Were you the one who wrote Bruises? That Jake Seresin fic where they get captured and he ends up with a pacemaker. And the follow up series of them in the after life as their friends died and showed up to talk to them again?
no, that lovely series was written by @ohtobeleah!!
I would like a Ham and Cheese sandwich with Ben Mears. I would like the them of it to be where Ben is turned into a vampire instead of escaping. After being turned, lures the reader to her own fate. Im sorry, im terrible at ideas, I suck, I just would like to read something that. I don't know if im doing this right.
change | ben mears
❝ i look at the cross, then i look away. give you the gun, blow me away ❞
🍓 part of my summer picnic event 🍓
—picnic masterlist | consider supporting me on ko-fi !
the house was quiet. too quiet.
not even the floorboards squeaked as you stepped inside. stake in one hand, cross in the other. your heart was pounding in your chest, adrenaline and fear vibrating through your bloodstream.
he'd told you to wait. you were supposed to be sitting in the car, engine running, prepared to make a quick getaway the moment he came out of the house. but he'd been inside for much too long, and you couldn't wait any longer.
in your heart of hearts, you knew something was wrong. the weight of dread was heavy, suffocating, as you crept into the house. you wanted to call out his name, but your voice was caught in your throat, swallowed by your fear.
please, god, let him be okay.
you imagined, if god really was listening, he was laughing at you. even so, knowing you were completely, entirely alone, you continued, further and further into the house.
you weren't sure what compelled you to climb the steps. you could feel the presence of the dead beneath the floorboards, lurking in the basement. but for whatever reason, you went upstairs.
slowly, one at a time, until you reached the very top. the place where ben's room was. the pull you felt was stronger now, as if an invisible string had attached itself to you, and someone was pulling the other end, luring you closer and closer.
the door was shut.
"come to me, my love."
his voice filled your head, swirling like smoke. you gasped, heart lurching in your chest. "ben?" you gripped the doorknob, and with a single push, the door came open.
you saw him then, across the room. he stood near the window, back turned toward you. it appeared that he was watching the darkness swallow the world below, the sun sinking low beyond the horizon.
"ben, thank god. what are you doing? we need to leave."
he was still. eerily so. back straight, shoulders tense. then, you heard his voice again. but it was all around you, in your mind, embedding itself into the very air you breathed. "aren't you tired of fighting?"
you should've felt horror. fear. all consuming grief. but all you felt was tired. your bones heavy, muscles weary. you found yourself nodding, tears welling in your eyes, bottom lip quivering. "yes."
"what is life, but filled with pain and suffering? i can fix it. i can make it all go away."
it sounded so appealing. a life without pain. "p-please." your cross slipped from your hand, clattering against the floor, somewhere unbeknownst. your stake suffered the same fate, rolling away, bumping into the wall with a thud.
"come to me."
your legs moved of their own accord, drawing you closer to him. to your beloved. there was something, somewhere in your mind, telling you that this wasn’t right. but you felt so calm. so relaxed. you couldn’t remember why you’d even been frightened to begin with.
when you reached him, he turned to face you. and you saw it then. the pallor in his skin. the cold, dead look in his eyes. it should have terrified you. yet all you felt when you gazed upon him was love.
you brought your trembling hands to his face, holding his cheeks. his skin was cold to the touch. “ben,” you whispered.
“this was how it was always meant to end, my love,” he spoke. “we’re fated to each other. in life, and death.”
“i want to be yours.”
“you will be.” his mouth parted, sharp fangs glimmering in the lowlight. “forever.”
when his teeth sank into your neck, you didn’t cry. didn’t scream. you merely welcomed it, moaning softly as your blood spilled from your neck, soaking his mouth, your dress, everything.
and even as he drank from you, pulling your very life force from you, a contented smile spread across your face.
hiii!!! this is for your picnic event (🧛🥪) i need some smutty thoughts on the love of my life ben mears </3 there's barely any content on tumblr for him, take your time!
the whole of your heart | ben mears
❝ love with all the strength in your little frame. turn a minor spark to a major flame ❞
note: smutty thoughts are below the cut, but apparently my brain also wanted to incorporate angst, so here you go, lol
🍓 part of my summer picnic event 🍓
—picnic masterlist | consider supporting me on ko-fi !
ben had never realized how much he longed for a life of domesticity.
it was never something he'd experienced. his childhood had been tumultuous, his adult life even worse. because of that, he had never quite let himself dream of the possibility of living in a little cottage with the love of his life, because it felt like such an intangible thing.
