Was talking about heats with some friends on discord and and thinking of Danny's first heat.
Just squirming on Vlad's lap, nuzzling his neck just to get his scent, to get some kind of comfort, but he's so hot, his body feels like its on fire, and his underwear is getting all wet, there's something leaking out of him and hes so embarrassed about it (cuz public school sex ed doesn't cover this stuff very well, does it?). And Vlad's so warm, and he smells so good, and Danny can't help but nuzzle into him. There's a big, warm hand on his leg, both burning and soothing all at once, and Danny sighs, squirming and leaking a little more as it slides up his thigh, squeezing in what he thinks is comfort.
"It's alright, little badger," Vlad whispers, and his husky voice makes Danny whine, hips bucking in place. Vlad's hand rises further, fingers brushing his crotch, and Danny hadn't realized how tight his jeans have become. A gush of slick slips out of him, and he cries in embarrassment, arms wrapping tight around Vlad's neck to hide his face. Vlad gives a soft groan, his fingers running over the wet spot on the seat of his pants, and Danny squeezes his eyes shut.
"I'm sorry..." he whines, waves of heat crashing over him as Vlad's touch grows harder.
"Oh, no, Daniel," Vlad murmured back. His palm rests hot on Danny's length, and he moans. Danny's face flushes and he pants against the scent glands at Vlad's neck. "This is perfectly natural. Let me take care of you."
"It's hurts," Danny whines. He aches under Vlad's hand.
Life has a way of coming at you fast. Somewhere in between near-relapses and plane malfunctions, TK lost his mother, and he's been spiraling ever since.
He isn't always the best at taking care of himself, or giving himself a break, but Carlos is always there to remind him that he's going to be okay.
read on ao3
This was written for day 7 of @tarlos-smut-week, dom/sub day! Thank you so much to @literateowl for beta reading, and thank you @heartstringsduet for being my cheerleader through this whole fic!
HELLO, I was seeing that you were open to requests and I've had this in my head for a long time and I would really like to see something about this, a reader who has a huge scar on his face that is literally ugly, they got it as a child, apart from the fact that it shows part of the teeth of how serious it was and for this reason the reader wears a mask for fear of being told things about them face, I'm sorry if it's something explicit just that sometimes I feel like I don't explain myself
Reader with a scar - Luffy & Penguin
Content: reader is referred to as a ‘guy’ and a ‘dude’, reader wears a face mask, can be read as platonic, face scarring due to a past accident not specified, fluff and reassurance, a few mentions of Shachi in Penguin's part.
Notes* Hey there! There wasn't a character specified for this ask, so I chose two that I'm less experienced with to write out this prompt with :) male reader because of the pronouns used in the ask! I got really interested in this prompt right away and wrote it immediately upon receiving the ask and absolutely had to post it now so I apologize if the formatting is wonky! I'm on mobile haha
Luffy
When you first met Strawhat Luffy, it was while he was stopped at your home island along his grand adventure
You'd never really paid much attention to pirates and their lives- you had your own to live and figure out anyway
But as you and Luffy became closer- first as acquaintances, then as temporary allies, and then as friends as he boldly declared it in a short amount of time, you started to really like the guy
He'd only asked you about the mask you wore once. But the second you tried to answer him, he was distracted by dinner. After that, it was if he'd forgotten all about his question
It was kind of nice that way, not needing to worry about constant pestering or comments about it
Luffy truly didn't give a shit what you wore on your face at all. He cared about you (and your food, of course)
Luffy had a way of making you feel as if you could trust him to see your face. What you've kept hidden for most of your life, after a terrible accident had, in your opinion, ruined your life
But Luffy's care for you was unlike anything you've ever felt before. Luffy made you feel safe, protected, and just a little anxious at how willing he was to throw himself in harm's way to help you, the appointed new friend
One evening, you decide that you do in fact want to talk to him about your past. It's a decision you've been thinking over for a while, but actually getting up and moving to Luffy's room is such a sudden action, and then you're suddenly seeking him out in the dead of night on his ship to tell him about your scar.
The Thousand Sunny was still docked peacefully at the edge of the south side of your island, where you had originally met them what felt like so long ago. In reality, it had only been about a week since the Strawhats arrived, and yet it felt like so much longer in the chaos.
