#'i ran around outside and ate dirt'

[honey-dont]

Can we see Doctor in B2 or Penny in A3?

they ran into each other in the mall

[trashmouth-richie]

older! eddie x fem! reader

summary: when your bf skips town /‘s you can’t pay your rent, you put on your best outfit and knock on your landlord’s door begging for forgiveness

@eddiemunsons-missingnipple for the Eddie edit

w/c: 3.8k

t/w: 18+ ONLY —heavy smut, degrading, hair pulling, mouth fucking, choking, edging, switch!, daddy!kink

He was an asshole to extraordinary proportions. A life full of mold covered lemons would do that to a person. You were nervous, to approach him. But something told you he’d hear you out— listen to you. Maybe even be sympathetic to your pleads.

Yeah right.

As if he were made of anything but pure hatred. Toxicity swirled in his veins, his poisoned skin covered by decades worth of tattoos; all dark and sharp edged.

His peppered scruff balanced out his naturally soft eyes. A wolf in sheep’s clothing. A scowl that would make any resident of Forest Hills Trailer Park think twice about crossing. But you were left with no choice. When Trey had ditched town with the human bicycle Chrissy Cunningham, you were short on rent. Bills were tight, and you often ate in the dark, or by candle light. Anything to save a bit of money.

And that’s what led you here. Standing at your landlord’s door. Putting on an extra swipe of lipgloss, making sure to curl your hair, and wear a low cut tank top, the only push up bra you owned, and some cheap lashes from the mall— you knocked politely on the sun faded door. Hoping for some sort of a miracle that Mr. Munson would take pity on you.

One knock. Nothing.

Another. Still nothing.

It’s not until you are slapping your hand into the door that a voice behind you startles you nearly out of your too short skirt.

“What’d’ya need?” He’s covered in motor oil and grease, standing below you on the dirt and sparse grass covered ground, wiping his hands on a once red rag, a ring of sweat around his white tank top, bandana wrapped around his head, cigarette hanging gingerly from his slack lips.

He remembers the day you had moved in, it was freezing cold in early February. All by yourself, moving things one at a time in a shitty old Buick he hadn’t seen around since his high school days. He wanted to offer his help, something he didn’t give to anyone. But something about the way you smiled as he showed you around the dingy shithole of a trailer, voicing your opinions on what could be spruced up, made him hate you a little bit less.

Everyone in the park knew not to bother Eddie. He was a grumpy, mean son of a bitch and his patience was rail fucking thin. The Johnson’s dog went missing? No shit, he was the one who called animal control to come and pick it up, fucker had fleas and probably rabies. Can I paint the kitchen? Fuck no. The sink isn’t working at lot 8. Call a mechanic. And just for the annoyance he upped their rent $100.

Seeing you on his steps, dressed like that, sparkly tits, and your bra showing through your tank top had his dick twitching in his pants. Of course you were a smoke show, and he was honestly surprised to hear that ol’ what’s his face ran out on you with Chrissy Cuntingham. Her shit had been rode hard and put away wet more times that could be accounted for. Bitch still wore her homecoming tiara and had her green and orange pom poms in the back window of her car— despite the fact that graduation was more than 25 years ago. Worse than an alleycat, and smelling like one, Chrissy mostly kept herself busy by buying the minors alcohol or showing her many “party tricks” to the bachelors of the park. Sitting on his porch, smoking a joint like he did every night, Eddie took note of the black jeep that showed up every Thursday outside trailer 6, a graying head of suave douche boy hair could only be one person, Jason Carver.

He took note that your trailer, right next to his, was full of screaming and yelling when your boyfriend was home. A noise all too familiar in the trailer park, bouncing off Eddie’s ears like birds chirping.

But when he was gone? The window to your bedroom would be cracked open ever so slightly, propped open with the soft cover of Stephen King’s IT. The kitten purr of a vibrator and your delicate moans sang out to him. A siren amongst lonely fishermen, calling out to them in song of entrapment only to eat their souls, bodies never found amongst the dark sea bed. At first he thought it was wrong to listen, wrong to hear your pleasuring yourself, but he had sworn he heard his name on your lips, more than once. Fisting his cock angrily to your voice, your wet mouth, swollen lips from him sucking on them, pretty little pussy aching for him. He didn’t need playboys anymore when he had your face to imagine. And imagine he had.

What would your sweet pussy look like wrapped around his cock? Would you swallow his load down your throat if he asked, demanded you to? Sweet thing like you wouldn’t have to worry about anything if you were his. The choked laugh after he finishes all over his hand makes him shake his head at the idea. He didn’t know your age, old enough to be on your own but definitely not 45 like he was. Visions of your sugar plum tits bouncing in his face as you rode him on the itchy couch in his living room, lulled him to sleep most nights.

He saw a peek of a tattoo on your side when you were hanging clothes on the line. Your body drove him in, his eyes melting around your curves, the swell of your ass in the jean cut off shorts you wore. When you saw him staring you waved him over, a devilish grin on your lips, a wanting sparkle in your eye.

He knew your type, trouble. And oh fuck the trouble he would love to be in. He’d never volunteered to fix anyone's appliances. But your silky saccharine voice had him calling a mechanic in a few days time, would have been sooner if he could have tore his eyes away from your tanned legs, but he kept those extra days all to himself, whimpering at night with a sore cock your name on his breath. It had been seven months of you living next door, your vibrator turned on like clockwork every day your boyfriend left for work.

And now here you are. Looking at him with “fuck me” eyes and a glossy smile on your lips. Those same lips purring out pleasantries about how fuck face left you and you were needing an extension on rent. The swell of the summer sun hit your cheeks, making you glow like some love sick angel on his steps. He was fucked. And soon— you would be too.

“So what?” He tried to gamble, tried to keep his hard facade, “an extension and then what’s next? You’re gonna tell all your little friends that I give hand outs to the needy? Oh no doll, not today.”

He pushes his way around you and into his trailer, the pungent smell of too strong incense burns your nostrils as you hold the door from him shutting it.

“Please, Mr. Muns—.”

“Eddie,” he grumbles.

“Eddie, please— I’m begging you,” the glimmer of a tear welling in your eyes, your voice dipping low into an almost whisper as you made your way inside, shutting the door behind your back and feeling around for the lock, “I’ll do anything.”

Eyes dripping of sex appeal and lust, you tip your tongue to the center of your top lip, eyeing his tightened jeans and you swear you see his dick twitch beneath the stretched denim.

Cock at full alert he shakes his head, his head dipped low and eyeing you up and down, lip bit between his teeth. A low groan in his throat, he talks in a gritting whisper, “Don’t start something you can’t finish sweetheart.”

“Oh I plan on finishing, big boy,” you hum walking towards him, devilish grin planted on your lips, “I don’t think we’ll have a problem with that, will we daddy?”

Fuck. Not even touching you yet and Eddie is rock hard, he could probably cum if you asked him to. Thanking a higher power that he wasn’t twenty anymore, he’s got years of stamina built under his worn leather belt. “You’re about to write a check your ass can’t cash doll, you sure this is what you want?”

“stop talking,” you breath, inches from his lips, he can taste the peach flavored lipgloss on his tongue, “and fuck me.”

Not needing any more of an okay than that, Eddie turns you around in a swift motion, a gasp escapes your lungs and he catches you before you stumble over your heels. He drags your hips down into him, your ass round and luscious on his stiffened length. He rips the neck of your tank top open exposing the mountainous swell of your chest and your cheap K-Mart bra. Pinching your laced nipples between his rough fingers, he rolls them like joints as his hot mouth assaults your neck, painting you, he sucks bruises into your neck, licking them better with tiny flicks of his satanic tongue and ending in a bite, marking you as his.

Pushing your ass into him you can feel his cock. His achingly girthy length has you soaking your panties, dripping wet just for him. His smokey smell is mixed with sweat as you angle your neck back against his shoulder, moaning into him as he sucks like a vampire into your neck. His stubble rubbing against your skin.

“Eddie,” you moan breathless into the humid air of his trailer.

He groans, your body pushed tight against him has his head spinning, drunk off your touch. Grabbing your skirt and yanking upward. Dripping in anticipation, your panties could be wrung out, your arousal pooling from the center and beading slowly to the ground. He hisses and hums when his finger first skates along the slick of your panties with a schlick, “fuck, all this for me doll?” He’s playing now, his thick fingers moving in lazy circles around your clit, your creamy pussy clenching desperately on nothing, you nod with a whimper.

“You gonna make all those pretty little noises I hear from your window once that dumbass you let fuck you leaves the house every day? Hmm? Didn’t think I could hear did you?” His cocky bravado kicks his cock up on your ass, sending a moan through your body as you rub deeper into him.

Quite the opposite actually

Purring into his neck you lick the expanse of skin he’s showcasing. Blowing hot on the slicked spit from your tongue, you rotate your hips to angle his fingers better on your clit, the sensitivity rolling like an electric current through your veins.

“I did it on purpose,” you confess breathlessly as Eddie’s fingers stop. “Watching you stare at me for months, I knew you’d touch yourself over me.”

Eddie groans gutturally twisting your body into the front door, back hitting the broken shades with a thud. In milliseconds he is on you, hot tongue lapping up your neck and biting with enough force to break skin. No time to be patient to have you undress for him, he shoves your skirt up tipping your panties clean off. Your exposed pussy shuddering with his blown breath on your slick core. His devilish eager tongue expertly licks and teases your clit. Humming with each jerk of your body as the sensitivity makes you squirm. Tongue wiggling inside of you like an eel, your hands are gripping his hair for dear life, yanking at the roots like you’re pulling weeds. Your thigh is on his shoulder, the leg on the ground begins to shake as your first orgasm rips like a tidal wave through you. Head thrown back against the door, moaning loud enough for the entire park to hear— you don’t care.

Your noises stir Eddie’s arousal even more. Whimpering as he grip him impossibly tighter he a broken, “fuck,” into your folds as he goes back for seconds, “you’re gonna get me into trouble, pussy so fucking sweet.” His lips are wet, your arrival shining like pretty lipgloss allover hos chin and lips. Already spent from the teasing and the damn breaking, Eddie hikes you up over his shoulder, your bare volumtuous ass bouncing with every step. He throws you onto a king sized bed, unmade and reeking of weed. Rolling papers on the night stand along with several lighters you aren’t given much time before Eddie kicks his jeans off, boxer briefs do him justice as his cock jumps to his belly when he unthreads his legs from them. Pearly beads of pre cup drip from the thick head.

Eddie leans forward and places a thick hand on your neck, your vision blurs and returns with each grip he threatens and releases his teeth biting your lips, slow drops of blood seep from his bites, he licks the wounds clean.

“Havent used rubbers since the 80’s and I won’t, so are you on the pill or are we ending this right now?”

“Pill,” you warble, chords of your neck strained against his hand.

“Thatta girl,” he praises, pressing a sweet kiss to your lips, “I’m gonna fill you up full with my cum you’ll be leaking it out for hours.. maybe days.”

Tears sting your eyes at the thought of his glorious pearly cum deep in your walls painting them pretty, “please daddy, I need it.”

Eddie grins, “so needy baby, you want this cock?” he asks, flicking it through your folds, a noise resembling macaroni and cheese is blasts from your core, he groans deep, “so fucking wet,” his lip is almost bit in half with how he’s trying to hide his excitement, “I’m gonna wreck this sweet pussy so you won’t be able to walk home.”

Whimpering like a bitch in heat, Eddie flips you over, angles your ass up, slapping each cheek hard enough a red hand print sized welt develops almost immediately, he pushes all of himself into you, bottoming out as you moan and cry thanking God in your head as you’re split open, a welcomed pain. Spit soaks his sheets from your mouth when he pulls out, “oh you can take it, honey, don’t fucking quit on me.”

“I’m n—,” gasping loudly when he spits harshly on your ass. Rubbing his thumb against the pink button. The new sensation brings color to your closed eyes, stars and shapes of all size float in your closed mind, your pussy clenched harder around Eddie as you whine his name.

“Yeah?” Eddie moans, “told you daddy would take care of you, that needle dick can’t make you feel like this can he?”

you try to choke out a ‘no’ but no noise comes out, your head is thrown back violently as Eddie grabs your hair in one hand and pounds mercilessly into you.

Eddie is grunting with each slap of his heavy sack against your clit, “this is what you came here for right? Bad girl can’t pay her rent so she came to fuck the owner in exchange?” His taunting only makes you wetter, makes you clench his harder as you come undone for the second time. Screaming his name until you’re breathless. Panting and sweating like you ran a marathon. He gives you one more deep thrust of his hips and watches you fall forward.

“Look at the mess you made you little whore,” Eddie spits, venom laced words on that glory filled tongue, as he drags you by your hair to look at his soaked cock, “lick it up, want you to know how fucking sweet you taste.”

Eddie flips you over like a rag doll, positioning you the way he wants. Head dangling off the mattress, Eddie groans as he jams his cock into your throat, holding it there and choking you simultaneously. He reached to the night stand and grabs a black small vibrator placing it on your clit. The vibrations make you moan and choke around his length and against his hand. Eyelids fluttering shut you’re positive you can’t breathe, just when you’re about to pass out he brings you back, letting you breathe for a few seconds, chuckling to himself as you enter the hazy bliss of intoxicating euphoria. Your body convulses under his. Begging for a third orgasm, you can taste the earthy tang of your release and Eddie’s pre cum mix on your tongue.

His girth fills your throat completely, barely leaving room for your own tongue in your mouth. He’s dripping sweat onto your own body you can feel it slip from your belly button down into the curve of your neck. Eddie's hair is swaying in conjuncture with his hips slamming home against your face. Using your mouth like his own fist has you soaking the sheets, clit over stimulated, a deep bruise settling inside the soft silk of your velvet folds. A bruise you’d wear proudly for weeks to come.

Slapping your face as you gag lightly, mind steadily focusing on the jerking of your legs and the vibrating pulse of your cunt. Eddie shushes you reassuring you, tauntingly “someone too big for their britches huh? Work through it, sweetheart— that’s it, fuck good girl,” he chokes a whimper down his own throat as your tongue swirls around him. “Christ, swallowing what I give you, such a good girl for daddy.” Eddie thrusts one more deep cant of his hips into your mouth groaning deeply when you hollow your cheeks. Letting you breathe freely.

“You like that? Like me using you like a worthless fucking toy?” Eddie lifts you up to his face by your hair, kissing your lips delicately, you nod and whimper as he harshly sucks and nips at your neck leaving purpling marks in his wake.

Unabashedly you scratch your long nails into his chest, leaving your own mark on him as he groans against your skin. “My turn,” you whisper as you crawl into a standing position in front of him. Kissing him sweetly and pulling his bottom lip between your teeth, he whimpers at your touch. A tantalizing smile radiates across your lips. Eddie Munson a switch? Who knew? Pushing his shoulders backwards he falls on the bed, curtains of curls cascade around him and his face is turned up in shock then to a satanic grin.

Wiggling your tight skirt down your body you stand in only your heels.

“Fuck, you are a goddess.” Eddie groans, stroking his thick length in slow rhythmic motions as he stares at your body shamelessly, you climb towards him on his messy sheets between his legs your poor abused throat sore and bruised from his animalistic fucking.

His chest is littered with tattoos both old and new, faded and blown out lines mixed amongst sharp edged fresh ones stark against his pale skin. Blistering red lines decorate him from your nails earlier. Knees on either side of his hips you slot your pussy lips against his needy thick cock, sliding forward and back again, your hands on his chest for leverage. Leaning up on his elbows and moving you both backwards so he can rest his back against the headboard, he scants forward to kiss you but you push his forehead away dumbly.

Tsking and using few words to speak with a hoarse voice you whisper, “no touching.” Grinding your hips down into him, pocketing his cock in your slick folds like a sword in a sheath, you lick a stripe up his neck and land at this ear, your pretty moans singing to him like a demon seeking a naive victim. His hips jump with each roll of your own, desperate for relief he whimpers and whines as he’s close and you retreat. Starting all over again. After the third go around his bangs are stuck to his forehead, cheeks warm with a frustrated, worked up blush as you edge him again and again.

“Mmm’ fuck that’s a good cock daddy,” you moan as you come hard on his cock again making a mess yet again, he groans as you milk him for all he’s worth, your creamy pussy clenching against him, and your denial of his release is too much for him. “you wanna come for me?”

Eddie nods in spent anticipation, practically tearing up from being so worked up and being able to release himself. “Please— I can’t,” he groans, as you start grinding on him again, only this time you give in, hugging him in a pinky sheath of gummy walls and slick floors. “Christ,” he melts as you bounce atop his cock, dragging your hips backward and forward helping him hit the spot you so desperately craved from him. His thick hands are on your hips moving you to his liking, a pebbled nipple in his mouth makes you cry out his name as he pumps into you holding you still.

He slaps your ass, “I’m gonna come, shit, fuck!” He hums your name as hot ropes of his thick release coats your walls and floods out you don’t stop riding him, coaxing every last drop out of him until he’s hissing through his teeth as his softened length falls out of you, hot, reddened and aching.

Eddie pulls you to him, kissing your neck and scooting you both down the bed. “Think you’re my favorite tenant,” he laughs as you lay motionless on top of him, both breathing heavily.

“Jesus, I’d hope so, but maybe Miss Richard’s comes over here to get some money knocked off her rent,” you tease, tracing circles into his spotty chest hair, “heard she’s real pretty in her nightgown, just gotta be careful of her poligrip.”

He laughs again, smacking your ass, “you’re a fuckin’ brat y’know that?”

“And you’re a filthy fucker, quite the pair I’d say,” you spit before biting his chest.

Eddie yanks you by your hair to look you in the eyes, “not every day a pretty baby like you comes knocking on my door to rattle my cage and get free rent. But I’d like if you came over more often, that attitude needs adjusting.”

