#its a lemon branch

[well-fuuuck]

I got a tattoo ayo

[clorofolle]

Lemons! From my little lemon tree

[rominasaintofthebud]

i am really sad i didnt like playing the somnium files sequel because my fucking god the first game was good. it had its Moments in the fact its both a comedy game (worst trait at times) as well as an extremely fucked murder mystery game but my GOD when it was good it was blowing it out of the park at full force. the villain is a bit cheesily written at times when he starts truly monologuing but he is also kind of a character of all time. the fucking web he weaves.

[lemonade-juley]

As much as I want to use some of the more fun weapons and tools in Helldivers, unfortunately i am Breaker/Shield/Railgun pilled....

[obsessivevoidkitten]

Sweetest Nectar

Yandere Sundew Plant Man x Gender Neutral Luna Moth Fae Reader CW: Noncon, no pain, drugging, aphrodisiac nectar, lured in, bondage, reader done gets violated by the tentacles, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, reader rides that dick like a cowboy, making out, french kissing, general yandere behavior, seed oviposition Word Count: 1.4k (Comm I got late last night. Wrote half before 5am this morning and the rest tonight. The name Lasio comes from the sundew subgenus Lasiocephala. Hope you all enjoy <3)

The only sound you could hear was that of the wind as it whooshed by while you fluttered without a care in the world through the purple sky. Partly cloudy, a nice breeze, no bothersome humans in this realm at all. A lovely summer evening in the realm of the fairies.

You were a luna moth type fairy. Your large pale jade wings and antenna serving as a dead give away. Not that it mattered when you were away from the land of the humans. When you were on Earth you could easily disguise yourself though, so it was never a problem. But here you were totally free to be as nature intended.

You flitted between the great flowers, many as great as trees, collecting various types of nectar to feed on later. You went at this task for a couple hours before deciding to feed on your spoils in a nice clearing near the crystal creek.

After a nice day fluttering all about it was nice to sit down and begin to relax. You sipped from one of your many vials of nectar and enjoyed the birdsong all around you. It was so peaceful here. A true paradise. You tried to spend as much time as possible here, avoiding the human world as much as possible.

With a heavy sigh you willed yourself up and readied yourself to collect more nectar and maybe some pollen for tomorrow. It took much to sustain you. It seemed you were in luck. As the wind shifted, before you even took to the sky, you caught the alluring scent of nectar.

It was the most alluring floral scent you had ever experienced, there was probably quite a lot of fresh high quality nectar. Your antennae were twitching like crazy and even though you had just had a snack you had to wipe away drool from your mouth because you were salivating so intensely.

You leapt up and began flying towards the wondrous aroma at once.

It didn’t take long for you to find it. A long vine with lovely red globules of nectar. You tried to collect one but found that they were quite a bit sticky. Terrifyingly sticky… no matter what you did you couldn’t get free. What’s more you found yourself wrapped in the vine the more you struggled.

Soon you found yourself covered in the sticky goop, its heady aroma practically drowning you. Your head grew dizzy as a heat pooled in your crotch.

Just what was this stuff?

You were stuck for a while longer and found yourself actually grinding into the sticky vine that held you, you knew you should be trying to think of a way to escape… but you were so horny… you needed to cum so bad. It was all you could think about. Your antenna vibrated with agitation at your inability to get yourself off in your current predicament, with your hands held uselessly at your sides.

Once you started to cry it became evident just what mess you had found yourself in exactly.

A man stepped out of the brush. A plant man with long sticky tentacles sprouting from his head and another mass of them branching out from his tail. They were green at the base, transitioned into a lemon yellow, and were tipped with the red globules you found yourself ensnared in.

Due to your drug-like effects of the sap you had been coated in you did not even realize the danger that you were in.

“Ah~ Pl-please help! I need help. Stuck.” You kept fidgeting. You needed to touch yourself so badly!! You couldn’t even put together that this man standing before you was the one who had trapped you in the first place.

“Of course cutie! I’m your new boyfriend, Lasio. And I wouldn’t be a very good boyfriend if I didn’t help you out~”

You did not even question what he had said, you were just too needy by that point.

At Lasio’s whim the sticky nectar became slick and slippery, but before you could get your hands to your aching crotch the vines of his tail wrapped around you tightly and drew you closer. You whimpered due to being denied the use of your hands but it quickly turned into a moan as the tip of one of the vines dipped into your pants and rubbed you thoroughly.

It pressed and massaged your entrance and you cried and begged for more. He was inclined to oblige you. The slippery appendage slid into deeply, coating your insides with the potent fluid that had already made you lose control.

You writhed and squirmed in pure sexual bliss, more stimulated than before.

But Lasio didn’t stop there, he brought your squirming form close and stilled you with a touch, his hands holding your head steady as he kissed you deeply. His tongue slipped past your lips and caressed your tongue before exploring your mouth. It was dripping with the same sweet substance that had covered your body and been deposited into your hole.

You sucked at it eagerly as you moaned softly. You absolutely couldn’t get enough.

When Lasio withdrew his tentacle like vine from you you were ready to cry in protest. It left you so empty and hollow. So needy to be filled up. Then you saw why he had removed himself from you. His cock was fully erect. It was bright yellow with a sweet looking bead of amber nectar dribbling out.

There was nothing you wanted more in this world than to be plowed by your brand new boyfriend. And there was nothing in the world that Lasio wanted more than to sink his cock into you and fill you with his seeds.

Lasio sat down on a soft patch of grass. He grabbed you gently with one of his tails and guided you over to him then pulled you down into his lap.

You understood what he needed and sat down on his cock, your well lubed hole taking him just as perfectly as his cock filled that void in you. You steadied yourself with your hands on his muscular green pecs. Your antenna twitched and lightly touched him as he grabbed your hips in his strong hands.

The sensation was indescribable as you moved yourself up and down on his prick, riding him and doing most of the work in your desperation for release. With a dazed and far away look you stared at him but you weren’t really paying much attention to anything other than the physical sensation of impaling yourself on his dick.

Lasio pulled you close and nipped at your lip gently then pressed his lips against your passionately. Reveling in the feel of your soft lips against his had him almost as intoxicated as you were.

You rode his cock until you were simply too spent to keep moving. You had already cum several mind shattering times by that point but even in your exhaustion you were no less desperate to continue making love with your wonderful partner.

“You’ve done so well for me, let me take over now my sweet moth.”

Lasio, priding himself on being the very best boyfriend ever, would never deprive you of your needs. He grasped your ass firmly and thrust into you over and over. You melted into his chest, body pressed against his with your face nestled comfortably into his neck as he thrust into you. This entire time he hadn’t yet came but he was getting close, his movements gradually became fast and sloppy as he chased his own release.

He grunted and his spasming cock flooded you with more than just semen but also many small literal seeds. The feeling of his dick twitching inside you made you squeal before going limp against him. Finally you felt sated as you wrapped your arms around Lasio and kissed him lovingly.

“Mmm, I bet you’ll grow my seeds just as well as you took my cock~”

Of course you would! You’d happily bear your lover’s children. As many as he needed you to! For once an insectoid fae had tasted of the sundew man’s nectar and then got themselves seeded by him their love for one another would be eternal.

[hedgehog-moss]

I finally planted my garden last week! We had a couple of days of sun which gave me hope, but it's once again raining every day. Thoughts and prayers for my tomato plants, but I couldn't keep everyone in the greenhouse forever, I had to make room for other plants.

(In the fourth picture above you can see what's inside the hügelkultur mound—it's a pile of branches + llama manure + compost + potting soil. One thing I find great about it is how well it retains moisture! Well it's not a problem this year so far but during heat waves I water these plants a lot less than non-mound plants.)

In the greenhouse my seedlings have been struggling due to lack of sun. Impossible to get courgette plants so I had to buy a few from the young couple in town who recently started a plant nursery—they didn't have many either, and I had to share with the mayor who also came looking for courgette plants because slugs devoured all of his.

He must have seen on my face that I thought my plants didn't stand a chance if slugs don't even respect municipal authority, because he kindly advised me to place crowns of bedstraw (see above) around my plants to protect them. I didn't dare to ask "If it works so well why do you have no courgette plants left?" I just said thank you, and then spent an entire evening last week weaving this sticky weed into crowns and whatsapping photos of my art to the mayor, who always replied "More! More! It needs to be thicker! Like a doughnut!"

Meanwhile 1 leek in the greenhouse suddenly grew a lot thicker while the other 3 remained skinny and fearful-looking and I'm not sure why. They share a pot, so maybe it's like vanishing twin syndrome. My bell pepper seeds had the same asynchronous development issue—one pot is just now starting to have timid seedlings while the other (right next to it) already contains a grown-up plant with baby peppers:

By far my happiest greenhouse plants are the potatoes and lettuce. They shot up so fast! I've been eating a lot of lettuce lately but I can't keep up with how quickly they grow in this cold, rainy spring. And I haven't had any slug raids in the greenhouse so that's great.

My greenhouse squash, onions and pickles are still tiny and not worth a photo (harsh, but this post already has too many photos). My strawberries in the aquaponic towers are beautiful despite the lack of sun and I've been getting mini-harvests of 2-3 strawberries a day for two weeks! They're done now, but I started more seeds so maybe I can get a second round at the end of the month.

Three more things:

1. Morille helped a lot as I was planting the garden. She kept an eye on my gardening tools so no one would steal them, and sometimes used them as cheek-scratchers. At one point I put one of my beautiful bedstraw crowns around her neck so she looked like Philip III of Spain in that painting where he wears a big ruff, but tragically she ran away in outrage before I could take a picture, and when she returned she'd got rid of her collar.

2. At the cow parade the other day there was a lady at the market who sold jars of homemade pesto sauce made from all kinds of different plants, and it opened up my mind to entirely new pesto horizons!! I always make the traditional kind with basil, but I have plants that grow much faster than basil, like my rocket, so I tried making pesto with 1/3 basil 2/3 rocket (plus garlic, olive oil, parmesan, cashews) and it was so good! I have to explore all of her recipes now, like plantain or nettle or sage pesto...

3. There's a monster in the greenhouse. It appeared practically overnight and is quickly claiming more and more territory. Unlike last year it's not a parsley monster—it's my lemon balm. One day it was growing in its vertical tower, luxuriant but tidy, like a normal plant, and the next it had quintupled in volume and was threatening to swallow the nearest planter. Look at the tiny tomato plants, they look terrified of it!

I urgently need to fight back against this giant mélisse (as we call lemon balm) but I've been really busy and I keep putting it off, and then remembering anxiously at 11pm that I still have this creature to take care of, which is ironic seeing as lemon balm is supposed to relieve stress and anxiety. This is the exact opposite of why I planted you. Anyway if you never hear from me again after this post it's because I finally engaged in battle against this year's vegetal menace, and lost.

[magnetothemagnificent]

Not "shake a lemon angrily at G-d" week, but rather;

Gather a citron, an ancient fruit predating the cultivation of lemon. Notice how it has a wonderful aroma, and consider how its flesh is edible. This represents the Jew who is both learned in Judaism and who exhibits kindness and good deeds.

Now gather the closed frond at the center of a palm tree. Consider how sweet the dates of the palm taste, but how the frond exhibits no strong smell like the citron. This represents the Jew who is learned in Judaism, but who does not practice the compassion in the many texts they studied.

Now gather at least three branches from a myrtle bush. Take in the refreshing scent oozing from the branches' thick leaves, but see how it does not bear fruit. This represents the Jew who is not learned in Judaism, but whose good character and actions are exceptional.

Finally, gather two branches from the somber willow. While mighty and enveloping, the willow exhibits no strong aroma, nor does it produce fruit. This represents the Jew who is neither learned in Judaism nor kind in character and deeds.

Appreciate the various textures and shapes of these four species. Feel the weight of them in your hand. Value how different in so many aspects each of them are.

