#du'met x reader

[blueberrypancakesworld]

Hello, Du'met x gn reader is an artist who sometimes doesn't finish his work, I do it myself, for some reason the sketch turns out to be more beautiful than the final result 😭

Two Artist

warning : gn reader, fluff, artist block

masterlist

Info : Hello dear @kedamonomonoligh I hope you like it even if it's a little short. Have fun reading

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For hours now they were looking at the sheet in front of them. It was a picture which they wanted to hang up to make the dining room more beautiful. A picture which showed the lighthouse in a sea on waves. ,,It doesn't fit," Y/N muttered and again erased a few of the lines, actually they wanted to have the picture ready for hours, but Y/N just came to it.

They had been working on it for hours or days and still Y/N didn't dare to finish it. Somehow it looks better this way they thought and lowered the brush again. It just didn't fit no matter how much color they would take, the waves and the lighthouse just wouldn't come out right.

Giving a sigh, Y/N closed their paintbox and was about to finish when Y/N heard the door open. ,,Hello, my dear," they murmured and moments later felt his hands on their shoulders.

Y/N felt his eyes go from the picture to them and then to the colors. ,,It just doesn't fit," they said and Du'met tilted his head slightly before he walked around his partner and took the picture in his hands. ,,It's not finished yet," Y/N muttered, defiantly nudging a brush that rolled across the table.

But Du'met shook his head, took the picture and disappeared with it to an empty frame. Y/N heard his voice and saw him hanging the picture in the place where it was supposed to be.

Looking at the picture and rising, they stood in front of it, tilting their head slightly, and weighed the picture. ,,A sketch is the true art of an artist" his partner heard him murmur before he wrapped his hands around them and pulled them close.

A smile appeared on Y/N's lips as they thought about his words and looked at the picture. ,,My poet" they said delightedly and turned to him before giving him a kiss. Two artists with the sciozze of love.

[nelwen-e]

I'll take care of you - Hector Munday x f!Reader. (Du'Met x f!Reader)

English is not my first langage.

Reader is female, but there is no physical description of her, nor background except for the established relationship they had. I hope this help people to imagine the character they want.

NSFW ? (see TW)

TW : Kidnapping ; sexual harassment (forced kisses) ; implied murder ; mention of blood.

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A warm hand slid down her stomach. The woman turned slowly to the man who had crept up beside her.

"You're home early," she whispered.

He merely placed a kiss on her forehead and pulled her closer to him. She kissed the corner of his mouth and hugged him.

"Good day?"

The man stroked her cheek.

"I have a lot of work to do, I have to get up early tomorrow and I'll stay home for the night. I'll make it up to you, don't worry, I'll take care of you as soon as we're quiet."

The woman grunted slightly and nestled her head in her companion's neck. She let out a small smile of satisfaction at the gentle touch of the caresses on her loins and cheek.

"Good night."

The man didn't answer and delicately caught her jaw in his hand. The woman opened her eyes and looked into the hidden darkness of her companion.

“I love you, you know that?" he asked in a whisper.

— I know I love you too Hector. Rest well."

She placed a kiss on his lips before curling up in his arms.

When she woke up, Hector was gone, and her day went smoothly until the next day.

She was finishing her laundry when the sound of the key opening the main door told her that Hector had returned.

“I'm here," she exclaimed, picking up her basket. You're home early!"

She saw from the corner of her eye the build of her companion. He was staring at her without moving.

"Is everything all right?" she asked, turning back to him.

She froze slightly under his gaze. He was pale, his gaze fixed on her, almost lifeless. The woman noticed the dark stains on the sleeves of his suit and the light red drops on his polished shoes.

She dropped her basket and rushed towards him.

"Hector? Are you hurt?"

She put her hand against his chest and quickly looked him over. He remained stoic, looking at her without moving. The woman swallowed slightly.

"Hector? Are you all right?"

Hector raised his hand to her face and stroked her cheek. The woman noticed the blood-reddened flesh of his fingers, mixed with light black streaks. Powder. A slight panic gripped her heart.

"I'll get my first aid kit. I'll be right back."

It was possible for her to reach the phone on the way to the bathroom and call 911.