“oh really?” you question, hand under your chin like you’re bored as you roll your eyes, “and your old ass is gonna be the one to tame me huh?”

You spend a greater part of the night bent over Eddie’s knee, his studded belt in his hand as he whips you again and again. Tears spill from your eyes, and coat his thighs. Eddie’s sadistic ass only grins, a joint hanging limply from his lips, shushing you softly, “don’t cry honey, I told you your ass wouldn’t be able to cash that check.”

-

-

👅 I’m gonna go touch grass now

[driflew]

im talking abt witch au in a server so im posting another scene from it. this time Ren fuckign dies.

Martyn hears the fuss before he sees it. He’s looking for Ren—the dog ran off, but the sun has broken through the trees, so Martyn figures it’s not the dog he’s looking for anymore. Ren’s probably sitting naked in the forest somewhere, and as treatable as it would be, Martyn plans to find him before he catches a cold. 

“Don’t let him up—you saw how big his claws were,” says a voice Martyn only sort of recognizes, though what he says is… 

“I’m not stupid. I’m not taking any risks with this thing—I’m not catching whatever he’s got,” another voice, even less familiar. 

“I’m not going to hurt you,” this voice, Martyn cannot mistake—Ren. 

Martyn steps a bit closer. He’s just outside the edge of the clearing, ducking behind a tree. Not immediately obvious to anyone in the center, though Martyn can see Ren from his hiding place. He’s surrounded by a few men—Martyn doesn’t know their names, but he knows them to be some of Ren’s neighbors. Most of them steer clear of Ren, but one has his boot on the back of Ren’s neck. 

Ren’s hands are muddy. There’s dirt under his nails and across his stomach. Hair falls around his face, and blood stains his teeth and chin. He looks like an animal, and Martyn’s heart hurts looking at him. 

“Must be full from whatever you already ate, you piece of shit,” the first voice says, and Martyn hears Ren make a choked noise of pain—the man must be increasing the pressure. “Whose blood is that?!” 

“No one’s!” Ren’s wheezing, just a bit, “I caught a deer, that’s all.” 

“A deer never satisfies a thing like you.” 

Ren is caught and there’s no doubt about it, and that means there’s nothing left Martyn can do for him. His cloak is dark, and though the rising sun means it won’t help him hide as well, it’s still effective. If Martyn slips away now, he’ll… he can… 

“My cousin had a wolfman in his town. He said it didn’t stop hunting until it had found a man big enough to chew on until the sun rose again.” 

“I didn’t! I wouldn’t,” Ren insists, “You know me, I’ve lived here since I was born. I wouldn’t. You know that!” 

Martyn tugs his hood on, biting the inside of his mouth. He needs to leave, but leaving Ren is…

“Oh, sure,” scoffs someone else, “And I knew you were human, too. But you’ve turned, and you can't trust a wolf.” 

Ren actually whimpers, a sound Martyn has only ever heard him make as the dog. It hurts to hear, but it has Martyn taking an uncertain step to the side, unsure if he wants to run away. 

He threw Ren to the wolves the first time Ren came to him in order to protect himself—he could have cured Ren, but he didn’t, wanting to keep from the magic he’d have to use for a cure being discovered and reported. 

Ren wouldn’t have reported him. He knows that now. If he’d cured Ren, this wouldn’t be happening. 

…But it is. Ren is doomed, and what can Martyn even do? He’s not a hero. He’s barely—

“Hey!” someone calls. Martyn’s head snaps up, and he locks eyes with the owner of the voice. “There’s someone else there! Who are you?!” 

Martyn takes a step back, but the nearest man grabs him by the arm, yanking him into the light. Ren twists his head under the boot on his neck, and his face pales as Martyn is dragged into the light. 

“Christ, do you mind?! Jeez!” Martyn says, shaking the man’s hand off. He brushes his sleeve, annoyed—he’s doing his absolute best to play the part of a random passerby, “What on earth is going on here? I came out to collect some medicinal herbs, and you’ve got some guy under your… is that Ren?” 

“Used to be. Wolf’s curse has him now. Who knows how long ago he turned,” someone says, “Dunno if you’ve ever really met Ren, Doctor.” 

“You’re collecting herbs, you said?” another says, “Why don’t you have any in your basket?” 

Martyn looks down and bites back a swear. All he brought was food, water, and a cloak and some loose pants for Ren—obvious ties, and a clear contradiction to his alibi. 

“Yeah, just woke up and came out for them, though I haven’t found any,” Martyn says, “Easiest to look for by sunlight.” 

“You know, Doctor, I heard something weird about you,” says the one with a shoe on Ren’s neck. Ren lets out a choked noise, another pound of pressure on his spine. “I heard you were seen with the wolf a few months ago.” 

“What? Like, Ren?” Martyn asks, playing innocent, “Sure, Ren comes to my stand, but I thought he was sick…?” 

“Not at your stand. In the night,” the man says, “I heard you’re fraternizing with rabid animals. You’re a witch.” 

Martyn laughs, a touch nervous, “A witch? No. I’m a great doctor and all, but I’m not magic.” 

“You were commanding the wolf-thing, making it obey you. Only a witch could do that,” the man insists, “Joseph’s wife saw you. She looked out the window at the awful beast and saw it knock your hood down before it submitted to your command.” 

“That’s— your friend’s wife must have mistaken me for someone else,” Martyn says. 

“My wife knows what she saw!” says a man who must be Joseph, not that Martyn cares to turn around and check which one that is. 

“You’ve been spending time with him even when he’s not in the form of a monster,” someone says, and Martyn sweats. He should have kicked Ren out, he should have decided not to check on Ren that night, he should have— 

“Martyn’s helping me with the other symptoms,” Ren’s voice cuts through Martyn’s spiraling. Martyn’s head snaps down to watch as Ren attempts to look up at his captors. “I didn’t tell him about my— my curse. He didn’t know. I didn’t tell him.”

“Doesn’t make him not a witch.” 

“He’s not!” Ren insists, “He’s a friend I lied to. Nothing else.”

“The witch was commanding him,” says another man, taking a step closer to Martyn. There’s an axe in his hand, still clean. “He must be commanding Ren now. Why else would Ren defend him?” 

“He didn’t do anything!” Ren insists, “I swear. I swear, Martyn hasn’t used any magic. Please leave him alone, please.” 

Martyn looks down at Ren begging on the ground and his stomach turns with nausea. Ren isn’t prideful, exactly, but like this he seems to have no pride at all.

It shreds Martyn inside to see him like that. Even now, it’s not his own life he’s begging for—Ren wants to protect Martyn. Christ, and Martyn had been about to leave him. 

Martyn knows how it’ll make him look, but he pulls the cloak out of his basket and steps toward Ren. 

“I’m not going to do anything,” Martyn says, holding up the cloak to show the men, “But c’mon. He’s not an animal. Ren’s always been a good man. Let him have some semblance of his dignity before you kill him.” 

“Careful,” the man with a foot on Ren says, “This isn’t Ren anymore. If you’d seen the claws on him…” 

“I’ll be careful,” Martyn says, “Just let him up a second. He’s got no claws anymore.”

The man with a foot on Ren’s neck stares, then releases their hold on him. Martyn only hesitates a moment before kneeling in front of Ren, throwing the cloak over him like a blanket. 

“Sit up,” Martyn whispers, dropping his hand to Ren’s hair. He threads his fingers through for barely a moment before removing them, “Don’t die lying down in the dirt.” 

Ren does as he’s told, sitting up and pulling the cloak around his front. He doesn’t look much better—he’s still dirty, with a bloody chin and knotted hair—but at least he can claim some small piece of pride. 

The way he looks at Martyn is devastating. This close, Martyn can see the sad, guilty eyes, the defeated hang of his shoulders. Martyn may have known he was doomed when he saw him here, but it’s another thing to see defeat so obvious on the face of someone so stubborn and headstrong as Ren. 

Martyn actually gets up and takes a step back—he can’t be that close to Ren looking at him like that. 

The man who had been standing on Ren earlier drops his sword down, holding the edge below Ren’s neck. Ren doesn’t flinch—less an admirable display of courage, and more a simple acceptance of what’s to come. 

“So, Doctor, why did you have that with you?” the man asks, “You’re already wearing a cloak. You wouldn’t carry it unless you knew someone would need it.” 

Martyn looks at his basket. There’s still a pair of pants in there, making his alibi tricky. 

“I did know he’d need it,” Martyn admits, quiet. 

“I told him. I asked him to bring it. I didn’t tell him why,” Ren lies again, fingers tight on the edge of the cloak. 

“Like hell! He was with you, wasn’t he?!” the man says. 

“The wolf defending him is proof. He must be brainwashed by the witch’s magic,” another man says. 

“Monsters have to stick together. Just get rid of them both!” 

“No,” Martyn says, “Look, Ren, I appreciate you lying for me, but you don’t have to. I did know about Ren’s affliction, but we were treating it as just that—an illness. I’ve been trying to help him treat it for the past few months. I never commanded him, never spent a night with him, but we’ve tried a few medicines to lessen the effects of the moon on him and keep him in check. I knew, but not because I’m a witch. I’m a doctor, and Ren came to me as a patient looking for a cure. That’s all.”

“Why wouldn’t you just report him?!” 

“Like I said,” Martyn says, taking another step back, “Ren’s always been a good man.”

Someone grabs Martyn’s arm, stopping him from moving any further back. 

“Good enough to make yourself this damn suspicious for?” he asks, “Because the way I see it, you protected him ‘cuz you’re a witch, and he’s your bitch.”

Martyn resists the urge to cringe at the taunt, trying his best to maintain that aloof doctor facade he’s been wearing so effortlessly for years. He scoffs, folding his arms. 

“No one is good enough to make myself this suspicious over. Especially not some wolfman I just met,” Martyn says, “But could you imagine how much money I’d have made if I’d actually cured him? There’s no one else in the world who could do that. I could charge anything I wanted for it. I saw the chance and I took it, but clearly, it hasn’t paid off.”

Ren says nothing, face unreadable, and Martyn scrambles to make it clear he’s lying. 

“Hell,” Martyn adds, gesturing one arm at Ren, “I could charge Ren anything I wanted. He couldn’t not pay what I asked—at best, I would stop trying to cure him. At worst, I could report what he was to everyone. Shame it had to end this way, though.”

“I knew I shouldn’t have trusted you,” Ren whispers. There’s a venom to it Martyn has never seen from Ren before, far more convincing than Martyn expects. Ren’s head snaps up, and the pain in his eyes has a fire behind it now, “You were supposed to help me!” 

“I would’ve! But I don’t want to be a small town doctor forever,” Martyn says, “The city’s much nicer. I almost have enough to open my own practice, and a few more, er… we’ll say treatments for you would have helped a lot. Especially if any of them had actually worked.”

“Is that all you wanted from me? My money?” Ren asks. 

“I mean, sure. What’s a wolfman need with money, anyway?” Martyn asks, “Your lot never live long. Do you mind if I collect your estate after this? It’s not much anymore, but it’d be really nice to sell the rest.”

“Bastard,” Ren spits. 

“That doesn’t sound like a no,” Martyn says, and Ren bares his teeth into a snarl. Almost immediately, the sword at his neck cuts into his flesh, turning his growl into a sound of pain. 

“Stop riling him up,” the man says, “We don’t know what he’s capable of.”

“Right,” Martyn says, putting up his arms and taking another step back. If they knew Ren like he does, they’d know the answer is nothing. Ren wouldn’t hurt any of them. 

Not that Ren defends himself. He keeps glaring at Martyn, and though it hurts, it’s better than the despair. 

“We need him dead. We’ve stalled long enough already,” the man holding Martyn’s arm says. 

“Just run him through already!” says someone behind him. 

“Drown him, wolves can’t swim,” 

“Yes they can! You have to burn them.” 

“That’s witches, idiot!” 

Ren seems a bit paler as they argue. Martyn can only imagine how he feels—these are neighbors he’s known all his life, and now they’re debating his manner of death right in front of him. It’s the end of the line, and a gruesome one at that. 

“No! All of you are wrong. You have to cut its head off,” someone else yells, “Wolfmen are sturdy, they don’t die any other way.” 

“Hey, Doctor,” the man with the sword says. “Do you ever treat animals?”

“Occasionally,” Martyn says, unsure if he likes the question. 

“Have you ever put down a dog?”

“What?” Martyn asks. His callous costume slips for a moment, though he’s quick to put it back on. “Sure, once or twice. I don’t usually bother with treating dogs, though.” 

“You bothered with a wolf.” 

“A lucrative wolf. People don’t pay as much for dogs as they would themselves,” Martyn says, “Medicine doesn’t generalize that much, you know. I don’t know how to treat anything on an animal beyond stitching up a wound.”

“Sure, sure,” the man says, “But everything dies the same. Even wolfmen. Even witches.”

Martyn narrows his eyes. “I’m not a witch.”

“Prove it, then,” the man says. He pulls his sword away, offering it to Martyn. “Kill the wolfman. If he really means nothing to you, it should be easy. Otherwise, I’ll assume you’re a witch in league with him.”

“I don’t even know how to, to— what do you even want me to do?” Martyn asks. 

“You’ve chopped firewood, haven’t you?” the man asks, “It’s probably like that.”

Martyn stares at Ren a long time, but Ren isn’t looking at him. His knuckles are white, and at the hem, his hand shakes. 

If Martyn can do nothing else for Ren, he can at least make this quick. 

“If it’s like firewood,” Martyn says, “Give me an axe.”

— — —

They set Ren up on an old stump. It’s a bit too tall, and the position he takes the lean his neck against it is awkward, undignified. Most of what they do leading up to his death is—letting him keep the cloak is the only reprieve they afford him. No one lets him wipe the blood from his mouth or pull the twigs from his hair. He’s barely even let off the ground to move to his chopping block—it would be too easy to run on his own two feet, and so he’s made to crawl. 

Martyn is the final person willing to even to use Ren’s name. 

“Part your hair, Ren,” Martyn instructs, “I don’t want to miss.” 

Ren is allowed to do that, at least, pulling his hair away to clear up the skin there. Martyn tugs down the back of the cloak himself, letting his fingers linger at the base of Ren’s spine, looking at what, exactly, he’s about to do. 

His throat is pressed against old bark, putting him at an odd angle. Martyn says nothing, another of many decisions he’ll come to regret. 

“Okay,” Martyn mutters, lifting the axe, “Any last words?”

Ren closes his eyes. “I’ll see you in Hell, Doctor.” 

It should sound like an insult, but Martyn knows it isn’t. It doesn’t make it any easier. 

Martyn swings. The angle is crooked, diagonal against Ren’s bent neck. Martyn knows he’s fucked it when he hears the sound Ren makes: a choked scream, loud enough to startle the birds and as pained as it is wet. 

Martyn rips the axe out of his flesh. Blood streams down the blade and onto the cloak, but Martyn ignores it. Ren begins to sag and Martyn panics, slamming it back down. This angle is worse, and Ren cries a second time. His body shudders, patches of hair appearing on his shoulders and down his arms. There’s shouting behind Martyn, but he doesn’t process the words.  

Ren is in pain. The wolf has only ever wanted to protect him, to soothe him. He’s scared and in pain and the wolf wants to help and it’s Martyn that’s causing it. 

Martyn slams the axe down a third time. Ren makes no noise, at least, or maybe it’s drowned out by the splatter of blood, or the axe hitting bone, or bark snapping under the grip of Ren’s claws. 

Martyn’s hands and chest and legs are covered in it. He’ll probably never feel clean again. 

Rip. Raise. Swing. Rip. Raise. Swing. 

It takes a total of five blows before Martyn hits wood, Ren’s head falling away onto the dirt. 

His body slumps against the wood, leaving blood smeared all down the bark. Like a spider’s legs curling in death, the claws and fur retract as the life leaves him. He looks smaller like that, crumpled against the ground. 

He’s dead. Ren is dead, and Martyn murdered him. 

Martyn processes very little about the next few moments. He’s only seen a few bodies in his life, but this is the worst yet. Ren had been kind beyond anyone Martyn had ever met, and Martyn had killed him. If Martyn had cured him, if Martyn had sedated him, if Martyn had stepped in and saved him, if—

“—tor, Doctor!” Martyn snaps back to attention. The man with the sword is in front of him, and he actually looks concerned. 

“He’s— I’m so, you—” Martyn doesn’t know what he’s saying. Ren is dead and he wants to apologize and he wants to curse this man’s entire bloodline to ends twice as gruesome and violent. He feels small, smaller than Ren against that stump. He feels like a kid again, trying not to sob as he’s carried away from Jay’s smoldering house. His vision is blurring already, and his hands are shaking so bad that he can barely hold the axe. 

“Jesus, you look like you’re going to be sick.”

“I am,” Martyn says, honest. He hears the axe fall to the ground, though he’s not aware of letting it go. 

“Haven’t you, like, done surgery?” the man asks. 

“That— it’s, not like that,” Martyn says, “They don’t— they don't bleed that much. They’re not— they don’t feel— they don’t make noise.”

He hears someone behind him say something like ‘can’t be a witch with such a weak stomach.’ Jay had a weak stomach, too. Was no good at hurting anyone, not even if he wanted to. Not even to defend himself. 

Just like Ren. Not like Martyn. 

Martyn had always thought, if he’d only had the power he has now, he’d have leapt to Jay’s defense. He’s always told himself he’d have saved the only person who ever loved him, comforted himself with versions of the world where he and Jay escaped. 

Ren didn’t love him, but Ren had made himself the only other person who’d gotten so far as to like him. And Martyn hadn’t just let him die, no—Martyn had killed Ren himself. 

What was the point of all this power if Martyn is still a coward? How did he let it happen again? When did he lose sight of what he’d gained it all for?

What can he do with it now? 

“Take a seat, man,” the man says, and Martyn shakes his head—if he sits now, he’ll never get the nerve to move again. 

