yet. One less awkward interaction with Jasper and her parents would always be a good thing.

As they stepped through the threshold of the home, she found herself wishing she had cleaned her room. She hadn’t thought of the mess she had left behind before she had invited him over, albeit a small mess. Either way, she couldn’t help herself but try and hurriedly pick up the few pieces of clothing scattered around the room once they made it through the doorway.

Once she was content with her ‘cleaning’ she shut the door softly behind her and plopped down on her mattress, the springs squeaking slightly in protest. Scooting backwards until her back met the wall, she patted the empty space beside her, gesturing for Jasper to join her. On one hand, she almost wanted to sit out on the couch in the living room, as it would probably seem less intimate that way, but she also didn’t want to be interrupted by her mother when she inevitably returned home from the store. So there they were sitting side by side awkwardly on her worn out used mattress and now she didn’t know how to start the conversation.

Sensing her hesitation, Jasper spoke up. “So, you have questions.” He said, wanting to end the torture of waiting any longer. If she was going to run away screaming, he would rather it be sooner than later, because the anticipation was slowly eating away at him.

Camila sucked in a breath. “How old are you?” She blurted out. Jasper groaned, rubbing his hands down his face. He should’ve expected her to jump right to the point, but, somehow, he hadn’t. “You said it was a conversation for another day. It’s another day now.” She reasoned.

“I know. I know.” He said with a sigh. “I’m just really old, Darlin’.” He said, hoping the nickname would distract her. It didn’t.

She scoffed. “That’s not an answer.” She said bluntly.

Jasper closed his eyes, sucking in a breath as he braced for the impact of her reaction. “I’m a hundred and sixty-one.” He muttered lowly. Utter silence followed.

Camila didn’t know what she expected, if the age he had given was younger or older than she had thought it would be, but hearing him say such a precise age made everything seem way more real. She couldn’t find the words to say in response, so instead, she reached over to grasp his hand once more, letting him know that she wasn’t disgusted like he had thought.

“Will you tell me your story?” She asked, not being able to help her intrigue.

His bright gold eyes met her emerald irises. “It’s kind of gruesome.” He warned, trying his best to prolong the inevitable admission of his past, but knowing that it was just that. Inevitable.

“I want to know.” She said simply. “If you’re willing to tell me.” She clarified.

Jasper was fucked and he knew it. Anything that she wanted, he would give her in a heartbeat, but she would hate him after this. “I didn't have quite the same upbringing as my adopted siblings.” He said, reaching his free hand over reluctantly, to roll up the sleeve on the arm that she held.

She wasn’t sure how she hadn’t noticed them before, but there they were. Hundreds of crescent shaped scars shimmering lightly in the dim lighting emitted from her ceiling fan. Now that she knew what to look for, she could see the scars were scattered across every piece of visible skin. Down his arms, onto the hand that was holding hers, a few up his neck to his handsome face. “Are those… bites?” She asked incredulously.

“Battle scars.” He responded, a small smirk gracing his lips. “I was seventeen when I joined the Confederate Army.” He said, pausing when he saw her grimace. “I know. I wish I could say that I didn’t know what I was fighting for, or against, but I knew enough. I’m not proud of it.” He said hanging is head in shame.

“I was the youngest major in the Texas cavalry. All without having seen any real battle.” He continued.

Camila perked up. “I knew that was a Texas accent.” She said smirking at him, gaining a small smile in repose. Leave it to her to try and lighten the mood as soon as it gets dark.

Still, he pushed on, knowing that it was about to become a much darker conversation. “I was riding back to Galveston...after evacuating a column of women and children. When I saw her.” He said dauntingly. “I immediately offered her my aid.” He continued.

“Maria was creating an army. A newborn vampire army.” He clarified. “Our kind are at their strongest in their first year after changing. Their human blood still lingers in their veins and gives them more speed and strength.” He explained.

“Newborn armies were very common in the South, and cost a brutal battles for territory.” He continued, losing himself in the story. “Maria won them all. She was smart, careful. And she had me. I was the second in command. My abilities to control emotions served her well.” He said, looking down to the warm hand he still had clutched in his own, trying to find comfort in her touch.

“I trained her newborns. An endless occupation since she never let them live beyond their first year.” He said, cringing from the memory. “It was my job to dispose of them.” He said, voice thick with emotion. It pained him to remember what he had done. To remember their pain. “I could feel everything they felt.”

The crease between Camila’s brows deepened. It clearly hurt for him to recall these memories, and she found herself wishing that she could take that pain away.

“I thought what Maria and I had was love. But I was her puppet. She pulled the strings. I didn't know there was another way. Until I found Alice in 1948. Now she'd seen me coming, of course.” He paused, remembering that this would wouldn’t make much sense to Camila.

He gathered his thoughts quickly, trying explain the best he could. “She has visions, of possible futures. They change when decisions are made, but she knew when and where to find me.” He smiled slightly. “She saw you, even though she conveniently didn’t warn me.” He explained.