Their gangplank was pulled up, but before you could start trying to climb the ship's side, you spot Luffy out on the deck- evident by the straw hat on his head.
You call out his name, and he turns right away. With a grin quickly spreading on his face, he hops off the sunny and onto the grassy island floor. He calls your name happily.
“What are you doing over here? Is something wrong?” He asks.
You tell him it's not that, and he picks up on your unease.
“Well, what is it? It's hard to tell but you look like something's bothering you. Are you hungry?”
You shake your head, and you begin to explain. You tell him about your accident, about how your face was scarred and disfigured. You tell him about your upbringing, how hard it was to fit in with the other kids while you looked like that.
You can feel yourself getting emotional. Luffy can hear it in your voice, too. He calls your name in a stern tone- one he only seems to use when he gets serious.
“Listen, I don't care about all that crap.” He speaks. And though his words are blunt, you know he means them in the best way.
“I like you. You're a really nice guy, and you fight really well. So what else matters? You think I care if you've got a scar on your face?”
He stares at you, and you feel it in the center of your chest.
“You should feel free to do whatever you want! If you want to wear your mask then that's fine. But if you don't, then take it off! And if people don't like it, that's their problem! If they don't want to get to know you because of what your face looks like, then they're the ones that are missing out!”
You can feel tears in your eyes. There's something about the way Luffy says- no, declares it so passionately that leaves no doubt in your mind of his pure fondness for you.
Through your tears, you can see Luffy's smile, and your heart soars.
Penguin
You'd been a Heart Pirate for a short amount of time, but somehow you had made quick friends with many people on the Polar Tang- one of them being the man who called himself, ‘Penguin’ with the hat to prove it
There was something about him that was so easy to click with. Maybe it was your shared sense of humor, or the fact that you found it hilarious watching him and his partner in crime Shachi get into trouble for pulling pranks around your Captain (for the millionth time)
You weren't the only person on the crew who wore a full face mask, either. So while he was curious and questioned it in the beginning, one word from you to leave it alone and he backed off. Surprisingly.
Still, you definitely caught him eyeing you at times. The urge to pull the mask off your face to see what you were hiding was strong in him, but you two were friends and he wouldn't do that to you
One evening, Shachi had been pressing you just a little too much about the matter and he'd said, “What, are you ugly or something under there?”
Which earned a swift smack to the back of his head from Penguin, chastising him for saying something that insensitive
He'd noticed the way your teeth clenched, how tense you got. It had obviously hit home, and he made Shachi apologize for his rude joke right then and there
After that though, he found himself wondering why. Why did you think you were ugly? What were you hiding? Did you actually have a reason to be insecure, or was it something more?
He cared about you. He didn't want you to feel like you couldn't be yourself around them- the Heart Pirates were your family now, and a proper family didn't hurt each other for something so miniscule.
You had gotten over the comment, but Penguin had already begun his mission.
It was late into the evening. The chores were done for the day, and Penguin wanted to catch you before you went to bed. He wasn't really sure what he was gonna do or say, but he knew he wanted to address it before the worry drove him to insomnia.
He searches the halls for you and eventually finds you in the common room. He calls your name cheerfully, thankful that you're alone here- at least for the time being.
You greet Penguin, looking up from what you'd been doing. He takes a seat nearby and starts to make idle chatter, asking you about your day, telling you a bit of gossip, smiling when he gets you to laugh.
Then he clears his throat and switches gears, moving on to the conversation he really came here for.
“So, uh… There was something I wanted to talk to you about.”
You watch him fidget for a minute. He's not good with feelings at all, and he's trying to figure out how to bring this up without accidentally offending you. Eventually, he finds the words.
“So… About what Shachi said a while back. I was kinda worried about it.”
You quickly assure him that it was fine, that Shachi apologized and he only meant it as an, albeit bad, joke.
“Yeah, but… I don't know. It looked like it really bothered you. I hope you don't think that, like, we would think you're ugly or something! Whatever you look like under there, you're still the same cool dude we know. Nothing would change that. I guess I just wanted to say that.” Penguin shrugs.
You're not sure what to say to that. Your initial reaction is bitter- to insist that actually they would think you're ugly if they could see your face. But something stops you, and you get stuck just choking on your words.