The woman took a few steps back before walking through the door and past Hector. With a quick movement, he grabbed her wrist and pressed her against his chest. Out of the corner of her eye, she felt his free arm pull something out of his pocket, then a sharp pain in her neck.

She tried to scream, a small object hit the ground, and he covered her mouth with his hand. Only a muffled scream came from her throat. Walls and objects began to dance before her eyes, disappearing into the darkness.

Everything around her was dark, her whole body wrapped in a dull torpor. Her eyelids seemed so heavy, her breathing so shallow. Gradually the place became slightly lighter, and irregular jolts agitated her. No, it was not her. Her body was moving in an irregular rhythm. She could not turn her head, nor open her mouth. Something was stuck to her lips. Heavy air filled her nose. The buzzing in her ears ceased slightly, and a strangely familiar sound reached her. The rolling of a car. Her eyes finally got used to the darkness and she guessed that she was in the trunk of a car. The woman tried to feel the walls that enclosed her in the narrow space, but she could not move. She found herself bound hand and foot.

She let her head roll to the side. There was nothing she could do.

It seemed to her that an eternity passed before the car took what seemed to her to be a dirt road, the jolts became more irregular, more violent. Then the car stopped and the woman felt her body roll slightly into the boot. Soon the engine noise stopped, a door slammed, and she heard the muffled sound of footsteps. The trunk opened and the cold air enveloped her. Hector stood over her. With a powerful gesture, he grabbed her and swung her over his shoulder. The woman's whole body stiffened at once, her numb muscles from the drug gradually waking up and mingling with the aches and pains from her time in the trunk.

The woman let herself be carried without saying anything, Hector held her firmly and she could see nothing around her except the cold, ominous call of a forest. She also perceived a small wooden hut, bordered by a large workbench. Hector entered the house and switched on a flickering light. The door closed, and the sound of a locked lock clutched her stomach.

The woman allowed herself to be laid on a mattress like a sack of potatoes, which drew a muffled groan of pain from him. Hector ran a hand over his face, wiping the tears from his cheeks.

"Everything is going to be all right. Don't be afraid. Everything is going to be all right."

The captive could feel her heart beating strongly in her rib cage. The effects of the drug were slowly leaving her body, and she was slowly regaining control. Her mouth was so dry, her muscles aching, her vision obstructed by tears, and her breath short with panic. Hector, on the other hand, seemed so calm. He ran a hand over his head, then turned his back and walked out of the cabin. He returned in a few minutes, loaded with bags.

"Don't be afraid."

He began to rummage through the bags and prepare food in the cabin's tiny kitchen. When the food was ready, he approached her with a plate and placed it on the floor before sitting down beside her.

"There's nobody around for miles. Don't bother screaming."

He ran his fingers over her cheek and pulled the tape from her lips.

"Hector, please."

The man tilted his head slightly to one side and contemplated her for a moment before reaching for the plate. He placed a spoonful near her mouth.

"Eat, you'll feel better.

— Let me go Hector, I beg you. I won't say anything, I swear.

— Eat."

With a movement, he grabbed her jaw with his free hand and forced the spoon into her mouth. The warmth of the food felt good for a moment.

Hector," she swallowed, swallowing the food. Please, my love, stop. It's not too late to stop this, whatever it is.

— I'm afraid it is. Eat."

The captive's breathing quickened slightly. Reasoning with him seemed pointless. He gave her spoonful which she spat out directly. She felt Hector's fingers tighten on her jaw.

"Don't touch me, Hector! Let me go!"

Her voice choked with tears, her body jerked and her lungs tightened. The captive felt Hector's two hands clasp her face and immobilise her. He forced her to look at him.

"I will not let you go, my love, not ever.”

He placed a long kiss on her forehead, as tenderly as he was used to. The feel of her lips made him gag. He slid his lips over her face, kissed her skin tenderly, drying the tears on her cheeks, stroking her chin. Hector's warm breath left her feeling uneasy.

“Hector, why?" she sobbed.

— Don't cry my love. Everything will be fine, I promise. I have a work to complete.

— Stop Hector, stop...

— Shhh... Eat, get your strength back.”

He stroked her cheek tenderly.