when he met you in jerusalem's lot, upon his return to the mysterious old town, he didn't realize just how drastically his life was going to change. the events that took place in the lot were harrowing. tragic. terrifying.
but through it all, you'd been there. you had fought alongside him, all fire and determination, burning with the need to protect him. to vanquish the evil that held your town in its grasp.
you'd barely escaped with your lives. you were bloodied. riddled with grief after losing some of your dearest friends. but you had him. you had ben. and that had to count for something.
recovering from the trauma you had experienced was no easy feat. both of you were plagued with nightmares. painful flashes of memory that would leave you trembling, staring off into space, gripped with terror.
it was odd, really. the nightmares you had weren't about gnashing fangs or an evil force trying to lure you into its trap. they were about something that hadn't even happened.
they were about losing him.
you realized that your greatest fear had somehow manifested itself into a twisted scene your brain replayed nightly. ben, forced to his knees by barlow himself, fangs pressed to his jugular. you tried to scream. tried to run to him. but your feet always felt as if they were cemented to the ground.
you were forced to watch ben slip away, lifeblood draining from his body, as you screamed until your vocal cords ceased working, destroyed from the force of your blood-curdling wail.
that was what always woke you. the sound of your own screaming.
ben was there, always, holding your trembling body in his arms as you sobbed against his chest. he felt so powerless in those moments. unable to take away your hurt. unable to fix it.
the dreams lasted for months. they didn't stop until you decided to start talking to a therapist. and even then, they continued for a few weeks after, until you finally found yourself in a place where you felt safe. a little guest cabin on some elderly woman's land. she'd been kind enough to offer you and ben a place to stay. the countryside was quiet. there was no sense of danger lurking. there was just...peace.
there, in that tiny cabin, on that small farm, you found healing. you helped mary, the elderly woman, take care of her land. ben spent much of his time writing, processing what he had experienced. and you? you took care of the animals. tended to the garden. allowed yourself to pretend, just for a moment, that this domestic little life was truly yours.
but the day came when ben took your hands and told you something that shattered the game of make believe you were playing.
"we need to go back."
the cabin was quiet. outside, it was raining. the soft patter against the roof was comforting. but it wasn't enough to quell the wave of dread that welled within you. you pulled your hands from his own as if you'd been burned, rising up from where you'd been seated on the edge of the bed.
"no, ben." there was an edge to your tone. you couldn't go back there. not when you knew what waited for you.
"sweetheart, we have to finish what we started. neither of us will ever know peace until we do."
"i have peace. i've had it ever since we moved into this place. and i'd like to keep that peace, thank you very much." you folded your arms over your chest. protecting yourself.
ben's expression was gentle. his tone wasn't accusatory when he spoke again. it was even. cautious. "i need you to be honest with me. we've never lied to each other, so why start now? i know you still think of that place. i write about it every damn day, so of course i still think about it."
you tried to keep the tears at bay, but they blurred your vision anyway. "of course i still think about it. every night, i go to sleep, terrified that i'll dream about losing you again. but ever since we came here, the nightmares stopped. i'm afraid if i leave, i'll start having them again. and if we go back to the lot...ben, what if that nightmare comes true?"
he stood from the bed, crossing the room to take you into his arms. "hey now, it's not going to come true. barlow's dead, he can't do anything to either of us ever again. nothing is going to happen to me."
your hands came up to rest upon his chest, and you let yourself feel the beating of his heart. a reminder that he was here. that he was alive. "there's still a group of vampires there that hate what you did to their leader. if they see you, they'll..." you couldn't speak it out loud.
"no," he firmly said. "that's not going to happen. they don't have a leader. they're weak. they won't even know we're coming. all we have to do is burn it to the ground. then it'll be over. we'll be free."
voice trembling, you replied. "is that really all it's going to take?"
"there's only one way to find out."
in the end, you agreed. there was no way you were going to let ben do it on his own. you needed to be with him. had to know he was safe. so you made the journey back to the cursed town of jerusalem's lot. the place where your lives had been ripped apart at the seams.
you burned it to the ground. there was no standoff. no battle. just the two of you, turning it all to cinder and ash. but you didn't stay to watch it. you climbed back into ben's car, and you left it all behind. and as it burned, the weight you'd carried in your chest for the past year finally seemed to dissipate. not fully. not completely. but enough to make you feel like you could live again.
life has a funny way of moving on. you'd learned that it stopped for no one. and although you had suffered unspeakable horrors in that god forsaken town, life didn't care about that. it continued on like nothing had ever happened. but that was okay, because you were ready to move on, too.