“Look, I'm just saying, it bothers me to think that you don't like the way you look. I'm not saying you have to show me your face or anything, but just… If you choose to take your mask off one day, I hope you know that we'd love you all the same. You'll always be our family, no matter what you look like.”
You nod, because it's all you can bring yourself to do in the moment. It's nice, hearing that reassurance.
Penguin quickly changes the subject to try and dissipate the tension in the room made by the serious conversation, going on about something stupid Shachi had done that got him into some shit with the Captain earlier, which makes you laugh.
His words stick to your heart -You'll always be our family, no matter what you look like- and you know that when you do decide to show yourself to them, that you'll be alright.
Big Bad John [Part 1] - The Devil Went Down to Georgia
1,040 words
Summary: Cowboy!Schlatt x original character. Dollie gets an unexpected guest in her saloon.
A/N: Brain worms got me. 😔✊
[Part 2] [Part 3] [Part 4]
Divider: elleisdesigning
“Nobody seemed to know where John called home
He just drifted into town and stayed all alone
He didn't say much, he kinda quiet and shy
And if you spoke at all, he just said, "Hi" to Big John"
“Big Bad John” by Jimmy Dean
In the old town of Ghostridge, Georgia, nothing ever really happened for someone like Dollie Sheppard. She ran the town's saloon after her grandfather died. Most of her days were spent pouring drinks and dealing with the occasional rowdy drunkard. Folks passed through her saloon all the time telling stories about outlaws, shootouts, and menacing figures that haunted the West like ghosts. But in the quiet town of Ghostridge, Dollie didn’t witness any of that herself.
There was one outlaw in particular that Dollie heard the name of a lot: Jonathan Schlatt. Most folks called him “Big Bad John.” He was the kind of legend that made men shiver and women clutch their children a little tighter.
They say he comes into town dressed in all black, his gun visible at his side. Some even claim he’s killed several people, but no one ever says the same number - it’s always either two, five, or even thirty.
Dollie doesn’t believe in fairytales, and sure as hell doesn’t believe in ghost stories. Hell, she’s not sure “Big Bad John” even exists. Folks come into her saloon spouting phony make-believe over a glass of whiskey all the time.
That was, until he walked right into her saloon.
One moment, she’s standing behind the bar, polishing glasses while making small talk with Ol’ Charlie. The next, the doors to her saloon fly open and a man scrambles in, his eyes wide and full of terror.
“It’s him! It’s Big Bad John!” the man shouts.
Panic spread through the saloon like wildfire. Chairs scrape against the floor as men try to hide under tables. A few darted for the exit, practically tripping over themselves in their haste. The only ones who didn’t move were Dollie and Charlie.
Dollie scoffed, arms crossed over her chest. “Y’all really believe that nonsense?” she asks.
No one said a word.
Then, she heard it. Heavy boots against the wooden planks of the saloon floor. Slow. Deliberate. The kind of footsteps that belonged to a man who wasn’t in a rush, because he didn’t need to be.
Dollie lifted her gaze as the man entered her saloon.
He was tall, at least a foot taller than her, and built like a man who’d spent his years taming the land rather than letting it tame him. Dressed in dark jeans, a belt with a large silver buckle, and a maroon button-up beneath a black vest, he carried himself with the kind of ease that only came with experience. A long black leather coat hung from his shoulders, dust clinging to the edges like he’d ridden through hell and back to get here. A black cowboy hat cast a shadow over his face, but when he stepped fully into the light, Dollie caught sight of sharp brown eyes and neatly trimmed mutton chops.
Something about his demeanor makes Dollie freeze for a moment. Was this actually Big Bad John? He looked dangerous. But not in the way people had described. He wasn’t the monster they had painted in their stories - he was something else entirely.
She stood behind the bar, watching him closely as he made his way to the bar and sat down. He reaches for his hat, taking it off and setting it on the counter.
“What can I get for ya?” Dollie asks.
The man looks up at Dollie. She feels captivated by his good looks.
“Whiskey, neat,” he says.
“Coming right up,” she says, reaching for a glass and pouring the man a whiskey. She slides the glass across the counter to him. “There you are. Enjoy.” She smiles at him.
Dollie goes back to polishing glasses and speaking to Charlie. Slowly, the other saloon patrons go back to whatever they were doing before this mysterious cowboy entered the saloon.
