#I want to scream but our apartment walls are very thin

[damneddualities]

I’m just gonna vent because when I get this frustrated and stressed I go pretty much nonverbal but keeping it in doesn’t help either. Also I can’t afford therapy so Tumblr it is.

I recently adopted a cat to be my ESA as petting and cuddling with a cat has always helped calm me down and is almost stim like. I had to leave my elderly cat back home partially due to his age but also because my sister would have thrown a fit if I took MY cat with me down south while I was in school. Mind you she adopted a kitten a couple months ago. Part of the reason I did t fight it was because she also needs animals for emotional support. Yknow she has her dog but whatever I’ve mostly moved past that.

Last year I lost the last kitten I had adopted to the FVIP which is basically kitty COVID and has a 10% of becoming a neurological issue that is almost immediately fatal. My partner is living with me in our apartment while I finish up my last year of college. Before coming down my mom made them promise to not let me get a cat. Mind you she didn’t communicate this with me, my partner did. They have recognized however that our cat greatly improved my mental health and my stress based compolusions. However I have not told my mom yet about our cat.

This is for a few reasons. One being the aforementioned “promise”. Another is that I recently lost my job because I was apparently hired on as seasonal despite being hired before seasonal started. I still don’t have a job and it’s been almost a month. So my mom who is a co-signer on our lease has been helping with rent and groceries because inflation is a bitch on top of being without a job.

Mind you I only adopted this cat because I had gotten hired somewhere. Only to be immediately ghosted on when I would start (then never even sent me the onboarding information). So now I have no savings, no job income for at least another three weeks (working on getting hired somewhere else) and suddenly my cat is shitting blood.

Took her to the closest vet I could because I didn’t have money for a carrier yet. The internet and reviews said they were good and adorable. The first visit is even free! I get there and the tech that comes in immediately starts talking about money and cost. They barely even looked at my cat.

Anyway I explain what caused me to come in (part of it being trauma from suddenly losing my last cat) and they advise me that they’ll probably have to do blood work and give her meds and the price tag just keeps upping. I tell them the most I could possibly pay that day (as they didn’t have any payment plan options and my deductible on the pet insurance hadn’t been paid yet anyway) was $200

So the tech takes my baby back and I sit alone in that room for upwards of twenty minutes. When the tech comes back the vet is with him. She has a type of tapeworm-adjacent intestinal parasite. They tell me they’re putting her in three medications: a probiotic to help with the diarrhea, an antibiotic for the inflamed anus cussed by the excessive shitting (which was where the blood was coming from) and the meds for the parasite itself. Only the Rx for the parasite isn’t on hand and I have to order it through chewy. (So another $20-40. That prescription isn’t even expected to arrive before the 1st so it will have been a week since the appointment that the meds arrive. )The vet leaves and I pay the $147 (an extra $12 for the cardboard carrier they used) and go home.

The next day she is shitting everywhere with seemingly no control. Luckily we had quarantined her to the bathroom so our dog wouldn’t get infected from eating her poop. Now she has rectal incontinence from the parasites. And on top of that she’s bloated from it as well. None of these symptoms/side effects were things the vet told me to expect. So I’m panicking and thankfully was able to get in touch with a vet through online chat for free as I’d gone completely nonverbal in my panic and stress.

All this leads up to me having an emotional breakdown in bed the other night because one of the things I struggle the most with is feeling like a burden, especially a financial one. And I feel like an awful pet owner because our cat loves cuddles and being around the rest of us and now she’s quarantined in the bathroom and I can hear her meowing for attention that I can’t give her for longer than like five minutes.

My partner comforted me and helped me get out of my head and I finally felt like I was doing a bit better. Then my mom calls and because I was taking a depresso nap I didn’t answer so she texts the both of us. To my partner she texts her questions and to me I get the anxiety inducing “call your mother now” text.

I call her. Immediately I’m being berated for using DoorDash to buy McDonald’s the other day. Sorry my depression is chronic and makes it hard to find motivation to cook lunch let alone eat. Then she moves on to my use of Cashapp. A use which I’ve told her in the past it to get money into my own account through another bank which doesn’t have branches near where I’m currently living. Money which needs to be in there for my bills such as my medications and reoccurring subscriptions to be paid. Also it was how I was paying for the vet visit without her finding out I have a cat.

Yes I know I should tell her but I know that when I do it will be an endless barrage of how I don’t know how to save money or so finances and how I shouldn’t get an animal if I can’t afford it and basically implying that I am a financial burden. A concern I have shared with her in the past and she has assured me I’m not. She may say it but her actions and the way she talks to me say otherwise. And if I tell her I got it becuase I had been hired but then was unexpectedly ghosted she’ll give me shit about not confronting the people who “hired” me, knowing that I don’t do well with confrontations with authority and that I don’t communicate well when I’m upset or stressed.

She also started in on why the hell was I needing to take a nap. And rather than have to explain my mental disabilities ((adhd, chronic depression, anxiety (and undiagnosed autism)) tax on me physically I just told her I had a headache (another thing I deal with chronically). She immediately goes into well, and I quote, “prepare for the headache to get worse” and that’s when she starts laying in about the expenses on my account that she has access to. I’m fucking 25 I don’t want to be treated like a child who doesn’t realize how the world works.

Mind you this woman spent at least 2/3 of her teaching career working with disabled kids as a special needs teacher. But would she ever admit her own daughter is autistic and has periods of being nonverbal? No. And I learned not to rely on others because my older siblings always seemed to be of a higher priority growing up than I did. My middle sister is medically diagnosed as “mentally retarded” (yahoo /s for the medical industry 30+ years ago not knowing what the term developmentally delayed is -_-) so she was mentally younger than I was by the type I was ten. My oldest sister is practically a narcissist who I was constantly compared to and I saw how she took advantage of my mom financially (she’s 35+ and has a well laying career but my mom is still the one paying her student loans).

This has probably made no sense and is all over the place but I’m too tired to edit it to be more cohesive and I warned y’all it was a rant. I’m just tired of being treated like an idiot and a burden. Not to even mention the fact that I’m supposed to have access to the money my grandfather set aside for me in a trust (RIP Popop) but my mom won’t confront her younger sister about why she hasn’t handled it yet. Which brings up my partners concern that if the trust wasn’t set up before my grandfather death and is only stipulated in the will then my aunt as the executor can just say fuck you to all of us and keep everything for herself. With her being the most well off out of all of us.

My Popop vaguely told me about this money before he passed because he saw how the world was going financially. He knew I would struggle as the youngest. My middle sister will likely always live with my parents. My eldest sister is married with kids and has a well paying career and owns a home. I’m relying on grants and scholarships and federal loans to pay for college and worked (including my schooling, and my internship) over 75 hours a week last semester just to get by. Plus I know that when my parents go I will be responsible for my middle sister. We do not get along. She resents me for not having the same difficulties as her and for having thing she doesn’t as her younger sister. But my narcissistic eldest sister is a fucking cunt who would probably just blatantly refuse to help out. So I get to be implied to be a burden who is incapable of managing their own money while also being blasted with the pressure of knowing that should anything happen to my parents I will become responsible for my middle sister.

TLDR: moms are fucking nosy and incredibly ableist despite being a former special needs teacher who’s students still remember and send her gifts and I’m out of a job with a shit ton of sudden expenses

If you’d like to help out my Cashapp and Venmo are both lexmars42 and you could even buy something from my redbubble (same as my tumblr handle). Literally a fucking dollar or two would be appreciated.

[wickedscribbles]

whoever makes my baby cry (is gonna lose some teeth tonight) ch. 2

Masterlist

Ch. 1

Pairing: Wade Wilson/Deadpool x Logan Howlett/Wolverine

Rating: Explicit

Tags: flashbacks, alcoholism mention, domestic fluff, flirting, sexual tension, anxiety, insecurity

Word Count: 3K

If you like what I write and can afford to do so, please consider buying me a coffee! It would be much appreciated.

Logan watches as his pulse beats through the thin skin under his jaw, shaving cream standing out against the line he’s passed through with the razor.

A real date. Yeah, okay. I’d rather get stabbed.

Like he hadn’t moved in a handful of weeks after they started fucking – Logan’s landlord be damned. (Wade was downright gleeful when Logan recounted that all it took to convince the greasy little bastard to let him out of his lease was threatening to bend him in half like a twig.) It’d taken him, no joke, one trip. Just him and his duffel bag of clothes against the world, a few toiletries.

Wade, on the other hand, has stuff. One might even say an abundance of it. His personality is reflected everywhere in the apartment. It doesn’t all exactly match, but Logan gets the feeling that that’s not the aesthetic that Wade wanted in the first place. No doubt he’d say that matching is boring. And it all suits him, suits the space – bold, bright colors and patterns here, softer ones there. Framed prints and soft blankets. Stuff he’s actually taken the time to collect, things he actually likes.

Well, he’s not going to say that he isn’t jealous, settling into a space like that. Outside of his time at the X-Mansion, he hadn’t taken much time to pause and let himself have something that felt comfortable to live in. There, he’d had a nice bed to curl up in and books and pictures on the walls – taped there instead of framed, but still, it was something. Mostly ones the kids had taken with him, brandishing their chunky Polaroids, darting after him in the hall.

“Mr. Wolverine! You wanna get in our photo?”

How was he gonna say no?

They’d come out all blurry, the kid’s thumb half over the actual picture, but what you could see of them showed the kids all smiling like it was the happiest day of their lives. Then they wanted him to stick around so they could take another one, so he could have a copy, too. Logan couldn’t bring himself to tell them that his head was screaming from the latest withdrawal and he was trying to get the hell out so he could suck down the nearest booze resource.

Cheesy ones with Rogue, their faces squished close to the camera. His face tilted in, one eyebrow arched, while she puffed out her cheeks. She’d laughed until she cried when they saw how it turned out, then got the hiccups so bad he had to teach her the peanut butter trick.

“You keep it,” she’d said once she could breathe. “I can’t look at that anymore or I’ll just die all over again.”

So he did.

She was a good kid. They understood one another, in a lot of ways.

He had a few pictures with the crew, too. One where he’s standing next to the man himself, a hand hovering just over the back of Charles’ chair like he’s not sure what to do with it. Jean took that one, and Logan’s not quite smiling, his mouth tight. In contrast, Charles’ face is the picture of open kindness, like he’s delighted to be there. Logan’s looking right at Jean. Even thinking about that picture, he knows Scott was right beside her. Watching him, watching her.

What a fucking mess. He’s not about to touch the knot of guilt that thinking about Jean brings up with a ten foot fucking pole.

After…after everything, Logan never let himself get comfortable anywhere. He knew he didn’t deserve it.

Wade seems to have different ideas, hounding him to mix up the vibe in here with whatever he wants to add to Wade’s already very decorated apartment. Logan had dodged that offer and deferred it, time and time again, until walking home one night in the dead of winter.

He and Wade were trudging along, freezing their asses off, clutching takeout. Logan was somewhere in between listening to Wade tell him some story about his latest job and concentrating on not falling on all the ice that had built up on the city sidewalks.

Logan isn’t a fan of being cold, but he’s even more annoyed by the city itself. Dirty, loud, crowded – impossible to escape the suffocating press of the population at any given point in time. As if his own racing thoughts weren’t bad enough, now he has to deal with being overstimulated all. The. Time. There are ways to make it easier, and Wade has done a lot to help him figure it out. Still, he misses the quiet of a more rural living space.

They’re almost home when something catches Logan’s eye, jutting out from the curb. It’s an end table, fucking fancy and hand crafted, if he’s right. Sunken against a load of wet cardboard, half covered in snow and frozen city sludge. He pauses mid-stride once they pass it, hesitates, then circles back.

“And just for fun I told him I was going to feed him his eyes like grapes, and of course I didn’t, but you know he started crying and – where’d ya go?”

“Hmm.”

Logan raps his knuckles against the varnished wooden top of the thing. Real wood. It’s nice. He knows people throw shit out to the curb all the time, and it’s a hit or a miss on whether or not it’ll be worth anything. Wade’s picky on what he’ll bring back, and there’s a whole process on cleaning it.

“Oh,” says Wade, reorienting himself in the dark and finding Logan again after a few seconds. “Okay, okay, I see what we’re doing. You like that, boy? You wanna take that stick home?”

“Shut it.” Logan answers, but there’s no bite to it. “Alright, I’m set.”

He hefts the table under his forearm and settles back in stride beside Wade, who’s looking at him with delight, all big brown eyes and toothy grin. The expression feels overwhelming sometimes. What the hell has he done to earn it? Logan doesn’t know. All he knows is that he’s found something that he likes, and Wade’s happy, and that they take it home (home) to clean up and put on Logan’s side of the couch.

God, they’re getting so fucking domestic.

Logan taps the razor to the edge of the sink, rinses off. He still looks like the same man he was before he started shaving, just a little more nervous and a little less scruffy. He isn’t sure what else he expected. All that’s left to do is get dressed, slap on some deodorant and cologne. That all takes about two minutes flat, and by the time he pushes the shirtsleeves of the dark green dress shirt up to his elbows like he knows Wade likes, he’s beaten his own time by about seven minutes.

After a final – futile – attempt to get his cowlicks to lie flat, Logan steps back out of the bathroom.

Wade is draped over the kitchen counter, teasing Bonnet with the laser pointer, but perks up instantly when he hears Logan come out.

“Oh my gosh,” he gushes, kicking his feet at the bar. He hops down to close the short distance between them, wrapping his arms comfortably around Logan’s waist. Logan lets him, suddenly feeling shy. “Peanut, fucking look at you. You could have warned a guy you could clean up like this. And you smell amazing.”

“It’s nothin’,” Logan mutters. His face feels way too hot for him not to be blushing at all the unnecessary attention. “I just – shaved and put a shirt on.”

“Which is a testament to how hot you are all the time,” Wade sighs, world weary. “God, no one suffers like I do.”

Logan rolls his eyes to the ceiling. Saying thanks to this sort of easy praise isn’t something he can tackle – he’d rather punch a grizzly than look Wade in the eye and say that right now – so he shoots for matching sarcasm.

“Oh, you’ve got it real bad. I feel sorry for ya.”

Even though Wade’s dressed again, in sweatpants and a tee this time, Logan can clearly see the outline of his hard cock through the thin material. Wade notices him noticing and takes the opportunity to run his broad hands up and down Logan’s exposed forearms with another sigh, raising goosebumps to his skin.

“Yeah, it’s hard out here,” he purrs. “Or, well. Here.”

He places Logan’s hand over his dick, and it’s one of those frequent occasions where Logan isn’t sure whether to start fucking him, tell him to knock it off, or just laugh. Wade’s brain operates on a system that Logan prefers to call “ludicrous to the point of zero survival instinct”, and to be honest, why should he have any? He doesn’t need it anymore.

But it sure keeps Logan on his toes.

“Hmm…”

Logan brings his hand to Wade’s jaw and tilts his face, watching with low delight curling in his stomach as the other man’s eyes flutter shut. Fuck, but he’s pretty.

“If you take as long to get ready as you say you will, we’re never gonna leave this apartment if we fuck on top of all that.”

He wants Wade right back. If there's one thing the man knows how to do, it's tempt him. The look on his face says c’mon, Logan, we can make it quick. Please? They both know that quick isn’t possible for them once they get started.

“Will we?” Logan prompts. He kisses him once, twice, trying hard not to get lost in the affection and how Wade reacts to it. Wade scowls, pouts like a little kid.

“Damn it, no.”

It's hard not to grin. “Well, pick which one you want more, then.”

Groaning like he’s being stabbed through the lung, he trudges to the bathroom, oozing drama from every pore. He lingers at the door for a moment, crossing his arms with his date clothes in hand.

“I hate it when you’re rational.”

Chuckling from where he’s bent down to pet the cat, Logan only shrugs.

“One of us has to be.”

Only pausing to give him a whimsical middle finger followed swiftly by heart-hands, Wade disappears into the bathroom to start his own routine.

Guess he's really set on this.

He'd started asking to go out weeks ago, so Logan isn't too surprised. But it's not like they don't already go out. Hell, they're out together all the time – running errands, walking the dog, doing jobs, walking around the city. Personally, he isn't sure why this has to be any different.

“Why though?” Logan had grumbled, sleepy, at the time the idea of a real date was proposed. On their sectional, he was curled up under Wade's arm, head buried in his chest. Dozing off to some three hour long YouTube documentary Wade loved to dissociate to while he scrolled on his phone.

“Because it's nice,” Wade had said back, after a pause. “I dunno, maybe it'd just be nice to go out as a couple and not because we literally have to leave the apartment.”

Well, he's fucked.

Wade's voice had gone all uncharacteristically defensive, and Logan knew that was his sign to just be a good partner and let him have this.

He'd said something like okay, sure, baby, ‘course, shoving his face into the couch so he didn't have to think anymore, and now here they are. Logan still isn't quite sure why Wade wants this, but if it gets him this excited, then he'll go along too.

It's good to see him happy.

But Wade wasn't fucking around. He is taking forever in there. He should've known he'd take ages when Shania Twain started blasting, but this goes far beyond Logan's twenty minutes.

Is this normal?

A part of him starts to wonder if he's been doing it wrong, all this time – if getting ready for a date is really supposed to take as long as Wade's taking. He's never really been on consecutive dates, but given that he and Wade are definitely a package deal from here on out, maybe he was supposed to take longer.

Pacing a little, he consults his reflection in a kitchen cabinet. Checks his teeth. All good. He still just looks like himself, for better or for worse.

Getting anxious once Wade's Spotify playlist slips out of Shania’s greatest hits and into lesser known territory, he decides to head out for a quick walk to give himself something to do.

Be right back, taking Lil Bit around the block, he texts.

“OKAY HAVE FUN!” Wade yells over the opening of Whose Bed Have Your Boots Been Under. Of course, Puppins is out-of-her-mind delighted at the prospect of a spontaneous walk. It never fails to amaze Logan to see how the dog can go from a dead sleep to completely alert once the word walk is whispered anywhere near her – or if a treat bag is rustled. She jumps around his legs for a second while Logan rustles her mangy-looking little head, waiting for her to get the energy out so he can attach the leash. Then they’re back out the door, her little nails clicking on the sidewalk.

It’s a nice day, as far as the city goes. Spring is unfurling itself again, bringing back more pleasant air, something more tolerable than car fumes and the smell of garbage. Just cool enough to bite, but not cold enough for a coat. Puppins is going wild in it, her pig’s tail curled up at attention and her head raised as if she’s trying to see everything all at once.

Logan half hopes that whatever Wade has planned for the day, they’ll get to be out in it, if only for a while.

His phone buzzes in his pocket.

Ready! ❤️👀😉

“Alright, pack it up, heartbreaker,” he sighs at the dog, who is inevitably trying to fuck the German Shepherd who lives two doors down. Again. Logan makes awkward eye contact with the man the German Shepherd is attached to, does a little wave as he’s tugging her away.

“You’re a pain in the ass, you know that?”

Puppins just snorts at him, just as excited to be going in as she was to be going out.

When they make their way back in, Logan turns to hang her leash at the door, part of the usual routine. He can hear Wade somewhere behind him, crouching to greet Puppins in a flurry of saccharine words and tummy rubs that may or may not make her piss herself a little in excitement. (Whenever Logan expresses annoyance at how he gets the dog riled up, Wade just quips that he’s jealous, and that if Logan wants Wade to start greeting him like that, all he has to do is ask.)

“Alright, is this a piss or a no piss situa–”

Logan stops in the middle of his sentence, because he’s just turned and seen Wade.

Wade’s standing there in one of those patterned button-downs he likes – very nice, one he’s never seen before – and expensive-looking, dark slacks. That’s not what’s throwing him off. What makes Logan pause, for far too long (because he has no clue what the fuck to say) is the fact that Wade has taken the time and effort to cover up every inch of scarring on his face. It’s not perfect, but it’s pretty damn close.

It has to be some sort of high level makeup magic. Logan can smell the faint hint of it, but god did he make it look realistic. And of course, again with the fucking hair.

He’s reminded of the photograph he’d once found of Wade, stuffed in the back of a drawer. His arm slung around Vanessa’s shoulders, both of them beaming at the camera. Before he looks like he does now. Still so very clearly him, sweet brown eyes and a boyish face. He’d never brought it up to Wade – it seemed clear that the picture wasn’t something he was supposed to be looking at. Every other photo he’d ever seen with Wade in it had him looking the way he does now.

Logan’s chest fills with dread.

Wade does not look like Wade anymore. He doesn’t like it. He’s offended that Wade thought he had to try and look different to go out on some “real” date. But those thoughts and feelings are massive, overwhelming in a way that makes it hard to even articulate. Logan can only look at him, disbelieving, upset.

Wade beams at him like nothing’s happening.

“No piss!” he says triumphantly. “See, I told you she’s calming down. Just take ‘er over to Al’s place and hotbox her once a week.” Wade pats the little dog on her almost-naked side. “Good for the mind and the soul.”

What the fuck is he supposed to do? What is he supposed to say? A vague sense of panic floods the back of his throat like bile.

“Right,” Logan manages to croak.

A beat of some of the most awkward silence he thinks he’s ever lived through.

Fuck, say something, say fucking anything!

Logan takes a deep breath in. Out. In again. Finally finds it in him to crouch down to where Wade is on the kitchen floor. He puts a hand on his shoulder.

“Darlin’,” he starts, and still gets a tiny kick out of how bashful the term gets Wade. The other man’s eyes skitter away from his, like he’s a blushing schoolgirl. “You look – you look nice. I like your shirt. It’s new, right?”

Wade nods excitedly. “Mmhm, new and a steal! I mean, I didn’t steal it. But goddamn, was it reasonably priced. I mean, I like to look nice as much as the next merc, but we’re not exactly working with an Avengers budget, are we?” He looks panicked for a moment. “I mean, how long before this whole Poolverine craze blows over and we’re old news, anyway?”

“Wade –”

“What I’m trying to say is,” Wade continues, getting to his feet with athletic grace, “we should live it up while we can. And I think the author’s about ready for the chapter to end so we can move on to the good stuff. Yeah?”

He really wishes he knew what Wade was going on about half the time.

Sighing, Logan clambers to his feet as well, taking the hand that Wade offers him. “Okay, okay, yeah. But can we just sit down and – and talk when we get home?”

Their fingers interlock as Wade reaches for his keys. “Sure, honey badger. Whatever you want.”

[swampstew]

Luffy, N-31 ~ Triple Penetration

Summary: You never believed in mermaids - until you saw one. Oh and he's unique af. What a smile he has, seems friendly. Surely nothing bad will happen.

Warnings: Spicy and delicious but marking Dead Dove because it is pure grade monsterfucking, tentacle porn which I've never dabbled in (im pretty sure) so be nice to me. Octupus Merman Luffy with female reader, consent very strongly implied and outright said but I'm high so if I forgot that's on me. Pretty sure. 99.99%. Title says it, triple penetration via lotsa tentacles, anal creampie, suctioning of erogenous zones, octopus anatomy heavily researched fight me. Word Count: 622

Cecaelia are rare creatures indeed, often only found in small parts of the world. Like mermaid, this species of humanoid creature has the lower body of an octopus, utilizing it much like a real world octopus would. Its been said that they are either sadistic monsters, or playful fishfolk, there does not seem to be any in between. Due to its nature, Cecaelia are able to breathe in water and air, as well as contort their body into many shapes, sizes, and colors. It is unconfirmed if male merman become senescent after courtship like a traditional octopus, or if they lose their appendage.

You were pushed against the wooden door of your ship, tentacles holding your wrists flush against the wood as the creature’s extra tentacles felt you up. Exploring your body eagerly with curiosity. His flexible arms squeezed your flesh, your thighs, your breasts as the human side of the creature leaned in close to whisper in your ear, “I finally caught you my siren,” he cradled your face with slender fingers. “I loved our game of chase, but I’m ready to have you now. Would you have me?”

With a needy gasp, you nodded. You came across him as he sunbathed on some rocks as you sailed by the island he was on, and when you saw his upper torso – you were sure then and there you wanted to fuck him, and confidently cat-called him. Seeing that he was half fish was like going through the five stages of grief, but he had been friendly and funny, and you were secretly pining. With the way his suctions pulled at your skin and the way he softly cupped your body, it was not hard for you to succumb to your needs.

“Yes,” you whispered.

Your clothes were ripped off as his tentacles released you in exchange for the fabric. His strong muscular arms caught you before you could fall and he pressed his lips to yours in frenzied need. His fingers following suit to your cunt when you moaned at his kisses. His fingers plunged over and over inside you while a thin tentacle curved around your thigh, the tip of the tentacle wrapped around your mound and a single tentacle sat above your clit. And it started pulling. When you screamed in pleasure, he added two more tenacles, wrapped around your breasts with suctions over your nipples. Carnal pleasure ripped from you as his arms made you fall apart, squirting over his body, he bit your throat lightly as you came on him, body convulsing wildly but held firmly to the door.

“Can I have you have you?”

