#every time this happens when I’m trying to clear an all night stage my rage starts to fester

[gio-cosmo]

One thing I love about the persona dancing games is how pissed off the characters sound whenever I don’t clear a stage. “WHAT? SERIOUSLY? 😡” “That must’ve been so embarrassing to watch…” like wow guys thanks so much for that glorious motivation, really makes me feel better about my playing ability.

[kiame-sama]

Of Cats and Hawks- (Yandere!Hawks x Reader) pt. 2

Warnings; cat quirk reader, arguing, Hawks is a bit of a prick, yandere behavior, jealous behavior, mention of injury, hurt/comfort, female pronouned reader,

~~~~~~~~

"Where have you been?"

You were already nursing a headache from a particularly tough scrap the day before, so when you arrived at the Hawks' Agency, you were hoping for a slow morning. Instead, you were immediately met with an angry Hawks circling you as if he were trying to interrogate you.

"None of your damn business."

"It is when it makes you late to work!"

"I'm fifteen minutes early!"

Even though you were right, you were early to work, you consistently showed up early and worked late ever since joining the agency. This meant when you weren't there the usual hour early, Hawks began to worry. When more time passed, Hawks began to worry and fret over where you could possibly be, considering sending his feathers out to look for you just to ensure you were alright.

"Tell me when you plan on being late!"

"I already told you, I'm early! My shift starts in a literal fourteen minutes!"

"Where were you?"

"Mind your own- Grr-!"

You switched midway through your sentence to a deep snarl of anger towards the number three hero, teeth bared as you growled lowly. Every other 'side-kick' stared at the argument between the two of you taking place so early in the morning. The other members of the agency did what they could to make you feel welcome and even tried to team up with you on several occasions, only to be shot down by the boss himself.

It was clear- to them at least- that Hawks treated you differently than he did the rest of them. Instead of flying off ahead of you like he did with the others, he picked you up and carried you wherever he went. Naturally, you did not react well to the sudden 'help' the first few times, hissing and yowling the entire time even when you both returned to the agency. This is where the others got to experience your habit of animal speech when you were truly angry.

Now the two of you snapping at each other- usually it was you snapping at Hawks and him flirting back- was a normal occurrence at the agency. In fact, it was common for the two of you to go back and forth so much news stations caught these interactions regularly. These interactions led to a nation-wide belief that you were tsundere and your boss- Mr. Number Three Hero- was trying to win you over.

Entire episodes of hero centered news stations focused on the supposed chemistry between the two of you. Fan-girls at first disliked you due to jealousy, but after enough of your interactions were aired, they began to ship you and Hawks. It seemed like most of Japan shipped the two of you as a team and a couple.

"Don't you hiss at me! Tell me where you were and who you were with!"

"Hiss!"

Your fluffy kitty tail was even fluffier as it poofed up with your rage, erratically lashing back and forth in response to Hawks' pushy behavior. Now you were at the stage of hissing openly instead of speaking, there really was no use to try and talk to you further as your responses would only be similar sounds. It got to the point you clearly had enough of his demands as you swiped at him, taking several feathers off of those wings of his even as he dodged back.

"What the hell was that for-?"

He was cut off with a crisp smack across the face that stunned everyone in the room, all eyes wide and trying to understand what happened. You had enough, not wanting to play this hissing match with someone who didn't even check in when his side-kicks were injured and you decided you would patrol alone. Just as quickly as you came in, you turned on your heel and left, making sure your tail smacked him across the face as you went.

"Come back here damn it!"

"Boss."

"What!?"

"Street Cat was at the hospital all night, that's why she wasn't early like usual today."

The words sent ice through the hawk hero's veins, feeling as if he had just been told the worst possible news. His shift in mood was very apparent as his wings slowly dropped, golden eyes wide with disbelief as he stared at one of his many side-kicks. You were in the hospital?

"... What?"

"Yesterday, during that street brawl with that gang of thieves, Street Cat got a whole bunch of injuries. She apparently went up against a pretty big name villain and though she caught him, she had to go to the emergency room because of her injuries."

"... I didn't know."

"Yeah, she was taken to the hospital while you were doing that interview."

"Why didn't she tell me?"

"I guess it's because she's a cat, you know? My cat usually hides when he doesn't feel well or is hurt, something about hiding weakness to protect themselves I guess."

Well, Hawks certainly felt like a right old bastard. He didn't even know you were injured and he talked to you like he had been accusing you of doing something behind his back. Sure, he was already enamored and rather committed to a relationship with you, but you had been fighting him every step of the way.

Of course! How could he be so stupid? He was going about everything the wrong way, thinking that he could just easily win you over with a few one-liners and witty remarks. Clearly, he had forgotten just how difficult it was for him to read cats, having always been at odds with the furballs because of his bird traits. Everything he had done up until that point was done just focusing on your human characteristics, not your cat instincts.

"Damn it. Hold all of my calls for me!"

~~~~~~~~

You sniffled and sighed in a mix of upset frustration and anger, hiding in the shadowed alleyway of a large building that loomed behind you. It wasn't like you really expected the damned bird to care what his side-kicks did, but why did he have to pick on you all the time? Honestly, you were debating leaving the agency and seeing if the Pussycats would take you instead.

You had known you would clash with Hawks on the regular, but he was so adamant about working with you, like a child pulling your tail just to get a reaction from you regardless of if it hurt or not. Every time you tried to just get to know the other side-kicks, Hawks was pulling you away for whatever reason. The others honestly made you feel welcome and the only one who didn't was your damned boss because of how often he pulled you away from everything to patrol or even do his paperwork for him.

"Leave it to a Street Cat to take comfort in an alleyway."

"What the hell do you want Hawks?"

"Hey, I'm trying to be nice."

"So you can go back to being a jerk to me every other time?"

"What do you mean?"

"Don't play dumb, Keigo. It may work on your fans but it doesn't work on me. You asked me to join your agency but you've gone out of your way to make me feel like an outsider! No matter what I do you have something negative to say about it or some stupid quip like I'll just fall into your bed so you can use me like you use everyone else! I knew I would never be able to get along with you, but I just had to choose this hell over the Pussycats. Serves me right."

He was honestly surprised to hear your hissed accusations, now seeing how his actions- which he thought were encouraging- actually managed to dissuade you from fitting in at the agency. His jealousy made him pull you away whenever you got talking with others at the agency, but now he saw the damage he was actually doing by acting in such a way. All he had done was pull you around and force you to go at his speed instead of slowing down to your pace, no wonder you were upset with him.

"I haven't been fair to you."

"You think?"

"(Y/n), do you know why I asked you to join?"

"Because you're an ass?"

"It's because I want to work with you and be by your side."

"Not interested in being a fuck toy."

"I know, and I don't want you to be a fuck toy. I want to be with you in a relationship. Sure, you're not ready yet, but one day you might be and I don't want you to be far away when that day comes."

"Does it even occur to you that I have wants and wishes too?"

"It does, but will you let me try to win you? I'm not really good at the whole 'relationship' thing and usually just went for flings, but will you at least let me try to prove my dedication to you? To us?"

You crossed your arms, feeling your ears angle back slightly as you glared at the dark walls of the alleyway. It was hard to not wonder if it was really Hawks talking or if he were just trying to ride the social trend of you two being an item. Beyond that, you knew you would have to set ground rules and make sure he knew your boundaries well.

"For your fans?"

"(Y/n)," he removed his visor and stared intently at you, "I couldn't care less if they want us together or not. I want to try to win you over and to do it at your speed, not mine. Please, give me a chance."

"Why?"

"Why let me or why do I want only you?"

"Both."

Hawks smiled happily, cupping your cheek and leaning close. You wanted to pull away but refused to give him that power over you, feeling slightly anxious at your proximity. His thumb trailed over your bottom lip as he smiled in a way that made him seem drunk off of your presence.

"You should let me try because I know you want to see where this goes too. As for why I want you and only you, it's because my whole life has been planned for me and has forcibly shaped me into a hero regardless of if I wanted to be or not. You are the only thing in my life I have ever found myself wanting and seeing you carve your own path instead of the one given to you... It's damn near magical."

You felt surprise run through you, having always thought Hawks was just a dime-a-dozen kind of guy who wanted to be spoiled and fallen for. It never really occured to you that Hawks had been living a life that others ruled for him.

"You are told to be like Aristocat, but you chose to be Street Cat instead. I'm jealous of you. I want to know you and learn how you managed to thrive independently from the role you were given. Hell, you could even say I admire you. So, will you give me a chance to win you over?"

Despite your better judgement, you felt as if Hawks was truly speaking from the heart and not just saying what you may want to hear. He heard your feelings on his behavior and now it was all starting to make sense to you. Hawks had been so bossy and clingy because he truly seemed to like you, but you had taken it as an insult instead. Seeing him bear his heart to you now practically compelled you to agree to let him try, there was little more that seemed fair to the bird hero.

"Fine, but if you are lying to me, I will be having fried hawk on my dinner plate."

"... That's hot."

[067supremacy]

Trigger warning: this entry features the reader being followed and grabbed at knifepoint. If this is something that will make you uncomfortable, then please don't read it!!!!

So, I wrote this about a month before Resident Evil Village came out. As you can probably tell as this includes ideas of my own; and missed out some obvious problems that now show after playing the game. It was fun to imagine what the character was like at the time, from what we had to go on! :’) (also, I originally wrote this for the blonde who was rumoured to be called Daniela, but Daniela doesn't get enough love!!)

Guardian-Angel

Living your life at night had become your new regular. Your girlfriend Daniela is unable to live her life during the day, and despite the hardships, it came with, you were more than happy to give up the daylight to be with the woman you love.

Living with a vampire had its ups and downs, but you wouldn't change her for a second. You had been something of a stabilizer for her. When you first met her, she was stuck in her crazy gothic look. She was deadly and bloodthirsty, but you had a way of calming her to a tranquil state. Daniela had two different looks that were determined by her mood. When Daniela was calm, she was a natural beauty. Her Red hair was long and healthy, she had clear skin, and her attitude was caring. But when she was upset, Daniela was utterly different. She was full of anger, covered in black from head to toe, the surrounding area of her mouth was covered in crimson red, her fangs would grow through frighteningly sharp, and wasps would manifest seemingly out of nowhere.

You knew the dangers of living with a vampire, but it didn't matter to you. You trusted Daniela with your life. The first time you slept in the same bed as her, you couldn't help but worry about the possibility of her biting you. Little did you know that she could sense your worry and had even decided to tease you about it by resting her face in the crook of your neck. Daniela was in love with you. And deep down, she feared that one day your time would come. After all, she would be here long after your demise. The conversation of turning you was something she had yet to do, but the thought was always there. She had come close plenty of times to ask you to be with her for life, but her idea of rejection led her to remain happy with what she had.

It had just gone 1 am when you left 7-Eleven in a hurry. The pitch-black sky was unnerving but relaxing at the same time. There was a lot to enjoy about the night-time. Like, how quiet the streets were, how empty the store was, and how the sleepy nightlife was stunning to look overhead. The stars lead you home as you silently walk by yourself, you curse at the fact you left your headphones at home, but at least you could enjoy the walk back.

The dim streetlights ahead offer little visibility, but they give you absolute comfort. You come to the end of the high street where fast-food restaurants end, and the streets get much darker. With no cars going by, it's hard to tell what's up ahead when you turn right into a second street in which should be a straight shot to your apartment. You notice a man traveling just a few steps behind you. You felt uneasy about it but pushed the thought to the back of your mind. You speed up slightly to put some distance between you. The way the world was nowadays, you couldn't trust this situation; it is sad but true.

You decide to do a full circle through an alleyway and back out to the street out of curiosity. Sure enough, the shadow figure follows your every move, and that's the last that you were going to play with this. You pull out your phone and call Daniela with shaky hands. The phone rings once, and the voice you love so much answers cheerfully, but you can't even remember what she said as you were blinded with panic.

"Dani, I think someone is following me," you say in a hushed tone as to not alert the shadow figure following you. Almost as quickly as you finished the sentence, you can hear the familiar sound of wasps manifesting in the background. There is no time to be wasted in Daniela's mind. You can already hear the change in her voice as she asks for your location.

It's like you can feel Daniela's heart aching at the thought of your discomfort, something inside you doesn't feel right when Daniela gets like this, and it's ultimately why she agreed to stay calm in all circumstances.

"Just keep walking home, baby. I'll come and meet you." Your vampire girlfriend replies as you hear the phone fall to the floor and the raging hive leaves the apartment. The sound goes quiet, and you're left with your thoughts, but not for long as the footsteps get closer and louder. You can feel the presence on your heels. Before you know it, a large hand had taken you by the arm and directed you into the closest alleyway.

You yelp at the tight grip on your arm, the groceries you had from shopping had been sent to the floor, but you clutched your purse for dear life. The shadow figure was around 5ft 10Inches tall. The person was stocky in build, rugged looking. They wore a black hoodie and a black balaclava. The only thing you could see was the person's eyes. They pierced through you, you couldn't tell if they held hostile intent or if they were just trying to scare you, but that didn't matter. The person pushes you to a corner and unsheathes a small blade.

A man's voice, deep and resonant, shoots out from his mouth. "I'm gonna need that purse and whatever jewelry you have on you," He waves the blade before your eyes, almost teasing you that he had the upper hand.

Your fears boil over as the tears start to stream, and you feel powerless. You fold your arms over your purse in an act of defiance. The man in front of you seems to be getting impatient already, but you manage to bumble out a small plead, "Please, just let me go," The man chuckles at your plea.

"Just give me your shit, and then you can go. I won't even hurt you," the man jokes dryly. At this point in time, the tables had turned, "You can go now, and you won't get hurt," you confidently claim. Your confidence comes from the single wasp that crawls up the sleeve of the man's hoodie, but the single wasp was soon joined by another one, and then two more.

"I'm not fucking playing around now, give me your th- "he's cut off by the sting of a wasp on his neck. The few on his hoodie fly to the end of the alleyway. A woman's laugh surrounds the area, an angry hive of wasps come together and begin to form the silhouette of a tall woman. Your woman.

The man takes a step back in fear, which gives you the chance to storm toward the love of your life. You smoothly run straight past the form of Daniela, something that the man tries to replicate, but the swarm of wasps begins to surround him. They trap him within a tunnel. You knew what this was and where it was going. Daniela was manifesting into her proper, vampire form.

"the man screams and thrashes around, attempting to swat the wasps away from him, but his attempts were futile. The manifestation of her form becomes complete when she pushes him to the floor. Her movement is quirky but calculated. The wasps cocoon the two in a small dome. Keeping him grounded, Daniela laughs at the man's terrified figure. She taunts him with her newfound power.

"She gave you a chance, oh darling, you should have listened to her." Daniela spits her venomous, spiteful tone at the robber. The man attempts to slash at Daniela, and he catches her with the tip of the blade, but her form sheds more of the wasps surrounding the two instead of blood. She laughs demonically as she picks him up with effortless strength. She shoves him against the wall and prepares to end him.

From behind her, you force your way through the hive and touch her shoulder, which has a visible effect on her. She lets her grip on his shoulder loosen slightly. You assure her that you were unharmed, which seems to sway her, but you can still feel her rage within you. You use the power that you hold over Daniela by commanding that she let him go. She's come too far in her time with you to collapse into her bloodthirsty stage again.

And so, she lets the man run, he quickly flees the scene looking like he had just seen a vampire....... Daniela carefully watches the man disappear into the night. The second he is gone, her walls break down, and her softer side comes back out. The crazy gothic vampire look is gone without a trace. Daniela pulls you into her and crushes you into a tight hug. She couldn't lose you. The thought broke her every emotion as she held you. You could hear her breath hitch as she let it all out. Daniela was crying on your shoulder in a dark alleyway at 1:30 am.

"I love you, Y/N. I can't lose you; it would destroy me. I need you safe. I need you alive." She continues to unload every emotion. You reciprocate everything. The massive hug is filled with love and passion. Before you break the hug, you lean into her ear and whisper, "I love you too, Dani. I'm not going anywhere; nothing is going to happen to me. Not when I have my Guardian-Angel protecting me,"

A/N

I'm planning on doing part two, where Daniela has the talk with the reader about turning them into a Vampire. P.S I absolutely love the idea of her being like a normal looking girl when she's calm, but you piss her off........ Game over.

[the-a-word-2214]

Defender

summary: Anatole suggests a filthy thing to (Y/N) at the opera involving his sister, Pierre steps in. Based on the scene at the Opera with Natasha

pairing: Pierre Bezukhov x reader

word count: 1,095

warnings: filthy language, fluff, protective and angry Pierre, sexual assault

The sun filtered through the curtains as you felt soft kisses on your shoulder and cheek. Your eyes flutter open as you turn to look at the man you could now call your husband. His eyes full of love, his mouth parted.

“I am at a loss for words, my love. Your beauty mystifies me each and every day.” His voice is the ghost of a whisper as he takes your hand in his, his body hovering above you.

“My darling Pierre, your presence alone makes my heart beat faster. I’m elated that you can now see your self-worth.”

Ever since he joined the questionable Freemasons, he had a new sense of accomplishment and pride now that he was taking more time to sort out his farm duties. Once this happened, he proposed to you. He figured that he was in a better place now to marry you since he now felt a sense of purpose in life.

You, on the other hand, were getting over the death of your father. He pulled you out of a dark time, your roles reversed at that moment. You felt hopeless while he gave you every reason to live. Normally it’d be the other way around.

He hums in response, his eyes searching your own. His slim fingers find yours, intertwining themselves as if he’s trying to get lost in you.

“That may be so, but it wasn’t without your guidance. I couldn’t have done it without you, (Y/N).” His words are soft, only loud enough for you to hear them.

“Your excellency, it is time to attend to your business affairs.” A staff member enters your quarters and announces to your husband that he must get on with the day.

“Right, thank you.” He swiftly stands up, pulling on his clothes for the day, the same staff member assisting.

“Good luck, my love. I shall miss you.” You give him a kind smile, pecking his lips quickly as he heads off.

*****

The next time you saw Pierre was at the Opera that evening. You both walked into the palace together, quickly finding your designated seats. You felt a sense of pride, it wasn’t every day that you got to show off your new husband to relatives and noblemen alike.

Your hand sat in Pierre’s, his thumb gently stroking the top of your hand. Every so often, his eyes would scan your face to check up on you. He was more attentive than you could ever ask for.

You glanced at the crowd, hoping to see some familiar faces. Your eyes fell on that of Anatole Kuragin, the scoundrel himself. His eyes were trained on you, your sense of comfort slowly depleting. You shifted your gaze back to the stage in hopes of regaining your posture and focus.

Helene appeared by your husband’s side, her fingers lingering on his coat.

“Might I pull you away for a moment, Count Bezukhov?” You never trusted her but you trusted Pierre enough to know that he wouldn’t be fooled by her.

You turned your focus back to the opera, noticing that Anatole was gone. In a flash, he was in your husband’s place. His slimy grin on full display.

“Hello, dear Countess. Might I propose something to you?”

“I suppose so. Speak.” Your gaze never moved from the stage as the man beside you took your hand as though he were your lover.

“Meet me in the nearby closet once this is all done, my sister and I will be waiting for you.” He whispered in your ear away from listening ears.

You were appalled by his words. Yanking your hand away, you stood up in an instant. You rushed off to clear your mind as your husband removed his eyes from Helene. He looked on after you as he saw Anatole rush into the equipment room.

The footsteps behind you were evident as you tried to find a place to hide from him. Your breath caught in your throat as he grabbed your wrists, pinning them above your head. His other hand made its way under your dress and breeches, trying to find that spot between your legs.

You screamed as you tried to wriggle your hands from his grasp. The door flung open and Anatole was flung from your body, pinned against a nearby wall by your beloved.

His glasses fogged as he seethed with rage. “I will kill you! Don’t you ever lay your hands on her again!” He screamed as he held a piece of equipment near his head in an attempt to scare him.

By this point, several other people in power looked in on the three of you while Helene stood idly by. Anatole huffed as he moved away and stormed off with his sister in tow.

A sob finally escaped your lips as you shook your head, stunned by what just happened. You sunk into the warm arms of your husband as he stroked your hair, leaving soft kisses on the top of your head.

“Trust me when I say he’s not coming back. I would like to believe that Helene won’t be either.” He holds you at arm's length to look at you, his fingers tilting your chin up.

“It’s going to be alright, (Y/N). I’m sure of it.” You weakly smile as he puts an arm around you and takes you home.

*****

As you lie in bed, staring at the ceiling, you can’t help but wonder why Anatole targeted you? It deeply hurt you that he would go as far as to play a sick joke on you and manipulate you the way he did.

You’re pulled from your thoughts at the sight of your husband standing at the foot of your bed, his eyes full of worry as he climbs in next to you adorned with his nightshirt.

“Darling, are you alright? You worry me so much.” He speaks truthfully as you’re met with the green orbs that made up his irises.

“Yes, I’m fine. I’m just a little shaken up is all.” You rub at your arms and stop at your wrists, the ghost of Anatole’s hand still there.

“Well alright, let’s get some sleep. I’m here if you need me.” He pulls you into him as he blows out the candle near his head. His arm wraps around your waist. His embrace reminds you that with him, you’re safe.

You didn’t have to worry about visitors in the night with your husband with you. Pierre was all you needed at that moment to put your mind at ease.

[cher-writes]

Silver Screen / Silver Pole | Robert Sheehan x Reader (18+)

Summary: A night of celebration in a LA strip club takes an interesting and unexpected turn when a contrarian actor winds up offending the wrong stripper. But night is long and the possibilities are endless, where will it take them?

Word Count: 7.3k

CW: Mention of sexual harassment, Consensual slapping, NSFW smut

A/N: This one is surprisingly not bloody at all and the smut isn't wild either so like most everyone can read it. Although it's emotionally very heavy. So, get ready to feel some shit. Hopefully you'll enjoy.

Special thanks to @crisis-of-joy for being there for me the whole month I took to complete this emotionally taxing fic and also for being my kind beta reader & editor.

Burning on it’s way down, the third glass of whiskey finally gave her some life she desperately needed. Deafening music throbbed throughout her veins, drowning the club in the background. She wanted to drown with it too but she couldn’t, she was there to work and rent for the month was already due. The fourth glass was on the verge of meeting with her bitter mouth when she felt a hand on her shoulder.

“Don’t drink so much, you’ll trip on the stage,” Coco practically shouted in her ear. Coco was the only friend she had in that goddamn place and It wasn’t a very rare occurrence that Coco had to drag her blackout drunk body out of the club. It wasn’t an exaggeration to say she had a problem. Considering that she was already on her third strike of the month and the third drink of the night, Coco knew better than to let her get drunk this early.

 “I can’t stay here and be sober at the same time,” she shouted back at Coco, “especially after...nevermind,” but decided against talking about it and instead focused her energy on finishing the fourth glass, which was gone just as quickly as the words stopped coming out of her mouth.

 She could read the concern on Coco's face and sense the questions brewing behind it as Coco spoke up, “I want to know what the fuck is up with you but I have to go now, Caleb came home from school hours ago, it’s pretty late and I have to cook him dinner.”

“What happened to Larry? Can’t he take care of the kid? He’s fucking jobless anyway.”

“He got in a bad fight again. I can barely afford Caleb’s school fees and now the medical bills.”

“If only you had divorced him, you wouldn’t need to worry about it.”

“And if only you had been less violent towards customers, you wouldn’t be on the verge of getting fired. But, here we are.”

She furrowed her brows at this sudden sharp stab of truth by Coco and dealt with it the only way she knew how to, by ordering another drink. Coco crossed her arms letting out a deep sigh and said, “Look, I'm only trying to help you, (y/n). Sam wanted me to go up. You see that group seating in the fifth VIP booth? Up there. They are celebs and celebrating something so, ya know, good money. I said no cause, as I said I gotta go home, but I convinced him to let you go up there. It was hard given your recent less-than-favorable behavior, but I managed to.” Coco snatched the already empty glass from her hand and continued, “So stop drinking, go up there and get that money. And for the love of God, behave yourself or this might be your last night here.”

Giving her hand a quick but tight squeeze, Coco got up then soon after disappeared into the crowd. She thought to herself about how a last night there wouldn’t be so bad if she could afford it, and wanted another drink immediately to kill that thought, but Coco's words haunted her ears. She looked over her shoulder to see three men sitting in the booth, laughing.

------------

Her head was in a violent swirl, vision blurry. She was way too drunk to be spinning around the pole, but she had an audience to entertain and had no one but herself to blame.

When you walked around your house wearin' my sky blue Lacoste, the song was thudding against her skull. Pulling herself together, she counted every second, waiting for the song to end. She could feel the eyes on her, sticking to every bit of her, just as invasive as it was the very first day yet, she couldn’t care less. She had to live through it if she wanted the money and she needed the money if she wanted to live. The room was dancing circles around her as the tips came flying in, she kept counting the seconds, sliding down the pole, and your knee socks.

------------

She was swaying dangerously on her way down from the stage. If the song didn’t end when it did, she would have thrown up without a shadow of a doubt. At that point, she didn’t even know how or what she danced, only the awful sickness in her stomach let her know that it was more than she could take.

She needed to chat up the men, try and convince them to buy a champagne room before the next song came on, which she feared was way too soon for her liking. Nevertheless she tried to steady herself but the big glass platforms messed with her earnest efforts, nausea kicking her in the stomach once again, letting her know of her limits. 

She didn’t ever really look at the men who sat in front of her, leering at her, they all looked the same, smelt the same and talked the same. So she followed the same old routine, bending down just enough to give them a view up her tits. Pressing her arms closer, she slurred, “What are we celebrating, gentlemen?”

 She absolutely hated how she sounded pandering to men, two pitches higher. “My friend over here landed a role in a Spielberg film!” the middle one spoke up and pointed to the one sitting on the right side. The one in question grinned in response and repulsion licked the back of her neck at the sight of that. Yet she needed to please him, “That’s amazing! I’m sure I’ll be seeing your face on the billboards everyday now while driving,” she said and fantasized about having enough money to burn down all the billboards in LA and maybe LA with it too.

 “Hell yeah you will!” the one in the middle spoke up and broke her reverie so she pretended he was supporting her fantasy instead. “Oh please! Speak for yourself!” the one on the right perked up in his seat and continued, “He’s literally working with Fincher AND he got engaged!”. The one in the middle gave a revolting smirk at the very humble revelation of his accomplishment and it was enough to turn her stomach or maybe it was the alcohol, she couldn’t really decipher.

 “Oh really?” she looked at the man, tilted her head and said, “And you came to a stripclub to celebrate your engagement?”, her face deadpan. Notes of contempt stuck out like thorns from her voice, making her sound way more intense than she intended to.

 He tensed up visibly at her sudden razor-edged tone and, even though she didn't want to, she had to ease the situation. I can’t piss off these bastards again, she kept repeating to herself like a mantra. “Boys will be boys!” she said, not being able to think of something better that wasn’t inherently insulting, and laughed the most disgusting laugh of her life. If she could she would pour gasoline down her throat just for uttering those words.

 She couldn’t bear to linger at that conversation point anymore so she turned her attention to the man sitting on the far left. He looked distant and foreign, staring but not really looking at her. There was a peculiar absence behind his distinct green eyes, which she would even call beautiful under different circumstances. And that, something about that absence, made her want to zero in on him.

“And what about you? Did you win an Oscar or something?” mockery ringed clear in her voice, which brought his attention back to the presence. Startled slightly, he straightened his posture while saying, “No, not really... not yet at least,” he smiled sheepishly and continued, “I’m just here with them”.