What can he do with his magic? There must be some way to fix this. Martyn is a healer, better than any other. There must be some spell for sutures or blood or bone, something that could fix this, something that could bring Ren back to h— 

…Something that could bring Ren back. 

Martyn looks up, finally meeting the man’s eyes. He’s still shaking, but he gathers what determination he can. 

“Let— let me bury him,” Martyn says. 

“What?”

“Let me,” Martyn tries again, trying to keep his voice from trembling, “Let me bury him.”

“Why the hell would you bury a wolfman?”

“So he, his body,” Martyn’s determined, but the adrenaline in his body has him scrambled. It’s hard to think, to speak, “It’ll infect the, the wolves, if— if they eat it, the local wolves, they’ll, if we just—”

The man raises a hand, cutting him off.

“So we’ll burn it,” the man says. Martyn shakes his head. 

“I need to, to be the one to,” Martyn says, and when he can’t explain himself, he tacks on the one bit of magic even humans recognize: “Please.” 

“No graveyard will take a wolfman,” the man says. 

“I’ll bury him out here,” Martyn says, “Please.”

“Why does this matter so much to you?” the man asks, “Don’t tell me you feel guilty.”

“I’ve never— I’ve never lost a patient before,” Martyn says, almost a whisper. The man’s face actually softens. He believes Martyn to be a human doctor, after all, simply in the wrong place at the wrong time. He sets a hand on Martyn’s shoulder, sympathetic. 

“I know he looked human, but that thing wasn't human anymore,” he says, “You don’t have to feel bad. It was us or him.”

Martyn doesn’t want to be us with this man. Being safe with these people isn’t worth this. It wasn’t worth Jay. Martyn has paid so steeply for this safety and belonging, and it was never worth a goddamned thing. 

“Ren’s always— always been a good man,” Martyn says, “Just— I need to do this. Let me do this. Please.”

The man sighs, squeezing Martyn’s shoulder. “If this is what you need to sleep tonight.”

It isn’t. If only it were so simple as ever sleeping again. 

“Thank you,” Martyn says anyway. 

— — —

The first thing Martyn does is close Ren’s eyes. 

He doesn’t look at them. He has no idea what Ren’s expression looks like because he doesn’t want to know. He doesn’t check, instead focusing on picking him up. 

He picks Ren’s head up first, gentle, respectful as he can be. He doesn’t take Ren by his hair or hold him by the face, instead cupping Ren’s chin in his hands. Ren’s hair cascades down his arms unobstructed, wet strands and the drenched wound coating Martyn’s sleeves in even more blood. 

Next, Martyn empties the basket. That’s careless—Martyn dumps everything on the ground without even looking. The only thing he picks back up is the pants, which he lays down on the base of the basket, just to give Ren a bit of a cushion when he rests him inside. 

Martyn sets his head down gently, leaning on his cheek. Though he tries to put Ren’s hair inside the basket, plenty of it spills out over the edges. 

Once Ren is secure, he sets the basket in the crook of his arm, and he moves to the rest of him. 

Ren’s body is still curled against the stump. The bleeding has slowed, but it hasn’t stopped entirely.

First, Martyn lays Ren’s body on his back. He covers Ren as best he can with the cloak, wrapping him carefully in the dark fabric. It’s difficult to see blood on, at least, though his stained neck is impossible to miss. Martyn has to be careful as he bends down, hooking his arms under Ren’s knees and back without tipping Ren’s head out of his basket. 

Ren is light when Martyn finally stands. Martyn’s already exhausted—staying up all night hadn’t done him any favors, nor had his awful morning—but he notices that. Ren had been a lumberjack before he… got sick. He must’ve lost the muscle at some point, though Martyn hadn’t noticed. 

Martyn rubs his thumb against Ren’s shoulder through the fabric of his cloak. His body is still warm. 

“It’s going to be okay, Ren,” he whispers, unable to care about being overheard. “I’ll take care of you. I’ll fix this. I’ll fix everything. I promise.”

He doesn’t apologize—as much as he wants to, Martyn holds his tongue. Now isn’t the time for apologies. 

Martyn will save it until Ren can hear it.

[bellarkeselection]

Can I request a John Dutton x Reader Fic?

John and Reader have been dating for a year or longer now and they’ve been keeping it a secret from his kids, they sneak around like teenagers running through the house after hours sort of dynamic and sneaking through the ranch after hours. I’m thinking maybe they stayed up late and took two of the hours on a little “trip” and get caught by Rip and Beth and Kayce who come looking for the horses ?

Noisy Kids Can’t Ruin This

When I first thought of agreeing to go on a date with John Dutton I certainly didn't imagine this. I didn't imagine that we would end up dating for close to two years. But the thing that really is throwing me off is the fact that we have been sneaking around for that long without his children knowing about us. Getting out of my truck I walked through the dirt gravel until I reached the white barn with the Yellowstone Y above the doorway. “John! Are you here?”

“In the back stall, darling.” He called out to me quietly but loud enough for me to be able to hear.

Entering the barn the lights were dim yet I could still see where he was. John was standing outside the last stall throwing a saddle over one of the two horses he had taken out of the wooden stables. “So why did you call me saying to meet here. I thought we were eating at home?”

“Oh we still are. Just a little differently than you thought.” He said, offering his hand to help me up onto my horse. I swung my left leg over the saddle and got as comfortable as I could on the horse. John climbed on his own horse looking at me before he ran out of the barn and I did my best to follow after him. “Follow me, Y/n.”

We rode past the fences and up through the mountains. The stars were above our heads since it was the middle of the night and everyone else was asleep. Normally we would spend the night with cooked dinner by the fireplace. Half the time we would sneak around so his kids didn't find out about us. John dismounted his horse holding his hat down on his head with his hand. He comes over helping me off my horse where I tilted my head seeing there was a small fire going, two chairs, and a tent pitched up. “John, what’s all this for?”

“Since we normally ate dinner at my house. I thought I should change the scenery for our date.” He explained to me slowly walking down to the fire with me at his side. He sat down removing his black hat from his head.

I sat down hugging my knees to my chest smiling at him. “Well I have absolutely no problem with this. It’s actually cute and reminds me of camping.”

“My family does call this the summer camp actually. I thought it was time you got to see it for the weekend.” He replied, turning his attention back to the burning fire in front of us.

John opened us each a beer and there was a comfortable silence that fell between us. It was rare that we got to spend time together given that his ranch was everything to him. Raising the bottle to my mouth I had almost drunk half the bottle before I felt John drape his arm over my shoulder. He turned his head slightly so we were looking the other in the eye. “I don’t think I could be happier anywhere else. You’re all I need Y/n.”

“I feel the same about you, John.” I smiled, leaning forward and kissing him slowly. He leans forward moving one hand to cradle my cheek deepening the kiss enjoying the other's company until we heard someone coming in our direction where we seperated from one another.

Three horses came to a halting stop and two flashlights were pointed at us. Blinking my eyes I could recognize Rip since I had seen him working late at night when I would sneak out of John’s house to go home. “There you are, sir.”

“Daddy, what the hell are you doing out here with a random girl. Are you trying to replace our mother?” The blonde female that I had to assume was Beth scolded.

Kayce dismounted his horse standing right beside it lowering his flashlight towards the ground. “Beth, don’t jump to the point of wanting to rip her head off.”

“What the hell are you all doing here?” John questions sitting his beer bottle down and I could hear the anger in her voice by the fact that they were here right now.

Rip nodded towards his boss. “I’m sorry for the interruption, sir. But I saw some missing horses when I went to close up the barn and then these two we’re getting worried when you didn’t answer your cell.”

Running a hand through my hair I sighed laying on my back on the blankets. I couldn’t believe that they were freaking out about us and even more so that we had now been found out. “I can’t believe this is happening…” Beth glared at me still sitting on her horse like she was about to hurt me.

“I am a grown man with what I thought were fully grown children. I can take care of myself so what made you think that you needed to start panicking about me?” John said back to them.

I glanced over to John out of the corner of my eye nervously rubbing the back of my neck. “I guess we should have expected this after we’ve been hiding this secret for so long.”

“You mean the secret that you have been sleeping with my father which is making me now want to kick your ass!” Beth dismounted her horse stomping up to my direction with her hands turned into fists.

I slowly got to my feet, not sure when she was going to start a fight with me. “Beth, look I am not sleeping with your father. Yes, we are dating. But I swear that is it, nothing else.”

“Now I’m the bitch about to attack you like a bear.” She growled at me.

Rip moved forward wrapping his arms around her and holding her back from attacking me. She grunted against him while Kayce shrugged his shoulders looking at me. “I’m sorry for my sister. She can be a little overprotective of anyone in our family.”

“Alright now that you see I am alive and not in danger can you all leave me alone until tomorrow evening. I have been planning this date for a few weeks now and I don’t want you ruining it please.” John got up to his feet standing in front of his children and led ranch hand.

Rip tipped his hat to him climbing back on his horse. “I’ll see you tomorrow, sir. You have a good night, you two.”

“Be safe you two.” Kayce nodded his head kicking his horse and he rode away with Rip into the dark and I knew both of them were waiting for Beth before they would leave us alone.

Beth still glared at me waving her finger in a warning tone climbing back up onto her horse going to meet the boys down the hill. “If she hurts you I will make her pay in ways she’s never thought of in her life. Mark my words!”

“I’m sorry about all the drama tonight. I had no clue they would come looking for me. I hope I didn’t make the date go down too badly.” John came back and sat down resting his hands on his knees giving me a half smile where I could tell he was nervous now.

Snuggling up against his side I wrapped my arms around him whispering in his ear just focusing my attention on the beautiful stars above our heads since nothing else mattered, just the two of us. “They didn’t ruin it, John. Nobody could ruin this as long as you’re here with me cause I am falling in love with you.”

“I’m relieved, Y/n. Because I am falling in love with you too.” He smiled longingly down at me, cradling my face in his hand kissing me. He used his other hand placing his cowboy hat on my head and that was how we spent our evening together.

Comments really appreciated ❤️

[thecharacterchronicler]

He’s All That I’ve Got || William H. Bonney x Reader || Smut

Outline: Your lover is on the run but he pays you a heated visit.

Word Count: 1’925

Warnings: Explicit smut.

Author’s note: this is Prompt # 25, sorry if it’s totally off, I just started the show.

You woke up to the sound of birds in the trees surrounding the small shack you lived in, stirring in your bed. The other side of the matress was cold, which was a regular occurrence lately, reminding you that you were about to spend another day on your own.

You got up and got dressed, not putting many efforts in fixing your appearance since no one - apart from the few animals you kept - was going to see it. You put your boots on under your dress and tied an apron around your hips before you stepped outside, the fresh morning dew covering the high grass surrounding the shack tickling your ankles as you walked to the chicken coop.

You opened the door and greeted your two chickens, finding it oddly comforting to have at least them to keep you company on the isolated land you had settled on. You gathered some of the eggs they laid, carefully placing them in the pocket of your apron. Then, you inspected a hole in the fence around their enclosure, adding repairing it to your long list of chores.

After you ate your breakfast on the porch, you washed your clothes in a bucket of cold water, struggling to take out some of the grass stains from your skirts. It’s only once most of your outfits were back to having an acceptable appearance that you carried them to the long clothesline that hung between two pillars behind the house. You methodically placed each item over it, knowing that the warm summer breeze will have them dry in no time.

You picked your empty basket back up, a sigh escaping your lips as the stray cat that relied on you for food came to rub its fur against your legs, a clear attempt at charming you into giving him an extra meal today.

You probably would have gave in, unable to resist its big green eyes and its soft meows, but something in the distance called for your attention. A moving form was quickly approaching, a horse not even following the dirt road but galloping straight through the meadow of tall grass, mounted by a dark silhouette you weren’t sure you recognized that far off in the horizon.

You quickly retreated back inside the small house, grabbing your Lancaster pistol from its place on your nightstand. You went back out on the porch, awaiting your mysterious visitor prepared to fend for yourself if you had to… But all your mistrust vanished like snow in the sun when you finally were able to distinguish the traits of the man. He was a wanted man, a notorious criminal, always on the run… But still, you ran to him, holding your skirt up high as you rushed through tall grass and wildflowers.

When he saw you, he stopped his horse and jumped down to meet you halfway, catching you in his arms as soon as you collided against him.

“You’re back !” You exclaimed, emotion seizing you at the throat as you buried your face against his chest, wondering if it was yet another dream or if it was really him, returning home.

“Told you I’d always come back to you.” He said, his arms tightly holding your body against his.

“I know, but I’m always so afraid that something might happen and I wouldn’t see you ever again…”

His fingers gently caressed your cheek before lifting your chin up to him, so that he could kiss your lips. He smiled at you reassuringly and, for a moment, you got so profoundly lost into his blue eyes that you didn’t immediately notice all the cuts and injuries on his face.

“You’re hurt !”

“Just a few scratches.” He retorted, but still winced when you traced a particularly deep cut above his eyebrow with your thumb.

“Come inside, I’ll patch you up.”

You walked together to the shack and he led his horse to the small shelter he had built for it. He spread hay for him and you filled a bucket with fresh water for the animal to drink before you went back inside, followed closely by Billy.

You pulled your pistol out of your apron’s pocket and placed it on the kitchen table as he took a seat on the chair next to it. You heard him chuckle as you rummaged through the kitchen cabinets, in search of what you needed to take care of his wounds.

“I see you were ready to welcome some unwanted visitors.” He remarked, his eyes on your weapon.

“Always.” You replied and he smiled at you with a spark of approval in his eyes. After all, he had been the one to teach you to shoot a gun, and he had been particularly adamant that you had one with you at all times, instructing you to not hesitate to shoot first and ask questions later.

You poured some liquor on a napkin and dabbed it on his forehead, making him wince in pain. He grabbed the bottle from the table and took a big sip out of it, in search of a bit of courage to endure the pain as you carefully disinfected each wound on his face.

Then, he began unbuttoning his shirt and you tended to a few more cuts on his chest, shaking your head at the amount of injuries he had came back with.

“I guess I shouldn’t ask you what happened.”

“Better not.” He replied, his hand clenching on the table as you took care of the last wound.

Once you were done, you threw the napkin and his shirt in the corner of the room, as a reminder to wash them and add them to the clothesline. He sighed in relief, glad that you were done, and took one more sip out of the bottle before you put it away in the cabinet.

“You must be starving. I have a few eggs left, I can boil them or fry them…” You suggested, rushing back to the kitchen to get your stove started but he stood up and came to place his arms around you from behind.

You could feel the warmth of his bare chest pressing against your back as you leaned back into him and you both watched the lonely meadow swaying in the wind, through the window.

“I’m hungry for something else.” He whispered in your ear and you felt yourself blushing, his calloused hands travelling up to your chest.

You allowed him to feel your breast, kneading them tenderly before turning in his arms to face him. You stood on your tiptoes to kiss him, desperate to show him just how much you had missed him.

He kissed you back eagerly, hungry for your lips, for your body, for you. He dropped to his knees in front of you and slowly brought your skirt up your legs, one of his hand caressed its way from your ankle to your knee before getting you to place your leg over his shoulder. His head disappeared under the fabric of your skirt, only allowing you to feel him tugging and pulling to move your underwear out of his way. You leaned back against the stove for support, both hands clutching the edge behind you.

You felt the warmth of his tongue slide between your folds and gasped in surprise, not so used to the sensation anymore. He lapped at your core, his tongue dancing around your clit before plunging inside you, repeating the tantalizing movements over and over again until your legs felt weak. Your body contracted and you slightly lost your balance, merely able to catch yourself before collapsing from the intensity building in the pit of your stomach. He showed you no mercy, hungrily tasting you until you loudly moaned with pleasure as it rushed like a tidal wave through your entire body, your arousal coating his tongue.

He kissed the side of your knee that was hooked over his shoulder, bringing his head back to look at you with his pretty blue eyes, satisfaction on his face.

When he stood up, he kissed you once more, allowing you to taste yourself on his lips. Then, he placed his hands on his hips and turned you around, peppering your neck with wet kisses as he once again tugged your skirt up.

Now facing the calm meadow behind the window, you pressed most of your weight on the stove for support, your legs still trembling from your previous orgasm. He didn’t allow you much time to recover, his hard cock slamming inside you as deeply as possible, your soaked core welcoming the intrusion with ease.

You whimpered, your body still so sensitive to each touch, from the way he kept kissing your skin to the way his front hit against your ass, the tip of his erection bumping into a heavenly pleasant spot deep in you.

You started feeling weak again and, this time, he seemed to notice, his arms coming around you to support you as he increased the rythym of his thrusts, barely letting you catch your breath between each loud moan that escaped your lips.

You felt dizzy as again, pleasure exploded inside you, making your whole body go numb and weak as you cried out his name. He groaned against your ear, stopping his frenetic movements to fill you up with his own relief, his cock buried inside you as deeply as you could take it.

You turned your face to kiss him, feeling his hands exploring your body, now tugging on your shirt to take it off. He got you naked in front of him in no time, your thighs glistening with a mix of his cum and your own arousal. His eyes roamed your body, his lips and fingers touching you everywhere in an almost desperate manner.

You traced the wounds on his chest, reddened and inflamed in reaction to the liquor you had applied to his skin as a disinfectant but he was still too blissfully spent to feel any pain this time. He lifted you in his arms, carrying your naked body to the bed where he laid you down. You saw him take his pants completely off before he climbed on top of you, his cock already hard again, pressing against your stomach as he hungrily sucked on your lower lip.

“I don’t think I can take more…” You panted, in reaction to him already positioning your leg over his hip.

“But I’m not done with you yet, sweet girl.” He said, looking at your heaving chest and flushed face. The hunger in his eyes still nowhere near satiated.