“Can I get another?” The cowboy asks.
Dollie pours him another. “So, cowboy, where ya from?” she asks.
“All over,” he says.
Dollie nods, not pressing. “And your name?” she asks.
“That a habit of yours? Getting to know every man who walks through that door?”
Dollie looks him in the eye. “Just want to get to know who’s sitting in my saloon,” she says.
“Your saloon?” he asks. “You run this place?”
“Indeed, I do,” she says. “Now, are you going to tell me your name or what?”
He takes a long sip of his whiskey. “Jonathan Schlatt,” he says. “But most call me John.”
“Like Big Bad John?” Charlie pipes up.
John chuckles. “Yes, like Big Bad John - if that's what they're calling me,” he says.
“Well, welcome to my saloon,” Dollie says. “If you don’t mind me saying, you don’t seem so big and bad to me.”
John chuckles. “Is that so?”
“If I believed all the stories, I’d be shaking in my boots right now,” Dollie says. “But you’re just another man looking for a drink, huh?”
John lets out a low chuckle. “Maybe. Or maybe I’m just waiting for the right time to prove ‘em right.”
Dollie doesn’t flinch. “If you were going to prove ‘em right, I figured you would’ve done it by now.”
John smiles. “Smart lady.”
Charlie let out a laugh. “I like this one, Dollie. Seems like he’s got some sense.”
John tipped his glass toward the man. “I try.”
Dollie leaned forward, placing her elbows on the bar. “So, tell me, John. How does a man get a reputation like yours?”
John exhales. “People like to talk. Sometimes a story is better than the truth.”
She considers this. “I get that,” she says.
The three of them - Dollie, John, and Charlie - talk until Dollie closes the saloon. Charlie eventually heads out, but John stays.
“So, where can a man get a place to sleep around here?” he asks.
“Well, there is an inn down the road, but they may not let you in. Not too many folks like ‘Big Bad John’ around here,” she chuckles.
John chuckles as well. “I guess that’s true.”
The two are quiet for a moment before Dollie gets an idea.
“You know,” she says. “You could stay here. I live above the saloon. There’s a spare room.”
“That would be nice,” John says.
“Alright, follow me, then,” Dollie says before leading John upstairs.
Iiiii wish youd write a fic where Jack is annoying North or Bunny so they gift wrap him and shoot his ass through a burrow straight to Pitch's lair (also hiii its ecto)
"Come on, guys, is this really necessary?" Jack whined, trying not to laugh, as Bunny held him down to keep him from squirming off the oversized wrapping paper. Where North had found it, Jack will never know, but that just meant he'd have to try harder to invade the shop and explore more thoroughly.
"Mate, for the love of Manny, stop talking." Bunny sounded so distraught as he said it. North folded the paper over Jack and the two of them proceeded to roll him up properly, earning giggles and snorts from the youngest Guardian.
"Seriously, this is so - pfft- unnecessary!"
He was having the time of his life.
It took no effort between the two of them to haul him up to his feet, Bunny looping a big white ribbon around his legs and upper body. The blue snowflake paper crinkled with each tug.
"Is your idea, Jack," North said with a shrug. "You said Pitch was good this year. I say no. But I need you out of shop." He crossed his arms and glared at Jack, but his stern expression was ruined by the delighted twinkle in his eye. "You are menace, and you're distracting my elves."
North was having just as much fun.
"The elves don't make the toys, though!" Jack tried to reason. Bunny finished his work with an extravagant white bow in the center of his chest. "I was just trying to keep them out of the way! I thought you could use the help!"
Bunny looked at him deadpan as he stepped back. "You blew up the kitchen."
Jack snorted another laugh. "No! Bimble blew up the kitchen and framed me!"
"No matter who blew up kitchen," North said, unwrapping a candy cane, "it still happened." He shoved the long end of the cane into Jack's mouth, Jack grinning around it. He pulled out a snow globe. "You are present now. Maybe Pitch can keep you occupied until after Christmas."
Bunny gave a dramatic shutter. "Oh, ew. I don't need that mental image, mate."
North laughed, loud and boisterous, as Jack gave his muffled protests. Then he whispered to the globe and threw it, a swirling green portal opening up to a dreary grey landscape. Jack was lifted by his feet by Bunny, spouting token protests around his candy cane, but he was smiling and giggling too much to mean anything by them. North held his shoulders and back, and together, they hauled him through the portal with cheeky cries of "Merry Christmas!" called after him.