Take them all in your hands, and bind them together like an embrace. Point them in all the corners of the earth- South, North, East, heavenward, downward, and West. Think of all your Jewish brethren scattered around the world, and bring your precious bundle back to your heart with every direction you send it to. Contemplate the place of every Jew in your community, the Etrog, the Lulav, the Hadas, and the Arava, for they all belong.

This is the meaning of Sukkot: coming back to our roots and our bare essence. Erect a temporary dwelling in reminiscence of your wandering ancestors. Come together under the stars, as exposed and unguarded as when we first walked the earth. Welcome guests into your makeshift home, be they family, friends, or the spirits of founding ancestors passed. Surround yourself in your community- and bring it all back to your heart.

[hezzabeth]

There was someone singing in the greenhouse, someone with a pitch-perfect deep voice. Revati closed her eyes, pressing her ear against the glass door.

In a field where the paper daisies grow,

Underneath the sun's harsh glow,

I wander through, light and free.

Paper daisies, pink and white,

Your petals so bright.

I sing to you as the world beyond burns.

The smoke coils in the sky far above,

But your petals still dance around me.

Don’t be afraid; soon the rains will come.

Everything lost will grow again.

Paper daisies, pink and white,

Your petals so bright.

I sing to you as the world beyond burns.

The stars begin to rise,

My hands scooping your seeds.

Soon you will take flight

Towards the soft moonlight.

There was an old, prop piano in the abandoned Holly Bush Tavern. The only person who could play it properly was Mr. Gupta. During holiday festivals, he would coax melodies out of the sticky keys while Mrs. Gupta sang in a nasal voice. This was different. The singer’s voice filled Revati in a place she didn’t know was empty. The singing stopped abruptly as Revati’s weight caused the door to creak. Of course, the door creaked. The greenhouse was a wobbling claptrap box made out of welded-together old windows. Miss Grassroots, a tourist who had been dead for almost six years, had built it. Inside lay the heart of Baker Street. The heart had begun as a rose garden. Nanni was the one who began picking up the fallen red petals, drying them, and turning them into tea.

Revati only had vague memories of the first day of the invasion. Mrs. Grasston and Dusk had invaded the kitchens and gift shops. Together they managed to pool together seeds and cuttings in order to grow a small food supply. There was a wall of tomato vines, grown from several seeds found in old slices left in the bin. There were the garden beds where the potatoes and carrots grew. In fact, the potatoes were what kept Baker Street from starving to death. Next to one of the largest windows, the herb and weed boxes grew. Revati’s father was the one who ripped open gourmet tea bags in their home, discovering dried seeds inside. Bridgadeiro Bun was sitting under the lemon tree. “You’re a pretty good singer,” Revati said gruffly. “I was just trying to cheer up Deshia; she’s been feeling a bit depressed lately,” Bridgadeiro said, patting the tree's trunk. “Who’s Deshia?” Revati asked, faintly confused. “The lemon tree, of course! She said nobody's chatted with her for years,” Bridgadeiro said. Suddenly, the tree shook its branches, causing a fresh lemon to fall into Bridgadeiro’s lap. “Thank you for the gift, sweetheart,” Bridgadeiro said, patting the tree again. Revati stared at the lemon tree, not quite sure what to think. Could a tree really be depressed? It would explain why the lemons were so withered and small.

“All Buns speak plant; it's the same gene that causes our pink hair," he said. Revati glanced around, her eyes briefly falling on the giant pumpkin vine near the door.

"Are the plants talking right now?" Revati asked curiously.

"Most of them fell asleep hours ago. When they were awake, they just kept jabbering on about a golden lady," Bridgadeiro remarked.

"So, the lemon tree is depressed? I could get Aurora to come in here and read to her," Revati conceded.

"It's more than that. She misses the lady who planted her; she doesn't understand why she vanished and never came back," Bridgadeiro remarked. Revati found her hands stroking the book of fairy tales nervously.

"If she's talking about Mrs. Grassroots, she died," Revati replied flatly. Six years ago. Six years ago, there were over a hundred tourists living on Baker Street. Nanni, who had spent years living with mother, insisted on moving into an abandoned hat shop near the edge of the park.

The day the tornado hit was the same day Nanni decided to tell Revati all about her family history.

"I always carry the death stone in my handbag, along with everything else I'd ever need in an invasion," Nanni pointed out. Technically that was true; Nanni's giant handbag was filled with almost anything.

Outside, Revati could hear her father trying to roll down metal shutters. There was the sudden horrible roar, and Nanni's wall exploded in a cloud of rubble.

"A lot of people died," Revati finished, her voice trailing off. First came the tornado that caused a gap in the mirror walls. Then the trickle of automatic vegetable cleaners who decided to exploit the crack. Finally, the battle on Mansfield Park between the cleaners and a group of tourists.

"The lady that planted this tree was actually a member of the Lost Princess rebel army; she convinced a bunch of tourists to fight with her," Revati remarked, shaking her head. Then she firmly opened the book of fairy tales.

"It looks like some people survived," Bridgadeiro replied.

"I don't want to talk about it; I just want to read! Here, you can read with me; you might like this story," Revati replied.

Once long ago, in a lost village near the foot of Mount Raya, there lived a special little girl. She was known for her kindness and her deep love for nature. Everyone in the village called her Naisha. Naisha had a special gift; she could talk to plants. The villagers often saw her whispering to the flowers; they adored her magical gift.

One day, Naisha learned about a legendary tree called the Kalpavriksha. The old ladies in the village whispered that it had the ability to grant any wish. Drought, fearsome and terrible, had swept through the land. Flowers withered, no longer able to whisper. Trees forgot their songs. Naisha decided she must seek out the tree and wish for one thing alone: rain.

"Wake up," a voice screeched, and Revati's eyes snapped open, the book of fairy tales tumbling onto the ground. Aurora was standing above her, the bright morning sunlight making her hair glow.

"Morning," Revati yawned and then jumped when she realized Bridgadeiro was asleep next to her.

Bridgadeiro slowly awoke, smacking his lips together.

"Juniper said you were in here; she never mentioned the boy," Aurora remarked coldly as Revati slowly stood up.

"Anna made him sleep in here; I must have passed out while reading," Revati said.

It was then that Revati realized Aurora was holding a tray filled with fresh strawberries.

"Hmph," Aurora said, shooting Bridgadeiro a suspicious look as he also stood up, patting the tree trunk.

"Let me guess, Queen Victoria sent these with an apology?" Revati asked.

"Yes, and a request to fill her vodka order," Aurora said, placing the tray on the ground.

"If she was really sorry, she'd give us a strawberry plant," Revati pointed out.

"Oh, you don't need one of those! You have the fruit," Bridgadeiro remarked.

"You can't just shove a strawberry in the ground and hope for the best; it rots," Revati replied. Bridgadeiro merely leaned down, examining the strawberries. After a few moments of careful examination, he picked up the biggest, brightest berry.

"You can; you just need the right formula," he said. He vaguely walked towards one of the empty garden beds that was going to be turned into an onion patch. Carefully, he dug a small hole and placed the strawberry inside before covering it in earth. Then, he reached into his massive jumpsuit pocket and this time pulled out a small vial of portable perfume.

"One pump should do it," Bridgadeiro remarked before pumping a cloud of perfume onto the soil. The earth began to twitch and vibrate, and Revati gasped as greenery sprouted from the soil. The plants quivered and then twisted as white flowers bloomed. The petals then shriveled and fell off as the center of the flowers grew into green berries. A few seconds later, the berries blossomed into a deep red.

"They shouldn't be doing that! Strawberries take two weeks to grow," Aurora gasped.

"I suppose they would in the wild, but I just gave them a pump of my Gene Grow fusion serum!" Bridgadeiro said, leaning down to examine the strawberries.

"They should produce fruit every day, but only if you talk to them nicely," Bridgadeiro added as he picked a strawberry and handed it to Revati.

Revati sniffed it suspiciously before taking a tiny bite. It tasted just like a strawberry.

"Does that stuff work on all plants?" Revati asked curiously.

"It tends to go a bit haywire when you spray it on legumes; you end up with giant beans that have no nutrients," Bridgadeiro said.

"I saved your life; think it's only fair you spray all the plants in here," Revati said firmly.

"It would be better if I planted their seeds outside and created new crops; otherwise, the rapidly growing plants could burst outside the walls," Bridgadeiro replied. Revati nodded crisply.

"I'll be sending someone to check on your efforts later today; I'll be far too busy working," Revati replied with as much dignity as she could muster in a sleep shirt before marching out of the greenhouse. The book of fairy tales lay abandoned on the ground.

Revati carefully changed into her work uniform. When she was a child, her wardrobe consisted of souvenir t-shirts from the gift shop fashioned into dresses. Now that she was almost an adult, Revati had to get creative.

Most of the gift shop sweatshirts had been swiped long ago. Instead, Revati put on the top half of the cafe's old uniform. It consisted of a magenta and purple striped waistcoat with a navy blue blouse covered in tiny clocks. The bottom half should have been a matching bustle skirt. Revati switched it with the men's purple trousers. Revati then carefully redid her braid and applied some more soot lipstick. Aurora, still wearing the same clothes from yesterday, was waiting for her in the kitchen.

"You're wearing your second best outfit," Aurora remarked.

"I suppose I am," Revati replied as she grabbed her coat.

"I thought you said you were done with romance after that whole mess with Little Hardi last summer," Aurora said, and Revati stopped walking.

"I am!" she protested, and Aurora pressed her thin lips into a disapproving frown.

"You were sleeping with him."

"God forbid I fall asleep next to another human being," Revati said as she marched through the cafe past Nanni, who was sewing something.

"You kept him! You gave him a job," Aurora added knowingly.

"I didn't keep him! He's not a feral child; he can leave whenever he wants," Revati snapped as they stepped outside, and she put on her sunglasses. Olde Landon was always at its worst in the morning. Like all major tourist attractions and cities, Old Landon had an atmospheric blanket high above the park's surface. It meant that nobody in the park froze to death at night, but it also meant the morning light was far too bright.

"Is that Little Hardi and Queen Victoria standing next to the fountain?" Revati sighed wearily.

"They both arrived at sunrise; I told them you were busy, so your mother made them breakfast," Aurora remarked.

"Sunrise; of course, they sacrificed sleep so they could get here first," Revati remarked, marching towards the two other leaders. Queen Victoria was wearing one of the park's costumes, a stained white lace wedding dress. Little Hardi, on the other hand, was wearing a deep blue doublet with a ruff collar and matching tights.

"Little Hardi, is your brother still unconscious?" Revati greeted him.

"We took a vote last night, and he played Macduff," Little Hardi replied.

Revati, who knew fully well what that meant, had to stop herself from flinching.

"You killed him? That's a little harsh," Revati pointed out.

"It was for the best; we need a strong leader during a time of invasion," Little Hardi remarked practically.

"Time of invasion? Isn't that a little dramatic?" Revati had to ask.

"There must be another crack in the wall; thank Jane, it's probably not too big! You two would be far too young to remember the vegetable cleaner invasion," remarked Queen Victoria.

"I was twelve," Revati said dryly.

"I was fourteen; the tornado destroyed the Hamlet's haunted castle ride, and the appliances killed the actor playing Ophelia," Little Hardi pointed out.

"You're both still tiny children as far as I'm concerned; I can't believe this is who I have to work with," Queen Victoria replied, and Revati brushed past her with annoyance, heading to the dress shop across the street.

The shelves of the dress shop had long ago been stripped bare. All that remained were the three Penny Farthing Bicycles that had been part of the shop's window display. Revati wheeled her Penny Farthing outside only to see Queen Victoria having a heated discussion with Aurora.