Your heart sunk a little in your chest. You knew that when he was this eager to have you, keeping you awake all night long and making sure that you’d barely be able to walk on the next day, it usually meant that he was planning on leaving you again… For a long time. He needed to get his fix of you and you desperately needed yours too, the idea of being without him again, not knowing where he was or what he was doing wasn’t pleasant but it was the life you had chosen, out of love and devotion for him.

You took a deep breath and hooked your other leg over his back, his cock entering you once more and immediately sliding in and out of your already sore pussy at an intensive pace. You focused your attention on his face, his eyes fixed to yours as he rocked his hips on top of you. You gave him a tired smile, already feeling the intensity of another explosive orgasm bubbling inside your core. You closed your eyes, getting ready to embrace the violent climax he was about to provoke yet again, determined to enjoy the warmth of his body in the bed next to yours for as long as it lasted.

(( Masterlist )) - (( Prompts ))

[candiedspit]

Banana Daiquiri

It was summertime; hot tango and swedish malt. 

I was twenty five, a lonely space cadet with no return mission. I floated through the mist of pristine, magic light. I wore a cocktail dress to the corner store because I could. Artificial diamonds shuddered on my wrist while a thousand hot words licked the walls of my mind every single second. I was very alive most days. 

For work, I took care of Gem, a bright seven year old whose favorite color was a carcinogenic green. The kid was mute. And in lieu of a proper schedule–some of the families I’d worked for before treated their children as hostages to time, every hour had a name–I was given the simple task of entertaining Gem until her parents got home from work. 

This meant long walks to the playground, afternoon movies, aquariums, library trips. I liked Gem. Her long sheet of blonde hair which ran down to her stomach and flew in the wind. Her penchant for worms and dirt. I could tell she knew more than I did, picked up on the subtle tones of the universe.

Each morning, I picked her up from her house and we headed out. Out to the avenues. Out to run out fingers along the brisk voltage of morning. Out to the world. It was the third week of June. It had been raining on and off for several days. But at last, the skies were clear and the sun was beautiful, dazzling rays falling to the ground. Gem held my hand. 

Gem, it’s a wondrous morning, I said as we walked. 

I held her backpack on my shoulder. 

It’s the kind of morning you could weep over, I continued. 

The kind you dream about when you’ve been inside for too long, marinating in all of your perceived misery piss. The kind you didn’t think you’d ever see again. But here it is. 

I love the summers most because every horrible thing you did in the winter is gone. Every tantrum. Every snarl. Every shard of glass. Gone, gone, gone.

Eleven blocks. 

We walked until we reached Gem’s favorite park, the one with the long, twisted slide and sprinklers and swings. Gem let go of my hand and ran to the swings. I sat down on a bench and drank from my water bottle. After this, we’d go to get lunch. Strawberry ice cream. Soda, sandwiches sliced down the middle. And then maybe we’d saunter down the boardwalk and play some of the games they have there. 

I’ve always gotten along well with kids. I think I understand them. The bossa nova of the world, each little thrill and dissapointment. How you can feel gladness singe your fingertips. How the sun shines for the first time every time. 

How confusing the grown ups are. 

After work, I usually went to my favorite bar or called the man I’m seeing. Or both at once. It depended on how tired I was, how long the day had been. That evening, I went to the bar. On third street, it was a run-down bar that never had more than twenty occupants. I sat at the bar and ordered my usual; a banana daiquiri. The bartend asked how my day was. I said it was fine and left the conversation at that. I watched the small television above his head. A newscast about the bombings in Turkey and gasoline prices. All things that didn’t touch me. The universe only existed as I could see it. I got one more drink, paid and left. 

On my walk back home, the skies were bloodied and vicious and beautiful. Clouds ate at one another like twins in the womb. I was wearing a long blue dress. I felt like taking off my skin. I wanted the wind. I wanted everyone to love me. The buildings seemed enormous, metallic titans left to rot in the ground after some fantastic war. I was living in the land of zero, the peace spread across the land like a woman on a bed. 

I got home too soon. 

✴

Gem stopped speaking at around three years old. 

It was January and outside, snow filled the gaps of the city like glue. It dawned upon her parents as syrup spreads across the table–the silence. No babbles through the hallways. No requests for sippy cup. No mama. When her mother would urge her to speak, she would look into her face with her insect green eyes, and then look away. Gem’s pediatrician said she would grow back into speech. Had something happened? 

Nothing happened, her mother said. Nothing has happened. 

Gem had always concerned her parents. During holidays–out on the white, dense beach in Spain or with her many spritely cousins at Christmas–Gem preferred to play alone. She could never look at the camera when pictures were taken. And she had this–her parents called it a habit–habit of doing a sort of kangaroo hop when she was excited or nervous or anything at all. Sometimes she wringed her fingers in and out of crooked fists. 

 But the speaking was different. When Gem’s mother told me, she couldn’t stop herself from getting choked up. 

It was like we lost her, she said. Whatever stupid hope I had that she was simply an eccentric kid, that I was the idiot for not understanding the way she saw the world, was killed. And replaced with the fact that we had something on our hands we weren’t prepared for. 

When they finally got the diagnosis, Gem was five. 

Often in these cases, early intervention was key; but also, girls were typically diagnosed later than boys. It wasn’t anyone’s fault. And what mattered was what her parents were going to do next. Therapists moved in and out of the house like business men on a train. Occupational, speech, physical. 

But in the summertime, she didn’t have access to therapists. All she had was me and our little ventures into the world. I hoped I was doing good by Gem. That sunflower kid. That cartoon heart. All I could do was try to guide, be her compass in a dark terrain. 

I liked living two lives. 

One where I filled in the gaps and another where I fell through them. 

✴

Sometimes, I have strange thoughts, I told him. 

I was in the bed of the man I loved. And I was sure he loved me too. At least, at that moment. He was five years older than I was. But he was fun to be with. I liked spilling out in the dark with him. I liked his giant hands over mine. I liked surprising him.  

What kinda thoughts? He asked. 

I know what other people are thinking. I know what everything means. There’s an ultraviolet shimmer to the world and I can see through it, I said. 

It’s hard to explain, I continued. Happy neons. Dark, frustrated movements. An elevator dropping to the basement. How do you explain a yard to a kid kept in the attic? 

You’re a freak, he laughed and kissed my head. 

He didn’t understand. 

✴

I sat out on his balcony–he was one of those people who had balconies but never used them–at the end of a gigantic, African cigar; one of his favorite pastimes besides television. And me. It tasted like midnight, a rough kind of bark. Ash. I liked letting the smoke out so that it floated above the city like a warning of sorts. Beware, there are people who say they love you and don’t. Beware, there are peep holes even in Heaven. I was high on a pill he’d slipped into my mouth, something small and pink. In combination with the tar and the night air and the fact that I was naked, I felt like a kerosene bomb. I felt like a laughing serpent. A dirty thrill. I began to speak out loud, beneath my breath so that nobody could hear me. 

Not anyone besides you. 

There aren’t many people like us, I began. Not everyone can see the mess, the vomit and slashes of graffiti and stray dogs and doom, and smile. Not everyone can see that there are fairgrounds in a warzone. Not everyone can touch the music. Not everyone can hear the light from miles away. But we can, Gem. I think we are gods.

I think we are poets.

[kimbap-r0ll]

Hi! I read your post about Disomnia reacting to MC "dying" and them digging for them but in actuality it was a prank and liked it a lot! So I was wondering if you could write one with Pomefiore? I think it would be awesome! Also Thank you in advance even if you arent interested in writing it!

Hi, thank you for the ask!

Pomefiore reacts to you pretending to unalive

Vil

He's an actor, he's seen acting and he knows immediately that you're acting even if he just sees whatever mound of dirt is said to hold you in it.

"Y/n wouldn't die because they ate the wrong fruit, Rook," Vil glanced at the vice dorm leader who was in the prank with you. Rook just shrugged and said he's only reporting what was told

Vil decides to wait for you in his dorm room as you two agreed to study together for the upcoming test. The hours went by, and soon enough it was around ten o'clock, when Vil would start his beauty sleep. He decided that you were in Ramshackle, but you were actually waiting to scare him in the woods

You eventually had to call him to say that it was a prank, and you needed him to pick you up because you were scared haha. He'll tease you about this for a week, perhaps offer you some better scenario building or acting

Rook

He, at first, is dramatic. When he hears from Epel that you fell off your broom and died, not only that but you were getting buried all of a sudden, he ran so fast Epel had trouble catching up

But halfway across campus, he stopped. Something felt off, it was his hunter's intuition that said otherwise. Thinking deeply to himself, he decided to call you.

You, on the other hand, completely forgot that you were in the middle of a prank and picked up your phone. "Hello?" you answered, wondering if it was another prank caller. "...Ah, I thought so."

Suddenly, you feel a chill go down your spine. The hunter shows up from behind you all of a sudden and wraps his arms around you. "Mon amour you really tricked me at first, but you need to do better," he laughed.

Epel

Probably got fooled, bad. By Vil, out of all people, Vil! He told Epel off-handedly that you fell off your bed and hit your head badly, then you were just, well, going to be buried. Epel, who was gullible in this case, got so shocked that he forgot he was supposed to speak formal

Epel ran to Ramshackle, busting down the doors and looking around for you. He called out for you, but you were nowhere to be found. He looked outside, at the graveyard nearby and he felt his heart pang. No, no way you would just leave.

But then, you were getting hungry and didn't think Epel would be at your house. Abandoning your gardening, you headed back to your dorm. That's when you saw Epel just standing in front of the broken door.

"Y-y/n, you pranked me?!" he shouted, and you quickly shot back that you didn't know what he was talking about. Turns out Vil just wanted to be mean for a day, now he has to watch out for an angry farm boy.

[siriuslysmoking]

No One Was Saved | Chapter 2

(The Year Everything Flipped Upside Down Masterlist)

—Eleanor Rigby Died in the church and was buried along with her name Nobody came Father McKenzie Wiping the dirt from his hands as he walks from the grave No one was saved— -The Beatles

Y/n was sitting in the lunchroom waiting for Chrissy to show up, she had made it known that she needed to tell Y/n something so here she waited, in the lunchroom. But no Chrissy. None of the cheer girls had seen her, so they were no help. Jason was her last resort. She didn’t necessarily like talking to him, but when she had to, she had to. She walked over to Jason’s table, it was all the basketball players.

“Hey! Jason!” she spoke as she got close to their table, he hummed as he looked up. 

“Oh, it’s you.” he looked disappointed.

“What, not the person you wanna see?” Y/n questioned.

“Not particularly.”

“Dido, now, do you happen to know where Chrissy is?” She questioned, crossing her arms across her chest.

“No, why would I know?”

“Because she’s your girlfriend.” she shrugged.

“No, sorry princess, I don’t know.”

Y/n rolled her eyes getting ready to walk away when a voice from across the room called out. “As long as you’re into band or science…” Eddie Munson. “Or parties.” standing on a table, once again making himself known. “Or a game where you toss balls into laundry baskets!”

Y/n’s eyebrows were raised as she watched the 20 year old man -who was still in highschool- with the long curly hair, his black jeans, his leather jacket with a jean vest above it, and of course who could forget his Hellfire t-shirt. Hellfire: a Dungeons and Dragons club, that Eddie was like the leader of, Y/n didn’t know much about the game except that it was a fantasy role-play game. To be honest she was quite intrigued by it, Y/n always thought about learning more about the game that others called a ‘satanic ritual’. That was all bullshit though and she knew it.

“You want something, freak.” Jason stood up, he was so defensive, so willing to stir the pot. Eddie’s response to Jason was to imitate a demon, his pointer fingers pointing up on his head, his tongue stuck out and he made growling demon-like sounds. Eddie smiled as Jason pulled a disgusted face, it wasn’t until Eddie locked eyes with Y/n (who was still standing next to Jason) she noticed the side of her lips were turning up. She immediately forced her face back into a neutral expression, but Eddie had already seen it. 

He turned around on the table, “it’s forced conforming. That’s what’s killing the kids.” he stepped off the table as he shouted, scaring a group of girls that were passing his table. He saw a pair of cheerleaders and motioned for them to walk past him. “That’s the real monster.” this time he spoke much lower.

When Y/n realized she was staring she turned and walked out of the lunch room, frustrated and concerned, where the hell is Chrissy? She continued her search, Y/n had a free period for next class and so did Chrissy so she continued to look for her blonde friend. Not twenty minutes later she walked outside because some people ate outside on the picnic benches, that’s when she saw Chrissy. 

“Hey, Chrissy!” she shouted as she ran over to her friend. “I was looking for you everywhere. I thought we agreed to meet in the lunchroom.”

“Oh-” Chrissy flinched as Y/n rested her hand on her shoulder. “Uh, yeah, I just got distracted.”

“Are you okay?” Y/n asked slowly, removing her hand from the girl's shoulder.

The blonde nodded, “Yeah I just want to talk to you.”

“Yeah, okay.” Y/n nodded as she walked with Chrissy towards the football field. “What’s going on?”

“I- uh-” she trailed off.

“You can tell me anything, you know that right?”

“Yeah, of course.”

“Okay, then what’s going on?”

“I feel like I’m going crazy.” Chrissy rushed out.

“Don’t we all?”

“No like, I’ve been getting nightmares and headaches and bloody noses…” she trailed off. “I’ve been seeing things.”

“What kind of things?”

“You’re going to think I’m going insane.”

“I promise I won’t, to be honest, I’ve been getting headaches and bloody noses. I had a headache today. I could barely see.”

“Okay… today in the bathroom it was my mom, talking about a dress and then her feet, they-they were like I don’t even know how to explain it… not human.” Y/n nodded. “The lights flickered, the voice was so scary.”

“Wait- did you say the lights flickered?” Y/n stopped her.

“Yeah…” Y/n nodded and continued walking.

“So, where are we going?”

“To the woods, I’m meeting with Eddie Munson.”

“Wait- why?”

“To see if he has anything that can help.”

“Are you sure drugs are the answer?”

“I’m willing to do anything that can help.” Y/n nodded at her friend as they made their way across the field and behind the gate. As they were walking through the forest they came upon an old picnic table that was littered with cans and other trash. Y/n climbed onto the bench sitting on the table when she turned she saw Chrissy facing a tree.

“Chrissy?” Y/n questioned, the blonde didn’t turn around, she just started to back up. Y/n stood up stepping towards her friend, until another body crashed into Chrissy making her scream.

“Whoa, hey, hey, hey.” It was Eddie, “sorry.” he chuckled, “didn’t mean to scare you.” Chrissy looked like she had seen a ghost. “You okay?”

Chrissy looked towards the tree again, “Chrissy?” Y/n called, that’s when Eddie noticed her. Y/n stepped forward, calling out once more, before she could reach out to her friend she quickly turned around and put on a false smile. 

Eddie waved his lunch box and walked toward the table, the two girls following, Y/n kept trying to meet Chrissy’s eyes but her head remained low. Once they two were seated Eddie took off his leather jacket and tossed it on the table. He eyed Chrissy who looked pretty shaken, “There’s uh- nothin’ to worry about. Okay? No one comes out here.” he tried to reassure Chrissy. “You’re safe.” 

Once he was seated he flipped open his lunch box, “I promise.” his stupid lunch box that didn’t house food but instead housed drugs. He put his arm on the table resting his chin on his hand. “So, how does this work, exactly?” Chrissy asked.

To be honest Y/n had no idea why she was here, she just kinda sat there awkwardly by Chrissy’s side. “Aw, just like any other old sale, except, cash only, and for obvious reasons, no receipts.” Eddie explained.

“I’ll do you a half ounce for uh, twenty. What do you say? Plenty bang for your buck. Should last you a while.” Eddie held up a plastic baggy, there was a snap of a branch behind the girls and as Chrissy gasped and turned, Y/n raised an eyebrow. Something was going on.

“Hey, uh, we don’t need to do this, just give me the word and I’ll walk away. Okay?”

“It’s not that. I don’t want you to go.” Chrissy stopped the man who started to close up his lunch box. “It’s just- do you ever feel like you're losing your mind?” 

Eddie cocked his head to the side, “Uh, you know, just… on a daily basis.” He smiled at the two girls. “I feel like I’m losing my mind right now doing a drug deal with Chrissy Cunningham and Y/n L/n, the queens of Hawkins high.” 

Y/n noticed that Chrissy was getting more comfortable, no longer so tense. “You know this isn’t the first time we’ve all um… hung out.” Eddie says to the two girls.

“No?” Chrissy asks, Y/n cocks her head in question.

“You don’t remember?” Eddie asks, looking at the two cheerleaders sitting across from him.

“I’m sorry. I-” Chrissy pauses.

“That’s okay.” Eddie shakes his head, and messes with his finger until he makes the executive decision to stab himself in the chest with an invisible knife, falling on his back off the bench and onto the leafy forest floor.

Chrissy gasps and Y/n let a snort leave her lips as she tries to stifle her laughter with her hand. “I wouldn't remember me either. Honestly, do I have stuff in my hair?” he stumbled onto his feet, brushing his hands off and running his hands through his leaf infected hair. The two girls laugh as Eddie finishes fishing all the leaves out of his hair, he turns back to face them.

“You don’t remember me?” he questions the girls, Y/n starts racking her brain but to be honest after these past few years she's been trying to forget about everything from her past.

“I’m sorry.” Chrissy laughs, she turns to her friend and raises an eyebrow in question, Y/n shrugs in thought.

“Middle school, Talent show. You two were doing this cheer thing. You know…” he raised his hands shaking them as if he had cheerleading pom poms. “the thing you do. It’s pretty cool actually. And I was with my band-” the two girls cut him off, saying it in sink.

“Corroded Coffin.” they spoke, Eddie started clapping and did a little turn. Y/n’s brain thought of the much shorter, buzzed hair, little boy who played the electric guitar during a middle school talent show.

“Corro- you do remember!”

“Of course we do! With a name like that, how could we forget!”

“I don’t know, you’re a freak.” Eddie teased.