Jack tumbled through the portal with an oof!, unable to catch himself with his arms and legs bound in wrapping paper, and he may have lost his breath a little as he landed on his back. He winced, blinking his eyes rapidly to shake the glowing green swirls from his vision.
There was a stifled snort in the dark.
"To whom do I owe this pleasure?" Pitch's velvet voice reached his ears, even if the man himself did not appear. Jack smiled wide up that cavern ceiling.
"Santa's gift came early!" He laughed around his candy cane. "Said to wish you a merry Christmas."
Bright gold eyes appeared in the dark above him, soon followed by that grey face he loved so much. His lips twitched as he faught a grin. "Maybe I should go thank him."
Jack smiled up at him. "I think you should unwrap your present first. I put in a good word for you, after all."
"That so?" Pitch grinned. "Well, who am I to argue with Santa Claus?" His shadowy form circled Jack, looming over him as he fiddled with the bow. "After all, he gave me just what I wanted for Christmas this year." Jack's face flushed, and he swallowed thickly around the candy in his mouth. Pitch slowly pulled the ribbon loose, stradding Jack's torso as he did. He smirked over the younger spirit. "I can't wait to play with my new toy."
Summary: Coming from Colorado, Y/N decides to give a ride to a handsome ginger on the way, but she never thought that her life would change completely after that. (smut + angst)
A/N: I’m back!! Sort of, but I’m back!!
This is a late birthday gift to @fluff-moo … I hope you like it!
Axl will be going by the name of William here. This is a horror fic about Serial Killers, if you’re not comfortable with this topic, this might not be the right fic for you.
Warnings: Mature content, swearing, murder, description of corpses and murder scenes, oral sex (female receiving), chocking.
It was the spring of 1982, the snow started to melt on mountains and the sun started to shine bright again. Small yellow and white flowers started to cover the grass but the cold wind remained there in the early mornings, almost as a reminder that the winter hadn’t gone completely.
Y/N was a young and smart woman, coming from a big and poor family from Colorado, she always dreamed of having more. She wanted to go to Los Angeles, she wanted to become one of those actresses she saw on TV every night.
And as the years passed by, the more unsatisfied she got with her simple job as a waitress at the local coffee shop. She needed fresh air, she wanted to know how the beach smelt like and wanted to feel the sunsetting against her skin before it disappeared behind the ocean.
So when her 18th birthday arrived, she gathered all the money she had managed to save during her life, working as a babysitter, a waitress and sometimes helping younger kids with their homework.
She said goodbye to her family, goodbye to her hometown, goodbye to the cold yet beautiful mountains and goodbye to her past life.
She entered the car, an old pickup truck from the 50s, which she got from her grandfather after he passed away, and packing all her stuff in the back part, she started the engine and drove away, never looking back by the rearview mirror, not wanting to take the risk of changing her mind.
The thirteen-hour drive between Aspen and Los Angeles, started pretty well, Y/N had some Lynyrd Skynyrd tapes that made her company during most part of the way, along with a bunch of sandwiches her mom had made for her.
The original plan was to arrive in L.A around 8 in the night, but when 5 in the afternoon arrived she was still in Nevada, a car accident in the middle of the way having caused her to spend 4 hours on a main road, making her change her plans.
She could have kept driving, but decided against it, the sun was starting to set and she didn’t exactly trust herself to drive during the night, especially on unknown roads. She decided to drive until she found a motel, staying for the night and then continuing in the morning, once she would be fully rested.
Y/N drove for almost half an hour, no sign of civilization in the way, the sun was starting to set and the road seemed to get bigger with each minute she spent on the road.
That’s when she saw him. His long hair reflecting the sun, that now was almost the same shade of orange. He was wearing a pair of ripped jeans, and a brown leather jacket, his clothes were shabby, and it reminded her of how her brothers used to dress before she and her older brothers started working to help around the house.
His thumb was still up as countless cars passed by him, not even reducing their speed when passing by.
Y/N didn’t know why, but she decided to go against all her principles, to go against all her dad’s instructions, she decided to give him a ride.