"It will take a little time, but we will soon be at peace, my love. Eat and don't worry. I'll take good care of you.”

He placed a long kiss on her lips, humid with tears.

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Hope you liked it !

It is set before Open Door : link, which is set before Mechanically : link.

Here is a gn!reader x Du'Met !. Silhouette : link.

Still hope to write a Du'Lie story (I really need to watch again a gameplay of the game to write Charlie)

If you have any prompts with the f!Reader (no description of her) don't hesitate to comment. Can't promise to write perfectly, but I will try my best to work with your ideas at least.

[nelwen-e]

Open Door - Du'Met x f!Reader

English is not my first langage (I write in french, and I translate after, it may contain weird formulas and sentences)

Also, I am not used to write sex scene.

It is set before this short story : Mechanically.

It is set after this story : I'll take care of you.

Reader is female, but there is no physical description of her, nor background except for the established relationship they had. I hope this help people to imagine the character they want.

TW :Murder (ofc, it's The Devil in Me) ; forced relationship ; forced sex ; kidnapping ; torture ; mention of blood

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Her eyes stared aimlessly at the clock. He had only been gone a few minutes. She didn't know what he was doing, but the late Lucinda's articulated body did not bode well for her. She shivered before trying again to open the front door. It was locked. Just like every night. She looked at the windows, they gave her little hope. The woman looked upstairs, empty of any occupants. No luck. She went back downstairs, giving up all hope.

The captive resigned herself to going to the bedroom. The bedroom, she could not use the term ‘their room’. There was a time, in another life, another place, when she welcomed Hector to her room with great pleasure. In retrospect, all the evenings spent at her place, and his reluctance to go to his, should have tipped her off... But how could she imagine the man she loved stalking and murdering innocent people on the streets of Chicago?

Her gaze fell on the door under the stairs and her heart stopped dead. The heavy padlock was loose. Hector had not pressed it hard enough. A long shiver ran through the woman as she reached for the lock. With a slow movement, she touched the steel and the lock opened fully. The woman blew out a deep breath and released the object from the lock before opening the cellar door. Darkness awaited.

With one hand she reached for the light switch. The yellowish light from the bulb revealed a wooden staircase. She had never set foot in the cellar. Hector seemed to store canned goods and tools there. The steps creaked under her feet, and she held her breath, unsure of what was really there.

Nothing awful. A long sigh of relief escaped her lungs. The cellar was good for storage, a shelf of canned goods, pasta and rice. Wooden boards from various sizes, and a workbench, perfectly tidy, and between them, a door. The woman slowly approached and turned the handle. The door opened and a light shone on a long corridor cut into the earth. The captive looked at the workbench, where a few tools lay. Was carrying a weapon a good idea? Hector was a former federal agent, imposing, muscular and had no trouble controlling her in the past. Did a weapon even stand a chance against him? She grabbed a screwdriver and slid it between her hip and her trousers, then entered the corridor.

After some time, a long staircase ended the corridor, which led to another door, locked on her side. This one opened onto a strange interior. The woman bit her lip, the light was subdued, the walls half-wooded and carpeted, the floor covered with a dark wooden floor. The corridor was narrow, and the door was the end of it. She followed the corridor with apprehension as it led to yet another locked door on her side, she opened it. This time, the door opened onto a large hallway that spanned several floors. The decoration was not from this time. But she had no time to dwell on it. She saw the main entrance to the building and her heart almost gave out, imposing iron gates separated her from the exit. The captive threw her head back and swore. A frightened scream echoed through the building. Her blood ran cold. Muffled noises were heard on the floor. Two double doors were open not far down the hall, and she trotted over to them.

She put her hand to her mouth in fright and her stomach tightened. Five dummies were seated, simulating a dinner party, unknown voices of discussion emanating from them. She returned to the hall. The floor didn't seem safe, so she went to a window and started to attack the glass with the screwdriver. After a few minutes her heart missed a beat, the staircase leading upstairs cracked far behind her. The woman turned her head.

An imposing man in an old suit was staring at her from the bottom of the stairs. His face was hidden under a strange mask and a round hat, but she recognised him instantly. Hector. She squeezed the screwdriver in her clammy hand.