you returned to that little cabin on miss mary's farm. it was just the same as it had always been, but it felt different. maybe because you were different. but it wasn't a bad sort of change. it was good. welcome. and together, you and ben slipped right back into a domestic little existence. except, this time, it wasn't pretend.
you established yourselves on that farm. it became yours, just as much as it was mary's. and when that precious elderly woman passed, a few years down the road, she left the entirety of her property to you and ben. she insisted that she wanted you to have it, because she had no children or grandchildren to pass it on to. you and ben were the next best thing.
it was all yours. the garden, the animals, the land. and it was everything you'd ever wanted. ben had never imagined he would be living on a farm, with the woman of his dreams. yet here he was, plowing the fields, tilling the earth, embracing the slow, calm life he'd been robbed of for so long.
today was one of those days in which he felt like he was meant for this. like this life had been waiting for him all this time, just out of reach. today, he was watching you. you moved with ease. purpose. feeding the chickens, harvesting the abundant tomatoes that had been growing full and red in the garden, nearly falling off the vine with how heavy they were.
you were perfect. sweat shimmering upon your brow, dirt smudged across your cheek. and still, you looked ethereal.
when you caught him watching from the porch as you approached, you grinned at him. "you just gonna stand there while i do all this work?" you teased.
he couldn't hide his own smile. "you look like you've got it handled."
"i do," you agreed, climbing the porch steps, setting your basket full of tomatoes down on the banister. you leaned in to kiss him, and he accepted it eagerly, mouth smooth and insistent upon your own.
his hands wandered, as they often did, bunching up your dress between his fingers. you pulled away with a soft gasp, lightly slapping your hand against his chest. "mister mears!" you playfully scolded, "are you trying to cop a feel?"
his teeth favored his bottom lip as amusement and desire darkened his eyes. "maybe i was. can't help it, you're irresistible." he kissed you again, salaciously.
"i'm sweaty and covered in dirt," you deadpanned, when you parted.
he shook his head, hands moving to grip your hips. "mm, makes me want you even more. you've got no idea what watching you tend to the farm does to me." he took one of your hands then, lifting it to place against his crotch.
you gasped softly when you realized he was already hard.
"see? watching you garden in your little dress makes me so hard." his voice had lowered an octave. there was a gravelly edge to it that made your knees weak.
"b-ben," you whispered, suddenly void of witty retorts.
"turn around."
your eyes widened. "we...we can't."
he kissed the corner of your mouth. "why, 'cause someone'll see? there's no one around for miles, sweetheart. i could have my way with you right here on this porch and no one would even know."
that pulled an involuntary moan from you, and you swayed slightly on your feet. good thing your husband was there to steady you. you knew you had no reason to protest. your neighbors didn't live close by. no one would see.
weaving one hand through his curls, pulling him down to kiss you again, you spoke. "take me, then."
with a knowing grin, he turned you around, instructing you to bend forward and place your hands on the banister. he flipped your dress over your hips, and you heard him take in a breath when he realized you'd foregone underwear.
"you dirty girl. you knew i'd get my hands on you, didn't you?" his big, warm palm slid over the swell of your ass, and he swatted it slightly, yanking another gasp from your lungs.
"i-i had an inkling," you responded over your shoulder.
he groaned deeply, already reaching up to unbuckle his belt. "god, the things i'm going to do to you." a promise.
his fingers prodded between your thighs, gentle bit insistent, easing inside you. preparing you. coaxing that sticky arousal from you. he loved the way your body responded to him. so soft and pliant. the way your sweet little cunt grew wet for him so quickly sent his blood rushing south.
"such a good little wife," he murmured, removing his hand from you, only to slick your arousal over his hard shaft before he aligned himself with you. "letting me take you here, out in the open."
when he slipped into you, you let out a broken cry, voice echoing. his hands were steady on your hips, holding you in place as he gave you inch after inch. thick. satisfying. framed with a gathering of thick, dark curls that would soon be shimmering with the evidence of your desire.
"say it," he encouraged, as he bottomed out with a groan.
"i-i'm your good little wife!" you squeaked, hands tightening around the banister as he pulled back slightly, only to push back in fully. it stole the breath from your lungs, and your knees quaked. if he wasn't holding you, you would've dropped to the porch.