“You can have me any way you want, Luffy. I never want you to take your arms off me.”

Luffy pulled back, his tentacle arms moving to position you while gently rubbing against your core and ass - two held your arms together, two held your legs apart. The suction cups doing the most to loosen and lubricate you with your arousal and his own secretions. Then three tentacles rushed to plug your mouth, your pussy, and your asshole as the merman stroked his hectocotyli (cock head). Your moans muffled by the tip of his tentacle as it played with your tongue, your pussy quivered against the squirming muscles that was sucking on your inner walls, your g spot, and your clit.

As you came around his tentacle, Luffy pulled his arm from your ass to replace it with the head of his cock. He ripped his tentacle arm from your mouth to latch his mouth on it as he roared and bucked his body against your shaking one. Semi-clear fluids leaked from your holes as his arms gently pulsed.

2 tiles to go, and since we've already made 60+ calls, the Halloween Scenario is going to be:

Halloween party/séance gone wrong scenario

[key-to-the-shadow]

Just An Act

Just An Act ~ Eddie Vedder X Fem!Reader

♫ trope: colleagues, tension tension tension, angst

♫ warnings: strong language, alcohol, drugs, angst, use of y/n, predetermined last name (poncier pronounced like pawn-see-a)

♫ words:

♫ a/n: loosely based on the movie 'singles'

Masterlist

----

I wore my loose light-washed jean shorts over thin black stockings that had holes ripped all around them from the last gig we played. We were playing a small set today because there were about ten of the most popular Seattle Grunge bands playing tonight. Each band got four songs.

I pulled my hair up in a messy bun letting small strands of my hair out to frame my face. Having your hair in your face during a gig wasn't fun so I always needed it out of my way.

We were the first band up and I watched as the crowd began to grow.

"Hey, Y/N," Eddie walked up to me. I acknowledged him with a tilt of my head. "You good with this set?" He asked handing me a crumpled sheet of printer paper with messy black ink scrawled onto it.

I looked over the song choices.

We would open with Garden, personally my favorite, then Given to Fly, Why Go, and then finally close with Go.

It was a pretty solid set. "Yeah, this is good."

I've known Eddie for a very long time. We were neighbors as kids and he and my older brother Cliff were best friends. When Cliff and I moved out and into an apartment, Eddie moved into the apartment right next to us.

Eddie used to be the drummer of my brother's band, Citizen Dick, but the band eventually decided to part ways because my brother wanted to work on solo stuff for the moment. We were all still close and still lived next door.

When the band split up, Eddie asked if I wanted to be the second singer for his new band, Pearl Jam. I agreed. I was good at harmonizing and writing lyrics and he was good at creating melodies.

"Well we're up," he says after a few more minutes of warming up. I nodded in agreement as the crowd was practically deadly at this point. People occupied every open space. "Good luck," He says, pressing a hand to the small of my back. A chill crept up my spine at the contact.

I was wearing a short-cropped black wife beater that I has cut myself. His hand was touching my bare back. Skin on skin.

"Thanks, you too," I shot him a smile before we walked on stage. Matt, Stone, and Jeff were already on stage which caused the crowd to already be pumped up.

When they saw Eddie and me, screams erupted from everyone. I didn't like to admit it but when every music magazine says that the two of you are the definition of sex appeal it was hard to ignore that some of the fans in the crowd looked at you and Eddie with lust in their eyes.

There had been many times that rumors had been spread that Eddie and I had been dating or at least hooking up. Pictures had been taken, completely out of context in every way, where Eddie was hugging me around the waist. Granted his hands were a little low and my hands were curled into his hair but it was always in a platonic way. It was right after a concert where I'd completely screwed up multiple songs and I had a panic attack right after the show.

Maybe it didn't help that while we were performing we wrapped arms around each other but I think that's pretty understandable. Again, we have known each other for like twenty years.

The stage smelled like old weed and alcohol but it was something that I'd become accustomed to.

After Eddie introduced us, we kicked off the first song. Garden. I loved the mystery this song brings about. I let Eddie sing the first verse along and I joined in when the chorus hit, letting our voices crescendo which made the crowd scream and pump their hands in the air.

His voice went as deep as it could and I went as high as I comfortably could which made the contrast of our voices reverberate off the walls melodically.

The second and third songs did just as well and then we got to the last song.

We gave the cue to the band that was coming up after us to begin to set up as we started our song.

I would never admit to Eddie how his voice in "Go" makes me feel.

This was another song that I didn't sing until the chorus but it gave me time to appreciate his voice.

While he started singing, I walked to the edge. of the stage, letting eager hands claw at me. I didn't let them touch my legs but I crouched down and let them touch my hand.

A girl who looked as though she was crying with happiness passed me a white tee shirt with our logo printed on it. I took a sharpie out of my back pocket, biting the top of it off before scrawling my name on the cotton, leaving a small heart next to my name.

She screamed in hysterics when I passed it back to her.

"Suppose I abuse you, just passing it on," Eddie sang as he watched me interact with the crowd. I knew that as I crouched, my shorts rode up, showing even more of my legs than they already were. "Go," Eddie screamed with the band. "Fuck." This was just one part of the song that made me cave in on myself. His voice quivered when he sang that one-syllable word. It shouldn't make me think about what it would be like if the rumors were true If Eddie and I were in fact more than just partners.

I stood up, neglecting to adjust my shorts again. I pretended not to notice Eddie's eyes scan me.

I put a slight swing into my hip as I raised the mic. "Please," I sang, dragging out the syllable in a deprived way. "Don't go on me." Careful not to go too far for fear that my brother might be in the crowd somewhere, ready to jump Eddie, I stared up at the curly-haired boy. He took a hand and moved some of his long hair out his face, never missing a beat in the music.

After the guitar solo, Eddie sang a few more words until my next favorite part. I guess he caught on to the desperation that I'd put into my voice, no matter how fake it was.

"Please, please please," He sounded like he was practically begging at this point as he stepped closer to me. There was a thin line that we had always drawn in the sand and we both knew not to cross it. Eddie was getting dangerously close to that line.

It was just an act.

The rest of the song should have just been Eddie singing "Don't go on me" for the next couple of measures with me singing "Please" in the empty spaces.

That was until he decided to change up the lyrics.

"Don't go on me," He sang with a rasp in his voice. He took another step closer. Just an act.

"Please," I followed his lead but my heart fell when he placed a callosed hand in the space between my neck and shoulder. His fingers played with the small strands of hair that had fallen out of my bun.

"Don't you want me?" I opened my mouth, ready to sing my line again but I faltered. His blue eyes were boring into mine. Seriousness was written on his face.

He crossed the line.

It was no longer just an act.

He's changed the lyrics, insinuating that there is something unspoken between us. And the crowd believed it now. If the news articles didn't convince them, then something like this at a live show would.

Anger bubbled in my throat. I counted the seconds until the song was over for when I could grab Eddie and drag him off that stage.

When the guitars finally faded, the crowd erupted in cheers. I gave Eddie the moment to thank the crowd for coming and told them to make some noise for Alice in Chains.

I grabbed his wrist and yanked him as hard as I could. He stumbled as he followed me.

"Y/N what are you doing?" He asked but I didn't respond.

We walked until we heard the guitar and drums of Alice in Chains pick up with their song It Aint Like That.

I pulled him into a corner where there was no one around. The only sound was the distant beat of the music.

"What the hell was that?" I spat, pushing him back with the palms of my hands. His reaction made me angrier.

He let out a soft laugh. "You're making that face."

I scoffed before pulling in a sharp breath. "What face?" I seethed.

"That one you make when you're caught liking something you shouldn't."

"I don't make a face."

"You're doing it right now," He says, drawing a circle around my face with his finger. "The one where your mouth is slightly open and before you say anything you have to scoff or roll your eyes or something."

My face heats up as I shut my mouth, realizing that it was open at that moment.

"Well you're wrong," I counter. "I didn't like it. Would you have done it if Cliff were here?"

At the mention of my brother his face shifts. "Probably not but he's not-"

"No, he's not here. But you know who is? Our fans. News reporters. Photographers. They all post things that Cliff will see!"

"And what if he does?"

"Are you fucking serious? We both know Cliff would fucking kill us."

He shrugs, making a dramatic roll with his head. "And who cares?"

"You don't care what my brother thinks?" I cross my arms, leaning into my hip.

"No," He responds blankly. "I care what you think. What did you think, Y/N?" He steps forward.

I let out a snippy laugh. "I think you're a massive dick."

A smile curves the corner of his lips. His hand comes towards my face and his thumb pushes the bottom of my chin until my mouth closes again. I thank the dim lighting and black walls that conceal how bright my face is.

His hand doesn't leave my face. His fingers just move behind my neck like they did on stage. The very notion that pissed me off beyond belief.

"Cliff doesn't have to know."

The closer he gets to me, the more his fingers burn at my neck. He towers over me, his brown hair falling into his face as he scans my eyes for any hint of emotion.

I don't know what I feel.

Don't you want me?

The question he indirectly asked repeated in my head as he stared at me. I hadn't even realized that my back was now up against a wall and that his free hand was resting lazily on my waist.

"If Cliff finds out..." My voice trailed off as his grip on me tightened.

"Hmm?" He questioned softly.

I met his eyes and a confident surge forced me to flicker my glance to his lips. He took it as permission to close the seemingly neverending space between us. His rough lips found mine and I was sure I would've collapsed if he wasn't holding me up. I breathed heavily against him as his lips trailed to my neck.

"Fuck," I closed my eyes as he left a bruise on my neck. The vibration of the noises he made against my skin made me want to cry.

"Y/N? Ed?" A familiar voice of our drummer, Matt, was heard around the corner. I pushed Eddie off of me but it was too late. Matt saw. "Holy shit," He laughed. "I fucking knew it."

"You don't tell Cliff, understood?" I said with the strongest voice I could muster. He threw his arms up in defense.

"Got it, boss." He turned on his heels and he left the way he came.

I rubbed my eyes with my palms in embarrassment.

"Here," Eddie shrugged off his flannel and passed it to me. "Might want to cover that up," He nodded towards the bruise on my neck.

"Fucking hilarious, Vedder." I snatched it and flung it around my shoulders.

"I'll drive you home, come on." I followed the boy out the back doors of the bar to the apartment building.

[onegreybun]

Sour Snurbleberry Wine [Prompt 6, Halcyon]

(Halcyon: denoting a period of time in the past that was idyllically happy and peaceful.)

Anoitte,

His name isn't 'Marceau' any longer. You have to remember that it's 'Bashu'. I know, we've been calling him that forever, but just trust me when I say you have to make the change. I'm struggling with it too, but it really is important.

I have no problem with you hosting, as long as we can let everybody else know in time. I'd love to come see the new changes! And I hear you about the stress. Believe me, I've been saying the exact same thing to other people. Some might call me a hypocrite, I'm sure, but I just like to think of myself as a multi-layered individual. It sells better.

I just didn't really think it would ever be this way, you know? Don't get me wrong, I'm not a naive little valley princess. Never have been. I had a front row seat watching my own folks fall out of love and go their separate ways, so I get it. People drift, people break apart, that's what time does. But we were all so much happier in the fields than they ever were in their own house.

It wasn't perfect, of course. We never ran out of problems. But I do remember every Starlight we had together. And I remember when the seasons of hunt and game changed, and everyone would come to the hinterlands with that shift. We'd get a few wonderful months together without interruption. We'd drink that sour snurbleberry wine on the overlooks of New Sharlayan's walls, and when the sun went down we'd move to the boys' camp. Always had everyone sitting by the fire after we ate, gossiping about insignificant things that mattered more than anything else in the world.

I know those days are gone, but losing them has been the hardest thing I've ever had to face. I can't even imagine how hard it must have been for Bashu. And I believe him, Anoitte. Everything else he said would come to pass has happened down to the very hour. The years he says he's spent alone have been, honestly, the least outrageous claim he's made.

I don't remember dying, but I believe that I did. What I do actually remember is looking up from the ground and seeing his eyes. It didn't matter that his hair was grey instead of black, it didn't matter how thin he was or how many more lines he had in his face, it just took one look into his eyes and I knew it was him.

I remember the crying, I remember the hope and joy he had then, and I remember seeing the emptiness after we turned away. We were angry at the world, and we had every right to be that way, but we didn't have the right to take it out on him. Is it any wonder he left? How would that make you feel? Bringing the people you loved back into the world after all those years of loss, only to lose them all over again? Would you not leave? Would you not want to run away?

But we're not dead this time. And that means it's not over. Bashu didn't give up on our lives, and I can't give up on his. I don't care what fresh, crazy hell he's diving towards, I'm following him into it. I drank the wine with you just as deeply as I did with him. He is still part of my family.

Although, I will admit, just trying to get the man to take a day off to start talking things through is like trying to cut my tongue out. Painful, slow, and all I want to do is scream about it. Maybe that's what I'll do tonight.

Be well and I'll see you for dinner,

Viv

[foreveralwaysanauthor]

Scattered Screams (Part 2/12)

January 5, 2023

Kiss your loved ones goodbye for you may never see them again.

I had been in the meeting room once before - for Mick. Sadly, it hadn’t changed in the year since I had been there. Unlike most other districts, District 3 is known for being clean and sterile so potential germs and dust can’t ruin the tech we work with. Our homes, on the other hand, aren’t usually held to that standard; we would prefer comfort over cleanliness any day. It seems as though whoever designed the meeting rooms didn’t get that memo. The room is a cold white with accents of gray and silver here and there. One wall is a mirror that I suppose is there to make the room feel larger, but it only makes me feel more enclosed. The furniture in the room is minimal and plain; the chairs and couch are rigid and have very thin cushions, giving them an uncomfortable appearance that makes me feel like even the floor would be more comfortable.

There are no decorations on the walls - or any windows, for that matter - and, despite being practically untouched apart from meeting times every year, the room is free of dust. It smells of bleach and citrus - an awful combination that reeks of sterility. While it reminds me of the chemicals we use to clean the lab every night, the smell combined with the white, cold aesthetic the room possesses almost makes it feel like a hospital room, but far less comforting. Honestly, I probably would have preferred to be sitting in a hospital instead.

Despite wanting to see my family before leaving, I want nothing more than to leave the room and conduct our meetings somewhere else. I find a semi-comfortable spot on the couch while I wait for everyone to come, but the couch is stiff and it doesn't take long for me to move. Resorting to pacing the floor, I find myself feeling claustrophobic in the windowless box of a room. Thankfully, only a few minutes go by before the door opens and my first visitors are allowed in.

Unsurprisingly, my family is the first. My parents look furious, but it’s evident that they’ve been crying. Oliver and Abigail are quick to hug me, but Abby is too busy firing off questions and answering them herself to let Olly talk. “Are you scared?” she asks as she pulls away. “You don’t look it. Did you think this would happen?” I open my mouth to answer and she cuts me off, “I mean, you asked me not to volunteer, so I guess you must have. Is that why you asked me to not volunteer?”

This time, Oliver reaches over and covers her mouth before speaking, “Are you going to let her answer you, or are you just going to keep answering your own questions?”

Abby says a muffled apology and I offer everyone the chance to sit before quietly explaining, “Mick’s parents thought the reaping might be rigged after the stunt they pulled, but they said they would try to find a way to keep me out of it. I guess it didn’t work.”

“Why didn’t you say anything to us?” Mom asks. 

“I only found out last night,” I sigh. “If I thought there was any way around it, I would’ve said something.”

My family sits in silence, taking in what I’ve said. It takes a while, but eventually, my dad sends me a small smile and says, “You seem to be handling this better than the rest of us are.”

A chuckle comes out as I agree, “Yeah, well, I guess I’ve had a bit more time to accept that this could happen.” I smile and say, “Somewhere deep down, I’m terrified. But I know that I have Riven on my side and he’s not afraid to beat up people who come near his friends. We also have two amazing mentors who can get us some great sponsors, so I’m not too worried.”

Oliver’s head falls onto my shoulder as he hugs me from the side. “What about Mick?” he asks softly. “What do we tell her?”

“I’m sure she already knows,” I sigh. After thinking for a moment, I add, “Wait a day or two for the Peacekeepers to leave before you go talk to her. That gives her time to calm down and process things. Ask her if she needs anything - food, water, someone to stay with her, things like that.”

Abby is quick to offer, “I could stay with her.”

“Or she could stay with us,” Mom offers, sharing a look with Dad who nods in agreement. “That way, nobody would question why an empty house in Victor’s Village has the lights on.”

It’s a good idea. Maybe she’ll decide to take my room. Mick is a sentimental sap, she’d probably blather on about how lovely it is to feel so close to me despite being physically far apart. “That’s smart,” I say with a nod. Taking my siblings' hands, I find myself commanding their attention as I say, “When she feels up to it, ask her to train you the way she trained me. It’s never too soon to start and you already have some experience. She’ll like that.”

“What if she doesn’t want to train us?” Oliver asks.

I shrug, “Then I’ll do it if I come back.”

“You’ll come back, Viv,” Dad says, almost as though he’s reassuring himself, not me. “You’re strong, smart, and fast. Your chances are high.”

As much as I want to believe him, I can’t bring myself to. The tributes from the Career districts are almost always bigger, stronger, and have years of training experience under their belts. I have an advantage when it comes to stealth and speed from years of running competitively in school and playing hide and seek with my siblings, but my strength lies in my knowledge, not my muscles. If it comes down to a fistfight, I have a little under a year of training and a slim chance of winning. However, to appease everyone in the room and not show them how I truly feel, I smile and say, “I’ll do my best to make it home.”

There’s nothing more to say as a Peacekeeper opens the door, telling us to wrap it up. My parents look distraught as we stand from our seats, but it’s Abby who grips me first, her arms tight around my ribcage and her boney chin digging into my shoulder. She’s not the overly affectionate type, preferring to give little, handmade gifts than spend five minutes cuddling on the couch, so her embrace surprises me. Oliver soon follows, taking my free side and bringing his arms around my shoulder and Abby’s back. Our parents bring us in, trapping us between them briefly before we are forced to separate. Before leaving, my mom and dad bring me into a final hug and press a kiss on either side of my head.

“We’ll see you as soon as you step off the train, pumpkin,” Dad assures me, running a hand over my hair as he steps away. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” I say in return as he follows my siblings out of the room, leaving me with Mom.

Mom pulls her necklace from around her neck and latches it around mine. It has her and dad’s wedding rings dangling from it and the chain is on the thicker side, but I still worry about it breaking if I’m to wear it in the arena. Mom smiles, pulls me close, and says, “Take a weapon you’re good with in training, hoard food if you can, and make people like you before the Games begin. Find a way to come home to us.”

“I won’t let you down,” I mutter over her shoulder before she pulls back. 

“You could never let me down,” she claims as she takes my face in her hands. “Just know that I love you and, regardless of what happens in the arena, that will never change.”

For the first time in a long time, I have to force myself to hold back tears. I swallow thickly and smile at my mom before saying, “I love you too.” 

Mom takes my hand and squeezes it tightly before walking out of the room. Just like that, I’m alone again. I don’t have much time to be alone with my thoughts as my teammates from work come in. They’re a group you’d never see together if it weren’t for work uniting them. Mac lives in what we call the Dead Zone since there is practically no service out there and hardly anyone lives there. Acer looks like a Capitol citizen with his unnaturally red hair and expensive clothing, but his mom was a hair stylist from the Capitol who fell in love with a citizen from District 3 during a vacation, so that makes him half a citizen of the Capitol and intelligible for the Games. Della, my apprentice, is wheelchair-bound due to a condition she was born with, but that doesn’t stop her from being one of the best workers on our team. 

Acer is younger than me by two days, which I jokingly hold over his head every chance I get, but for some reason, he doesn’t want to joke around today. Mac is the same age as Riven, but with six siblings to take care of, I’m not surprised when the first thing out of his mouth is an apology for not volunteering. Della’s normally calm expression is gone, replaced with a rage I had only ever seen directed at her computer when something doesn’t compute properly, but she manages a small smile as she gives me a box of sweets that her mom made. Her family gives something nice to every tribute, but it still feels like something special.

“Don’t worry about the lab while you’re gone,” Mac assures, as he helps Della lock her wheels in place. “Riven told us where he left his and Mick’s notes on how to run everything.”

I find myself nodding almost robotically. “That’s good. I’m sor-”

“Don’t you dare finish that sentence,” Della commands, her dark brown, almost black, eyes pointing daggers my way. “You have no control over this shit.”

A voice on the other side of the door, presumably that of Della’s mother, squawks, “Della Pearl!”

Della’s eyes widen before she rolls them and replies, “Sorry, Amma!”

For the first time since he entered the room, Acer cracks a smile as he nudges the younger girl. “Next time, whisper.”

Mac smacks the back of Acer’s head, earning him a shocked glare from the redhead. Before the two of them can get into it, I let out a chuckle and shake my head, “I’m going to miss you guys.”

Their visit doesn’t last long, but I give them instructions on how to operate my computer and lab equipment and tell them how to find my stash of hidden snacks. Our time is up before I know it and our goodbyes are quick. Della’s mother peers into the room as she takes hold of Della’s wheelchair, waving goodbye to me and wishing me good luck as the door closes. I hear Mac and Acer try to help Della out as her mom tells her off in the hall, but it isn’t long before their voices fade into nothingness. 

I doubt anybody else will come to visit me. My family and friends from work have come and gone. Della’s mom, one of the best bakers in the district, doesn’t visit since she had her daughter deliver the goods she would normally give the tributes. I don’t have a lot of friends since most of my time is spent in the lab or at home. The only other people who would probably visit me are Mick and her parents, but Mick can’t see me because of the numerous Peacekeepers that came from the Capitol during the night, and her parents are my mentors - I’ll see them on the train.

To my surprise, though, the door opens once more and Bissette Cabel, the mayor’s daughter, steps in. She smirks at my look of confusion and sits on the far end of the couch, facing me. Her almost white blonde hair is slicked back in a neat bun at the crown of her skull and her red, velvet dress stands out against the white furniture like a drop of blood in the snow. Bissette and I have rarely spoken due to her being selectively mute, but we’ve spent enough time together to consider ourselves friends. She and her father visited us after Mick’s death in last year’s Hunger Games was announced and she spent a few hours sitting with me, listening to me ramble and offering whatever comfort she could. Since her father told her, Bissette is one of the few people who know that Mick is alive.

Bissette takes my hand and shakes her head as she softly tells me, “It was rigged.”

“I was warned it might be,” I say with a nod.

“Sorry,” she says.

“Don’t be,” I tell her, hoping my small smile is enough to reassure her that I’m fine. “You couldn’t do anything.”

This time, her icy blue eyes find mine and she takes on a serious tone, “I could have volunteered.”

As true as her statement is, I couldn’t imagine Bissette volunteering. It wouldn’t be the first time a mayor’s child entered the Games, but where she has no formal training, no connection to any previously reaped tributes, and the social skills of a flea, her chances of winning the Games would be slim to none. At least I had a mild chance. Ultimately, I decide to say, “I wouldn’t have wanted you to.”

She shrugs and looks away, but the lingering thought that she wanted to volunteer is enough for me. Bissette’s gaze returns to mine as she speaks, “What do I say?” She’s being careful with her words, knowing the Peacekeepers are outside, possibly listening through the thin walls. Her tentative nod to the bracelet on my wrist that Mick had worn in the arena and the faintest raise of her eyebrow tell me exactly what words cannot. What does she say to Mick when she visits her later on?

“Whatever you think is best,” I offer with a shrug. “I’m sure there will be a lot of emotions to sift through, but I’m sure your presence will be enough.”

Bissette nods hesitantly. The idea of going up to a person who had been in the arena and trying to comfort them must be a scary thought, especially for someone who hardly ever spoke to anyone at all. “I’ll try my best,” she says finally as she pushes herself off the couch.

I follow in standing as she reaches up and pulls one of the bejeweled sticks from her bun. She eyes me for a moment before stepping onto one of the couch cushions and directing me to turn with my back to her. Her fingers are cold and quick as she takes the top section of my hair, twists it around the stick, and tucks it into a small knot, leaving the rest of my hair around my shoulders. When I turn to face her again, she’s smiling down at me. Bissette leans down, locks her arms around my shoulders, and sways me side-to-side before stepping down from the couch. 

She gives a solitary nod and says, “It suits you.”

We both know that I won’t be able to wear it in the Games as it can be considered a weapon, but there’s a chance I could wear it for the parade or my interview with Caesar Flickerman. Bissette doesn’t seem to care what I do with it, just so long as I have it. I’ll keep it with me for as long as I can. Maybe, before the Games, I could give it to Mick’s parents for safekeeping. When the Peacekeeper tells her that time is up, Bissette nods once and turns to me, presses a quick kiss to my cheek, and whispers, “Give ‘em hell, Viv.”

I give her a final nod and watch her leave the room, the door sliding shut behind her. I’m left alone for a few minutes, but soon the door opens and I’m brought back into the hall. Riven greets me and we are paraded through the hallways until we reach the fire exit at the back of the building. The sun scalds my eyes as we step outside and Riven has to walk me to the car that’s waiting for us as I’m too busy rubbing my eyes behind my glasses. Riven allows me to get into the car before him and, on the way to the train station, he begins telling me about who all visited him.