"I'm sorry, Hector. I'm sorry." Tears rolled down her cheeks.

The man did not answer, and he took a step towards her. Her body tensed and she moved closer to the centre, diagonally to him. She didn't want to be backed up against a wall. In the great hall, she had a small chance to run. Maybe go back the same way? Go home and wait for him to come back and hope he wouldn't do anything to her? Was he just angry? The man who approached her said nothing, his gait was slow but sure, only his fingers moved slightly. He cracked his knuckles. She knew that Hector did this when he was hesitant. Was he hesitating to kill her? Perhaps it was the best option for her?

He was only a few metres away from her now. The woman pointed to the screwdriver in front of her.

"Don't come near me, Hector.

He stopped dead in his tracks and cocked his head to the side. Then he took a few steps. He was only a metre away from her. Suddenly there was a loud noise behind one of the doors in the hall. Hector turned slightly towards the source of the noise. The woman didn't think, she ran past him, towards the stairs. Perhaps she had a chance to escape from him upstairs?

As she passed him, he reached out to grab her, she threw the screwdriver in his face and he instinctively shielded his face, allowing her to escape.

The woman climbed the stairs at full speed and went through the first door she saw. She didn't know what she was doing, she didn't know if she had a real chance of escaping, but she ran down the corridors. Several rooms passed before her eyes, each one gloomier than the next. The place was a real labyrinth. She seemed to pass through rooms and corridors that she had already been through, but which did not lead to the same place. Eventually she entered a large room where she saw a figure sitting in a chair, facing a window. It did not look good, the shape reminded her of Lucinda. A foreign voice was coming from it, it seemed to be the same as one of the mannequins in the dining room. She decided not to approach it.

She walked around the room, scanning the windows. Too high, too dark to be an option. She went out another door and down yet another corridor. Hasty footsteps were heard behind her. She turned and found herself face to face with an unknown man. His eyes were bloodshot, his face full of terror, he was panting like a devil.

"You! Who are you?

-I...

-You are in league with him! You monster!"

The woman did not have time to protest as the man threw himself at her. She tried to back away but fell to the ground and was hit in the face. She had no time to defend herself or to fight back, as the man was lifted off the ground and slammed against a wall. Hector.

The woman watched in horror as her former lover stabbed the man who had just attacked her several times. Blood spurted everywhere. She could not hold back a scream as the victim's cries were choked with blood. She got up hurriedly and fled. The woman ran for a few minutes through the corridors and found the door that led to the hall. She opened the door violently and bumped into someone. A gloved hand caught her as she fell.

"No!" she shouted.

The woman could say nothing more as Hector slung a bag over her head, grabbed her by the neck before pressing her back against his chest and locking her arms. She couldn't see and struggled for a few seconds before ceasing all movement.

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry Hector. Forgive me."

The former agent did not answer. He led her down the corridors and through the doors. Finally, Hector forced her to sit in a chair. He took the bag off her head.

She found herself in front of some surveillance screens, she didn't dare turn her head, but the grey metal walls were quite different from the squalid corridors she had walked through. Hector finally let go of her and walked away for a few moments before returning to bind her hands.

"I'm sorry Hector, I'm so sorry," she repeated mechanically, not knowing if this would calm her kidnapper.

She felt Hector's hand slip over her neck and squeeze slightly. Tears rolled down her cheeks. The hand moved up her cheek, over her mouth and wiped the tears under her right eye with his thumb. The captive felt the mass of the agent behind her move, and his breath on her neck. Her gaze turned slightly, and she saw the mask near her face. His eyes, so unusually dull and lifeless, stared at her strangely. His thumb moved back down to her mouth, parting her lips, then back down to her neck. He gently stroked her neck before moving up to her mouth. She saw his head bend towards her, and he nestled his masked face in the crook of her neck. Hector's breathing was calm. The woman's breathing was also calming, but still tense. She felt Hector freeze as a small, steady ringing sound came from the monitors. He stood up and walked over to the noise and pressed a button.

A live video was displayed. Two people were locked in two different glass rooms, facing each other. She heard voices echoing near the monitors. Terrified voices.

"No, no, no," the captive whispered.