“Come to think about it, I’ve never really seen you anywhere,” she said without thinking too much. In fact, she didn’t really pay enough attention to how he looked to recognize him even if she did. 

Something intense flashed his eyes for a brief second. She couldn’t quite put her fingers on what it was but she could feel the energy shift very quickly between them.

“Oh I’ve been in things but I’d be surprised if you did see any of them,” his voice now stripped of the delicacy it previously held. She could feel the air between them getting unusually heavy, his words penetrating through her skin a bit too effortlessly, a bit too swiftly that it was unsettling.   

“And why exactly would you be surprised?”

“You know...cause people like you don’t usually watch the kind of films I do.”

“What do you mean by ‘people like me?’”

“You know...people of your...stature,” he trailed off. Blood rushed the back of her neck as soon as the words hit her ears. She could feel her vision burning, a hot wave washed the crown of her skull, something unruly building at the base of her being. Clenching her jaw so as not to let it take over her, she said, “Stature huh? Fancy! I reckon from your accent that, wherever the hell you’re from, people get a kick out of looking down on others with such wispy language.”

 She could sense the same unruly substance dancing behind his chest, but he was far better at keeping it on a leash.

“I wasn’t looking down upon you. What I was merely getting at is that some people aren’t cut for apprehending particular types of films,” he sounded snarky but calm, the type of calm that’s tainted with scorn, which only sent ripples of rage down her ribs.

  “Oh so you think just because I’m a stripper by profession that I wouldn’t understand your low-budget dumb indie movies?” she was getting visibly worked up now. Traces of her seductive posture vanished long ago but there was a new hostile energy flowing through her stance.

“I didn’t say that -”

“No, of course you didn’t say that, you only meant that. You meant what you think and every one of you think that we aren’t people with brains and emotions. No, no, we’re just sacks of meat to ogle at in exchange of money, and then grope when you can’t keep it in your pants.”

“I think you're trying to put words in my mouth, this is -”

“God! you think you’re fucking better than me, don’t you? You contrarian little shit!” she could feel it in her bones. She knew what was coming. There were people behind, or maybe beside, her, trying to talk to her, probably. She could hear no one, not even the previously unbearable blaring music. She had tunnel vision and it was fixed on him. The air she breathed chafed her nose. Her nerves thumped as her heart leapt at irregular rapid intervals.

  “Excuse me! but i neve -” he said as his body went alert. Posture anticipating something violent, flight or fight.

  “You think you're better than me because I'm a stripper and you got enough money to buy me?” her voice was icy as she spoke, “You LA people are all the fucking same. You get a little money in your pockets and you think you own the world and anyone who isn’t jerking off to your pretentious bullshit isn’t worthy enough to deserve basic fucking decency. Huh is that it?” she quickly jumped on top of him, straddling him.

He was frozen under her as she leaned in and murmured, “Well then allow me to show you”, she pulled away, her left hand clutching his shoulder as right fist rose the air, “HOW FUCKING BETTER THAN ME YOU ARE!” then her fist crashed on the side of his mouth with all the force she could muster, releasing a knot built in her chest since she checked in with the manager in the evening. Hot, sweltering adrenaline was coursing through her veins.

 The impact resulted in him burying his face in his right shoulder so she grabbed a fistful of his hair and forced him to face her. His lips were starting to swell up so she decided to help it. His eyes went blank as her fist met his face once more.

 Involuntarily, her hand was raising in the air again when she felt a strong pull from behind. The security guard, twice her size, yanked her away from him. People gathered around them staring at her, the music stopped to her relief. The guard twisted her arms behind her back, enough to leave bruises that’ll sting for days to come. She couldn't move, her sight went hazy yet she felt this strange cool serenity soothe her tensed muscles. His friends were crowding him, probably consoling him. She could neither hear them nor make out their faces from her almost closed eyelids. She was pretty sure she was falling asleep in the guard’s painful hold until she heard a certain voice and the hair at the back of her neck stood up. 

“What the fuck! She’s at it AGAIN? Sir, I'm so sorry -” Sam, the manager’s voice pierced her ears as he rushed into the booth. As he was talking to them, commotion rose in the background. She could feel blind rage beating with every thump of her heart. If it wasn’t for the guard holding her in place, she would have skinned him alive by now. She was struggling to free herself when Sam turned to her and said, “You! That’s it!” pointing his left index at her. “I’ve had just about enough of your drunkass assaulting fine gentlemen. You’re fired. Get out right now! And be grateful we’re not reporting you to the police.”

Suddenly everything went quiet in her head. She smiled, nothing behind her gaze. Grinning ear to ear like a maniac, she said, “I’m fired? Aww what’s gonna happen to you now Sam?”. She cooed, ''Whose tits and ass are you gonna grab from now on? Stella? I wonder if she’ll compare to me though.”

“What the fuck are you talking about?” Sam almost hissed at her.

“Ohhh right! Of course, you don’t know what I’m talking about,” she said while still tussling with whatever little strength she had left to loosen herself from the guard’s excruciating grip. “You don’t know anything about how you sexually harassed me day after day, how your disgusting, slimy little hands grabbed my body against my will at every chance that you got. You knew how much I need the money from this job and you used that against me to keep me silent, threatening to fire me every time I made even a sound. But guess what fucker? I’m fired now! And I’m gonna tell everyone about HOW YOU TRIED TO -”

“Take her to the staff room!” Sam cut her off, “NOW!” And, as soon as the words left Sam's mouth, the guard put his palm over her mouth and started dragging her back. The hand over her mouth muffled her screams and she glanced at the man, now with swollen lips, looking at her with eyes filled with, what looked like, concern.

As she was getting dragged, she finally managed to sink her teeth into the guard’s palm resulting in him withdrawing his hand just enough to give her a small window of time to scream at Sam: “YOU MOTHERFUCKER I’LL BE BACK AND I’LL PEEL THE SKIN OFF OF YOUR SCALP FUCKING SON OF A BITCH I’LL -” Before she could finish, her voice got cut off again and she faded into the dimly lit passageway at the back of the floor.

------------

The cherry of her fifth cigarette shone brightly in the shivering cold as the smoke drifted up in the air and sluggishly faded away. Mouth agape, her eyes meticulously followed the faint trails left after their disappearance. She wondered where they went, where she’ll go. If it wasn’t this late, and the water wasn’t so cold, maybe she could have gone for a swim in the ocean. If the water wasn’t so cold maybe she would have let it swallow her even. She was calculating the probable temperature of the hypothetical water she’d marry someday when the sound of slow approaching footsteps entered her field of perception. She would have preferred to ignore it but the, somehow already familiar, voice spoke up, “Hey erm...” and left her no choice but to look. And there he was, the foreign man with the swollen lip, looking culpable. There were distinct imprints of guilt in his voice as he continued, “I saw you across the parking lot…um I was actually just leaving with my friends,” he pointed at a black Mercedes parked at the far end of the lot. “They’re waiting in the car anyway so I decided -”

“So you decided now that she’s fired from being a stripper, she's probably a hooker! Lemme go ask the price she’s selling at,” her gestures and voice was comical, “you know, dude if you’ve got a kink of getting beaten up non-consensually then you’re really good at getting it cause I might just be up for round two.”

He stared at her for a good few seconds with a perplexed face, as if trying to process her stream of logic. When he started speaking, he sounded genuinely hurt, “No! Jesus Christ I came to apologize. Can you just not be defensive for one second? I’m not a monster ya know!”

His sincerity caught her off guard. She had about five thousand ways of dealing with assholes prepared and ready to go but an actually decent person? Now that was rocky territory for her.

“Well, uh, that’s a first. Go ahead I guess?” she shrugged her shoulders.

“I apologize for saying what I said back in the club. I shouldn’t have insinuated that you aren’t intelligent enough to understand my films just because of your choice of profession. It was really shitty of me to say that, and nothing can justify it either. And I feel like I caused you to be fired, that’s also weighing heavily on my soul and I don't know how to make it up to you. Just, I hope that you can forgive me and, again, I apologize, earnestly. Please tell me how I can make it up to you,” he said and looked at her with a rueful expression.

She was at a loss of words. It had been years since anyone apologized to her, let alone that sincerely. After a considerable amount of silence, she gathered her fragmented thoughts and spoke up, “Whoa, whoa man, chill. You didn’t murder my family or anything so calm down,” she held up her open palms, the cigarette almost at it’s end. “Apology accepted, okay? And don’t feel bad, I would have been fired sooner or later given my questionable behavior ever since I joined, so it’s not on your conscience. And I’m sorry too,” her index and middle finger holding the cigarette gestured at his lips, “for, um, punching you so let’s call it an even.”

“Okay,” he nodded, “yeah okay,” sounding clearly more relaxed than before.

“You know it’s a miracle how long it took for me to get fired,” she mused, “oh no it wasn’t a miracle it was sexual harassment, ah I see now. Wonder what Sam saw in me though that was worth not firing me for this long even though I pulled so much shit,” she took a long drag of her weary cigarette. “Maybe I've got a talent for getting harassed or something...who knows?”

His face tensed up again as he said, “That’s...not right,” eyes pooling with the same worried look as before.

“I was joking, chill. Humor is an excellent way to deal with most everything really, especially trauma.”

“I am sorry for what you had to go through, it’s gut-wrenching. Can’t you lodge a complaint to the police?”

“Going to the pigs? As a sex worker? Who just got fired for being drunk and punching a man in front of many eye witnesses? Now that was humor, you’re quite good at it actually.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Besides, that’s like one of the first things you gotta learn to put up with if you’re working in this business. As unfair and grim as it is, men, no actually, people don’t see sex workers as human beings and I’m just too obstinate to accept that simple fact, or maybe too much of a pussy, depending on where one’s priorities lie.”

“I…don’t know what to say.”

“There is nothing to say.”

 It was just setting in for her how beautiful he actually was. His crestfallen face was graced by two stunning green eyes, lush unruly curls sticking to his forehead, sharp jawline kissed with a  scruffy goatee and the swollen lip throwing off the symmetry just right to make him look captivating, to say the least. In the chilly December ambience his face was a soothing sight to her eyes, his sweet voice kind to her drudging ears, his presence warm to her existence. And she wanted to hold onto the warmth, just for a bit longer.

   “You said you wanted to make it up to me, right?” she said as the cigarette fell on the ground then died out under the crushing embrace of her cruel heels.                         

------------

“Well I'm Ro -” he said leaning against the passenger seat window, sitting half facing her.

“If you’re trying to say your name then don’t,” she cut him off quickly without averting her gaze from the road.

“Why?” he asked, staring at her intently yet without any emotion in particular.

“‘Cause it doesn’t matter. It’s better if we don’t know each other’s name. Names individualize people and that’s not necessary for tonight,” she answered nonchalantly as the neon lights of a passing by road sign illuminated her face and then faded into the past just as nonchalantly. 

“Okay.”

She could feel his eyes on her, but it didn’t bother her, it wasn’t tainted. There was this unusual tranquility in the atmosphere of the car, this obscure but consistent serene rhythm. She felt a bizarre comfort in his presence and she could drive like this forever, on a never-ending road spiraling towards heaven or winding down pandemonium or just dissolving into the ether, with him sitting lazily on the side.

    “Do you ever feel like that?” he spoke up absentmindedly, breaking into her almost fever dream.

“Huh?”

“The song, I feel like that often.”

She didn’t realize the radio was on, playing at quite a significant volume. She wondered if he had turned it on at some point and how long she was driving for without being present mentally.

This place will be the end of me. Take me out, LA. Take me out of LA, the voice from the radio filled the car to the brim.

 “I don’t feel like that, I know that. I know I'll die here, kinda intrinsically...do you hate this place?”

“No, not hate. I just feel like I don't fit in here. It’s the way of life, it’s quite significantly different to what I was used to. The people and the city, it all feels hollow sometimes and every now and then i catch myself yearning for what I left behind me.”

“I see. Beautiful people and their beautiful problems.”

    Silence fell in the car again. Except for the voice through the radio, Well this place is never what it seems.

 “You don’t have to make small talk, you know. I'm fine with silence,” she said, finally looking at him for a brief second.

“Oh I know,” he was looking right into her eyes, unruffled. “I wasn’t making small talk, I just wanted to talk to you. That’s all.”

------------

The bleak fluorescent tube above buzzed in solidarity as the fatigued clock on the chipped convenience store wall dragged its hands and finally managed to tick at 2 am. The attendant was leaning on the counter, trying not to fall asleep when her voice echoed in the store: “$20 on pump 2.”

“I’ll pay”, he cut in, reaching for his wallet. “Okayyy...” she replied, narrowing her eyes at his benevolence and looked around the store which was significantly emptier that other nights. She closed her eyes for a second and the memories flashed behind her lids. She used to come here frequently, around this time, with someone when everything in her world was right, just right enough for her to not to seek out falling stars every night and wish for death over and over again. When she opened her eyes a shiny pack of Parliaments caught her gaze and she quickly gestured behind the counter, “Since you’re paying, can I get a pack of those also?”

“Sure”

“I remember surviving on those alone while writing my thesis papers,” she said wistfully, “good times.”

“You went to college?”

“University actually, but yeah.”

“Good lord.”

“But I had to drop out so I couldn’t complete my Master’s in Biochemistry.”

“Why?”

“Life.”

“I flunked out my first year of college so you did way more than I did in that regard.”

“Welp, look where that got me.”

“Don’t say that!”

“What?” she scoffed.

“Anything else?” the attendant interjected, visibly tired and clearly annoyed at their conversation.

She swiftly grabbed a lighter, “Can I get this too?”

“Yeah, absolutely.”

“That’ll be all,” she tossed the lighter towards the attendant and continued, “You’re clearly doing way better than me in life.”

“Are you being sarcastic?” he replied, raising an eyebrow.

“No. I meant that seriously. I’m the one who fucked up my life and that’s a fact. Say, how did you know what you wanted to do?”

“That’ll be $30”, the attendant interjected again.

“I don’t know. I started acting as a kid and it just seemed right. It’s all I've known really and I can't see myself as anything else,” he said as he passed the money to the attendant.

“I envy that.”

“I do sometimes ponder what I would have been if not an actor.”

“Wondering too much isn’t good,” she grabbed the goods and shoved them in her coat pocket, “It might make someone into me.”

She stopped right before the glass door, pulled the lighter out and flicked it on, “I’ll use it later,” she leaned in close to him with a frivolous smirk and whispered, “to burn this city down.”

He chuckled at her sudden gaiety, “I’d gladly assist.”

Pushing the door open, she continued as he followed behind her, “Did you see the way that dude rolled his eyes to you? He definitely thought you were with a blabbering hooker and to be honest, my make up probably didn’t help either. Oh well it's not like -” her voice slowly evaporated into the gloomy gas-station lights. 

------------

“So beautiful,” he said with awe looking over the vast and apparently endless ocean which the full, eternal moon bathed with its silver glory.

She clutched at her coat sleeves as the chilly wind sent shivers down her body and said, “I know right? I’ve always found the sea to be peaceful during this time of the night.”

“It’s lovely, I’ve never been to this beach before.”

“It’s my favorite spot actually, I used to come here pretty often,” melancholia dripping from her voice. She paused for a little while as if going over a mental checklist and said, “let’s go sit down there,” and pointed towards a vague place in the distance. 

They walked down the beach for a bit side by side, knuckles occasionally brushing against each other’s, making them want to hold hands, feel the warmth of another being. But the hesitance of the yet to be known, the uncertainty of a nameless stranger clouded their minds and prevented them from reaching out.

She stopped, sat down and gestured to him to do the same by tapping the cold sand beside her. He sat a bit too far for her liking so she huddled up closer to him saying, “You blaze right?”

“Sure.”

“Cool,” she said, taking out a small bag from an inside pocket of her coat, “keep an eye out for me while I roll it.”

They sat in silence as she rolled a joint meticulously. The waves kept crashing on the shore as if fulfilling some ancient duty. Wind rustled through the empty beach. Sand glimmered sporadically under the warm light of the moon, creating a transcendental atmosphere.

He sighed and thought out loud, interrupting the intoxicating stillness of the night, “Where do we go from here?”

“Other than plotting the murder of Sam, I don’t know about me,” she replied without looking up from the task at hand, “Don’t really wanna think about it tonight. That’s why I took you along with me. I wanted someone to keep me distracted from my thoughts and I had no one to go to...then you came to apologize, like my knight in shining armor.”

He smiled wryly and said, “I see.”

“What about you? What are you gonna do about your not fitting in or what was it?”

“I don’t know either. I just miss my people. I’m not meant for here, I think.”

“So can’t you go back there? To your home I assume?”

“I can...”

“Then go. Why the fuck would you stick around if you had the option to go back?”

“Maybe.”

“Huh! I wish I had a home to go back to too.”

She could see him from the corner of her eyes, clenching his knees tight with his fingers at her words, bringing them closer to his chest. She looked up to see him staring at her with his big, beautiful, hurt-puppy eyes.

“Did that make you sad or something?” she asked, almost amused. 

“Yeah...yeah it did.”

His apparent empathy for a literal stranger who also punched him not so long ago struck her as odd and oddly enticing. He looked unreal to her in the strange moonlight, as if a remote but vivid memory. She felt as though if she reached out and touched him, he’d turn to dust and drift off with the wind. Those intense eyes and his fey beauty were getting too much for her to bear so she averted her gaze towards the ocean and said, “There’s no use for your or anyone’s sadness. You see, sadness changes nothing. Unless you can start a capital R revolution tomorrow, everything will be the same. It’ll be the same day with slight variations over and over again, things will repeat and go on and on and on until one day humanity just goes poof somehow and then the universe will go on as if we never even happened. There’s no significance of our lives, there’s no point in feeling sad about anything in this set up. One must always imagine Sisyphus happy.”

“That’s quite pessimistic, isn’t it?”

“Kinda absurdist actually, but It’s hard not to be pessimistic or defensive, when you have to lead a life like mine.”

“I understand.”

“Oh, I’m sure you do, “Glamour Boy,’” she said, licking the rolling paper.

He put his hand over his chest and feigned being hurt which made her laugh; a clear, hearty laughter. The beach echoed with a faint sound of the laughter of two stray souls as he joined in.

The joint hanged from her lips, sensual and reckless like an erotic magazine model, burning bright as she took a long drawn-out drag.

“Say, do you think the water is cold?” she said, passing the joint to him.

He took in a drag, inhaling some of her used up smoke with it too, tasting her cheap but obscenely sweet fruity lip gloss at the filter tip, “Yeah...very much so”.

She huddled up even closer to feel the heat of his body as he passed the joint back to her. Taking in another drag, she leisurely put her head on his shoulder.

The sedating smoke sank into their lungs as the sand anchored them from floating off in the elating static of the enveloping darkness.

------------

“Is this it?” she said, pulling up to a posh apartment complex, something she wouldn’t be able to afford even after paying off her debts. 

“Yeah, that’s me,” he replied absently and unbuckled his seatbelt. 

She was looking ahead at the road, expecting him to get out of the car, but he sat in silence. She looked at him and saw him laid back on the seat as if being consumed by it, tracing the edge of the left air vent softly with his fingers. He sighed and said, still looking at his busy fingers: “I feel strange and fucking awful.”

“It happens sometimes after coming down a high.”

“It’ll be a pain in the arse going to bed feeling like this.”

“I know,” her eyes travelled down the flow of his posture, giving birth to an urge of some aboriginal origin in her loins, “but you don’t have to.” 

He turned his head towards her slowly, lethargy clear in his slow breathing pattern, “What do you mean?”

“Push your seat back.”

“Why?”

“Just do it.”

He furrowed his brows, alarmed by her sudden gratuitous command. He looked at her; motionless as if not even breathing awaiting his compliance and her eyes glinted with expectancy. He pushed his seat back, as far as it could go then parted his lips to say something but before the words could get out, she virtually jumped on top then sat astride him.

 A deathly stillness engrossed the car as her previous bellicose energy returned to the atmosphere, only this time rather ardent in nature. His heart, instantaneously racing, almost audible to her. 

“You know,” she said taking off her top, “dopamine is a hormone and neurotransmitter that’s an important part of your brain’s reward system, and it can elevate your mood and make you feel really good.”

Eyes wide with surprise, he struggled to keep his gaze fixed on her face as she unbuttoned his shirt. Her fingertips snaked up and down his smooth chest as if caressing a sumptuous painting one is not allowed to touch. She felt his taut muscle tighten at her touch, veins kindled with a hot rush pulsing under. Burying her face in the hollow of his neck, she felt the heat of his body as she pressed her chest against his. His breathing picked up it’s pace even more at the contact with her flushed skin.

“Do you ever get lonely?” she spoke up letting her lips skim over his bare shoulder.

“Terribly,” his voice breathy as he placed his hands on her hips hesitantly, not possessively, but affectionately.

“I do too.”

“What do we do about it?”

“Maybe we don’t do anything.”

“Maybe.” he said resting his right cheek against her head, “or maybe we keep each other company.”

“But for how long?”

“However long we need to.”

A mirthless laugh rippled from her lips then through his skin. She pulled back to look him in the eyes, curious green mixed with an unfamiliar kind of sorrow, a sorrow too costly for her. “Lust and attraction shut off the prefrontal cortex of the brain, which includes rational behavior,” she said, knocking softly on his temple.

“Makes sense.”

Cupping his face, she stroked his swollen lips with her rough thumbs, making him wince in response. The purple bruise steadily forming on the side of his mouth marred his flawless complexion yet his allure only enhanced. Her thumb rubbed on the bruise with reckless abandon, his flinches testifying to that. Withdrawing her hands from his face, she left a light peck on the bruise and said, “Slap me.”

“What?”

“Slap me, come on, I'm giving you a chance to get back at me for earlier.”

“No!”

“Prude!”

“Hey! I just don’t want to hurt you, especially not as revenge or what not,” he sounded genuinely offended.

She leaned in, “But I want to get hurt, silly,” her lips ghosting over his as she whispered, “Endorphins are our body’s natural pain reducer and it so happens to increase when we engage in reward-producing activities, such as eating, working out, or having sex.” She pulled away and continued, “So hit me. Hard.” His adam’s apple bobbed up then down as he searched at her face, as if trying to find some sort of sign. His fingers dug in her hips, indicating the upcoming crude impact. Her palms laid flat against his chest as his left hand rose then crashed against her face. Her fingers curled in response as she gasped weakly, eyes shut closed but the tensity clear in the lines on her eyelids and forehead. 

“Ah... that was good,” she said as if talking to herself, caressing her cheek. When she opened her eyes, she found him staring with uncertain eyes, the doubt readable in the way he bit his lips. 

“Just like that, once more,” her firm voice ringed in the vehicle. His hand cruelly collided once again with her face, leaving her face warm and red. 

“Good boy,” she cooed as the sharp sting eddied on her cheek and then through her whole body, easing her off some unknown yet intrinsic discomfort. Her chest pounded in sync to his as she spoke up, “Do it for me once again, won’t you?”

Pressing his teeth even deeper into his lips, he struck her once again, with as much strength as he had. A white light flashed before her eyes, her ears ringed as she sat in silence for a bit. When her vision became clear, she held his face between her palms. Leaning closer, she rested her temple against his and murmured, “Such a good boy.”

Sweat dripped down as her nose grazed up the side of his neck, she could feel him growing hard through his pants. She buried her face in his curls and breathed in. He smelt sugary, sweet to the extent of almost making her nauseous. She whispered against his ear, “You’ve got a boner...it turned you on this much to hurt me?”

“It’s, um, n-not really that part it’s the -” he stammered in embarrassment.

 “Ugh men,” she cut him off and rolled her eyes playfully. “But since we’ve got a situation at hand, and you’ve been so good to me, I think you deserve some relief for yourself,” she said, tugging at his waistband. To which he responded eagerly, elevating his hips just enough so she could slip his pants off as much as possible. His head sank back into the headrest as her hands wrapped around his cock. Her hand gilded up and down his length as her other hand ran through his hair, pulling lightly. Resting his forehead on her shoulder, he quivered and moaned softly as she lovingly yet mercilessly worked on him. His breath hitched sharply as she stroked the tip of his cock with her thumb, making him groan and twitch under her touch. She was about to pick up the pace when he grabbed her wrist abruptly. “Wait!” he rasped, “I wanna...feel you.”

He panted, trying to catch his breath and said, “Let’s take this inside, there might be people around.”

“Why? Are you afraid of getting photographed with a hooker by the paparazzi, Mr. Actor?"

“No”, he answered, the same hurt as earlier could be heard in his voice, the type of hurt when one is misunderstood by someone they love, “I just - I just want it to be nice.”

“Let’s not make it too nice lest you fall in love with me,” she said sternly. “Besides, you should be more concerned about getting STDs. There should be some condoms in the glove box and also tissues for later.”

He brought his face closer to hers, looked at her lips and said, “You’ve got such a mean mouth, you know that?”

“And you like it?”

“Perhaps”, he replied then kissed her, deeply. Holding her face in his head, he bit her lips which made her moan in his mouth. After running out of breath she pulled away, still tasting his saliva on her tongue as he reached behind her and rifled through the glove compartment. Having found what he wanted, he turned on the radio then returned his focus to her; she was hiking up her dress and awkwardly slipping off her panties in the short space.

Heavy bass filled the car, I wanna be your vacuum cleaner breathing in your dust, as the sky started to light up with shades of azure and tangerine. Her tongue blended with his as she took his cock in her. Their bodies pressed and flushed against each other as a steady rhythm flowed through them. Her nails scratched his nape, as he kissed her neck, nibbling at her collarbone. Her head shot back as he thrust up into her, frantic and keen. His groans muffled in her chest, her moans melting into his hair as their hips clashed against one another.

Maybe I just wanna be yours.

I wanna be yours.

------------   

The sparkling rays of the breaking dawn illuminated his face as he cleaned himself off and got dressed. She marveled from the driver’s seat at the magnificence of the sight of him in afterglow. There was something in him, something innate, that made him stand out from anyone she ever came across. He was made for the screen, he was made to shine, and she wondered whether or not he’ll remember her afterwards. It was for the better if he didn’t, she thought to herself, as this was probably one of the lowest points in his life, while that night was most definitely one of the highlights of hers. The sheer dichotomy was glaring at her soul when he spoke up, bringing her attention back to the present, “I was wondering if you’d like to -”

“Look if you want my name or number, then that’s just not gonna happen,” she said with a sigh, “It’s the oxytocin flooding your brain. Increased levels of oxytocin facilitate attachment and bonding and shit so, like, don’t be fooled.”

“But it’s not that, I feel a connection between us...something I haven’t felt with anyone here before.”

He averted his eyes from her and looked out the window. His hand lingered on the door handle for a second before he stepped out of the car. Turning his back towards the car, he walked into the apartment complex, without saying anything further. Her foot pressed on the accelerator, as the car drove past the buildings. A Parliament washed out the leftover taste of him in her mouth as she rolled down the window to let the nauseously sweet scent dissipate into the cold morning air. 

“It is that. Believe me, I know. There is nothing between us. Whatever connection you feel is your hormones doing bullshit things.”

“You’re just evading me”

“I’m not. I do actually know. Okay, for instance you feel really tired and sleepy right now, right?”

“Yeah”

“That’s the parasympathetic nervous system down-regulating your body and a shit load of vasopressin coursing through you”

“But that could also be because we stayed up all night and got high and just had sex”

“Why don’t you understand? It’s all chemicals, everything! There is nothing called love and whatever the fuck people feel is just their chemicals doing somersaults. There is nothing between us, we don’t know each other. There can be nothing either, look at the circumstances. People like you shouldn’t have to do anything with people like me unless it requires a monetary transaction.”