“The three dipshits came over while your parents saw you,” he says with a shake of his head, “They came in all guns blazing, going off about how the reaping was rigged until I told them to just sit and talk with me like nothing was going on.”

“Did that work?” I ask, knowing full well how they acted when they were with me.

“Not really,” Riven chuckles. “That half-pint of yours looked ready to rip someone’s head off, but they toned it down a bit.”

I find myself smiling at the thought. “I saw Bissette,” I told him after a brief silence. At his questioning look, I point at my hair and add, “She gave me one of her fancy hair sticks and said to do our best.”

Riven hums, “I’m surprised she said anything. She’s always been quiet as a church mouse.”

We talk for a while about the people who came to see us, but it doesn’t take long before the car is pulling to a stop under the concrete dome that protects the underground train station. I’ve been to the station a few times to help load up deliveries for Districts 5 and 6, but I’ve never been a passenger. We can’t see the trains from the parking zone, we’ll have to go down the long ramp into the underground tunnel where the trains arrive. The lights down there are bright like LED strips and change color depending on circumstance and what district the train is heading for. Usually, a large sign hanging from the ceiling tells us exactly where the train is heading and when it will be leaving just in case someone is colorblind and can’t tell, but most people just rely on the light system. For instance, red or green lights signify incoming and outgoing trains respectively. I had only ever seen the train heading for Districts 5 and 6, turning the color of the lights orange and pale yellow respectively, but this time, the lights are gold for the Capitol and they pulse in and out like a heartbeat. I had never seen it like that before.

When we reach the train, we’re directed to stand and smile for the cameras, letting random photographers take as many pictures of us as they want. Riven keeps his arm around my shoulders as we wait for them to finish, but he makes it a point to quietly crack jokes in my ear so the photographers get genuine smiles and laughter out of both of us. Eventually, we’re allowed inside the train where we find Mick’s parents, Mack and Brady, already waiting. Mack is quick to pull me into a hug, apologizing over and over for not being able to keep me out of the Games, but I assure her that I’ve come to terms with it already. “You shouldn’t have to come to terms with anything, Vivien,” she tells me in a hushed voice, brushing strands of hair from my face as she holds me close. “We thought we had it handled.”

“‘Handled’?” Riven asks.

I feel Mrs. Birch stiffen, almost as though she’d been caught with her hand in the cookie jar. Moving away from her just enough for her to see me, I assure her, “It’s alright. He’s a good guy.”

Riven eyes us curiously before asking, “Is this about the reaping being rigged?”

“Do you think it was?” Brady questions.

“Hell yeah,” is Riven’s response. He shakes his head and huffs, “There’s no way they’d reap a pair of siblings unless that family put in for a shitload of tesserae. Viv only had - what? Three or four entries at most? No way it wasn’t rigged.”

Mack slowly nods, releasing me from her grasp and taking her husband’s hand. “We should tell them.”

He nods, sharing a small smile with his wife before gesturing for us to follow them. They lead us into the living room area of the train which far contrasts that of the meeting room I’d been in earlier. The couches are plush and I could find myself crashing on them easily - to hell with the bed that I was supposed to stay in. Decorations, paintings, and bowls of fruit made the place feel like what I assumed the mayor’s house would be like on the inside. Even Mayor Cabel and his family couldn’t ride the train anywhere, though, so I knew this had to either be some kind of Hunger-Games-only type of thing or something for Capitol people to use for fun. Heh… Whoever could afford to ride on this train for fun must’ve been some kind of ultra-rich snob.

Once we’re seated, Mr. Birch begins, “We had a feeling that, after last year’s Games, the Capitol would try to pull something with the reaping.”

“Why?” Riven asks. 

I know why. If the Capitol felt outwitted by three teenagers - technically two teens and one twelve-year-old - they would do anything to take that power back again. What better way than to go back over the previous year’s reaping and reap the people who had been volunteered for? They wanted it to hurt Mick and Miles in case they were still alive, hiding out somewhere. I have to wonder if Miles’ younger brothers were alright. I had spoken to them numerous times after Mick returned to District 3. In a way, I suppose I consider them my friends. It’s only natural that I’m worried about them.

Mack replies, “The Capitol is full of grown men and women who have superiority complexes. They were outsmarted by a twelve-year-old who liked to hide in air ducts.”

“Why does that affect our district?” Riven asks. “The kid was from Six.”

“She and the guy she went into the arena with teamed up with Mick,” I answered. “If the Capitol had even the slightest notion that something could have been planned between the three of them, that puts a target on both Six and Three.”

Riven nods slowly, taking in the information before sighing, “Makes sense, I guess. Did they do anything to the people from Six?”

Mick’s parents shrug and tell us that they aren’t sure, but they say nothing more as the train door opens, letting Halo in before sliding shut again. “Oh, good,” Halo says cheerfully, dropping her luggage to the floor, “you’re already here.”

Before anyone can say anything, the bullet train pulls out of the station, sending the unsuspecting escort to the floor with her luggage. I try my best not to laugh as the precariously pinned wig on Halo’s head slides to the carpet in a golden lump, but one look in Riven’s direction has me coughing to hide my snickers. On the other hand, my auburn-haired companion lets his laughter be known as soon as our gazes meet. By the time we’ve pulled ourselves together, Halo has taken her shoes off and made it to her feet again, hastily adjusting her wig as they send a disapproving look in our direction.

“I’m sorry,” I apologize, trying my hardest not to let out a laugh of any kind.

Riven shakes his head with a snort, “I’m not! That was fucking funny.”

“Well, I’m glad someone thinks so,” Halo huffs, stepping into the living area and dropping into the nearest seat available. I send a swift kick to Riven’s shin under the table, giving him a pleading look when he glares my way. His apology to Halo is half-hearted and meaningless, but she accepts it all the same. Almost instantly, our escort straightens in her chair, tossing glittering strands of hair over her shoulder with a proud smile. “You two should take some time to explore your quarters before we watch the other reapings. Get comfortable, relax a bit.”

I turn to Riven and shrug at his questioning glance. We stand and allow our mentors to show us down the hall. Riven’s room is the first one we come to and he’s quick to flop onto his mattress, muttering about his wildest dreams. When I teasingly ask him if he’s enjoying himself, Riven flips me the bird, something I’m quite used to seeing from him. Ultimately, Mick’s parents tell me to leave Riven to his own devices and I’m brought into another compartment that’s just for me. The room looks just like Riven’s, only mirrored. The only thing that remains the same is the bed in the center of the back wall. Off of the bedroom are two doors, one leading to a rather extravagant bathroom and the other a dressing room full of clothes and a vanity full of makeup and hair tools, some of which I had only ever seen during my sleepovers at the Birch family’s house in Victors' Village. 

Instead of leaving me to explore, Mick’s parents ask if they could talk with me and, once I agree, they take a seat on the end of the bed I’m supposed to sleep on during our journey. “We thought we had the reaping handled,” Mr. Birch tells me, his apology silent, but noticeable. “We had talked it over with the people in charge of the reaping and your papers were supposed to be set aside.”

“It doesn’t really matter now,” I reply as I take a seat on a small, fluffy ottoman. “We had a feeling something like this could happen and it did. Now, I just have to try to make it out alive.”

Mick’s mom takes my hand in hers and squeezes it. “We’ll find a way to get you out of the arena.”

Without a second thought, I shake my head. “If you pull something like last year’s stunt, they’ll take it out on my siblings next year since they’re not safe from the reaping. I need to make it out alive, without any meddling. If I don’t, the twins will be in the line of fire.”

The couple finds each other’s eyes and seems to come to an agreement without saying a word. Mick’s dad turns to me and smiles as he says, “We thought you might say something like that.”

“You did?” I ask.

Mrs. Birch nods. “You’re selfless when it comes to those you love. While we waited for the two of you to get to the train, Brady and I came up with some ideas for your story.”

My confusion must be evident as Brady adds, “For the interviews and, perhaps, even for the Games themselves.”

I sigh, “Can’t I just play the distraught oldest sibling? It’s not technically a lie.”

“That was Miles’ shtick last year,” Mick’s mom claims. “You need something original.”

“We had thought of the friends-turned-lovers thing with you and Riven,” Mr. Birch states, but my disgusted expression must have told him the ‘Fuck no,’ that I desperately wanted to say. He chuckles, “It was quickly dismissed after we saw you two joking around outside the train. Besides, with him being eighteen, it wouldn't have made the Capitol too happy.”

While I felt a wave of relief crash over me, the idea that I would still have to play up some made-up storyline for the cameras was… concerning to say the least. Even though I preferred to stay honest, sometimes brutally so, I could lie when needed, but I was awful at hiding my expressions. Ask anyone. Whatever idea they wanted me to work with, it needed to be good. Hesitantly, I ask, “What did you decide on?”

With a heavy sigh, Mrs. Birch shakes her head and says, “Sadly, we haven’t. It won’t be as easy as telling Mick to play up the ‘victor’s child’ routine.”

Mick’s dad nods as he adds, “You need a storyline that will make people love you and make them want you to stay alive in the arena.”

Oh, is that all? I can barely make people like me back in District 3, how am I supposed to make the snobby people of the Capitol like me? “How, exactly, am I supposed to do that?”

“We’ll find a way,” Mick’s mom says with a smile that, for some reason, actually feels comforting. Before I can question either of them, they stand from the bed and head for the door. “For now, get washed up, relax, and we’ll let you know when it’s time to eat, alright?”

All I can manage is a hum and a nod before they open the door and slide it shut once they're outside. After some contemplation, I find myself sitting in the little dressing room, playing with makeup I never knew existed. I don’t want to think about all of the work I’ll have to put into making a good appearance for the Capitol. It’s going to take a lot more than the few days of training that I have to make me seem like anything more than the geeky lab technician that I am, but regardless of what Mick’s parents decide on, I’m willing to try.

I play around with the makeup, using what little I know from Mick’s teachings to put different creams and powders on my face without looking like something that my siblings would bring home from art class in kindergarten. Eventually, the makeup is washed away after just a few minutes in the shower. The water sears my skin, but it’s relaxing in a twisted sort of way. It’s almost like the calm before the storm, I guess. In the morning, we’ll arrive at the Remake Center. Despite the heat and steam that surround me, I shiver at the thought. I can feel it coming in the distance - being stripped naked in front of complete strangers, my hair being pulled from every follicle the prep team can find, someone intensely scrubbing until my skin turns red, the atrocious parade costume I’ll be either glued or shoved into, and the high-heeled shoes I’ll be lucky if I can stand in. Mick told me it was torture, regardless of how graceful she made it look.

Once I’m out of the shower and dressed in some silky pajamas that I find in the dressing room, I find myself staring at my reflection in what could possibly be the largest mirror I’ve ever seen. Even without the Capitol’s influence, I feel as though I don’t look like myself. The long, flowy hair that looks surprisingly frizz-less, the soft skin that feels nothing like my own, and the silk pajamas that I’ll probably regret wearing when I begin sliding around in the huge bed I’m supposed to stay in. The only thing that keeps me feeling like myself is my glasses. Mick’s gift sits atop the bridge of my nose, the purple frames shimmering in the fluorescent lights that encase the mirror. I only took them off to shower since I never brought the case with me. Seeing them on my face is nice - almost like I have a piece of Mick with me. I grin at my reflection for a moment before sighing and reaching for the light switch.

“Don’t turn the light off,” I hear a girl’s voice say in my ear. 

Looking behind me through the mirror, I find nobody has entered the room. Pulling the door to the bedroom open, I find nobody there either. Seeing that I’m alone, I press a hand to my forehead and mutter, “I’m losing my mind.”

“You’re not going crazy, Viv,” the voice says. “Try not to react, but listen to my voice. You know who I am.” As much as I hate to admit it, it takes me a while to register who it is, but when it does, my eyes widen. I would know her voice anywhere. “There it is,” Mick chuckles. 

“H-How is this-?”

“I can see through the star rivets on your glasses,” she explains. “You hear me through the pieces behind your ears. I worked on those glasses for months, but I didn’t want to use them unless I thought it was necessary.”

“You didn’t watch me take a shower, did you?” I ask in a whisper.

Mick snorts, “Of course not. I watched everything from the reaping until you headed for the bathroom. After that, nothing. I just had the audio on.”

She probably heard my shitty renditions of the songs I’d had stuck in my head while I was washing up. I’m not overly embarrassed at the idea since it’s not like she hadn’t heard my awful singing at least a million times during our sleepovers or at work. I nod and ask, “What happens now?”

I hear Mick sigh as she says, “For now, try to relax. Eat with my parents and Riven, watch the other reapings, and get as much sleep as you can. I’ll be with you through it all and I’m here if you need me.”

It isn’t hard for a smile to work its way onto my face. Mick is probably in the basement or her bedroom, watching me through one of the many monitors her family owns, but I can’t see her the same way. “I wish I could see you. I never got to say goodbye.”

“You’re not saying goodbye,” she declares firmly. “You’re going to get out of the arena one way or another.”

“Alive or in a bodybag?” I offer jokingly.

I can almost picture Mick’s exasperated look as she firmly says, “Vivien, I’m serious.”

“So am I,” I argue lightly. “Those are my options. There are no escape routes this time. I either make it out of the arena as a victor or I leave it by hovercraft and get delivered to District Three in a body bag.”

“It won’t come to that,” she says. I almost find myself believing her. “We’ll get you out before it ever comes to that.”

I open my mouth to say something, but am interrupted by a voice calling from the door leading out of my quarters, “Vivien?” It’s Mick’s dad. “Time to eat, honey.”

“Be right out, Mr. Birch,” I call in return.

Mick snorts, “You can call him Brady, you know. He’s not going to tear your head off.” I’m quick to shake my head and refuse her suggestion. I could never call either of her parents by their first names. At least not to their faces. It just felt wrong. “Suit yourself. Remember, if I say anything to you, act normal. They don’t need to know just yet.”

I nod to my reflection and say a simple, “Talk to you later, then,” before heading out of the bathroom. The trip down to the dining compartment is quick and quiet with no chat from Mick, but she makes her presence known when she laughs as my silk pants cause me to nearly slide out of the chair I perch myself in. Eventually, the table-wide giggle session ends and I sit cross-legged in the chair as the food is brought out for us. Since I’m fairly used to having meals with Mick’s family and the people at work, chatter comes naturally between the four of us, but Halo doesn’t seem to mind being left out of it. To my surprise, she watches on with a smile and eats her food in silence until she feels the need to speak.

With all the talk distracting us, the meal passes by quickly. To everyone’s dismay, the time to watch the other reapings comes as soon as the plates and trays of food are taken away. Halo guides us to another compartment where we’ll watch the reruns. Along the way, Mick tells me to focus on our “friendship districts” more than anything, so I make a mental note to watch for our import and export districts - 5 and 6. Every district has at least one other that they trade vital things with. District 5 sends us supply lists and schematics for new upgrades they’re working on so that we can help with the coding and building of, well, whatever it is that they need. District 6, however, is not only closer to us geographically, but also socially, in a way. We send them tech for the vehicles they make and, in return, they give us vehicles for public use such as trolleys and buses for the further reaches of the district so the people living there can get places easier. Regardless of how we treat each other in the Games, Districts 5 and 6 have always been somewhat friendly with us and vice versa.

District 1 has two volunteers - a boy who looks ready to tear people's throats out with his teeth and a girl named Jade with dark green hair and an arrogant smirk on her face. The next district, to no surprise, has two volunteers who, if Halo’s words are correct, are both named after a type of stone. Our district’s reaping is nothing to watch a second time if you ask me, but the commentators are quick to fawn over the hug I share with Oliver. One of them is particularly upset when Riven volunteers, but their opinion quickly changes when Riven hugs me and we turn to the crowd with bright smiles. Mick’s parents are quick to compliment Riven’s actions and Mick echoes a similar notion, telling me that it makes both of us look good as a team already. The commentators spout off about our incredible love for our district for a while before the reaping switches over to District 4. 

The last of the Career districts reaps a dipshit who nearly stumbles off the stage in what even the commentators assume is a drunken stupor and a redheaded chick who, despite being my age, volunteers for a tall, muscular girl who could’ve easily broken the redhead’s twiggy body in half. District 5 reaps a pair that seem ready for whatever the Games throw their way - sixteen-year-olds Volt and Elektra. Their thick, coily hair and similarly pointed noses make the tributes look almost like siblings, but their last names determine they aren’t related in any way. We all seem to agree that they’re too cocky for our tastes.

District 6 comes on screen soon after, reaping a girl named Lotus Cooper and a boy I actually recognize - Royce Murphy. His older brother had been in the Games with Mick last year and, to my knowledge, his younger brother was still alive and eligible for the reaping. Royce says something to a blonde boy who refuses to let go of him - presumably his younger brother - and takes to the stage like a man on a mission. He was certainly… something. He has curly brown hair that, unlike my little sister’s, seemed well taken care of, a pair of intense, caramel eyes that seemed to tell everyone exactly what he was thinking, and a certain air about him that just oozed hatred for the Hunger Games and all of the people supporting it. 

Needless to say, I like him already. It doesn’t hurt that he is fairly attractive as well. He could probably get a lot of sponsors just on looks alone. I suppose it helps that he is close with the victors who are now his mentors. The group of victors on the stage look horrified at the prospect of him being reaped and they cut the cameras from the trio of angry victors before they get the chance to show how they really feel. The commentators are quick to mention how both Royce and I had been reaped before, but have no volunteers to help us this year. They seem to like that a lot. I suppose they aren’t wrong; it seems like the two of us have a lot in common. We both have connections to our mentors, we both have a certain level of contempt for the Capitol, and we both have been reaped before. It doesn’t take much for Mick’s parents to bring up the idea of befriending him. 

Riven shrugs when I ask him what he thinks of the idea. “It’s up to you, Pip. I’m just tagging along for the ride.”

He seems so nonchalant about the whole thing, something I could never achieve. Glancing at the screen, I eye the potential ally for a moment before slowly nodding. “It could work.”

“Good,” Mrs. Birch says with an almost relieved smile. “We’ll talk it over with his mentors, then.”

As I relax back into the couch cushions and the program moves onto District 7, Mick tells me, “If he’s anything like his brother, Royce will be a great teammate for you. The Capitol loved our enemies-to-friends storyline in the Games, so I’m sure that, whatever you come up with, will be just as entertaining for them.”

I chuckle softly, attempting to appear interested in the commentators' spiels, but I wasn’t paying much attention to it at all. As the reapings go on, only a few tributes stand out, but none of them seem to grab our attention as much as the boy from 6. 

Once the show is over and the anthem is done playing, Halo rises from the couch, turns to Mick’s parents, and asks, “It seems as though we have good odds this year, wouldn’t you agree?”

They nod, but it’s Brady who says, “It does seem that way.” 

Mack smiles as she speaks, “They’re certainly better than last year.”

Halo claps her hands together with a beaming smile and takes one of mine and Riven’s hands, staring at us with wide, excited eyes. “One of you could be the tribute to bring a victory back to District Three; isn’t that exciting?”

“Exhilarating,” Riven comments with a smirk.

“Thrilling,” I say, attempting a proud smile.

Halo lets out a high-pitched squeal before dropping our hands and scurrying off, declaring she was heading off to her room to prepare for tomorrow. As soon as the compartment door is closed behind her, a collective sigh passes through the room. Her optimism was welcoming, but it was exhausting to spend much time with her and the unrelenting perkiness she emanated. Eventually, Mick’s parents wish us a good night and head for their rooms, Riven and I following not long after. Instead of stopping at his quarters, Riven walks me to mine. 

Before heading into my room, I turn to Riven and ask, “What did you mean earlier?” At his confused expression, I elaborate, “About ‘only tagging along for the ride.’”

He shrugs, an everpresent grin on his face as he says, “I’m only here to help you get as far in the Games as I can. You can choose what you want to do, whoever you want to team up with, who you want me to hurt; it doesn’t matter. As long as you’re safe, everything is fine by me.”

His answer bothers me. There’s a certain loyalty in his words, a determination in his tone, and an eerie calm in his eyes that just doesn’t sit right. Riven could win the Games if he put his heart into it. Our friendship has always been strong, unwavering, almost sibling-like, but I figured with all of that, he wouldn’t want us to stay close in the arena. “Why? Don’t you want to win?”

Riven leans against the wall and shakes his head, “Not really. I don’t want the Capitol’s cameras up my ass for the rest of my life.”

My stomach churns at the idea of him dying in the arena. He wasn’t normally the type of person to give up easily. Why was he allowing defeat now, of all times? “Don’t you want to go home?”

Riven’s answer is simple, but heartwrenching all the same, “You have two little siblings who need you, your parents need you, and Mick needs someone to keep her mentally stable in that damp-ass basement of hers, but I have no biological family left to need me around. Besides, the rest of the team can manage if they have at least one of us there still.”

“I don’t understand.” At least, I hope I’m misunderstanding his words.

“I have no real reason to go back home,” Riven claims as though it’s plain to see, “but you do. You have people who need you back in Three, I don’t. Nobody needs me enough for me to be worried about dying in the Games. There aren’t a lot of people in my life who would miss me if I died.”

“I would.”

Riven smiles and places a hand on my shoulder. “I know you would - you and the team. You guys are the closest thing I have to a family. It’s because you’re like my family that I’m doing this. I’m protecting my sister.”

I had spent countless hours training with Riven in the lab, learning his coding methods and trying to get to his level of intellect. Over time, our little group had become the only family Riven knew. My parents had invited him over for meals many times since I started working with him. He was a part of my family now. My eyes burn at the thought of him being so ready to throw away his life in the arena, especially if he was only doing it for me. 

As though he senses my rising emotions, Riven reaches up and flicks my forehead the way he would if I was too wrapped up in work to hear what someone had said. “No tears, Pip.”

“But-”

“No ‘but’s,” he interrupts with a grin. “This is just what family does.” Riven wraps an arm around my shoulders and pulls me to him briefly before letting go. His smile gives me no room to argue and I’m left with so much I want to say, but can’t. Instead of arguing with him and forcing him to listen to what I had to say - a fruitless effort - I wish him a good night and quietly enter my room, his words still echoing in my head. Mick tries to comfort me once I’m alone, but I end up telling her I was tired and taking the glasses off to let myself process things. Staring at the intricate patterns on the ceiling above my bed and trying my best not to cry at the idea of losing one of my best friends is difficult, but his words repeat over and over in my mind. Many people from other districts wouldn’t sacrifice themselves for others, sometimes not even their family members. But, like Riven said, this is just what family does… right?

[sextoymall]

It happened on Christmas break. Marisa and I had decided to stay on campus rather than travel back home. Marisa and I had been dating for two years and while at first the sex was off the hook freaky it had settled down into to a very routine and almost mechanical sort of thing. We both still treasured our relationship so neither one of us ever said anything to the other about how our sex life had devolved into the same old same old.

I live in a frat house with a roommate Dave. He, myself, and my girlfriend were all juniors. We partied together and had a good time with each other on a regular basis. I never noticed any attraction between the two of them so I never worried. Since class was out of session during Christmas break we didn’t have anything to do. Most of our friends were off campus and home with their families. We finally found a group of folks that stayed behind. There were just 15 of us, but we decided to live it up and we all got really drunk at an off campus apartment.

My girlfriend and I decided to head back to the frat house as the evening was winding down, and we wanted to knock boots. We got back to my room and began to have sex. She sucked my cock until I came into her mouth. I ate her pussy until she came and then we fucked until I came. I don’t know if she came from the fucking or not. In other words we did the same old same old and afterwards we both fell asleep.

My roommate, Dave, is on the football team and we are best friends. He is a big guy and a very bulky he has the typical build of a football player that plays on the defensive line. I am more of a basketball player type so I am in shape and tall, but not as bulky.

As we are sleeping my roommate comes in. I wake up, but my girlfriend does not. He is drunk and I am still a little buzzed. He puts his stuff down and heads out of the room to party some more or so I thought. My girlfriend wasn’t awake or so I thought, but five minutes later she gets up and tells me she has to go the bathroom, so I roll over and try to fall back asleep.

I hear the shower running and voices coming from the bathroom which is just behind the paper thin wall my bed is up against. It is my girlfriend and my roommate. I am still buzzed and don’t get up or move I just listen.

She said, “he is passed out, now take off your pants so I can suck that huge cock of yours.”

I freeze, I can’t breathe, but I am rock hard again all of the sudden.

I hear her gagging from having his dick in her throat, it sounds like she’s struggling. A smack that must be him slapping her ass. After what seemed like an eternity I begin to hear her moaning.

She screams out, “oh fuck, I’m so wet. Fuck my pussy.”

She had always talked dirty to me, but this was a slutiest I had ever hear her. It sounded as if they were right against the wall 6 inches from me. He kept pounding away and her screams got louder and louder.