Hector turned his head towards her, then approached. He took her head between his two hands and stroked her cheeks. Then he went behind her, grabbed her shoulders and put her on her feet. He wrapped his arm around her, passing it between her bound arms and her belly, just below her chest.

Panicked voices were punctuated by cries of panic. Hector slipped his hand under her shirt and stroked her belly, his other hand sliding down her hip. She swallowed. The screaming subsided slightly. Did they think they could get away with it? The woman felt Hector's left hand unbutton her jeans and then slip into her panties. She closed her eyes. His right hand felt her breast, while his left hand slid to her crotch. The woman gasped at the stimulating hand.

Suddenly the voices panicked again. She moaned. Hector stopped caressing her breast, and she felt Hector pull down his trousers. With a sharp jerk, he pressed her against him and sat down on the chair behind him. She felt his hard member on her bare back. With his free hand, he grabbed her neck and lower face, forcing her to look at the screens. With his left hand, he continued his work between her legs.

The voices turned to screaming as drops fell from the ceiling of one of the rooms. One of the people held his arm in pain and threw himself at a button. Hector let his fingers slip into her, and the acid rain became a little heavier in the other room.

"Please, Hector, stop," she whispered in pain.

He continued more vigorously until a wave of pleasure consumed her. Tears flowed profusely down her cheeks. He withdrew his hand and lifted her. She felt Hector's member sliding into her. The person undergoing the shower pressed their button. The other person screamed in pain. She sobbed. Hector set a fast pace that was unusual for him. The screams alternated with the video, as the prisoners rained the acid back at each other harder and harder. Hector growled in pleasure near her ear, his left arm pinning her against him, while his right hand paralysed her face. The woman could feel herself being pulled out of her body by Hector's brutal movements and the cries of pain and despair from his victims. Her vision blurred; the sounds became muffled. One voice stopped screaming, the other was still screaming in hoarse pain and crying. Hector growled. The voice faded away. Hector pressed her hard against him as he finished inside her. He continued to hold her as if her life depended on it for a few seconds before releasing his embrace. The cold touch of his mask woke her slightly from her lethargy, then she felt the touch of his nose and mouth against her neck. With a misty eye, she saw his mask on the table in front of her. He placed a long kiss on her neck, then she felt his breath near her ear. Then his deep voice came in a low breath.

"Join me, my love."

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I hope you liked !

Here is another short story, which take place shortly after Mechanically : link.

Open Door is set after I'll take care of you : link.

As I said, I tried to remain as neutral as possible regarding the reader description, so you can imagine the character as you want. Which was weird for me, as I found a bit repetetive the use of "woman", "she", "captive". Also the story has less descriptions than I'm used too, I guess it would be too long for this kind of story. (I am a sucker for long descriptions ; I was brought up on classic French authors ( I am talking to you Balzac and Hugo)

Also I have a entire background about the character, although I do have some plotholes (cannot get around the fake death and dental iditenfication).

I want to try to write a non-gendered person, with no reference to body description, with Du'Met as "love" interest. The style would be different though, and I need to work on the idea to make the text flow.

Also a Du'Lie story, but I need to watch again a let's play of the game to immmerse myself with Charlie.

[blueberrypancakesworld]

Granthem Du'met x fem (introverted) reader who doesn't understand jokes (I don't understand why some people laugh off my serious face while I work)

Fluff

Fandom : The Dark pictures, the devil in me

First of all thank you for the request dear @kedamonomonoligh I totally understand what you mean because I also have a serious face (my friends always call it a death stare). So I hope you like this little One-Shot and everyone else too. And as always have fun reading :)

Understanding a joke

warning : no use of Y/n, reader is female, fluff, cuddle , and a bad joke, implied death and murder

masterlist

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The old village with its many traps had many secrets besides the things mentioned. Victims, the remains of the long dead, or the many machine parts that lay well placed everywhere. The day with its sun brought only limited light into the whole house, but it did not reach the many lower floors and hidden rooms. It shouldn't, it would only ruin the atmosphere and that was the most important thing. The guests should lose themselves in the old house, not be able to get the fear out of their bodies.