“But i can help, with whatever you’re dealing with”, he said reaching to place his hand over hers, “we can help each other”

“and what exactly do you think i’m dealing with?, she asked, withdrawing her hand, eyes narrowed at him.

“I don’t know yet”

“Exactly. You don’t know anything. I’m not some sad little girl who went to college then got depressed but in a sexy way so maybe she did drugs or whatever and dropped out and now strips for fucking aesthetic reasons probably. No honey, I’m involved with shit that can drag you down faster than a meth withdrawal and my life is a living testimony of that, take my word for it. So, go get some rest. Sleep out your saviour complex and live out your promising life when you wake up.”

[watchmegetobsessed]

And I always will - Tom Holland

❄️ FANFICmas 2020 ❄️

Read more about FANFICmas here!

week 3 babies! it’s been so long since i last wrote for Tom and this story just screamed for him when I made up the plot. so here is some cute friends to lovers christmas edition! updated the fanficmas post with next week’s fic and added another one for the 24th, check it out if you are interested!

word count: 4.2k

masterlist

It’s not a date, it’s not a date, it’s not a date!

That’s your mantra for the evening and the closer the time is coming when Tom is picking you up, the louder you’re shouting it in your mind. Well, while it was sure he was nowhere near your apartment you physically kept telling yourself, heart pounding in your chest with each passing moment, but when he texted you that he’d be there in five you shut yourself up.

Stepping to the mirror you take one last look at yourself in your simple black dress and red blazer, a simple but fitting look for the annual Christmas party of the company you’re working for. You tug your hair behind your ears to make your earrings more apparent, they are like little red Christmas ornaments, the perfect touch up for the occasion and you also happen to know Tom loves how you wear them around the holidays every year.

This whole thing started a week ago when he was over for a movie night, something you often did when he was in town and you whined about having to go to the company party alone again and listen to your boss comment on how she was already married at your age. She is a very old school woman with strong beliefs that a woman should be able to catch herself a man at an early age if she doesn’t want to end up alone for the rest of her life.

You were only twenty three, not at all in rush to settle down, but you hated the teasing and commenting every year. It happened all through the year, but it was the worst at the Christmas party, because then she had the time to talk to you without the distraction of work, so she was able to touch on more personal topics as well.

Tom listened to you patiently, letting you rage about the irritation even the thought brings to you every year before proposing his idea.

“I could go with you and pretend to be your boyfriend.”

The words rolled off his tongue so easily, like it was nothing at all, when in reality it put your stomach into a knot immediately. It might have not mean anything to him other than just a friendly request but it meant so much more to you, being in love with the man for years.

Cliché, right? Falling for your best friend and keeping your emotions bottled up because you’re too afraid to come clear and possibly ruin your friendship. It sounds like a horrible teen movie, but this is the truth. It’s not something you can just blurt out without having to overthink about all the possible outcomes that would send you into a rabbit hole of the worst case scenarios until you are scared to talk about your feelings for life.

You were hesitant about his idea, but like every time, he managed to talk your ears off and convince that it would be a great idea.

“Lots are already thinking we are a couple, it would be easy!” he assured you, and he gave you a sly, cocky smirk, one you can never resist. So naturally, you said yes at the end and that brings you to this evening, when you’re nervously waiting for him to arrive to pick you up so the two of you could go to that stupid party together, pretending to be a couple.

You keep pacing back and forth in the small hallway as you wait for him to arrive and when you hear the knock on the door you jump.

It’s not a date, Y/N! Just pretentious!

You keep telling yourself your little mantra as you stride over to the door and open it for him. And there he is, handsome as ever, wearing black dress pants and a nice, crispy looking white shirt under his wool coat, the top buttons of the shirt left undone to let your greedy eyes a little hint of his toned chest underneath the fabric. You need to stop yourself from sucking on your breath, he looks so great, not just now, but all the damn time, making you feel lightheaded with just a simple smile.

“You look beautiful, girlfriend,” he tells you, putting a teasing tone into the last word and though it was just a joke, it made your heart flutter for sure.

“Thank you, boyfriend,” you shyly smile, the word tastes so sweet on your tongue, but there’s some hidden pain behind it.

“Ready to go?” You nod and grab your coat and purse before shutting the door behind you and locking the door.

The ride is short, but feels like forever. You’re anxiously chewing on your bottom lip, heart pounding in your chest and you fear that Tom might hear it and question you about it. This is so nerve-wrecking, and so not how you imagined to be his girlfriend for the first time.

Though it’s the closest you’ll get to the title, probably, you tell yourself, stomach churning at the thought.

“Hey,” Tom’s soft voice grabs your attention when he stops at a red light. “Nervous?”

“Just a little,” you nod shortly. “I just… want to my boss to take me seriously for once,” you lie, because there’s absolutely no way you are telling him it’s him that makes you shit your panties.

“I’ll be right there with you and we’ll charm the shit out of that woman,” he smirks making you laugh at his words.

“Hope so,” you mumble with a sigh, turning back to stare out the window.

Tom parks down in an empty spot near the venue that holds the part and he helps you out of the car giving you a hand, but he doesn’t let go of it once you are standing on your feet, holding your hand and even lacing your fingers together. When he gives it a gentle squeeze you peek up at him and notice that he is looking down at your with a warm smile as if he is trying to tell you that it’s gonna be alright without words. You try to swallow your anxious thoughts and hope he doesn’t find your hand too sweaty as the two of you head inside.

You work for a huge marketing company, one of the biggest ones in London. You landed an assistant job two years ago, fresh out of college and worked yourself up to be a fulltime graphic designer, mostly working on visuals for smaller campaigns running in the company, but you were proud of your work and enjoyed it to the fullest. One of the lead designers is rumored to retire sometime next year and you were hoping to be considered for his spot, thought there are quite a lot who has been working there for a longer time, but you felt like you have proven yourself to be suitable for the job. Tonight you are praying to charm your boss so she would move your name forward in the process and earn you a few good points at the admission, but this meant that you have to make her believe you are the definition of couple goals so she would get off your back and finally see that you are trying your best to move forward in life.

The venue is one big ball room, several tables set on the sides with the department’s name on the table to let people know where to sit, the luxurious decoration making the whole place appear like Winter Wonderland straight out of a fairytale. There’s a stage at the very back with a DJ already playing and a dancefloor in the middle, some guests are busting their best dance moves there, while others are enjoying the open buffet that runs along the two sides, tables filled with the most delicious looking meals.

A waiter greets you both, offering you champagne and you gladly take a glass while Tom shakes his head with a soft “I’m driving, thank you”.

Looking around you see some familiar faces but there are a lot new ones. The company has a whole office building with five floors and one usually stays on their own floor throughout the working days, you don’t interact much, so it’s hard to tell who you are working with on a wider level.

“Do you know where we are sitting?” Tom asks leaning closer to your ear so you hear what he is saying over the music and as his hot breath hits your neck it sends a shiver down your spine.

He is so close and his hand feels so warm on mine, you think to yourself while your eyes scan the place, trying to find your colleagues. When you spot them you pull Tom in their direction, plastering a nervous smile on your lips.

“Hi everyone!” you greet them arriving to the big, circular table. You work with a team of ten designers, some of them are older, but there are two around your age. Sally is twenty-five, her desk is right across yours and you’ve become closer, eating lunch together almost every day, and then there’s Owen, who is basically the office’s gossip source, always knows what happened to who and he makes sure to give the word away to the right people. Your older colleagues find him nosy, but you think it’s funny how he can still get any information from anyone even though he is known to have a big mouth. There’s just something about a tall, gay dude who approaches you with a sly smile, it’s like he puts a spell on people and they magically start talking. He often joins you and Sally for lunch, the three of you forming a club of young, ambitious people, holding each other up so you don’t get crushed by the judgy thirties.

When Owen looks up from his cocktail he almost spits it out seeing Tom standing next to you, holding your hand firmly.

“Little miss Y/N?! What is this supposed to be?” he gasps dramatically and you just chuckle shaking your head at him.

“This, is my uhh—This is my boyfriend, Tom,” you nervously introduce him and he waves around politely.

“Hi, nice to meet you all,” he calls out and most just acknowledge him with a nod and a hello, but Owen is over the roof that you just appeared with Tom Holland by your side.

“Why haven’t you tell me you were fucking Spider-Man himself?” he continues to rage and you almost choke on your own saliva hearing his words. Your cheeks start to heat up, but seemingly Tom doesn’t feel as uncomfortable as you, he just chuckles lightly, before pulling out your seat to help you sit before he takes the seat next to you.

Sally, who is sitting between you and Owen just slaps his chest in a warning manner.

“Control yourself!” she scolds him, but it only earns her an eye-roll.

“I’m sorry, but I feel offended I didn’t know about this,” he explains pointing at you and Tom.

“I hope you understand that I like to keep my private life, well, private. So it’s my fault Y/N hasn’t been bragging about us.” Tom rescues you from making up some stupid lie and you’re happy you didn’t have to say a word, so you just chug down half of your champagne in hopes it would ease your nerves a little.

Surprisingly, Owen backs off immediately, giving you a knowing look, as if he understood so well the life of a well-known actor even though he was far from being one.

“Oh, totally. I get it, don’t worry about it, Tom. Though I’m sure she’s been dying to talk about you all along.”

“Has she?” Tom teasingly looks down at you and you just let out an awkward chuckle nodding.

“Yeah. Exactly,” you mumble finishing off your champagne and putting it to the table. Tom can easily tell how nervous you are, so he puts a hand to your knee under the table and gives it a gentle squeeze, leaving it there afterwards, but it just rises your anxiety level. You are highly aware of every touch and look, as if your senses became hypersensitive all of a sudden, but only to Tom.

“So how long you two have been together?” Sally asks with a warm smile, trying her best to steal the opportunity from Owen to talk so he doesn’t say anything inappropriate and you are endlessly thankful to her for that.

“Um, couple of months,” you say the first thing that comes to your mind and from the corner of your eye you see Tom just nod along your words.

“And how do you know each other if I might ask?”

“We’ve been friends for a long time, actually,” Tom speaks up this time. “Y/N’s dad used to work with my dad when we were younger and we sort of became friends. I was always in love with her, though it took me a long time to grow the balls to ask her out.” You are stunned at how easily he is talking about something that’s not real, as if he has been building up this story in his mind for a while, but that can’t be the case of it.

“Oh, this is so cute! And did you feel the same way?” Sally asks you. Licking your lips you glance over at Tom.

“Yeah. Loved him all along,” you softly say and it’s the truth, however he will probably never know about it.

“It’s like in the movies!” Sally gasps, holding her hand to her chest.

Tom’s eyes still hold yours and he gives your knee another squeeze that makes you take a deep breath before you tear your gaze away from him, feeling giddy and lightheaded.

You stay at the table a little longer before the two of you head to fill your plates before everything is fully gone. It’s kind of a relief to get away from Owen and Sally, you hated lying to them, but you had no choice.

“Everything alright?” Tom asks, brushing a hand against the small of your back as the two of you stand at the buffet, looking at the food.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” you nod with a weak smile. “Just a little nervous,” you admit.

“Don’t be, we are doing just fine,” he smirks and leaning down he kisses your forehead gently. It’s nothing new, he often does this and the gesture always manages to pull you out of your boiling thoughts and it has the same effect this time as well. You feel like you can breathe again after holding it in for a long time.

You carelessly glance over your shoulder as you wait for Tom to finish packing his plate up with veggies when you spot your boss talking to a guy who you recall works as an accountant on a higher level. Her eyes move just enough to meet yours and you suck on your breath when she spots Tom next to you, right when he reaches out mindlessly sliding a hand to your waist.

“Oh God, she saw us,” you mumble under your breath as you watch her excuse herself from the guy and head in your way.

“Hm? What?” Tom lifts his head and his eyes quickly find the tall, lean woman walking towards you with ambitious and confident steps. Mrs. Winston is the kind of woman that could easily intimidate any high power man in the industry, and she worked hard to be where she is now. However, you don’t necessarily always share her beliefs of the world and life, for instance her vision of a woman marrying a man as young as possible.

“Y/N? Who is this handsome man you brought tonight?” she asks right away, eyes landing on Tom who has put his plate to the table behind him and circled an arm around your waist. Before you could even get a word out, Tom extends his other hand out for her, with a charming smile.

“Tom Holland. It’s nice to meet you, Mrs. Winston. I’m Y/N’s boyfriend.”

Oh God, you’ll never get used to hearing him say that and you’re amazed he remembered her name even though you just mentioned it earlier.

“Nice to meet you too. Call me Carol,” she smiles, seemingly already loving Tom and honestly, you can’t blame her. “I saw that you were bringing a plus one, but I was expecting a relative,” she comments finally paying you a glance and you can feel the sharpness in it, how she partially meant it as an insult, but you just smile at her widely.

“Oh, no. Hope you don’t mind it.”

“Not at all. So tell me, why do you look so familiar, Tom?”

“I’m an actor, you might have seen me in movies.” It takes Mrs. Winston to put the picture together, but when she eventually does, she gives you a highly approving look.

“Well yes! Now I remember! I think my son in law is a big fan.”

“Give him my best wishes,” Tom nods with a warm smile.

“You know, I’m happy to see Y/N finally with a worthy man by her side. I always told her to grab herself a good one before she runs out of time,” Mrs. Winston starts her usual sermon.

“Oh, I think Y/N is perfect on her own, I think she is an amazing individual,” Tom replies and your and Mrs. Winston’s eyebrows rise at the same time. “I don’t think a woman needs a man by her side to make her complete and I admire her strength as a person on her own, not just in a relationship.”

“Don’t you think a woman needs the support of a man to succeed in this man dominated world we live in?”

“Not at all,” he shakes his head confidently and you feel him pull you closer to his side while you listen to his words curiously. “I think women deserve the recognition of them and their work and not to have it overshadowed by any men. I’m proud to be Y/N’s boyfriend and I’ll support her through everything, but I would never let anyone think of her as just a part of our relationship, or the person connected to me, because she is so much more than that and I want everyone to recognize that.”

You are at a loss of words, you knew Tom was a feminist, supporting women’s rights passionately, but you never heard him talk about it in a close relation with you. His words twisted your heart in the best possible way and though tonight is all about faking, something is telling you that these are his genuine thoughts, except the part about your relationship, but he could easily mean just your friendship under that.

Mrs. Winston seems stunned at the honest and forward answer, though you can tell it surprised her that someone went against her beliefs. However, it doesn’t seem like she is upset about it, more like she appreciates the balls that someone spoke up.

Her eyes fall back on you and there’s a small smile tugging at her red lips.

“He is a keeper, Y/N,” she simply tells you before walking away.

“Holy shit,” you breathe out when she is far away. Tom gives your waist another squeeze as he glances down at you with a smirk. “It’s like you put a spell on her!”

“I’m a charming bastard,” he shrugs smugly before grabbing his plate from the table and the two of you make your way back to the table.

Following the little talk with your boss you feel a lot more relaxed, knowing that Tom charmed the shit out of the woman. Now you are starting to enjoy the party, laughing with Sally and Owen and you’re happy to see that Tom is getting along with them pretty well too.

When the DJ starts playing All I Want For Christmas, the whole room cheers as one and most guests rush to the dance floor, that includes you and Tom as well.

He keeps you close, twirling you and moving around with you to the song, even singing it just like most people around you. Looking around you spot Mrs. Winston dancing as well, a lot more reserved than you, but she looks like she’s genuinely having a good time. She winks at you when your eyes meet and she sees Tom wrap an arm around your waist. You feel yourself blushing and you turn back to him, earning a sweet smile from him as he is enjoying the party.

When the song ends, the DJ slows it down a few knots playing Christmas Lights by Coldplay, people start to leave the dancefloor, only couple staying to slow dance to the song. Your eyes meet Tom and you thought he might want to go back to the table, but instead, his arms wrap around your waist and he pulls you to his chest, starting to sway to the rhythm.

You try to ignore the butterflies in your stomach as you feel his body pressed against yours, his hands holding your waist firmly, and you cheek is next to his, occasionally brushing in the motions. You run your hands up his broad shoulders and rest them behind his neck, a shiver running down your spine when you hear him sing the lines into your ear:

“Like some drunken Elvis singing, I go singing out of tune, saying how I always loved you darling and I always will.”

You lean back just enough to look into his eyes, feeling like the words he sang were a message addressed straight to you and you needed to see it in his look. When your gazes meet your heart skips a beat when they validate your thoughts. He sang those lines on purpose and he wanted you to hear them, but still, you can’t bring yourself to say or do something. You just stand there, wrapped in his arms, eyes lost in his, swaying gently to the song.

He brings a hand up to your face and tugs your hair behind your ears, his yes fall to your earring and he can’t help the smile that tugs on his lips.

“I don’t know if this is the right time, but I feel like it is,” he softly starts, seemingly having a hard time to find his words. “Y/N?”

“Yeah?” you breathe out faintly.

“I love you.”

The words almost push you out of your balance, and you feel like you are falling down in a deep, endless hole. He said the words you’ve been aching to hear from him for so long, he really said them and he is looking at you with eyes you’ve only seen in the mirror when you were thinking about telling him about your feelings. But this time the look belongs to him and he is breathlessly waiting for you to say something in return.

“I love you too,” you softly tell him, brushing your fingers gently along his jawline. He breaks a relieved smile, but then furrows his eyebrows in a serious expression.

“Just to make it sure, you are not talking about a friendly love, right?”

You can’t help but let out a chuckle, shaking your head at him.

“No. Not friendly,” you assure him and he sighs in relief again.

“Great, because it would have been really awkward.”

You bite into your bottom lip, shyly staring up at him, a little lost about what should be said or done next, when you hear Owen call out from behind you.

“You guys are standing under the mistletoe! Kiss!”

First you turn to look at him and then you follow the direction where he is pointing and you see that you are in fact standing under a little mistletoe, hanging from the ceiling. Turning to face Tom you shyly smile at him, while he looks way more confident in himself.

“We can’t break the rule,” he chuckles teasingly, making you laugh as well before leaning down he captures your lips in a sweet, breathtaking kiss.

You feel like a teenager again, the butterflies are going wild in your stomach and you’re pretty sure your hands are shaking, but you couldn’t care less. All you could think about is Tom and that you were finally kissing him. Teenage you would lose her mind knowing you finally got to kiss him, after all those years of secretly dreaming about it.

Tom kisses you again and again until you both are breathing heavily, so he pulls back a little, resting his forehead against yours, his hands keeping you close to him.

“Wanna get out of here?” he breathes out and you nod your head eagerly.

“Fuck yes,” you chuckle making him laugh as well before he grabs your hand and pulls you back to the table to grab your stuff and then head out.

You don’t bother to say goodbye, or tell anyone you’ve left, you were busy feeling Tom’s hands touching you wherever he could, his lips finding yours every other minute. You both are a hot mess in the car on the way home and when you finally reach your apartment, you turn on the Christmas lights in your room, before Tom pulls you down to the bed and makes love to you all through the night.

-

general/forever taglist for Tom Holland

i do separate taglists for different people, but not for different works of mine! if you ask to be on my Tom taglist, you’ll be tagged in all of my Tom fics!

@zaahidahhh @shawn-youth  @wildflower-cth @imaginashawnns @haute-shawn  @learning-howto-be-myselfx3 @cutepenguin1 @madatmendes @harrysleftchelseaboot  @sarcasticallywitty15 @dontworrysunflower​

if you’d like to be taken off or added to the list, please let me know!

[nightingale-interactive]

Hello dear author! Your game looks so interesting! I saw that scenario that you wrote about Chris and I was wondering if you're okay with writing snippets about the characters? I don't want to pressure you in any way because I know that writing snippets is really tiring sometimes, so feel free to ignore the next part if you want 😅

Like I said, if it's not too much trouble, can I ask for a scenario about Chris as well? Imagine that, in a stage where MC and Chris are in a relationship but can't quite reveal it yet, there's a ball or event and someone is heavily flirting with MC and she is trying to be polite not to make anyone suspect of their relationship, what makes the other person more invested in the flirting. Does Chris step in? And can you, please, add what happens after when MC is alone with Chris? I hope this wasn't too confusing hahaha. Anyway, your story is lovely and I wish you a lot of luck writing it! Sending tons of love and a reminder to take care of yourself! ❤️

I don't mind doing so at all. I hope you like the little snippet I made. (I'm sorry if there are grammar errors/it being slightly rough around the edges.)

It was like an incessant buzzing in the back of his head. His body trying to tell him that something wasn’t right. That he needs to pay attention to something. To what? He hadn’t the slightest inclination.

Casually raising his whiskey to his lips, Christian looks around the room. His blue gaze arcing over the room in search of the one thing, the one person, that he knew was the cause of this feeling. The only being in the known universe that could affect him so.

He hadn’t spoken with her since the party began. Only a brief kiss being shared before they split to go to separate elevators. Even though he wants nothing more than to arrive with her on his arm. She was the fixer; the one who knew what to do and when to do it. He would trust her plan for the time being.

It only took a moment of searching for him to spot her. Like a moth to a flame, he hones in. Watching the radiance that always seems to exude from every movement. He doesn’t think he’ll ever see a sight as beautiful as her.

His look sours, however, when he notices that he’s not the only one to notice. An ever-darkening gaze watching as one of the Senators from Pennsylvania tried to flirt with her. Tried being the operative word. As Christian could see, from even where he was standing, that she wasn’t reciprocating. That she was desperately looking for a way out of the situation. Something that seems to entice the man even more.

Meeting her frightened gaze causes his to turn red. Anger pulsing through him like a raging river. Coursing without any hope of being contained. Quickly downing the rest of his drink, Christian makes his way across the room. Easily passing various diplomats and dignitaries-- he truly had to give his agents a bigger raise-- he stops right behind the rambling senator.

“-elling you that you’re the prettiest sight here, darling.”

Pressing his lips into a thin line, trying to contain a growl, Christian lays his hand on the man's shoulder. Doing his best to not punch him as he whips him around. A twisted sense of satisfaction curls within him as brown eyes widen. “Senator Abernathy,” he says with disgust in his voice. “Are you making advances that are not wanted? Or reciprocated?”

Abernathy shakes his head. Fear clearly showcasing itself across his face at the clear ire the President was showing him. “Of course not, sir.”

Christian tilts his head. “Really? From what I heard it seems that you’re propositioning someone that doesn’t wish to be propositioned.” Chancing a glance towards her, Christian visibly relaxes at the sight of her relief. The fear had abated in her eyes at his arrival. Even though it kills him that it was there in the first place. Shifting his stance, Christian straightens himself to his full height. Staring down at the clearly cowed man. “If you’re looking for pretty sights, why don’t you head outside? The Lincoln Memorial looks absolutely divine at this time of night.”

Without having to even make a signal, his agents were on the senator. Quickly escorting the now bumbling man out of the room. Looking back into her beautiful gaze, Christian has to restrain himself from reaching out for her. To just hold her in his arms. Making sure that she was okay. To apologize for not getting there fast enough. For not being with her when he should have been.

Always being on the same page as him, her gaze told him everything he needed to know. Later.

-------

The moment he steps foot in the Residence with her behind him, Christian pulls her into his arms. His nose nuzzles into her hair as she burrows against his chest. He needs to be surrounded by her scent. To have her in his arms. He needs to make sure that she is okay.

Running his fingers gently through her hair, he brings his other hand to rub her back. Loving the way she melts into his touch. All of her earlier tension melted at his gentle embrace.

Lowering his head, he brushes his lips against her ear. Smiling softly at the slight shiver the action invokes. “Are you okay, my love?”

She nods. Still not lifting her head from his chest. Her words were muffled by the fabric of his shirt. “Yes.”

Chuckling softly, Christian gently tilts her head up with two fingers underneath her chin. Watching, with warmth in his gaze, as she finally met his. “There’s my beautiful girl. I was wondering where you were hiding.”

He laughs at her playful giggle. Her words interlaced with mirth. “Stop it, Christian.”

“Never,” he murmurs. Leaning down to press a chaste kiss to her lips. His heart was still swooning over the sound he had been able to cause. “I’ll never stop as long as it means I get to hear you laugh.”

“And if I told you that I would never laugh again because of it?”

“Then I would never speak another word.” He presses his forehead against hers. Gazes never break as he brings a hand to rest against her cheek. “Your laugh is second to only one sound, my love. I would die a thousand times in order to hear it just once.”

Shaking her head, another soft laugh falls from her lips. “You’re such a sap.”

At the insult, Christian easily wraps his arms around her waist and hoists her into the air. Laughing at her indignant shouts for him to put her down. Only letting her go to gently put her on the bed. All the love he felt for her showcasing in his gaze.

Settling beside her, Christian pulls her into his arms once more. His body immediately settled with having her back in his arms. “Yes,” he replies. “But I’m your sap.”

With her face not pressed in his chest, he almost misses her next words.

“I love you.”

He pulls her impossibly closer to him at that. Whispering back just as softly. “And there’s the first.”

[twh-news]

Interview: Makeup Artist Douglas Noe on Loki’s Looks Through the Years & Creating Anew for ‘Loki’ [EXCLUSIVE]

Douglas Noe has been in Hollywood for three decades. An award-winning makeup artist, he’s worked on projects such as World War Z, Planet of the Apes, Spider-Man 3, I Saw the Light, and Birth of a Nation. On top of these impressive credits, he’s also been Tom Hiddleston’s personal makeup artist since joining the MCU in The Avengers, designing all of the looks for Loki’s subsequent appearances.

Noe has been nominated for three Emmys with one win, and five Makeup Artist and Hairstylist (MUAHS) Awards resulting in two MUAHS awards. His skills include creating making natural and period looks, prosthetics, hair, and tattoos.

Along with being the head of the makeup department for the most recent Disney+ series Loki, Noe is also creating looks for the new Netflix comedy series True Story starring Kevin Hart and Wesley Snipes.

We had a chance to chat with Douglas Noe about his work on Loki, The Avengers, the incomparable value of teamwork on set, and most importantly, Richard E. Grant.

Nerds and Beyond: So you started your Marvel journey with The Avengers, but what drew you to your field in the first place? And how did you get your start?

Douglas Noe: Star Wars was a huge influence to me as a young boy, both sketching and drawing, and a little bit of sculpting but not much. Cut to 1983, Michael Jackson’s “Thriller” comes out and I find a magazine called Fangoria on the newsstands where I can order blood and wax and pencils and fake hair. So, I started playing with these things. I was also taken with the horror movie craze that was happening in the early 80s — Nightmare on Elm Street and Friday the 13th, and others, obviously.

In High School, in 1984, I joined choir thinking I would get an easy credit, but my voice had not changed. So the choral instructor had been waiting for a boy soprano to do a theatrical opera presentation. So with that I sang the lead, I quit choir after that, because my peers were merciless, but, I learned the world of theatrical makeup which I hadn’t been introduced to.

I did years of theater. I went to a performing arts high school — it’s called Fort Hayes School for the Performing Arts in Columbus, Ohio — graduated, went to beauty school, and continued working in Ohio doing industrial, commercial, theater, and opera [makeup]. Worked for Maybelline and Revlon, got restless, worked in Cincinnati on my first film in the summer of 1990, it was July so 31 years ago, A Rage in Harlem. And my boss said you come to Los Angeles, I’ll make sure you get on your feet.

Nerds and Beyond: So you mentioned that it’s been about 31 years since your career started, what’s changed over the course of those 30 years in your field?