“No you just…” Chrissy trailed off, “you looked so…

“Different?” Eddie asked. “Yeah. well, my hair was buzzed and I still didn’t have these sweet ol’ tatties yet.” he pulled down the top of his shirt revealing his chest that was littered with tattoos.

“You played guitar, right?”

“Uh-huh, still do.”

“You know.” Chrissy continued, she looked over to Y/n. “Y/n here plays guitar too.”

“Bass, I play bass.” she corrected, Eddie looked at her.

“Never would’ve guessed.” he spoke.

Y/n raised an eyebrow, “what’s that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing, nothing. You just don’t give me the, ‘I play an instrument’ vibe.” he shrugged, “you know, you should come see us play. We play at The Hideout on Tuesdays. It’s pretty cool, we.. we get a crowd actually, of about five drunks.” Chrissy laughed as Y/n smiled at the brunette boy.

“We should.” Y/n agreed.

“It’s not exactly the Garden but you gotta start somewhere, right?” he started playfully punching a tree. Y/n took in his appearance, his dark jeans, his ‘Hellfire’ baseball tee-shirt, his belt chain, different rings, a black bandana hanging out of the back of his pants, and his long curly hair.

“You know, you’re not what I’d thought you’d be like.” the blonde trailed off.

“Mean and scary?” Eddie asked, he grabbed a piece of his hair and covered his mouth with it.

“Yeah.” Chrissy nodded.

“Yeah, well I actually thought you’d be kinda mean in scary, too.” Eddie walked back toward the table and leaned into the two girls.

“Us?” the two girls spoke, looking at each other curiously.

“Terrifying.” He sat down and grabbed his lunch box, setting it back on the table top. “Good news is flattery works with me,  so…twenty-five percent discount count for the half. Fifteen bucks.” he places down a baggy in front of the blonde. “You’re robbing me blind here, you know.”

Chrissy looked down, “do you have anything… maybe.” she stopped, “stronger?”

“Chrissy?” Y/n asked, for all Y/n knew this was her first time doing anything so going stronger would be a push. “Don’t you think you should start off slow? Ease into it?”

She shook her head, “no… I’m sure.”

“I… uh- don’t have anything on me but I can meet you tonight with it.” Chrissy nodded.

“After the game, we can meet at my trailer.” Eddie spoke.

“Yeah, that works.” Chrissy agreed.

“I won’t be able to come.” Y/n spoke to Chrissy, “I have to drop Dustin back at his house after his thingy.” Y/n remembered the promise she made to Mrs. Henderson didn't want her son to bike home in the dark so she asked Y/n to do it. Of course she said yes, after school she'd go back home then take her car back for the game.

“That’s fine. I can go alone.” Chrissy spoke to Y/n, Y/n nodded hesitantly, looking back to Eddie who was putting his jacket back on.

“Okay.” She looked over to Eddie’s hand and said the time. “We have to go to class.” she said standing up and swinging her bag over her shoulder.

“Alright.” Chrissy turned to the boy. “See you after the match in the parking lot?” Eddie nodded and Chrissy turned following Y/n out of the forest and back onto the football field.

--

--

I hope you enjoyed the 2nd chapter! Reposts, comment, like so others can enjoy this story as well! it's super appreciated! Updates every sunday!

Comment if you wanna be added to the tag list!

[uraniumwriting]

The Handmaiden's Grave

A short piece for the @flashfictionfridayofficial prompt "An Empty Grave"