That was the best way to get the best voices and recordings of the screaming and crying. Her steps kept moving through the room on the way to the main centre, but even though there was no smile on her lips, she was not annoyed. In fact, she was looking forward to working with Du'met, her mentor and friend, on a new trap and a new recording.

New guests were due to arrive in a few days and she was already looking forward to slipping into the role of Holmes alongside Du'met. Taking the mask and the knife in hand to drive the poor ignorant into the traps. It was something she liked.

Putting on the mask, hunting down her victims, not holding back. Using her energy on people without having to retreat when she got tired of them. Already feeling the anticipation she arrived in the main room and saw that the older one was not there yet. Placing the object in her hand on one of the tables, she went over to the monitors and looked at the various screens.

From the dining area with the large table, to the bar with the animatronic bartender before she spotted Du'met in the corridors on the way to her. She knew she could have told him something with the microphone, but why? He would be here any minute.

Leaning back in her chair, she reached into her pocket and looked at herself in the reflection of the sharpened blade. Her expression had not changed, generally it did not. It was only a few moments later when the door to the main hall opened that she saw Du'met come in. But to her curiosity, he had a book in his hand.

She saw the bookmark peeking out from between the pages. She saw that he had already read half of it. Before she saw the white mask in his other hand. It was one of the few exceptions where he didn't wear the mask, she liked it, it made him seem more human, less cold.

To her surprise, she couldn't quite place the look in his dark eyes, there was something like excitement and she thought she saw a small smile on his lips. ,,As a paramedic, I've learned that there is something you can never say with a serious face," he said suddenly and she was only more confused as to what he wanted from her. ,,What?" she asked, raising an eyebrow slightly and lifting her gaze from her knife, which she had lowered. Is that a question or a fact? she asked herself, not understanding him, it was unusual for him to say such a thing.

When he did talk, it was usually about the latest traps or constructions. ,,I am having a stroke" he finished his sentence and his grin grew like it was the funniest thing he had ever said.

The silence between them passed but she shook her head, slightly confused and annoyed, before returning to her work. She really didn't understand him sometimes. She heard his footsteps as he opened the book and continued to turn the pages before he briefly put a hand on her shoulder.

She slowly realised that it must be a joke book, but she didn't find it funny. ,,I wanted to see a different expression on his face," she heard him say and now knew what he meant. Turning to him with a sigh, she squeezed his hand briefly and gave him a small smile. ,,Thank you...but jokes aren't really your thing...besides, you'll see the excitement in a few days" she replied, trying to explain her point of view somehow. Knowing that the serious look on her face might even unsettle him a little. But with a joke about it, there were better ways.

Before he suddenly wrapped his arms around her body and held her against him. ,,Don't be angry, my serious, sweet accomplice," he murmured and squeezed her tighter for a moment before handing her his mask and watching her put it on. Before her lips twisted into a small smile. There was not always a serious face, but most of the time.

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[nelwen-e]

Mechanically - Du'Met x f!Reader

NSFW

English is not my first langage (I write in french, and I translate after, it may contain weird formulas and sentences)

Also, I am not used to write that kind of stuff (I mean 'sex scene', even if it's light.)

TW : Implied murder (ofc, it's The Devil in Me) ; forced relationship ; forced sex (not extremely detailed) ; forced pregnancy ; kidnapping ; suicidal thoughts

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The sound of the key in the lock made her shiver, as it did every night when he left for his "evening".  The woman crossed her arms and rubbed her shoulders before turning back to the figure sitting by the sofa.

"You're too good for him, that good-for-nothing doesn't deserve you," the voice croaked.

The woman swallowed and stared at the stairs for a moment. Thomas was sleeping peacefully, he was sleeping a lot, too much, according to her. The woman sighed again, curled up and closed her eyes for a moment. What would become of him? Her gaze shifted to the darkened kitchen. She had long since stopped testing the drawers, all locked by him when she was alone. Was he still doing it?

The woman sat down in her chair, opposite to the old woman. She picked up the book that was waiting for her and read through the lines without much conviction. Eventually, she fell asleep on the book.