Douglas: How much time do we have? I’d say the biggest, biggest change would probably be the way we make these things now. Although another large change, more specific, would be the materials that we use. There’s a constant evolution and reinvention of almost all aspects of the materials that a makeup artist uses. That said, I have to shine a light on the way we do things now with the onset of digital and digital cameras. Shooting on film now has almost completely fallen by the wayside. Film was very forgiving, quite frankly, and now it’s not so forgiving. And because of that, the bar has been raised. The wonderful thing about this journey is watching my peers just get better and better and better, my colleagues rising to meet the challenge of not having anything to hide from with this new way we make films.

Nerds and Beyond: So, sometimes you kind of throw prosthetics to the wayside in favor of a more traditional makeup. How do you make that decision on which one to go with?

Douglas: That’s an excellent question. The decision is based purely on what are we going to see. That’s where I start, what is the lighting? I have a conversation with the director of photography and I find out what is the dynamic. Obviously, I know from the script whether it’s an interior or exterior, or if we’re exterior but we’re going to be on a stage, if it’s day or night. These variables all play into my decision as to whether or not I should rely on my theatrical experience and ability to paint 2D to appear 3D, or go ahead and make small prosthetics and put them where I need to put them and use actual prosthetics in lieu of paint.

That has everything to do with lighting, locations, logistics, and because most of his [Loki’s] wounds appear on his arm and some on his face in the Void, it’s all very moody and very dark. And again, the theatrical quality of the paint is not going to be altered by the changing light, it’s just going to react the same way the rest of the face is going to react. It’s purple light, it’s going to make everything have a purple hue. There was no accounting for any correction that didn’t need to be done. There wasn’t anything wrong with that. It’s real.

Nerds and Beyond: So, you did make up for not only Tom on Loki, but you helped plan out the looks for everybody?

Douglas: Yes, what I do is I surround myself with strong talent. It’s all about team. I designed Wunmi Mosaku, Gugu Mbatha-Raw, Sophia DiMartino, and Tom [Hiddleston]. Regarding the rest of it, Neil Ellis, both Dennis Liddiard and I, added to the elements of his scars and wounds, which you would only see in close-ups.

The rest of it, the parameters are set — Blade Runner to Mad Men — and stay in those confines. And obviously, I choose color palettes for the women and there are parameters set for the men, but then it’s about team. I’m a big one on a team and not putting my thumbprints on other people’s work, but rather build other people up so they feel like they own what they’re doing.

My team consists of artists that also have stronger resumes and quite frankly, skills that exceed mine. It’s the mutual trust that allows us to keep a high level of artistic integrity in every aspect of the job. It also means I get the very best from my team, and it shows on the screen.

So, I didn’t have every look in my hand. Dennis Liddiard designed the Mobius character and I had Ned Neidhardt run with Gugu and turn up the volume on some of the elements that she already possesses that we can play with. Her eyes and lips, I think Ned turned the volume on both. And because we’re shooting in order, it’s a progression in the makeup you did.

Nerds and Beyond: When it came to Sylvie and Loki, when you when you’re doing those, did you try to kind of plan them both to have any similar things to give them a Loki look?

Douglas: It’s a fair question, but the answer is no. So again, I think the characteristics and traits that were going to be similar among them, aside from wardrobe and costume hints, were all character driven. And I did nothing with the makeup and hair to try to make them look or even closely resemble each other.

Nerds and Beyond: I want to kind of back up a little bit to Tom in the first Avengers film. That was by far one of his most standout looks. Can you tell me anything about what went into the creation of that absolutely tormented, haunted look that he had throughout that entire movie?

Douglas: Yeah, and that’s probably one of the elements that, because the character has evolved, we kind of left with Avengers because by the end of Avengers, and we carried it into Endgame, he does have a bit of an edgier look in Avengers, and not many people pick up on it. But the reality is he’s a little sculpted in Avengers.

I remember sculpting his cheekbones and temples, and doing a little play on his forehead for when he’s in the cell on the Helicarrier carrier with all that overhead lighting. I did like a little devil horn shadow, which is so subtle. The only person who’s going to notice is anybody who looks back at it and having read this and knows what to look for, but it is so nuanced and so subtle. And that’s the only place I think we did that. But the rest of him is very much chiseled and sculpted, but it’s a light touch.

And I think, again, as he evolved through the Marvel Universe and into the other movies that was something that was easy to leave behind, because I think that look played directly into his evil desire to rule over Earth. We rested that design element with that storyline.

Nerds and Beyond: It’s very clear too and I’ve always loved looking at that, because I’m a huge fan of the character. I’ve always loved kind of comparing how he looked in that movie to the rest of them.

Douglas: You’re on to me!

Nerds and Beyond: I’m not! I swear [laughs] So, what’s your best method for making the actors comfortable in the makeup chair? And with the final outcome?

Douglas: It’s dialogue; listening, talking to them, talking to their representation, whether it be an agent or a manager, and doing my homework and doing my due diligence to find out what’s going to make them comfortable the moment they walk through the door. I do my homework on them. It’s not just IMDb, it’s an internet search. So, I spend some time on the web and find out who these folks are, and if I find out, for example, they’re not one that likes to talk a lot, well, the writing’s on the wall, we’re not going to talk a lot, we’ll cut to the chase and get to the point. But also, it’s about building a rapport and building a relationship. Also, knowing that, I’ve said this in previous discussions, knowing it’s necessary to get out of the way.

Like if, for example, I’m not a proper fit for somebody, I have to be plugged in, I have to be aware enough to understand that it may not be working before somebody says to me, “Hey, this isn’t gonna work.” So it’s just about being open, especially as Tom’s personal on these projects and running the department, knowing that I don’t get to do everybody. I don’t get to put my thumbprint on other people’s work. Because not only is that disrespectful, it’s very often unnecessary, because I hire good people. I hire contemporaries and peers. Truly, you’re only as good as your weakest crew member. I surround myself with good people.

So, take Owen Wilson, for example, it would have been wonderful to do Owen’s makeup, but there were times when he was not going to be shooting with Tom and I was going to need to be ready for Tom or available to Tom, so it didn’t make sense. So I never touched Owen, I had Dennis Liddiard design that look and run with it. And then Ned Neidhardt took over that look when Dennis had to depart. That’s just one example of not trying to do everything.

Another one was the Classic Loki. I wanted to do Richard E. Grant’s [makeup] so bad, I can’t even tell you. I’ve been a huge fan since 1987. I wanted so badly to bring that full circle, didn’t make sense. It just didn’t make sense. So again, I never touched him. It wasn’t necessary. Ned was always there. And I think the same thing happened to me on Ragnarok reshoots, which I ran in Atlanta again with Dennis Liddiard. I wanted so badly to do Sir Anthony Hopkins makeup, but it didn’t make sense. So I was happy to hand it off to Bill Myer.

Nerds and Beyond: Oh man, I loved Richard E. Grant in this show so much.

Douglas: He’s amazing.

Nerds and Beyond: He’s so good!

Douglas: He really is. And he’s that good in person. He’s just so fun and interesting and alluring and attractive. He’s such a wonderful, wonderful person and, of course, a phenomenal actor.

Nerds and Beyond: I was watching little videos that he posted and he just seems like the warmest person.

Douglas: You know, just one last tidbit about Richard Grant is he’s got wonderful stories and as he’s telling them he’ll often stop and pause and just laugh. Just laugh, not for the sake of the stories or for anybody that he’s telling the story to, but because recounting the story brings him true joy. So he’ll stop and embrace that joy. Oh, it’s so wonderful.

Nerds and Beyond: That’s so amazing to hear. What is the most memorable job that you’ve done?

Douglas: The most memorable … That’s a tough one because I have so many fond memories of so many projects. The first Avengers film was memorable because there was a buzz, there was a vibration, a frequency, that was in the air when we were shooting that. We kind of knew we were making something big and something special. I don’t think any of us knew how big or how special it would be, but that certainly is one of the most memorable and most special projects.

I’m pretty good about focusing on the positive aspects of all these things, regardless of how difficult the project may be for whatever reason. The pros always, always heavily outweigh the cons, but I have a lot of wonderful, memorable experiences. Another one, it’s the polar opposite only because of the conditions in which we shot, but Birth of the Nation was one of the most memorable and exceptional experiences of my career. I was on the wrong side of 40, had 25 years of experience, and had still never worked so hard in my entire life. We did a 50-day shoot in 27 days. So proud of the work we did.

It was 100 degrees with 99 percent humidity, we shot it in the summer in Georgia, in Savannah, so it was hot, humid, and just getting the makeup necessary to be on individuals to stay put was its own challenge. And then the other challenges only added to that. But Nate Parker, the director, writer, producer, and lead actor, he is a special human being. And he was inspiring from start to finish. Usually, the first people in are the teamsters, transport department, and usually I’m second. He beat me in almost every single day. He’s in three hours before he needs to be. That was a very special experience.

Nerds and Beyond: Finally, are you excited about the news of Loki Season 2?

Douglas: I’m beyond thrilled! I invite being in the dark a little bit, I kind of like surprises and I like not knowing, so I suspected, but hearing the news confirmed, I was thrilled, naturally. What are they going to dream up? This is amazing. How do you top season 1 of Loki? That’s the burning question.

[justasimptm]

The Bride C17

The voice rings clear and stern, tone filled with rage and disbelief. Heisenberg stands a few feet away, leaning on his hammer, watching Moreau hesitant in front of me. It’s kind of funny to me, watching him panic, it’s like he’s hitting all the stages of grief at the same time. His mouth flaps like a fish, which is even funnier given his ugly other form, but to give him credit, he doesn’t back away. Heisenberg barely twitches a finger, but the knife he was holding flies from his hand, banging loudly on the support beam behind us. I feel both relieved and tense still as he steps closer, knowing I’m not alone but unsure how he’s going to deal with this situation.

“Mother wanted me to do another test! I’m making progress!” Moreau whimpers, matching his steps moving backwards, only stopping when he bumps into his little table and trips, falling to the ground with a nauseating wet slap. Heisenberg doesn’t even look at me, keeping his eyes fixed firmly on the dolt that’s trying to skitter away from him. “You should-you should go! Let me finish my work!” Heisenberg scoffs at the effort, twisting his fingers slightly to pull the needle from my arm, letting it ping to the ground before sliding the bucket that had started collecting my blood over to him. It sloshes slightly, and I realise he had already started draining me before I woke up.

“I think, you have plenty. And I also think if you ever try something like this again, I will tell Mother Miranda about your betrayal, because that’s what this is, and she’ll cast you out for it. Let her out of your filth.” He hisses, leaving no room for argument or discussion. Within seconds I feel the sludge holding me up release, which is both a relief and a shock, because without it I feel a million pounds heavier and I tumble forward into Heisenberg, who with all his grace, manages to catch me before I hit the ground.

Without so much as letting the other creature breathe a syllable in reply, Heisenberg turns, and promptly stalks from the mines, resurfacing through the hut before walking us slightly downstream. He sets me down carefully on one of the bigger rocks, letting me adjust myself before fully releasing me and sitting down next to me. Part of me wonders how he found me, but part of me doesn’t want to ask, wanting instead to break down slightly and thank him for saving us again, even after our last encounter had been so cold. I scramble for the words to say to break our silence, even a simple thank you not feeling good enough. My buffering seems to register with him, so he fortunately takes the initiative and speaks first so I don’t have to.

“Do you need blood? He got a lot before I got there.” He asks, eyeing me up and down before looking out at the running water. The concern in his voice shocks me for a split second before I reply, humming thoughtfully as I focus on my body to see if I can get it to wake up. He must’ve really taken a good portion of what I had running through me because even now, out of his slime and out in the light, my body feels like it could drop into a coma at any second.

“I will. Before I go home if I can manage it. Thank you for coming, Lord-” I start, watching him from the corner of my eyes so I can look without staring directly. Before I can finish my miniature praise he cuts me off with the waive of his hand.

“I wasn’t gonna let that Fish Chum kill you. And I’m pretty sure I told you to call me Karl.” He states, turning to face me head on, but keeping his attention low as he shrugs off his jacket and rolls up the sleeve of his shirt. My brows furrow at his movement and I have to force myself away from staring at his now exposed arm and flexing biceps as he moves them. “I know I’m probably not preferred dinner, but I don’t think I’ll be able to get anyone fresher.” He mutters and it suddenly strikes me what he’s planning. Before I could protest, both at the intimacy of it and the idea of drinking from him and hurting  him, he pulled a thin knife from his belt and made a small cut across his arm. Not so deep as to cause much damage, but enough to make his blood sing in the air. “Don’t even think about saying no. Can’t have you dying’ on me yet, Doll. I still gotta make you like me.”

His words barely register on my mind as I reach for him on instinct, he pulls me closer to his side, running his fingers through my pinned hair and letting it fall fully loose from it’s half destroyed bun. It’s interesting as I latch on, not biting really, more like suckling, the conscious part of my brain trying not to cause too much harm. What’s even more interesting is that instead of tensing, like most would under the fang of what could arguably be considered a vampire despite our real creation, he relaxes into me. Sighing as my lips close on his skin and I apply the first light pressure of sucking, not flinching as my tongue swipes over the cut he made, tasting him for the first time.

He tastes like the best treats you could imagine. Like a fresh strawberry, dipped in rich dark chocolate, both sweet and bitter, but a perfect combination of both. He tastes like nothing I’ve had before, something I can only imagine could be compared to having your favorite meal at the end of a long week. My eyelids flutter close at the first drop that I pull into my mouth. Trying so hard not to be greedy, but wanting so desperately to bite and drink until I can’t. I think I hear myself whimper slightly, but I’m quickly soothed by his gentle shushing as he runs his fingers through my hair, scraping slightly along my scalp. The paired sensations of his coarse fingers on my head, his calm voice telling me it’s okay and to take what I need is almost too much to handle.

It makes me not want to stop, even though I know I need to. My body feels alive, humming with strength and more energy than I’ve had in years, and I fight every single nerve I have as I pull my stained lips away from his arm. When he asks me if I’ve had enough I almost laugh. No, I want to say, I need more, I need everything, but I say yes, because I am sated, belly full and happy, warmth flowing back to my fingers and my cheeks. His face is tinged red, just so slightly, a thin layer of sweat along his forehead, and for a split second I’m terrified I took too much. But as smoothly as he had rolled it up, he tugs his sleeve back down, nodding to himself. We sit in silence for another minute, letting both of our breathings steady before trying to return to conversation.

At first our conversation is light, he asks how I ended up in the mines, I ask how he knew I was there. Both of us give half truths, evading what we think will embarrass ourselves, but walking on eggshells grows tiresome fast.

“Are you scared of your mother?” He asks out of the blue, making me choke slightly on the breath I was taking. I can’t stop myself from looking around at who might have heard him, but we’re alone, just as we were when we came down.

“My mother is...a very complicated woman.” I start, treading carefully, but he scoffs at my statement, making me smile lightly. “Maybe a bit more than complicated. She’s always wanted what she thought was best for me. For her, really.” The sadness in my voice sobers him quickly. As I find the next words he gently pulls his glasses off, putting them to the side on his jacket. I started explaining that we were both sick, her and I, but she wanted to be cured, leading into her magical find, the thing that would keep her alive for ages. He knows what I mean without having to say it. “She came home that night different. Physically, mentally. She looked like my mother but she didn’t exactly act like her. I was terrified, if I’m going to be honest. She changed me though, even though I…” I can’t finish that sentence, but I don’t have to, judging by the look on his face he already understands. “It took me a while to accept this, and when I finally did she really wasn’t my mother anymore. She was twisted up, and if I’m going to be honest, yes. I am afraid of her. I think everyone should be, really. She has no remorse for anything she does, wanting only for us all to love her. Me, my sisters, Miranda. That’s the only thing that drives her anymore.” What he asks next sends a spear of shock through my gut.

“So why haven’t you left?”

Why haven’t I left? God, that’s a very good question. I can go outside, I can fend for myself quite easily. So why not? The answer is much harder than anything else I could say.

“Because if I leave, I die.” His mouth drops at the bluntness of my response, and I have to fight to keep my voice steady. “My pendant is burned into my chest. If I try to leave, my mother can break the charm on it that keeps the silver poisoning from spreading, and kill me. I stay with her because I’m sick of dying. I’m sick of living. I’m sick of not having a choice on which I do. So I choose to stay, because it’s the only choice I have.” He doesn’t  have a follow up question, and the silence that was once comfortable now feels suffocating. “Thank you for helping me, Karl. I need to get back now. I’ll see you soon, I’m sure.”

Without so much as another beat of my heart I swarm, quickly finishing the ascent back up to my home, not reforming until I’m firmly inside the doors.

Heisenberg's POV

When I found her, mounted to the wall like some goddamn experiment, it felt like my entire world stopped moving. She was alive, but the white sheen on her face told me that wouldn’t be the case for very long. I know for a fact that this oaf didn’t ask Miranda if he could do this, so that was my opening, and thank god it worked. I was able to get her out of there before something bad really happened. Out in the sunlight she seems more calm, but she’s still too pale. It strikes me that she needs blood, to replace what he took. I start to scramble mentally, not sure where to find her something to eat, not wanting to leave her to do it.

The thought breezes through my head in a split second. If she needs blood, I think, she can drink mine. Then I think about the parasite infecting my body and I grimace, I doubt she’ll really want that. Still, however, I offer, and a warm tingle goes up my back when she agrees. When she starts mouthing at the cut I made on my arm I fight every fiber of my being to stop myself from shivering. The feeling of her tongue swiping over it, the deep but gentle sucking and the blissed out look on her face is almost too much for me. Almost too much but somehow not nearly enough.

The moment is over almost as soon as it starts. She releases my arm from her hands and pulls back, her breath still ghosting over my skin. I want to tell her she can keep going, just to feel it again, to see her like that, but I know she stopped for a reason so I don’t push it. After steadying our breathing and calming down, I decided to break the silence and try talking to her.

Our conversation is airy, but I can’t stop myself from asking the question I’ve been dying to know the answer to for ages, ‘are you scared of your mother’. When she says yes my blood boils. She tells me how her mother came back fucked up and forced the change onto her. She didn’t want this life either. She tries to keep her voice stable but I can still hear the hints of it shaking. The next question falls from my mouth before I can stop it.

“Why haven’t you left?” I propose. This seems to stump her for a minute, but she pulls her shoulders back and her face droops in resignation. I want to tell her she doesn’t have to answer, but she does before I get a chance.

“Because if I leave, I die.” She tells me, and I feel like I’ve been punched in the throat. She explains how the pendant she has is burned into her body, which explains why I never see it move, and that if she leaves her mother will take the charm off of it and let her die. It’s silver, the same material used to stab her those weeks ago. If I look close enough I can see small back veins around where the pendant sits, evidence that it would kill her. Before I can say anything else she’s gone, whisked back to her tower, far away from me. When she’s gone it feels less warm in the sun, everything somehow dimmer. I’m going to find a way to save her, I think to myself, and nobody will ever hurt her again.

@foggyturtleknightangel @beingviolentlyhappy @inesalexandra1995 @loveboldlywingedangel130

[punkcupcakestyles]

Love Song

Part 16

Catch up!

In which one of them says the “L” word.

TW: Hi, this chapter contains references to DV. If you don’t feel like reading it, that's fine, your wellbeing is a priority. However, if you would like to read some of this new chapter, you can skip it, as references are only made in the first part directly under the “read more”, which is marked with a ++++ for you. Once that bracket ends, it is TW-free. 

****

Are Harry Styles and Sofia Welsh a thing?

Surely, you must be asking this yourself…

++++

Harry was still asleep when I woke up. He was sleeping on his belly, with his back turned to me, and I scooted closer to him, brushing my fingers over the light red marks I had left on his skin. So, last night had happened, and those marks were there to prove it. 

I laid on my back and stared at the ceiling, trying to come up with all of the ways I was different that morning. We had sex, which was new, and then took a shower together and fell asleep in the middle of kisses and giddy laughs, which wasn’t so new. My body was the same, except for the slight pain on one side of my hips, and the ticklish memory of Harry’s lips on my skin. My mind was fluttery and anxious, but that wasn’t Harry’s fault.

It was mine.

One thing was different: Harry knew.

What had happened last night? I was desperate for Harry to stay. I felt like my heart would break irreparably if he walked away. A desperate, exaggerated feeling, no doubt, but it felt so real at that moment, so overwhelmingly true, that nothing else mattered. So I told him about my mom and my aunt, about my family. I had told him I needed a hiding place…

What comes next?

Harry rustled in his sleep and I found myself holding my breath before I could even realize, watching as he turned to lie on his back. It seemed like he was going to wake up at any minute now, and I still hadn’t chosen the feeling I should focus on. 

On one hand, I felt excited and giddy, the memory of the previous night vividly replaying in my mind. Last night, he was mine, he had stayed and I had slept in his arms; I also felt guilty and ashamed, tied up to a story I hadn’t chosen for myself. 

If I closed my eyes, I could see him, moving in all of his fury. I could hear the screams and the lies. I could never shake away the feeling that it was all my fault. I should have done something earlier. 

“Fuck,” I moaned, already feeling the ghosts as they circled me. I could see him, blazing up like a pure fire that wanted to burn everything that it could find. I could see her, making herself small, waiting for whatever was coming her way. Neither of them could see me. 

“Sof?” I heard Harry’s voice, but it sounded far away, more like a whisper making its way through a tangle of darkness. If I searched for it, if I reached for it…Harry looped one arm around my waist, and he must have thought that I was having a nightmare, cause he let his body wrap around mine to keep me warm and close. Safe. “It’s ok,” he whispered and I could hear his voice clearer now, even if it was sleepy. “I’m here, baby.”

I think he did it out of reflex, because his eyelids were still heavy with sleep, struggling to open, even when it was still dark around us. I quickly turned around, burying my face onto the crook of his neck and smiling when his hug became tighter and his fingers tangled in my knotty hair. 

He still smelled fresh from the shower and his skin was cold to the touch, so I sighed as I kissed his shoulder and neck, and I felt comfort when his lips met mine in a lazy, soft kiss.  

“Were you having a bad dream?” He asked, once sleep had faded away. I could see the outline of his face and could feel the touch of his fingers as he brushed them up my waist and to my back. It was soothing, but the ache was still there, bringing me down and suffocating me. 

“No,” I said with a raspy voice that I could barely recognize as mine. I cleared my throat and blinked away the tears that were brimming my eyes so he wouldn’t notice them. “I was awake. Sorry for waking you up.”

“It’s ok.” I could hear the smile in his voice, which was tinted with a sweet hint that settled underneath my skin and made me feel warm, my own heart forgetting about rhythm and beating. “Are you ok?”

“Now that you’re awake, I am.”

“Good, baby. I’m here for you,” Harry whispered. He brushed his lips over my forehead and pressed a soft kiss there, one that told me more than words could. “Wanna tell me what happened? You were so tense.”

“H..." I hesitated. How did I explain it to him? How did I tell him what I had done? That I didn't regret it? “Do you really want to know?” I asked him. I pushed myself away from him, rolling away from his arms to sit on the bed. He did the same, sitting by my side as he propped himself up on the pillows. This wasn’t how I imagined the morning after, and I bet it wasn’t like he had imagined it either.

“Yes!” He said, which was exactly the answer I was dreading. “You don’t have to, Sof, but you can always tell me if something’s upsetting you.”

“I...I didn’t want you to go yesterday. I wanted you to stay,” I said, trying to earn myself some time to articulate my thoughts. “So I told you some things that I’ve never said to anyone before. And I’m feeling guilty and afraid of what you might think.”

“Ok,” he said, which was not nearly enough, but it prompted me to continue. 

“And I feel the desperate need to tell you that my dad wasn’t always bad, that I had a pony, and on Fridays, I could eat way too much sugar. I don’t want you to think…” I stopped because I needed to gulp back my tears. My mom and I, we’re strong people.”

“I know.”

“And I don’t want you to think any different about me.”

“Why would I, Sof?” Why would he? Because I kept telling myself that I did what I had to do, but I’m lying. At that moment, all I felt was rage, not survival. I wanted to hurt him, make him suffer for what he had done, even if just a bit. I wanted to kill him. But I didn’t. “C’mere,” Harry said, and his fingers found mine and squeezed them lightly as he laced them together. So I obeyed and breathed him in as he pulled me into a tight hug. “You’re safe, I promise.”

“I know.”

“Good,” he breathed and his body noticeably relaxed, even though I don’t think either of us even had realized he was holding his breath in. 

If anything, it made the butterflies in my tummy rise and flutter. 

****

Kacey Musgraves and Harry Styles reunited yesterday, on the last date of her Oh, What a World: Tour II, to sing “Space Cowboy” from her hit album Golden Hour. The heartfelt performance was received with cheers from the audience. At the end of the song, Styles praised her former tour partner, calling her one of his favorites. It was a breathtaking moment.

Eagle-eyed fans, however, also noticed a special guest that was not announced, and that tried to blend in with the crowd: Styles’ on-and-off rumored girlfriend Sofia Welsh-De la Rosa was seen in the crowd during the duet performance, along with her agent and some friends. Does this mean a confirmation of the romance? Not quite, as she stayed to enjoy the concert even after he left the stage and was nowhere to be seen during the closing party. Was it just a coincidence? Is Welsh a stalker? Fans have been weighing in on Twitter, but the question remains: If Sofia Welsh gets ghosted, what hope do I have? Below you’ll find some of the most relatable comments…

****

It all started innocently, sitting next to him on the couch to cuddle while he reviewed the plan for his next single. It was all laid out in an e-mail, with wardrobe ideas and stage mockups. A glimpse of his screen was enough to catch my attention, as I saw what looked like a fisherman island and a couple of lively-looking fishes. 

“What’s the song about?” I asked him, peering up at him as my head rested on his shoulder. I had to ask, there were fish involved!

“Well...you. It’s about you.” Harry smiled and I saw him blush a little while he avoided looking me in the eyes.

“No, really, tell me!”

“It’s about you, Sof. What makes you think I’m joking?”

“Why would you write a song about me? Is it about how annoying I am?” I grinned and I propped myself up with one hand, so I could look him in the eyes while we talked. It was funny, ‘cause I knew about the song, he had told me the night of our date, which seemed like ages ago. But now, my brain was going into overdrive, and I stared at him as he leaned closer and let his lips brush over a kiss over my forehead. 

“It’s about how much I like you,” he said, and this time, he met my eyes while I stared at him stupidly. 

“Is that the surprise you told me about? I would’ve thought you had pulled it from the album after everything that’s happened these last few weeks.”

“I did try, but Jeff told me to go fuck myself.” I didn’t know if he was joking. The quick smile on his lips disappeared as Harry looked at me. “And I wrote them for you, it’s only fair you get to listen to them.”

“Can I? Listen to it, I mean...” 

“As long as you don’t tell Jeff to pull it from the album, I think we can do that.”

“I promise I won’t.”

The few seconds he took to look for the song seemed like an eternity, that I spent with my heart pounding in my ears and my eyes fixed on his phone screen. There were tons of songs there, and while some had a proper title, most were named with just a word or a date. I watched him go to a list called FL, and there, he scrolled down to the bottom, before pressing play on a song named “Adore You”. 

As the first few notes started to play, I went quiet and let Harry pull me into a cuddle. Once again, I was lying next to him, with my head resting on his chest, and I could feel the steadiness of his heart, and the warm touch of his fingers as they pressed to my waist. 