Not about anything in particular, just trying to get into the writing groove again :D

~~~~

The last time the grave was opened, the world went to hell.

At least, that’s what my father told me.

For generations, my family guarded the Handmaiden’s Grave. Her name was lost to time a long, long time ago, but we continued to take our place at the front of her tomb every hour of every day. At birth, the children were deemed to be either Day- or Night-Watchers, a designation which stuck with us to our retirement or our last breath, whichever came first.

I was lucky enough to be designated a Day-Watcher. The Night-Watchers were more common, but retirement for them was rare.

When the sun rose, I was already up and dressed, the light blue ceremonial robes flowing around me. I silently ate my breakfast in the empty, one room cottage I shared with my brother, a Night-Watcher, and made sure to put a pot of water on the stove for him. After all, he would be cranky at his next shift if he didn’t get his tea.

As I stepped outside, the world slowly woke up. A thick layer of light gray clouds hung over the sprawling hills of my home and signaled an end to a particularly nasty dry spell for the local farmers. A flock of birds flew overhead, with their dark wings contrasting against the lighter clouds above. Walking down the path to the Handmaiden’s grave, I saw a few rabbits scatter at my approach.

I held tightly onto the staff made for me at birth (that I always believed to be slightly too large and unwieldly for me, but my family claimed there were never mistakes with the weapon made for each child), and hastened my pace to the grave.

The last thing I needed was for my brother to snark at me for being late.

Remember the Handmaiden’s last wish, I reminded myself of my mother’s teachings. Remember her desire to burn down the world and take any and all power for herself.

It was said that the Handmaiden tried to sabotage the princess she had sworn her oath to in a desperate grab for power. Power that was not, and would never be, rightfully hers. The Handmaiden had mastered the most powerful magics and curses, to the point where even death was a temporary state.

The kingdom had found a way to control her, but only if her grave remained sealed.

That was why my family stood guard at the Handmaiden’s Grave.

“Kil,” on approach to the grave, I called out for my brother. “I hope I didn’t keep you waiting.”

There was no answer.

“Kil?” I rushed around the final bend and froze.

There, sprawled on the ground and covered in loose dirt and blood, was someone I could only assume was my brother.

The body had been nearly torn in half, with parts of the ribcage scattered around the grave. The ceremonial robes, originally the same color as mine, had been stained to almost a pinkish color from the blood. Worst of all, the head was gone.

Well, not quite the worst, I quickly realized. As I walked over the Handmaiden’s Grave, I noticed the hole which went deeper than I would’ve liked. Stone and dirt crumbled into the hole and piled around it, and a simple, obsidian box with runes carved into it was exposed. The Handmaiden’s coffin, I presumed, though I hadn’t seen it before.

The coffin was open.

I opened my mouth to scream, to warn the world of what had occurred, but my voice caught in my throat. My staff slipped from my trembling hands, but my focus remained on the open coffin in front of me.

A chill ran down my back like a gentle caress, and I knew someone was behind me.

“Who?” I choked out, afraid to turn around.

A sickly soft, feminine voice responded.

“Princess?”

[theveryconfusedartistsart-blog]

So, that new girl I keep talking about?

She really, really, REALLY hates Kris.

And you know what's weird? Literally ONLY Kris seems oblivious to this. Or, no. Are they oblivious? They're literally getting bullied! Do they just... not care? Then again, who knows what Kris is thinking. I just don't get why they don't tell their mom.

OR, BETTER, switch seats with me, like I keep saying lol. I guess they just don't want to be at the front of the class? But... She doesn't EVER bully me, EVEN when there'd be a HUGE opportunity to, so... Come on, switch seats, everyone would be safer that way X)

Like, you're not going to believe what happened today. lol

After the bell rang, as usual, everyone rushed to see who could get out of class first. I stayed behind a bit to help Alphys put away some books (and look for some mysteriously missing supplies X) ). Meanwhile, Kris was still asleep, face-down on a totally blank notebook page, and for some reason, Susie... hadn't left either. She was just sitting there... staring at Kris's head. Sniffing it...??? (Wonder if she'd like scented candles? X) )

Eventually I started to leave too (I even almost said bye this time), but I was a bit worried about Kris, so I stayed outside the classroom to... umm, watch? X) I had to stay totally out of sight, Holiday family ninja style, since Susie didn't seem like she was going to do anything until she made sure I was gone.

After a while, Susie got up, knocking her chair over. She jumped into Ms. Alphys's seat and put her shoes up on the desk, getting dirt everywhere. (I just know I'm going to have to clean that. X) )

She grabbed the apple Berdly had given Alphys a few days ago (you know, one of the ones she has literally never eaten X) ), held it up, and started talking.

"Hey, idiot."

Kris didn't look up.

"HEY IDIOT!"

Kris still didn't look up!

"KRIS!"

Kris looked up. Susie rolled her eyes and showed all of her horrible and very cool teeth.

"Nice shampoo. Apple flavor, right? Better be careful about wearing that around me."

Then she BIT THE WHOLE APPLE IN HALF! Including the core. She even ate the seeds, which, um, contain arsenic if you didn't know. X) Don't eat those Susie... anyway, Kris didn't react, so she continued.

"Keep smelling like apples... you might end up like this."

Kris didn't react.

"Bitten..." she pointed to the apple. "In HALF."

There was like, the MOST awkward silence... and then...

Snickering.

But it wasn't Susie...

No, it was Kris, just barely stifling some laugh.

Did they think that was some kind of weird joke...? X)

WHATEVER it was, Susie must have thought she was getting made fun of, because she immediately just LAUNCHED the apple right at kris.

But, Kris, with their gamer reaction speed X) Held up their notebook like a shield and blocked it diagonally, bouncing it into the air...

And actually CAUGHT the apple.

...

Then took a bite out of it.

Gosh, though, did that make Susie mad.

"You little..."

She ran over and grabbed Kris by the hair, staring into their face. REALLY close. I froze. I knew that if I didn't do anything, Kris would get hurt, or worse, but something inside me just... froze! I just stood there, holding my breath. And Susie kept talking.

"One day, your mom's gonna get sick of you, you little freak. And as soon as that happens..."

Susie laughed. I felt genuinely sick.

"Someone might make you disappear. And she'll finally realize how happy she was without you."

But after all that,

Kris didn't say anything at all.

Susie EXPLODED.

"SAY SOMETHING, YOU IDIOT!!!"

It felt like her voice echoed around the room forever.

Then, when it finally went quiet,

Kris's mouth looked like it moved.

To be honest, moved so slightly, I couldn't even tell if they said something, or what, but whatever it was, Susie's attitude... suddenly completely changed.

She let go of Kris, backing off quickly, then left the room in such a hurry, she easily would have won today's "leaving first" race.

I REALLY wish I could have seen her reaction, but I was so scared she would see me that I literally just jumped into my locker X)

In the end all I could see through the little slats was her shape from behind, going towards the entrance of the school with her head held low.

Finally, I heard the entrance door close.

I sighed, and suddenly all that frozen feeling that had built up in my chest flew out of my body all at once. "Holy cheese and crackers!" I said to myself. I almost started laughing from relief.

Then suddenly, my locker's door flung open.

Kris was standing there.

I started to stutter hello, and they just slowly, slowly shut the door on me and left.

WELL...

THAT JUST HAPPENED. LOL X)

I ordered apple shampoo, maybe if I wear it too she won't bother Kris as much X))))))))))

(This is from Noelle's blog from the spamton sweepstakes event)

I really love how protective but scared Noelle is.

[leighsartworks216]

The Viper: Rewritten

Chapter One

Ch 2 - Ch 3 - Ch 4 - Ch 5 - Ch 6 - Ch 7

Jaskier x gn!Witcher!Reader

AO3 - I recommend reading it there bc it's kinda long lol

Warnings: swearing, brief mention of blood

Word Count: 3753

Masterlist

Tag List Form

You pushed yourself onto your tip-toes. The wood beneath your feet was warmed by the fire in the nearby hearth, and worn down with time. Your eyes barely reached over the tabletop. What miniscule strength you had in your arms aided in the effort, pulling you upward to peer even an inch more over the top.

Your mother chuckled at your efforts. From across the table, she had watched as you wandered from your bedroom, bright-eyed and eager for breakfast. With a smile on her face, she went back to ladling porridge into three bowls. Nimble fingers carefully laid down slices of wild strawberries, adjusting them all until it was perfect. Your stomach grumbled with hunger.

Mother wiped her fingers on a cloth at her waist. Mirthful eyes landed back on you. Finally, she pushed a bowl over to your chair. You wasted no time crawling into the seat and digging into the meal. She chided you softly on your manners, reminding you to use a spoon to eat rather than your hands.

She disappeared through the doorway to give Father his bowl. You almost finished eating by the time she came back inside, face creased with worry. She continued to smile, however, hiding whatever was troubling her.

After breakfast, you got dressed and ran outside into the mid-morning sun to help in the garden. Cold dirt pressed into your knees as you helped your father pull weeds. Sometimes, you wouldn’t be strong enough to rip the unwanted growths from the earth. Wordlessly, as if he always somehow knew, Father swooped in and plucked them out easily.

After weeding, you and Father would go to the well in the center of town. He carried both empty buckets there, but you always carried one sloshing bucket full of water back. Even if you did have to carry it with both hands, and even if water spilled over the sides onto the street.

Neighbors made way as you passed, giving you words of encouragement all the while. Sometimes they would stop Father for a minute to chat. You never really understood what it was they spoke about. Sometimes they would talk about an emperor, or pests that ate their crops. More frequently, they began talking about snakes. You’d never seen a snake before. You hoped you could see one, one day.

With a scoop, you and Father watered the fruits, herbs, and vegetables. You poured water over the base of the plants and watched the dirt soak it up. With wide eyes and a racing heart, you stared in awe as the dirt began shifting. You called your father over, but he just watched in amusement as a frog popped out from under the wet dirt.

As you busied yourself trying to catch the slippery creature, he tended to the farm horse. It was a big horse - much bigger than you - with huge feet and long hair around her ankles. According to your mother, you’d been really scared of it when they first got her. You cried and hid behind their legs, watching the behemoth to see if it would attack you. Now you weren’t as afraid. Sometimes, if you had extra, Father would let you feed her carrots, and she would nudge you with her big snout.

When you caught the frog, Father would tell you to head inside for lunch. Mother didn’t like frogs. You had to let it go.

Mother would already have food prepared. Warm bread that she made herself, sliced and with cheese from the market to go with it. Sometimes there would be fruit with it, or even a bit of fish. She would make sure you washed your hands before you could eat, though, especially if you caught a frog beforehand. She told you once that her cousin would play with frogs and then eat, and she got poisoned and died. It wasn’t enough to scare you from playing with the things, but you didn’t argue as much about washing your hands.

You’d look out the window as you ate. Or, sometimes the door would be propped open and you could look out into the street. Neighbors bustled about in the midday sun. Women washed and hung up laundry. Some worked with looms or spun their own yarn. Men tended to fields, built weapons and tools, or crafted tanned hides into gloves and aprons. They all passed through the village with grins, greetings, and pride in their work.

The village didn’t have much flora aside from the crops people grew. The grounds were formed with uneven dirt or slimy mud, with boots, horse prints, and cart wheels all leaving their marks in the roads. A little patch of grass sprouted in here and there, but it was trampled out within a week.

There was, however, one tree. It wasn’t actually within the borders of the town at all. No, if it had been, it would have been killed off. Rather, it stood up on a hill, visible from the kitchen window. There was forest spread out behind it. Dead or dying grasses and weeds flooded the field before it, in between your house and the oak. But the brown grass never touched that hill. As soon as the earth began sloping upward, the grass was lush and green. You vowed to one day leave the walls of the village, climb that hill, and see that tree up close.

One day.

You finished eating and climbed down from your chair. Mother put a plate in your hand, full of the same thing you’d just eaten, and told you to bring it out to your father. Father took it, ruffled your hair, and sat in a chair propped up against the house while he ate. He never said what he looked at. Your best guess was that he people watched just like you. Or maybe he, too, thought about seeing that great big oak tree up close.

You sat by the fire with your mother. Usually you would unravel and re-roll her balls of yarn back together. More recently, she helped you learn how to sew. She would pass you a shirt or pair of pants with a hole in them and show you how to thread a needle. She’d show you how to stitch up the hole so the thread was barely noticeable. When you inevitably poked your fingers with the sharp needle, she would kiss the boo-boo with a gentle chide to be more careful.

To pass the time, she would ask you about your morning. You would ramble on and on about the weeds and plants, how you carried a full bucket all by yourself, and the little critters you saw. If you didn’t know what they were called, she was always patient as you explained what they looked like so she could provide the name for you. Today you saw a ladybug, a cricket, and a spider. She already knew about the frog.

As the sun went down, Father stopped tending to the garden and animals. He would come inside, grab a bow and a quiver of arrows, and go off hunting in the woods. You asked once if he went by the hill. He just shook his head and said there were too many monsters over that way.

He would come back with fresh-caught game, if he was lucky. This time he carried a large doe across his shoulders. If the weight ached his back and creaked his bones, he didn’t complain.

Your parents worked together to prepare the meat from the catch. Father would skin it and carve out the meat. Mother would make a stew and show him where to hang up the pelt. You weren’t old enough to help out. Mother said she didn’t want you watching, either. Instead, while they cooked, you would go to your room and finish up fixing the clothes.

You’d all eat together once it was ready. Your tiny legs never reached the floor; they kicked freely under the table, almost but not quite scraping the wooden boards. Mother and Father spoke of the world. You didn’t understand. The conversation would slowly make its way to the neighbors and their lives. You understood some things, but other things went right over your head.

You finished your stew before they did. Your eyes drooped with exhaustion as your belly was filled. They would pause in their meals to carry you to your room. Father laid you down, but Mother tucked you in. They both kissed your forehead and blew out the candles around your room. The door creaked when it closed behind them.

You’d wake up tomorrow and begin the cycle all over again. It was perfect. The world was bright, new, and beautiful. Your hands had yet to form calluses. Your eyes were yet to dim with the harsh realities of the world.

That was all behind you now.

-

Cold nipped at your fingers and nose, intensifying as a breeze brushed past. You did not let it distract you.

The pendulums before you danced in a methodical tango. The spikes protruding from the wood were dulled with blood, and no longer glinted in the midday sun. Your piercing yellow eyes followed their movements, searching for an opening, timing exactly when they reached their zeniths.

“C’mon, Rat, we don’t have all day!” You cursed your brother. Your heart jumped with anxiety.

You would not allow yourself to fall again.

As the first pendulum reached its highest point to your left, you jumped through the gap. You felt the woosh of the second one as it passed mere inches from your face. You did not allow your feet to become unsteady on the unbalanced wooden beam beneath you.

The second and third reached their peaks. You seized the opportunity and leapt past both onto the next platform. In your eagerness, you almost got scratched in the face by the rotating wooden spikes before you.

You ducked down and passed through the gaps in between the layers. Easy. You let out a shaky breath as you turned to the pegs in the wall. The wood was worn down over excessive use, almost smooth now. You could slip and fall several feet into the hard concrete below- No. Focus.

With a deep breath in, you sprinted across the pegs. You nearly lost your balance on one, but pushed through to the next platform, where you almost skidded off the edge from your momentum.

“You’re almost there!” your brother called out again. You risked a glance down at him. Your other siblings had also gathered around, ready to watch you finally pass this training exercise, or fall flat once again. “Just don’t fall on your arse!”

Oh, you were so strangling him when you got down from here.

You jumped onto the swinging platform and stood at the front edge. You kept your knees loose, staying level with the motion of the swing.

Almost there.

Almost there.

The swing reached its peak, and you leapt for the ropes. Cold metal brushed your fingertips as gravity took hold. With barely a second to react, you curled into yourself, and landed on the hard concrete.

Disappointed sighs filled the courtyard as people left, until the only people left were you and your closest sibling.

Stuldweck leaned over your body, spread out on the ground. You looked past him to the sky, repetitively revealed and hidden as the swing shifted. He raised an eyebrow.

“Gonna get off the ground anytime soon, Rat?”

“No,” you sighed. “I’m just going to decompose, right here. Take care of Oalvir in my absence.”

He chuckled low and warm. “He’d be kicked out within a day.”

A slight grin found your lips. “Probably.”

Stuldweck held out a hand. You took it without further delay. With strength twice as great as your own, he lifted you back to your feet and slapped your back. “You gave it your best shot, Rat. Nothing else for it.”

“I was so close, Stul. So close! I touched the rings this time! I was right there!” You walked side by side with your brother as he guided you out of the courtyard and through the walls of Gorthur Gvaed - the Viper School. You grumbled, “And I fucked it up. Again.”

“You’ll get it soon!”

Stuldweck was your beacon of light in this shitty castle. Ever since you were little kids, he looked after you. You were the weakest of the bunch. The mages were surprised when you woke from the Trial of Grasses at all, and yet you still had to help dispose of the bodies of the dozens others who did not make it. Stul, arguably the strongest of the Adepts, kept you sane.

“How many tries did it take me?” he asked rhetorically. “Thirty-eight! You’re only at - What? - 19? And you’re faster than anybody else!”

“Because I’m a rat,” you teased. The nickname was given to you affectionately when you were younger. Because you were small and weak, your brothers would all say you could be eaten by a snake in one bite, like a sickly little rat. As you grew, however, it morphed into being more agile and sneaky than the rest.

He slung his arm around your neck, pulling you into a playful hug. “Exactly!” You shoved him off, laughing, as you both stumbled through the Keep. “And when you graduate, you'll be the best Viper around!”

A swell of emotion welled in your chest. It was warm and airy. Your smile became more muted as you looked at him. “You really think so?”

He smiled, genuinely. It was not a crooked smirk with teeth. His eyes were not playful or withholding truths in their depths. His dark skin crinkled around his mouth, and softened around his eyes. “Of course I do.”

Like a gas lighting aflame, the emotion in your chest burst into relief and joy. Before the soft moment between siblings could linger, he ruffled your hair and shoved your face away. “C’mon, Rat, you’re on kitchen duty.”

You chuckled and shoved him back. “Arsehole!”

-

“You’ve been creeping around all morning,” you pointed out. Stuldweck paused in the middle of dunking his bread in some warm broth, like a child caught breaking something. “Care to tell me why?”

He grinned knowingly. “You’ll see.”

You glanced to another table at the front of the banquet hall, filled from end to end with the mentors of the school. The Grandmaster, Ivar Evil-Eye, was engrossed in an ancient scroll, oblivious to the goings on before him. He was always like that. The mentors were truly the ones doing the heavy lifting, training students and doling out harsh punishments.

Lingering on the mentors a moment longer, searching for any hint they could be listening, you learned over the table and spoke in a hushed voice. “Is it another prank? Oalvir told me he had something in the works - is it that?”

Stul chuckled as he shook his head.  You sat back on the bench with a huff.

“What is it then?” you demanded.

“If you get through the obstacle course - unharmed - I’ll show you. Until then,” he made a motion of zipping his lips together, “not a word about it.”

Two sets of yellow eyes stared into each other. You squinted, studying his face for any microexpressions. Though, of course, you’d been trained well not to give anything away under pressure. It was not training one so lightly forgot.

Admitting defeat, you heaved a sigh. “Fine. Let’s go then!”

Startled, he dropped his chunk of bread into his broth. “Now? You haven’t even finished eating!”

“I’ve had enough; I need to know what you’re hiding! So, c’mon, let’s go.”

You were already standing, pushing your bowl and plate away as all eyes became fixed on the sudden movement. Stuldweck stuttered, gesturing at his own food. “Take it with you! And try not to choke when I land on that final platform.”

-

Cold air brushed your cheeks once again as you stood at the starting line. Unsurprisingly, the whole school decided lunch was not as interesting as watching you fall on your arse would be. Even the Grandmaster set his scroll down in favor of joining the crowd.

Everyone could hear the way your heart stuttered under the scrutinizing gazes of your siblings. It filled your ears. Your hands became clammy.

No. Don’t panic. Stay focused. You trained for this - you can do it.

Your eyes shifted from the swinging pendulums before you to the crowd. Up front, arms crossed and brow furrowed, stood Stuldweck. He nodded assuringly to you. Almost as quiet as a mouse, his voice found your ears.

“You’ve got this, Rat.”

It was all you needed to hear.

You looked ahead once more. The cold air of the mountain valley dried the back of your throat. The pendulums taunted you with their repetitive dance. Through them, you saw the rusted rings. You weren’t going to let them slip through your fingers again. Not this time.

With a speed never before seen within these damned walls, you weaved through the pendulums and spinning wooden spikes. You hardly paused at all before sprinting up the pegs on the wall and turning sharply onto the swinging platform.

And now, the rings. You remembered last time, when your fingers brushed the cool metal as you fell to the hard stone floor below. Not this time.

Time seemed to slow as the swing neared your target. The nervous, short breaths of your siblings, the subtle scuff of boots against the stone as Ivar and Stuldweck stepped forward, the vultures and hawks screeching in the distance - it all fell on deaf ears. You braced yourself.

And then you jumped.

Only this time, you caught the rings and held on with a death grip. Your arms pulled on your sockets as your body weight listened to gravity’s beckoning call. You would not fall into her siren’s trap this time. You swung your legs back and followed through with the momentum as you were propelled forward, letting go of the rings at the forward peak of your swing. With a hard thud, you landed on the final platform.

Silence. Then, the cheers of your brothers was all you could hear.

Your heart raced with adrenaline as you climbed down the ladder, only to be swarmed with arms slung over your shoulders and pats on the back and knuckles digging into the crown of your head. Congratulations were thrown around like rice at a wedding. All you could do was smile and breathlessly chuckle like a madman.

As the commotion settled and your siblings departed to return to their now-cold meals, you turned to Stul, who embraced you with powerful arms. “Do I get to see what you’ve been up to now?” you asked.

He laughed next to your ear before he roughly pulled away to drag you back into the Keep and through the halls. To your surprise, he did not drag you to his quarters or even back to the banquet hall. Instead, he pulled you through to the front of the School, and through the grand front doors to the courtyard. He stopped you in the center of the barren yard, but moved toward the empty stables.

“I wanted to do something special for your eventual success,” he began. You couldn’t stop looking at the hand he had resting on a stall door. “So, I pulled a couple of strings and…” He took a breath. Was he nervous? He smiled. “Well, here you go!”

In one fluid motion, he pushed the sliding door out of the way. Standing in the strewn hay upon wobbly legs, was a foal. The small horse snorted and backed away from the door. He was… You had no words to describe the feeling within you. Adoration? Awe? Elation?

The colt watched cautiously as you slowly stepped forward. His coat was light and well-groomed, with grey mottling all down his body, and dark flowing hair. You knelt at the doorway. After a moment, the horse neared.

“You…” You swallowed, still in disbelief. “You got me a horse?”

“Well, a foal, yeah.” You could hear the wide grin in his voice. “What’re you gonna name him?”

The colt stepped forward until it was almost face-to-face with you. He watched and waited to see if you would do anything. You made sure he saw your hand as you slowly raised it up. When he did not react or jump away, you pet the soft coat along his neck. He snorted at the gentle contact.

“Bayard,” you decided. “I’ll call him Bayard.”

Stul snorted at the name. “Are you sure? You don’t want to call him Ard Feainn or something?”

You scoffed, leveling him with an annoyed stare. “I didn’t think you were so big on religion,” you teased.

“It’s a more powerful name than Bayard,” he mocked, albeit playfully. He held his arms upward in dramatic fashion. “The Great Sun! As mighty a steed as the Continent has ever witnessed!”

You hit his leg, causing him to laugh and drop his arms. The youngling horse became startled at the sudden movement and scampered back into the stall.

“Alright! Alright! Bayard it is then.” Stul crossed his arms and leaned against the door. He sighed pensively. “Just one more trial and we’re out of here.”

Oh the thought of being free from these hallowed halls - it caused your heart to flutter and yearn for the outside world. It was so rarely that any Adept could leave the school, even to hunt for game. The only times you set foot on real dirt ground was for monster training. And even then, you were not allowed to stray far.

One final test to deem you worthy, and you would be set loose on the world. You could accept real contracts, interact with real people, fight real monsters! Your head spun just imagining it.

“Does anybody know what the final trial is?” you frowned, looking up at your brother for answers.

He thought for a moment, a frown tugging his features down, before shaking his head. “No idea. I’ll try asking Oalvir - that nitwit can figure anything out.” He noticed the frown taking over your previously joyous expression. “Hey,” he propped a hand on your shoulder, “don’t worry about it. You’ll do great no matter what it is.”

You managed a weak smile. “You will, too, Stul. We’ll make it out of here together - or not at all.”

---

Tag List:

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@writeawaythepain

@sleepyqueerenergy

@lex-caspartine

@lastwandastan

@adozenforks

@plaguedoctorsnake

@solomonssimp

[autisticlancemcclain]

please do tell about these childhood shenanigans /nf

why yes of course. for reference i am the oldest (20) then giosi (18) then hannah (16) then maria (12) then tony (10). most of these are about me and giosi and hannah tho lol bc we were all kids at the same time.

1. when me and giosi and hannah were all very young, our aunt went to disney world. she sent us back postcards. my postcard has princess aurora on it, who was giosi’s favourite, and when i did not give her MY postcard that was addressed to ME when she demanded, she grabbed one of my pigtails and yanked so hard i smacked my head on the floor. i still bring this up and she is still unapologetic (how dare i steal her fave princess)

2. my nonno and nonna were both seamstresses. they had a sewing room in their basement so they could work. we were forbidden to go in alone but as children we would frequently sneak and and play a game called needles, wherein we would see who could slide the most amount of needles through the first layer of skin on our fingers until someone fucked up and made themselves bleed. then we would chase another relative (usually younger) around the house and convince them that we were magnetic aliens who would come for them next

3. all of us were obsessed with making potions. this would frequently be done either outside with leaves and dirt and worms and shit or inside with slime materials. often we would dare each other to taste the potions.

4. hannah used to eat paper as a toddler. none of us know why. she would literally like devour any paper in her vicinity so she couldn’t be left alone with craft supplies. once she ate like nineteen napkins when my mom looked away (giosi and i counted)

5. follow up on the paper thing. this last easter maria very carefully made paper name tags for everyone at the dinner table and arranged them so she wouldn’t have to sit near giosi’s boyfriend (whom she despises), and hannah decided to eat them just to make maria go ballistic. it worked. maria made more name tags in a rage. hannah waited until she turned away to eat them again. hannah’s boyfriend watched this whole thing and is still in love with her somehow. she was sixteen at the time

6. maria and i used to share a room. we had this weird bunk bed that my dad made where my bed was vertical and hers was horizontal. maria used to wake me up by jumping from her bunk onto my poor unsuspecting body. we don’t share a room anymore but occasionally she ventures into my room in the early hours of the morning just to do this

7. when my sisters discovered i was being teased and name-called at school they decided that they would help me by calling me worse names so the names at school hurt my feelings less. they called me jack-e-coli for years. this worked

8. hannah was once angry with me so she stole and hid my favourite book at the time (the hunger games). she denied it when i threw a fit about it. i could never prove it so i gave up. one year later i was messing around in her room and i found my boom THAT SHE FORGOT ABOUT. she laughed herself to tears and i was so mad that i threw her pillow out the window

9. when i was in grade seven and maria was in kindergarten, there was this asshole in my class and on our bus who loved to terrorize us. i beat him up a couple times but it didn’t do much to stop him. once, he got out of class before me, and ran to the kindergarten cage to get to maria before i could. he stole her backpack and taunted her with it. maria, five years old and like three feet tall, simply glared at him, reared back as hard as she could and kicked him in the shins. he collapsed immediately. she yanked her backpack out of his hands and spat on him before running over to me lmfao

10. at our nonno’s funeral me and all four of my siblings gathered away from everyone else (bored) and played poker incorrectly. if you lost you had to take a shot of black coffee or toss back a packet of salt. it was disgusting. it was also funny and to this day i know my nonno would have laughed

11. giosi and hannah used to have this giant chain of elastic bands that they called their ‘bungee chord’. sometimes they would tie their monster high dolls to it and have them bungee jump over the railing. other times they would hang the dolls by execution

12. once they beheaded a doll and decided to hang that doll from my ceiling fan like the little freaks they were and are

13. bonus weirdo story involving my mom. for maria’s sixth birthday she had a dora piñata. i was the last to get a turn wackiness it because i’m a) significantly stronger than anyone else bar my father and b) hugely uncoordinated. the piñata was stubborn as hell and was not bursting open so my mom finally gave me the broomstick and put on my blindfold. i swim full force and felt my stick hit something and felt that something give, but no one made any noise, so i took off my blindfold to see that i had cleanly beheaded poor dora in front of a group of horrified six year olds. my mom laughed herself hoarse and told them to get the candy already. in the middle of the night she snuck into my room and hung the dora head on my closet, which scared the shit out of me when i woke up, but i since i’m autistic i deadass developed an attachment to the head and it stayed on my closet for two years

14. once at a hotel, me and hannah and giosi were awake playing cards while the youngest two were asleep, and then out of nowhere maria shoots straight up out of bed, completely dead asleep, faced us, sighed, and then said “hannah hannah hannah hannah.” then she giggled (STILL DEAD ASLEEP) and then fell back asleep. this was a couple months after the incident at home where she sat straight up in bed, pointed to the dark corner of our room and sighed “nice man over there.” i left her there and slept in the bathtub

15. i only had friends over like one time in grade ten to make gingerbread. halfway through my friends all looked at each other and went upstairs as i was taking stuff out of the oven, u followed them only to see them all losing their entire shit laughing because my seven year old brother was in his room, on his mini drum set, banging the hell out of them with zero rhythm and screaming at the top of his lungs

[zaceouiswriting]

A welcome stranger P.1

Character: Theo Raeken x male readerr

Universe: Teen Wolf

Warnings: None

When you woke up that morning, everything was perfect; the sun was shining, birds were singing their morning carols, and one of your excited dogs was staring at you while also lying on top of you. It was no wonder that you no longer felt the husky. After all, he does it every morning.

After a round of cuddling and tummy rubs, you pulled him into your arms and carried him downstairs, where your other two house dogs were patiently waiting for their food.

With a satisfied smile, you scratched their heads and then filled their bowls.

Whistling to yourself, you looked out again and decided to run for a wide lap before going about your daily chores. While the dogs happily ate, you went upstairs to put on some running clothes. As soon as you went downstairs, Ricko, your husky, saw you and immediately ran to the back door. Shaking your head still with the same gentle smile gracing your lips. You carefully opened the door, but your best friend had other plans, so he checked the door and ran out. The door handle flew out of your hand.

"Ricko! Come back!" you screamed loudly. But the stubborn dog wasn't even listening. Fearing for his safety, they ran after him but slammed the door first. Although you knew you didn't have to worry so much. After all, your home was surrounded by miles of your own property: all your land is surrounded by a heavy stone wall. Only at the end of the wooded area was a metal fence that some teenagers occasionally climbed over to reach his property.

Because you had no idea what they were doing or when they were coming to your land, you feared more for them or what they might do to your beloved dog.

But oddly enough, even after a few hundred yards, your dog didn't slow down. Something was wrong, and you knew it. You ran faster and faster, trying to catch up with him. Once even almost tripped over my own feet.

Almost two miles later, as you reached the wooded portion of your property, you saw something strange. Just off the rugged path - your private way to get in and out without getting noticed, which you mostly use to drive off with your truck - you saw something standing. 

You slowed down as your dog ran toward the thing in the woods. As you slowly approached, you saw that it was just a truck. At first, you thought someone put it there and wandered through your forest. But that would be a first because usually, the teenager will drive off as soon as they see you.

Finally, when you reached it, you could see how dirty this poor pickup truck was. You touched it anxiously, feeling pain as your finger touched the already-hardened dirt. You couldn't believe that a pickup truck lover would take such bad care of their baby! When you finally got your dog's collar between your fingers - as you got your composure back after this massive shock - you glanced inside. Several items were strewn in the back seats, ranging from clothing to toiletries.

You looked around, a bit confused. Out of nowhere, your dog began to bark loudly but not aggressively, causing you to jump and scold him. Afterward, as you looked up again: a pair of warm hazel eyes looked at you sleepily. It took him a moment, but when he realized someone was standing outside his truck, his eyes snapped open in panic.

You were still confused but showed him with your hand to roll down the window. He nodded his head obediently and did as he asked. "You do realize you're on private property, right?" you asked him, raising an eyebrow.

Shocked, almost shitting his pants, he turned his head. "N-No, sorry, I didn't see any sign." He stuttered out his words.

Sighing heavily and even wiping your face, all you could do was shake your head. "God, these kids are taking me to an early grave," you murmured as you walked around the pickup truck to the trail. Even from a distance, you could see the destroyed gate, almost as if something had driven through it.

Although the pickup truck in front of you was dirty, it had no other damages. Walking back to the let-down window, the young man was waking himself up and was about to drive off. "Are you living in your truck?" The question forced the young man to stop moving for a second.

But as soon as it happened, he turned to you with a big smile. "Oh no," he said to you. "I'm driving to the East Coast."

"We both know that's bullshit." The anger in your voice surprised the young man. “If you really wanted to go to the East Coast, you took many wrong paths. From here, you can only go further south.” You hold his stare sternly. "One last chance to tell me the truth before I pull you out of the car and call the sheriff."

Intimidated by your boldness and biceps visible as you crossed your arms in front of you, he broke apart. Tears suddenly flowed from his eyes, and sobs escaped his dry lips. His sparkling eyes from before looked empty and tired. It broke your heart, but now wasn't the time to give in to someone sleeping on your private property.

You've been patiently waiting for him to regain his composure. It took much longer than you expected. But when he finally did, his eyes were downcast. He couldn't meet your eyes anymore. "How about you follow me home? Get you some good food and a nice shower?”

He didn't seem very happy and obviously questioned your intentions. "Come on, Ricko! It doesn't seem like he wants our help." The dog whimpered softly, oddly saddened by this, but you didn't give him much heat. Instead, you put your hands under his stomach and lifted him into your arms because he didn't want to move.

Luckily, it only took a few meters before the truck's engine started roaring, and you could feel it closing in on you. Apparently, some real food and a warm shower were enough to get him to follow you. Which doesn't show much intelligence, or he's just too trustworthy.

Anyway, you were happy to help him. It reminded you of a friend you had in college. Henry had no place to go after his family disowned him. He didn't do anything! He only hit his younger brother after he fucked his girlfriend and got her pregnant. For months they tried to pass it off as Henry's house. Until he caught them in the act. Henry used to tell everyone he lived with his aunt, but by sheer coincidence, you found him sleeping in his car; in the middle of the night in a deserted parking lot.

Seeing something like that threw you back to when you forced Henry to live with you, eat your food, and use your heat and water.

Today he is a detective and has studied criminology. Also, you helped him get revenge on his entire family. The kid is with Henry's grandparents; his parents are in prison for tax evasion, his brother is on the run from the law, and his ex-girlfriend has lost everything and became an addict.

For Henry, it was just karma. You did the rest. He has no idea, just suspicions. You're not entirely satisfied with that, but at least it was something.

Hopefully, you don't have to do anything similar to anyone else, but you would if you found out someone did something similar to this guy. For some reason, his deep hazel eyes, that adorable smile, and those tight, juicy muscles coyly hidden under his clothes make you feel some kind of way.

You shook your head, perplexed. "Where did these thoughts come from?" you asked yourself quietly. "It's been a long time since I found someone this attractive."

Ignoring your thoughts, you tried to concentrate on your best friend in your arms, but he almost obsessively stared at the godly-looking stranger behind us in the pickup truck.

"Rocky, you little traitor!" you muttered angrily into his fur. "No treats for you today!" Suddenly his head snapped up, looking straight at you with those wide puppy eyes that so many times before broke every resolve you had to go through with your disciplining words. "Not this time Rocky! You've gone too far this time!" you murmured as he tried to soothe you with sloppy little kisses.

Completely ignoring your dog, you opened two gates before leading the stranger to the front of your home. He points to a place that can be seen from afar, hoping to make the stranger somewhat more comfortable.

But even after his truck came to a gentle stop and the engine died, he didn't get out. Standing aside, you waited patiently.

Even though you were calm and patient, that couldn't be said about Rocky. He jumped out of your arms the moment the truck door opened, and before the stranger could get a leg out, Rocky jumped in. "Ohhhhh!" You heard him chuckle heartedly, "Wow, be caaaarefeul!" His soft but deep chuckle quickly turned into light laughter.

Even though you tried to suppress this strange feeling, it was still there. Before you knew it, your heart was jumping a beat faster than usual, and sweat was gathering on your neck under the warm morning sun. Suddenly the comforting scent of cedar was in the air. A fragrance that you loved so much because of the adventures you had with your grandfather and grandmother when you were young.

Hearing your best friend rustle, the metal part of his collar jingling every now and then, made you move closer to the open truck door. From the angle you got closer to it, you saw the singular sweetest moment of your life. This stranger, cuddling with your most excited best friend, who usually hates strangers. After all, he's always the one chasing after those pesky teenagers.

But this one guy? Neither of you ever see? He could steal your best friend away so easily?

Suddenly your feet grew weaker as that strange but wonderful smell intensified. Even stranger, it soon became associated with the smell of freshly cut apples. Standing at the open pickup truck door and looking inside, the smell punched in your nose. You stumbled back for a moment, unable to think.

A bit away from the open pick-up truck door, you could catch yourself again. Rocky gave you a sneaky look that said: "Keep him, you idiot!"

Something he'd never done before, but apparently, this would be the new norm; as long as this stranger was there.

"The little ball of fluff is really friendly, isn't he?" he asked, smiling broadly at you. His perfectly white teeth were almost lighter than his warm eyes that once more sparkled happily. Only this time, it seemed to be genuine.

"I- He- I-" clearing your throat, with your fist in front of your mouth, head slightly bowed, cheeks flushed with shame. Trying to regain your composure, you diminished the small smile that was trying to appear on your serious face. "He's not usually this friendly." You reached out and scratched your dog's head. "He's usually a feisty guy."

Unable to breathe near the stranger because of the pungent smell of cedar and apples he was emitting, you quickly pulled Rocky away so he could get out of his truck.

Hearing him chuckling again and seeing him out of the corner of your eye smoothing his clothes where you could see his chiseled and broad chest made you shudder with attraction.

As he climbed out of his truck, his shirt went up a bit, showing his just as chiseled stomach and back muscles. He seemingly never skips gym! He surely would be a great trainer for you!

But when he jumped out, his knees were slightly bent, making him appear relatively small, but when he straightened his back out and stretched his legs, he was taller than you thought. With thick thighs, muscular calves, long arms but relatively small hands, with strong hands and veins showing all over his arms.

His body looked great, but his greasy hair and oily body showed his inability to meet his other physical needs.

We stood facing each other and just looked into each other's eyes. You could see your past in his eyes, the many forest adventures - all over the world - which you had with your grandparents. Suddenly all these light, happy feelings flooded your heart once more.

Luckily Rocky was there. As soon as he realized you were gone, he barked loudly and snapped you out of your fond childhood memories. Shaking your head and realizing you've been staring at the stranger, your head went bright red, so you turned away quickly and ordered him to follow you.

You could only hope he didn't see your chest rise and fall faster than usual nor hear your heart beating - you were sure even your ranch animals that were far away could listen to it, though.

[Masterlist]

[the-feral-one]

Wo managed to stay awake until Oki, Ogerpon and her siblings got back to the shrine.

As he waited, he had also started on dinner too, making something that everyone would like, and that everyone could eat.

The family discussed what they did throughout the day as they ate at the dinner table.

The discussion shifted once Wo showed them what had had been given to him.

"What's that, Papa Wo?"

"L-looks like an invite.."

Wo looked at what he held, then nodded in response.

"This was given to me earlier. It gives some details about a festival. Now, I know that we have just got back from a previous event, but, at the same time, I do think that it would be nice to attend this one also."

Ogerpon looked at what was on her plate, causing Wo to tilt his head a little.

"What's wrong, Ogerpon?"

Ogerpon hesitated, then began to speak again.

"I wanna go to more parties like that one we were at... ...but..."

Before she could finish, Pink spoke up.

"Wawa-wa wa-wawa wawa-wawa." ("She wants to go to the Terarium.")

Wo looked at Ogerpon, showing concern.

"Yeah.."

Wo's attention was then brought towards Spot.

"O-on the w-way back f-from Levincia, we went through M-Mesagoza.. ..a-and we saw Peseta p-preparing for s-something.. A-after asking th-them about what they w-were doing, w-we found out that th-they were going to the Terarium.."

The Malamar motioned to Ogerpon, who was still looking at her plate.

"...th-then Ogerpon r-ran up to them a-and asked if we c-could go w-with them.."

Ogerpon sniffed. Wo waited until she looked at him.

"..they said we could, and that made us really happy...but...if we go there, we can't go to the party.."

"I know you can't, but I also know that you and your siblings do like to explore the Terarium every now and then. I do remember that, when we all were there earlier this year, me and Oki lost all three of you repeatedly during our game of hide and seek. I did like that game, despite the slight worry it caused us."

"If...we can't go to the party...can we go to the next one..?"

Wo glanced over at Oki and blushed a little, then looked back to Ogerpon.

"The next party would be incomplete without you, Ogerpon~"

Ogerpon jumped a little as she hugged the snail. Wo returned it as he heard her happy sound.

After dinner had been cleared away, the family decided to sit outside the shrine for a while.

"So, when would Peseta say they would come to get you all?"

Pink looked up at Oki from where she sat on the grass.

"Wawa-wa." ("Tomorrow.")

Oki nodded, then sat beside her. He spoke as he observed the Tinkaton playing with the dirt.

"Are you looking forward to it?"

Pink looked up from her dirt pile and nodded, then returned to playing with it.

Oki got up once Pink motioned for him to go back to where Wo was.

"I hope you and Ogerpon and Spot have a good time! You usually do!"

He sat down next to Wo. The snail was showing signs of becoming tired, but was keeping himself awake with a little bit of difficulty.

"It is just going to be you and me when we go to this event, Oki~"

Wo leaned down and lightly nudged Oki, putting a vine around him.

Oki pulled himself up a little and gave him a light peck.

"Let's make the most of it, Wo~"

After sharing a little more light affection, Wo and Oki continued to watch Ogerpon, Pink and Spot until everyone grew too weary to continue being outside. Once everyone got into the shrine they weren't slow in going to their sleeping areas and passing out.

--

Chien-Pao had came to the shrine in the morning hours. As Oki finished preparations, Wo was outside talking to him.

Peseta had arrived too. They discussed what they were going to do at the Terarium, alongside how they were going to make sure that the three siblings didn't get lost in the biomes.

After discussions had finished, alongside preparations, Peseta and the three siblings left the shrine first. Ogerpon waved at Wo and Oki as she and her siblings ran to Mesagoza with the shiny Gholdengo.

Wo gave some extra guidelines to Pao. The leopard told him not to worry, as he was quite used to looking after Grasswither and knew where everything was. He became a little less enthusiastic when Wo mentioned how he also had to look after the allotment too.

Soon, everything had been finalized. Wo and Ok bid farewell to Pao. The snail waited for the leopard to go into Grasswither before going to catch up with Oki and putting a vine into his hand.

[spnhunter4life]

End Up Here

Summary: It's a typical night out for Emily. Friday night. A bar. Some of her closest friends. She expects to have a few hours of fun before heading home. She doesn't expect the handsome stranger that catches her attention so thoroughly, she just can't seem to look away. And she definitely doesn't expect him to look back.

Word Count: 3.3k

A/N: This story is very different from anything else I've written, so I hope people still enjoy! This is my attempt at a non-hunting AU. It's going to be pretty happy, relaxed, and drama free.

Series Masterlist Masterlist

“You’re coming out with us tonight, right?” Rose, my coworker asked. We were currently sitting at the table in the office building, eating our lunch. “Please?” She added, seeing my hesitation. “We all really want you to come.”

She had made plans with three more of our coworkers to meet up at a bar tonight.

“Alright,” I sighed. “I’ll come. But I can’t stay out too late. Some of us actually have to be back here in the morning.”

“Yeah, yeah. I know. You’re all about being to bed at a ‘decent time.’ Honestly, Emily, it’s ok to let loose every now and then. Live a little. You’re an adult. It’s ok to stay up late and have fun with your friends.”

“Of course it’s ok. But if you want me to be able to function in the morning, it’s not smart.”

“You’re just so… I don’t know. Responsible? It’s kind of disgusting. And boring,” Rose teased. She wasn’t being mean. We’d been friends for years, and it never failed to disappoint her when I prioritized sleep over having fun. It’s something she just couldn’t understand. She was a ‘live in the moment and deal with the consequences’ kind of person, whereas I tended to care more about not being miserable the next day.

That’s not to say I never stayed out late and had a good time. But when I knew I had work in the morning, it just wasn’t worth it. 

“Yep. That’s me. Disappointment and killer of good times.” I checked the time on my phone and realized I needed to be getting back outside to get ready for the next class. I gathered up the containers from my lunch and threw them back into the bag I had brought them in. “I’ll be at your house at 7:30,” I told Rose. Then I walked out the door and started bringing up horses.