Slowing down, she stopped beside him, her heart missing a beat when she saw how handsome he was, he smiled at her, and for a second she forgot why she had stopped the car in the first place.
“Hey.” His voice reached her ears, making her smile back.
“Hi.”
They stared at each other for a few seconds.
“Where are you going?” She asked.
“California.” The ginger answered, adjusting his brown suitcase on his back.
“So am I. I'm going to Los Angeles”
His smile got bigger.
“But it’s getting late, and I don’t want to keep on driving for much more time, I’m actually looking for a motel to spend the night.”
“Oh, yeah, sure. It’s not safe for a girl as cute as you to be driving during the night.”
She felt her cheeks growing red as she put her hair behind her ear.
“I can get you a ride to a motel if you want, then if you’re patient enough, we can go together to California tomorrow.”
“Sounds like a plan.” He grinned at her.
“Good, come in then.”
She watched his silhouette through the rearview mirror as he walked behind the truck, placing his bag on the back part before plopping on the seat beside her.
“Hi, I’m Willian Rose.” He extended his hand for her to shake.
“Hi! I’m Y/N Y/L/N.” She shook his hand smiling.
“That’s a beautiful name, Y/N.”
Her smile got wider as she drove the car back to the road again.
“So… where are you coming from?” She asked, looking for a brief second at him before looking back to the road.
“Ohio, born and raised there.” He rested his arm on the window. “You?”
“Colorado. Born and raised too.”
He nodded.
“Do you mind?” He took a pack of cigarettes from his jacket’s pockets.
“No.” She smiled softly.
He lit up a cigarette, taking a long drag from it and then blowing it out.
“So, what’s a pretty thing like you gonna do in L.A?”
“I… It’s nothing.” She suddenly felt embarrassed by saying she wanted to be an actress, afraid that he’d judge her or think that she was too innocent for believing that it could happen.
“Come on,” He nudged her. “It can’t be that bad.”
“Well, hum… I want to be an actress, you know? Work in movies and stuff.”
“That’s nice, you surely look like one.” He smirked at her.
“Thanks.” She said in almost a whisper as her cheeks grew hot again.
“What about you? What makes you go to L.A?”
He rested his other arm on top of the seat, looking ahead as he answered. “Variety.”
“Variety?” She frowned.
“Yeah.”
“Like, new experiences? Is that what you mean?”
“Something like that.” He grinned.
Not too long after that, they managed to find a motel, a vacancy sign shining in yellow as she parked in front of it.
Each one got their separate rooms, but they agreed on meeting in his room one hour later to have dinner together and discuss tomorrow’s plans for the trip.
So here she was, after taking a shower and applying her perfume twice, she knocked on his door, her black dress flying a little as the wind passed by her. She hoped inside that her dress would be enough to call his attention, but not enough to make him realize that she wanted to call his attention.
“Hey, come in. They just delivered the food.” He said smiling.
William had taken shower too, his hair was still wet in some parts and his previous clothes were replaced by a pair of black jeans and a white tank top.
She awkwardly stepped into the room, seeing two plates of spaghetti on a table nearby the back window. His room was a mess already, his clothes sprawled on the floor, a notebook laying in his bed and the beige area rug was now dirty because of his dirty boots.
“Madam.”
She giggled a little as she saw him pulling one of the chairs for her to sit. They soon started eating and they started talking again.
“I never asked where you are going in California.”
He cleaned his mouth with the back part of his hand before answering. “San Francisco.”
She nodded. “San Francisco is cool.”
“Yeah.”
There was a minute of awkward silence before she started talking again.
“I was thinking we could leave tomorrow around eight in the morning. What do you think?”
“Eight sounds good to me.” He smiled briefly.
They went back to their food, but Axl’s mind started rushing, he stopped eating, looking at the way her lips moved, the way her eyes shone when she looked at him and the way her delicate hands held the fork.
“You said you’re from Colorado, which place?”
“Aspen.” She smiled. “It’s a very small town.”
He nodded slowly.
“Is it just you there, or you have family?”
She drank from her coke before replying. “No, I actually have a big family. Six siblings and both my parents.”
“Are you the oldest?”
“No, I have two older brothers. They are amazing.”
He didn’t say anything, as he observed the love that sparkled in her eyes.
“What about you? Big family?”