“Walk in your rainbow paradise…”

His voice was rich and soothing and it made my heartache in a way I didn’t know it was capable of. I listened to it, focusing on the words and the melody. I wanted to decipher every bit of it, every intention, every hint, tear it apart, and build it up again second by second. 

Harry was smiling when I looked at him, almost shyly and apologetically, like telling me how sorry he was for putting me in the spotlight. 

But I loved it. 

“Play it again”, I whispered when the song came to an end, as I looked up at him. Harry smiled in satisfaction, a little cocky grin, as he put the song on repeat. He then shifted on the couch, sitting up so I could straddle him. His hands went to my back and held my waist as mine looped around his shoulders.

“Did you like it?” Harry managed to ask between my kisses, lips pressing softly to his own, his cheek, his jaw, his nose. 

“I did. I loved it,” I giggled as I looked for his neck to kiss him there. I wondered how many times we would listen to the song before I was satisfied. Many, I had to guess. 

“Good…” Harry smiled and broke the kiss apart to look at me in the eyes. “I love you, Sof.”

I froze, stopping my frantic mission to kiss every available inch of his body, and I slowly brought my hands to my lap, as I looked at him, forgetting how to breathe. 

“You don’t have to say it back,” Harry breathed with a light laugh. “I know you have feelings for Sam, so it’s ok if you have to think about it. I just wanted to let you know… I’m yours if you want me, Sof....and even if you don’t.”

“What…” I started, but words kept failing to form in my lips, just as much as they failed to organize coherently in my brain. There was so much I wanted to say, many things I could tell him, but instead, I pressed myself to him, hugging him tight to my body until our breaths mixed, and it wasn’t too clear whose heartbeat was louder. 

“It’s ok. It’s ok, Sof, you don’t have to say anything,” Harry whispered reassuringly, so I did the only thing I knew I could do, I kissed him. 

Right then, it was easy to see how everything had changed from the night before, or even a few minutes ago. Now his touch felt different, filled with the memories of the night before. He knew my body better than I did. It was his to explore, to taste, and touch, and he did so. Everything, including the kiss, was slow but intense, soft and sweet but so fucking hungry.  

“I love you, Sof.” I kept replaying it in my mind, with all of its letters, one by one. Like a gospel, a moment of prayer to calm the soul. 

Harry made his way down to my collarbones, and he trailed his kisses down to the valley of my chest, where he stopped, and let his fingers curl around the cups of my bra to push it down. The warmth on his breath rose goosebumps all over my skin and I moaned quietly as he wrapped his lips around my nipple and sucked on it. It felt so good, but still, anticipation was boiling in my tummy, demanding more. I wanted to feel his tongue, his warm breath, the drowned moans. I wanted them to echo down my body until I had no more choice but to cry out in pleasure. It was a delicious, bubbly feeling that clouded my mind, only leaving space for Harry.

I was so sensitive, all raw skin and prickly nerves, the slightest touch sent a shiver up my spine and made me arch my back and moan.

I was too aware of the light touch of his hand brushing down my stomach and sliding underneath my panties. I could see a flash of a smile before he went to pay attention to my other nipple, sucking harder on it as he grazed his finger around my clit. 

“Fuck,” I moaned, trying to relax as the sharp pain of my soreness took over my senses for just a second. But it didn’t escape Harry, who stopped right away to look at me with a worried glint in his eyes. 

“Are you sore, Sof?” He asked, and to my despair he pulled his hand away, placing it on my leg instead with a light squeeze. 

“A bit,” I said, almost apologetically. “But we can still do it.”

“It’s ok,” Harry smiled. “There’s no rush. We can just kiss.”

“We’re going back to L.A. tomorrow, and you’ll be off to London by the end of the week, so at least I’m in a rush. I’ve already wasted a lot of time.”

“So, what are you suggesting? That we should fuck non-stop now?”

“Yes!!” I laughed. “You should fuck me.”

“I want you to enjoy it,” Harry said and he hugged me closer to his chest. The sentiment was appreciated and I had no doubt he actually meant it, but that didn’t mean I had to make it easy for him. His tummy tightened as my fingers brushed over his tanned skin, the slight swell of his pecs, the muscles on his abs, and a low moan escaped his reluctant lips as I shifted on his lap, and rolled my hips for him. He was getting hard, maybe because of all of the feverish kisses we had shared, and I felt the sharp bite of his nails as they dug on the round of my ass. “So it feels good for you. It kinda hurts my ego if you don’t.” he smiled. His hands pressed tightly to my hips, stopping me from making any movement. “And I owe you one from last night.”

“I enjoyed last night, it was perfect.”

“Really?” Harry asked, his smiling lighting up his cute face when he looked at me. “I always thought our first time was gonna be fucking special, like a hotel in Paris looking at the tower, or something like that.”

“You thought about our first time?”

“I did, it got me through the nights,” he said. His touch had no urgency other than to feel me close and feel the warmth of my skin under the tips of his fingers. 

“Good to know I’m on your mind, then.”

“All the fucking time, didn’t you listen to the song?”

So engulfed we were in each other that we had missed the sound of the door opening or that of the soft steps that followed it.

“H, why did you change rooms? Listen, man, if I have to listen to Diana nag me because of you...oh, fuck! I’m sorry,” a male voice exclaimed, going from very confused and slightly annoyed to sincerely apologetic. I scrambled to the couch to cover myself with the pillows, while Harry remained seated, calmly looking at his friend. 

Jeff was holding what seemed like a bakery paper bag, and 4 tall coffees. He set them down on the little table in front of the couch and cleared his throat while he clearly avoided looking at me. Without saying a word, Harry stood up and walked to the room, and came back after he had dressed, and holding a shirt he offered to me. It only took him seconds, but it felt like an eternity, and Jeff and I were awkward enough to make it evident. 

“I thought you had left for L.A., Sof. Diana told me you did,” Jeff said, now that I had put on the shirt, and he was free to look at me. He sat down on one corner of the couch and picked up Harry’s phone to stop the music. The room felt too silent without it.

“I decided not to go.”

“Good,” he smiled. Both of us were looking at Harry, as he smiled at me. He was our only connection, after all, and I had a nagging feeling that Jeff did not like me all that much. “Does Diana know?”

“That I stayed?”

“With Harry, yeah,” Jeff pressed.

“I haven’t told her, no.”

“Ok, we might want to do that,” he smiled too kindly. I would have felt overwhelmed by the, how does the song go? Oh, yes, bad moon a-rising feeling of his words, but at that moment, Jeff leaned over the table and started fixing breakfast in front of us: buttery and flaky croissants, little pastries filled with chocolate and raspberries, cinnamon swirls and avocado and eggs toast. The sugary and buttery smell took over my well-intentioned anxiety. It kept me on top of things most of the time, never too surprised when things went wrong. 

“How many people did you invite for breakfast?” I asked him. 

“Well, Diana is coming. Yesterday she told me you were leaving and that you guys were probably moving on, so I told her to meet me this morning.”

“Moving on from what?” Harry asked his friend as he picked two croissants and offered me one. Mine had red stripes, so I guessed it must’ve had some kind of strawberry or raspberry filling. He picked a chocolate one for himself and set it apart on the table, grabbing a cup of coffee first. 

“I’m gonna take a wild guess, and say you, they’re moving on from you.”

The croissant was still warm and I held it in my hand like it was a war grenade, ready to blow off. Could I eat it? The short answer was no. The long answer was more complicated than that, but it also ended in a no. My tummy grumbled, it had been long since the last time I had really eaten or felt hungry, so it took me a couple of seconds to realize what was going on around me, like the fact that both Harry and Jeff were looking at me as if I was fucking crazy. Perhaps I was. 

“Are you having a meltdown over a croissant?” Harry asked, and the mocking hint that laced in his voice stung. Oh, he didn’t understand. 

“I’m on a diet, and I need to be because otherwise, they might not give me the role.”

“They already did, that’s why you’re training like a crazy person.”

“They can still say that I don’t look good in a latex suit, because who fucking does? And take the role away from me,” I tried explaining, as I leaned over the table to put the croissant down and pick a black coffee.

“They won’t,” Harry said as he picked it up back again and offered it to me. “I promise. You’re the queen right now, and everyone’s in love with you. And if they choose to take the role away from you, they’re assholes anyway,” he continued, with a sweet smile on his face. I took the napkin and leaned back on the couch as I took a bite out of the croissant.

“Good,” Jeff exclaimed, reminding us that we were not alone in the room. “Now, do we talk about Sofia wanting to move on, or do we just ignore it?”

“I, uh, I don’t want to move on.”

“Ok, so I’ll talk to Diana,” Jeff nodded. “I’ll do it soon, so you guys don’t have time to change your fucking minds.”

“Thanks, Jeff,” I smiled at him. He didn’t like me, oh, not at all, but he wasn’t doing it for me. So he shrugged, and took a pastry for himself, to eat it with his coffee. 

Maybe we had said Diana’s name too many times, because there she was, closing the door behind her. She couldn’t see me, but I saw her, with her green dress with white flowers on. She was holding a plastic bowl of fruit and a holder with 3 tall coffees and she walked into the room and towards us without noticing me. When she did, a frown etched between her brows, and her eyes danced from Harry to me.

“You didn’t leave. Good, we need to talk.” Diana said as if nothing could surprise her anymore. She walked to me and picked up the piece of croissants I had left in my hands and put them down on the table, before she sat down next to Jeff, with a bright, satisfied smile on her face. “You can’t eat that. Actually, we might need to go even more strict. Dior wants you for their new campaign and Rihanna is wondering if you’d like to model some underwear. I said yes to both.” She waited for the ovation. I could see that she was holding herself from clapping in excitement. But we all remained silent, and she slowly calmed herself down, looking at me as if I was the one that didn’t understand, which was a fair assumption; I didn’t understand. 

“It means people know you can sell, Sof. We can ask for more money. We can ask you to be one of the top earners in the Marvel Universe. The top earner in every other movie you make,” she said, giddily. “Now, Dior wants you to shoot their campaign with one of their most iconic dresses. It’s a size zero, and they’ll stretch it to a size two, a tight one. So, we need to cut down a bit.”

A bit. 

“Why don’t they just stretch it a little more?” Harry asked. 

“Because it’s an iconic dress, I just said it, Harry,” Diana snapped. 

“That’s bullshit, Diana,” Harry said, and even though he was smiling, there was a hint of anger in his voice. He was annoyed and he didn’t feel like hiding it. 

“Oh, you think you know what us women…”

I couldn’t take it. I knew I should have said something, perhaps side with Harry and tell Diana that I wasn’t interested, but it was all too much. So I did what I know how to do best: I got up and left, walking to my room to hide from both of them and closing the door behind me. I sat on the corner of the bed and let out a shaky sigh. I wasn’t alone for too long. Harry entered the room and he cautiously walked to me and sat down by my side. The bed wobbled a little and I looked at him for a second before going back to look down to the floor.  

“Are you ok, love?” He asked. 

“I just started having sex,” I said. 

“I am aware,” he replied. 

“So, all of this talk about my body...it fucking sucks, especially because you’re there and you can listen to all of it, and…”

“And what?”

“Realize I don’t look good in a catsuit.”

“Do you want to see me in a catsuit? I don’t think I’d look good either,” He offered, and I laughed, despite everything, because that was the thing about Harry, he made everything better. 

“Would you put on a catsuit for me?” 

“I’d do anything for you, Sof...Come with me to London, let’s forget about this whole thing.”

“I can’t, H. I have to train and follow this diet, and be camera ready.”

“I promise I’ll keep you busy,” he said.

“Yeah? How?”

He did exactly what I expected him to do, he kissed me, his fingers pressing softly to the back of my neck, while his tongue swept my bottom lip. It was a lavish kiss, slow and intense. It made me forget that there were people in the other room, and to shift on the bed until I was sitting on his lap, with my legs on each side of his body. His hands started their journey on the upper part of my back, under my shirt, and he ran the tip of his fingers down the length of my spine. Every inch of skin he touched set on fire and reminded me how alive I was and all that I was capable of feeling because of him. 

“Please,” I muttered against his lips as his fingers got to the round of my ass, and he dug them and kneaded on my skin. 

“Please what?” He smiled. 

“Please whatever you want…”

“You need me, baby?”

“I need you, I want you…”

“Can you be quiet for me?” 

“Yes, I can try. Please.”

****

The plot thickens: Harry Styles and Sofia Welsh were seen leaving his hotel in Nashville together, where the singer was staying after he performed in Kacey Musgraves’ concert. The stars, who haven’t confirmed the status of their relationship, went out to grab lunch with a group of friends, including Musgraves herself, and then left for the airport together. 

This outing comes as a disappointment for Logan Lerman fans, who have started shipping him with the actress, as they are both set to work together in Amazon’s new show...

[httpjeon]

BY CHANCE — KTH (M.)

synopsis. on an adventure, you stumble upon a jackalope. the creature ends up saving your life, leading to an unexpected turn of events.

pairing. taehyung/reader genre. angst, smut, fluff au. mythical!au, jackalope!taehyung, shifter!au wordcount. 11,847 contents. major character death, blood, light violence, tae gets mad, crying, loss of a loved one, size kink, messy sex, squirting, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, dirty talk, light voyeurism(?), oral (male rec.), fingering, doggy style, spooning position note. this was originally meant to be posted september 15 of 2019 but never got past the preview stage. so it’s now being released on here!

blog masterlist. book of beasts masterlist.

© httpjeon 2020. do not repost, modify or translate.

Despite being born and raised in a region filled to the brim with witches, there was still lingering disdain for the race. Centuries ago, non-magic born humans had hunted down witches and slaughtered all the ones they could find.

It wasn't until the last 300 years that witches had once again gained footing in the region.

You personally weren't a witch, you didn't possess any magical abilities so you couldn't even learn magic. That didn't stop you from being curious, however, your natural inclination and hunger for knowledge never being satiated.

You didn't expect for the village elders to find the books you'd acquired for reading and suspect you of being a witch.

Unfortunately for you, the village you lived in was one of the few with hatred towards witches. You were lucky to be simply cast out rather than strung up and killed for the 'crime'.

Instead of finding another place to live, you decided it was the perfect opportunity to learn.

Thus, you adopted the title of wanderer.

You left your home of Phixhull behind to see the safe places you read about; seeing the snowy land of Wrila where you'd read of the Griffin creatures that protected forests all the way to Saipia which was home to a large walled-in city that you couldn't enter due to reasons unknown and instead decided to wander among Disier Forest to gawk at the beautiful White Stags that took refuge there. You didn't dare to visit the dark, cold land of Trance in fear of the werewolf stories you'd heard.

After what felt like years on the road, you happened upon a land you'd been warned about time and time again through stories passed down by elders.

Yonio; a place told in stories to scare children.

Legend told that it was once a place overwhelmed with magic but something happened that decimated everything. Magic was all but wiped from it; leaving the plants and magical creatures to die.

When you stepped foot onto the land, you felt it immediately. It felt dead; cold and empty. There wasn't even a breeze, no birds chirping, or sound of cicadas chirping.

It was deathly silent.

The grass crunched beneath your feet as you walked, wrapping your arms around yourself as you noticed the cold nip in the air. You couldn't deny that it was scary with how still and void of life it seemed to be.

The sun was high in the sky with a slight cloud overcast that blocked out the suns rays every once in a while. The environment was reminiscent of autumn with the dead leaves crunching on the ground and the lack of green life anywhere. But it didn't hold the same, cozy feeling the season should have. It just felt...dead.

It wasn't until the sun began its descent to the horizon that it dawned on you there was no place for you to spend the night.

Trees surrounded you from every angle, making you confused as to where you were and what direction you were meant to go. You didn't know where you came from and you didn't know the land well enough to navigate to shelter.

Before long, the sun was nearly set — only a wash of vibrant red streaking across the sky in left to light the way.

You were resting up against the trunk of a large tree trying to warm yourself up as the temperature continued to drop when you felt the ground beneath you begin to rumble. You stood up straight, looking around — the tree shook in time with the rumbling.

Fear pulsed through your veins when you began to hear the heavy beat of footsteps in time with the vibrations. You were paralyzed, desperately looking around for the thing that was making such loud movements.

It didn't take long before the creature came into view — towering several feet above your own frame. It was black as night and emitting black smoke from beneath its skin with horrible jagged teeth protruding from its mouth. Its eyes were inhuman red as they scanned the area before landing on you.

Before you could even think twice, you were taking off running as fast as you could. The creature gave chase, its footsteps violently rumbling and stomping behind you as the trees trembled in the wake of the impacts.

You shrieked when the monster let out a deafening roar of rage. You weaved between the trees, sobbing when the creature easily knocked them down.

You tripped, an exposed tree root being the cause of your stumble. When you hit the ground, it was hard and the air was immediately knocked out of you.

Turning over on your back, the creature's form was distorted by your tears and red. Reaching up, you realized it was blood gushing from a wound on your head.

It smiled, a menacing sharp-toothed grin as it stood looming dangerously above you.

Then, seemingly out of nowhere, a fast bolt of brown flashed before you. It grabbed the creature's attention, making its attention on you wane.

You sat up, wiping your eyes as you realized it was too distracted by the...jackalope.

It was small but fast and mighty, biting at the creature wherever it could sink its sharp teeth into — making the beast roar in anger as it attempted to squash the poor jackalope.

You weren't sure why such a tiny animal would be attacking something it knew was a threat, but you didn't have time to dwell on it. With your head still swimming, you ran away — not stopping until everything was silent once more.

This time, you took comfort in the quiet atmosphere.

Your reprieve was short lived as the adrenaline died down and you were left alone in the middle of a cold, dark forest with a murderous creature roaming.

You wrapped your arms around yourself, sinking to the ground to huddle against a tree to conserve warmth. Your head ached from the blow you'd received when you'd fallen and it was making you feel woozy.

It was hard to not think of the possibility that you would die in the forest.

Just as the thought entered your mind, you felt a small tug on your jacket. You jumped, expecting a threat only to see the wide doe-eyes of a jackalope.

"Hey...it's you," You muttered, gasping when it tugged your sleeve again. "Do you want me to come with you?" Another tug.

You struggled to get to your feet, doing your best to follow as the little jackalope through winding trees and shrubbery.

To your surprise, you were led right to a small wooden cottage. It was situated in the middle of a clearing. There was a dim light coming from the open window, which the jackalope jumped in and disappeared through. Little flower pot hung empty alongside the door and stairs leading up to the porch. You raised your hand to knock, blinking your eyes rapidly to clear the haze that settled over them.

Two solid knocks were all you could get in before you crumpled to the ground with a harsh thud. The second you felt the soft touch on our forehead, it sent your cut stinging waking you up. 

Blinking to clear your sight, you were surprised to see a young man kneeling beside the bed he'd seemingly put you on.

He had pretty, sparkling eyes and long brown hair that hung in them. Atop his head, the most shocking part of him, were the two large bunny ears twitching behind a pair of miraculous antlers.

"Oh you're awake," He muttered, a small smile gracing his pretty lips. His voice was much deeper than you'd anticipated hearing but it was soothing. "My name is Taehyung and...you're in my home."

"I'm ______," You replied. "You...you're a shifter aren't you? The jackalope?"

"Yes," Was all he said, going back to tending to the wound on your head. He didn't offer any further conversation so you fell silent, allowing him to finish cleaning your cut.

He was very good looking with a sharp jaw and uneven eyelids, a small freckle sat on the underside of his nose. As he leaned over you, you got the sweet scent of peaches that wafted off of him and you couldn't help but inhale. If he noticed, he didn't say anything before sitting back up with a tiny smile.

"Get some rest," He whispered, blowing out the candle lit beside your bed. "We'll talk in the morning."

The first thing you learned about your savior, jackalope shifter named Taehyung was he had a quiet sense of kindness to him. He was quiet, usually setting a plate or bowl of food beside you and scampering to hide away and eat on his own. You never saw him for very long and he barely spoke to you but he was kind; washing your clothes for you and making breakfast, lunch, and dinner for you.

Though he survived off of a mostly vegan diet, he had a knack for spicing it deliciously.

When you asked him how he managed to get fresh fruits and vegetables he did which led to him showing you a little garden he cultivated nearby.

What was striking about it, though, is that around the ground the grass was dead and brown but where the garden was held miraculous vibrant green grass. He seemed proud of his garden, leading you to the little tomatoes that were growing healthily.

Taehyung was timid, easily startled by loud noises that made the large rabbit ears on his head witch back. The first time he demonstrated his aversion to noises was when you accidentally dropped a plate and the wood clamored obnoxiously. He jumped 12 feet in the air and took off to the opposite end of the cottage so fast your eyes couldn't even track his movements.

Every once in a while, you'd spot him hovered over a box that sat huddled in a dark corner of the bedroom. Sometimes he would return from somewhere with objects wrapped in cloths which he would place in the box.

It got your curiosity up, seeing him dig through the box like it housed treasure.

Such curiosity is what led to a mistake.

They say curiosity killed the cat, after all.

He had been gone for hours, leaving you to lay in bed all by yourself waiting for his return. You weren't sure what he was doing since he never told you where he went or what he liked — aside from gardening.

So you crawled out of bed, the floorboards creaking beneath the shift in weight as you took the short stride to where the box sat. Normally, is sat covered in a black silk cloth that he only removed when he was out to collect things for said box. Now, however, it wasn't covered.

You easily unlatched it, the lid opening to rest back against the wall to keep it from slamming shut.

Once your eyes fell on the interior, your breath cut short.

Inside were a variety of objects; some shiny, some old, and some pure strange.

You reached inside, running your hand along the jagged edges of a crystal before tapping against the old, leather bound journal with worn out words engraved on the front. It was dirty and seemed to have been ripped or cut in several places.

Just as you were about to pull it out, however, the door creaked open to reveal Taehyung had returned. He cradled something in that black silk cloth, close to his chest as he stared at you for several long seconds.

"What are you doing?" The dark, cold tone of his voice sent shivers down your spine as you backed away from the box.

"I uh...was curious..." You admitted, shame filling your heart at the pained look in his eyes.

"Curious?" He growled, storming forward, gently placing the covered object in the box before slamming it shut harshly. You flinched at the sound but he didn't, despite his sensitive hearing to loudness. "Do all humans just put their noses in things that don't belong to them or is it just you?"

"I—"

"Get out," He snarled, making you gasp. "I want you gone!"

He roared the last word so loud that it had you on your feet and running past him. You didn't bother slipping your shoes on, too scared of what Taehyung would do if you lingered in his space for too long. So you ran down the stairs, the freezing ground beneath your bare feet making you whine.

You kept running until the cottage was gone from sight and all of its light vanished. Left in the pitch black, your heart plummeted.

You were outside in the dark and that monster was no doubt lurking in the shadows. You were wearing a night dress Taehyung had on hand with no jacket of any kind to shield you from the bitter cold.

A breeze cut through the air, rustling the trees and making you shiver violently. Goosebumps rose up on your skin and you finally had to stop to huddle down. You pulled the nightdress over your knees as you held them to you chest — doing your best to conserve body heat.

Despite your predicament, you were sad.

Taehyung, who had treated you with quiet kindness and sweet gentleness, had cast you out of his house into the dangerous forest without a second thought. Part of you felt bitter over the fact his stupid box of treasures were more important than you.

Truthfully, you couldn't blame him; it wasn't your place to go through something that was obviously important to him. You didn't have a right to be angry with him for yelling but he had to know you would die out in the open like you were.

You didn't know how to navigate the forest and you were, in fact, already lost. With no clue where you came from, you couldn't even turn back to go apologize to him.

Any creak from the branches or rustling of the wind made you jump. Knowing that creature was out no doubt prowling set your heart ablaze with primal fear.

You would die. There was no doubt about it.

The door slammed and Taehyung was left alone, glaring at the box. It held things that meant a lot to him — knickknacks he'd meticulously collected and kept safe.

The anger he felt vanished the second he smelt your sweet scent waft past him as you ran away.

Why had he done that? It was so unlike him. Taehyung wasn't the type of person to cast someone out in the night alone because he was angry. How could he have done that to you?

You hadn't known the treasures were special and you surely meant no harm, he realized when he looked back in the box and found nothing disturbed. Sighing, he unwrapped the newest addition — a stone slate he'd found buried with interesting engravings.

He closed the box once again and placed the cloth over, looking at the bed — his bed that he'd been allowed you to sleep in. It was messed up like you'd been laying in it prior to his finding you on the floor snooping through his box.

Curiosity was a natural human emotion, he knew that. Even he himself was a curious creature, that's how he came to collect things.

You had been expressing such a natural feeling and he'd yelled at you and thrown you out like some kind of monster.

His head snapped up.

Monster.

He was on his feet quickly, running to the door to see your shoes still sat there. His heart broke — you hadn't even gotten your shoes on.

There was no way you could survive out in the cold — if hypothermia didn't get to you first then the monster surely would.

He ran down the stairs, his feet pounding against the wood. The second his feet hit the ground he was running — ears twitching towards every little sound he could hear in the darkness.

He could still smell you — the sweet homemade soap he made still lingering in the air. Following it, he blinked rapidly as his eyes adjusted to the dark. He could see far better than a human could, but it was still even dark for his night vision.

The trees and wind whipped past him as he ran, the scent of you getting closer and closer with every step he took.

Finally, you came into view, up ahead facing him. You were sitting with your knees to your chest and your nightgown pulled over your legs. He could tell, even from the distance that you were shivering and crying. His heart ached — he'd made you cry. You were no doubt scared and hurt by his behavior.

His relief of finding you was short lived when he realized you were in danger.

The monster, dark as the night itself crept along behind you — deep red eyes set upon your vulnerable, unknowing form. It raised a thick, clawed hand in the air preparing to swing down and strike you.

It would be a killing blow for you.

But perhaps not for him.

Without a second thought, he threw himself overtop you. You were knocked down with a loud 'oof'. Taehyung felt the claw slice through his back, it burned more than actually hurt for some reason.

Instead of the creature going in for another strike — a devastating, final blow no doubt, it let out a loud, distorted shriek. Looking over his shoulder, he saw the creature backing away holding its hand in the air. The black skin visibly sizzled and bubbled where Taehyung's blood had splattered across it.

Then, to his relief, it ran away into the night — heavy footsteps once again making the ground shake.

"O-Oh my god, Taehyung!" You cried, gasping when he flopped off of you onto his side with a groan of pain. "Wh-Where did that thing come from? Are you okay? Why did you do that? Where did it go?"

He couldn't help but chuckle at your rambling. Humans — so easily overwhelmed.

"I-I...We have to get you home," You whispered, standing up and grabbing his arm. "I don't know how to do this."

"It's alright," Taehyung groaned, allowing you to wrap his arm around your shoulder as he rested his weight against you. Though he kept himself lighter on you since your smaller frame couldn't handle all of his weight.

It was a slow limp back to his cottage, he had to direct you of the way since you'd gotten lost. He could feel you trembling against him, though he wasn't sure if it was because you were cold or still panicked from nearly dying.

You smelled so sweet still and he felt his eyes fluttering once the cabin came into view. He couldn't fall asleep yet, he needed to apologize to you for his behavior!

Everything seemed to pass in a daze from when he hobbled up the steps with you until his front hit the bed. The second his face was buried in the pillow and your scent overwhelmed him, mixed a bit with his which still lingered, he succumbed to the darkness.

You hovered over him, watching as he slept soundly. The back of his gray t-shirt was slashed open, allowing you to see the gaping cuts on his back still gushing blood.

So you needed to stitch him closed.

Okay. You could do that.

It took ages to scour his house to find things that would allow you to tend to his wounds.