"that's right," he cooed, leaning closer, mouth hovering over your ear as he repeatedly thrust his hips forward, filling you again and again with tht gorgeous cock. "and don't you forget it."
he took you hard and fast right there, facing your farm land, a reminder of all that you had together. you were his. it was why you gave yourself to him in this way. why you let him spill his seed deep within you, staking his claim. there was something so primal about it all. getting fucked hard by your husband, as chickens squaked in the background, and the milk cow lowed in the distance.
god, you loved it. you couldn't get enough. "don't stop!" you cried, eyes rolling back in your head as he offered a particularly deep thrust.
"woudn't dream of it, honey." and he didn't. not until you were sated, full of his spend, legs trembling.
as he slowly eased his softening cock out of you, he held you steady. just as he always did. "i've got you," he assured you, arms cinching around your waist.
you smiled at him. sleepy, satisfied. "i know you do," you giggled, stumbling slightly as he led you inside to clean you up. he couldn't ignore the pleasant warmth that filled his chest as you shuffled into the old farmhouse you'd made your own.
yes indeed, this was the life he'd dreamed about. a little messy, full of giggles, and peaceful as ever. and now that he had it, had you, he would cherish it all for the rest of his day.
🐂🌽 with “wow, never thought that was something I would like” from the awkward sex talk list, where maybe they tried pegging?
i'm on fire | rhett abbott
❝ i got a bad desire. oh, i'm on fire ❞
🍓 part of my summer picnic event 🍓
—picnic masterlist | consider supporting me on ko-fi !
he was beautiful like this.
mouth parted, curls wild atop his head. vulnerable, unguarded, pliant. with each push and pull of your hips against his pert ass, he let out the prettiest involuntary sounds. not just moans, but whimpers.
it was almost pathetic, in the best way. never in a million years did you think you would be here, silicone cock buried deep inside the rough and tumble cowboy. yet, that's exactly where you found yourself. fucking him within an inch of his life. owning him.
"christ, d-don't fuckin' stop!" he cried out against the bed, fingers clutching the sheets. between his quivering thighs, his cock hung heavy and low, leaking a copious stream of liquid arousal. the sheets would be ruined once you were finished. you couldn't be bothered to care.
"yeah? you likin' that, cowboy?" you taunted, offering a particularly deep thrust that had his mouth falling open, drool pouring from his mouth.
"uh huh!" came his gasp.
you'd never heard him so vocal before. it seemed that getting fucked in the ass had rendered him unable to control the sounds he made. they rushed out of him forcefully, as if each thrust forced the sound out of his mouth.
"you're such a dirty boy," you taunted, reaching around his narrow waist to grip his aching dick.
"f-fuck! oh my g– ah!" he didn't even have it in himself to respond. his usual mouthiness was gone, replaced with open-mouthed gasps and cries. you were certain that if you could see his face fully, his tongue would be hanging out of his mouth, panting like a damn dog.
"what, don't tell me you're gonna come already. i barely even started."
something about your tone, the way you spoke, so condescendingly, made him shudder. heat licked up his spine, building and building until he was right there, on the edge, much to his own embarrassment.
"sh-shit, shit, y'gotta s-slow down," he groaned, holding onto the sheets so tightly that the corner began to slide right off the mattress.
you leaned forward, one hand pressed against his back, the other still on his cock. "i don't think i will."
and oh, how easy it was. all it took was a few more thrusts, a few more passes of your hand over that blushing, swollen, twitching shaft, and he was coming with a broken sob, body jolting roughly against the bed.
his seed spilled from him in what felt like waves, coating your hand creamy white, staining the sheets, milked out of him with each press of that silicone toy against his poor prostate.
he lost himself, trembling violently against the bed, mouth open, drooling, but hardly any sound came out, aside from broken grunts. his ears were ringing, and he swore he blacked out momentarily, because when he came to, he realized he'd collapsed against the mattress, his own cum sticky and smearing beneath his softening cock.
he could feel you, your hands gentle against his back. "easy," you soothed. "i'm gonna pull out now, okay?"
his barely there nod was what urged you to continue, and you ever so gently eased the strap on out of him, soothing him when he whined lowly at the loss. "you're okay," you assured him.
as you moved to unbuckle the strap, he moved slightly, turning over onto his back. eyes hazy, he glanced down, and his hand came down against the puddle he'd left on the sheets. "made a mess," he mumbled.
you smiled, setting your strap on aside to be cleaned later. "it's okay, i'll clean it up later. for now, i need to take care of you." you moved to settle beside him, carefully easing a pillow beneath his head. "how're you feelin'?"
his mouth curved into a sleepy, disbelieving smile. "never thought that was something i would like," came his honest reply.
"yeah?" you echoed, brushing his hair away from his forehead.