“No, we're just four.”
“Nice!”
The minutes after that passed by so quickly that she couldn’t even put her finger on what made their make out session start. Will had his hands on her ass as he walked around the room, guiding her towards the bed. Their kiss was fervent and their mouths fitted so well that they looked like magnets, attracting each other in a way that they didn’t seem to be able to pull apart.
Her legs touched the mattress and she allowed herself to lay on it, their kiss breaking for a breath second before Willian’s tongue invaded her mouth again. He started kissing her neck, making sure to leave a mark there.
He helped her remove her clothes, kissing every inch of her skin that was revealed to him. He kissed her ankles and followed his way up until he found her core, kissing its folds gently before he found her clit, applying pressure on it with his tongue, he felt his dick twitch when he heard a small moan. It was the most delicate and beautiful sound he had heard and it became his mission to hear that over and over again.
Getting up, he quickly removed his clothes. Using the tip of his member to collect some of her juices, he entered her slowly, biting his bottom lip to hold a moan. He noticed by her tightness and the small amount of blood that came out that it was her first time.
The thought of being the first man to touch her like that, to enter her body in such a delicious way, to feel every part of her made his member throb in excitement, but he used all his self control that night, making sure to go extra caring with her, kissing every inch of her skin and holding her close as he whispered how pretty she was, taking him so well.
After a few minutes, he started to go faster, louder moans leaving her lips as she felt the pain being replaced by pure pleasure as he filled her entirely. His member hitting her g spot with precision and strength, making a loud moan leave her lips.
"Fuck." He groaned, moving one of his hands to her neck, choking her as animalistic growls left his throat.
The action scared her at first. They were supposed to make love, so why was he suffocating her like that? She thought that was a weird thing to be done in such a moment, but when his other hand found her clit massaging it, pleasure took hold of all her senses, and she simply stopped caring about the fact that she could hardly breath.
“Oh my god!” She moaned.
"Cum to me, princess." He whispered in her ear, biting her earlobe.
The words making her walls start to clench around him, causing an animalistic growl to leave his throat.
"I know you're close, Y/N, cum to me." He groaned, quickening his pace even more.
her legs giving up as an orgasm hit her.
—
So now, sitting on the chair, admiring the sweetest creature he had met as he held a polaroid of her in his hands he simply couldn’t decide what to do with her.
She looked so peaceful when sleeping, and he wondered if she’d be in that much peace around him, if she knew who he really was.
The truth behind William’s plan of going to San Francisco, was for no other reason than to distract the cops who had been tracking him down ever since Indiana, he’s real home state.
Of course that when he sinned for the first time, he didn’t think he’d do it again. It was like a drug, you knew it wasn’t right, you knew it wasn’t good for you, but you simply can’t help yourself from growing addicted. And as soon as you allow yourself to do it twice, you can’t stop yourself from doing it again, and again.
The cops weren’t the only ones he was leaving behind, a huge pile of bodies was laying in many places all the way from Lafayette to Nevada, where Y/N tragically had found him.
The truth was that behind that charming smile, and those strong hands, laid the blood of tons of girls he had murdered in the past year.
He could still remember his first one, he knew her from church, she was there every Sunday, always smiling with her brown hair and blue eyes. She was a hypocrite, just like all the others that came after her. They pretended to be kind and innocent, when inside they were filthy and corrupted.
He remembered how his hands tightened around her neck until she lost consciousness, how her eyes changed with despair and how she desperately tried to get rid of him. She was the first one of many, and the only difference among her and the others was that she hadn’t been planned.
Unlike the others, William didn’t predict this, the desire to feel the life leaving her body came out of nowhere when they were making out in his car, a car that he abandoned in the middle of the road to avoid being recognized.
It wasn’t the first time he felt like that, but it was the first time he gave in, he gave in to everything considered to me human, or logical, or right, he just wanted to feel that, and for the first time, he allowed himself to feel it.
He could still recall how pleasure and proudness fought against remorse and sadness after he committed his crime, and how they ended up winning. And how he cried outside his car, parked in front of a forest as he squatted on the floor and thought about what he had done.
But in the end, the mad part of him won, and he got up, carrying her body further deep inside the forest and laying her there, hoping that the animals would take care of her from then on.
They didn’t.