"What do you mean she's going to ride to the wall by herself? All representatives from all towns should go!" Queen Victoria was screeching, slapping Aurora's shoulder with her fan.

Revati parked her bicycle and marched towards Queen Victoria, grabbing her hand.

"Slap my assistant again, and I'll break your fingers; you know I can do it," Revati growled.

Little Hardi, who was now sitting by the fountain, laughed.

"I was just speaking the truth! We have a treaty; during times of crisis, we unify," Queen Victoria said, her voice tight and a little frightened.

"I don't see Lady Morganna here," Revati pointed out, referring to the ruler of Medieval faire.

"You know perfectly well Medieval faire cut us all off after the tornado hit! They probably all died off years ago," Queen Victoria snapped back. Queen Victoria was right. Medieval faire was located in the center of a massive fake castle complete with a drawbridge. After the invasion, Lady Morganna had yanked up the bridge and refused to speak to anyone. Anna and Nanni had tried to visit several times with baskets of dried lemons. They were horrified when someone from above threw the contents of their toilets onto the streets.

"My new friend said he saw naked people in the wilderness dancing around a murdered television! Sounds like Lady Morganna to me," Revati merely replied, pointing to Bridgadeiro. Bridgadeiro, who was in the middle of taking several pumpkins out of the greenhouse, waved.

"Could be a coincidence; regardless, you are not going to the wall! We need to have a proper group committee meeting first! Then a vote," Queen Victoria's.

Revati just rolled her eyes and released Queen Victoria's hand, causing her to stumble and fall onto the floor. Revati then reached into her jacket, pulling out her stun gun, shoving it into the queen's stomach. The Queen made a faint whimpering sound as her eyes rolled backward, and she collapsed again. Revati then aimed the gun at Little Hardi, who held his hands up, protesting.

"I'm not going to stop you! I came here to propose marriage," Little Hardi insisted.

"Marriage? To me?" Revati asked dubiously.

"All kings need a consort, and I'm not interested in Big Hardi's husband," Little Hardi said, slowly getting down on one knee.

Revati stared at him and shook her head.

"I'm seventeen," Revati pointed out.

"Well, the wedding wouldn't be for another couple of years," Little Hardi replied.

"I thought we agreed to keep our relationship professional after the handkerchief incident," Revati pointed out, and Little Hardi held a hand to his heart.

"I told you dozens of times I had nothing to do with my brother's plot," Little Hardi insisted.

"He accused me of cheating on you using an old prop handkerchief as evidence, and you believed him despite it being the exact same plot of the play Othello," Revati pointed out. The entire incident occurred over a year ago and ended with Revati kidnapped and tied up on the stage in a white fluffy nightgown.

"I'm a very insecure person," Little Hardi pleaded. Dating while trapped in a fun park during the apocalypse was difficult. Before the feral children came along, Revati was the youngest person on Baker Street. All the teenagers in Whistleton were raised to be incredibly prissy. Most of them refused to do anything more than dance or hold hands. Little Hardi had been a fun, age-appropriate choice. Little Hardi was happy to do far more than hold hands.

"No," Revati said firmly.

"No? Really?" he asked, sounding faintly surprised.

"First of all, your legal system involves killing criminals on stage in the middle of plays, which is horrifying," Revati pointed out, and Little Hardi shrugged.

"Secondly, I'm not an idiot! You just want to marry me so you can take over our greenhouse," Revati pointed out, and Little Hardi gasped as if looking deeply insulted.

"That's not true! If hairs be wires, black wires grow on her head. I have seen roses damasked, red and white, but no such roses see I in her cheeks," Little Hardi pleaded as Revati climbed onto the penny farthing.

[communicationthroughlyrics]

I Work Too Hard, Can You Fuckin' Pay Me?

Part 1 - Y/N moved to escape some of thier looming troubles from Westview, to the place that their best friend said would make a difference. New job, new digs, will Y/N make a change for the better, or leave another city with thier tail between thier legs?

A/N: Mini Series, I guess. Intersex reader, looking for a new life. Smut, Angst, all the fun things. Enjoy!

Word Count: 4.7K

Come Get Your Fix, Just Whisper It

The sun beat its way through the cracked windshield of the rental truck as you sighed deeply. Your tanned, inked shoulders pushed back against the scratchy fabric of the seat below, the dull crackle of a shitty radio echoing through the cab as the monotonous click of the blinker indicated your intention. The exit sign for 'Foxwood' blurred into view, its faded letters promising escape from the mind-numbing highway.

You hated moving, you really did. But there was something about Foxwood that called to you, something that felt like home, even though you had never set foot in the place before. The GPS instructed you to turn left onto a narrow, paved road, flanked by tall, ancient oaks that stretched out their branches like welcoming arms.

This purchase was made sight unseen, knowing you had to find something quickly before you began your new job. You had done the whole apartment thing and couldn't do it again. So the moment this house popped up for sale, your agent called, and you bought it blindly, knowing you needed it. You had high hopes for the place, something that would hopefully bring a smile to your face, something that could make you feel alive again.

As you followed the winding road, you caught glimpses of quaint, well-kept houses with flowers blooming in their front gardens. The occasional rustle of leaves whispered secrets as you drove deeper into the town. The quiet was eerie but also comforting, like a gentle hush that promised peace and privacy. You knew you weren't far, your friend was up ahead leaning against his car, waiting for your arrival. As you approached the home, you took in your surroundings more carefully. A few neighbors watched as your brakes squealed, signaling that you had come to a stop in the driveway of your new home.

Some children were walking down the street, backpacks in tote, indicating that school had let out a little bit ago. They were laughing and giggling, as they one by one peeled off of thier group and made thier respective way home. The sound of their laughter was like a breath of fresh air, and it made you feel a bit less anxious about the whole situation. The house was a charming two-story Craftsman, painted a soft shade of grey with brown trim. The porch looked welcoming, with a swing that swayed slightly in the breeze. The yard was a little overgrown, but you could see the potential it had to be a lush, green paradise.

As you climbed out of the truck, the heat of the day slapped you in the face like a wet towel. You wiped the sweat from your forehead with the back of your hand and walked over to where your friend, Pietro, was standing. He was taller than you remembered, his hair had grown out into a messy mop, and there was a new confidence in his stance. His grin was the same though, wide and welcoming, as he threw his arms around you in a bear hug. "You made it," he exclaimed, slapping you on the back. "Come on, let's get you settled in."

You followed him inside, the coolness of the house a relief after the sweltering heat outside. The interior was surprisingly bright, with sunlight streaming in through the large windows and bouncing off the gleaming hardwood floors. There was a faint scent of lemon in the air, hinting at recent cleaning efforts. Pietro led you to the kitchen, where a woman was unloading a box of dishes and glasses.

"Hope you don't mind, but I asked sis to help," Pietro said as you both walked into the room. She was stunning, with her hair pulled back in a messy bun and a sprinkle of freckles across her nose. She looked up and offered a warm smile that made your heart skip a beat.

"Welcome to Foxwood," she said, extending a hand. "I'm Wanda, your new neighbor and occasional pain in the ass." You took her hand, feeling the electricity between you. Her grip was firm, her eyes a piercing green that seemed to see right through you as they ran up and down your body.

"Thanks," you managed to reply, trying to play it cool despite the sudden surge of butterflies in your stomach. "I'm Y/N. I guess I'll be the new girl in town." You sent her a dashing smile before Pietro interrupted.

"Wands moved before I was able to introduce you two when we were in high school. Too quick to get the fuck out of Westview," he laughed, coming behind his sister and draping an arm around her shoulders. Wanda rolled her eyes playfully and shrugged his arm off.

"I don't blame her," you laugh, catching her glance back over at you. "Westview is a shithole."

Wanda arched an eyebrow, a smirk playing at the corner of her lips. "Tell me something I don't know," she said, her voice light and teasing.

"Well, Wands," Pietro started, a knowing smirk on his face. "This one seemed to run every woman or daughter out of town. She's always been a little bit of a player."

Her eyes narrowed slightly, the playfulness replaced with curiosity. "Is that so?" she said, leaning against the counter. "And what brings you to Foxwood, dare I ask?"

You cleared your throat, trying to find the right words. "A new job," you replied, your voice a bit too high-pitched for your liking. "And a chance to get away from all that drama. Start fresh."

Wanda nodded, studying you with those piercing eyes. "Well, I'm sure you'll fit right in here. Everyone loves a good redemption story," she said, a hint of amusement in her tone. "And if you need anything, I'm just next door. Now, if you don't mind, I need to head home and get ready for dinner with Agatha." she turned, hugging Pietro before throwing the towel on her shoulder into the sink.

Pietro rolled his eyes. "That old hag?" he teased, earning a playful elbow from his sister.

"She's younger than me, Piet. If that is what you think of her, I would hate to know what you think of little old me."

Pietro's cheeks flushed red, but he chuckled it off, slapping his sister on the shoulder. "Wands, you know I didn't mean it like that. I love you, I'm morally obligated to." he laughed, shying away as she punched him in the chest.

"Ass!" she smirked, turning to you. "Y/N, it was a pleasure, albeit a brief one. I'm just next door if you need any help."

Her eyes lingered on you for a moment longer than necessary, leaving you with a strange mix of excitement and nerves. You nodded. "Thanks, Wanda. I'll keep that in mind." You flashed her another smile, moving out of her way so she could walk away from you and Pietro, and you watched as she left.

"No, Y/N. Just...No." Piet's voice cut through the air as you watched her leave. "Don't mess with Wanda," he warned, his eyes serious. "She's had enough bullshit in her life without you bringing your Westview drama here."

You shrugged, trying to play it off. "I'm not planning on messing with anyone, Pete," you said, grabbing a bottle of water from the fridge. "Just here to work and keep my head down." But as you took a sip, you couldn't help but feel the weight of his words. You had a history, and it wasn't exactly squeaky clean.

The rest of the day was spent unpacking boxes and getting the house in order. The place had good bones, but it was clear that the previous owners hadn't put much effort into the upkeep. There were cobwebs in the corners and a layer of dust that had to be thick enough to write your name in. But every time you looked outside and saw the picturesque street, you felt a flicker of hope that this could be your fresh start. Pietro helped you move everything that was left in the truck inside and took it back for you before he went home for the night.

As the sun dipped below the horizon, painting the sky with a warm orange glow, you finally finished setting up the living room. You flopped onto the couch, letting out a sigh of relief that was quickly interrupted by the sound of a knock on the door. It was Wanda, dressed in a simple sundress that made her look like she'd just stepped out of a magazine. Her eyes ran up and down your exhausted, sweaty frame, you were in just a pair of sweatpants and a tank top. Once she made eye contact with you again, she smiled. "Hey, I hope I'm not interrupting," she said, holding up a tray of food. "I figured you'd be too tired to cook."

Her smile was infectious, and before you knew it, you were inviting her inside. The tray was filled with a mouthwatering assortment of dishes that smelled heavenly—roast chicken, garlic mashed potatoes, and steamed vegetables. "Wow, this is amazing," you said, your stomach rumbling. "Thank you so much."

Wanda waved off your gratitude with a casual flick of her wrist. "It's the least I could do," she said, setting the tray down on the kitchen counter. "I know moving can be a real bitch."

You couldn't help but feel a little self-conscious in her presence. She had an air of confidence that you hadn't seen in a long time, something you had lost amidst the parties and one-night stands back in Westview. You tried to ignore the way your heart fluttered every time she was near, telling yourself that this was just friendship, and Pietro's older sister- nothing more. But as you watched her unpack the Tupperware containers, her slender fingers moving with purpose, you found it harder and harder to keep that thought in your head.

"Here you go," she set everything out, all you had to do was serve yourself. "You can bring me the containers whenever," she said, before heading back to the door. "Have a good night." she winked before turning to walk out the door.