As you placed the linen cloths, alcohol, needle, and thread on the table, you stared at him on the bed. The best position would be to look at it from above but if you stood beside him, the bed would cause him to be too high to be comfortable.

So, with taking a final glance at him to make sure he was still asleep, you crawled onto the bed with him. Straddling the backs of his thighs, you tried to ignore what it felt like to be on top of him while wearing a dress.

Pushing his shirt up, you hissed at the angry red slashes on the otherwise pristine, tan skin on his back. Grabbing one of the linen cloths, you doused it in alcohol before placing the bottle back down.

Carefully, you pressed the cloth to one of the cut.

He jolted awake immediately, reaching back to grab at your thigh beneath your dress — setting your face aflame, though he didn't realize what he'd done.

"What are you doing?!" He whined, nails digging into your skin. "That hurts!"

"I-I know," You whispered, hands trembling as you dabbed at the cut again — making him cry out. "I'm sorry. I need to clean it!"

He moaned in pain but eventually relaxed, growing accustomed to the stinging pain. His grip on your thigh weakened and he fell limp again but you could tell he was awake.

Finally, you were finished and dropped the blood-soaked cloth on the floor with a wet slap. It could be cleaned later.

"Um...I'll have to stitch it," You whispered, watching as the cuts continued to ooze blood. "It's going to hurt a lot more and...you'll have to stay really still."

"Okay..." He whimpered, sounding so small it made your heart ache.

"I'll do my best to be quick and painless, okay?" You asked, beginning to thread the needle.

He didn't offer a reply but reached back, once again, to grab hold of you. His grip landed lower than last time, resting comfortably on your knee.

For comfort, you noted. He'd probably never had stitches done before. You had experience, often stitching yourself up during your travels because of stupid accidents.

Steadying yourself, you pierced the flesh and froze when he let out a little sob of pain.

"I-I'm sorry, Tae," You whimpered, stroking your hand over his shoulders for comfort. "It'll be okay."

He squeezed your knee in response while the other clutched the pillow beneath his head so hard the material groaned.

It was such a change in demeanor to what he was before; from shouting at you, to protecting you at the risk of his own life, to the trembling man beneath you. Part of you was happy as he allowed you to see the different sides of him, even if they were unpleasant. He was a more dynamic person than what you first thought of him when he was just a timid, quiet man who avoided you.

Every time the needle pierced through, he would tense up. Some places were more tender than others and drew a whine or cry from him. His bunny ears and little, fluffy bunny tail twitched and flinched in time to your movements as well as his pain.

By the time you were finished, he was drained. The way his eyes fluttered lazily as he fought sleep was the first indicator. He could barely bring his gaze up to you and you helped him strip out of the ruined shirt in favor of a new, softer one that hopefully wouldn't irritate the wounds.

Turning out the lantern, you whispered goodnight and allowed him to sleep in peace.

You woke up to muffled calls of your name, making your heart race in panic. Worried if Taehyung's stitches had torn open in his sleep and he was bleeding out by himself had you on your feet and in the bedroom in a flash.

The suns rays were golden as they sparkled across his skin. You could see his eyes water in the light and you couldn't help but coo when he held his hand out for you.

"What is it, Tae? Are you okay?" You asked, kneeling beside him on the bed where he still laid on his stomach.

"I just..." He sniffled and you realized he was crying. "I feel so guilty."

"Tae..." You whispered, squeezing his hand as tears fell from his eyes to the pillow beneath him.

"I c-can't believe I treated you like that and threw you out," He sobbed. "I-I've never acted like that to anyone before and I'm so sorry, ______."

"Taehyung, it's okay," You whispered, scooting forward to stroke his hair. "I shouldn't have gone through your things like that, it was rude of me."

"N-No matter what you didn't deserve that," He whimpered, voice wobbling. "If I had been even just a minute late you'd be dead a-and then what? I'd have to live with the fact that I killed you!"

"That wouldn't have been your fault and," You argued, sighing as your brows furrowed. "You got hurt in the end anyway so that's not a very good alternative!"

"Th-This is my punishment," The way he said it was so small and fragile. "I deserved to be punished for treating you like that."

"No, you don't deserve to be hurt, Taehyung!" You gasped, shocked at hearing such words come from him. He dissolved into sobs, leaving you sitting there stroking his hair to sooth him.

"Th-The truth is..." He sniffled. "I don't want you to go at all. I-I really like having you here and you make me feel less lonely."

"I..." Your heart felt warmed by his admission.

"E-Everyone went away when the Creature came and ever since it's just...been me," He whispered. "B-But you make me feel...happy, _____. I like you."

The confession trailed off as sleep seemingly overcame him. His grip loosened before his arm flopped off the side of the bed, making you smile. Being as gentle as possible, you placed his arm back beside him on the bed so his shoulder wouldn't ache when he woke up.

Then you set about trying to make him some food for when he awoke, no doubt he would be hungry.

You bumbled around the kitchen, humming softly to yourself as the mid-day sun warmed your skin through the window.

You had just pulled the soup off of the fire, smelling it with a smile, when you heard the bedroom door creak open.

"_____...smells good..." Taehyung limped into the kitchen, making you gasp. Placing the bowl on the counter, you rushed over to him to help him out and support his unsteady weight.

"You shouldn't be up! You should be resting!" You chastised, though you were secretly happy to see he was feeling okay enough to move around.

"'M sorry..." He mumbled sleepily, a yawn tapering off at the end. "Got lonely."

Sighing, you helped him sit on the couch. He winced when his wounds met the back to the couch.

"Well, I made some food," You said, placing the bowl carefully in front of him. Steam wafted off the top, showing that it was still quite hot. "I don't know all the herbs and spices you have but I just added what I thought smelled best."

"It does smell good," The grin he showed blindsided you; a contagious, boxy smile that made his eyes scrunch up.

It seemed Taehyung healed much quicker than a human would. Why wouldn't he? He was a creature made of magic.

Soon enough, you were able to remove the stitches from his back — albeit, with some whining from him. The skin was still sensitive, with three, large, puffy pink scars showing the evidence of his wound.

You were sitting at the table in front of the couch one day, stitching up the holes in the back of his shirt so it would be wearable again. You knew he didn't have a huge expanse of wardrobe so it would be best to salvage what you could.

You head Taehyung grunt followed by something heavy being dragged across the floor.

To your surprise, he was dragging his treasure box into the living room. There was sweat beading over his brow when he finally stopped in front of you.

"What're you doin'?" You asked with a smile, resting the shirt in your lap as you finished patching up a hole.

"I wanna..." He cleared his throat, ears burning bed as he flicked the latch open. "I want to show you my treasures."

"Really?" You asked, perking up immediately in curiosity.

He nodded his head, his little bunny ears bouncing with the movement. One by one, he began to pull things out of the box; the crystal, the journal, some silver dishes, a jeweled gauntlet, a pink gemstone, and a silver dagger. There were still more but the table could only hold so many things.

"Can I?" You asked, gesturing to the objects. He nodded, watching with wide eyes as you picked things up one by one.

You examined the objects with a small smile, Taehyung's expectant gaze sullied with nervousness.

"These are all so beautiful, Taehyung," You complimented, nearly cooing when his ears popped straight up as his eyes brightened.

"Really? You think so?" He sounded so excited that you couldn't help but laugh.

He was so endearing.

'I really do. I like them! Especially," You picked up the pink gem and held it up to the light. It reflected, causing light to bounce off the walls. "This gem is...beautiful, Taehyung. Where did you find it?"

"Th-There's a cave," Taehyung explained, scooting closer so he sat on his knees beside where you were perched on the couch. "It's too dangerous to enter but there was just this sitting outside the entrance one time!"

"There's a gem cave here?" You asked, eyes still glued to the gem.

"Mhmm, maybe I can...um," You jumped when he suddenly rested his cheek against your knee, smiling at where you twisted it in your hands. "I can show you one day, yeah?"

"I think that'd be nice," You agreed, leaning forward to place it back on the table.

"Hey can you..." He trailed off sitting up straighter as he avoided your gaze.

"Can I what?" You asked, glancing between him and the table of objects.

"Um...I just want to see what it's like to...if you, I mean," He cleared his throat, ears a vibrant red from embarrassment. You couldn't help but smile at him all shy and stuttering as he struggled to word his request.

Finally, he seemed to grow tired of his own inability to say it and grabbed your hand and placed it on his head. You watched for a minute, where your hand sat against his folded back bunny ears.

"Do you...want me to pet your ears?" You asked, mindlessly moving your fingers against the soft fur. He didn't offer a verbal response but nodded his head in response.

You sat like that for several minutes, Taehyung's head resting against your thigh as you stroked his ears. Every once in a while, you'd venture to graze against the soft surface of his antlers — discovering they were covered by fine little hairs all over.

Then, you grabbed the journal off the table, making Taehyung whine when you paused in petting his hair. When you struggled to open the journal, he easily popped it open to reveal yellowed, torn pages.

"I can't read so," He admitted, looking blankly at the pages. "I haven't gotten a chance to figure out what this journal is for but it was a humans I'm sure of it. I didn't really even look inside."

"You can't read?" You asked, mindlessly flipping past pages with ink too worn out to read.

"No I never learned," He easily admitted, nothing indicating that it bothered him in the slightest.

Suddenly, when you turned a page your body stiffened at what you saw. He hummed and looked up at you in question.

"Tae..." You whispered, turning the book to show him what you were seeing. "What are you seeing here?"

"Hey!" He perked up immediately in recognition. "That's the Creature! What's it say?"

"I-It's hard to make out everything," You admitted, bringing the book closer to see if you could make out anything. Shaking your head, you flipped a couple pages until you you were able to make out the text.

"Okay," You breathed, running your fingertips over the paper before reading what the pages held.

The month is Tluelp, day Pror of the year U9;

The trees have just begun their transition to oranges and reds. Unfortunately, it doesn't feel as if autumn is upon us. There is no comfort in the air that usually comes with the change in seasons.

The air is bitter and cold; the flow of magic is slowing. We suspect it has to do with Her.

We are doing our best to stop her, the black magic she plays with is defiling this land. It's too overpowering and it is killing.

We are going to have to do something. And soon.

"U9?" Taehyung asked, looking at the page although he couldn't read it. "What year is it now?"

"U15," You breathed, flipping over a couple pages you couldn't read.

"This journal is from 6 centuries ago?" He gasped. "What else does it say?"

The month is Tluelp, day Plerq, year U9;

The Witch is no more. We failed to kill her.

The magic, it has taken over her. It's horrible. It surrounds her very body.

Her humanity is gone and nothing but a Monster is left in her place.

I fear she will come for us soon. There is a bloodlust within her; she has slaughtered any magical creatures that come across her path.

So far she has remained in the forests but soon she will run out of creatures to feast upon.

Soon, we will be the only ones left.

She will come for us. It is only a matter of time.

"Did you know anything about this?" You asked him suddenly.

"Well," His brows came together in deep thought. "I know there were humans here at one point. I see some of their old villages, there's lots of cool things there but it's so open that I get scared it'll see me."

"Taehyung..." You realized there was something you never asked him. He hummed, flipping a few pages past some torn ones you wouldn't be able to read. "How come you're the only magical creature I've seen here?"

"I..." He paused, gnawing on his bottom lip. "I really don't know, ______. It just never...looks for me. I'm sure it knows I'm here but it never comes."

"I wonder why..." You mused. "It said in the journal it went after all creatures it could. I wonder why it spared you..."

"I wonder that too," He confessed, shrugging his shoulders as he frowned. You could sense the sullen change in his demeanor and quickly went back to the journal.

The month is Tluelp, day Cels, year U9;

I know now that my days are limited. I can only hope someone will find this and read what I have to say.

There is a slate we have made. Engraved on it is a map.

I beg that you follow the map.

Find it and accomplish what we could not.

Stop her before it is too late.

I can feel her footsteps now. She's coming.

This will be my last entry.

"A slate with a map engraved on it..." You mumbled, jumping when Taehyung suddenly hopped to his feet. His antlers just barely missed your face as he stood. "Tae?"

He began digging through his box again before pulling something out and running back over to you.

In his hands was a broken piece of a slate and you could immediately tell it was engraved with a map. It was too small of a fraction to be able to make out what it was for.

"Taehyung," You suddenly stood up, making him look at you as you put the journal back on the table. "Can you take me to where you found this?"

"Yeah!" He smiled, standing up as well. "Come on."

The sun was still high in the sky, offering a bit of warmth. You still wore a jacket to keep yourself even warmer.

You were thankful that the forest was far less menacing during the day, but it still held oppressive air that made your chest feel heavy. In one hand was Taehyung's hand. He started holding your hand tightly once the cottage was out of sight, glancing over his shoulder every other second to check on you.

It was sweet of him but truth be told, you kept glancing down at that fluffy little bunny tail.

Suddenly, there was a break in the treeline and you were out in the open.

You stood there, Taehyung's hand in yours, baffled by what was before you. Old homes made of sticks were in ruins in the remains of the centuries old village.

It filled you with a bittersweet feeling, knowing that these people weren't there living in the homes anymore. Remembering that it was all the Witch's doing filled you with new determination and you urged Taehyung to lead you to where the journal and slate were.

It was through a mess of a fallen house, a gap in the debris allowing you both to crawl through.

"This is where you found it?" You asked, voice echoing slightly in the enclosed space.

"Yeah, it was buried a little bit so I had to dig it out," He explained, beginning to sift through the dirt beneath him.

You followed his lead, pulling chunks of dirt away in random places in hopes to find something. There was dirt uncomfortably packed underneath your nails that you were dying to get out.

The two of you were silent for several long minutes. Suddenly, he gasped and yanked something so hard from the ground that he was knocked over by his own force when it came free. Dusting it off, he proudly showed you that he found a piece of the map.

You placed your part on the ground and matched the new addition together like a puzzle. It showed there were three fragments missing to the entirety of it; meaning you had just one more chunk to find.

Reassured that the pieces weren't scattered to kingdom come, your vigor in searching was renewed. You coughed as dirt particles wafted into the area, polluting the air quality in the confined space.

You let out a cry of victory as the slab came into view. Eagerly pulling it out, you dusted it off and added it to the other parts to show the completed map.

"It's too dim in here..." You complained, shaking your head before grabbing a piece and crawling out. Taehyung held the other two parts as he followed you out and into the sunlight.

"Hey there's stuff carved in the back," He suddenly said, looking at the unfamiliar letters.

"Let me see," You mumbled the two of you standing together so you could read what was written. "The blood of the pure hearted is what kills her. Follow the recipe for the potion."

Beneath, it was too worn out to read it as the engravings had eroded away over time. You sighed, shaking your head.

"What does that mean? Blood of the pure hearted?" Taehyung mumbled, flipping his pieces back over to gaze at the broken map.

You hummed, mulling over the words for several seconds before you perked up with an idea.

"Do you remember when it ran away because your blood got on it?" You asked eagerly. He nodded, cocking his head to the side as he waited for you to finish. "I think it's because you have a pure heart, Taehyung! That would also explain why she doesn't bother you and lets you live in peace! Your blood is her weakness!"

"But we don't have the recipe for the potion," He sullenly pointed out.

"Let's see this map again," You said, putting the pieces together once again. "Look...this reads...'you'll find what you need where the sacred tree lay roots'. I wonder what that means."

"I know where they're talking about," He muttered before grunting and adjusting his grip on the slate. "Let me fix it first."

You watched in awe as it began to emanate a bright yellow light from where the cracks sat before miraculously sealing up before your very eyes.

"I didn't know you had powers like that," You gasped.

"Well I am a creature of magic, _____," He giggled. "But I unfortunately don't have a lot of magic. It usually comes from what the land gives but with it dying...I can only channel so much."

"Incredible," You whispered before leveling him with a firm stare. "We'll fix this, Taehyung."

The sun was beginning to descend as you began your journey to the tree. Taehyung mostly knew the way, it seemed, but still regarded the map to be sure.

You struggled to keep up with his pace, his long legs and rabbit-like attributes making it difficult to match him. Still, he kept a firm grip on your hand with your fingers laced together. His skin was warm and soft to the touch, comforting.

"S-So what is this place?" You asked softly, stepping over a stray rock.

"It's just a special tree," He said, shrugging his shoulders. "It's always been there. I used to play on it with some friends back before..."

"Hey Taehyung..." You muttered, making him hum. "How old are you?"

"Hmm...you said it's the year U15?" He asked, glancing over his shoulder to see you nod. "I was born in U...13?"

"You're 2 centuries old?!" You cried, jogging to walk beside him. He kept his grip on your hand firm, not willing to let you stray away. "Are there...other magic creatures living here?"

"Hmm...yeah," He nodded, using his free hand to move a downed branch in your way. "There are still others alive and living but it's a constant battle for them. They don't have permanent homes like I do because the Creature hunts them down."

"Why do they choose to stay if that's the case?" You mumbled.

"I guess just..." He sighed, squeezing your hand. "Because it's home."

The two of you fell into silence, only the sound of your footsteps crunching on the grass. Anytime there was a new or strange sound, Taehyung would shield your body with his. Though it seemed subconscious, it was still incredibly sweet of him to protect you.

"It's up here!" He said, suddenly picking up speed so you had to jog to keep up.

You kept your eyes forward, scanning the area for what you were supposed to be looking for. It seemed it came into view when Taehyung made an 'ah-ha!'.

You came to a stop in front of a large tree. It appeared to be no different from the others in species but it was in a much further state of dying than any of the other trees you'd seen in the forest.

Though you weren't a creature of magic, you could feel the heavy energy coming off the tree. It emanated a foul, black smoke from within and the closer you got the more exhausted you became.

Taehyung seemed to be feeling the effects as well, albeit to a lesser extent than you. His magic abilities no doubt helping him keep his strength in the wake of such dark magic.

He released your hand and the two of you began looking around the tree.

"It said where the sacred tree lay roots..." You muttered, kneeling on the ground. "Maybe it’s been buried!"

"Good idea," He gasped, following your lead and beginning to shovel away dirt with his bare hands.

He was able to move faster than you, as the weight of the dark magic was fully hitting you. Small grunts left his lip suddenly as he seemed to struggle with pulling something free. You moved closer to him to help him, realizing there was a metal box buried.

Finally, it was pulled free and Taehyung rested it in his lap and flipped the latch open. Inside, the box held a rolled up script of paper and a clear vial containing a shimmering, vibrant red liquid.

He pulled the paper out and undid the knot of thread keeping it rolled up. Then he handed it to you, eyes watching you expectantly.

Looking down at the paper, you read what was scrawled in black ink.

If you followed the map, it led you here.

The Witch's dark magic makes her weak to the blood of the pure-hearted. Though we failed in our attempt to stop her, we managed to create a single vial of potion that can kill her.

If you fail with this, simply follow the recipe you have to make another batch.

In our attempt, we injured her but she was too powerful for us to handle. She wiped us out one by one and now there are only a few of us left. The hope for humanity to live here is gone now. Until She is gone, no life will thrive in these lands.

Our only saving grace is that we managed to create the map, recipe, and the one vial before our deaths. Coat an arrowhead in the potion and pierce her heart. It's the only way.

Whoever is reading this, please stop her.

Use this potion well, use it for those of us who failed and died in our attempt to save us and the magic.

Once she is gone, the tree will birth new, pure magic. And life will once again bloom.

"I uh..." Taehyung placed the paper back in the box and locked it shut again. "I can use a bow and arrow."

"You do?" You gasped, watching Taehyung nod quickly.

"In the winter I hunt animals for skins so I've gotten pretty good at it so I don't have to hide in the snow for hours," He proclaimed the fact proudly, making you smile.

"Do you think you can do it?" You asked softly.

"I know I can," The conviction in his voice was startling but comforting. Then, he looked up and sky and stood up. "We should get home before the sun's gone."

He took your hand in his once again and began to trek back to the cottage. By the time you were walking up the steps, darkness had covered the forest and you were eager to get back inside where you felt safe.

"Let's prepare what we need," Taehyung said, grabbing a leather bag of arrows and placing them on the table beside the metal box. "We'll coat the arrows in the potion and we'll do it tomorrow, okay?"

"How will we find her?"

"It may take a while but she'll be easy enough to find if she's on the move," He explained, pulling the cork out of the vial.

It smelled sweet, almost floral once opened. Then, the two of you fell quiet using your fingers to carefully smear the potion on the arrowheads. He carefully placed them back in the leather bag before moving on to the next arrow to coat.

You didn't sleep very well that night, the arrows sitting on the table taunting you alongside the empty potion bottle.

It felt like you were laying alone in the dark for hours until Taehyung's bedroom door creaked open and he wandered down the hallway. He lingered in the entryway to the living room for a moment before you spoke.

"What is it Tae?" You asked, making him jump.

"You're awake," He breathed, walking closer.

You sat up a bit, letting him sit down before resting your head in his lap. It was comfortable and when he gently threaded his fingers through your hair, you felt your body relax significantly.

He had such a profound impact on you and you appreciated having him there in that moment.

"Can't sleep?" You asked him.

"No," He admitted, head resting back against the couch. "Thinking about how important tomorrow is."

"Yeah..." You sighed. "We can do it, though, Tae. I know we can."

He fell quiet,mindlessly stroking your hair as you slowly began to drift off. Somewhere in your subconscious, you could hear him whisper 'i hope so' before he began to softly hum a melody.

The next morning, as you stood in the doorway, you couldn't deny the way your heart was pounding in your chest.

Taehyung pushed your hair off your shoulders and put it up in a ponytail, tying it with a pink ribbon. His bunny ears twitched mindlessly atop his head and you couldn't help but smile.

"What is it?" He asked, giggling down at you.

"It's just...your ears are cute," You confessed, watching as his ears began to turn red.

"Y-You think so?" He reached up and scratched at one of them while avoiding your gaze.

"Yeah I do," You smiled, biting your lip when his gaze finally met yours.

"______," He whispered, stepping closer so your bodies were just barely touching. Cupping your chin between his thumb and forefinger, he drew your head upwards. "I know you're nervous but I'll protect you."

"Tae..." You felt breathless when his lips slowly descended upon yours. He gave you a split second to change your mind, but when you didn't, he kissed you softly. The kiss seemingly lasted an eternity, and when he pulled back his cheeks were pink and yours were burning.

"I think you know what I want to say but...I'll save it for when we come back home successful," He grinned, kissing your forehead before turning around and grabbing the bow and arrows he had waiting by the door. Taking your hand in his, he tugged you out the door.

Your heart was still pounding violently, but Taehyung was the cause this time.

It felt as if you were trekking through the forest for hours, following Taehyung around as he seemed to be drawn by different noises that would lead him to change direction. You were growing tired but you fought it, knowing you needed to be alert through the fight.

You were holding onto him, your hand in his and holding onto his bicep. It felt nice to have him close and you kept thinking about the kiss you'd shared.

You hoped to experience more.

Suddenly, the ground began to rumble in time to footsteps. You both froze where you stood, Taehyung quickly pulling out his bow out and positioning an arrow — ready to fire the second he needed to.

The sound of trees falling and you held your breath, looking around to locate where it would be coming from.

Finally it came into view, knocking trees over as the black magic physically wafted off of it — polluting the air immediately. It paused, red eyes locating the two of you — specifically you.

It roared, making you flinch and cover your ears with your hands. You could only imagine how it hurt Taehyung's ears. Still, he stood strong and pulled the string back, ready to shoot.

The creature took another stop and Taehyung took it's shot. You both watched as it arched before dropping fort of its foot — embedding in the ground.

It stepped forward, crushing it beneath its weight before advancing forward on the two of you.

Panicked, Taehyung took another shot and missed. You heard him cuss before the deafening crack of a tree erupted.

"Move!" Taehyung screamed at you, pushing you so you fell to your side with an 'oof'.

The tree fell and slammed against the ground right where you had been. You were panting, listening to the creature shriek when an arrow Taehyung shot hit its arm — enraging it.

Still, it kept its sights locked on you and began to make its way over to you. Taehyung shot again but missed, you knew he was panicking too hard.

"Taehyung!" You shouted over the fallen tree. "I have an idea!"

"No! Don't do anything!" Taehyung argued, but you ignored.

"I'll just distract her so you can get a clean shot!" You explained before getting back to your feet.

You waved your arms, jumping up to entice the creature to watch you. It was paused, keeping its eyes on you as you ran, getting it to turn its torso more towards Taehyung.

You looked back to see Taehyung dropping the arrow he had in his hand. Distracted, you missed the root of a fallen tree in your path and plummeted to the ground.

Immediately, a searing pain erupted up your leg and cried out.

"______!" Taehyung shouted, lowering his bow.

The panic between the two of you seemed to lure the creature into action. It was jutting its clawed hand forward, preparing to kill you where you laid vulnerable on the ground.

Everything happened in a flash when you felt the warm spray of blood over your body.

But no pain.

Opening your eyes, you felt a sob tear through your throat. Taehyung's back was to you, the tip of a claw poking out of his back — having been impaled on the creature.

"T-Tae..." You choked, watching as he used the last of his strength to aim his bow.

His hands were shaking and he had his own blood on them. But he pulled the string back and let it go.

The close proximity allowed him to get a clean hit. The creature shrieked, its claw ripping free from Taehyung's body — making him cry out and crumple to the ground.

All at once, a brilliant yellow light erupted in a ring around the creature and surrounded it. It continued to shriek and flail even as it was slowly swallowed up until nothing but pure green grass was left.

You hovered beside Taehyung as his blood pooled beneath him on the ground. You could barely acknowledge the way the trees and grass came back to life, and the oppressing black magic disappeared as you watched the blood drip from Taehyung's paling lips.

"I really," Taehyung swallowed thickly, wincing as he did it. The sight of your tears broke his heart but you still looked beautiful in the light. He could feel the shift in magic, the change in atmosphere. "I really love you."

You couldn't even get your response out before his eyes were fluttering shut and he let out a final exhale.

"Tae?" You whispered, shaking him, sobbing. "Tae?! Taehyung!"

You cried out when the grass began to spring up around him — covering his body slowly. Vines wrapped around him and slowly his body began to sink into the grass. You reached out, hand on his until it disappeared and you were left grasping solid ground.

"But...I love you too, Tae," You cried, shoulders shaking as you bent over to rest your forehead against where he once was. "Please don't go..."

You were there until the sun began to set. It was difficult to stand up with your ankle in pain but it was most difficult to leave that spot — where Taehyung had been.

You barely acknowledged that there were crickets chirping, breaking the silence that had been raining since you arrived.

Walking up the stairs of the cottage took a long time, having to use the railings to support your weight. You also really didn't want to go inside but you knew you had to.

Inside, it was cold and lifeless the second you stepped foot on the wood floors.

Sitting on the table was the potion vial and metal box you'd found with him just yesterday. Wandering to the hallway, you passed the treasure box he had never brought to his room. Inside the bedroom, you let your tears fall once again. The bed was unmade, evidence that he had been there though it was now beginning to feel as if he was never even real.

Kicking your shoes off, you crawled into the bed and wrapped yourself in his blankets. His scent overwhelmed you and you curled up into a ball to cry yourself to sleep — thinking over the last words he spoke.

'I really love you.'

The feeling of something softly dabbing at your forehead. It was so gentle that it barely roused you.

Something being wrapped around your ankle — the soreness of it coming to the forefront of your mind. Waking a bit more, you could hear a soft humming of a melody.

Your eyes fluttered open, struggling to adjust to the light of the morning. Something moved into your vision.

Antlers, twitching bunny ears...and the soft smile of Taehyung.