She was found two weeks later, and four weeks after that, the whole city knew that it had been him.
So he got all his stuff, running away from Lafayette, ditching rides from city to city, and killing when he felt like it.
A year had passed after that, and he never denied him the pleasure of committing his sins again, never until he met her.
He didn’t know why, if it was her sweet personality, or because for the first time, she truly was innocent and kind, but everytime he thought about seeing her dead body, he couldn’t feel that usual excitement or delight, instead all he could feel was an unfamiliar weight on his chest and an urge to think on something else.
“What have you done to yourself, huh?” He gently caressed her hair. “Trusting, among all the people, on the devil himself.”
Maybe he could let her go, get the damn ride to San Francisco and pretend she never crossed his way before, burn that polaroid and allow her to be happy. She had a family right? They surely would miss her.
“You’re a good girl, Y/N. So good that you’re even fucking up with my mind.” He chuckled slightly, before kissing her head, and laying in bed, bringing her closer and allowing himself to go to sleep.
---
The sun arrived with the morning, and a small touch against his chest made William start to open his eyes.
The once blurred form of a girl, soon became clear as glass and Y/N’s face appeared. She was sitting in bed, running the tip of her fingers on his chest, her warm touch making him smile as his heart got warmer too.
“Hey.” She said smiling.
“Hey.” His hoarse voice made her bite her bottom lip as she leaned down, pecking his lips.
“Good morning.” She whispered as she moved to her previous position.
“Morning, doll.” He sat up straight in the bed, checking the time on the nightstand clock.
“Are you hungry?”
“Like hell.” He yawned.
“I’m gonna ask them to bring something for us then.” She got up, and he smiled when he saw she was wearing his t-shirt.
“Sounds good.” He looked at her for a second. “You do that while I take a shower, okay?”
She nodded, smiling as his naked form left the bed, entering the bathroom and closing the door behind him.
It didn’t take much for Y/N to realize that William liked long showers, since an old lady came ten minutes later with their food and the newspaper, and he still hadn’t turned the water off.
With not much to do, she started reading it, skipping all the parts she considered boring or unuseful to her. She was about to do the same thing with the criminal part when a picture caught her attention.
On the upper part of the left page there was a man in a black and white picture, his hair was long and straight as his face was familiar enough for her to stop breathing for a second. It was William.
She dared herself to read the article, her eyes scanning every word in the fastest pace she found.
“Wanted by the FBI
WILLIAM BAILEY
Description:
Born on Feb 6th, 1962, Lafayette, Indiana. Height: 5’8 to 6’. Weight: from 165 to 187 pounds. Hair: ginger, shoulder length. Eyes: green bluish. Nationality: American.
Criminal Record:
Bailey has been convincted of aggravated kidnapping and murder of at least 12 women in the past 11 months.”
Her heart skipped a beat as she found it difficult to breathe. She looked around, finding his notebook on the floor.
She dropped herself on the floor, opening the notebook only to be greeted by polaroids of tons of women, her faces smiling, talking, just like the polaroid he took of her the night before while they were having dinner, accompanied by a polaroid of their dead bodies, covered in blood and bruises and their lifeless eyes stared at her.
A tear fell from her eyes as she quickly turned the pages. There were many more than twelve girls, and with every single face she saw, the harder her hands trembled. However the worst part was an empty page around the middle of the notebook, her name was laying on top of it, along with a big question mark beside it.
“What does it mean?” She murmured.
“It means I wasn’t sure if I’d do that to you.”
Her eyes widened as she dropped the notebook on the floor, she got up quickly, turning around to find him resting against the bathroom’s door, a towel wrapped around his hips.
“You-you’re not from Ohio, are you?”
“No.” He walked towards the bed, picking up his suitcase and opening it.
“Nor-nor is your name Rose?”
“You’re making progress.” He stated without looking at her.
He started removing things from the suitcase, first a small piece of rope, then a knife, until he finally placed a small hammer on the bed.
Her heart started racing 10 times faster, as she started walking backwards, stopping abruptly when her back hit the wall.
“Oh, Y/N… why did you have to do this? We could be going to California now, and none of this would have to happen.” He said, picking up the hammer.
“William, no, please.” Tears were leaving her face involuntarily as she begged for her life. “I won’t tell anyone, I swear, I-I won’t.”