"Thank you," you called after her, watching as she stepped back into the warm embrace of the evening. The door clicked shut, leaving you with the tantalizing smell of the food and a sudden feeling of loneliness.

You filled a plate, the aroma making your mouth water as you took a bite of the chicken. It was tender and perfectly seasoned, the taste exploding on your tongue. You had to admit, that Wanda had skills in the kitchen. You took your dinner to the porch, the swing groaning under your weight as you sat down. The evening air was cooler now, and the street was silent except for the occasional distant laughter of children playing in the twilight. With the slight breeze that was cooling everything off, you decided to open some windows, and allow the house to air out some.

As you sat there, you couldn't shake the feeling that Wanda had left you with. You had never felt so...seen by someone before. It was as if she knew all your secrets just by looking at you. But you weren't about to let that ruin your first night in your new home. You had a job to start in the morning, and you needed to be well-rested. So, you finished your meal and decided to rest, getting yourself ready for bed.

The night passed quickly, and before you knew it, the sun was peeking through the windows, signaling the start of a new day. You dragged yourself out of bed and into the shower, the hot water doing little to wash away the last of your weariness. As you toweled off, you caught a glimpse of yourself in the mirror. The person staring back at you looked like a stranger—tired eyes and a rumpled expression that told a story of a life lived hard and fast. You vowed to change that, starting now.

You threw on some clean clothes and headed downstairs, the aroma of fresh coffee wafting from the kitchen. The house was eerily quiet without the clamor of boxes and the banter with Pietro. Thankful that you remembered to set the timer to the coffee pot, you opened the cabinets until you found the one that your coffee mugs had been put into. You poured a glass of the liquid, putting just a hint of sugar in it and taking a swig.

As you sipped, you glanced out the kitchen window to see Wanda's car parked in her driveway. A part of you was relieved she was home; the thought of seeing her again made your heart race. Another part was nervous. You didn't want to give her any reason to think that you were the same old you. You were here for a new start, after all. You stacked up the now clean containers that she had brought you dinner in and neatly put them in a bag before getting yourself ready for work.

You stepped out of the house, the cool morning air kissing your cheeks and making you feel alive. You walked over to Wanda's house, the bag of containers swinging at your side. As you approached the door, you took a deep breath, trying to calm the nerves that had suddenly taken over your body. You knocked, the sound echoing through the quiet street.

The door swung open, and there she was, dressed in a pair of jeans and a loose-fitting shirt that still managed to hug her curves in all the right places. Her hair was down today, cascading over her shoulders in gentle waves. She looked surprised to see you but quickly composed herself. "Morning," she said, her voice a little raspy from sleep.

"Sorry, I know it's early. I wanted to give these back before I forgot." You handed her the bag of containers, trying not to stare at the way the morning light kissed her skin.

Wanda took the bag, a small smile playing on her lips. "No worries, I'm usually up early. I appreciate it." She stepped aside, gesturing for you to come in. "Would you like some coffee?"

You shook your head, gesturing to the cup sitting on top of your car. "No, thank you though, and dinner was delicious."

Wanda nodded, her eyes lingering on you for a moment too long before she turned away to set the bag by what you assumed was the entrance to her kitchen. "You're more than welcome, Y/N. Pietro said you're starting work today?"

"Yeah, I am," you replied, your eyes following her as she walked inside and then came back to the door.

"I guess I should have guessed," she insinuated, motioning to the suit you were now wearing. "What do you do, again?"

You took a deep breath, your nerves starting to rise in front of this ethereal woman. "I'm an architect," you said proudly. "Starting at the new firm downtown."

Wanda's eyes lit up with interest. "Oh, really?" she leaned against the doorframe. "That's cool."

"Thanks," you said, feeling a bit more at ease. "I'm hoping to make a name for myself here, maybe even start my own firm one day."

Wanda nodded, her eyes thoughtful. "Well, Foxwood's definitely growing. Could use some fresh designs to spruce the place up," she said with a smile.

You nod, looking down at your watch, realizing you were really cutting it close. "I should get going, I don't want to be late on my first day," you said, taking a step back. "Thank you, Wanda." you smile, stepping backward as you walk toward your car.

"Good luck," she called after you, her voice soothing and genuine. You smiled, before turning around to walk the rest of the way to your waiting Audi. You grabbed the coffee off the roof, settling yourself inside. As you drove off to work, you couldn't help but think back to your brief interactions with Wanda. You had only seen her in pictures, and she certainly grew into her looks.

The office was bustling when you arrived, and the air was thick with the scent of ambition and freshly brewed coffee. You were greeted by your new boss, Mr. Castillo, a man with a firm handshake and a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. He walked you around, introducing you to the team. Each person you met offered a polite nod and a murmur of welcome, but you could feel the underlying curiosity—who was this new face that had strutted into their well-established dynamic?

The first few days were a blur of paperwork, meetings, and getting acquainted with the projects you'd be working on. You threw yourself into your work, eager to prove that you weren't just a pretty face from Westview. You had skills, and you were here to use them. You found yourself working late, working out, eating small meals, and sleeping. It was this same schedule, on repeat. Before you knew it, Friday was upon you, and Pietro was calling.

"Come out with me tonight," he begged. "You've been holed up in that house and that office all week. You need to live a little. Explore."

"Hello to you too, Piet." You chuckled into the phone, leaning back in your chair at the office. The clock on the wall ticked away the final moments of the workday. "But I'm pretty beat. I don't know if I'm up for a night out."

"Come on, it'll be fun," he said, his voice full of excitement. "I've got a surprise for you."

You hesitated, the thought of a surprise from Pietro sending a shiver down your spine. His ideas of fun tended to land you in trouble. "What's the surprise?"

"That defeats the whole point, Y/N. It wouldn't be a surprise if you knew what it was." His laugh was contagious, and despite your exhaustion, you found yourself smiling. "But I promise, it's nothing crazy."

You sighed, knowing that 'not crazy' for Pietro was still a relative term. But his enthusiasm was infectious, and the thought of letting loose after a week of intense focus was tempting. "Alright, fine," you conceded. "Where and when?"

The whoop of excitement on the other end of the line had you shaking your head. "I'll text you the details!" he yelled before hanging up, knowing you would change your mind if given the chance.

The day dragged on, but the anticipation of the night ahead kept you going. When you finally clocked out, you drove home with a mix of excitement and dread. You knew that going out with Pietro meant you would be meeting new people, and while you weren't necessarily a hermit, you were trying to turn a new page. You threw your coat onto the bench by the door, before stalking upstairs to your room. You sat down on the edge of your bed, peeling your dress shoes off your feet before undoing your tie. As you began to undress, you caught a glimpse of the woman next door. The elder Maximoff, lounged by the pool in her backyard, reading a book in a bikini.

The sight made your thoughts run wild, and your mouth went dry. You tried to shake it off, but the image of Wanda in that bikini was burned into your mind. You decided you needed to hop in the shower, so you quickly turned to get undressed and threw your work shirts into the laundry bin that would soon go to the dry cleaners.

As the hot water cascaded down your body, you couldn't help but replay the moments you had already with Wanda. You felt a stirring in your chest that was unfamiliar, a mix of attraction and something deeper. But you pushed it aside, focusing on the task at hand. You had a night out to get ready for, and you needed to be on your best behavior. You couldn't have any distractions, especially not from your best friend's sister.

After a quick shower and a change into a black deep-cut tee, black jeans, and a leather jacket, you checked your phone to find the details of the night's plans. "Meet me at The Den at 8," the text from Pietro read. You had just enough time to grab a bite to eat and mentally prepare yourself. You grabbed a granola bar from your snack cabinet and chugged a bottle of water, looking out the back window as you ate the aforementioned snack.

Deciding you would take the bike out instead, you put your helmet on before starting your blacked-out Harley. You smiled at the feel of the familiar rumble between your legs, and made your way out of the garage, propping it up on the kickstand before walking back to shut the garage door.

"Be careful, Y/N," Wanda called out from her porch as you climbed onto your bike. She had changed into a short, floral dress that highlighted her toned legs and a pair of sandals that made you wonder if she had ever worn shoes that weren't designer. You nodded, giving her a subtle salute as you accelerated down the street past her house.

The sun had already set by the time you pulled into the crowded parking lot of 'The Den', a popular local hangout spot. The music thumped in the distance, a bass that you could feel in your chest. The anticipation grew as you stepped off of the bike, straightening your jacket and running a hand through your hair. It had been a while since you'd been out, and the idea of a night free from the constraints of your new life was exhilarating.

Inside, the air was thick with the scent of spilled drinks and cheap perfume. The lights were dim, and the dance floor was packed with bodies moving in sync with the rhythm of the music. You spotted Pietro at the bar, his tall frame making him easy to find in the sea of people. He waved you over, a wide grin on his face. "You made it!" he shouted over the noise.

"Barely," you said, sliding onto the barstool next to him. He passed you a beer, already cold and sweating. "What's the plan?"

Pietro leaned in, his eyes gleaming with mischief. "First, we grab a drink or two. Then, I introduce you to the Foxwood nightlife."

You took a swig of the beer, the cold liquid sliding down your throat, a mix of excitement and nerves bubbling in your stomach. The last thing you wanted was to go back to your old ways, so this night was going to be a challenge. But as you scanned the room, you reminded yourself that you had changed. You weren't that person anymore. You were here to build a future, not rehash the past.

The first few hours were surprisingly tame. You talked with some of the locals, who were surprisingly welcoming despite your outsider status. They asked about your job and your life back in Westview, and you kept your answers vague, not wanting to dredge up any drama. You danced a bit, but it was more about the music than the flirtation. And every time you felt a pair of eyes on you, you couldn't help but look over at the door, expecting to see Wanda walk in.

"Okay, Maximoff. Out with it. What is this "surprise" you drug me out of my cozy night for?" you shouted over the music, now feeling the effects of your beverage choices cloud your brain.

Pietro leaned in, his smile growing wider. "I thought you'd never ask," he said, his voice barely audible over the thumping bass. He looped his arm around your neck, dragging you out of the bar you were at, and walking you down the street to another. "Welcome to heaven, Y/N." he motioned as you walked up to a padded door, the door swinging open as a bouncer checked your ID. The overwhelming scent of booze and perfume struck you, a remixed version of Deftones pumping through the speakers.

You walked in, Pietro high-fiving some people he clearly knew. "Welcome to Velvet, Y/N." Piet gestured around, the purple and red neon casting a dull shadow among all the dancers on thier platforms, and all in various states of undress. You felt like this could be trouble, but you had agreed to this night out, so you followed him through the sea of bodies to the VIP section. There was a table with a bottle of whiskey and two glasses already waiting. "You know how to pick your spots, Piet," you said, taking a seat.

"Isn't it great?" he smiled, his eyes dancing back and forth from one dancer to another.

You nodded, trying to keep your focus on the conversation and not on the... distractions around you. "It's... different from what I expected," you shouted back. His eyebrow shot up, a look of doubt on his face.

"Don't tell me you've gone completely soft on me, Y/N. You would have been all over a metal strip club like this a few years ago." He said, pouring you a glass of whiskey.

You took the glass with a nod, trying to keep your cool as you surveyed the scene around you. The music was loud, the lights were strobing, and the dancers were... mesmerizing. "I'm trying to not be the playboy me anymore, Piet."

He laughed, leaning over to you. "Just because you don't wanna be a fuckboy anymore, doesn't mean you need to be boring." He nudged you, his eyes still on the dancers. "Besides, I own this place," he stated, in the most nonchalant way possible.

"Excuse me?" You turned to him, questioning if you heard him correctly.

"Yeah, you heard me. I own this." he winked as one of the dancers pulled him into the back.