The woman woke up in a jump. The rain was falling outside. She stretched her arms and glanced at the clock on the wall. It was almost two in the morning. She sighed and stared at her 'mother-in-law' for a moment. She swallowed, closed her book and stood up. She turned off the main light, leaving only a small lamp on for when he returns. Finally, she went to their room and left the door ajar. She hated it; it seemed to her that the old lady was watching her from the corner of her eye. This was not possible, and yet she felt that her every move was being watched.

The woman went to the bathroom and brushed her teeth. She touched the drawer where he kept his razors with her fingertips. Everything was locked up. The woman shrugged, no escape, as always. She undressed and put on a nightgown, and as always, her stomach tightened slightly. Whose garment had it been? The woman bit her lip, and a long shiver ran down her spine. She could imagine…

The woman finally crawled into bed and turned off the light, stared at the ceiling and listened for the sound of rain. Hopefully, it would stop raining in the morning, but in any case, the garden would be soggy. The squash had to be picked. She turned on her side and clutched her pillow against her. Thomas was going to dirty the whole house with his dirty boots. She sighed again and folded her legs over her chest.

She didn't like rainy days, it meant more time in the house with Lucinda. The woman pulled the blanket down over her chin. She let the sound of the rain lull her to sleep.

The woman awoke a second time when the bed creaked under the weight of a second person. She groaned slightly, and a hand stroked her face, then she felt his body move towards her. He smelled of soap. The hand moved down to her neck in gentle caresses. The darkness lightened slightly with habit, and she saw his imposing figure. His other hand brushed her hip, lifting her shirt. She automatically plastered a smile on her lips, and his lips came to rest on her. His kisses were always tender these nights, always sensual. Her mouth slid down to his neck as his right hand moved down to her chest and caressed her breasts, and his left hand stroked his crotch under his nightgown. The rain had stopped. It had been warming the last few days, perhaps the ground would warm up as quickly? She moaned under the caresses, and the nibbling of her right earlobe. Thomas didn't really like vegetables, especially squash. She had to force him to eat a little. The woman let out a long moan when he captured her lips, and mechanically she kissed him back. She put her hands around his chest and shivered as his fingers gently penetrated her. Then he whispered soft words in her ear. She kissed his neck. With any luck she could take Thomas to the beach near the house, it was a bit of a walk, but he didn't want them to go near the cliff. A wave of pleasure washed over her.

"Hector," she moaned.

He kissed her harder before pulling away from her slightly. He didn't trust her to stay near the cliff, even with Thomas. Was he afraid she would jump? She sighed with relief as she heard the condom packet being ripped. Maybe he wasn't wrong. The first time he'd taken her to the cliff, her gaze hadn't been able to leave the horizon. The horizon called to her, so far and so near. She hadn't had time to finish her step that he had grabbed her hand and led her back to the house. Soon after, he whispered to her about having a child, and a few months later, she became pregnant. He knew that she would never do anything to herself while being pregnant. He was right, but the idea still titillated her. He kissed her again and rubbed his member against her crotch before whispering compliments in her ear. She just moaned and nibbled on his ear. If she "left" what would happen to Thomas? Would he kill him? Perhaps. Maybe it would be for the best.

"Hector," she moaned in his ear, as he slid into her.

His pace was slow, calm and controlled. She planted her fingers in his back as he kissed her neck, his right hand played with her breast, and his left hand worked down. Apart from the cliff, and the incident at the door, she'd never had another opportunity to end it. Mechanically, she kissed him. Would there ever be another opportunity? A long shiver of fear and pleasure ran through her body, she ran her fingers through his hair. Her only attempt to escape still haunted her.

 Her body bucked under the pleasure that invaded her again as the last slow stroke was given. She fell back onto the mattress, panting, and he gave her one last kiss before withdrawing. She closed her eyes. Tomorrow she would wash the sheets, she had to do the laundry anyway. He sank down beside her and grabbed her hip to hold her close. His arm blocked her from any movement. He put his head close to her. She knew he was staring at her. He was always staring at her. In the past, in what seemed to be another life, she would blush under his gaze, then it would scare her; now she was indifferent. Nothing changed, nothing will change. There was no escape from Hector Munday.

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I hope it was ok.

I posted another short story about this "couple". It's called Open Door.

I recently wrote I'll take care of you, which is set before this story.