Then I heard her say, “fuck my ass. I know you do anal with other girls.”

It was true, my roommate was into anal he had told me and Marisa many times, but my girlfriend was not in to it or at least that was what she had always told me when the subject came up. I almost came right then. She was moaning and half way crying as my roommate stuck his huge cock up her ass.

He kept fucking her harder and harder in the ass. She was moaning very loudly now and I wondered how many of my frat brothers and their girlfriends could hear.

After 10 minutes had passed she said, “cum in my pussy, I’m going to squirt all over your huge cock.”

She was a squirter as she squirted often when we had sex. Her screams began to rise in pitch and volume so I knew she was close. She screamed, “do it! Cum in my pussy!”

He replied, “oh fuck you dirty whore here it comes.”

With that I heard her moan the loudest moan yet and heard him grunt. I knew what had happened.

Then I heard the bathroom door open and I quickly closed my eyes. Now my bedroom door opened and a figure stood next to me in the dark.

She climbed on top of me and shook me awake. Then she immediately sat her pussy on my face, turned around and began sucking my cock.

She said in between strokes, “thank god you are hard because I am so horny.”

I could taste my roommates fresh cum dripping from her pussy, but she never said a word. We fucked twice after that and on the second time my roommate walked in on us with a smile on his face.

Neither of them have ever said anything about it happening to me and I never asked. It is year later and we are all Seniors now and as far as I know they never hooked up again.

[the-firebird69]

So the guy doesn't know the math they hold their son hostage and everybody comes after him and threatened him to get to you and they're doing it here to the idiots and the guy can't see it Mac hasn't here on purpose I send admits it's the only thing that would work to stop them with him being safe but..

So you guys want him to be yelling and screaming at you this Saturday having extra money to buy a whole bunch of Chinese food that you make anyways you're pretty brilliant this is some pretty s*** it's so damn cheap. So Dan is on the show saying your son is a f**** and that he doesn't get his that we don't take his stuff he said you're losing everything you've ever had and all those businesses and you're not in them and you can't figure s*** out what did you not lose yeah I'm taking tons of stuff so you don't give me like 50 dollars. Tell you what were you people doing to yourselves is horrible and we're going to make sure it happens

I'm tired of talking about it but all these awesome movies are going to start and you're going to get ripped apart and torn to shreds this idiot BG I mean you people are f****** stupid I want you out of here and you're going to be I'm going to shoot you Tommy have you shot three times a week minimum and it's probably why this horse winning now we have information we're going to put out there but holy s*** you people suck they're going to pay with your lives we don't see your fat f****** faces anywhere it's so stupid you stick it up in front he will go after you so f****** dumb you don't know the result of anything is

-we've seen tons of people here being total assholes to our son for 15 years and he says is it long enough I'm a Young Man and it's an indicator they should be dead by now and I looked at it and I said why are we keeping them alive no these people and it's because of war and things like that and chaos and it's true and he knows it but he needs the answer and we need to thin the crowd when we can. Take out the week ones hit the strong ones and we're going to do that now

-the Gulf of Mexico is shrinking well it's lowering in water level and they say all these dumb things. You said to see what you're going to do and it is going to drop shortly. It is almost time it's about 3,000 MI into the harbor or golf whatever you idiots call it and cuz you're so huge and it'll be about a hundred more miles which is about 10 minutes normally but it's really going to take about 15 more minutes. And then it will be dropping for feet and it's going to make a noise it's going to sound loud.. well it'll take an hour there's a pretty good vacuum and it is concave and is gone down about 80 ft still no it's done about 300 ft and the wall of water is about 80 ft high that's 300 ft down only the very middle and it goes down sharply and it's really weird looking it's starting to fill up again and it is going out the outlets and in moments the rivers and streams and tribute to everything that feeds the golf is going to empty at the mouth rapidly and then it's going to come from behind and blasts its way out

-there's a whole bunch of stuff going on here but really you assholes are jerks you have time for top chef to tell your people everything's fine and all sorts of dumb s***

-along with the Gulf of Mexico dropping and the rivers and lake streams harbors would have you emptying and blasting out s***

[fansformentalydistroyedmen]

The Intern and The Sociopath Tw-Attempted Suicide

I was very content till “Lizzy get down here. Elizabeth!” My mum yelled.

Elizabeth is what I am usually called. I am a quiet kid, but inside my mind I am as loud as ever. Every time I look at something my brain fills up with details that a common eye would miss. I could easily tell you whose phone it is by just touching the camera, even if they are the same model. I used to be an outgoing kid, but once my dad was sent to jail I shut myself away in my mind. My Mum barely hears a peep out of me. It doesn't help when I'm trying to open up and help someone with my big mind they tell me to shut it because I'm a girl who doesn't know anything, that I should keep my nose and my glowing teal eyes out of it. I am a pale and a thin girl. I pull my long, thick, platinum blonde hair in a loose and messy bun whenever I am thinking. My eyes are intelligent and big. My nose and lips are fair. A single necklace around my neck. It is a bullet, the bullet that killed my brother. It was my late brothers favorite color. I never take it off. I have side bangs that dangle down my small face. I like my cozy sweaters but whenever I go out I am forced by society to wear my corsets and dresses. I hate it, it makes it so hard to breath. I have journals filled with what I like to call my deductions. The things that people usually miss. I live in a big house, some would call me rich but, I just call myself fortunate. Fortunate that my Mum won the case. The divorce case, the case that sent my dad away for the death of my brother, the case that keeps him away from me and the case that gave us our riches. Some would wish to be in my situation, the money, the brain, some for even my looks. I wish it wasn't this way. I was so close to him. He was my best friend. I look like my dad and people that know me tell me I should change to not look like the person who killed my brother, my dad was the person who killed him. I resent him of course but I still miss him. I like my appearance and how it looks like him. It lets me remember the days before his addiction and anger issues. They always tell me I am going to be like him. I'm not, I know that I won't, I am smarter. I am calm because of my dad, he was so angry when he started doing drugs, screams echoing in our hours, I don’t like being mad, so I try to stay calm, I don't want to be like him. I want to prove them wrong. I will be myself and no one else. I was never close to my Mum. Don't get me wrong, I love her but she is obsessed with my appearance and it drives her crazy that I resemble him. She hates the bullet scar on the back of my neck. She is so old fashioned that she makes me wear corsets. Not to mention she believes girls shouldn't think, just spend money. I hate it, I don't want to focus on my looks, I want to go to school and learn. I learned everything from my dad who wanted me to beat stereotypes. Whenever I go to my internship, I lie to her. She thinks I have an internship working for two guys cleaning their house. You can easily tell by their apartment I don't clean. I am growing my mind and I'm striving to keep up. I am, sometimes I am even faster. It took me a long time to start opening up to these people. They took me in and they realized my potential when no one else did and I am forever grateful.

“What is it Mum!” I called down.

I groaned as I rolled over and stood up. I started to walk out of my room. My room was a nice magenta color. With bookcases that lined my walls. It was plain besides that, I am rarely at home anymore. I ran down the spiral staircase and into my big kitchen.

“Yes Mum,”

“Oh good you're here, you need to do your chores.",

“ I did them earlier.",

“Well you need something to do something other than reading or whatever else you're doing up there. You know my saying, A girl-.",

I interrupted. “A girl's work is never done until the house is clean. I know, I know. Instead can I go to my internship with the Wilsons?” I asked urgently, wanting to leave. Wilsons was the fake name I told her. I had to hide the newspapers because I keep appearing in them. If she saw the newspapers and read the names, she would instantly realize what I have been up to.

“Fine at least that's something lady like. Now go throw some clothes on that are more femenine.",

“Mum!” I glared.

“Now you can't be seen like this in public.",

“Fine!” I yelled storming up the winding staircase. I ran into my bedroom and went into my closet. I went to the back and grabbed a black corset and this light purple dress. I threw the dress on and then put the corset around me. I buckled it so it stayed on and rang for a maid. My maid, Amanda, walked in.

“Hello miss.",

“Hi, could you please tighten this?”

“Yes of course.", she made it so tight I could almost feel it squeezing my lungs. I took a big gasp for air even though barely any air came in.

“ Thanks Amanda.", the maid walked out. I went to my closet and grabbed a pair of boots and put them on. I also grabbed a pair of flats and put them in a bag as well as a sweater and leggings. I threw the sack of clothes over my shoulder. Walking down my stairs trying not to faint from the lack of air and not to fall from my stud boots, I made it to the kitchen and grabbed an apple. I started to walk towards the door when my mum came over.

“Aww beautiful, now hold still.",

My mum grabbed my hair tie and pulled my messy bun down.

“Mum!'' She ignored me. My mum grabbed a hair brush and started to brush my hair. I sighed. Soon she finished with the hair. I was just about to leave when she grabbed my makeup bag.

“Mum!”

“Stop moving!” I groaned. Finally she was done applying makeup.

“Bye Mum” I leaned backwards and grabbed the door handle.

“Bye.", I turned around and closed the door quickly walking. I rolled my eyes in disgust, slowly taking bites of my apple every now and then. Soon I arrived at the front door of the apartment.

I was immediately taken back to that stormy night. My Mum had just screamed at me because she was trying to dye my hair, I refused,

She was saying, “You're just like your father! You should be ashamed, ashamed you act and look like him, he killed your brother."

She grabbed my hair and lifted it up.

“This should be a reminder to you.", she pointed to my bullet scar. From when my dad had gotten mad at me. My brother stepped in front of me. The bullet passed right through him and into my neck. Killing my innocent and heroic younger brother. I was sent to surgery. I ripped my hair out of her grasp and ran out of the house, in my leggings and thin sweatshirt, her yelling at me all the way down the street about how I need to change. Once I got off the block I saw the Hospital. I looked at how tall it was. I started running towards it, tears burning my eyes and blinding me. I ran until I saw the hospital back doors that lead up. I burst through the door. I passed a room with two men and a woman inside. The taller man watched me as I ran up the stairs. I heard the door burst open.

“Sherlock! Where are you going?” I heard the other man yell. I ran up the rest of the steps and burst through the roof door feeling the cold air surround me, the soft rain falling on my head, the tears running down my face forming with the rain to create puddles. I walked slowly towards the ledge, putting one foot on the ledge and standing on it like a balance beam, staring down at the car lights that seemed to go as fast as my mind, staring at the sidewalk that seemed like a path to a happier life. I didn't want this. The grey walking path seemed like a siren that just kept calling me, ringing in my ears. I just stared down until I heard the door behind me swing open, I could almost hear it come off its hinges, it was the tall and short man.

“Hey”, the taller guy said in a gentle tone.

“You don't want this. Let me help you." he reached out a hand. I looked between the two. The two options were like a close race you had to rewatch many times.

“Trust me, this isn't what you want, come with us and we can help.", the shorter man begged desperately.

“Please let us help you," the taller man said once more trying to keep his voice steady. But I could hear a hint of despair and sadness lurking in his voice. So many words were flashing through my mind like they do everytime I look at something. The words give me a headache and overwhelm me. I turned back around staring down at the concrete below me. I thought hard one more time.

“Please let us help you." The taller man was no longer hiding his desperation. I looked back at them one more time with a sorry face. I looked forward and leaned feeling the air swoosh aside me as if I was an airplane I could hear the short man scream.

“Shoot Sherlock!” It all ended so fast I felt a shock rush through my arm. I was dangling.

“John! John! Come help me!”, he yelled. I was panting like a dog on a hot day. My cries grew louder and my breathing became unsteady. John reached down, reaching for my other arm. I reach up.

“We got you." I looked down and saw how high up I was, I felt sick, I could feel the bile rushing up my throat, burning it all the way up.

“Just look at us. Don't look down.", I looked at them and they were pulling me up. Once I got over the ledge. The taller one fell over, I fell into his lap, and I just started to cry. My clothes were soaked to the bone. I could feel him looking at the shorter guy, his eyes were wide asking what to do, I could see through the tears and his coat, gesturing to be honest... I don’t understand what he was motioning. So the taller guy started to awkwardly stroke my hair.

“It’s ok.",

“Shhhhhhh” After a little my tears slowed down and my breathing settled.

“Come on love let's get out of the rain.", The tall man directed gently. He stood up and gestured for me to take his hand. I reached out and he grabbed it and helped me up. He opened up his coat and pulled me to his side so I was also inside it. To help me stay as warm as I could, the shorter man came over with an umbrella that shielded us from the storm. We walked in silence, as we walked down the stairs, the woman came out.

“Sherlock, what's going on?”

“Not now Molly, later.", Sherlock responded. We walked for a little longer until they called a cab and gestured for me to get in. I slowly slid inside and we drove once again in silence, except for my occasional sniffle.

Soon we arrived at an apartment building. We walked inside and we were greeted with a nice older lady.

“Sherlock, who is this?”, she asked, taking a slow step back.

“Mrs. Hudson could you grab us nice hot cups of tea please and bring it up to the flat.", the short guy asked.

“Yes of course.", we continued upstairs to I guess where their flat was. We walked inside. The small apartment is messy. Papers were scattered everywhere. The bedroom was locked even though no one was inside, the smell of burning cigarettes lingered in the room, a single yellow smiley face above the couch with bullet holes in it. If you walked towards the fireplace on the mantle there was an animal skull with headphones sitting on its head. Next to it there is a stack of papers stabbed onto the mantle. A couple of windows show London, Baker Street. The cabs are driving everywhere while people are running to get out from the cold. The knocker is somewhat crooked. They guided me towards a pair of chairs. They pulled another chair from the side of the room. They gestured for me to sit. I walked over and sat. They sat in the chairs opposite from me. Mrs. Hudson brought cups of tea up.

“Thanks.", I said.

“Anytime deary.", she said as she tapped my cheek and walked off.

“I am Dr. John Watson and this is Sherlock Holmes. What's your name?”

“ I…. I am Elizabeth but please call me Lizzy.", I stuttered.

“Ok Lizzy, what's going on.", I explained my dad and brother, then my Mum.

“I am sorry Lizzy.", they both replied seeming sympathetic.

“Then my mind just fills with words. I like to call them deductions.", at that they looked at each other then motioned for me to continue.

“It just gets loud sometimes. I don't know how to calm it down. I feel like I am spinning in circles. I don’t know how to explain it. It just feels like people are screaming words into my head. It could be from looking at something, smelling something, and even tasting something. I just try to stay inside but even then my mind doesn't stop or slow down. I can never sleep. It's just so loud.", I wailed. For the first time Sherlock spoke instead of just looking at me.

“How old are you?”

“Uhhh 13.",

“Listen kid, Sherlock has the same thing, he makes deductions, that's his job, he is a consulting detective, the only consulting detective. He understands how you feel. It's hard, you just have to practice controlling it.", John comforted.

“Can Sherlock and I talk?” John asked.

“Yeah go ahead.", they walked out of the room. I could hear the conversation.

“13 Sherlock! 13 and she tried to…” He trailed off.

“I know it's terrible… I think we should hire her as an intern. Then she can learn and get out of her house.",

“Sherlock we do some very dangerous things.",

“I know.", I fell asleep after that. They walked back out of the room with a firm decision. They walked out and saw me fast asleep. They threw a blanket over me.

The next morning I woke up and they told me their plan and I was ecstatic. That's the day I started my internship, that's when I started to lie to my Mum, and when I started going on thrilling adventures. I smiled at the thought of how far I had come in only a few months and continued inside the flat. I was greeted by Mrs. Hudson. She pulled me into a hug.

“They are upstairs with a client.", I wanted to change into more comfortable clothes but I needed to get to work.

“Ok, thanks.", I walked up the creaky steps and into their flat.

“Hey Lizzy come here.", they pulled out a chair and I sat next to them. While Sherlock continued talking I talked to John.

“What's his problem.", I pointed at the crying client.

“Says his wife was eaten by plants.", My eyes widened and you could see the shock on my face.

“Geez", I said.

“I know.", we started listening again.

“We were walking by this plant and I looked away for a split second and when I looked back my wife was gone. The only thing left was some drool and the plant was slightly turned.", said the man. Sherlock seemed to be thinking.

“Maybe a dog.", I intergined.

“Possible.", Sherlock responded with.

“Alright get out will take the case.", Sherlock said as he got up from his chair.

“Thank you.", the guy whispered as he ran out.

“So when do we start?”, I asked.

“Lizzy, it's a dangerous one and it's far.", John stated.

“I can still come. I will be helpful. Where is it?” I asked frantically.

“Finland."

“That's ok I will just tell Mum I am away to help one of your friends move. Please!”, I begged.

“Lizzy, you're 13, I don't know. Sherlock, what do you think?”, said John as he glanced at him. Sherlock was quiet for a minute.

“She can come, we can ease her in. It will be good, if this goes well she can start with bigger cases. We always like having her ideas. She has really grown in the 4 months. A lot better. She will be out of the house."

“Alright I guess you're coming. Go pack we will meet you outside your house. Your Mum cannot see us."

“Yay! I know.", I was about to rush out when John stopped me.

“Did you do your exercises today?”

“Yes I deducted my ceiling. I concentrated on the words coming slower and they did.", I stated proudly.

“How are the headaches?”, John asked.

“They are getting better and less frequent.",

“Good. Go pack.", I ran out of the flat and down the stairs. I burst out the door and ran home.

“Mum I am home.", “

Already?”

“Yeah so, I have to go to Finland."

“What! Why?” “I am going to help their friend move.",

“That's far, I don’t know if I am comfortable with that. Can I meet them?”

“No!”, I yelled. She gave me a look.

“Please mum!” I begged.

“Fine go pack and I want to check your bag before you leave.", I rolled my eyes and I made my way upstairs and into my room. I started packing a fake bag full of the clothes she wants me to wear and a bag full of clothes I want. I walked down the stairs very quietly and hid the bag I didn’t want her to see outside the front door.

“Here Mum.", I gave her the fake bag. She inspected it.

“Alright it's good. I love you, see you soon.", she gave me a hug.

“Bye Mum love you.", I ran out the door and saw a cab,Sherlock and John were already inside. I threw the clothes bag that I didn't want into the bushes and grabbed my real bag. Then I jumped in the cab.

“All good?”

“Yep!” We drove to the train station, bursting with energy the whole time while we discussed the case. We got onto our train and I went and changed out of these uncomfortable clothes and into a sweatshirt. I returned to my seat. I thought about all of the man eating plants I could think of.

“Kid, you should take a break.", John crossed his arms .

“I need to think and Sherlock is doing it.", I retaliated.

“First off are we supposed to do what Sherlock does? And Mr. Sherlock should stop too.", he finished with. Sherlock still didn't stop holding his hands to his temple.

“If I have to stop then you have to as well.", I threw a notebook at him.

“What?” Sherlock asked.

“You two need to take a break.", John repeated very sternly.

“Ugh what else are we supposed to do on a train.", Sherlock complained.

“I don't know what about, eating, playing games, drawing, reading, or talking.", John responded with.

“We aren't five.", I responded.

“Why don't we play Clue?” Sherlock suggested.

“No! Whenever we play, you always respond with “it's not possible.", Watson complained

. “Because it's not!”, Sherlock responded with.

“Ok what if we order some food and we could go over our notes."

“Food sounds good but let's play the deduction game.", Sherlock squealed. John and I both looked at him with an odd stare.

“What's the deduction game?” I asked.

“It is where you look at something and see who can get the most information."

“Cool!”

“While you play, I will order food.", once John left we got up to walk around the train. We walked by someone and hid behind a wall.

“Okay you first.", Sherlock insisted.

“Okay this guy is on his way to file divorce papers, he is not happy about it, I’m guessing he had an affair since he has a notepad with the names of two women, one of them has the word wife written around it but it is crossed out while the other has the name Jolian and Girlfriend. So I am guessing the wife found out or he wouldn't have crossed out the word wife. The girlfriend didn't care very much about his wife, so they are going to get married right after the signing of the divorice. The ring is sticking out of his pocket. The guy has children. 2 wait no, 3 kids. Two girls and one boy. The girls are older. The girls are already married. The boy is young 7.", I proudly said.

“Very good little one except you missed some key points. Well you so the reason his wife found out is because he told her he was taking a business trip. He actually was taking his girlfriend to Miami. The wife found out because of his tan and sunburn, a tan is easy to hide but a sunburn can be red and/or pink and itchy. She also later found the girlfriend's sun hat. The wife couldn't bare to tell him in person so she wrote him a note explaining, which is sticking out of his pocket. Knowing it wasn't hers she confronted him. He gave in and she filled for a divorce taking all of his access to his children away. His wife is an accountant and he is a banker. He is not organized at all and he usually has 3 cigarettes by 5 o’clock but since he is on a train he can't. You can tell by his shaking hands and the fact he keeps reaching up towards his mouth, this guy also enjoys counting money. He has a bag of coins in his pocket. He was fired after they heard about it. Causing him to have no house, no savings, nothing is his. The girlfriend is very rich which is why he still has a suit.", Sherlock put out very quickly.

“Oh I see."

“You kids having fun?” We turned around and saw John. We tried to shush him. But the guy turned around the corner and saw us.

“Whoops.", we ran down the hallway back to our compartment.

“Well…” I started to laugh.

“Stop laughing and eat.", John laughed out. I tried to contain my laughter but every time I took a bite I laughed a little.

“Stop laughing or you're going to choke.", John once again laughed out.

“I can’t stop laughing!”

“Eat your food so your mind can stay sharp.", now Sherlock was laughing at me for not stopping.

“Oh you guys are kids.", we turned around to see the train attendant.

“Can I help you with anything?” She asked.

“No we are good."

“Well good.", she walked off.

“When will we get there?”

“A couple days.”, They said. The days went on, eating, sleeping, deducting random people, we got a few cool people. There was one cop that stood out to me but I couldn't quite put my finger on it. He was watching us. I decided to send Sherlock a message in a different language.

“ Шерлок, он наблюдает за нами. Послушайте, он не переставал пялиться на нас с тех пор, как мы сели в поезд. (Sherlock, he is watching us. Look, he hasn't stopped staring at us since we got on the train. ) I moved my head towards him.

“What's going on?” John asked. I glared at him and nodded again towards the cop.

“В самом деле! (Really!)” He yelled really annoyed.

“What!” I asked. Sherlock stormed off towards the cop.

“Lestrade!” Sherlock yelled. The cop turned around.

“What?”

“ Why are you here?”Sherlock asked, really annoyed now.

“I am going away to see my family."

“You don’t like your extended family! Obviously you have already called them and cancelled. So why are you here? I don’t need a handler!”, Sherlock screamed.

“I am not your handler, I just came to watch.", the man said.

“Yeah to watch me!”

“Don’t get full of yourself.", said the man now rolling his eyes.

“Microft sent you.", said Sherlock squinting his eyes.

“Maybe."

“Why?” Sherlock’s eyes were now completely shut and you could see his forehead lines growing, he was thinking..

“I don’t know, maybe because he saw you bring a 13 year old girl onto a train with you and usually you don’t like or care for children. You know there have been rumors about her. A secret child of yours. People keep seeing her pop up around cases a lot. People saw her get on the train with you. People also saw you running away from that one guy you were deducing.",

“Geez Lestrade, Lizzy, would you like to introduce yourself." Panic immediately rushed through me. I don't like new people. Not people who I may have to get to know. I shook my head.

“Alright, Lestrade meet Elizabeth, she likes to be called Lizzy, so don’t be an idiot and call her that. She is not my secret child, she is my prodigy.", he smiled at me. I immediately felt proud. Sherlock Holmes, the best detective, thinks I am a prodigy.

“Nice to meet you Lizzy.", he stuck out his hand. I felt John push me a little. I shook his hand.

“Hello.", I greeted him politely. I looked at the man. He was older and tired. A non rule follower, he follows his gut, he is trying to quit smoking so he has patches, he respects Sherlock, his team doesn't he tries to get his team to cooperate with him even when he is being difficult and insulting people. Except he does get frustrated by Sherlocks unwanted deductions and when Sherlock doesn't give an explanation to his conclusions. Despite all of this he has a lot of respect for him and often asks for his help.

“Now why are you working with a lot like them.", before I could say anything John cut in.

“She is amazing, almost as smart as Sherlock, she will probably be smarter than him in a few years.", I blushed at this compliment.

“Wow, so you're like this buffoon.", I laughed.

“I don’t know what your definition of buffoon is, but Sherlock is not a ridiculous person or a clown. He can be a very straight face person as you know it, since you have known him for over five years. Now if you wanted to quit smoking, try it slower than what you're doing. You are more likely to get tempted. Also sorry about your cheating wife.” I spat out. He looked at me and then Sherlock. Then at John.

“Wow, that was great no wonder he took you.", I half smiled at the compliment knowing I completely just invaded his privacy.

“So she's your intern?"

“Yes."

“Alright, so tell me about this case.", I was filled with excitement.

“So, this man came in claiming a plant ate his wife and now we are going to figure out what happened. Since it doesn't make sense that a plant would eat something that big, I have only heard of bugs eating plants or small mammals not a whole woman. This seems like the Hounds of Baskerville case, where they used a drug to stimulate the brain and its fear. So you would see what you thought you would see. You never know though, I hope we find something good.", I basically squealed with excitement while going over my case notes.