You couldn't help but feel a pang of annoyance. This wasn't what you had in mind when you agreed to go out. But before you could do anything, a figure caught your eye. Wanda. Dressed in a tight black dress that hugged her curves like a second skin, her hair cascading down in long, auburn waves, she looked like she didn't belong in this place. You felt your heart drop as she moved through the crowd, her eyes searching for something—or someone. She finally came up to someone, another woman, sitting with her at the table.

"Pietro, seriously?" you muttered under your breath, watching as he took the stage with one of the dancers, throwing money around like it was confetti. You watched as he threw himself at one of the dancers, Wanda laughing and shaking her head at his antics before he was pulled off the stage by another dancer.

"Don't worry, he does this every time he brings someone new to Velvet." A waitress dressed in a skimpy dress said as she came to grab your empty glasses. She had a pixie cut, green eyes, and a piercing smile. "I'm Natasha, by the way," she offered a hand.

"Y/N." you smiled, shaking hers in response.

"How do you know Pietro?" she asked, sitting down across from you.

"High school friends," you replied, watching as Wanda rolled her eyes at her brother's showmanship. She nodded, her gaze following yours. "He said he had a surprise for me tonight. I guess telling me he owned a strip club was the surprise." you laugh, shaking your head as you take another sip of your beer.

"Well, he does love to make an entrance," Natasha chuckled, her eyes sparkling with amusement. "But he's a good guy, really. Really good boss. One of the best I've had."

You nodded, trying to keep your eyes from wandering back to Wanda. "Yeah, he's... something else," you said, your voice trailing off as you watched her. Natasha followed your gaze and smirked. "So, you're here to see the show, huh?"

"More like I'm here to keep an eye on him," you admitted, feeling a blush creep up your neck. "And maybe unwind a bit."

Natasha leaned in, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "Well, if you're looking to unwind, I can give you the VIP tour.”

You sat, thinking as the woman stood before you. "Sure. Why the fuck not?" You smiled, deciding that Piet was right. You really needed to let loose. 

[organsoutsidelovinglydescribed]

Body Horror Week Prompts Are Live!

Welcome to Trigun Body Horror Week 2024!

We’ve set up a week of fantastic flavors of bodily horrors for you, and here is our official post sharing the prompts for you to cook with.

Body Horror Week is going to run from Feb 11th, 2024 until Feb 17th, 2024

For each set of prompts, we have an organ, two different songs, and a quote to inspire you into making the best horrors you’ve got.

The official hashtag for the week is #trigunbodyhorrorweek, and we’ll do our best to reblog your submissions the day of and whatever we may have missed during the week, we’ll reblog after. Feel free to tag us as well!

An AO3 collection is forthcoming.

There’s a copy of the prompts list below the cut, as well as links to the A-Sides and B-Sides for the music.

The art for the graphic was done by the wonderful @hashtagcaneven

Link for the music A-Sides and the B-Sides as playlists. Spotify playlist here.

Feb 11th: Eyes | Mama – My Chemical Romance | Mask of My Own Face – Lemon Demon | I hate it when humans and augmented humans ruin things for no reason. Maybe because I was a thing before I was a person, and if I’m not careful, I could be a thing again. - Network Effect, Martha Wells (Murderbot Diaries)

Feb 12th: Skin | This Body – The Dear Hunter | Hurt – Johnny Cash | Skin against skin, blood and bone / You’re all by yourself, but you’re not alone / You wanted in, and now you’re here / Driven by hate, consumed by fear – “Bodies”, Drowning Pool

Feb 13th: Lungs | Sin Eater – Penelope Scott | Between Two Lungs – Florence + the Machine | I remember seeing myself splayed across the floor of the kennel, a chimera split along a hundred seams, taking communion with a handful of dogs. - The Things, Peter Watts

Feb 14th: Heart | Love Me Dead – Ludo | Your Body, My Temple – Will Wood | The heart wants what it wants. What it wants is blood. - Welcome to Night Vale Twitter

Feb 15th: Limbs | Blood – My Chemical Romance | Body – Mother Mother | Pluck that crimson orb rusted package from the branches mother’s arms our tree you’ve chopped away at for too long with your mouth-bright ax pretty-teethed boy. - “A Brother Named Gethsemane”, Natalie Diaz

Feb 16th: Intestines | Void – Melanie Martinez | Blood on My Name – The Brothers Bright | It is a corpse rotting slowly from within while maggots writhe in its belly. - Warhammer 40k

Feb 17th: Alien | Roots – In This Moment | sprorgnsm – superorganism | To be trapped, unmoving, within the body that has betrayed her so often, feeling every sensation as it grows and warps and sprouts, never knowing what new mutation it will visit on her next. - The Magnus Archives, Episode 171, "The Gardener"

[f10werfae]

Pregnancy On The Brain

pairing: Lumberjack!Henry x Short!Shy!Wife!Reader

summary: Now that Henry’s successfully knocked up his precious darling wife, he has to keep an extra eye on her and their little miracle (Dom!Henry) (Emotional loving 🥹)

likes, comments and reblogs are appreciated🫶

Disclaimer: 18+ / Lumberjack!Henry Masterlist / Henry Masterlist / Full Masterlist

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

“Whas wrong sugar? What’s got my woman all teary” Henry frowned seeing his wife all upset in front of the mirror, her lips pouted and her face flustered. “I-I don’t f-fit into my d-dress anymore” Y/n whined seeing how the lemon printed dress barely made its way up her hips, stitches being ripped the harder she pulled on it. “Oi stop it, there’s nothin’ wrong, especially when there’s more of my bunbun to love on” Henry smirked groping the bits of skin Y/n was complaining about.

“B-but- well maybe I-I should e-exercise with you more?” She pondered looking up at him still visibly upset, in fact her chin was starting to wrinkle up from shaking so much, the new changes in her body clearly causing her distress. Henry could tell by the way her stutter started to make itself more visible. “No way. Precious things like you don’t belong on the heavy equipment sweetpea, you want exercise? Let me fuck your pretty pussy till ya sweat” He smirked bending down to nuzzle his nose with hers, his cock hardening once he saw her giggle n latch onto his bicep with both hands.

“T-That’s so naughty” She whispered cuddling the side of her face into his bicep, his other hand pulling back down the dress till it hit the floor, allowing him to play with her ass easily. “Listen while i’m out collecting log wood today, wan’ you to put on another pretty little dress that I bought ya last week, preferably the lilac one, n’ I want you to make somethin’ nice for us to eat when I get home. Can ya do that for me sugar bun?” He whispered running a finger up and down her cheek, his eyes having a dark glaze over them as he looked down at her.

“Mhm mhm! I can!” Y/n smiled happily, the ingredients for her cherry pie already listed out in her head, her cravings for it suddenly growing ten times in a mere few seconds. “Good n’ when I come home, i’ll have a surprise for ya” He grinned kissing her lips softly, before pulling away and grabbing his baseball cap, blowing kisses at her every two seconds as he walked towards his truck. Leaving his wife to her own special mission, the cherry pie.

“Oh I gotta get the cherries!” Y/n giggled slipping on her shoes, grabbing the wooden basket Henry had gotten her especially for her daily walks. Her face vibrant as she skipped down the secluded lane of their back yard, full of luscious fields, heading towards their cherry trees at the edge of the field. Her lilac dress flowing in the slightly cool breeze, her arms swinging the basket back and forth as she hummed a silly little tune she made up. Her eyes widening as she saw the amount of cherries on the tree, there were so many!

“Wow, y-you guys have all grown! Thank y-you so much” She said adorably picking a handful of sweet cherries from one branch, carefully grabbing her glass jar from the basket and plopping them in until it was full. “Well, I suppose it won’t hurt to taste one of ya” She whispered pulling out her blue blanket she always kept in her basket for emergency picnics, her several glass jars of cherries sitting snug inside the basket, while she lay down munching on her home grown fruits.

She still remembers the day she had complained to Henry about his poor eating habits and demanded he bought her seeds for her own plants; now here she was basically nurturing her own garden of babies, ranging from apples all the way to carrots.

‘That one looks like bonnie the rabbit’ Y/n thought looking up at the scarce white clouds flying overhead, her stuffed animal back home looking like one of them, then another looked like Henry’s axe and then one looked like a cherry. “Oh my phone, m-musta left it at home” She giggled realising, her hand reaching for the missing phone to try and take a picture to send to Henry. The warm sun gracing her face, distant sounds of birds providing a sweet lullaby, one which she slowly fell asleep to.

Meanwhile… Henry on the other hand was just about ready to head home, like clockwork he checked his babygirl’s location on life 360, smirking to himself to see that she had stayed at home like she said she would. Heading off back through the country in his pickup truck, he stopped off at a pharmacy by the gas station, picking up his surprise gift for his bunbun; one he knew would solidify their relationship forever. His body sweaty and hot, even though he was wearing baggy jeans a vest, his body painted with a light golden tan.

“Home sweet home” He whispered to himself, dusting off before going inside, remembering how much his precious wife despises their home being messy; Henry still smiles at the memory of her showing her domestic side, how she wouldn’t let him leave without breakfast and would always pack him lunches. Henry on the other hand wouldn’t let her go anywhere unless it was him driving her, after all what else was his purpose other than to look after his naive lover.

“Sugar pie, where are ya?” He shouted throwing his vest off to the side, his boots thundering against the creaky wooden floorboards, his steps leading him into the kitchen; the ingredients for her famous cherry pie laid out on the counter. But no Y/n. His nostrils flared seeing her iphone left beside the ingredients, who knows how long she’s been gone?

‘Did she really fuckin’ leave?’ Was Henry’s first thought, the veins on his neck popping out purely just from the thought, no wonder her tracker hadn’t moved once. Although the thought of her leaving dissipated once he saw Marly the cat coming inside from the fields, their backdoor was left wide open, the sunshine peeking in gratefully. “Ah the fields, the fuckin’ fields” Henry chuckled shaking his head, course she was out there, he knew how much his wife loved exploring the great outdoors; bringing him different coloured rocks and pebbles, watching giddily as he’d place them on the mantle as if they were to be treasured. And they were, because she got them for Him.

Walking out the backdoor he started off walking down the lane, the meadows further away shining green and healthily, but nothing deterred Henry from finding his little love.

Stopping at the start of the line of trees, he saw her, clearly snoring away on her soft picnic blanket; her basket full of jars of cherries beside her. Henry scoffed and smirked seeing just how silly she was, but he couldn’t blame her, not with her current condition. Looming over her figure, she whined and whimpered before opening her eyes fully, a sleepy smile gracing her lips when she realised it was none other than her husband.

“You fuckin’ scared me baby, didn’t know what ta do without ya, ya left your phone n’ everythin’” Henry whispered hunkering down onto his knees, watching as she slowly sat up, her face all puffy and sun-kissed from her nap. “m-m’ sorry I-I forgot it n’ I was too b-busy lookin’ at the clouds a-and”

“s’okay baby, your man knows, can’t blame ya for a little forgetfulness” He chuckled darkly, seeing how sleepy she still was, guiding her to hop onto his back while he gathered up her blanket and basket. “Missed you s-so much” She whispered kissing his back softly as he whistled a tune, “Ah was only gone for around three hours sugar” He chuckled walking down the smooth path, their large luxurious cabin coming into sight. “I-I know that, but I missed you a-anyway” She sighed rubbing her head against his warm back, her eyes threatening to close over once again.

“n’ I missed your pretty pussy-“

“My What!” Y/n’s eyes shot open at her husband’s vulgar words, his back vibrating from his chuckles travelling through, “n’ your tits and your-“

“Stop i-it that’s embarrassing and t-they ain’t pretty mister” She whined kicking her legs which were in his hands, his footsteps stopping abruptly with a deep sigh, “What do I gotta do to prove to you, that I think you’re fuckin’ sexy as hell, n’ I have to stop myself from whipping my cock out everytime I see ya smile” He grunted lifting her up a bit higher before continuing on down the trail, “W-whippin’ your wha out?!” She giggled loudly, her chin resting on his shoulder as she looked at his face from the side.