~~~~~

I got done with work just after 6. I hadn’t updated the rider files from the last class yet, but I could do that tomorrow. I needed to get home if I wanted to be at Rose’s house at the time I’d promised.

“Come on, Bug!” I called to my dog when I stepped back inside the office. Her real name was Ziggy. Bug was just an affectionate nickname that I used a lot. I picked up her bowls that I kept by the door. I heard the tinkling of the name tag on her collar and the pitter patter of her tiny feet as she rushed over to greet me. She ran in circles around my legs, whining in excitement and occasionally stopping to jump up. 

You’d think she’d been alone all day rather than in an office that always had one or two people around and where I came to check on her multiple times throughout the day. She even got to sit in my lap during my break. That’s just how she was though. Any amount of time spent away from me was utterly unacceptable. 

“Let’s go home.” I picked her up, locked the door behind me and then carried her to the car. 

The first thing I did when I got home was hop in the shower. It always felt good to wash off all of the sweat, dirt, horse hair, and mix of horse saliva and snot – walking in a dusty arena meant lots of sneezing horses and they usually got it all over me – I came home covered in.

After my shower I changed into a new, clean outfit and put some gel in my hair. I found some leftovers in the fridge that I heated up and ate quickly before finishing getting ready. I took Ziggy outside and made sure she had food and water before getting back in the car and driving to the house Rose and two of her friends rented together.

“Hey, Mandy,” I greeted the brunette who opened the door and invited me in. I wouldn’t go as far as calling Mandy and Rose’s other roommate Lindsey my friends, but we saw each other enough that we were familiar and comfortable with each other. “Is Rose almost ready?”

“Yeah, I think so. She should be out any minute.”

“I’m coming!” I heard Rose’s voice call from up the stairs. She hurried down, putting one of her earrings in as she walked. She looked me up and down, less than impressed with my outfit, I knew. 

“That’s what you’re wearing?” She asked. I thought the jeans and band t-shirt I had on looked just fine. They weren’t going to win me any dates – especially when compared to Rose’s ripped skinny jeans and tank top, not to mention the effort she’d put into her hair and makeup – but we weren’t trying to meet guys. It was just supposed to be a night out with friends. I told her as much and she rolled her eyes and opened the door. 

She only lived six blocks away from the bar we were going to so we were just walking. There was no point in driving there when it likely wouldn’t be safe for her to drive back. I knew I wouldn’t be staying as late as everyone else, so I wasn’t about to offer to drive. She could walk or get an uber ride.

“You really are no fun. Just because that’s not the goal doesn’t mean someone won’t catch your eye.”

“And if someone does catch my eye I should abandon my friends to talk to him?” I asked.

“Absolutely! On behalf of everybody, if you see someone you like, please do! I probably shouldn’t. I’m at least getting myself out there and going on dates regularly. But you? When’s the last time you actually went out with someone? I know I sound like a broken record here, but I’m going to say it again. Live a little.”

“It’s not like I refuse to date. I just rarely ever even meet single guys my age. And the few I do meet are usually not worth the time.”

“And what exactly would make a guy worth the time?” She asked. I just smiled.