“Wow that's a lot, so how long till this train stops?",

“About a day.", John replied.

“Well I have a few calls to make so you should go back to your compartment. It was nice meeting you Lizzy."

“Nice to meet you too, bye!”, We waved and walked towards our compartment and I sat down in my seat. John and Sherlock were conversing about something unimportant. So I leaned against the window and started to go through my case notes once more hopping to catch something I hadn't before. This case rattled my brain. I closed my eyes and started to focus very hard on every little deduction I would've missed. The guy was sweating a lot, so he was obviously scared. He got on a very late train which is why his under eyes were so baggy and purplish in color. I assume he didn't get to sleep on the train. Who would sleep if a plant ate his wife right in front of him. By his anxiousness you can tell he is not lying unless he is an amazing liar but nothing popped up in my head that shows he is a liar. He seemed very general. So let's think about plants. There is the venus flytrap and the Nepenthes which is supposed to be the largest man-eating plant in the world but they don’t eat people. After a while of thinking I just couldn't find anything relevant to the case. Soon I found myself drifting into a slumber.

After a while I heard,

“Lizzy, Lizzy.", someone was shaking me. I bolted up off the window and I was sitting upright now.

“We are here.", I heard Sherlock say.

“Oh ok."We jumped in a cab and drove for a little, until we arrived at a small town. We thanked the cabbie and got out. It was cold, so I pulled my coat tighter around me.

“It sure is chilly.", John complained. We continued into town until we stopped at a small motel. We walked in, it was very dark. The windows were covered with dark purple see through curtains, making the room seem very gloomy. The walls were old and the wallpaper was peeling. There were cobwebs peeking out from the dark corner. We heard something scury behind us causing us to jump and turn around very quickly. Then we heard a bell ding causing us to turn back around causing our coats to swish behind us. Behind the black counter there was a thin and old woman.

“Good Morning youngins."

“Good Morning miss, we booked 3 rooms. For 3 nights, and 4 days.", Sherlock recalled.

“Yes you are the Sherlock person and his crew.", she said with her voice was scratchy and harsh.

“Your rooms are on the 3 floor. Now be careful of the rats.", her voice made me crawl in my skin.

“Thanks." Sherlock motioned us towards the stairs. They creaked as we took steps being careful just in case they were to fall through. Once we got upstairs we went our separate ways to unpack. Once we were done we met in the creepy lobby.

“Alright we should start by going to the scene. We walked out the door and towards the forest. The sun was setting with beautiful colors. As we walked deeper into the forest we heard more and more animals. Some singing, some growling, and some scurrying. John had brought his flashlight and was shining towards the ground so we could see where we were hiking. Sherlock was far ahead while John was trailing behind me. It was definitely colder now it was dark. The trees hid the moon. I bundled myself into my jacket. I heard something crack so I stopped walking for a second. I looked down at the wet soil underneath me and saw it cracking. It slipped under me making me scream. I fell into a deep ditch, a pain shot up my leg.

“Lizzy!” I heard footsteps running above me.

“I am down here!” I looked up and saw John shine the light on me. Sherlock and him were standing away from the ledge.

“Are you ok?”, John asked

“Yeah, just some scrapes and bruises.", I dusted myself off.

“Anything down there?”, Sherlock asked.

“Let me check.", I wandered around the surprisingly big hole. I saw a light at the end of the tunnel.

“I see a light!”

“Do not engage, do not. Lets get you out of there.", John yelled down.

“I am pursuing the light.", ignoring John's instructions. I continued walking towards the bright light, hearing muffled talk from John and Sherlock. A shiver rushed through me and it was even colder down here than it was up there so pulled my coat tightly closed. After I walked for a little I saw something move. I froze feeling terror rush through my body. I heard something run behind me. I quickly turned around to see a shadow. I was about to look further till the lights went out and everything went pitch black. I felt something brush past me again. Followed by a high pitch scream so I reached for my ears. Soon the lights turned on blinding me from the sudden brightness. I rubbed my eyes but they were blurry. My sight is still blurry. I fell over from trying to walk off. Soon I put my head up and my eyes adjusted. I looked up and saw a giant shadow standing over me. It looked like a giant plant, like the plant the client described. My mouth fell open in shock and terror. I heard something move behind me, and suddenly the lights shut off. I sat there frozen. The lights quickly turned back on. The plant was gone except I could hear someone behind me. Too scared to look at the source of the noise, till I heard their voice. It was Sherlock. He rushed over and picked me up by the elbows and placed me back on my feet. Except my feet gave away making me fall back down. He once again picked me up by the elbows holding me up this time.

“Lizzy.", he whispered. He let go of one of my elbows and patted my cheek trying to regain my attention. I was lost in my brain, Frozen, I couldn't respond.

“Lizzy!” He whispered yelled. Again tapping my cheek but also grabbing my chin and moving it back and forth as if he was trying to get a good look at me.

“Lizzy what happened, are you ok?” He asked.

“I seemed to understand that question but I couldn't answer. The only way I could respond with was my big dazed eyes letting a few tears drop and a whimper escaped my lips.

“Oh Liz, come.", he gained hold of my shoulders and guided me to the hole which I had fallen through.

“I have her!”, he yelled up. John appeared and put his hand down. Out of instinct I grabbed hold and he pulled me up. Once I was up I crumpled to the floor and sat there trying to process what had just happened. I could hear John pulling Sherlock up.

“What happened, is she ok?”, John asked.

“I think she is in some sort of daze or shock.", they both offered their hands to help me up. I looked at the hands for a few seconds before grabbing on and standing up. Sherlock wrapping an arm around me so I would not fall back down. John walked ahead shining the light for us. Quiet tears escaped my eyes while every once and awhile a whimper or a sniffle would be heard from my lips and nose. Every now again Sherlock would pull me closer when he heard an animal. After a long and quiet walk we arrived back at the motel. Sherlock guided me inside and checked if the scary lady had retreated to bed yet. Luckily she had. They took me to the common room where the visitors could relax in front of a fire. They sat me on the couch and Sherlock sat across from me. John had gone to make tea. I just stared at the fire trying to evaluate what happened. Nothing made sense. Usually I can make sense of things like this, but this time it was just pure fear. I could feel my body still shaking and my heart still pounding in my throat. Soon John came back with tea and handed it to me. He sat down next to Sherlock and they just stared at my shaking hands. I put the cup down before I could spill it.

“Drink, you will feel better." I followed the order and grabbed the cup moving slowly so it would be less likely to spill. We sat there for a while till I finished drinking and my shaking had stopped.

“So, what happened?", John asked while Sherlock stared at my face. I took a shaky breath.

“It was cold, and the light went out and then turned back on quickly. Causing my vision to go blurry, and I could hear something moving. Soon my vision caused me to fall. When I looked up there was a large plant-like shadow in front of me. Then it disappeared just as fast as it came. I..I usually can evaluate things in hard or scary situations quickly but this time it felt like all of life was sucked out of me. My mind froze like my body and I didnt know what was happening. Now I can't stop shaking.", I cried at every word. Sherlock stared at me while he was watching my slow movements. They had to be able to hear my heart beating against my rib cage. John seemed surprised and Sherlock showed no emotion; he was blank. Just staring at me, I wish I could read what was going on in his mind.

“Lizzy.", John mumbled after minutes of unbearable silence. I looked up from my shaking hands and bouncing leg.

“You are safe now.", John said trying to calm me. That's when I stood up very quickly making me feel dizzy and reaching backwards to try to grasp onto the couch to support myself. John and Sherlock quickly stood up reaching out to me.

“Do not say I am safe! There is something out there! It almost got me! What if it gets one of you! I have no one left who cares about me! Except you! I can’t lose you! We are not safe! It could be watching us right now! Just waiting to get us! To kill us! I can’t lose you! I can't lose you. I just can’t.", I broke down screaming as tears fell down my face. I hung my head in shame of being weak. I broke, I finally broke, they are going to see the weak side of me. They are going to think I am not strong enough to come. Instead of yelling at me like my mother or father would have done they embraced me in a hug catching me by surprise. I melted into the gesture and just let the tears and worries escape. My breathing still slightly harsh. John lifted my head up so I was looking at him and moved my hair out of my eyesight.

“We are not going to leave you, you are one of the strongest people we have ever met. You are brave, courageous, intelligent, and many other very important things. Everyone gets scared sometimes even if you're like Sherlock, Sherlock has gotten scared. So don’t put yourself down, we are going to stay with you. We were both terrified when you fell in that hole and we couldn't hear you anymore. We can’t lose you either, you are so important to us and our cases. You really do help. So it’s ok to cry, and your right we aren't safe. But when are we ever, we always go on dangerous cases. Except we are safe together cause we can problem solve. So, why don't we head off to bed and tomorrow we will check more clues out.", John spoke softly.

“Yeah Lizzy we really do like having you around.", Sherlock finished.

“Thanks.", I gave them a hug.

“Now head off to bed and try and sleep."

“Alright. I walked up the stairs but stopped to listen in.

“Are you sure she will sleep tonight?”, Sherlock asked.

“Yeah I added a bit of melatonin in her tea.", John replied. I laughed finally realizing how tired I really was. So I retreated to my bed.

The next morning-

I woke up and I blinked a couple of times. Looking around my dark and tight room feeling deflated and exhausted, I got out of bed and went to my bathroom to freshen up. Once I was done I blow dried my hair which made it fluff up. I tried to flatten my hair but it just wouldn't stay down so I just left it. I threw on a sweater and leggings. I went to my window to see what the weather was like. I tried to open it right until I realized it was fake. My mind and myself is still a little slow and groggy. I focused really hard and noticed a few things that hinted at the fact it was raining and cold. So I grabbed my Classical Lapel Swing Woolen coat. Putting it on my arm and walking out the cream and creaky door. I walked down the stairs and saw the scary lady.

“Rough night?”

“Uh yeah, do you know where Sher-", she pointed down the hall where Sherlock was. I couldn't see John, which was strange.

“Morning Sherlock."

“Morning.", he was very focused on something. Probably playing ideas in his head.

“Where's John?”

“He went on a stroll."

“In this weather?”

“He said he was looking for something."

“Oh, alright and what are you doing."

“Analyzing the exact words you said last night."

“Oh alright.", I sat down next to him and watched as gears turned in his head. I stared at the wall. I didn't really want to think about last night, but I knew I had to. I stared at the wall as flashbacks started to riddle through my head. Shaking my head to fast forward through my memory. I got the part where I saw the plant shadow. I saw something glistening on the neck of the plant. I put my hands to my temples and mentaly zoomed in. I looked hard until I could see what it was. It was a necklace. It was a dog tag! I couldn't see the numbers but I knew we had to go to a nearby army base.

“Sherlock, I found something.",

“What?”

“The plant had a dog tag! There is an army base about ten minutes from here. I think it is closed for good though. So we have to get in."

“Brillant! Let me call John.", Sherlock left the room, leaving me feeling very proud of myself. He soon came back with his coat.

“John is waiting outside, lets go.", he beckoned me. We walked outside and got into a car I guess we rented.

“Were the numbers noticeable?”, John asked.

“No, I couldn't read the numbers.", I replied slightly disappointed about that. After the car ride we got out and threw on our coats. We walked up to the tall gates, you could see electricity still pulsing through it.

“If the base is closed why is the gate still on?", I asked.

“Cause they are hiding something.", Sherlock said as he went up the gate and found a loose wire. He pulled scissors out of nowhere and cut the wire and then it shut off.

“Lizzy, do you have your phone?”, Sherlock asked me.

“Yeah”, I quickly said as I pulled it out of my pocket. Sherlock took my phone and looked at it. He then turned my flashlight on.

“What are you doing?”, John asked.

“Lizzy has been experimenting with her phone. Dangerous work.", he jokingly clicked his tongue at me.

“Well what did she do to it?”John asked, now sounding concerned.

“Made a blacklight out of it, among other things. A really strong black light.”

“How does that help us?” John once again asked.

“Just wait and see.", Sherlock put my phone in his pocket and started to climb the fence. John motioned for me to climb once Sherlock jumped onto the ground. I started to climb while John stayed under me just in case. I got to the other side and reached out for Sherlock. He gave me his hand and I jumped down. John quickly followed.

We walked towards the tall and creepy building. We got to the door and Sherlock motioned for me to kick it. I kicked it right in the right spot making the door burst open.

“Nice!” They yelled. I laughed at their enthusiasm. We walked through the now broken door and into a dark hallway. The lights turned on as we walked deeper. The emergency door shut with a loud bang and the alarm started to blare. Causing us to turn around and I ran towards the door.

“Ugh! Why do they always make it so complicated.", I mumbled. Sherlock and John laughed at my commentary.

“Well guess we have to shut the thing off.", someone yelled. I couldn't tell who it was. I was trying to cover my ears.

“Come I know the way!” Again someone yelled. We followed John and he led us to a bright room full of buttons. He walked to a control panel and he started to type something in.

“We need a password!”, he yelled in a panic. Sherlock put his fingers to his temples and started to spin around.

“The password is spaghetti.", I yelled. Sherlock looked at me with a confused look. John typed it in and it worked shutting the alarm off.

“How?” Sherlock asked.

“There is a sticky note over there that says the password.", John laughed at Sherlock's face of confusion.

“Alright you took my phone why?”, I asked

“Do you have your powder?” Sherlock asked, completely ignoring my question.

“My makeup powder, well I left it at home since I don’t use it."

“Check your pockets.", Sherlock instructed. I checked my jacket pockets and there was powder.", my mouth fell open in shock.

“Your Mum snuck it into your pocket."

“Ugh! Why do you want it?”

“Just give it.", I handed it to him. He opened it up and dumped a little around the room. He then took my phone out of his pocket and turned my blacklight on. You could see footprints.

“Wow!”

“Come.", we followed as he dumped more. We continued until we stopped at the door. I took a deep breath and kicked the door again. It was dark, and small. We heard something shuffle around so John and Sherlock slowly moved me so I was behind them and they were covering me so I couldn't be seen. Then we heard the door slam. Making us all turn around quickly and for Sherlock to grab ahold of me so I was once again behind them. We stood there anticipating the worst. Who or what was here in this facility. Whatever it was, it wanted us dead. Then a crash echoed in front of us. The lights turned on and blinded us. We blinked a couple of times. Until our eyes adjusted to the bright light.

“What are you guys doing here?” Someone asked. We turned around and it was Mr. Lestrade.

“George, why are you here?"Sherlock said, sounding asaperated.

“First off it’s Greg, secondly where else would I be if I got an alert that someone broke into a closed Military Base.", Lestrade sounded interested,

“Why are you here?” We stared at each other not knowing what to tell him.

“We are researching.", I blurted out. Lestrade's face turned into confusion.

“Trying to see if they did an experiment here that could have caused the plant rumor to start.", I finished.

“Did you find anything?”

“We thought so, but it was just your footprints.", I was annoyed. He made a face.

“So nothing?”

“Nothing.", I shook my head.

“Well let me escort you out before you get arrested.", he motioned with his hands.

“Wait, what's in that backroom.", I asked. I started walking towards the door.

“Lizzy don’t.", John instructed.

“Then come with me.", I stated. They followed me towards the door. I ran my fingers down the hinges. It was metal, too hard to kick down. I reached into my pocket and pulled out a screw driver and a bobby pin. I started to pick the lock.

“3,2,1.", there was a click and the door was open. The room was dark and large. I felt around the wall and felt a lightswitch. I turned it on. Inside were tables with old computers. I walked over to a computer that was on. Staring at the bright white screen. It was asking for a password again. Of course it wouldn't be the same. No if this was important then it would be harder. Everyone walked around the room in circles. I saw a door and walked over to it and jiggled the door knob. It was unlocked. I walked in very cautiously. There were books lining the wall. I ran my hand down the spine of a book. It felt odd. I pulled it out and pressed hardly on the middle section of the spine. The book opened and revealed a notebook. I took the notebook out and opened it. Inside there were many passwords. I narrowed it down to 3 passwords but I had a pretty good idea about which one it was. I put the notebook back in my pocket and walked back towards the computer. I typed in Passwort, which is German for password. Simple people. I laughed. The computer turned on. I clicked on a file called plant. It opened but the only thing inside was pages on how to clean the plant. I felt my smile fade and turn back into a frown.

“Lizzy there's nothing here, let's go.", John yelled out. We walked out of the facility feeling disappointed. Lestrade got into his cop car and left. I jumped into the back of our rental and we drove off. While we were driving I pulled the notebook out and started examining it. I read through each page. On the 10th page there was something that caught my eye. It was a list.

“Step one, dig a hole. Step two, make a bright light, Step three, learn how to do shadow puppets. Step four, make the hole not obvious to the eye so people will fall in. Step five, make a cell. Step six, plan done.", wait, it's all made sense.

“Stop driving!”, I yelled.

“Lizzy what.", Sherlock asked, seeming increasingly worried.

“We have to go back to that hole, NOW!.", I stumbled going through the pages in the book.

”What! Why?”, John asked.

“Look.", I showed them what I found.

“Brilant!” John made a U-turn and just like that we were on our way to the forest. To say I was terrified was an understatement. I could already hear my heart beating out of my chest. I took steadying breaths. Looking down at the notebook on my bouncy knee. I knew I had to do this. I had to go back. Soon we arrived at the forest. We got out of the car and started walking towards where the hole was.

Soon we arrived. I looked down at the hole. I wish I could say I got a better look but the sun was already setting. I took a shaky breath and Sherlock put a hand on my shoulder. They both grabbed my hand and lowered me into the hole. They then jumped in and we started off. Every little noise makes my heart pound even faster. With every pace we took I grew paler and paler. Soon we arrived at the light. We stood there for a couple seconds. Till the light shut off and instant terror ran up my spine, making my legs feel like jelly. I felt hands shuffle pushing me to the back. I wish I could say they were Sherlocks and Johns but in all honesty I have no clue. I took a couple breaths knowing what was just about to happen. I looked around for the shadow but I could not see it. Then the lights turned back on instantly giving me a major headache and Deja Vu, remembering and feeling like the other night. I held against a dirt wall for support and waited for my eyesight to settle. That's when I saw it again. The giant over looming shadow.

“ It's not real, it's not real, it's all shadows.", I whispered to myself. If I wanted this to end I knew what I had to do. I took one last look at the shadow and took off running using all of my strength to hold me. I heard someone yell my name but it was too late . I was determined to end this once and for all. I kept running till I ran into someone. Causing both of us to fall backwards, and hit the floor. *Thump* Was the sound our heads made while hitting the ground. I sat up rubbing my head. I saw Sherlock and John running up to me.

“Are you ok?”, John asked urgently.

“Yeah, I am ok.", we all moved our gaze onto the young man laying on the floor. Sherlock walked over and grabbed him by the collar of his shirt, making him stand up.

“Who are you?”

“I am Joe and you are my prisoners."

“What, that's not how it looks. Now show us where you keep the people.", Sherlock demanded.

“Why should I do that.", Sherlock pulled his arm behind his back so he was groaning in pain.

“Ok, ok, I will show you.", we followed closely behind the guy as John sent a text to Lestrade telling him to meet us here. Soon we arrived at a room full of bars and people.

“Why would you do this?”, I was mortified at all the people laying on the floor half dead from starvation.

“I wanted to see how far people's imagination would go and of course after they figure it out they can’t be let out. That stuipd guy who escaped told you about his wife didn't he.”

“I am not going to answer that.", I strictly said.

“Well the cops will be here any second so it's over for you.",

“I don’t think so.", the guy grabbed John and held a gun to his head.

“Come any closer I dare you.", I stood there in shock.

“Just then there was a loud explosion overhead. Cops came flooding in and the guy released John. The cops quickly grabbed hold of him. I ran over to John and embraced him in a hug.

“Are you ok?” I asked, scared.

“Yes, not the first or last time it has happened.", I laughed. We walked towards Lestrade.

“Well my detective crew you did it once again. Except we still have to check you out, so go to the ambulances.", we all walked towards the ambulances. They took me to a separate one and started to ask me questions. They looked me over. Nothing more than a few scrapes and bruises. They did put a blanket on me. I guess for shock but I enjoyed the warmth it provided. Once we finished we got a thank you speel from Lestrade and the people who were held captive. We were able to watch as the man and his wife got united. Plus all of the other people. It filled my heart with joy.

“Pack up, we are going to Iceland.

[casspurrjoybell-19]

My Feral Mate

*Warning: Adult Content*    

Chapter 6 - Part 1 - Echo    

My vision was blurry and this time, I couldn't even attribute it to my less-than-adequate eyesight. This time, it was because I'd been staring at the same spot on my wall for what felt like forever, waiting impatiently for any news at all. Time had long become an abstract concept, with minutes passing like eternities and ever since I'd been banished from the Pack House and sequestered within the confines of my parent's house so that, as Uncle Benji put it "the medical professionals can complete their work without the threat of Ecko interfering," an unsettling sense of restlessness settled into the very marrow of my bones. Whining, I shoved my face into the duvet, curling even further into myself as Sana scratched endlessly at the forefront of my mind, just as desperate as I to prove them all right in their ploy to keep me away. Realistically, I knew that it was for the best. Of course I did but it didn't help the ache in my heart, the vicious cramp in my gut that told me he needed me just as much as I needed him but instead, I was being taught a brutal lesson on patience, one that hurt so bad that the muffled scream that I let loose into the duvet nearly ripped my throat apart. 

"Damn, you've got some lungs on you, lil' bro," an unwelcome voice suddenly interjected, puncturing itself right through into my steadily encroaching depressive thoughts. 

"You ever considered trying screamo? I could put you in touch with some local bands that would be stoked to have you. You've got that adorable yet also completely insane vibe going on that they would totally dig." 

Even my cheeks flamed in embarrassment at being caught in the middle of what should have been a private emotional burst, I turned my head out of the blanket once, glaring at the sight of Nuri as he flounced his way into my room as if he owned the freaking place. Not skipping a beat, he sprawled out his long limbs on my carpet, nonchalantly spread-eagling across the cushy fabric. 

"What the hell... I could have sworn that I locked my door," I muttered blankly, rubbing at my burning eyes which I had no doubt matched the color of my bright hair now. 

It was a testament to my mental state that I didn't even comment on the fact that he'd so confidently called me his little brother. 

"Yeah, well. Nothing keeps me from getting what I want." 

The eternally monotone voice of my little sister suddenly joined the steadily growing posse as she slipped through the door behind my other brother. She used an unkinked paperclip like a toothpick as she smirked mischievously around it, leaning against the wall next to the door and crossing her legs at the ankle as she unabashedly showed me the tool she'd undoubtedly just used to pick the lock. Nuri grinned proudly, pointing up at our sister with his own, matching toothpick that seemed to materialize out of thin air. 

"Taught her everything she knows. What a fuckin' prodigy. Stay tuned, 'cause for our next lesson, I'm teaching her how to really fuck some shit up." 

Before I could even begin to form a reply to that highly alarming remark, Theon's large form busted through my door with a casually ridiculous phrase that he'd undoubtedly picked up from our slightly unhinged Uncle Tyrus. 

"Hey ho, Muchacho." 

I groaned aloud as the sight of his brightly grinning form, complete with his neck pillow firmly secured and arms filled with bags of chips and other ridiculously unhealthy snacks, finally sent me over the freaking edge. 

"Okay, what the flip, you guys?" I hollered as I sat up, smashing the closest available pillow to my pained chest as I fought against a new wave of tears that threatened to spill over. 

They weren't tears of gratitude but rather tears of sheer overstimulation. 

"I'm literally experiencing the lowest point of my entire fucking life and you guys pull this shit?" 

The tears weren't just threatening anymore but full-on attacking as they tumbled down my cheeks for what had to be the millionth time in the past twenty-four hours and just like all of the rest, I was completely powerless to stop them. 

"Can't you tell I'm in pain?" 

With the conclusion of my outburst, a slightly awkward silence settled upon the room, the crinkle of the chip bags that still crinkled in Theon's giant arms doing nothing to cut through the tension. Gaia was the first to talk, pocketing her paperclip before pushing off the wall and making her way toward me. She settled down onto my bed next to me before she spoke, moving slowly as if I could snap at any moment. Which... admittedly may have been a reasonably fair assumption, given my current circumstances that left me teetering precariously on the edge of losing it completely.

 "We heard," Although still monotone as ever, Gaia's voice was surprisingly soft, taking on a gentle edge that was just as rare for her to use as it was for the sun to fall out of the sky. 

My chest tightened as I looked at her, unable to say anything as tears filled my throat again. At this rate, I was going to cry out all of the fluids in my body but then Theon stepped forward, concern creasing his brow. 

"Yeah. And I was worried about you, squirt," he paused, taking the opportunity to take a seat on my other side, dropping his horde of snacks on the duvet beside him. 

"We all were." 