Henry smirked turning his head to the side, capturing her lips with his, his tongue reaching out for hers but quickly retracting once she wanted more. The tease. “You’re such a m-meanie, no more kissies for you” She grunted moving back to rest against his back, his hand leaving her leg to reach back and spank her ass with a pop; her body jerking up with an excited squeal.

“Try that again sweetheart n’ we’ll see what happens” He growled finally stepping into the cooler cabin, setting her down on top of their counters, beside his plastic bag from the pharmacy which had her small present. “I-is my present in here?!” She said excitedly picking up the bag, only to pout when Henry pulled it away from her grumpily.

“I dunno if you deserve it honey, ya worried me today, had me thinkin’ ya left your man up ‘ere in the mountains” He ‘tsk’ed and caged her in with an arm on each side of her, his nose rubbing up and down her cheek sensually, her hands fisting his shirt desperately as she pouted. “I-I dunno what happened H-hen, I swear! M-m jus’ forgetful nowadays” She whimpered nuzzling into his chest like a kitten, her legs caged around his waist, her face dipping down to place kisses onto his neck and up his chin.

“Alright alright fine, since you wan’ it so badly” He smirked cupping her face and kissing her nose, his hands reached into the bag and pulled out the small box, a clearblue box. “Ya know what this is bunny don’t ya?” Taking out the small stick and twirling it in his hands, he passed it to his wife, who was visibly shocked and shaken at what he’d just given her. “A-a pregnancy test?” She whispered looking at the foreign object, was this the condition Henry was talking about?

“I wan’ you to take it for me babybun, see if we have our present in there already” He smirked nipping her lip playfully, his hand rubbing over the bottom of her stomach affectionately, her small gasps filling his ears. “I-is this why my dresses d-don’t fit?”

“Find out n’ see baby” He smiled taking her hand in his, and pulling her into their large bathroom, with a bathtub big enough to fit four people at the most. “W-will you stay with me? M-m scared” She whimpered pulling up the skirt of her dress, her face flustered at the thought of him watching her pee, but then again this wouldn’t be the first time. There’d been multiple times where he’d simply barge into the toilet while she was in there, just for his routine goodbye kiss before work.

“Don’t worry sugar pie, m’not leavin’, not now and not ever” He smiled, almost sickly, his hands holding onto hers, quite comical because his wife was simply peeing yet needed all the support possible. “Alright pass it over ‘ere” He said watching her finish up, the test still in her shaky hands. “N-no way it’s full of my pee” She gasped horrified putting it down onto the counter herself, turning to distract herself by washing her hands.

Those three minutes felt like utter hell for them both, with Y/n ultimately sitting on Henry’s lap whilst he was on the toilet cover, his voice softly shushing her small whimpers and nervous hiccups as she looked at the test left on the table. “S’okay pretty girl, daddy will look after ya both” Kissing her neck wetly he could already feel her pussy throbbing at his words, even during a nerve wracking situation like this, a life altering moment.

“Ya promise?” Holding his deep blue eyes, her own looked glossy and scared, her hands fiddling with his fingers erratically. “I pinky promise” Linking their fingers together he kissed her lips softly, her head pushing forward wanting to deepen it, she missed three hours worth of his kisses today; she was not having it!

Although their little kiss session was interrupted by the beep of the timer on Henry’s phone, Y/n jumping up to her feet and leaning her head over to look at the plastic stick, her breath hitching in her throat. “what does a cross mean?” Her voice came out dry and hoarse, and for once not a stutter was in sight, she knew what it meant. “My gorgeous little wife is pregnant, with my baby” He smiled to himself still sitting on the toilet cover, he already knew the result, months of vitamins and unprotected sex would eventually have lead to this; all it took was some time.

“I-i’m gonna be a mommy?” Her hand softly slid down to cup the slight pouch on her stomach, her fingers grazing over her fabric slowly, a small smile finding its way onto her cace. “I-i’m gonna be a mommy!”

“mhm, so prouda ya babygirl” Henry smirked feeling up her thigh, his hand going up to grope her bare ass, his new baby momma still coming to terms with the fact she was carrying their little life; yet all he wanted to do was to fuck her good, and if he could he would knock her up again. The idea of his wife all round and big, full of him, got him so hot and bothered, her tits all swollen along with her belly, safely housing their own miracle.

“H-how do we know when i-it’s comin?”

“I’ll sort all that out baby, ya don’t need to worry your pretty self, after-all ya got pregnancy on the brain. Don’t want ya forgettin’ anythin” He cooed standing up to kiss her forehead, his arms enveloping her against him, feeling her nod and relax in his arms. All according to his plan.

After he was finally able to get her to come to bed with him, he found her hands naturally gravitating towards her stomach, her protective maternal instincts already kicking in so early. “I-if we have a g-girl can we name it a-after a flower?” She asked innocently looking up at him, her hands on top of his, on her stomach. “N’ what if it’s a boy babybun?” He chuckled kissing the tip of her nose, “I dunno haven’t t-thought of it yet! Stop stressin’ me out!” She whined almost inaudibly as Henry murmured sweet soft apologies, his lips coating the side of her face in gentle kissies, her favourite.

“T-thought you said you was sleepy” She whispered wrapping her arms around his neck, caressing his nape as he continued to plant little love bites on his lover, his kisses leaving her all hot and bothered. “I am, wasn’t lyin’” Henry pulled back quirking his eyebrow, “T-then tell it to calm down, o-or else ya won’t be able to sleep” Y/n said shyly pointing at the tent starting to grow in Henry’s trousers, ignoring the fact that Henry had basically bunched her dress up to her breasts, his fingers rubbing over her slick wet folds.

“Why don’t you tell my pussy to calm down” He grumbled rubbing her own slickness all over her, acting as if it was lube, his fingers greedily pinching her swollen jutted out clit. “Y-you started it! baby, tell your d-daddy to stop bein silly” She whined looking down and rubbing her still stomach, even though there was still no dramatic visible growth, the potential of it made her emotional and excited.

Licking into her mouth Henry held the back of her neck gently, both of her hands still on her stomach, while his other hand was busy messing with her second set of lips. Tugging, rubbing and spanking at her sensitive button, causing her body to jolt and shiver into the kiss, her tongue actively sucking on his passionately. Her chin slowly growing wet and slick, both of them not caring at how much filth there was. Kissing her sensually one more time he pushed her fully onto her back, his knees straddling her.

“Oh baby I hope they got your eyes, gon’ have me wrapped round their lil finger jus’ like their momma” He groaned seeing her just batting her eyelashes at him, a mischievous smile on her face as she felt up his torso, “I-I wan’ them to look l-like their daddy, s-so handsome” She whispered looking away from his eyes shyly. His hands now pulling the dress up fully over her head, giving her tits a bounce and grope; his voice chuckling deeply in her ear as he licked up her neck, “You’re so g’damn sexy, can’t wait to see ya all full of me, walkin’ around so everyone knows I pumped ya full of my cum”

“mhm s-so dirty” Whimpering and writhing, she felt his fingers go back down to her slick centre, the tip of his cock slapping against her clit roughly, almost imitating the spank of a hand. “Aw baby, we both know you’re the dirty one here, weren’t ya the one beggin’ me to kiss your pretty little pussy the other day?”

“Y-you said if I needed help w-with the tingles ya would help” She whined feeling the head of his shaft slip through her sensitive folds, his nestle of curls at the base of his dick softly scratching against her button, his heavy balls sitting against her swollen lips. His length slowly slipping in through her puffy pussy, both of them sighing out in relief and pleasure as he bottomed out inside of her; Y/n’s hands cupping his face to keep his forehead on hers, nuzzling their noses together for comfort like they always did.

“Gah hav’ knocked ya up and you’re still so tight, almost like when ya were a virgin honey” Henry growled pecking her pouty lips, her voice whining at his choice of words, her legs securely wrapped around his waist. “You take me so well honey, could fuck your pregnant pussy all day n’ night if a could”

“W-well you can, y-you jus’ don’t” She snarked back, clearly regretting her decision straight after when Henry quirked his brow at her, making her shut up in a mere few seconds. “Say that again n’ i’ll tie ya to the bed, won’t be leavin’ since ya want me to play with my pussy so much” He teased thrusting in and out at a slow pace, his one hand cupping her face, while the other toyed with her nipples. “Can’t wait to see these pretty tits fill up with milk, I already know it’ll taste as sweet as you do sugar pie, you’ll let me have a taste won’t ya?”

Small mewls left her slightly opened lips, her eyes widen open and already glimmering with tears as Henry slowly moved their position, where he was now spooning her, their hips smacking together to create a lewd sound. “Mhmhm” She moaned pushing her tits together just for him, knowing how much he adored just simply looking at them, sometimes he’d even hide her bras just so she’d walk about their home, her pebbles nipples poking through the fabric.

“So gorgeous, my pretty wife” He smirked leaning over and spitting right onto the valley between her breasts, hearing her squeak as he watched her massage his spit onto her globes, she was so dirty for him; only him. Before she had met Henry, Y/n L/n would never have even stepped a foot out of line, and now she was the one making the line. Hugging onto her, he kissed her shoulders and back so affectionately, he wanted to make her cum. “I-I love you so much pretty girl, ya make me so happy, you n’ our lil’ miracle” He moaned feeling her clench around him, his hand reaching over to momentarily slap her breasts together, before reaching down and drawing figure eights on her button.

Hearing no reply he looked over to see tears filing down her face continuously, her lip hidden between her teeth as she bit down harshly, her hands fisting the sheets tightly to keep her from squealing at how deep he was going. “What’s wrong bunny? Am I hurtin’ ya?” He said slowing down, concern lacing his voice as his rough calloused hands felt up her sides. “N-no, a-am jus’ really happy, love you too hubby” She smiled blinking away a few stray tears as she turned her head to face him, her tongue outstretched already waiting to tangle around his, muffled squeals leaving her lips as she felt him return back to his rhythm.

“I’m close babybun, ya wanna cum with me?” He asked breaking away from their kiss with a peck, their lips still touching as he spoke, her eyes staring up at his softly but intensely, her head nodding; her lips wanting nothing more than to his his soft ones. Thank God she had forced him to start wearing lip balm.

Y/n found herself clawing onto his arm that was wrapped around her waist, her teeth clenched, sobs wrecking through her body purely just because she felt so loved and so intimate. Henry’s warm cum flooding her almost instantly as she herself felt his fingers rub her button at the same time, her hole clenching around him for the last time, giving out once she let out a raspy breath.

“Did so good for me sugar plum, don’t worry I gotcha, ya can rely on me” He whispered kissing the shell of his ear, feeling her clench around him a few more times before pulling out slowly to not make her uncomfortable. After a few silent seconds of Henry combing her hair back with his fingers, his soft voice shushing her quiet sobs as he rocked her back and forth against his body.

Henry couldn’t help but worry, he’d never seen his precious give such an emotional reaction, had he pushed her too far? She hadn’t used her safe-word ‘cherry’ so he had assumed she was still okay during their intense love-making session. The tiny tattoo of a ‘H’ on the back of her neck receiving wet kisses while he waited for her to calm down.

“Hold on pretty, m’jus’ gonna run us a bath alright?” Receiving nothing but a shake of a head and a ‘don’t leave me a-alone’ He smiled picking her up against his still nude body, sitting her on top of the counter as he filled up the tub with warm water, making sure to put in some of lavender bubbles she adored so much to relax in.

“c’mere sugar, don’t worry i’m here too” He whispered helping her step into the purple coloured water, letting her sit sideways on his lap, her head laying on his shoulder; that’s how big their bath tub is.

“M-m sorry for bein’ a crybaby, I didn’t mean it” She whispered lifting her head up to kiss his beard covered cheek, her energy clearly spent and gone.