“I don’t know. But I’ll let you know once I figure it out.”

~~~~~

Our other coworkers – Lauren, Morgan, and Natalie – were sitting in a booth waiting for us when we got to the bar. 

“Look who finally decided to show up!” Nat exclaimed when we walked in. “And you managed to convince Emily to come! Miracles do happen.”

“Ha ha. Very funny.” I rolled my eyes at the teasing.

“Don’t get too excited,” Rose warned them. “Grandma here doesn’t plan on having more than one or two drinks and she said she has to leave by 11.”

“What? Come on, Emily, we’re supposed to be out having a good time! You know, team bonding and all that jazz,” Lauren protested. “You can’t stay out later than that?”

“For the record, 11 is late,” I said. There was a round of groans from everybody. “It is! It’s already later than I’m usually up, and I still have to get home. And I have to be able to work in the morning.”

“Tomorrow’s Saturday,” Lauren answered.

“Yeah, but I’ve got work to do with the horses that I didn’t have time for this week.”

“Like what? Could it wait just a couple more days?” Morgan asked. She was the peacemaker of the group, and even though no one was upset, she probably figured she’d get ahead of things in case that’s where it was headed. “I’m not trying to pressure you. It’s just sometimes I think you work too hard. It’s ok to take a break.”

“Like I need to check Domino’s saddle. He seemed like he was maybe a little sore today and I just want to make sure it’s still fitting the way it should. Penny has decided that the east corner of the arena is terrifying ever since we planted that new tree there last weekend so I need to work with her on that, and I still haven’t gotten Finn desensitized to wheelchairs yet. And you might have noticed how dusty the arena is getting. I need to water it down. Plus, the waterers could all stand to be cleaned.”

“Ok, yes. All important stuff,” Nat admitted. “But it’s not like you have to be there at 8 a.m. You could go in the afternoon.”

“We’ll see,” I said. I wasn’t likely to change my mind, but it wasn’t worth arguing about now.

“That’s about enough talk about work,” Rose said. “We’re here to have fun, remember? Whattaya say we all get something to drink and get this night started?”

“Yes please,” Lauren agreed.

We left our booth and walked past the dance floor to the bar. The bartender was already busy with another small group of people. We talked while we waited and I turned my back to the bar, scanning the crowd for any familiar faces. The other girls were absolutely going to want to dance tonight, and while I might participate for a short time if they really pushed it, dancing really wasn’t my thing. I was hoping to find someone I might talk to while they were busy.

“So, let’s be honest. What do we all think of Hannah’s new boyfriend? Think it’ll last?” Lauren asked. Hannah was one of two coworkers who wasn’t with us tonight. He’d come by the other day to pick her up after a meeting.

“Hmm. I’m not sure yet. We only saw the guy for about five minutes. But based on what Hannah has said… maybe. She’s not overwhelmingly excited about him, but that doesn’t mean it couldn’t work out,” I said.

“Mm, I don’t know. It’s a new relationship. If she’s not excited about him in the brand new, beginning, exciting part of it, how’s she going to feel in a few weeks? Or months?” Rose chipped in. 

Morgan had just started to offer her opinion when I noticed the door opening out of the corner of my eye. I turned to see who it was out of habit. This wasn’t the first person to walk through the door since we’d been standing here. He was the first person that I gave more than a passing glance though. 

If it weren’t for the well worn jeans and jacket he was wearing, I could’ve sworn he’d walked straight off the cover of some magazine. He was easily, without question, the most attractive man I’d ever seen in my entire life. In fact, the word ‘gorgeous’ came to mind. It wasn’t a word I usually associated with men, and yet, I couldn’t deny the truth of it.

I watched as he made his way past the tables and booths towards the dancefloor, heading – I assumed – for the bar. I also noted the appreciative stares of nearly every woman he passed. I couldn’t say I blamed them.

“Emily,” Morgan said, not for the first time judging by her tone. “What are you having?”

“Sorry,” I said, turning around to face the bar. “I’ll have a strawberry daiquiri.”

I tuned back into the conversation as we waited for our drinks. The topic had switched – much to Lauren’s annoyance – from Hannah’s new boyfriend to an old boyfriend of Lauren’s that we’d all really liked and were disappointed it didn’t work out with. 

“New subject please,” she ordered. 

I tried to come up with a new topic, but was distracted by the extremely attractive man walking up and leaning against the bar just a few seats away, waiting for the bartender to come take his order. I watched as he scanned the room, much as I had been doing a minute ago, only with an obvious disinterest. It seemed to be more just something to do while he waited. 

His gaze made its way over to where our little group was standing. Like an idiot, I didn’t look away. I was so used to being the quiet, relatively unnoticed bystander that it didn’t even cross my mind that he might notice me. His eyes locked with mine and he smiled. I quickly looked away, feeling my embarrassment announce itself in a rush of heat to my cheeks. Was that a polite smile? Flirty? Smugness at my obvious staring? 

I gratefully grabbed my drink when the bartender handed it to me and we all walked back to the booth we’d claimed earlier. I took a large drink of my daiquiri and focused as hard as I could on the conversation in an attempt to forget what just happened.

Unfortunately, despite my efforts, my focus was tenuous at best. From where I was sitting I had a perfect view of the bar and the gorgeous man as one at a time, two different women sat beside the seat he had apparently taken for the night and flirted with him. I also watched as one after another, those women walked away disappointed.

“Who are you staring at so hard?” Morgan asked, the first to notice my inattentiveness. I was making an attempt to join in the conversation, but apparently I hadn’t done a good enough job participating. Or – the more likely option, I suppose – she had just noticed my staring. Frankly, I was being very rude. I’d barely looked away from the man in the last hour.

I watched in horror as the heads of every one of my colleagues turned in the direction I’d been looking in. Lauren let out a low, appreciative whistle. I heard Natalie breathe out a wow.

“I’m gonna go talk to him,” Rose said.

“Don’t you dare!” I hissed, grabbing her hand before she could stand up.

“What? Not for me, for you,” she clarified. “We’ve all been holding our breath for the day you finally meet someone. And I know you’re not going to go introduce yourself. Let me help you out.”

“No. Just because he’s good looking doesn’t mean he’s worth talking to. Besides, this is our night out. Team bonding,” I said with the smallest hint of put-on enthusiasm.

“I think I speak for all of us when I say we’d be ok with you bailing out on this one,” Nat said. Rose gave me an ‘I told you so’ look. “Especially for someone who looks like that.”

“Seriously guys, no. I mean it. If you go over there and talk to him then… I’m… just… I’ll leave,” I threatened. “I’d rather go home than sit through that.” 

It’s not that I didn’t want to meet the man. I did. Badly. But I wasn’t ok with my friends going up to a complete stranger on my behalf. That was just sad. Plus, old fashioned as it was, my shyness meant I was a big believer in letting the guy make the first move. 

“Ok,” Rose relented. “Sorry. I didn’t realize it was that upsetting to you.”

“Thanks for offering,” I said. “It’s just not why I’m here tonight. And I don’t know what I’d say to him anyway.”

“You don’t have to say anything,” Lauren smirked. “Except maybe ‘my place or yours’. I think that should about cover it.”

“Moving on,” I ordered, which was met by a round of laughter from the group.

“Alright, don’t freak out on me now,” Lauren said as she stood up. “I’m going up to the bar, but I’m not talking to him. I need another drink. Anyone else?”

I’d already had two drinks and didn’t want another, but I did ask for water. Everybody else wanted another drink, so Natalie offered to go with Lauren and help carry everything back. I kept a close eye on them to make sure they didn’t talk to the guy. I watched as he stood from his chair for the first time since he sat down and turned to scan the room again. This time I had the sense to turn away before he caught me looking. 

Lauren and Natalie came back with the drinks and when I looked back in the direction of the bar, I saw that he had moved to the dartboard.

We talked and laughed for another 45 minutes – I hadn’t looked in the good looking guy’s direction even once during this time – and I was glad that, despite my hesitations, I’d agreed to come out tonight. That is, until Rose decided it was time to start dancing. Everybody eagerly agreed and started shuffling off to the dance floor. Only Morgan noticed my reluctance.

“You coming?” She asked.

“Nah. You guys go ahead. I’m not really up for dancing.” The chances of me agreeing to it on a normal night were slim to none. I was not what you might call a gifted dancer and I always felt as stupid as I was sure I looked. But tonight there was absolutely no way I could build up the courage for it. Even though it had been close to two hours ago now, being caught staring by Mr. Leather Jacket left me feeling extremely self conscious. 

“Are you sure? I’m sure everybody would come back if they knew you weren’t up for it. Or I can stay and talk with you.”

“I appreciate that, but don’t worry about it. I’m not going to be the reason the rest of you don’t get to do something you find fun on your night out. I promise I’ll be ok by myself for a little while.”

“Emily, Morgan, get out here!” Rose called. Morgan hurried over to join them. I saw Rose looking at me expectantly and I waved her off. She gave me a ‘you’ve got to be kidding me’ look and came back to the booth.

“Come on!” She encouraged. “We’re dancing!”

“I can see that.”

“We’d like you to join us.”

“You know I don’t dance.”

“Of course you do,” she insisted, grabbing my hands and pulling me with her. “You just don’t love to do it in public.”

“That implies that I’ll do it in private. I can assure you, that’s not true either.” I pulled my hands out of hers and backed up to the wall. “I’ll just watch.”

“Can you please just come with? We don’t want you to be left out. I promise no one is going to be watching and judging you.”

“First of all, believe me, that’s what I tell myself. And I know it’s true, but I still can’t convince myself of that. Secondly, can you please believe that I’m being sincere when I tell you that I honestly don’t mind sitting back?”

“Alright, fine,” she grumbled. “I’ll let it go. For now. But you’re going to have to join us at some point.”

I rolled my eyes but didn’t say anything in response. She turned around and walked back to our group of friends on the dance floor.

“I’ll be back for you in a little bit,” she warned over her shoulder. I didn’t bother contradicting her.

I walked back to our table to grab my water and then, deciding I’d been sitting long enough, moved back over to stand by the wall. I leaned against it and watched all the people that were dancing. I felt a surge of jealousy at how carefree they were and how every single one of them seemed to be competent dancers. If I wasn’t so hopeless at it, I’d be more inclined to join. 

After a few minutes of watching, I remembered my earlier idea and took another scan of the room, searching for a familiar face. I didn’t see anyone in the table area and turned my gaze to the bar. When my eyes passed over the good looking guy I’d been preoccupied with all night, I saw woman number three – or was it four? – leaving his side with a dejected look on her face.

I finished my search, not seeing anyone I knew in the crowd. I decided to steal one more look at the man, only to find him already looking at me. I froze, unsure what to do. He smiled and pushed off the bar, walking towards me.

Tags: (Let me know if you want to be added or removed!) @123passwort @buckybarnes-1917 @chicken-nuggs-and-cozy-hugs @globetrotter28

[writtenjewels]

Incubus part 4

Part One, Part Two, Part Three

Jason could feel everyone's eyes on him as he dug into breakfast that morning. He ignored them, shoveling the food in his mouth. It was the same shit as always but he ate it like it was the best thing he ever tasted. Jason couldn't believe how hungry he was. When he finished, he glanced over at Nick's tray.

“You gonna finish that?” he asked.

“What the hell, man?” Nick shook his head, bewildered.

“I'm hungry,” Jason shrugged.

By now the tests were routine. Jason sat through them and then dutifully ran the treadmill while the CENTCOM people monitored his heart-rate. At any moment he expected one of them to pull him aside and confront him about last night, but they never did. What kind of powers did that infection give Salim, anyway?

After lunch Jason hit the showers. He was going to see Salim again tonight. The prospect excited him. It hurt to watch Salim walk away after all they went through in the temple and at the time Jason thought he would never see the man again. It probably wasn't smart to keep seeing him and risk CENTCOM finding Salim, but Jason didn't have the heart to send the man away again.

Thoughtlessly Jason's hand strayed between his legs. Last night was the best sex he ever had. All those years of repressing, of pushing down his true desire, it all came pouring out and he gave himself over to it. The way Salim looked at him-- like he was something valued and loved-- nearly choked him. He shuddered remembering the feel of Salim's sharp teeth in his neck and the inside of his thighs.

That hot, thick tongue had filled him so many times last night. The way it forked made it feel good inside him, brushing his prostrate over and over. Jason gasped and closed his hand firmly around his length. His legs had gone numb from being open for so long and eventually he lost the energy to do more than lay back while Salim's tongue thrust. Jason began to stroke himself thinking of it. That tongue had licked his shaft, too, the fork of it gliding along his slit and curling around the width of him.

“Fuck,” Jason cursed out loud. One hand held firm to his cock while the other drifted down to brush a finger between his ass cheeks. Salim had fucked him over and over and over-- but only with his tongue. Jason pushed a finger against the tight ring of muscles.

Jason? He froze, the tip of his finger so close to entering. Jason blinked and looked around but Salim wasn't there. Are you all right, my soul?

“Salim?” His body battled against sensations of relief and panic. “Are you here? They can't find you.”

I'm at home, my beloved. I sensed your need.

“Uh, I'm good, I'm good,” Jason assured him hurriedly. He let his finger slip away again. He wasn't going to let his horniness get Salim captured.

You're lying, my love. Your desire calls to me. I promised I would feed you.

“Yeah?” Jason huffed. “What about your desire? You didn't even whip your dick out last night!” There was silence for a few heartbeats.

Stay where you are. I'll be there soon.

“No!” Jason protested. Panicked images flew through his mind of CENTCOM finding Salim and running experiments on him. All because of Jason. “Salim, don't come here. I was just masturbating!” But he didn't hear a reply. Maybe if he got dressed quickly enough... First he had to take care of his erection. He reached to turn the water cold, hoping that would kill it.

“Jason, it's all right.” He turned and Salim was standing just outside the showers. He looked so normal in his shirt and jeans. There was a smudge of dirt on his cheek. Salim's eyes raked slowly over Jason's body, making the marine tremble and his erection throb.

“You... you shouldn't be here,” Jason choked out.

“I had to answer your call,” Salim said with a shake of his head. “It's part of my nature now. Zain and I figured it out: I am an incubus, a creature who feeds off desire and sexual pleasure. But what's interesting is I can't even taste anyone's desire but yours.”

Jason heard the words but couldn't really process them. He was locked in Salim's gaze, his body aching for those lips to press against his skin, those teeth to sink into his flesh, that body to be against his. Salim's eyes grew darker and he stepped into the shower room. Each step seemed restrained and Jason trembled imagining what it would be like if Salim let himself go.

“I sensed you,” Salim went on, “all the way from my house. I was in the garden and I could feel your desire. You needed me, so I came.”

“I need you to be safe, syfi,” Jason argued weakly. He didn't know how he knew that word, but he somehow understood the meaning: my sword. “It's the middle of the fuckin' day,” Jason persisted. “They'll see you. I can't let them.”

“Do you want me to leave?”

“No,” Jason admitted. He couldn't bring himself to lie to Salim's face. “But I don't want them to capture you, either.”

“They won't.” Salim was now close enough to rest his hands on Jason's hips. The marine was panting hard, gritting his teeth against the ache in his erection. “A curious thing about my powers, rohi, is that I can control certain things that would prevent me from feeding. We won't be interrupted.”

“Salim...” He was losing this fight. Salim's fingers grazed along his hips, skimming his ass and brushing between his thighs. “What... what are those words you call me?”

“My soul,” Salim interpreted. He pressed a kiss to Jason's throat, hands going back up to Jason's ass. “My beloved,” he went on, slipping a finger between the cheeks. “My love.” The tip of a finger pushed into Jason's entrance. Jason's body buzzed and he clawed at Salim's clothes dazedly.

Fuck me, fuck me, please, fuck I need your cock, need you, bite me, fuck, fuck, fuck!

Jason found himself being forced to his knees. Salim's hands grabbed his thighs, spreading his legs apart.

“Forgive me, Jason,” Salim was saying between kisses to Jason's neck and shoulders. “I was careful not to leave marks behind thinking it would protect you. But I see now it only hurt you not to have some proof I was here.”

“Please,” Jason whined out. He felt teeth sink in and whimpered. This time Salim didn't lick the bite, instead moving on to leave more teeth marks in Jason's flesh. My soul, my beloved, my love, my sword. Mine, mine, mine. “I love you,” Jason confessed. “I fell in love in that temple.”

“I love you too, Jason,” Salim returned. His finger was pushing in deeper. His other hand ran up Jason's body, fingers pinching his nipple. “The parasite that infected me sensed this and tried to kill it. I think I would have become a monster.”

“You're not... fuck.” Jason twitched as Salim spread him wider with two fingers. “You're mine,” he insisted. “Not the parasite's.”

“Yes, direi, I am,” Salim agreed. He rubbed and tweaked each of Jason's nipples in turn, his fingers pumping steadily. A third was pressed in and Jason groaned. His heart beat faster anticipating the stretch when Salim used his cock. “You rescue me over and over again, direi.” Salim kissed his cheek, Jason turning to greedily take his mouth. “I love you,” Salim purred.

“I love you,” Jason echoed. He already forgot where he was and the possible danger. He felt completely safe with Salim. Jason grunted as the fingers slipped out of him, only to groan as they were replaced by the girth of Salim's cock. His eyes fluttered as the length slowly eased inside him, finally coming to rest. Jason's nerves were on fire and he gasped for breath, adjusting to the sensation.

“I think it's my turn to rescue you, rohi,” Salim decided. His hand drifted down to wrap around Jason's cock. “I won't let them keep you here any longer.”

“H-how...?” That was all Jason managed. Salim started stroking him and rocking against him at the same time. Jason couldn't form words anymore.

“I kill vampires. Do you think I'm afraid of these people?” Salim's breath was hot against his ear. Jason could feel the gentle slap of skin on skin as his lover thrust against him. Just imagining Salim tearing through the CENTCOM guys like he did the vampires got Jason excited. Salim chuckled and bit him gently on the shoulder. “That arouses you, hayati?”

“How... d'you think... I fell for you?” Jason panted back. Faster, fuck me harder, bite me, make me yours, my sword, mine, fuck me, fuck me. Salim moved against him in response, teeth scraping Jason's jaw and fingers twisting his nipples.

“Insatiable,” Salim gasped. “Were you like this before? Did you think of me fucking you down there in the dark?”

“Yep.” There was no point in lying about it. Not when Salim could feel Jason's lust. “When you... killed that first... vampire. Wanted to... suck your dick.”

“Oh?” Salim angled his hips and thrust harder, faster, striking against Jason's prostrate. The marine howled as white spots burst in his vision. “I wanted you to fuck me when I saw you running to save me. Watching you fight arouses me too, hayati.”

“You... wanted me to....?” Jason blinked dazedly.

“I wanted you to bend me over that alien console and fuck me,” Salim hissed in his ear. Jason shuddered at the vivid image that popped in his head. Fuck, he was so close. “Go ahead and cum, Jason,” Salim coaxed him.

Jason was happy to comply, and even happier that his orgasm didn't stop Salim from pounding into him. Holy shit, was it always going to be like this now? Both of them feeding off each other's desires? Jason wasn't even infected and he was being stuffed-- both literally and figuratively. He couldn't imagine what this must feel like for Salim.

“Still so hungry,” Salim moaned, and Jason knew he meant both of them. “I'm getting you out of here now.”

Jason let out a little grunt in answer. He hoped this would never stop, that he and Salim would always be this hungry for each other. Even if the infection was somehow cured, he never wanted to stop feeding.