“I don't know what I'd have become without her. I’d done horrible, unspeakable things, and she helped me get past that. My family choses to feed off of animal blood rather than human blood, but it wasn’t always like that for me. I’ve killed innocent people. I’m not a… good person.” He ended his story with a sigh, unsure of how she was feeling.

Her mind was filled with conflicting emotions that he couldn’t quite place all together. “I completely understand if you want me to leave.” He said, moving to pull his hand away from hers.

Her grip tightened as her eyes shot up to his. “No, stay. Please.” She muttered. She knew how her reaction must seem. In truth, she had almost expected worse. As bad as his story was, at least he didn’t actively kill people. It was a horrible argument, she knew, but after being given the rest of the weekend to let her mind wander, she had tried to prepare herself for the worst.

Her silence was agony and he couldn’t help himself when he asked. “Can you please tell me what you’re thinking?”

Camila sighed, bringing her eyes back to his. “I’m not going to sit here and act like what you did wasn’t wrong, because it was. But I’m also not going to actively try and make you feel any worse for it. You’ve had over fifty years to regret what you did, and you clearly do. I’m not going to judge you for something that you wish you could’ve changed, not when I know you’re a good person now.” She said.

Jasper shook his head in disbelief. How was she this forgiving? It seemed impossible. He was sure she would be disgusted with him, but here she was forgiving him for something he couldn’t even forgive himself for. “How are you not terrified of me?” He asked.

She looked deep into his eyes as she answered. “I’m not scared because I know you won’t do anything to hurt me.” She said simply.

“I could hurt you on accident. Very easily.” He argued, looking ashamed. “I could crush you just by hugging you too tightly. I know you don’t understand fully, but it would be so easy that I actively have to try and not hurt you.” He said, a deep frown on his face.

Camila’s eyebrows furrowed as she brought her free hand down to trace the crescent shaped scars that littered his arm. “I don’t know what to tell you. I trust you, that’s the best answer I can give you, Jasper. You need to try and have trust in yourself.” She answered.

Jasper shook his head, baffled that she had so much trust in him to begin with. He didn’t deserve it. He didn’t deserve her. Seeing the sadness still in his eyes, she rushed, trying to find a change of topic to lighten the mood from the darkness that it had reached. “So, if you can manipulate emotions and Alice sees visions of the future, does anyone else in your family have a ‘gift’.” She asked, curiosity peaking once again.

Jasper was thankful for the change of topic, already feeling himself beginning to spiral from the continuous self hatred. “Yeah, Edward is the only other one in our family. He can, um, read minds… I know it sounds ridiculous.” He said, slightly humiliated at how fictional everything sounded.

“Oh god. That’s… embarrassing.” She muttered, her mind beginning to wander. Edward had no doubt read her mind and heard her thoughts of Jasper. Those were thoughts she didn’t even want to admit to herself and now he definitely had knew all about them.

Suddenly her mind went to his exit at lunch. Was that why he had left? Was it something she had thought that had set him off? “What happened with him at lunch today?” She asked.

Rolling his eyes at the memory, Jasper tried to form the most comprehensible explanation. “He’s jealous that I can tell you the truth and he can’t tell Bella.” He said simply.

“Bella Swan?” Camila asked.

Jasper nodded. “He… has a particular interest in her. He’s been trying to avoid her because he knows that it won’t end well, and he’s jealous that I don’t have to do the same with you.” He explained.

“Why is it different with me?” She asked, trying to ignore the implication that Jasper had an interest in her.

His eyes trailed across the bare walls of her bedroom, looking anywhere but at her as he continued. “He has a really hard time with the scent of her blood, while yours is different for me.” He said.

“Because of the leukemia?” She asked.

Jasper nodded again. “It’s more dangerous for her than it is for you because of that. It’s hard for him to even be in the same room as her. Either way it would end badly.” He explained.

“End badly how? Surely it could end in more ways than just him killing her right?” She asked. She knew the subject had to be touchy and sensitive, but she couldn’t keep herself from asking.

Here it was. The scariest topic of them all. If he didn’t handle this just right, if he didn’t use the right words, then there went his chance of a future with her. He gulped, mustering the courage to speak. “He could kill her or he could change her. Both which he doesn’t want to do.”

Camila’s eyed widened. She hadn’t even thought of that. Changing into a vampire. She wasn’t sure why her mind hadn’t gone there, but she hadn’t even considered that a possibility. She couldn’t help it when her mind wandered to what this could mean for her. He had said it like he was trying to imply something else entirely. He had to know the possible endings. Surely Alice had seen.

“Are there more possible endings for me? Futures where I don’t die from the leukemia?” She asked. She had to know. She had spent a year coming to terms with the fact that her life would be cut short, but now she wasn’t sure. She knew that her illness would in no doubt end up taking her human life, but what if she turned. What if she changed into something else where the cancer didn’t effect her anymore? What if she wasn’t human anymore? She had to know, because suddenly, after a year of withering away, she might have another option. She might have hope.

Jasper turned his eyes back to hers. This was the make it or break it moment. He sucked in a breath, feeling a tightness in his chest regardless of the fact that he didn’t need the oxygen.

And he spoke. “Yes… Alice has seen it."

Next Chapter

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