“Don’t you ever apologise for bein’ you, what’d I tell ya? If you’re cryin’, i’m here, if you’re angry then i’m here, you’re happy then i’m here. This is for life sweets, nothin’ is gonna put me off ya I promise. Well except sometimes ya stink but-“

“Stop it!” She said smiling a little, Henry’s heart lightening a little seeing her vibe jolt up a bit in comparison to earlier. “Now that i’ve seen that beautiful smile a’ yours, care to share what’s buggin’ my wife so much?”

“I-it really was nothin’ bad. Was jus’ thinkin’ about how- how happy I am w-with you. W-When I think back to when I was 17, I-I was always so worried i’d end up un-unloved because of my problems; but y-you’ve never made me feel like a burden, n’ now w-we’re havin’ a baby together” She smiled finishing her explanation, looking up at Henry with a blissful smile on her face, her hands bringing his to her stomach, “O-our baby” She giggled wiggling excitedly on his lap,

“There’s no other woman on this Earth i’d rather have a baby with-“

“So i-if an alien”

“Shut it you. Let me continue my speech to you now that you’ve done yours” He chuckled sprinkling water in her face playfully, “You’re the one for me, n’ you’d never be a burden because I want to bother with you, I want everything with ya. Gah, you’re just fuckin’ irresistible n’ I don’t think I can live without ya. I don’t know what piece a shit has said things to ya but, you’re my precious sugar plum princess. In our little world, right up ‘ere where no one can get us, I promise to keep ya n’ our little miracle safe. Cause you’re both mine n’ i’m not afraid to show it” He finished, twirling the wedding band round her finger, his eyes staring at her; simply smiling she leant forward connecting their lips together, “N’ y-you’re mine”

———

PSA: I really am proud of this piece, and hope you all enjoy reading it as much as I did writing it 🫶

Library blog of works: @f10werfaes-cosy-collection

Taglist (not accepting please use library)

@thecdairies @pandaxnienke @thereisa8ella @kimhtoo17 @beck07990 @dumb-fawkin-bitch @madebylilly @kebabgirl67 @uwiuwi @marvelgurl @stormcloudss @girl-of-multi-fandoms @misshale21 @hallecarey1 @mischiefsemimanaged @nikkitc0703 @oliviah-25 @aerangi @bookfrog242 @alina02 @alexxavicry @lastwandastan @hp-hogwartsexpress @angelmather1 @acornacre @ggmimitf @helenaellie @thebaileybugle @p4st3lst4rs @kzhlvlysstuff @thoughtsofreid @cilliansangel @theekyliepage @cookielovesbook-akie @rosiesluv7 @yaminax @luvabellee @elenavampire21 @hoya122 @esposadomd @meyocoko @disaster-rose @severewobblerlightdragon @kemillyfreitas @adoreyouusugar @queensgirl718 @sweetybuzz25

Hope you all have a lovely week🫶

Can’t wait to write more dad!lumberjack!Henry xoxo Fae

[itsalwaysteatimeinwonderland]

Finding Peace Pt.3: Dance With Me (Spike x Y/N)

Request: No. Part 3 of the Multi fic.

Synopsis: Being a cursed slayer is hard. Harder when a vampire won't just leave you alone.

TW: None.

Word Count: 1.2k

Previous | Next

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Sun has set and the air is thick with fog. It’s eerily quiet in the cemetery. Not a creature to disturb the atmosphere. Inside the crypt there permeated a different energy.

Heavy sighs and lustful laughs can be heard. The sound of passionate kissing and groping is evident in the quiet of the night. Spike held you close to him on the sofa. Like a predator that caught his prey. You sighed in his mouth as you melded in a fiery storm of desire. His hands roamed your upper back, trying to unclasp your bra. You didn’t protest. Everything was going well. Too well. You came out for air. Heavy eye contact was made. As if you could communicate your deepest desires with one look.

As Spike was ready to go in for another round of erotic contact a loud noise was heard. He looked up but nothing was there. Another thud nearer still. He felt in a haze. As if something was amiss. As he looks back down at you, you disappear. His dream is broken. He wakes up with a gasp. Another dreaded dream of the cursed slayer. He felt surprised that his attention had shifted so suddenly to the new slayer. His heart still belonged to Buffy, or at least that’s what he liked to believe. However, these heavy sensual dreams were more frequent as of late.

Outside y/n roamed the cemetery, hacking away at heavy foliage near the wooded area. Another night out on the hunt. If it could stop, that would be an improvement to y/n's life. Being cursed to hunt demons for over 1,000 years is less of a privilege and more of a punishment. The world may be safe, but y/n loses her grip on reality. Every day is the same. Wake up, go to work, wait till the sun sets and hunt. Everything was the same with a little twist, this time around. Spike being the lemon to her lemonade. She regarded him as an equal, someone that she enjoyed being around, but the lord knows he was bad for her. With his British accent, bravado and underlying poet heart. She had met many like him, but he had a spark to him. A light that others missed. She hadn’t seen him since their slow dance. You could say that tonight her hunt was partially focused on finding him again.  

The cemetery was empty, quiet. The fog gave it an eerie ambiance. Y/n was guarded and ready for a fight. No, hoping for a fight. A crack in the distance catches her attention. She walks closer, hoping to encounter a demon. She pounces on a bush, wrestles with a branch or two to find nothing. A bunny on its way to its hide out.

"Attacking critters, are we?" A smug voice called from behind.

Y/n whips her head around to find him, leaning on a tombstone. She made a mental note of how ridiculously big the tombstone was. She feigned annoyance.

"You can never be too sure in the Hellmouth. What are you up to in this cryptic place." She brushed off the twigs and leaves that gathered in her hair.

"Vampire plus cemetery equals home."

She felt dumb. "Oh right, god forbid you find somewhere that doesn't smell like death"

"I like to call it musk." He grinned and walked closer. He fiddled with her hair, pulling the remaining twigs out of it. "Are we hunting tonight, cursed slayer?"

She snatched her hair back. "It’s just slayer and yes. I heard that a big demon was hiding out here. You didn't see a skinny little rascal full of horns and pointy teeth, did ya?"

"The description paints a picture but none that I’ve seen. Why not entertain yourself with some vampires while you wait?"

"No can do. That's Buffy's territory. I just hunt demons now a days.”

Spike raises his eyebrows, incredulous. “A retired slayer?"

"No, to loop back to your original point, I’m a cursed slayer. Part of the ordeal is that I can't kill vampires and they can't kill me. So we're eternally stuck with each other. Poetic, ain't it?" Y/n makes a face of defeat.

Spike takes a breath, processing what you just said. He is thoroughly amused by your circumstances. Enthralled with the idea that you can't hurt him and he can’t hurt you. Equals.

He proceeds to laugh after a pause. "You're pathetic."

"Super rude." She pushes past him. She regrets seeking him out. Of course, regardless of how she feels about him, he is still evil.

He reaches back for her only to miss her hand. The slight touch sending shivers down his spine. What a nit he has been. If she were like Buffy, she would’ve bantered with him. Picked a fight. Y/n is much less tolerant of his teasing.

Y/n walks with purpose deeper into the cemetery woods in search of the demon. Spike follows her.

"What do you want Spike? Let me be pathetic in peace." She's angry and hurt.

This is why you don't share about your curse. It makes you feel defective, useless. She thought.

He steps in front of you, hands up in a defensive stance. "I’m sorry. I didn't mean it as an insult"

You laugh. "How else am I supposed to take it?"

"I’m not used to people taking what I say to heart. I was expecting an insult back."

"Yes, please make fun of my suffering. I just love being eternal. If you’re looking for a fight, go somewhere else. Now move, this pathetic cursed slayer still has work to do."

As you walk away, he beats himself up internally. What a fucking idiot he's being. How can he reach out to you if he's too busy pushing you away? So, he follows you again without a word.

Screeching is heard from a couple of miles away. A pained scream from an unknown being. There's a clearing in the woods and an animal is seen thrashing and fighting for its life. Y/n crouches low, eyes on the demon feeding on the animal.

"That our guy?" Spike sneaks behind you.

You don't answer. You pull a sword from a sheath strapped to your back. You're ready.

You go in fast with a big swing. You miss by a small margin. The demon confronts you and you go at it. His slim form permits him to be agile while you're slightly slowed down by your weapon.

Frustrated, Spike gets tired of being on the sidelines. "Mind if I cut in." He slugs the demon unexpectedly.

The demon stumbles and before he can get his bearings you slice into the demon’s chest cavity. The demon screams out in pain. His body slumps with a disgusting thud.

"That was easy." Spike smirked.

You're frustrated with him for insulting you and the even more for cutting in. It was clear that coming out tonight was a mistake. You turn around and start to storm off, sword in hand. You hated how overly sensitive you felt around Spike. He was just another vampire. So, why were you so hurt by him?

"Wait..." Spike begs.

You swing your sword and place it inches away from his face. He steadies.

"I liked our dance the other night. It felt right. Can we do it again sometime?"

"Are you gonna insult me again?"

Spike pondered it. He liked getting under her skin. "Not unless it turns you on."

You laughed, you couldn't help it. This dolt of a vampire had you in a chokehold and you didn't know why.

"Do you know how to waltz?" She asked.

Spike grimaced. "A bit uppity for my taste but I'll do it." He pushes your sword away and steps closer "But only for you."

[spidervee]

afterglow (tangerine x reader)

summary: tangerine finds himself falling for the girl next door (part 1/3) words: 3.1k warnings: fem!reader, lotsa swears, sexual thoughts, implied sexual situations, implied violence, implied drug use, no use of y/n, neighbours to lovers trope, tangerine's angry inner monologue is a warning all its own, lemon being the best

You’re determined to move your groceries from the boot of your car to the front porch in a single trip. Mind, there’s not more than a dozen or so steps between the two, but it’s the principle of the matter—one trip is so much more satisfying than two. However, your determination did not account for the fact that you bought a family-sized box of Cheerios, a bag of flour, and a carton of eggs along with your usual run of fruits, vegetables, and pasta. Thus, you’re more than a little off-balance as you shoulder your canvas tote bags, your body tilting dangerously toward the left as you try to close the boot with the three fingers on your right hand that remain free. You miss, staggering forward and hitting your knees against the bumper and hissing out a curse.

“You quite alright there, love?” An amused voice distracts you from the pain of what will doubtlessly become a tender spot, though the sudden realisation that you have an audience is horrible, embarrassment flooding through you as you straighten up and try to look composed. 

“Brilliant,” you call back, refusing to look at the man you know is watching you. It’s the bloke next door, on the right, the tall one with the blue eyes and the weirdly retro moustache and the suits that look far too expensive for this neighbourhood. 

You’ve never exchanged more than a few words at a time with him, only interacting when necessary—the time a package of his got delivered to your porch, the time your cat climbed the drooping branches of the willow tree in his yard, and the time he’d nearly run you over with his car during your morning run. Admittedly, that last time had been rather terse, though it hadn’t stopped the minimal pleasantries neighbours were meant to exchange. The two of you still nodded politely at one another if you happened to cross paths. Sometimes you’d give a wave that he would return with a slightly more emphatic nod than his usual. 

So, it surprises you when he starts down his drive toward yours, flicking away the cigarette that had been dangling from his lips moments earlier. You try to hastily correct yourself, balance your posture, rearrange your bags so that you don’t look so helplessly overwhelmed, but his legs are too long and he’s by your side in just a few strides, helping you shrug off one of the totes, and then another. 

“Gonna break your bloody back,” he mutters, tone disapproving as he lifts the bags effortlessly in one hand and carries them to your front door. 

“I was managing,” you say sharply, embarrassment getting the best of you. He snorts, a derisive noise that only seeks to send your guard up even further, a scowl writing itself across your face. “I was!” 