"uh huh. real intense, but...in a good way. think i saw fuckin' stars when i came." his cheeks were dusted pink. as if he hadn't just let you fuck him into the mattress like a whore.
it was your turn to smile. "yeah? well, judging by the mess you made, that must've been a great orgasm."
he nodded, welcoming your warmth as you curled into him, providing that skin to skin contact he so desperately needed. "don't think i've ever come that hard before."
"well," you continued, lips brushing lovingly over his forehead. "there's plenty more where that came from. but for now, what d'ya say we get you into a bath, cowboy? let me get you all cleaned up and ready for bed."
he hummed sleepily. "can...can we wait a minute? jus' wanna be close to you for a bit."
at that, your chest warmed with love for him. "of course, baby. we can stay here as long as you like. i've got you, i'm not going anywhere."
that was all he needed. "luh you," he mumbled as he rested his head upon your chest.
you couldn't help but beam at that. "i luh you too."
🐂🥪 where maybe they somehow get into the position where he is on her lap and her hands are rubbing his thighs and holding onto his waist. She’s all ‘woah, mama😻’ and he’s just kinda looking down at her like ‘you’re enjoying this way too much’ and she’s really into the sudden role reversal
playing with fire | rhett abbott
❝ you're out on the wire, you know you're playing with fire ❞
🍓 part of my summer picnic event 🍓
—picnic masterlist | consider supporting me on ko-fi !
"y' little menace."
you weren't entirely sure how you'd ended up here, rolling in the dirt like a couple of children wrestling in the school yard. but here you were, giggling maniacally as rhett attempted to steal his hat back, which you had so sneakily swiped off his head when he wasn't paying attention.
you hadn't expected him to wrangle you to the ground like a runaway calf, but you weren't complaining. especially not when you ended up on the ground, with your grinning boyfriend straddling your hips.
"you were quick, but i'm quicker," he teased, smirking proudly, his hat returned to its rightful place atop his head.
but you merely shrugged, moving beneath him slightly so you were sitting up, as far as you could with him on top of you. the air between you shifted as you looked up at him, realizing the precariousness of this position.
he was in the same place you'd been many times, and the reversal of the role suddenly had your head spinning. the leather of his chaps squeaked as he leaned back a little, watching realization pass over your face.
your hands lifted on instinct, resting upon his hips momentarily before you slid them lower, squeezing his ass, before your palms continued down against the backs of his strong thighs. his eyes narrowed as he gazed down upon you.
"you're enjoyin' this, ain't you baby?" he asked, smirk tugging at his mouth.""you're enjoyin' this, ain't you baby?" he asked, smirk tugging at his mouth.
"uh-huh," you breathed, hands moving back up to rest on his hips. "is this how you feel when i'm on top of you."
with a knowing smile, he ducked forward, lips hovering just over your own. "pretty much. but y'know what my favorite thing is?" his voice had lowered an octave. rough, yet still honey smooth as always.
"what?" your mouth felt loose around the syllable. your brain had stopped working, it seemed.
his nose brushed yours. "i can always feel your little pussy soakin' through your panties when you sit on me like this. s'why i love havin' you in my lap so much."
"oh." you couldn't muster a more coherent response. you were overwhelmed by his proximity. the scent of his sweat. his cologne. his sun warmed skin.
and he was loving every minute of it. how easily flustered you were. how he already had the upper hand, despite being in your lap. "yep. and i'll bet, if i touched you right now, you'd already be wet, just from me wrestlin' you to the ground."
your breath hitched, and he grinned.
"i'm right, ain't i?"
he was. you could feel it, the steady pulse of arousal directly between your thighs. that was the affect he had on you. "y-yes," you whispered in response.
smile growing still, his tongue darted out to wet his bottom lip. "that's what happens when you start playin' with fire, honeypie." he ducked down to kiss you then, teeth nipping slightly against your bottom lip. the moment you whimpered against his mouth, he pulled back, breathing slightly ragged.
"s'my turn to be a menace now." he teased, just before he scrambled to climb off your lap, leaving you sitting there stunned in the dirt.
"hey!" you finally said, once you'd gathered your wits about you. "get back here, cowboy."
he shot you a look over his shoulder, already sauntering off toward the barn. "what was it ya said to me just a few minutes ago? 'see if you can catch me'? well, c'mon then! see if you can catch me!"
with that, he broke into a sprint, laughing as he went, full of mischief.
"asshole," you muttered to yourself, though you couldn't hide your own laughter as you ran after him. he'd let you catch him eventually, but for now, he was getting you back for stealing his hat.
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