Immediately, tears were falling down your cheeks, making him frown and cock his head.

"Why are you crying?" He asked, tucking some hair behind your ear. "If anyone should cry, it should be me. You didn't take very good care of yourself — your ankle could have been broken, you know."

Not offering a response, you threw your arms around his shoulders and pressed a harsh kiss to his lips. You clung onto the back of his shirt, whimpering when he began to return the kiss.

Pulling back, you buried your face in his neck and relished in the feeling of his arms wrapping around you.

"I-Is it really you?" You sniffled, wiping tears from your cheeks as you pulled back.

"Yes," He smiled when you stroked the soft fur of his ears and caressed his antlers. "The land it...thanked me. With its magic returned, it healed me so I could return to you. It could feel your sadness."

"I was so scared, I didn't know what I would do without you, Tae," You confessed, wrapping your arms around him in a hug again — needing to feel him close. You could hear his heartbeat in his chest and closed your eyes against the rhythm.

Before long, you were locked in another kiss. It became more passionate and heated with every second that passed.

He crawled onto the bed, body hovering above yours as he settled his weight on both hands on either side of your head. His tongue met the seam of your lips and you eagerly granted him access.

He sighed into your mouth when your hands slipped beneath his shirt to caress the smooth skin of his sides. Dropping onto one of his elbows, he gripped your thigh with his free hand to spread your legs for him to settle between them. The close proximity of your bodies allowed you to feel the way he was hardening in his pants, his length pressed against your thigh.

He followed your lead and slid his hand up your shirt, fingertips ghosting over your ribs to your chest where he discovered you weren't wearing a bra. He groaned, cupping your breast and rolling your nipple beneath his thumb to feel you tremble beneath him.

He suddenly sat up, a string of saliva connecting your lips briefly. You felt the air get knocked out of your lungs when he pulled his shirt off — revealing the tanned expanse of his body.

He was built nicely, evidence of an active lifestyle in the way you could faintly see abs.

You followed his lead, tugging your shirt off to throw it to the floor somewhere. He groaned, covering your body with his once again as he enveloped one of your nipples in his mouth.

His tongue was hot as he flicked the bud, fingers coming up to pinch the other one.

"Tae..." You whispered, threading your fingers through his hair, being mindful of his ears and antlers.

"Sound so pretty..." He mumbled, swapping to lap at your other nipple — paying it equal attention until he felt it was enough.

"Please touch me," You begged, reaching down to cup his length in his pants. He was painfully hard and obviously big, it made your panties dampen.

"Is that what you want?" He asked, nosing at your jaw to press kisses against your neck.

"Yes, please," You whined, beginning to push your pants down your thighs.

Taehyung immediately leaned back to watch as your panties were exposed before helping you shed them completely.

Immediately, his hand was between your thighs cupping your heat. You spread your legs, silently inviting him to touch you all he wanted. He took you up on the offer, middle finger prodding between your folds — the material of your panties against your clit making you whimper. The sound made Taehyung's cock throb in his pants but he ignored it, wanting to make you whimper and whine more for him.

He wanted you to beg for him.

Slipping the crotch of your panties to the side, he sunk one finger into your hole — making your back arch at the unexpected fullness. Your were already so wet but he wanted you wetter.

Crooking his finger, he found that spot inside you that had you gasping and grinding down. He easily fit another finger in, the slight stretch making your walls spasm in pleasure. His constant abuse on your g-spot made you gush, coating his fingers in your juices.

"T-Tae...your mouth..." You whimpered, fisting his hair.

He smirked. "What about it?"

"I want it..." You whined, tugging his hair impatiently.

"Oh?" He had a cocky smirk on his face that you wanted so badly to smack off it.

"Tae!" You complained, arching your hips up in hopes to entice him into giving you what you wanted.

"Where exactly? Here?" He trailed his fingers up your thigh. "Oh maybe here?" Fingers on your hip. He chuckled when you suddenly whined again. "Oh, I see...here."

His thumb was suddenly on your clit, grinding against the bud until your knees spasmed closed. With an impressive show of strength, he forced your legs apart again, pinning your knees to the bed to leave you completely exposed.

Then, his mouth was on you — sucking your clit into his mouth. He groaned at your taste, slowly beginning to fuck his fingers into you — the wet sound of your cunt going right to his cock. He licked your clit, the bud hard and swollen beneath his tongue — so sensitive and needy for him.

"'M gonna make you cum," He groaned, doubling his efforts. The feeling of his hot, wet mouth on your clit and his fingers fucking your g-spot just right was quick to push you off the edge.

You came hard.

You felt him moan against your clit as you gushed around his fingers, the way he fucked you through it making you squirt. He loved it, his cock throbbing so hard he was sure he could have cum.

You reached down and stopped him, pushing his head away from your cunt. His face was coated in your juices and he didn't waste any time popping the fingers that had been inside you into his mouth. His eyes rolled back into his head at your taste and he chased it by licking his lips clean as well.

"You made a mess," He teased, hooking his fingers into your panties to tug them down. Your legs were trembling from the force of your orgasm, making his heart swell with pride.

"Y-You made me make a mess," You pouted, eyes not leaving his form as he began to push his own pants down.

His cock sprang free, slapping against his stomach and leaving a spot of precum on his skin. You were right about him being big and you couldn't resist reaching out to wrap your hand around the base of him. He was hot and heavy in your grip, throbbing incessantly in time to his heartbeat.

His fringe hung in his eyes, making his gaze look darker as he stared down at you. You kept your eyes on him as you leaned forward, mouth opening to take the head of him into your mouth. His lashes fluttered the second your tongue met the slit of his cock, tasting his precum.

He wrapped his fist in your hair and whimpered when you took even more of him into your mouth. He was so big that you could only take so much before he was pushing your gag reflex and you had to pull back. He quickly collected the drool that had collected on your lips and used it to lubricate his cock as he wrapped his fist around himself.

It was hard to believe this was the cute Taehyung who asked for you to pet his ears. He had his bottom lip trapped between his teeth as he stroked his cock.

"Lay back and spread your legs," He ordered, voice thick was lust.

You did as he told you, spreading your thighs so your swollen, wet cunt was exposed to his greedy gaze. His grip tightened around his cock as he cussed and you whimpered, watching him resume stroking himself.

It dawned on you that he was jerking off to the sight of you spread beneath him. The thought alone made your cunt clench and gush. Taehyung didn't miss it, smirking and angling his cock to run through your folds — collecting your cum on the head of him.

Suddenly, he laid three consecutive smacks against your clit with his cock. You gasped, fisting the bedding beneath you at the feeling. He chuckled, prodding at your entrance.

"Please, Tae," You begged, reaching down to take his cock into your grasp.

He let you, releasing his own hold to watch as you popped the head of him into your entrance. You both moaned at the feeling and it was all Taehyung needed to sink in completely.

His bumped your cervix, making you sob and flinch.

"Y-You can't even take all of me..." He whispered, more of an observation than dirty talk but it still made you clench and gush around him. He chuckled, mindlessly reaching up to cup your breast. "Does that excite you? Taking me even though you can't even fit all of me?"

"Y-Yes, I love i-it Tae," You confessed, circling your clit as you ground your hips down to stir his cock inside you. "Y-Your cock is so big, feels so good."

He chuckled, pulling back — the drag of his thick cock against your walls making you tremble. When he pushed back in, he grazed your cervix once again but the spike of pain only increased the pleasure.

You cried out, wrapping your arms around Taehyung to pull him into a deep kiss. His pace didn't falter, he continued to fuck you clenching cunt even as your walls started to flutter around him again.

"Coming!" You sobbed, knees tightening around his sides as you came again.

Taehyung ground, watching as your juices splattered all over him — making you gush more every time his cock grazed your g-spot.

"Messy..." He growled in your ear. "Love that you're so messy..."

Suddenly he pulled out, your hole clenching pathetically at the emptiness. He gripped your hips and helped you roll over onto your hands and knees. Gripping your ass, he pulled your cheeks apart to sink back into your soaking cunt.

You cried out, mindlessly grinding back to get more. He obliged, setting an even faster pace than before. You were so sensitive that you felt yet another orgasm mounting inside you.

"G-God Tae!" You cried, tossing your head back.

He helped you sit up on your knees, back against his chest as he cupped your breasts. He was panting in your ear, whispering soft curses mixed with whimpers of his own. His cock was throbbing inside you, signaling that his own end was near.

"I-I'm gonna..." He warned, biting his lip as he found your clit with two long digits.

Two quick circles on the sensitive bud had you falling over the edge. He came with you, hot cum gushing inside you and making you gasp. It dripped down your thighs, mixing with your own cum as you gushed around him again.

He ground into you some more and let you fall back to the bed.

As you caught your breath, he settled in behind you and pressed kisses against your shoulder.

To your surprise, he lifted you leg in the air and gently sunk back inside you.

"Oh! Tae!" You whined, reaching down to grip his hand as oversensitivity set in.

"I've got you," He cooed, all darkness in his voice gone as he peppered whatever skin he could with kisses.

You panted, whimpering and trembling as he fucked you. It was a much softer pace and you could feel his gaze on you.

When you looked over your shoulder, he leaned down and pressed his lips against yours. You moaned into the kiss, legs twitching as his angle shifted to graze that sweet spot inside you.

"I love you so much," He confessed, words immediately bringing tears to your eyes.

"Tae I..." He pulled out of you, shifting you onto your back so he could fit back between them again. "I love you too."

He met your lips in a soft kiss when he sunk back inside you. His face was buried in your neck, panting against your skin as he kept his thrusts shallow. His pelvic bone ground against your clit, quickly bringing you to the edge.

He took your hand, lacing your fingers with his as he rested his forehead against yours.

"With me..." He ordered.

He squeezed your hand as he felt you clench around him, back arching as you came. It was a much gentler high — it crested and faded as he pumped you full of even more of his cum. It was hot inside you and you felt it gush out of you when he pulled his softening cock from your walls.

He pecked your lips, still hovering above you.

"I really do love you," He whispered, kissing you again.

"I know," You smiled. "I love you too."

"How about we go down to the creek," He smiled, sitting up slightly. "And clean up."

Without his body covering yours, you could feel just how...wet your body was. A mixture of your fluids between your legs and down your thighs. Taehyung was in no better shape.

"That sounds nice," You giggled, letting him help you stand up.

When you woke again, it was deafening how loud it was after so long in silence. Birds were chirping, frogs were croaking, and bees were buzzing.

You sat on the stairs outside, watching as rabbits and deer frolicked and munched on the freshly livened grass.

The door creaked open, indicating Taehyung's arrival. He sat down beside you, the black cloth he used to protect his treasures in his hands.

"What's that?" You asked, resting your head on his shoulder.

"It's something for you..." He whispered, fingers shaking as he unraveled it to reveal the pink gemstone from his treasure box. "I want you to have it."

"Taehyung..." You smiled, taking it from the cloth and clutching it tightly. "Thank you, I love it."

He grinned, kissing your cheek softly.

"That means you're really mine now!"

[phantom-curve]

Second birthday is such a cool thing to call that! 8 or 35 if you are feeling so inclined.

Thank you! When I was a kid my mom always tried to call it my rebirth-day and I was like no❤️ I went with some Willex whump (with a fluffy end) for this one! Set in the gimme a chance AU, featuring pro-skateboarder Willie and anxious Alex. This is also a bit of a companion piece to the #8 prompt I wrote earlier!

#35: kissing their bruises and scars (Trigger Warning: mentions of injury, mild description of panic attack, and mentions of a car accident. Rated T for language) 

Alex generally tried not to think about worst case scenarios when Willie was competing. If he let himself, it was way too easy to imagine all types of situations that ended with Willie broken and bleeding at the base of a halfpipe while Alex stood helplessly on the sidelines. It didn’t help anything for him to obsess over what could happen, especially because at this point, Alex knew skateboarding was as much a part of Willie as drumming was a part of him.

It was just that ever since Willie had gotten his first sponsorship and moved to the pro circuit six months ago, he had started taking bigger risks. More complex tricks and a lot less hesitation to go big when he was representing the brands that were paying his bills. And that meant longer hours practicing and a higher chance of injury on a daily basis. Alex wanted to be a supportive boyfriend, the kind that would show up at the skate park to cheer and not have a panic attack every time that Willie wiped out, but he wasn’t. He was just an anxious guy in love with a dude who seemed determined to break every single bone in his body.

Things only got worse when Willie started traveling for competitions. He was gone almost every weekend, and Luke had finally convinced the manager at the bar he worked at to let Sunset Curve preform regular Saturday shows, and so, more often than not, Willie would be somewhere else in California flinging his body down an insanely tall ramp with nothing but a helmet and some pads to protect him while Alex was trapped in LA losing himself in the familiar pattern of sticks against drums in an attempt to control his raging anxiety. It had about a 68% success rate. That success rate increased dramatically when Willie called Alex the second he knew his set was ending. It plummeted on the nights Alex didn’t hear from him until much later, or worse, heard from a different skater entirely.

Tonight was unfortunately one of those nights.

When their set ended, Reggie called out the same line he had coined after their first performance, a couple audience members chiming in with him because they actually had a bit of a fan following now, and Alex wasted no time in grabbing his phone from the fanny pack he kept behind his kit during shows. Instead of it lighting up with a picture of his boyfriend’s face, he was met with a series of missed calls and text messages from the guys Willie was rooming with for the weekend. He tried not to panic, tried to breathe in deeply to a count of five, holding it for just as long before exhaling again. It kept the anxiety at bay for as long as it took for him to unlock the phone and read the last missed message.

Don’t worry, bro. They’re gonna airlift him back to LA so you can just meet him at the hospital whenever.

Panic hit full force. What the actual fuck had happened to his boyfriend?! Alex’s fingers were shaking too much for him to open the other messages, his vision going blurry and a distant ringing sounding out in his ears. It took him longer than it should to realize Luke was crouched down in front of him, Reggie hovering just beyond the drum kit.

“You have to breathe, Lex. C’mon, follow me.”

Luke inhaled deeply before letting his breath out in a loud woosh. Alex tried to copy him, but his chest felt too tight, his throat closing in the more he tried to open it. Luke kept talking, his voice low and calm.

“Try again, we can do it together. We just have to breathe, nothing else.”

Alex inhaled with Luke that time, not quite as deeply and not quite as steady, but more air than he had managed to get before. It took several long moments before he was able to match Luke completely, the fog starting to clear from his brain, surroundings snapping back into focus.

“Great, good, just keep breathing, okay? I’m gonna go grab the office keys and we’ll take a minute in there to talk, okay?”

Alex nodded, not exactly wanting Luke to leave but knowing whatever his best friend was saying logically made sense. Reggie slipped into the space Luke had been occupying, breathing in the exact same pattern, and Alex refocused on him. When Reggie stood, Alex copied him, reaching out to grip the back of Reggie’s red flannel as he led them both off of the stage and down the hallway to the office in the back of the bar. Alex dropped onto the couch, burying his face in his hands.

“Lex? Can you tell us what’s going on?”

Reggie’s voice was soft and quiet, like a gentle melody. Alex let it wash over him, knew his boys would be able to help if he could just figure out how to get his mouth to form the words it desperately didn’t want to say out loud. He fought to speak for a few moments before finally just thrusting his phone forward. A hush fell over the room as Luke and Reggie scrolled through the texts and Alex was suddenly grateful that he wouldn’t have to read through them himself. After what felt like an eternity but was probably only a few minutes, Luke cleared his throat and spoke.

“Okay, so good news or bad news first?”

“How can there possibly be good news?”

Alex’s throat felt raw and scratchy, the words coming out broken and strangled. Luke and Reggie exchanged a quick glance before Reggie sat next to Alex on the couch. Not touching, but close enough for Alex to feel comforted all the same.

“Willie isn’t dead or dying, so yes, there is good news. Which one do you want first?”

A significant amount of the panic left Alex’s system at the reassurance that his boyfriend was alive and going to stay that way for the time being. It hit him all at once, sending him into Reggie’s side as he let out a cry of relief. Reggie’s hand stroked up and down Alex’s arm, a low hum sounding in the back of his throat. Luke spoke again.

“Okay, so good news is that Willie is probably already back in LA, he’s at the best hospital he can be at, and he’s going to be fine.”

Alex clung to the words like a life raft. Willie was going to be fine. He turned it into a mantra, repeating it over and over again until he felt like he was back in control, no longer on the precipice of drowning. He disentangled himself from Reggie’s arms, took a deep breath, and met Luke’s gaze.

“I’m ready. Gimme the bad news.”

Luke let out a long breath before sitting down on Alex’s other side.

“The guys were in a car accident. They didn’t even make it to the competition. Willie was in the passenger seat and he took the worst hit in the collision. The other guys got taken to a local hospital, but they had to send Willie to Cedars-Sinai because of some special orthopedic department there. Max said they mentioned he would be admitted to the post-trauma floor.”

A car accident. He didn’t even make it to the competition. Alex had considered himself prepared for the worst when it came to Willie and his chosen profession. He had told himself that loving Willie meant accepting the risk that came with skateboarding, especially at the level that Willie did it. He had not once considered the fact that Willie could be hurt in some type of freak accident that had nothing to do with skating. The life raft slipped from his mental fingers, hurtling him back into the sea of despair once again.

“We got this, okay?” Luke was still speaking. “Reg is gonna call an Uber and take you to the hospital, and I’m gonna get Dante and Felix to help pack up stuff here and then come meet you. It’s gonna be okay.”

Luke’s words painted a path for Alex to follow, a way to move forward without having to fight so hard to do so. He nodded, allowed himself to be bundled out of the employee entrance and into the car Reggie had called. Clung to Reggie’s flannel again as they traversed the white hallways of the hospital, eventually making their way to a nurse’s station situated on the post-trauma surgical floor. Alex didn’t even let himself think about what that string of words implied. Not until Reggie nudged him forward to speak with the blonde-haired woman with kind brown eyes sitting behind the welcome desk. He forced himself to clear the lump in his throat and scrape some words together.

“Hi, I’m uh, my name is Alex. Alex Mercer? I’m looking for my boyfriend Willie? William, actually, his name is William Stewart. He was...he was in a car crash.”

The words came out in starts and stops, cracking at the edges as Alex forced them through numb lips. The nurse nodded, her fingers tapping across the keyboard in a sharp staccato.

“He’s out of surgery, but might still be a bit groggy. The limit is one visitor at a time, so your friend will have to wait out here.”

Alex turned to Reggie with a blank stare.

“You got this, Lex. Remember, he’s gonna be fine. I’ll be right here, and Luke is on his way too. Whatever you need, okay? We got you.”

Alex nodded even though the movement itself felt like a lie. The nurse smiled softly at him and for one split moment Alex wished he could call his mom, hear her comforting voice the way he used to when he was a scared little kid. But he had Luke and Reggie now. And Willie, who was alive somewhere in this hospital.

“He’s in room 604, just down the hall.”

Alex forced his feet to move. Forced himself to count the numbers on the wall until he found 604. Forced himself to open the door and enter the room.

Willie looked so small on the bed, his dark hair a mess across the stark white pillowcase, his leg encased in plaster and suspended from some contraption that hung down from the ceiling. He turned his head at the noise of the door opening, eyes half open and soft with sleep or maybe painkillers. The smile on his face was a mere shadow of its normal sunshine.

“Hey, Hotdog.”

Alex wanted to cry. He wanted to scream and curl into a ball and absolutely lose it. But instead, he walked to the side of Willie’s bed and sat down in the chair next to it that seemed to have been waiting just for him.

“Have you been crying? Please tell me you weren’t crying.”

Okay, Willie was definitely on drugs. Because of course, Alex had been crying.

“Yes, I’ve been crying! Are you kidding me?”

Willie winced slightly and Alex was instantly swamped with guilt.

“No, okay, let me try that again.”

He took a deep breath and reached up to brush a few stray hairs away from Willie’s face. There were a number of cuts and bruises marring his skin, a few of them hidden under bandages.

“Hey pretty boy, I’m so glad you’re not dead. I’ve never been more scared than when I saw that text from Max. I thought you cracked your head open on a halfpipe or something, what the hell happened?”

Willie tried to shrug and grimaced, like it hurt. Alex’s hands fluttered uselessly above his boyfriend’s body, unsure where would be safe to touch. He settled for grabbing the hand that Willie offered which was thankfully unmarked, nothing but some leftover scars from catching himself at the skatepark.

“I think our car flipped? There was a lot of crashing and my leg really fuckin hurt. It’s still hurts.”

Willie frowned, clearly addled from the leftover anesthesia and whatever they were giving him for the pain. Alex pulled his hand up to press a series of kisses across Willie’s knuckles, making sure to cover each scar at least once.

“You can’t die on me, Wills. I fucking love you, okay? I know you do insane stunts and regularly let yourself get beat to crap at the skate park, but you can’t fucking die on me in some stupid car accident. I’d lose my goddamn mind without you.”

“You love me?”

Willie’s voice was soft and awed and Alex suddenly realized he hadn’t ever actually said those words out loud before even though they’d been living in his brain for months now. When he looked into Willie’s eyes he saw a hint of wetness there, and his heart melted.

“Yes, I love you, you fucking dork. I’ve been in love with you for months.”

Willie grinned, dopey eyed and pink cheeked.

“Well, I’ve been in love with you for like, ever. So, I win. Gimme a kiss for my prize.”

Alex laughed and rolled his eyes, but obliged, nonetheless. Willie might not remember this interaction, but Alex would never forget it. A look of absolute peace settled onto his boyfriend’s face.

“I knew you’d come. I knew as soon as that car hit us that when I woke up, you’d be here. You’re the best boyfriend ever, that’s why I love you. And you’re so hot. Like, really hot.”

Alex’s cheeks burned, his heart kicking into overdrive.

“C’mere,” Willie nodded his head to the side and tried to shuffle over, like he was inviting Alex to climb in next to him. He made a disgruntled sound when the contraption his leg was in refused to budge, frowning up at the suspension system.

“That’s so lame, what the fuck? I wanna cuddle.”

And Alex, unable to resist even when he knew it would probably be better for Willie if he did, climbed up to wedge his body into the small space between Willie and the guardrails on his bed. He tucked one arm behind Willie’s head, pulling his face into the space between his neck and shoulder. Willie let out a contented sigh, his breath sending shivers down Alex’s spine.

“You smell like you,” Willie whispered, the sound happy and relaxed. “I love you, Lex.”

“I love you, too.” Alex sighed, kissing his way across every single cut and bruise he could reach without moving.

Willie settled into place, his body going lax and soft snores sounding out against Alex’s chest within moments. Alex let his own head fall to rest against the top of Willie’s, finally allowing himself to believe everything would be okay. When the same nurse came to tell him that his other friend had arrived and maybe it would be best to come back in the morning, he accepted it without complaint. She gave him a final moment to say goodnight, Alex taking the time to make sure Willie was tucked in tight before kissing his temple softly.

Willie was going to be okay, and Alex was going to spend the rest of his life making sure he was always the one there to kiss his scrapes and bruises.

Send me prompts for my second birthday!

[s1ut4harrypotter]

savior complex

George Weasley x Fem!reader

this is based on savior complex by phoebe bridgers, my favorite song. it’s not my best work or anything but i sorta liked writing it. I haven’t been able to figure out endings on any of my wip’s so i might put a bunch of stuff out this week but idk. yet another without a happy ending because as usual i’m a piece of shit.

Warnings: sad, angst, mentions of canon character death, not proofread. If there’s anything wrong with it let me know lolz

word count: 2.5k

lyrics in italics/bold

tags: @amourtentiaa

Emotional affair, overly sincere

It’s been almost a year and a half since Fred died. George seems to be getting better, but also more distant. He is happy and joking around again, but he has been going to see Angelina more often. You and George had been dating since your 6th year at Hogwarts, you were going to be together forever. But now, as the days go by, he is getting farther and farther away from you. 

Smoking in the car, windows up. Crocodile tears

You were there for George, through everything. You didn’t shy away from any of it, the nightmares, the rage, the sadness, you were there. You helped him, he had started smoking, you’d find him in his dad's old Ford Anglia, smoking a cigarette, sobbing. you got in, rolled up the windows, took the cigarette, and took him on a drive.

Run the tap til its clear

 We pulled up to a small cliff we used to hang out at during the summer and held him while he cried. We had talked for the whole night, we only left when the sun started to come up. 

Drift off on the floor

You tried to keep him involved with the rest of the world, so you started having monthly movie nights with the rest of his siblings. One night a month, everyone would go to one person’s flat and watch a movie or two. One month, it was your turn to have everyone at your flat, the two of you lived alone in the flat now, since Fred was gone. George hadn’t been sleeping well and ended up falling asleep halfway through the movie. Once everyone was gone, you cleaned up and decided not to wake him. 

I drag you to the shore

Just as you were about to walk into your bedroom, you heard him. George had been having nightmares since Fred died. Some nights you’d make him a potion for dreamless sleep, but tonight the two of you forgot. You sighed and walked back to the living room,

You’re gonna drown in your sleep, for sure

“Georgie” you whispered. “Georgie it’s me, y/n you gotta wake up darling.” he was sweating buckets and breathing heavily. You gently coaxed him awake and walked him back to your bedroom, he started to cry. “I’m so sorry darling” you cooed, as you stroked his hair, trying to get him to fall back asleep.

Wake up and start a big fire, in our one room apartment

He wouldn’t stop crying now, he was hiccuping and mumbling incoherent things into your chest. You were so tired, you were the only one with a job at this point, not that minded, you had just had a long day and needed to go to sleep. 

But i’m too tired, to have a pissing contest.

“George, darling, you need to breathe, take deep breaths, you’re going to throw up if you don’t calm down Georgie.” he had a bad habit of crying until he threw up, then passing out and falling asleep. 

“He’s gone. It’s my fault. I should’ve been there. It should’ve been me.” He hiccupped out, crying harder now. You were on the verge of tears too, you hated how sad he was. 

“No George. You can’t think like that, it wasn’t your fault. Fred wouldn’t want you to feel this way.” you spoke softly into his ear. 

“Don’t tell me what he would’ve wanted y/n” he suddenly got serious. “You didn’t know him like I did.”

“Of course I didn’t know him like you did George, but I like to think that I knew him pretty well, and I don’t think he was the kind of person to want you wallowing in your bed, wishing it had been you instead of him.”

“God y/n can you just go? Please? I want to be alone tonight.” he said, you scoffed. He couldn’t be serious, but you were tired and you didn’t want to upset him more. You slept on the couch that night.

All the bad dreams that you hide.

You were grieving too, you had met Fred first at Hogwarts, then he introduced you to George. You felt like you had been really good friends with Fred, so it really hurt when George said things like that, but you knew he didn’t really mean it. Sometimes he just said things like that when he was upset, you understood, he was hurting. Sometimes he wouldn’t tell you about his dreams, he would just change the subject whenever you asked, you had dreams about Fred’s death sometimes too. You were with him and Percy when it happened, you’d constantly beat yourself up for it, all the things you could have done differently to save George from this pain, but what’s done is done. 

Show me yours and i’ll show you mine

You wished that George would tell you what was going on with him. He had been going through different stages over the past year, at first he didn’t talk at all. You’d walk by his room at night and he’d be mumbling things to himself, never anything you could make out. Then he started telling you how he was feeling, anything and everything that he felt, he’d tell you. You liked it then, even if he was sad and there wasn’t much you could do about it, at least you could be sad together. Now he didn’t tell you anything, he just brushed you off.

Call me when you land, i’ll drive around again.