"Well, not me. I never worry," Nuri took the opportunity to interject in his typical, against-the-grain fashion, 

"But I might admit that hearing about what happened gave me a renewed sense of urgency to finally figure out how to complete my seance circle and finally summon a proper demon to help fuck up whoever hurt your guy." 

At that, the smallest hint of a somewhat pleasurable feeling began to intermingle with the dread and horror and pain that threatened to pull me under and before I even knew it, the corner of my lips were twitching up into the ghost of a smile, a barely-there thing that probably rivaled the pitiful ones Papa barely managed to conjure up when he was really, really happy but of course, being fellow siblings who shared the same fathers, they were all quick to notice even the smallest hint of change in my features. 

"There it is," Nuri grinned once more, kneeling at the side of my bed and resting his chin atop his heavily ringed fingers. 

I was grateful that he didn't reach over to touch or hug me like he usually would, seeing as to how I honestly wasn't sure if I could tolerate any physical contact outside of my mate, Dad or Papa right now. 

"That's all that we were trying to do. We know this must be really fucking hard for you right now. And... we just wanted to see if we could cheer you up a little, that's all."

 "Well, that and to bring you some comfort snacks. We thought you probably wouldn't have an appetite, but..." Theon added, trailing off as if he didn't exactly know how to finish his sentence. 

Either way, his thoughtfulness shone through. Yet another beat of silence, this time soft, passed before I sobered up good enough to shove a few words through my teeth. Still, they came out as a sob. 

“I... I don't even know his name," I looked down at my hands absently just for something to cling onto. 

"And what if," I gulped. 

"What if I never know it? What if he dies without even knowing that I exist? Without knowing that I cried for him? That I fought for him? That I already care about him so damn much?" I shivered through a brief pause. 

"I always imagined what it would be like to finally meet him. I'd dreamed of that magical moment more times than I could possibly count," my voice lowered, burdened with emotion. 

"But not like this. Never... never like this." 

I didn't have to look to feel the empathetic gazes of my siblings from where they all surrounded me and when they did each place one of their hands inside of my own, my skin didn't crawl as much as I expected it to. So, closing my fingers, I held tight. They didn't say anything. They didn't need to. Their touch said it all. 

"I love you guys," I rasped, lifting my head back up to give each of them a long glance. 

"I really, really do." 

Their resounding 'we love you too's that echoed around the room were truly wonderful but with one final squeeze, I let them know what I really needed. 

"I'll be alright. I just... need time to process." I explained, giving them a tight-lipped look that I initially thought I could finesse into somewhat of a smile but judging by the looks on their faces and the fact that it felt more like a grimace, that endeavor failed just as miserably as I felt inside. 

"Alright," Theon nodded, using his oldest sibling privileges to gesture to Gaia and Nuri that it was time to go. 

"We're right down the hall if you need anything though, alright? Seriously." 

"Yeah, anything you need." Nuri seconded, to which Gaia echoed with a monotone... 

"Ditto." 

With a few hasty shuffles and a few curses that definitely meant that they'd caused a pileup outside of the door, my siblings were gone and I was right back where I'd started, staring at a random point in my room as I tried my best to focus on staying alive. In addition to my garden, my room had also always been a safe space for me, a sanctuary I'd meticulously crafted over the years. The hand-knitted macrame baskets that hung from my walls and ceiling were my favorite, filling my ceiling with a natural canopy of draping vines and indoor plants that never failed to make me feel at peace, especially when I didn't have a chance to get out to tend to my vegetables in the garden and my bumblebee nightlight, one of the main things I'd refused to give up since childhood, still projected weakly onto the light olive-green wall across from me. 

Yet, as I swallowed down yet another whimper of despair, I couldn't help but feel as if those same walls that once brought me solace were steadily closing in, constraining my mind and imprisoning my spirit and as it happened, I found the rest of me as nothing but a hopeless observer, as if my physical form stood completely apart, unable to make a connection to the agony unraveling within. Eventually, I turned away from the door, unable to handle the prospect of what was to await me on the other side and, curling into myself so tightly that my knees nearly touched my nose, I buried my face into the pillow that I still held and prayed. 

‘I will never ask for anything else ever again. Just... Please, Goddess, if you can hear me, let him live.’ 

[earlgreydream]

after.

| loki x reader | smut | fluff |

anon requested. loki, but he's so rough during sex, it hurts, and aftercare is absolute bliss afterwards? & AFTERCARE WITH LOKI 

a/n: I’m combining these requests. love dom!loki and soft!loki

cw: dark!loki, sliiiiight dubcon (consensual), aggression, general rough smut, spanking, light anal play, brief exhibitionism, mild degradation, implied subspace, etc

“Are you about done acting out?” Loki asked you, his lips just below your ear, sending chills down your spine. You were sat on his lap on the throne, and you’d spent the last hour or so grinding against him while he was trying to have important meetings with Thor and the royal guard.

“I don’t think so,” you confessed, biting back a smile. You were enjoying riling him up, getting revenge for the many times Loki had tortured and teased you. 

“My darling, my patience with your disobedience is wearing thin,” Loki warned, and you rolled back, putting significant pressure on his rock-hard length below you.

Loki made a throaty noise, and Thor cut off mid-sentence. 

“Continue, brother,” Loki ordered, and Thor gave the two of you a look before he continued speaking. Loki’s hands gripped your waist, trying to keep you from squirming and rubbing your ass against him. 

“If you do not stop, I will fuck you on this throne in front of this entire room of people. You want to be seen acting like a whore so bad, I’ll let you.”

His words echoed down your spine, and your face heated, a visible blush spreading across your skin. You felt his dark laughter against your back, pleased with the way the threat suddenly turned you shy.

His knees pushed your legs apart and you were shaking your head, pleading soft apologies to Loki. Your confidence and deviance crumbled, and you were weak at his fingertips. You very suddenly came to regret your actions, and Loki hummed against your shoulder, warning you against trying to close your legs.

Thor kept speaking, but his eyes narrowed as Loki’s hand moved to your front, very openly cupping your sex in your skirt, in front of everyone. Your skin was burning, the heat spreading over your body in a blazing fire of need and embarrassment.

“Loki...” you whimpered, and he hushed you. Thor tripped over his words as Loki pushed two fingers inside of you, and you squeezed your eyes shut, unable to look at Thor watching Loki play with you. You knew what to say to stop Loki, but you couldn’t, because a sick part of you was secretly enjoying this.

A strangled whimper escaped you as Loki pushed his fingers forward particularly hard. Thor stopped speaking completely, watching Loki’s glistening fingers slide in and out of your soaked pussy. You hadn’t worn any panties under your dress, wanting to work Loki up as much as possible.

Truly, you hadn’t expected to be punished like this. Loki wasn’t often a fan of public humiliation, but seeing how wet it made you, and how you suddenly got shy and obedient was all the convincing it took.

You bit your lip fiercely, struggling to keep from squealing and crying out. Loki mouthing along your neck, whispering filthy things in your ear about Thor watching you get your pussy filled with his fingers, didn’t help you stay quiet and still.

“Loki, please,” you were begging, what for, you weren’t sure.

“Please what, little one?” Loki was going to make you work for it. Your whole body tensed as the coil tightened in your belly, Loki’s fingers stroking the spot that had your mind shutting down.

“I need to come,” your plea came out much louder than intended, but it made no difference, everyone in the room had their eyes locked on you since this started.

“Go on then, scream my name to all of our subjects, let them know who you belong to.”

The coil snapped and you orgasmed with a scream, Loki’s name echoing through the high ceilings of the throne room. Your legs were shaking and you grabbed his forearms to steady yourself, your release dripping down your thighs and onto Loki’s lap.

A high pitched shriek was ripped from you when Loki slapped your sensitive core, and you jolted from the sting. Even Thor flinched slightly, and your breath caught in your throat as he spanked your pussy a second time, drawing out your humiliation and adding pain to the punishment. Tears threatened to roll down your cheeks, and Loki mocked your embarrassment.

“Shy, little one? You didn’t seem so shy when you were misbehaving all evening.”

“I’m not done with you,” he whispered in your ear, picking you up and draping you over his shoulder. Your skirt was still flipped up, revealing your ass and slick, swollen cunt to everyone you walked by. The tears were now falling freely, and you squirmed helplessly.

Loki slapped where your ass met the back of your thigh, leaving a handprint, the sound bouncing off of the walls. You cried out in pain as he squeezed the area before carrying you through the throne room.

“We’ll have to finish this meeting later!” Loki called after himself, parading you through the halls as he took you to his chambers. When you started to speak to apologize, he spanked you, not wanting to hear it.

Loki practically threw you on the bed, and he tore off your dress, leaving you naked. His own clothes vanish in a glimmer of green, and you were caught under his sadistic, predatory gaze.

“On your knees,” Loki commanded, and you scrambled to obey, kneeling before him as he leaned against a golden wall. Magic bound your hands behind your back, and the tip of Loki’s cock brushed your lips.

“If you resist me, I’ll let Thor use your mouth next,” Loki threatened, getting you to immediately open your mouth so he could slip inside.

His pale fingers threaded into your hair and found a grip, holding you steady as he fucked your throat. Tears rolled down your cheeks faster than before, and all you could do was kneel before your king and take him. You did your best to please him, hollowing your cheeks and humming around him, trying to get him to come faster. You were choking and unable to breathe, and the feeling of your struggle had Loki coming in hot ribbons down your throat, shooting his seed straight into your tummy.

You gasped for air, heaving oxygen into your lungs when he pulled out, your head dropping forward as you caught your breath.

“You will not disobey me again.” Loki smacked your cheek lightly and you immediately answered.

“No, Loki.”

His hand wrapped around your arm and he lifted you to your feet, your hands becoming free from the bonds. You thought you were free until he hauled you onto the bed, your wrists being secured to the headboard as you laid on your stomach. Fear prickled up your spine, knowing your punishment wasn’t over.

You’d learned your lesson about teasing Loki and being disobedient, and after this you swore to yourself you’d never do it again.

“I’m sorry, Loki,” your voice was quiet, and Loki looked at you silently.

“Pull your knees to your chest,” he ordered, and you did so before letting your head fall back down onto the duvet.

He stared at you, bent over and exposed for him, prolonging your anxious anticipation. He moved behind you, out of your view. You felt the bed dip behind you, Loki kneeling on the bed, his hands resting on your hips for a moment. He traced the red handprint on your ass, making you twitch slightly at the touch.

Something cold and made of metal slid through your folds, making you jump.

“I’ll slap you if you move again,” Loki’s tone was stern, and you held still, wondering what the tear-shaped object was for. He gathered your arousal on it, and you jerked your hands fruitlessly against the magic as he pressed it lightly to your tight ring of muscle.

Barely a second passed before his hand connected with your skin, leaving another stinging handprint on your backside.

“I’m sorry, I don’t need it, I’ll behave,” you promised, stumbling over your words as you weakly protested the metal being slowly pushed into your ass.

“I know you don’t need it, but I want to see your pretty hole stretch around this gold plug,” Loki’s voice dripped with sadistic pleasure, sending shivers through your body.

You hid your face in the duvet, fighting not to squirm away as he slowly pressed it inside of you. The feeling was foreign and uncomfortable, and incredibly shameful. Your body betrayed you, displaying your cunt growing wetter as Loki eased it all the way inside of you. A choked whine of pain tumbled from your lips, but you didn’t use your safe word. You hated the feeling of being stretched but you knew you deserved it for your misbehavior, and you didn’t want to object to Loki.

He leaned back on his heels and admired you, the gold peeking out of your slightly trembling body. He watched you shake from a mixture of embarrassment, discomfort, overstimulation, and utter and complete ecstasy, a devious smile pulling at his lips.

He was painfully hard again, and he very much intended to tear you up before forgiving your transgressions. His anger has now faded, though he was enjoying scaring you a healthy amount. He enforced his rules, and taught you what happened when you disobeyed.

You knew he wouldn’t be merciful and let you off, and you were thankful he’d let you come at his fingers, even if it was in the presence of the throne room.

You laid in front of Loki, moaning loudly as he fucked into you with one thrust. Your muscles burned as they stretched to try to accommodate his size, but he offered no reprieve before snapping his hips against yours, railing you. He pushed on the gold, a choked scream tearing from your throat as your mind melted from the sensation of being painfully full.

You couldn’t help but cry as Loki brutally fucked you, abusing your aching core as he hit your cervix, buried deeper in you than you thought possible. You were choking on oxygen, your mind completely empty as you took him in, searching for pleasure.

The pain of how hard he was fucking you had tears flowing thick down your cheeks and choked whimpers escaping you. Loki brought a hand around to your clit, taking pity on you and giving you some relief to the sharp pain. 

“You’re so fucking sexy, taking me so well, like a good, obedient slut,” Loki finally offered you some praise, even if it was slightly degrading.

The words soothed over your fright, and your eyes rolled back as he slammed into you, your mind fading. His thrusts became less rhythmic, his hips stuttering. You were familiar with the feeling, and in a few seconds, you felt him spill into you, pumping you full of his release and coating your aching walls with the sticky white seed. You sighed softly in relief as he pulled the metal from you, tossing it aside. He slowly eased out of your sex, his magic dissolving the bonds on your wrists.

You fell limp once you were no longer restrained, and Loki admired your fucked-out body. Your mind was cloudy and a shudder wracked your body as you adjusted to the sudden relief.

“Little one,” Loki spoke softly, the usual gentleness returning to his voice. His hands smoothed gently up your back, green sparks penetrating into your muscles and dissolving some of the ache. 

You hummed weakly, acknowledging Loki calling out his term of endearment for you. Your breath caught as he flipped you onto your back, and you winced as the aching between your legs became a painful throb, the endorphins wearing off.

“Let me see those pretty eyes,” Loki’s fingers tenderly brushed over your cheek, and you opened your eyes to gaze up at him. 

“We’re going to get you cleaned up, alright? It’s over now,” Loki leaned down and kissed you, his lips soft against yours. You weakly wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer and hugging him. 

“I need you to speak, darling.”

“I love you,” you whispered hoarsely, your voice raspy from Loki brutalizing your throat. He laughed softly, kissing your cheek and wiping the remaining tears that were staining your skin.

“I love you more than all of the stars.”

You whimpered as he lifted you, carrying to into the basin and stepping in with you. The warm water engulfed your body, filled with salts and oils from the finest markets of Asgard. Loki rested you against his broad chest, careful of your muscles. 

He lifted a glass from a small table next to the tub, putting it to your lips and urging you to drink the water. You ignored the soreness in your throat and leaned back against Loki’s stable body, swallowing the contents of the glass. Loki took his time cleaning you up, gently lathering your body with sweet-scented soaps. 

He massaged your head as he washed your hair, brushing his fingers through the locks. You’d been turned around for that, your forehead resting on his shoulder as he worked shampoo and conditioner through your hair. He’d pestered you to eat some of the grapes from a bowl nearby, kissing your forehead and praising you. 

“I’m sorry for teasing,” you apologized softly, and Loki gently adjusted you so you were looking up at him. He tilted your chin up, gazing down at you with love and lightly pecking your lips before speaking.

“I’m not angry. You don’t need to be sorry anymore,” he promised, holding you in his arms, trying to snap you out of your foggy headspace.

You protested to being lifted out of the bath, and Loki hushed you gently, drying you off and helping you into silk clothing. Your legs were weak and you held onto Loki’s arms as you stood by the hearth. He helped you onto the lounger, snuggling you into his chest and handing you a piece of bread with honey drizzled over it. You ate it and curled up into your warm lover, basking in his attention as he cared for you. He lifted a book from the table and began to read to you, his smooth voice lulling you into dreams. He pressed into your mind, filling your head with sweet thoughts and guarding you against nightmares. 

He listened to your steady heartbeat as he played with your hair and the fabric draped over your body. He loved how sweet and cuddly you got after sex, blissed-out and your mind empty except for a desire to be close to him. He adored you, and everything about you, and these moments of closeness were his favorite. 

[kingdaddydaichi]

NSFW Alphabet || Katsuki Bakugou

I had so much fun with this! Vodka may or may not have been involved in the making of this little ditty. 🍸 I hope you shameless hussies enjoy reading it as much as I did writing it. 😩

*Exhibit A:

(Source)

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

I feel like he gets clingy asf, but plays it off like it's something he's doing for your sake. He'll probably never admit that he feels so vulnerable after sex, but he does. If it was a rough session - which it usually is with him - he'll ask if you're okay, if you're hurt anywhere, kiss any marks he left on you - he's such a protective hero boi.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

His: he's not gonna lie, he's fully aware of how well-endowed he is. He really is proud of his cock, the way it makes you sing when he works it - and he knows how to work it okay? Favorite non-sexual body part - his arms. He works hard to keep them cut (as in lifting, not cutting). 😬

Yours: listen, Katsuki is an ass man through and through. Go ahead and tell me I'm wrong, I'm 👏🏼 not 👏🏼 listening 👏🏼. He loves to watch the subtle ripples he sends through your ass cheeks when he's driving into you from behind. Also, our big scary boomboom man appreciates a nice, thicc pair of thighs. Bonus points if they're muscular/toned - he loves the way it feels when your thighs have such a strong grip around him.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

Let's just say our boy's orgasms are explosive. He cums hard and loud, shooting long ropes of his hot seed. Consistency is about average, not too thick, not to thin, but there's a lot of it. He doesn't taste too bad - salty, but not too bitter. You're more likely to gag from the sheer volume and force of his cum hitting the back of your throat than the flavor.

His precum gets honorable mention here. It's fucking delicious. That is all.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

It took him no less than 2 years into your relationship to tell you this, and if you ever tell anyone he might actually kill you, or at the very least make your ass bleed. He hasn't gotten to the point that he's ready to try it yet, but he's not entirely opposed to the idea of you pegging him. Someday. It kinda does make his balls tingle a little just thinking about it tbh. He hasn't yet, but he thinks he might be ready to try working up to it and is really close to asking you to stick a finger in his ass and stroke his prostate. He's heard how good it feels and he's super curious to find out for himself.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Not very experienced, actually. He's only had 1 or 2 lovers before you, BUT he's determined to be #1 at everything. Couple that with how perceptive he is and you've got yourself a winner of a loverboy. He's going to make damn sure that, even if things don't work out between you two, he will always ALWAYS be the best you've ever had. No other man will outdo him, E-V-E-R.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Doggystyle all the way, baby. As stated before, he loves watching your booty jiggle every time he slams his hips against it. He gets off on spreading your ass cheeks to watch his slick-coated cock slide in and out of you. God he just loves hitting it from behind, makes his dick so fucking hard.

Bonus 2nd Favorite Position (couldn't help myself): you on your back with your ankles on his shoulders, your ass lifted off the bed, him on his knees and hugging those thick thighs of yours, keeping them closed as he reams into you. (Slight variation of this one: he leans over you, nearly folding you in half, putting you back on your shoulders with his hands pressing into the mattress beside you, angling you such that his prominent corona rubs over your g-spot as he drills down into you. 10/10 you're gonna scream his name when (not if) your liquid gushes all over him.)

Tell me the truth, am I a disgusting human being? Here are all the fucks I give:

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

Bakugou is serious asf about his sex game. This is not the time to joke around or poke fun at him, understand me? If you do he will get pissed and either fuck the silly out of you, or if he's feeling particularly ruthless he'll just stop altogether and let you ache for him as punishment until you beg him for release.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

He takes care of his body, paying a lot of attention to his hygiene, which includes manscaping to keep his pubic hair trimmed and kempt. The carpet's just a shade darker than the drapes, like a honey blond. If he lets it grow out, it sticks straight out just like his head hair. It's actually kind of funny and he hates it.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

*sigh* Let's be honest. Katsuki is not the super romantic type, at least not outwardly. However, if he realizes something he's doing is hurting you - physically or emotionally - he's going to stop dead in his tracks and hold you close, push his fingers through your hair, and tell you how much he loves you and how safe you are. He can be rough and he can be an asshole, but if he thinks he's genuinely hurt you at all, he's all over you, doing everything he can to make you understand that he will never let anyone hurt you, especially not himself. Got that?

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

He doesn't jack off very often. You two share a very active sex life so he doesn't see the need to. If you have to be apart for more than a day or two, he'll rub one out. Or if the need hits him particularly hard and you're not available or in the mood, he's not above closing his eyes and reaching into his pants to wrap his thick fingers around his cock and start tugging.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Lord Baby Jesus, where do I even begin? Kinky, kinky Katsuki. This man should come with warning signs and disclaimers.

First of all, he dom asf okay? Even if he lets you play with his ass someday, he's gonna be bratty about it. He's going to top from the bottom, hashtag facts. And trust that he WILL own you afterwards to securely reestablish his dominance.

Giving and Receiving: Hair pulling. DIRTY TALK - you think he's got a potty mouth in the streets? His mouth is downright filthy between the sheets. Loves it when you dirty talk right back to him. "You love taking my fat cock, don't you princess?" "Mm yessss, fuck me, Katsuki! Your cock feels so fucking good babyyy!" He eats that shit up.

Giving Only: Degradation. Praise. Spanking. Cockwarming. Dom/sub/power play. Shibari/ropework (he tried it bc you wanted to and he fucking loved it). Creampies. Begging. Discipline. Ravishment.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Literally anywhere inside your home/homes - bed, bathroom/kitchen countertops, kitchen/dining table, office desk/chair, any piece furniture is fair game really, up against a wall, washer/dryer, the fucking floor, ugh just all the places to fuck. Not one square foot is sacred tbh.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Wear something that showcases the curve of your butt. Doesn't have to be revealing per se, matter of fact he'll get possessive as fuck if you're showing too much skin in public. At home/privately though? He can't help himself. Dat ass tho...he is going to smack it hard enough that it stings and that's final, understand?

Tease him. You can't be obvious about it though. If he senses that you're doing it on purpose, it'll just backfire. But if you just so happen to brush against his crotch when you squeeze past him, it'll drive him crazy. Go commando in short shorts/skirt and cross your legs just so, his dick will twitch. Even better if you do shit like this in public where you know he won't act on it. But when you get home you best believe he's going to dick you down so hard, won't even bother to take said shorts or skirt off.

His ears and neck are his most sensitive erogenous zones. Whisper in his ear or kiss his neck and he's going to grit his teeth in an effort to fight back the shudder that threatens to rattle his bones.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Let's get one thing straight. Katsuki Bakugou does not share. This is non-negotiable. He will not agree to anything involving additional people - cuckolding, threesomes, orgies, exhibitionism, voyeurism (unless it's him watching you pleasure yourself - that he will gladly do, and probably start palming himself in the process).

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Loves giving and receiving. Giving puts him in full control of your pleasure, receiving makes him feel like you're worshipping his cock, which you probably are. Have you seen this man's cock? Of course you have. Gatdamn.

Y'all, Katsuki's so good at eating pussy. Like how does one get that good at eating pussy? I don't even know, but god the way he flicks his hot tongue over your precious, tiny bud before wearing it down like a fucking feed bag? It's unnatural. Like it could be his backup quirk if blowing shit up doesn't work out. You've seen the way he licks his lips when he gets excited, everyone has.* He doesn't even bother swallowing while he's feeding on you so you just be dripping in slick and saliva and he's just slurping away. It's lewd.

*See Exhibit A above.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

You already know this, but I'll say it anyway. His go-to fucking style is fast and rough, dominant and relentless, hard and dirty. But every once in a while he'll want to take you slow and deep and passionate. He'll hold you so tight in his arms and chest, you'll have to tap his shoulder sometimes to let you breathe. And he'll just roll his hips so fucking thoroughly both of you will feel every last inch, his pubic bone rubbing your clit so hard. You've told him so many times how much you love it when he makes love to you like this, but he maybe makes it a rare treat on purpose. 😈 Little shit.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Quickies are difficult for our boy. It's not that he's against them, it's just that he savors every drop of sensuality, he has a tendency to draw the pleasure out as long as possible. He can’t help it.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

The idea of having public sex turns him on, but he's only done it with you a couple of times when he was 10000% sure you wouldn't be caught. He can't risk doing anything that would tarnish his reputation and goal of becoming the #1 Hero. He might be freaky as hell, but he needs a sex scandal like an Alaskan needs a refrigerator.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

He loves you long time. He's a Taurus for fuck's sake (well, Aries/Taurus cuspie, but that just sweetens the deal). Great stamina. Grinds you down like a whetstone. Can last as long as he needs to to ensure you cum for him as many times as it takes for you to beg him to stop. If he feels himself getting too close while you're blowing him, he'll stop you and go down on you instead. If he's inside of you, he'll pull out and start kissing all over your body, sucking, nipping, licking until his urge to cum passes, then he pushes it right back in and keeps going.

If on the off-chance he does cum before you, he'll be ready to go again in about 20-30 mins. Just give him some motivation, he deserves it.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

He didn't own any toys when you first got together, but you did. He hated the idea of you using them though, especially when he's right there with you. You've since assured him that you don't want to use them to replace him, but to enhance the pleasure. So now you do use them from time to time.