You loved him so much, there wasn’t much he could do that you wouldn’t take. You were willing to wait for him to get better. You knew he was hurting, you knew it would take time for him to get back to the ‘old George’, if there was even any of him left. You’d never say it out loud, but you knew everyone else was thinking it. When Fred died, he took a big piece of George with him. It brought you so much heartache that he was in pain. You wished you could just bring Fred back, then maybe you could get your George back. But you were willing to wait.

One hand on the wheel, one in your mouth. Turn me on, and turn me down.

You and him hadn’t been intimate in months, you knew George was hurt, and he would only ever think about it on his good days, which were now few and far between. But it was ok, you were willing to wait for him. You loved him. 

Baby you’re a vampire, you want blood and I promised. I’m a bad liar.

Lately you felt as though you never saw the happy side of George. He’d go out during the day, to meet friends from school he said. He’d never say who it was if you asked, but you figured it was just Lee Jordan or someone else he had been close friends with. He was physically and emotionally exhausted when he got home. It was like he used up any energy he had to be happy wherever he was during the day, then when he got home, you were left to pick up the pieces when he shattered.

With a savior complex

You were beginning to get burned out. You had finally gotten some time for yourself to meet up with some friends, and they suggested you break up with George. You simply couldn’t do that. It may be slightly exhausting to keep up with him, but you knew the old George was still in there. They kept telling you it seemed like you had a savior complex, and that George was a lost cause. Deep down, you knew you were probably the only one still holding on to the relationship, but you still loved him so much. You wouldn’t know what to do without him, even if you knew it was practically already over.

George had been getting further and further away, figuratively and literally. He was almost never home, and when he was, he was back to barely talking, occasionally giving you one or two word answers. You’d ask him how his day was and he’d reply with just “good” not even bothering to ask about your day. 

You were fed up with how things were, you wanted to know if at least he was back to his joking self around his friends. You knew it was wrong, but you followed him one day. Turns out he had just been going to the Leaky Cauldron, at first you were worried he just spent the day drinking. But, you waited a few minutes and went in, only to see him kiss Angelina Johnson on the cheek. 

Ok, maybe they were just catching up, they were good friends at school, you knew that. But the longer you watched, the more you realized you weren’t watching two friends catching up. You were watching your boyfriend, the man you had spent the last 5 years of your life with, with another girl. Deep down, you knew your relationship was over, it had been for months, you were just dragging it out because you didn’t want it to end yet. But you didn’t want it to end like this. 

You wanted to scream, cry, hit him, do something. You had thrown away the last year of your life, devoting yourself to helping George feel better. You spent long nights rubbing his back, whispering comforting things in his ears as he cried into your chest. YOU did that, not her. How could he do this to you? After everything you’ve been through together, everything you had done for him. He threw it all away. 

You were distraught. You were thinking irrationally, sending yourself into a spiral. You called in sick for work and walked back to your flat in a daze. You needed to think about this. For a few minutes, you contemplated obliviating yourself, maybe if you just forgot you saw it, went about your relationship as it was before this morning, it’d be ok. But you knew that wasn’t the right thing to do. So you did the only other thing you thought you could do, you conjured some boxes and started packing. 

You spent the day packing every last trace of your belongings, you called one of your friends and told her something happened with George. You didn’t give her any specifics because the optimistic, or stupid, side of you was holding on to hope that you were overreacting, maybe you saw wrong. Maybe, this was a big huge misunderstanding and you could unpack your stuff with George when he got home and live happily ever after. But you knew that wasn’t the case, so you told her you’d tell her when you got there. You finished packing the last of your stuff a few minutes before George got home, it was later than usual. You didn’t want to face him, you thought about leaving him a letter, telling him you saw what he did and not to contact you ever again. But you needed to hear it from him.

He walked in and saw the boxes, confused he walked into the living room and saw you sitting on the couch, just staring off into the distance. 

“Y/n darling? Are you alright.” he asked, confused.

“No Georgie, but I will be.” you whispered back, sadly.

“What’s with all the boxes? What happened?” he asked again. It was like you were a ghost, or someone else. You were there but not really, he could see you’d been crying. 

“What did I do wrong Georgie? What could I have done differently?” you asked, you could feel the tears starting again.

“Darling I don’t know what you’re talking about, did something happen at work?” he said, he was worried maybe you got fired.

You scoffed. “No George, nothing happened at work. I have been so worried about you lately, you seemed to be getting worse and worse. Coming home from god knows where, in a mess of tears. Just coming home for me to clean up, then going out again the next day.”

When he didn’t reply you continued, “I have spent the last 5 years of my life with you George. Completely devoted to you, through everything I supported you.” you laughed bitterly, “I spent all day packing today, trying desperately to figure out where I went wrong. What I did to you, what I could’ve done differently, to make you love me enough. But it wasn’t me was it?” 

“What are you talking about dear? Why were you packing.” he replied.

“God George you’re just not seeing it are you?” You looked at him, bewildered. “I saw you. You and Angelina.”

“Oh” he whispered.

“OH! THATS ALL YOU HAVE TO SAY GEORGE? OH?” You shouted, he could feel himself starting to cry now too. 

“I have spent so much of my time cleaning up after you, taking care of you, loving you. I can’t believe I’ve been so stupid. I should’ve known. When you started going out more, I told myself, maybe you were just out with friends, when you came home after a long day with Angelina, using up any happiness that you did have with her, who was there to pick up the pieces? ME!” you yelled. 

“I just can't do it anymore George. We’ve been over for a long time, and I need to let you go now.” you trailed off, the last part coming out in a mix between a whimper and a whisper.

“No, darling please let's talk about this!” he begged.

“What is there to talk about George? I saw you, with my own two eyes.” you replied.

“Please baby it was a mistake. I love you so much, please please don’t leave me.” he was begging you, he needed you.

“I can’t George. I’ve spent so much time caring for you, I need time to care for me. I need to get better too. I just can’t do this anymore, there won’t be anything left of me if I keep giving it all to you.”

He broke down next to you, crying. You stood up, ready to disapparate with your things, but he ran up to you and hugged you.

“Please don’t leave me y/n. I’m so sorry! It was a mistake I love you so much.”

“You need to let me go Georgie, I'm sorry. I need to go.” you whispered, calmly removing his arms from their tight hold around your waist.

You whispered a quiet, final goodbye, before disapparating from his flat and to your friends home, you both needed to move on.

[idreamofplaid]

Just Enough Tease

Square Filled: Panty Kink

Characters: Jensen x Reader

Rating: Explicit

Tags: Oral (female receiving); squirting; dirty talk

Summary: It’s a big night for Jensen in more ways than one.

Word Count: 1515

A/N: Thanks for the idea @dean-winchesters-bacon​! I hope you like what I did with it.

Created for @spnkinkbingo

Everything had been delayed for months because of the virus. Putting life on hold for so long had been frustrating, disappointing, discouraging, and downright depressing at times. When normal activities at long last resumed, the palpable cloud of heaviness that had settled over the world was lifted. Life felt positively festive.

Many things that had been postponed could finally happen. That included the series wrap party. It’d been a long time since you’d seen Jensen this happy, and a happy Jensen was a horny Jensen.

He’d been unable to keep his hands off you all night. The dress you were wearing showed off all your best assets, but you knew it was what was underneath that was driving Jensen crazy. When you’d gotten in the car to leave for the party, you had leaned across the seat and whispered in his ear, “I wore something special for you tonight.” With a satisfied smile, you moved back into your seat and raised your skirt so he could see what was underneath.

When he saw, Jensen’s lips parted ever so slightly. He raised his eyes to meet yours. “You’d do that to me?”

You dropped your skirt back into place. “Absolutely, I would.” You put your hand on his thigh and gave a little squeeze to emphasize your point. 

The thing you were wearing that already had his breath catching in his chest was plain white cotton panties. Over the course of your relationship, you had pushed at every button and pulled at every string to find all of his kinks. This one you had discovered purely by accident. Jensen had walked in on you one afternoon when you were getting ready to go out to lunch with a friend one afternoon. You were thirty minutes late for that lunch.

You gave your fiance a smile as you slowly slid your hand from his leg. “Enjoy yourself tonight, babe. I’m so proud of you. And remember what’s waiting for you later.”

Jensen watched you all night. You knew what he was thinking when he was posing for pictures, when he was cutting the cake, and when he was singing on stage. He couldn’t take his eyes off you the entire time he was singing “Wrecking Ball”. As soon as he sang the last notes, he was off the stage immediately and came to you. He took your hand and started leading you away from the crowd. “Where are we going, Jensen?”

The second he got you out of the main ballroom and into a mostly empty hallway, he pushed you against the wall and started kissing your neck, the scruff of his beard pleasantly scratching your skin. “I need you now, baby. I can’t wait until we get home. I started to get a hard on while I was singing just looking at you.” 

You arched your neck back, enjoying the feel of his lips on your skin. “Do you want to get a room?”

Jensen pulled his earlobe into your ear and nibbled on it. “That’ll take too long.” He took your hand again and led you farther down the hall. When you reached something called The Fern Room, Jensen tried the door. Finding it open, he pulled you into the small conference room behind him.

The door was barely closed before his hand was under your dress. He stroked his fingers over your cotton covered core. “I’m gonna make you so wet for me, baby.”

Jensen pushed your panties aside and swiped his fingers through your folds. He brushed back and forth, teasing at your opening and your clit until you were moaning his name and holding onto his shoulders for support. He finally pushed a finger deep into you, pumped it a few times, then took it out and rubbed it over his lips before sliding it into his own mouth. He closed his eyes and sucked it. “You are delicious, baby girl.”

Things moved quickly then. Jensen put his hands on your waist, moved you toward the conference table, and lifted you up onto it. “Jensen, wait. Does the door lock?”

He looked a little dazed for a second then went to check the door. “Needs a key to lock it.” Jensen grabbed a chair and wedged it beneath the door handle. “That okay?” He took off his jacket and threw it on a chair on his way back across the room.

You put your arms around his neck, brought his mouth back to yours, and wrapped your legs around his waist. That start of an erection he’d mentioned earlier was now raging full on and pressing against you. You reached for his zipper, anxious to release him, to see that part of him you ached to have filling you. His cock sprang free from his dress pants, standing thick next to his stomach and his crisp white shirt. It was your plan to ruin that shirt. 

You reached for his cock, and Jensen put his hand around your wrist to stop you. “No. Not yet, baby girl. I’ve got plans for you first.” He kept you at the edge of the table, and spread your legs open. He pushed your skirt up around your waist then dipped his head down and began to lap at the cotton. The wetter your panties got the easier it was to feel his tongue swiping at your clit.

Jensen continued to suck at it through the thin, wet fabric; and he pushed the thin strip of cotton aside to have better access to your opening. Without warning or hesitation, he pushed two fingers in, and you were ready for him. You moaned and moved your hips to accept what he was giving you. “God, baby, you are so fucking hot.”

He added another finger and started to move them faster. Jensen knew when he talked dirty it made you come shaking, and he was determined you were going to come all over this table. “You thought you could tease me by wearing these innocent white panties. Well, they don’t look innocent on you, sweetheart. They make my dick so hard it feels like it could cut fucking glass.”

He curled his fingers to stroke your g-spot. “You thought you could tease me with them by showing me and not letting me touch, by making me think about them all night. I’m gonna make you pay for that, baby girl. I’m going to make you come until you’re weak.”

Jensen was as good as his word. He made you squirt all over that conference room table before he made you come again with his tongue. The pleased look on his face made you feel like he was more proud of what he could do to you, the way he could make you fall apart, than he was of the part he’d had in making television history. Right now, Jensen Ackles didn’t care he was missing the party that was for him.

He’d almost torn the panties from your body. They were being pushed to their limits, but they were still there, still pushed to the side so Jensen could do whatever he wanted. And he made very clear exactly what it was he wanted to do. “I’m gonna fuck you now, sweetheart, and you’re gonna feel it for days.” 

He thrust into you hard, deep, and fast. It was perfect. When you got close to your orgasm, Jensen covered your mouth with his hand to stifle your scream. When your body clenched around him in wave after wave of pleasure, he shot rope after rope of hot come inside you, filling your womb. 

Jensen collapsed on top of you, and you wrapped your arms around him. You both lay there panting and trying to catch your breath. After a couple of minutes, you said, “We’d better get back; they’re going to miss you.”

Jensen stood and adjusted himself back in his pants. You gave him an appraising look. After all these years, he was still incredibly handsome, even more so than he’d been when you met him. “You’d better put your jacket back on to hide the...um…” 

He grinned as he picked up his discarded jacket and put it back on. You ran your hands over his lapels. You lowered your mouth until it was almost touching his. “There’s one more thing.” You stepped out of your panties and tucked them into his inside jacket pocket. “You should keep these. They’re way too much of a mess for me to wear.” 

Jensen’s eyes followed your hand as you placed your underwear in his jacket and patted his chest over the spot where you’d put them. He cut his eyes to yours. “You want me to carry these around all night?”

You smiled sweetly at him and kissed his cheek. “Oh, I certainly do. I want to know you have them when the president of the network is congratulating you on your rare and outstanding accomplishment.” You kissed him and pulled his bottom lip into your mouth. “That man has no idea just how talented you are.”

Everything: @gambitwinchester @princessmisery666 @onethirstyunicorn @peridottea91 @logical-princey @emilyshurley @beenlovingromansincedayoneish @fangirlxwritesx67 @waywardbaby @atc74 @ledzeppelinsbonzo @shaniquacynthia @mariekoukie6661 @tumbler-tidbits @fandom-princess-forevermore @terrarium-jpeg @emoryhemsworth @crashdevlin @heycasbutt @jules-1999 @mrsdeannafuckingwinchester @cosicas-cuquis @sammyimpala-67 @queenoftheunderdark @dean-winchesters-bacon @mrs-meghan-winchester @timelordy-fangirl2 @sweetness47 @hobby27 @awesomesusiebstuff @kickingitwithkirk @gh0stgurl @becs-bunker @sandlee44 @supernaturalgrandma @lonewolf471 @dawnie1988 @maddiepants @volleyballer519 @outcastedangel @kdfrqqg @lizette50 @daisymoder72 @sorenmarie87 @oldfreakything @winchesterxfamilybusiness @deansotherotherblog

Dean/Jensen: @deansyahtzee @flamencodiva @deanwinchesterswitch @feelmyroarrrr @theychosefamily @focusonspn @akshi8278 @ladywinchester1967 @sgarrett49 @wingedcatninja @coffee-obsessed-writer @adoptdontshoppets @ellewritesfix05​ 

[bigfan-fanfic]

I feel like current DC would want to make Batdad's life a living hell. My opinion, at least. Like, how would Batdad cope with Bruce getting sent into the time-stream? A man has to grieve one way or another, and they depict him as another person that delves into work, I'm going apeshit. I need, quality, grief. Like depressed grief where you can't even get out of bed grief. And what about Jason's death and resurrection, how would a single man be able to handle their child dying by their husband's rival who he refuses to do anything else to disrupt their dance they've made? Dick's unfortunate and traumatic interaction with Tarantula. Tim getting prayed uppon by Ra's. And don't even start with Damian. How is this one man supposed to handle all that shit. DC would make him suffer so much to the point fans aren't even sure what to do besides be angry at the shit their favorite character is going through.

//Sorry for the rant.

Okay, so I can see three ways this can go. We all know how Bruce dives into his work and shuts himself down. So we have Batdad doing the opposite, trying to keep it together for the family, putting on the calm front when all he really wants to do is scream and break down in tears. Oooh, maybe a simple few pages recounting the horrors Batdad has gone through as a parent and the way he can never really show how he feels.  I’m seeing colorful, speechless panels of Batdad comforting others (patting Dick’s back while he cries, talking with Alfred over coffee, bringing Bruce to bed and holding him, voice-conferencing with a crying Barbara, speaking to a Jason who has his fists clenched, rubbing Tim’s shoulders, kneeling and hugging Damian) and then... slowly... the panels lose color. They go pale and faded as we see still silent panels of Batdad alone in the Manor. Going to his room. Locking the door. With one last burst of color in the word “click” of the locking door, and suddenly it’s in black and white, all harsh shadows and stark whites, frightening and jagged. And Batdad breaking into tears and a final insert of him opening his mouth in a silent scream. 

That one, I see people starting to warm up to the idea of Batdad leaving Bruce, because it’s clear that Batdad is keeping so much inside that he doesn’t feel like he can let out. 

Two, Batdad having a stark look at depression and trauma and grief, maybe a conversation late at night with Alfred about how he nearly has a panic attack every night seeing his boys and husband put themselves in danger, and for what? A city that never gets any better, a citizenry that actively hates them? While Bruce throws himself into work, Batdad shuts down and can’t even bring himself to get out of bed. Maybe for the first time we see Batdad angry, yelling at Bruce for doing this to him, to their family... blaming him for Jason’s death. I can even see Jason, still in his angry stage after being brought back to life, coming to hurt Bruce by attacking Batdad and being stunned when Batdad rages right back at him, furious that Jason would try to hurt him, to hurt the family and cause him more pain.

But then again, suffering so much grief and showing that off isn’t always conducive to the enjoyment of readers. Having a realistic response to that kind of intense trauma might run the risk of the vocal minority thinking of Batdad as “whiny” or “pathetic” and then they might even get the writers to kill Batdad off or worse, undermine his whole character by making him become a vigilante. But I mean, any one of these is absolutely devastating to a caring parent but can you imagine having all of those happening and feeling powerless to stop it? Feeling guilty because you never said anything when your husband started training these boys, never saying anything when they were injured... and horrible things KEEP HAPPENING. It’s absolutely awful. Even just considering canon, Batdad would go through an inhuman amount of trauma, and that’s not even thinking about if Bruce and Selina/Talia/Diana/etc. have an affair or the things happening to the Justice League.

So we have a Batdad that is superhuman in his ability to process trauma and grief... or a Batdad who’s even better at compartmentalization than his husband... or is just better at disguising it. But maybe we have a Batdad who does his best to process all this in a healthy way. We give readers the chance to see the character who is arguably one of the most mentally stable in the DCU at therapy. Not only could this reduce the stigma around therapy, it could also give a chance to help people see a real character development, that Batdad is so strong because he knows when to seek out help. I mean, it’d be pretty cool if the entire message of the Batdad character was sort of the opposite of the superhero fantasy - while Batman is kind of the “you can do anything on your own,” Batdad represents the “you can’t do everything alone” and serves to connect and unite people. And he obeys this in every aspect of his life by not feeling the need to keep his trauma inside and instead tries to process it in a healthy way.

If you read this far, let me know what you think? If Batdad was a real character, how do you think he’d be portrayed over the years, ideally?

[hit-me-with-a-ladle]

Ch. 6 Creepypasta x fem!reader

Hey, guys hope you're liking the chapters, now I'm sorry I didn't post the chapter yesterday my computer was malfunctioning and I had to fix it. But now we're all good and I can be more consistent. I also turned my comments on so I hope that you'll tell me what you liked and disliked about the story. But without further ado enjoy<3.

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A week had passed since the girl started training, and she could feel herself improve as the days progressed. Jack, at first, was ruthless towards her, but he calmed down and at least waited for her when she was struggling to walk back to the cabin. She also had a strict workout regiment made by him. He acted as a personal trainer of sorts as she had to use heavy objects as weights and was made to sprint around the forest to build up stamina and muscle to improve her strength. But when the week had ended, so had Jacks' first shift to train her, and now it was Maskys turn.

The cold Monday air hit her face when she woke up. Feel her eyelids becoming heavy she wanted to go back to bed but stopped herself. Jack had warned her that Masky hated tardiness and that he expected her to be ready by 7:30 AM. So the girl had set the red alarm clock that laid on the small desk next to her bed to ring at 6:45 AM. Lazily getting out of bed, she neared the closet, getting a set of clean clothes( Her closet had been updated, with more essential clothes, like underwear and socks). Then headed to the bathroom to take a quick shower.

Slackly scrubbing her body under the look worm pellets of shower water that quickly streamed down her bare body, she remembered her first few interactions with Masky, like when he attacked her that cursed night. She could recall his rude and disrespectful behaviour towards her, and if she was honest, she didn't regret stabbing him in the leg with her kitchen knife. An irate expression then fell upon her face as she cursed him and all the others under her breath. Because of them, she was in this hell hole, she hated it. She just wanted to be home. But she was also mad at herself for not taking more initiative and trying to make an actual escape plan.

' Do I have Stockholm syndrome or something?' She questioned herself as she started to feel her eyes water, but immediately pulled back those tears, not wanting her eye to puffen. She'd already been showering for over fifteen minutes without noticing. Not wanting to waste even more time she got out of the shower and dressed she quickly walked to her room to check the time. She had 15 minutes to eat before her training started.

Running downstairs, she instantly started making something to eat as she turned around and was about to head in the direction of the dining table. And in the heat of the moment, she had harshly bumped into something making her drop the large white plate of food she'd been carrying. A loud bang of porcelain contacting the hard wooden floor rung through her ears as she angrily looked up to see what the hell was in the way. Though her features instantly softened when she realised it was Masky towering over her. His white mask was even creepier up close. It looked old and worn out, it also had some red discolouration on the lower half of it with some minor erring at the sides. His demeanour seemed stiff as a deep growl escaped from his throat.

" Watch where you're going, goddamn it." He spoke as he pushed her aside to pass. " And clean that up right now. I mean Jesus Christ, your so much wasting time, you have less than ten minutes." The girl glared daggers as he spoke. Rage fueled her mind as she wanted to punch him square in the face, although she stopped herself, not wanting to cause any trouble. She just took in a sharp breath, closing her eyes she promptly cleaned up the mess. Hastily making herself some cereal she ate it as quickly as she could.

Masky watched her, however feeling disdain towards her as he did. His leg was still sour from where she had stabbed him, but he planned to get back at her by making the next week they had together a living hell. Staring at the clock, every minute or so he would check it to see what it said, and the moment the arrow hit exactly 7:30, he got up from where he was sitting. " Get the hell up we're going," He roughly grabbed the bowl in front of her and flushed the remaining bit of food down the drain. The girls just pursed her lips as her gaze turned bitter in the mere sight of him. She slowly got up and followed him outside. They were on the same path she took to get to the clearing she and Jack would fight in, but instead of turning left and following the path, he went in the opposite direction.

Confusion washed over her as she follower curiously, still not trusting him fully. " Where are we going?" She promptly asked as they were walking for a while. She could feel him roll his eyes, " Be quiet your voice irritates me." Not having anything else to do she just huffed loudly and followed the masked man she dislike so much with her arms folded over her chest. Her feet kept on hitting the many tree roots scattered around the path as she watched the leaves fall from the trees. Her mind wandered with them, she'd been so stressed this last week that she'd forgotten to enjoy her surroundings and she hand realised just how beautiful the forest truly was. That morning she felt a light breeze graze her soft skin as she looked up to the clear blue sky. The sound of rustling leaves filled her ears as she softly smiled at the beautiful sight of the trees being carried by the wind.

Without noticing that Masky had halted to a stop, she walked into him for the second time that day, he stood like a tree and the hard impact made the girl tumble a bit before regaining her stance. Though the man didn't even seem to notice, she softly grumbled under her breath before walking next to him. As she looked up and got a good look at her surrounding she was dumbfounded. In front of her was scattered some of the most beautiful looking flora in her life. The grass that covered the soil seemed lighter than the one she was standing on, different types of multicoloured flowers strewed in patches all around it and right in the middle, in front of them both, stood an old thick tree. It was remarkably tall, moss laid on its right side and it looked worn out over time. Its long brown branches twisted and turned as golden-green leaves spread all along with them. There was a thin stone pathway leading up to the tree and circling it to give room for someone to walk around.

" What is this place?" She softly spoke as her jaw had dropped from the sensory overload she was experiencing by the gorgeous scenery in front o her. Masky brought up his right hand closing her jaw, " This is going to be your first lesson, how to take care of this area of the forest. It's essentially the heart of it giving it its 'power' pet say, this tree is thousands of years old and you, as a middleman, have the task to not let it die." He said pointing at her as he walked through the stone path and stood in front of the tree, the girl soon following. " How do I take care of it? And what happens if I let it die?" She asked as she looked up at the tree then at him.

" Well, firstly, these flowers have to be watered every few days or they die out, and if they die out, the tree soon will follow after them. Also, the tree has to be checked and graded in 3 stages to make sure it's in the right order. Firstly, if the leaves change colour every season. When in the winter their silver and or blue, In Atom orange and or purple, spring red and or pink and then summer as you can see this type of greenish-gold colour or pure gold colour that has a whole meaning in its self. But ill explain the meaning of the colours later, when we get you a notebook you can write all of this down. But there is a deviation from this pattern the tree is most likely dying for some reason and you have to find out what the reason for that is. Second, if you notice that it starts to have some kind of sweet n=honey like odour then its sap is ready to be harvested and you'll have to harvest every last drop of it. Though this could happen any time there's no real regulation the when it can or can't, the sap is needed for magic. Lastly, You will also have to feed the tree a special oil-based serum that you will learn to make, you can do this around the time you water the plants, but f you see it rejecting it and not absorbing the oil then there's something wrong and you will have to inspect it and see if there's some kind of defect going on to fix. Now to answer your second question, if the tree were to die in your care then you will go through the most excruciating execution of your life." He spoke quickly almost as if he was dictating this to a whole class of people, though the way he announced the last sentence his tone got darker and it sent shivers up the girl's spine.

He put his hands behind his back and began to cercal the tree, the girl trailing close behind. " Now, I want to inform you that this is a type of safe space for you during the day as it prevents any magical creature from going through it. Only humans are allowed. Although, I do have to preface that there's a difference between creatures that descend from, magic and creatures that can do magic. A good example of this rule is Jack and I. He is a creature derived from magic and is not allowed to step through this in the day, and I being a human with the core and basic knowledge of magic, am allowed during the day." He spoke very fast and when he finished he took in a long breath and sighed. The girl listened thoroughly to every word he uttered but something seemed to be troubling her. " You keep on specifying that I can go here during the day. Why is that, does something happen at night?" Her tone was lased in confusion as she stopped to look around the small area.

" Well during the night this place becomes a breeding ground for death, many evil creatures come here to finish off their victims or to spend the night. This place doesn't look remotely similar at night. You'll be as good as done for if you were ever to be so unlucky as to be here untrained and unprepared past twelve. The biggest scum of this forest dwell in the night" The last few words he spoke dragged, his body seemed to tense up as he looked at her with his piercing brown eyes, which were the only thing she could see under his pale mask. "That's why unless it's something urgent do not go out in the forest at night if you're not well trained, do I make myself clear?" His tone was rough but she could tell that there was some level of concern tied within his statement, making her faintly smile.

" The first day ill be a little lenient, as to get you familiarized with the basic layout of the forest which you'll have to memorize." Clearing his throat he smirked as he slowly approached her. " I have the map to this place in my back pocket." He said stopping in front of her as he pulled out a big colourful map of the forest, the girl questioned how he was able to fit that in there. "That's why ill give you till tomorrow to learn it all." The girl's eyes went wide, she was sure he was smiling under his mask and she hated it. " What are you crazy how am I suppos-" She interjected but was soon cut off by the masked man chuckling in amusement, he got closer to her and put one of his gloved hands on her shoulder roughly pulling her towards him as he spoke.

" Well, I'm sorry to say this but there's no negotiation. Now, let's continue with our lesson. I kindly advise paying better attention to what I'm saying to make learning this by tomorrow easier. Because if you don't know let's just say things won't end well for you."