The first time you managed to coax him into using a toy together, it was a small wireless bullet with a remote. When you brought it out and showed it to him, there was a wild glint in his eye. He carefully inserted the vibrator into you, his cock slowly following suit. He loved the fact that he had complete control over this thing, but later complained because the sensation of it against the head of his cock made him cum too fast. He still wants to use it sometimes though. 😏

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Oh he can be so unfair. He loves teasing you until you're begging him to put his cock inside you. He's not so much into orgasm denial per se; he just loves to hear you beg him for shit - to let you cum, to suck his dick, to stop fucking you when you're overstimmed, etc.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Lol he's fucking LOUD! And he's going to make you cum so hard that you're screaming his fucking name. There was a time when one or both of you lived in an apartment and the neighbors would bang on the wall behind your headboard.

Shit, what sounds does he NOT make? He growls, moans, grunts, groans, yells, swears, fucks you so hard you can hear the wet sound of slapping skin, hell even the bed protests. Another reason he doesn't fuck in public - he can't stay quiet enough to be discreet about it.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

Okay, as much of a wild sex beast as he is behind closed doors, he gets embarrassed so easily when your sex life is so much as hinted at around others. It's legit funny how flustered he gets about it.

If he goes into work real tired and Kirishima says, "Hey Bakubro, you look like shit this morning. You and (y/n) stay up too late?" while doing the finger in the hole gesture, Katsuki will just "Shut the fuck up, Shitty Hair, or I'll blast your ass right through that fucking wall!"

Or if you two go out together with friends and the girls are talking about sex-related stuff, Katsuki will just roll his eyes and try to ignore it. But if one of them is all "So, (y/n), does Bakugou ever like accidentally let off explosions while you're doing it?" and you wink and say, "Only when he's especially *cough* frustrated *cough*". Katsuki will go red from his neck up to his hairline and start stuttering, sparks flying from his palms. "H-hey, d-don't tell them sh-shit like that! I-it's none of their god-goddamn b-business, (y/n), what th-the f-fuck?!" Meanwhile, you and the girls are in stitches while he stomps away, just mortified, bless his heart. When you catch your breath from laughing you'll follow it up with, "Looks like tonight's gonna be one of those nights", and you all lose it again.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

As has been mentioned, Bakugou's well-endowed. I figure he's packing about 7.5-8" in length x just under 2" wide. He takes some getting used to, that's for damn sure. Oh, and he's more of a shower than a grower. Like around 6" long x 1.5" wide when flaccid. Katsuki + sweatpants/basketball shorts = swinging dick print, alright sis? Take notes, this motherfucker visibly jumps when he does, class dismissed.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Eh, he's surprisingly not ridiculously horny. Maybe a little above average sex drive? A lot of times hero work just takes it out of him and he comes home utterly exhausted and just needs a soft place to land, and you provide him with all the love and nurturing in your heart. ❤

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Depends, really, on the time of day and what type of day it's been. If it's late (like past 9pm lol) and he fought more villains than usual that day, he's probs gonna pass out pretty soon after. If it's earlier in the day - especially first thing in the morning - it gets him pumped and almost comically genki.

[alstroemeriadissonance]

Teacher and student. (NSFW)

WARNING: NSFW. MC x Marius and Vyn (I know. omg)

This is dedicated to the thirsty hoes of the ToTNSFW Discord chat (if you're 18 or above please join the degeneracy here in the reddit, you can find our Discord there ^^)

It's not apparent but Marius is my second favorite next to Vyn. I've been trying to come up with a plausible scenario where this happens so...here it is...

I swear I'll go back to SFW NXX / Vynposting and asks soon. The urge to write this is just too strong ^^;

You think you're above hooking up in public places.

In fact, you have never hooked up with a guy anywhere, not even in the privacy of your own apartment.

So when your newly-minted boyfriend, Marius, steals you away from the lecture hall where you are working as teaching assistant for Dr. Richter--only to pull you into a deserted classroom in a secluded area somewhere in Stellis University--you are quite surprised that the hot and heavy campus hook up you thought you totally missed out on is finally happening right this very moment.

"Marius. Von. Hagen." Your voice trembles slightly.

"Yes, Missy?" Marius is gently pushing you onto the dusty lecturer's table set against the wall of the abandoned classroom. With a grunt he lifts you by your hips and seats you on the table, the dust smudging the fabric of your white skirt.

"Come on. I've waited too far long enough," he whispers urgently. "I want you now." His voice comes out in a low growl.

Gone is the annoying hammed up little brother act that he usually does around you.

Marius easily towers over your small frame; he bends over you, dipping his head to yours to take your kiss. His lips capturing your trembling ones, his tongue slipping inside; entwining with yours in such need and such urgency that you are left breathless and panting as soon as you break off from his deep kiss.

"Delicious," he whispers as your lips part, a thin thread of saliva stretching out between both your lips until it breaks and dissipates. "Like candy."

"Are you sure we're doing this?" You whisper nervously, your eyes flitting to the sliding door of the classroom.

"Mhm." His hands slip inside your blouse, pawing at your breasts through your bra. "Don't worry Missy--no one will disturb us here."

"Ahn--how can you be sure?" You bite your lip as Marius lifts your bra underneath your blouse, the rough skin of his palms running over your nipples and teasing them to sensitive peaks.

"I've been going here to take naps whenever I play hooky." Marius, feeling a little bold and wanting to prove how safe it is to have your very first tryst in his secret place in the university, lifts your blouse by the hem and easily pulls it off over your shoulders.

"You're real cute, Missy Lawyer," he drawls as his eyes hungrily takes in the sight of your bare torso, your bra pushed up to your collarbone, breasts in full view for his enjoyment. "Has anyone ever told you that?"

Marius then gathers you in his arms to pull you close, your naked breasts pressed against him, locking his lips with yours once again to devour you in another kiss.

The quiet of the classroom is broken with the wet sounds of your torrid kissing, and your occasional sighs.

Despite your nervousness your hands flit to his shirt, fingers clutching at the fabric in an effort to pull him even closer to you as you return his kisses.

"Hmm? Enjoying this already?" Marius coos as he beholds your flushed face, your eyes heavily clouded with your desire.

"Mhn...Marius, maybe we should stop," your voice comes out in a moan, despite you desperately trying to cling to that last sliver of common sense inside you screaming at you to stop, that your encounter is totally not worth risking getting caught and having to deal with rather heavy consequences...

"Ehehe, but aren't you enjoying it?" His hands now creep up your thighs, slipping underneath the cover of your billowy white skirt. The tips of his long, artful fingers slowly run their sweet, tantalizing course from your knee up to the edge of your inner thighs, eliciting another ragged sigh from your lips.

Marius lets a knuckle gently graze the crotch of your panties. "I can feel you're wet now," he murmurs into your ear, sweetly. "Sure don't wanna do it?"

"Oh god." It is a hard decision to make. But a decision has to be made. So you say,

"Fine. But let's make it quick."

"Mm. Good girl." Marius purrs as he carries you to the corner farthest away from the door, gently laying you onto a desk long enough that you can stretch out with only your lower legs dangling off the edge.

You can hear him panting as he gathers your white skirt around your hips to expose your panties. "Polka dots? That's so cute." Marius playfully thumbs the garter of your underwear. "And so you."

He then pulls your panties down to one of your ankles, freeing one of your legs so he can hook it over his shoulder as he kneels in between your thighs.

Playfully he gently blows onto your moist slit, his eyes taking in and, probably with his artistic curiosity, studying lines and folds of your glistening sex.

"Hahh...I've long wanted to do something like this, you know?" Marius groans, and then you feel the tip of his tongue grazing your clit. "Missy, I know this maybe the wrong time to ask but...how am I doing?" You feel his lips and tongue kissing the tip of your clit, lightly sucking at it.

"Am I doing it right?"

You bite your finger in an attempt to stifle the loud moan that threatens to spill out. "Marius," you gasp. "Y-yeah. That felt good."

"You would know that you are on the right track judging by the reactions of your partner," says a very familiar voice just a few paces away from you both.

You freeze and instinctively try to cover yourself with your arms.

"Goddamnit. What are you doing here, Vyn?" Marius growls at the intruder.

Dr. Vyn Richter leans against a folded partition that was used to divide the classroom to two different sections. His arms are crossed, a class folder tucked underneath an arm.

But instead of a look of disapproval he looks at you both with a knowing grin on his face.

"Oh, nothing much. I was just..."

You feel Dr. Richter's gaze linger on you. On your naked body, to be exact.

"...Passing through. But I jest. I followed you two because I still had business with my assistant."

"So what, are you going to report us?" Marius instinctively tries to cover you by standing in between you and his tutor.

Dr. Richter idly inspects his fingernails. "Nothing so crude, I assure you." Then he looks up at the both of you again, putting his hands into the pockets of his lab coat. "I will gain nothing out of that, and I do not care for policing morals."

"Then why are you still here?"

The professor smiles cryptically, remaining silent for a moment. Then, after a thought, he gives his answer.

"It just so happens that I have taken a liking to my lovely teaching assistant for some time now," he admits, to the shock of both you and Marius. "Given that she is already taken by you, Marius, I would like to obtain some closure by watching you take her...in front of me.

"I know how much you hate me, Marius," Dr. Richter says, his lips twisted in a smile not quite reaching his eyes. "So do you not think this is the best opportunity for you to get back at me?"

Marius could only stare at his tutor, mouth agape.

"Goddamnit Vyn. You're fucking mad."

"A lot of people who are well acquainted with me also think similarly, yes."

Marius then turns to look at you, somehow expecting you to decline and put a stop to the strange development.

But, to his utter surprise, you lock gazes with the professor that you have been assisting, the psychiatrist Dr. Richter, the exotic-looking, silver-haired man who you have been spending some time with visiting gardens, art galleries, symposiums...

You didn't want to admit it, but you have been carrying a small crush on him for some time now. So the reason why he had been inviting me to all of those events...

Were they supposed to be dates?

Have I missed seeing his intentions all these time?

Rosa. You goddamn dolt.

"I..." You begin, trying to form your words as your eyes do not leave Dr. Richter's mysteriously smiling gaze. "...I do not mind it this time.

"You wouldn't tell on us, will you, Dr. Richter?"

"Of course not."

"And you'll corroborate our...statements should we be questioned about this?"

"Of course I will."

You then look up at Marius, wordlessly asking for his input.

It is all up to him them, to either put a stop to this strange nonsense or go ahead and have a hot sexual encounter with the man that could have been your boyfriend instead of Marius. You of course do not voice this out loud. Marius nor Dr. Richter does not have to know your regret.

Marius blinks, and then makes his decision.

"Fuck, let's give Vyn a show then."

Vyn then pulls a chair and settles himself to a front-row seat to a lewd show starring you.

===

Marius once again kneels between your thighs, his tongue slowly moving up and down the length of your slit, getting intimate with the folds of your sex. The folds, the creases, the smooth flesh, he commits these details into memory for a possible future work of art.

"You may want to insert two fingers inside her, Marius," Dr. Richter says in a tone he usually assumes during instruction, only in a softer volume. "Make her moan even louder."

"What the hell Vyn, are you trying to run the show?"

Dr. Richter lets out a short laugh. "No. I am just...throwing out suggestions." He then props an elbow on the chair's armrest, letting his chin rest on his hand.

It is as if he is closely watching his student's practical demonstration and secretly grading him.

To your immense surprise, Marius does as Dr. Richter suggests: he slips in two fingers inside, your inner muscles eagerly pulling on his digits as Marius continues to suckle on your clit. The resulting pleasure coaxes a lewd moan out of your lips.

"Mhn...Marius, that's so good..."

"See? Just keep it up, Marius." Dr. Richter crosses his legs, and it becomes apparent that he himself is aroused--there is a noticeable tent in the crotch of his khaki pants--and he does not make any move to hide it at all.

Then it slowly comes, the impending flood of sensations that precede orgasm, and as Marius continues to assault your sensitive bud with his tongue while at the same time fucking you with his fingers you are sent over the edge, your thighs suddenly pulling Marius closer by the neck as you ride out your climax.

You do not know whose name to call out as you come--so you resort to biting your finger instead, stifling your moans.

"Wonderful, simply wonderful," Dr. Richter murmurs thoughtfully as he watches you.

"Well, aren't you turned on." Marius remarks. "Are you satisfied now, Vyn?"

"If I am to be perfectly honest, no, Marius. I want to lay my hands on her, I want to kiss her, and I actually want to rail my lovely assistant senseless," Dr. Richter replies matter-of-factly, as if he is merely rattling off notes to be jot down.

"In other words, I would like to fuck her, if I may be so crude." His gold eyes gradually lose the usual luster that mark his amiable mirth.

You are surprised by the words that Marius says after.

"Fine then, Vyn. You get fifteen minutes."

You actually sit up when he says it. "Marius...what are you...?"

Marius grins. "Oh don't worry about me, I just think this voyeurism kink is pretty hot."

"Well then." Dr. Richter rises from his seat and makes his way towards the desk you are currently sitting on. "Marius did not ask you if you are okay with this arrangement," he says pointedly, throwing his student a cool side eye over his shoulder.

Marius snorted. "Hypocrite."

Dr. Richter ignores the comment. "...but are you okay with this, Rosa?"

You could only look at his eyes, then at Marius, then back at Dr. Richter's slightly unnerving smile once again.

"I have to admit this is...strange, but. Dr. Richter?"

"Yes, Rosa?"

"Please promise me this will not change our working relationship. Or our friendship, even."

"Of course. I promise."

Marius tsk's at your exchange. "Time's ticking Vyn."

Dr. Richter then gathers you in his arms. "Shall we, then?"

You gulp, then nod wordlessly.

He pulls you in closer to him, enough that your lips lock in a deep kiss. You feel the professor's tongue probe your mouth, tasting you, getting to know how your tongue feels against his. His hands roam your body all the while, as if testing out how you feel under his touch.

Then he pulls away from your kiss, and he whispers to your ear "Call me by my name," before planting a wet kiss on your cheek. "Call me Vyn."

"Vyn it is then." Your voice trembles. You do not know how exactly you feel about him, but you somehow feel the familiar coil in the pit of your stomach--that feeling young girls have when they see their crush.

Vyn smiles gently as he peers at your face. "Dilated pupils," he says. He does not further elaborate--only that the grin on his face is tinged with something darker in nature.

He then dips his head to let his lips run down your neck, to your collarbone--marking you with a trail of small, wet kisses--and lets his lips go further down to capture your nipple and suck on it.

You could not help but moan out loud--and this time, you allow yourself to moan Vyn's name.

(If you could have seen Vyn's face as you moaned his name, you would see the look of utter triumph, of overwhelming confidence on his face as he helps himself to your breast.)

Vyn then looks up to Marius. "Marius," he calls out.

"Yeah?" his voice comes out husky--it is when you look at him that you realize that Marius was already jerking off to the sight of his tutor making out with his girlfriend.

Vyn raises an eyebrow at the realization as well. "Instead of passively watching us, you may take an active role in giving your girlfriend more...pleasure."

"Shit, Vyn." Marius murmurs. "Are you going to turn this into a threesome?"

"We are all willing participants, are we not?" Vyn lets his right hand glide over you wet arousal, the tips of his fingers tracing your slit. You find yourself grinding your hips closer to his tantalizing touch. "Focus on Rosa's sensitive spots that I could not attend to as I only have two hands and one mouth."

Marius groans, visibly getting even more turned on.

===

Eventually you find yourself in such a position that you wouldn't even dream of even if someone told you about it yesterday.

You are lying stomach down on the same desk, with Marius nailing you from behind. His thrusts come steady yet strong, pushing you harder onto the desk every time his cock drives deep inside you.

On the other end of the desk sits Vyn. "Take it in slow, and let your tongue glide on the shaft--aah, yes, that's it." The fingers of his left hand combs through your hair as he watches you take his erect cock into your mouth--he is currently instructing you how to perform a blowjob.

While the idea of a professor instructing you how to suck cock is strange enough, you actually appreciate that it is Vyn teaching you--his instruction is precise, direct, and completely, utterly shameless.

Vyn ignores the fact that you are being driven hard into the desk by Marius' pounding into your wet sex. "Grasp the base with your hand--yes, that's it--and suck gently on this spot--ah, perfect."

You probably have gotten it right somehow, as the hand that once gently combed your hair is now pressing your head down to drive more of his length into your throat.

"It feels good," Vyn says, his voice coming out ragged with pure desire. "Marius should be paying me extra in teaching you how to pleasure him."

"Hah, you wish," says Marius, never letting up his pounding into you.

Vyn bites his lower lip and motions for you to stop. "Ah...that's enough...you can stop now."

You find yourself moaning loudly soon as Vyn's length slips out of your mouth--it is the one thing that stopped you from crying, moaning out loud as you are getting pounded by your boyfriend from behind.

Immensely turned on by your cries, Marius is about to reach his climax. "Ah, shit...I was going to use rubber but fuck it, I'm going to come inside so Vyn wouldn't..."

"Really now," Vyn quips as he watches Marius lose himself and shoot his load directly into you. "I do not understand. Why would that turn me off from fucking her? You are such a child if you think you coming inside her first would discourage me from railing my lovely assistant."

It took Marius a full minute to recover himself before he could reply. "What? Even with my come inside her?"

"I do not see the problem. It comes with the territory of this..." Vyn looks at you. "...kind of sexual act."

"Well," Marius says. "Knock yourself out."

The tutor and the student then swap places, and Vyn settles between your thighs. He gently nudges you to lie on your back. "There, that should make it more comfortable for you, pet," Vyn murmurs as he pulls you closer by your thighs, wrapping your legs around his waist.

It is then you notice that he is still wearing his uniform, even his lab coat--only his pants are undone and slightly lowered to below his hlps.

You realize at that moment that you truly have a thing for uniforms--and the very sight of Dr. Vyn Richter between your legs, in his uniform almost makes you reach orgasm, but not quite.

He briefly rubs the tip of his erection against your slit heavily lubricated by the mixture of your own wetness and Marius's own come, then with one steady thrust he is fully hilted inside of you.

Before he moves, however, Vyn looks at Marius--who is only sitting on the edge of the desk near your head--disapprovingly. He tsks, reaching over to grab Marius' hands and roughly placing them over your breasts. "Work her up here," he instructs his student. "That is the reason why I had her lying on her back."

Marius surprisingly does not retort, and instead licks his lips as he paws your breasts. "Goddamn. This is actually turning out to be pretty hot."

"If that is your only takeaway, Marius, I'll knock points off your final grade."

"Fuck you, Vyn."

"Only Rosa can do that."

===

"So, Vyn," Marius says as he straightens out his clothing, making sure all buttons buttoned up, zippers closed. "Are you trying to steal my girlfriend?"

"Rosa is not just your girlfriend Marius." Vyn redoes his necktie and shrugs his coat back into place. "She is also an esteemed colleague of ours. Also are you really saying that to me while you were watching her riding me earlier?"

"Um. Marius, Vyn? I am still here, you know."

Your face is blushing heavily.

Marius laughs and gives you a peck on the cheek. "Sorry, love. I'm just worried some professor here in our school might try to steal you away from me."

"If said professor actually manages to steal Marius von Hagen's girlfriend despite all of his wealth, then the problem lies with the von Hagen brat, is it not? Vyn gently grasps one of your hands, and lifts it to his lips to plant a soft kiss on your knuckle.

And that is the start of your rather unconventional arrangement with Marius and his tutor.

[leiakenobi]

The Chick in Apt 56

Fandom: Ex Machina (2014) Pairing: Nathan Bateman/F!Reader Rating: Teen Word Count: 1.9k Summary: After your next-door neighbor leaves you a note about how he heard you having sex, the two of you unintentionally begin a written back-and-forth. Warnings: Innuendo, but no sexual situations. A/N: So neighbor AU Nathan has actually existed for the better part of a year through this lil headcanon post, but now here he finally is in fic form! I didn’t end up following the original headcanons too closely, but they were still very much on my mind while I was writing.

Cross-posted to AO3 here! I think this fic is more readable over there, but the whole thing is in this post below the cut as well.

——

[Yellow post-it note, affixed to door knocker] To the chick in apt 56— Don’t know if you’ve noticed, but our walls are thin as shit. And as much as I love the sound of a girl getting railed, I get up at 5 A.M., so if you could schedule future booty calls for a more reasonable hour, that’d be great.

 [Pink paper torn from memo pad, slid under door] Nathan— Sorry if it was difficult for you to listen to a woman actually experiencing some pleasure. I’ll be sure to cater to your busy schedule from now on. P.S. We’ve both been here for nearly two years. I know you know my name.

 [Yellow post-it note, haphazardly slapped above doorknob] Funny. Just keep it down please.

[Pale blue post-it note, covering peep hole] Girl in 56— Were you louder on purpose??? If so, thanks for thinking of me while you were fucking, but the least you could do is scream my name next time. Helps me finish.

 [Pink paper torn from memo pad, slid under door] Surely you’re too busy trying to get your beauty(?) sleep to jerk off to the sound of your neighbor fucking. How else would you get up in a timely manner to get to your early morning workout at Planet Fitness?

 [Pale blue post-it note, stuck on door] As if I’d work out at Planet Fitness. (I know you said that because you knew it would annoy me. Which—fuck you.) P.S. I have a package scheduled to come tomorrow while I’ll be at a last-minute meeting across the city. Could you find time to sign for it in between your sexcapades?

 [Pink paper torn from memo pad, slid under door] Fine.

 [Pale blue post-it note, stuck on door of apartment 55] FedEx— Please get signature from woman in apt 56.

 [Pink paper torn from memo pad, taped to package] You’re fully cat-sitting for me next time I go out of town.

 [Pink paper torn from memo pad, slid under door] Someone’s a hypocrite. A shame you couldn’t make her finish. My parents are visiting over the weekend, so if you happen to get laid twice after such a long dry spell, could you do it somewhere else?

 [Pale blue post-it note, stuck on door] She came just fine. Twice. And dry spell? At least I’ve never implied that was why I’d never heard anything from your apartment until a few months ago.

 [Pink paper torn from memo pad, slid under door] If you think those fake moans meant she came, you’re deluding yourself. And I’m sorry, I was trying to be generous. Figured a dry spell was the reason you got off so fast.

 [Pink paper torn from memo pad, slid under door] Nathan— We were eating dinner.

 [Pale blue post-it note, stuck on door] Why do you think I fucked her in the kitchen?

 [Pale blue post-it note, stuck on door] Could you sign for another package on Thursday?

 [Pink paper torn from memo pad, slid under door] You ask like I’m not still traumatized by the experience of making small talk with my parents while we listened to you fuck some girl’s brains out. Besides, you weren’t exactly grateful last time.

 [Yellow post-it note, stuck on door] Because you left thousands of dollars worth of tech in our hallway! Why did you think they required a signature?

 [Pink paper torn from memo pad, slid under door] For the tenth time Nathan, if you didn’t want me to leave it in the hallway you should’ve said so.

 [Yellow post-it note, stuck on door of apartment 55] FedEx— Please get signature from woman in apt 56.

 [Pale green paper torn from memo pad, slid under door] Heads up that I’m having some friends over tomorrow night so it’ll be noisy. You’re welcome to come if you want, assuming it doesn’t interfere with your old man bedtime.

 [Yellow post-it note, stuck on gift-wrapped box] Fuck you for not telling me it was your birthday.

 [Pale green paper torn from memo pad, slid under door] I told you you didn’t need to give me a gift! On a related note—a vibrator is not a good gift for someone you’re not fucking.

 [Yellow post-it note, stuck on door] Just thought the buzz on yours is sounding weaker than it used to. Figured you could use a replacement.

 [Yellow post-it note, stuck on door] Did you like it?

 [Pale green paper torn from memo pad, slid under door] I don’t know what you’re talking about.

 [Plain white 8.5- by 11-inch paper, typed, left on counter underneath a Tupperware of oatmeal cookies] Nathan: - Please feed one scoop of food once in the morning and once in the evening if possible (but one double scoop earlier in the day is fine if you wouldn’t be able to give him dinner until very late). - He loves pets while he eats. Not saying you have to give him pets, but he will look at you expectantly if you don’t. - I normally try to empty his litter every day, but if you could just do it once about halfway through my trip, that’d be fine. - If you can, some playtime or cuddles would be nice to make sure he doesn’t feel too lonely. His favorite toys are in a box next to the couch. He loves people and should recognize you by now, so he’ll probably jump right up to cuddle if you just sit down next to his favorite blanket. You’re welcome to stick around and read or watch TV for a bit while he sits with you. - Hope you like oatmeal cookies. I tried to go with something healthier so that you don’t feel a need to up your SoulCycle regimen. [Handwritten underneath] Thanks again for doing this. Stay out of my bedroom. [Handwritten underneath that] I don’t do SoulCycle and you know it.

 [Yellow post-it note, stuck on bedroom door] The contrarian in me nearly went in here out of spite.

 [Pale green paper torn from memo pad, slid under door] Thanks again for cat-sitting. The little asshole keeps looking at the door around dinnertime like you’re gonna come in to feed him. I’ll be home every night this week, just return my spare key whenever.

 [Yellow post-it note, wrapped around key and slid under door] Your pussy has good taste. Thank you again for the cookies. I’m out every night but here’s the spare.

 [Yellow post-it note, stuck on door] Sounded like a lousy fuck last night.

 [Pale green paper torn from memo pad, slid under door] Oh my god he was still here. No need to comment on the quality of my sex life, Bateman.

 [Yellow post-it note, stuck on door] Hey, at least I didn’t imply that you were the problem.

 [Pale green paper torn from memo pad, slid under door] When you actually make someone come, I’ll retract my statement.

 [Pale green post-it note, stuck on door] A girl bailed on our dinner plans after I already started cooking. Help me eat some of it?

 [Pale green paper torn from memo pad, slid under door] If this is how you ask all the girls into your apartment, it’s no wonder you can’t get a second date. I mean, that plus. You know. The other thing. The you’re bad in bed thing. I’m saying you’re bad in bed.

 [Back of a receipt, left on night stand] That was a bad idea. I couldn’t find my bra, give it back when you have a chance?

 [Pale green post-it note, stuck on plain brown box] Found it. When do I get my retraction?

 [Pale green paper torn from memo pad, slid under door] What, you need it in writing too?

 [Pale green post-it note, stuck on door] If there’s one thing I learned from my lawyer parents, it’s that I should get everything in writing.

 [Pale green post-it note, stuck on door] Bad joke, sorry.

 [Pale green paper torn from memo pad, slid under door] I’m used to it, you make a lot of bad jokes.

 [Pale green post-it note, stuck on door] Will you stop avoiding me if I agree it was a bad idea?

 [Yellow paper torn from memo pad, slid under door] That depends, do you actually agree it was a bad idea or do you just want me to stop avoiding you?

 [Pale green post-it note, stuck on door] If it means that you’ll avoid me forever, it was a bad idea.

 [Yellow paper torn from memo pad, slid under door] Going on a weekend trip and my friend who was supposed to cat sit came down with the flu. Can you help out?

 [Inscription on the front page of a copy of Much Ado About Nothing, left on counter] To the chick in apt 56— I was browsing your bookshelves while looking for something to read, and I noticed your copy of Much Ado looked pretty rough, so I picked up a new one for you. Same editor, since I know some people are picky about that sort of thing. I always went in more for the tragedies, but I think this one is growing on me.

 [Yellow paper torn from memo pad, slid under door] You’re not Benedick.

 [Yellow post-it note, wrapped around key and slid under door] Never said I was.

 [Yellow paper torn from memo pad, slid under door] You doing alright? I haven’t heard you leave for three days.

 [Yellow post-it note, stuck to empty Tupperware] Thanks for the soup. Were you lying about it being store-bought? I finally felt up to shopping today and couldn’t find anything like it anywhere. I’d pay honest to god money for you to make it again.

 [Scan of soup recipe, slid under door] [Handwritten underneath] If I recall correctly, you’re a capable cook. I’ll warn you that it doesn’t taste as good when you’re not sick. It’s like magic.

 [Yellow post-it note, stuck on door] Do you think I could get another cold if I asked enough strangers to sneeze and cough on me?

 [Yellow paper torn from memo pad, slid under door] Don’t you dare. You’re insufferable as it is but you turn into a big baby when you’re sick.

 [Yellow post-it note, stuck on door] I’m having some people over for my birthday on Saturday. (See how easy it is to mention that it’s your birthday?) Come, maybe?

 [Yellow paper torn from memo pad, slid under door] I think I have time to make an appearance.

 [Yellow post-it note, stuck on door] Just postpone your date with my vibrator and come to the party.

 [Yellow paper torn from memo pad, folded and taped to a Tupperware of oatmeal cookies] Nathan— That was a shit move on my part, I’m sorry. It was a fun night and I got carried away, but you were right to stop me. Thanks for being uncharacteristically nice about it. After the way I acted last time, I definitely deserved worse.

 [Yellow post-it note, stuck on empty Tupperware] Just didn’t want you to regret anything.

 [Yellow paper torn from memo pad, slid under door] Maybe I do, a little bit. What if I did? I think I might.

 [Yellow paper torn from memo pad, left on pillow] You look cute when you let yourself sleep in. Since apparently my coffee isn’t good enough for you, I’m running to the place down the street. I’ll feed the little menace before I go so if he tries to get you out of bed, you can ignore him. xx

——

interested in my other fics or my taglist form? you can find them on my masterlist here

taglist: @abelslittlebunny​, @aellynera​, @alwritey-aphrodite​, @amneris21​, @anetteaneta​, @bdavishiddlesbatch​, @be-the-spark-flyboy​, @brandyllyn​, @clumsy-stormtrooper​, @ew-erin​, @foxilayde​, @hayley-the-comet​, @hyperfixatingmenever​, @iflostreturntobudcooper​, @jitterbugs927​, @knivesareout​, @leto-duke​, @lostgirlheather​, @louderrthanthunderr​, @marvelousmermaid​, @moonlightburned​, @mstgsmy​, @one-hell-of-a-disappointment​, @poedameronloverx​, @prettylilhalforc​, @princessxkenobi​, @pumpkin-stars​, @rosiefridayrogersunday​, @salome-c​, @starryeyedstories​, @sugarpunch-princess​, @thedukeofcaladan​, @whovianayesha, @yourbucky084​

[ka-za-ri]

Study Session (Barbatos x F!Reader)

I said I wanted tail fucking. So I made it happen. Unedited bc Yolo

Pairing: Barbatos x Reader, hint of Diavolo x Reader Genre: PwP Smut Wordcount: ????   Tags: Smut, porn without plot, gaping holes, double penetration, demon sex, tail sex, bondage, slight degradation, size kink, deep penetration, hints of breeding kink Summary: Barbatos’ teaching methods are unorthodox, but effective

As a demon in control of time itself, it wasn’t a surprise that Barbatos excelled in history. When he offered to give you extracurricular lessons in his free time to help you float your grade in Demonic History, you were more than eager to jump on the chance to spend more time with him and get some much needed help with a subject you struggled in. You expected him to be strict. With the way he regularly carried himself, you knew that he wouldn’t go easy on you. What you didn’t expect was to be face down, ass up on a couch in a parlor. Your arms flush against your side as your wrists were tied to your bent knees. A spreader bar kept your legs apart and your pussy easily accessible during his lesson. He expected you to be in that position for hours considering how much you had to go through and at least had the foresight to wedge a cushion under you to help you hold the pose he put you in. Your underwear had been pushed to the side at the beginning, but after it slipped back over your holes, Barbatos made the executive decision to just rip them off for the remainder of his lecture. He had gagged you. Something about “We must make sure we do not disturb Lord Diavolo while he is working.You can save any questions you have for the end of the lesson” You were a drooling mess with your mouth stretched open over the gag, your muffled moans interspersed with labored, deep breathing through your nose. The butler sat in front of you, his crotch in full view so you could see how much he was enjoying his private lecture with you. You noticed his long tail snake around you, caressing your back and flipping over your skirt so he had full access to your holes and your ass. All the while, he continued to nonchalantly read from the book in his hand. The cool air hitting your heated core only made your focus blurry and his words faded away as you tried to hide your arousal. You were fading away into a land of fantasy until you felt something gently stroke your sopping folds. The tip of his split tail trailed up and down your pussy, coating itself in your essence. You looked up at him expectantly, hoping he would continue but he only glanced down at you for a brief moment before continuing onto the next paragraph. His tail stopped its ministrations and he waited for you to catch your breath. “Good students get rewarded for paying attention.” He explained coolly when you let out a needy whine, struggling against your restraints and pressing yourself closer to the teasing tip of his tail. He smirked and only waited for you to get the hint. Not moving nor giving you any of the pleasure you craved until you behaved as he saw fit. Only then did he continue to play with your pussy. The twin tips of his tail spread your lips apart as he educated you on the long history of Demonic royalty. Your hot hole ached to be filled, yet he only ever teased at its entrance. He knew what you wanted and he wasn’t about to give it to you until you proved to him you were a good student. His lecture dragged on, but you desperately hung onto every word, committing them to memory in his sultry voice if only for a chance to be satisfied. His tail eventually slipped into you and the lewd moan that came from the back of your throat was louder than you anticipated. Barbatos chuckled, pushing one split end into you while the other circled your clit. You whined, breathing heavily through your nose as his words once again faded into the back of your mind while you were awash with pleasure. Thin as the tips were, they were dexterous and the tip that was within you squirmed inside of you, pressing and and exploring all your sensitive spots. The tip on the outside focused on your swollen clit, giving it all the attention you could wish for, pushing back the fleshy hood and stimulating the sensitive bundle of nerves directly. “Are you ready for the next lesson? The timeline of Demon... conquests is a long one and I do hope you won’t be falling asleep.” You whined, nodding vigorously and you were rewarded with the feeling of his tail pushing further into you. Your eyes rolled back and you moaned. You weren’t filled yet, not nearly satisfied with the teasing he was giving you. But perhaps, if you were able to pay attention for the rest of his lessons, he would give you more. Your poor, sensitive clit was being worked into a state of over stimulation. The tip of his tail rubbed it in all the best ways. He had barely begun the next lecture before you let out a muffled scream, clenching around the thin appendage inside of you while he continued to  relentlessly rub your clit. Your ears rang, from the force of your orgasm, but Barbatos didn’t seem to pay you any mind, easily reading from his book and slowly thrusting his tail in and out of you while you struggled to focus. He no longer sat in front of you. The last time you looked, you could see a growing bulge in his pants and you were grateful to know he was somewhat affected by all of this as well. He stood behind you now, getting a full view of your ass and your dripping hole. Your swollen pussy and clit was a lovely, enticing sight and he gently ran his hand up and down your soaked thighs, trailing it up to cup your ass before giving it a firm slap. “Pay attention. I shouldn’t have to tell you this twice.” You let out a pathetic whimper, wishing you could at least beg for him to fuck you. But the gag in your mouth prevented you from expressing your deepest desires. “No wonder you’re failing. Look at you.” He sneered, slapping your ass once more. The tip that was caressing your clit now joined the one inside of you. The twin tips squirmed and writhed in your tight walls, pressing up against the sensitive channel and you shuddered as they pushed deeper and deeper inside of you, exploring every nook and cranny of your most sacred hole. “You’re so easily distracted. How disappointing.” The lesson had been put aside for the time being. He was much more focused on your punishment now for being unable to pay attention. The tips of his tail retreated to your entrance once again, this time scissoring you open, exposing you the demon behind you. “How disgusting... you’re so turned on by my tail.” He cooed, the slightest hint of malice in his voice. Somewhere in the interim, he had removed his gloves and now his soft hands traced slick trails of essence that flowed down your thighs before he pushed two fingers into your open hole. Your cunt eagerly accepted the digits, clenching around them while his tail continued to keep the entrance stretched wide for him. The wet sounds of his fingers thrusting in and out of you filled the room for a few minutes before he casually went back to discussing Demonic history as if he wasn’t finger fucking you to oblivion at that moment. You remembered cumming around his fingers around the time he told you about Lord Diavolo taking reign over the Devildom. Whatever names that came before that were a blur as you reeled in the sensation of our climax. His tail at last left your abused pussy alone as his fingers withdrew from you. You could hear Barbatos taking a moment to lewdly lick his fingers clean while he took a pause in between his lesson to let you soak in his teachings. That didn’t last very long though as he started speaking about his Lord’s early years on the throne. His tail once again entered you. This time, the tapered tip reached further inside of you than before. This time, it was a test to see how much of him you were willing to take. This time, you were gasping behind your gag, struggling for breath as he inched himself further and further inside of you. The writhing tips of his tail pushing aside your walls to make room for him until they stopped at your cervix. Tears started to roll down your eyes as you tried to comprehend Diavolo’s early achievements all the while the tip of his tail probed at your deepest spot and your entrance was stretched painfully wide open. He toyed at the tightly closed entrance within you, briefly teasing it before he started a regular thrusting pace in and out of you. Your pussy eagerly accepted the abuse, loving every inch of his tail that fucked you, its slick, smooth surface glided along your walls and sent you into paradise. And then, the pace quickened as he excitedly discussed even more of his history of service to Diavolo. The tips of his tail no longer teased at your cervix, they demanded entrance and they forcibly wriggled their way into you, hitting you deeper than before. Your very core was touched as he found himself exploring your womb and the carnal thoughts of filling it up with his seed interrupted his lesson for a bit. “Which... brings us to up to more present day.” He finally announced once he was satisfied with exploring you with his tail. “I hope you got all of that... I will be testing you later on this.” You gave him a feeble nod and a quite whine in confirmation. You weren’t sure how much you had actually learned considering how many times your mind had blanked out when you came around his tail. “Very good. I think it’s time for a well deserved break.” You heard the rustle of fabric and you heard the tell tale sounds  of him releasing his cock from the confines of his pants. Glancing back, you took a look at it in its fully erect glory. His cock looked as  if the tips of his tails had twisted together into a tapered spiral. Precum dribbled freely from the tip. His gaze met yours and with one last knowing smile, he plunged into your waiting hole. You could feel every ridge and bump of his cock as he entered your abused hole without much effort at all. His tail found the tight ring of muscle that held your asshole closed and started to tease there too while he set a brutally quick pace. His hand laced through your hair and pulled your head up to give him better leverage as he pounded into you. He knew just how deeply he had to go in order to fill your womb with his seed. As composed as he seemed to be on the regular, he wasn’t immune to the base needs of a demon. His dick dragged itself along your sore walls, relishing in how tight you were even after his tail had fucked you so thoroughly. Speaking of which, that appendage, still liberally lubricated with your essence had found its way past your anus and you were soon met with the feeling of being filled in both your holes. Though the base of his cock wasn’t as thick as his tail, the feeling of being penetrated in both holes had you stretched and full in a way you never experienced before. He worked your body like a toy, his tail and cock thrusting in rhythm that had you seeing stars. Barbatos was a much stricter teacher and a harsher lover than you could ever imagine. He knew the deepest parts of you and knew how you craved fitting every inch of him inside of you. He knew how hard to thrust to have you wheezing past your gag. He knew everything and you were more than happy to let him use you as he saw fit. The butler’s fingers dug into your hips as he held you in place while he fucked you, angling you so he could go deeper reach you right in the womb and breed your pretty little body until it was full of his seed. The thought of seeing your hole dripping with his cum was the last thing he needed to be sent over the edge. With a hard thrust from his cock and a harder push from his tail, he buried himself as deep as possible inside of you, releasing his load and flooding your canal with his essence. He groaned, panting in the after wake of his release. The warmth of his seed in you brought your walls down once again and you clenched around him, milking and accepting all he gave you. Pulling out slowly, he was met with the vision he had imagined. Your pussy gaping wide, dripping with a mixture of your fluids and his cum. His tail also retreated and he was pleasantly surprised at how lovely you looked with both your holes stretched open. He hummed in content, his finger trailing up and down your thighs, admiring the slick mess there. “Ah, I take it the lesson went well then?” Diavolo’s voice rang through the room and you felt a thrill of embarrassment and shock run through your spine. You squirmed, trying to close your legs and expose less of yourself to the Demon prince, but a firm slap on your ass caused you to stop. Your face flushed and you buried it the drool soaked cushion below you. “Very well. I’m sure she’s learned a lot.” Barbatos’ voice was cool and calm. He at last worked the gag off of you and once it was removed, you gasped for air relieved to at last take a deep breath unhindered. “I was just about to test her on what she learned. Would you like to oversee that?” “Oh, absolutely.” Diavolo’s tone was chipper and eager. You wondered just how much you would be able to recite after a lesson like that and your mind scrambled to recall the lectures Barbatos had given you. In your frantic recollecting, you had missed the sound of the demon prince’s pants coming undone, and it wasn’t until you felt the hot and heavy weight of his cock on your ass cheek when you realized what was about to happen. “So... start at the very beginning.” He announced, rubbing his cock in the juices that were liberally flowing out of you. Even if you had just cum, even if you were tired and over stimulated, the thought of accepting the prince had you wet and aching for him to fill you up. A quick glance back and your heart skipped a beat seeing his size and the regal shape of his knot. You gulped and quickly went back to recalling your ‘lessons.’ “What did you learn about our history?” he asked, pushing the thick, bulbous head into your sore pussy. “It’s been a while. I’m sure I could use a refresher.” You gasped and started babbling. No amount of preparation could have allowed you to be prepared for taking Diavolo, but you were a good student and you were going to show them just how much you learned. And for every inch of him you took, you remembered yet another fact from Barbatos’ lecture. Surely after this, you would pass your classes with flying colors, though; the thought of failing them more often was rather enticing.

[ashintheairlikesnow]

“I’m not telling you again.”

If you’re still doing the sentence prompts?

CW: Vampirism, blood drinking, minor whumpee (OC is 17), captivity, referenced dehydration and starvation, forced turning, wishing for death, religion

1905, somewhere outside New York City

-

"Come here, little one."

The boy presses himself back against the cold stone wall behind him. There's a cuff around one ankle, dull iron, and a chain that scrapes the floor when he moves. He swallows, shaking his head rapidly from side to side. Dirty hair falls dull over eyes that sparkle vibrant green in the near-total darkness.

He can't see her.

But she can see him.

"No." His voice is a whimper, a nearly-animal whine, pure fear. "Please, please, please no, not, not, not tonight, not... not tonight, please."

She sighs, chuckling fondly, and pulls a match across her palm to light the lamp that hangs on a hook down here. The wick catches flame, and now he sees the pale, pale skin, the deep red lips. The predator's gleam in glinting dark eyes.

She crooks a long, sharpened fingernail . He can see the hem of her dress, lace-edged, the skirt that sweeps up to curve her hips, the narrowed waist, the high neck. He's stared at illustrations of the Gibson girl put up in shop windows in stores that sell to richer women than he's ever known. She's an echo right down to the soft, upswept hair.

Like a man with an expensive coat hiding a knife, he thinks, that he means to slaughter you with. She's a monster who looks like an angel.

"I'm not telling you again. I'm hungry," She says, and gives a little pout. "I want you to feed me."

He pulls his arms in close, shaking his head again. Tears already threaten. He's so tired, all the time. There is never time enough to heal from one bite before the next and the next and the next-

"Come now, little pet. It's just one last time." Her voice is gentle, but he knows they lie. They all lie to get their fangs in you.

"What, what, what d'you mean?" The boy has a thick country Irish accent, still. Fresh off the boat, they call him when he tries to speak to the boys his age in his tenement. Half of them have accents like his, or thicker.

Not that he'll see any of them ever again.

Not since his parents-

Not since-

He chokes on a sob he can't quite hold back, turning at the waist to rub his fingers over the rough, cool stone. It helps. The motion, the texture, it helps. It calms him down, a little.

Everything here is wrong.

He misses home. He misses the green hills that were never so full of dirt ground in as the city streets are. He misses the air that didn't smell like offal day and night. He misses a world where it was all less overwhelming. He misses a world where his parents were alive to help him understand it.

"Oh, you're sad tonight," The monster wearing a woman's face says, taking the lamp off the hook and carrying it closer. The shadows dance off her cheekbones, they seem to give her a sneer rather than her soft smile. "Let Malorie be of aid to you. Tell me what you need, sweet boy."

"Can, can, can I have a-a drink? Miss?" His voice is hoarse from thirst, and he's parched. It has rained for two weeks and he's drunk the rainwater that leaks in through the walls, plus the few sips they give him each day. Food is a bit of moldy bread, cheese, maybe a thin soup. It isn't enough.

They don't seem to notice, or care.

But then food or water is something they left behind, isn't it?

"Hm." She steps forward, closer to him. Her eyes flash in the dark, reflect the bit of light, and he cringes back from her fangs as she smiles down at him. She moves to crouch before him, and sets the lamp down on the floor beside her. "Is it thirst that drives you, little one?"

"Please." His lips are chapped and cracked. He tastes blood, sometimes, and spits pink-tinged spit to blend with the soil beneath him. He tries to look pitiful - it's not hard to succeed. "Please. I'm, I'm so so so so... so thirsty, ma'am, just a cup, please-"

She looks down, unfastening the line of tiny pearl buttons on one sleeve, then rolling back the fabric to expose her wrist. A stray curl of dark hair falls down to brush her perfect cheekbone.

"Ma'am?" He can't understand what she's doing - none of them had ever started to undress in front of him before. "A drink, ma'am? Please?"

She looks up, and her eyes gleam like a cat's in the dark. Her teeth are very very white. He can see the venom shimmering on her fangs.

"A drink you want, you beautiful boy," She says, and he stares with uncomprehending horror as she moves her wrist towards her own mouth. "And a drink you shall have."

She tears her own wrist open with her teeth.

He gasps and tries to get up to run, but he's weak and dizzy and when she yanks at the chain that binds his ankle to the wall he goes down hard and lands with a thump, the breath knocked out of him.

While he wheezes air into lungs that won't take it, she pushes him onto his back and forces her wrist against his mouth, her other hand pinching his nose shut.

He cries out in horrified disgust against her cold skin and the thick brackish fluid that flows over his tongue. She stares down at him, avid, with huge eyes.

"Drink, sweet boy," She murmurs. "Quench your thirst."

He must drink or suffocate, and his body chooses for him. He swallows even as he gags, and swallows again, and she lets go of his nose so he can frantically pull in air, tears streaming to pool in the shells of his ears and soak into his grimy, dirty hair.

She is a blur through his terror, but her smile is written in stone in the yard beside a church.

"My turn," She says, and when she buries her fangs into his neck, the boy screams again.

And then goes limp as the venom takes hold, and the vampire begins to purr, her fingers gripped like claws into his shoulders.

There is no pain.

Only the fear.

I'm going to die, he thinks, and stares up into the darkness that wipes out even the lamplight. It seems like it's growing, within him and without.

His mouth is full of blood. It tastes better than it did when first she made him drink. The heaving of his stomach stops. He starts to swallow willingly, even eagerly. Nothing has ever quenched his thirst quite like this. It doesn't taste at all like he'd thought.

I'm going to die.

He wants to go home.

He wants more to drink.

He's so hungry.

He wants more blood.

When she pulls her wrist away, he whines and tries to grab at it, to pull it back. She laughs, swatting playfully at him.

"Not yet," She chides, wagging a finger. She licks her open wound and it closes. She laps at the remaining blood and he tries to sit up, to get some too, only for her to push him down again.

Then... pain.

Agony hits, a bright stripe straight up his spine, and he arches away from the ground, throwing his head back and screaming loud enough to bounce off all the walls. It recedes, and then comes again, through his stomach this time. The throb moves to his hips, thighs, into his calves and all the way to his toes.

He curls into a ball on his side, but the pain keeps growing. It takes over. He can't feel the floor he lays on, only the constant spark of nerves blaring alarm. He feels like he is being crushed under a rock, burned by the hottest fire, stabbed with a hundred knives.

"Wh, what, what's happening-... t'me?!" He coughs, and then sobs as the action hurts more than anything else ever has in his life.

"You're dying." She picks at her fingernails, already bored.

He turns to look up at her as she stands, licking her chops like a cat. Tears run down his face, and every time he blinks the air seems pink-tinged. "What...?"

"That's your body shutting down. You know, you're very fortunate." She wipes a droplet of the boy's own blood from the corner of her mouth and then sucks her finger clean. "Very few people get to be born twice. I'll see you tomorrow night. I would prefer if you didn't call me your mother."

Before he can even begin to form a question, she turns to walk away, hanging the lamp up on its hook as she goes, blowing out the flame.

The pain ripples again, he is broken like a brittle shell against the shore. His very bones feel as though they're tearing apart inside him.

He's going to die here.

And he won't stay dead. His parents will wait in Heaven for a demon son who will never be allowed to step foot into Paradise.

He gulps in air, lungs burning, and tries to remember the prayer through his panic. "Our Father, wh-who art in Heaven, hallowed be be be Thy Name-"

His throat blisters even saying the words, and when he tries to cross himself, his hand shakes too much, his joints crack and shatter. He can feel it, he can hear it. They crack and reform, break and bend.

He screams.

He screams until his throat is raw, until it bleeds, until his heart stops beating and blood runs from eyes and ears and from under his nails.

He whispers every prayer he's ever known when he can. He begs for salvation, he begs to be spared eternal bloodlust, he pleads for something other than damnation. He prays he'll see his parents in death and not become a monster like this.

His prayers are swallowed whole by darkness.

He dies, but he does not die for long.

-

Tag list:  @mylifeisonthebookshelf @insaneinthepaingame @keeper-of-all-the-random-things @burtlederp @finder-of-rings @newandfiguringitout @astrobly @endless-whump @pretty-face-breaker @gonna-feel-that-tomorrow @doveotions @boxboysandotherwhump @oops-its-whump @cubeswhump @whump-tr0pes @downriver914 @whumptywhumpdump @whumpiary @orchidscript @nonsensical-whump @outofangband @what-a-whump