“A simple thank you is all I need, love.” He turns to face you with those dazzling blue eyes and your throat feels suddenly dry, your body pinned under his stare. You want to protest, to underscore the fact that you’ve unloaded your groceries alone more than a hundred times and his little show of chivalry was entirely unnecessary. 

But all you can do is swallow, watching as his tattooed hands pull a pack of cigarettes from the pocket of his tailored trousers. 

“Thanks,” you mutter. A grin turns up the corners of his mouth as he lights his cigarette and presses it between his lips. With a nod, he’s heading down your steps and back to his own porch, not another word exchanged between the two of you. 

You can’t stop thinking about him, damn it. Three days later and you’re still remembering the way his eyes danced over you, somehow appraising and appreciative all at once. You think you want to see more of him, feel his hands, that moustache scratching along the inside of your thighs. 

Maybe it’s been a while since you got laid. 

Because you shouldn’t be having these thoughts about the bloke next door—he’s definitely dodgy. He keeps odd hours and disappears for questionable stretches of time. He only ever has one visitor, a friendly bloke, sure, but almost as dodgy, driving a different car nearly every month. And you’re fairly certain you once saw him coming home with blood spattered on his crisp white shirt—not that you were watching, no, you’d just happened to be bringing in the shopping at the time. 

Still, when you find yourself out of sugar in the middle of baking cookies for tomorrow’s fundraiser, you’re desperate. And Mrs. Barry on the left is out at her daughter’s, so you’ve no choice but to go knock on the door and ask porn-stache if he can do you a real quick favour. 

You’re not sure what’s worse. That he answers the door with a gruff “whaddaya want?” 

Or that he’s shirtless, belt buckle hanging open and trousers slung low around his hips. 

“Sugar,” you manage to squeak out. And he raises a thick eyebrow at you, amused. 

“Right, sorry,” he grins, the gruffness gone in favour of something almost teasing. “Whaddaya want, sugar?”

Tangerine never gets visitors, unless he’s counting Lemon. He doesn’t count Lemon because it’s fuckin’ Lemon. There’s obligation there. Call it business. Call it brotherly love. Call it bloody codependency. 

And Lemon has a key. He never knocks. In fact, knocking is utterly fucking suspect in Tangerine’s humble opinion. It meant you were either going to open the door to the world’s dumbest fuckin’ assassin or someone was trying to lure you into a false sense of security. Or it was the lad delivering curry. But he hadn’t ordered any curry. 

So it’s not his fault, really, when he slips his gun into his back pocket before opening the door. The heft of it pulls his trousers ever so slightly more down his hips, but he’d been about to get into the shower and whoever the bastard at the door is doesn’t deserve his decency, not when they’re knocking on his fucking door like he’s invited them over for tea. 

But when he opens the door, his brow furrows immediately because there’s that sweet-looking bird from next door just stood on his bloody porch like she belongs there, eyes wide and a shy smile on her face. Tangerine takes care to puff up his chest a little bit because suddenly he’s not so terribly annoyed. 

Although the gun pressing into his tailbone is a fucking nuisance. 

There’s a plate in your hands, piled high with something that’s wrapped in aluminium, and you hold it out in his direction by way of greeting. Tangerine just looks at your offering, unaccustomed to receiving things. 

“Cookies,” you explain, “From the sugar I borrowed.” 

His brain searches for a snarky remark, a teasing word, anything to make this feel less intimate than it does because you’re standing on his porch with cookies you made for him like he’s not a bloody bastard who killed six men in Cape Town three weeks ago. But, his traitorous brain supplies nothing—not a single syllable to his suddenly parched tongue. 

So, he blinks at you, unsure what to say. His first instinct is to laugh, but he manages to suppress that and instead allows you to instead shove the plate of cookies into his hands and wave an awkward little goodbye. 

“Thanks,” he mutters, watching you walk away with the oddest sense of déja vu. But your front door has already closed behind you. 

Inside, Tangerine sets the plate aside on the corner of the counter, beside the spice rack and tucked away so he doesn’t have to think about the cookies. It’s less about the cookies themselves and more about the inkling of warmth that filled him when you graciously handed him the plate, a small smile playing on your lips like you knew they were fucking delicious. 

He has no intention of eating them. For all he knows, they’re laced with bloody poison. More likely, though, is that they’ll taste like the things he’s missing in his life and that’s so much more fucking depressing. 

He decides to shower, if for no other reason than to wash away the feelings you’ve left like electricity rippling along his skin. And, if he’s being honest, the shower is the best place for him to think about you right now. For…reasons. 

When he emerges, he’s calmer and decidedly happier…until he spies Lemon at his kitchen island, the plate of your cookies—his cookies—open in front of him. 

“Bruv, these cookies are fucking ace.” 

“No, you daft cunt don’t eat those!” 

Lemon doesn’t even pause in chewing, fixing his brother with a confused stare, eyebrows quirked. “Why the hell not?” 

“They’re…fucking hell, Lemon can’t you just listen?” Tangerine is incensed, hands wringing, “You always hafta ask a million questions like you’re the fucking coppers. Really gets on my tits, you know?”

“You’re angry,” Lemon says through a mouthful of cookie. 

“Bloody brilliant observation. Sherlock fucking Holmes over here. Call Scotland fucking Y….” 

“It’s not about the cookies.” Lemon cuts off his ranting with a well-timed observation. 

Tangerine breathes out heavily through his nose. “Sod off.” 

“Is it about a girl?” 

“Not a bloody girl.” 

“A boy?” 

“For Chrissake, Lemon we’re not in the fourth fucking grade!” 

“It’s that pretty little bird next door, innit?” 

“Fuck off.” 

He returns the plate with a handwritten note on a Post-It. His penmanship is nice enough, a neat if somewhat loopy cursive, telling you thank you for the cookies. It was Lemon’s fucking idea, being neighbourly and all that shite. He rings your bell, glad when you don’t answer so he can simply leave the plate on your welcome mat. 

You’re pruning roses the next time he sees you and the look of focus on your face, the way your tongue pokes out from between your lips, almost makes him smile—bloody fucking hell, who is he? 

Unlucky for him, you notice him and wave, shears in your raised hand so you look a bit barmy until you realise you’re waving a weapon around and quickly tuck them sheepishly behind your back. Tangerine, in a stunning display of idiocy that he will later want to smash his head into a wall over, begins to walk toward you. Like you’re a goddamn magnet. No, stronger than that. The sunshine around which the fucking earth of his own body has begun to orbit. Gravity makes no fucking sense anymore because if it did he would not be falling for the cute smile you fix him with, the stunningly normal and carefree way you adjust your sunhat and point out that your climbing roses are almost taller than you; the manner in which you wrinkle your nose at him and inform him—as if he doesn’t fucking know—that you don’t even know his name. 

He gives you the name on his most recent fake ID, Andrew—a perfectly nice and proper name, but then shakes his head. “Mates just call me Tangerine,” he tells you, neglecting to say that his enemies call him that as well, along with some choice other words.

“Tangerine?” More nose wrinkling and Tangerine is ready to take his own knees out with a billy club because they’re getting weaker by the fucking second standing here with you. 

“It’s a footie thing,” he lies, “That bloke you see coming and going is Lemon. He plays goal” 

“You play football?” 

More lies. More small talk. Until Lemon’s car pulls up and Tangerine is torn between relieved to see his brother and wanting to throw him off the fucking face of the earth. He tells you he best be going. You nod, holding out your hand, encased as it is in thick gardening gloves up to the elbow. 

“It was nice to meet you, Tang—oh! Sorry, is it just a footie thing?”

He takes your proffered hand and gives it a small squeeze. “No, love, you can call me whatever you’d like.” 

It’s 3 in the morning and you can’t sleep, tossing and turning as seemingly every embarrassing childhood moment comes back to haunt you from the depths of your mind. Since your bedroom is no refuge and you don’t particularly feel like catching anything on the telly, you seek a moment of solace on the porch, wondering if maybe, for once, the stars are out. 

But the only light, aside from the artificial yellow of the streetlamps, is the low glow of cigarette embers on Tangerine’s porch and you narrow your eyes, trying to catch a glimpse of his figure in the shadowy night. 

“Can’t sleep, love?” His voice rings through the silence and you take it as an invitation to walk over and join him. 

“One of those nights, I guess.” You shrug as you drop down onto the porch swing next to him. It’s an oddly homey thing to have there, you think, for a man who is not always home. Tangerine makes a noise of agreement in his throat. He’s familiar with those nights, has them every so often when his birthday is coming up and those incessant thoughts about what he’s done with his life start to creep up on him. 

The two of you sit in comfortable silence until your head drops to the side, landing on his shoulder. If Tangerine is surprised by the contact, he doesn’t show it, remaining still other than the slight shift to accommodate you. 

There, on his porch, in the summer heat, you fall asleep against Tangerine, leaving him to glance up at the starless sky in askance because it all feels alarmingly normal and he doesn’t hate it.  

There’s screaming on the lawn. Not his lawn, so he shouldn’t really get involved, but the angry voice of a man calls out your name and his ears perk up, less out of interest and more out of a sudden desire to murder any bastard who dares raise his voice at you. 

Quietly, Tangerine slips out his front door to see what’s unfolding. You’re stood on your porch, arms crossed over your chest in defiance. There’s a man on the lawn, consumed by rage by the looks of it, and Tangerine contemplates popping inside to grab his gun.

“You stupid bitch!” 

“Get the fuck out.” Your voice is hard and Tangerine feels a stitch of pride at how stoic and unaffected you look by the absolute meltdown happening ten feet in front of you. But then, the man threatens to kill you and Tangerine is across his yard faster than he’s ever moved before, his fingers wrapped tightly around this fucking bloke’s wrist, staying him.  

“I think fucking not, mate,” Tangerine’s voice is low and threatening. “You touch her and I will cut every fucking one of your fingers off then shove them up your bastard arse before I fucking kill you. You don’t even fucking look at her. Tuck you tail between your legs and get the fuck out of here before you make me do something I’m gonna have too much fun doing to fucking regret.” 

It all happens quickly after that. The man shrugs Tangerine off, curses at him, looks about to pick a fight but must see the seasoned glint of violence in his blue eyes because he curses again and leaves in the car that’s been idling in front of your house the entire time. 

Tangerine turns to look at you with a raised eyebrow and he knows it’s a stupid fucking thing to say but he goes ahead and says it anyways because he can’t fucking help himself. “Didn’t mention you had a boyfriend, love.” 

To his surprise, you laugh. Loud. Heartily. It almost makes the tears that have welled up in your eyes disappear, but he can still see them. “That wanker was not my boyfriend.” When he looks at you, silently giving you space to continue, you sigh. “Brother,” you clarify, “He stops by once in a while for money.” 

Tangerine nods and you step into the front door, leaving it ajar for him to follow. “I’m making some tea,” you call over your shoulder, “Care to join me?” 

After that, he starts stopping in regularly. 

At first it’s just tea, sipped across from one another at the small glass table in your breakfast nook. Tangerine greets your cat, settles into his seat, talks about the latest book he’s reading. You try not to smile too big when Shelley, the cat in question, curls up on Tangerine’s lap, nor when he pretends to be cross about fur on his expensive pants. You pour the tea, respond in kind about the things you’re reading, complain a little bit about work and eventually, because he doesn’t offer the information freely, ask what it is he does for a living. 

You’re not sure what you were expecting, but when, with zero hesitation, he tells you he’s a banker you’re a little surprised. 

Soon, tea turns into suppers spent with your feet kicked up on the coffee table, plates balanced on laps—much to Shelley’s dismay as it means Tangerine’s legs are unavailable for snuggling.

You find yourself growing fonder of this man who has carved his way into your heart, made a place for himself amongst the fixtures of your home. He’s got sharp edges, certainly, yet you can’t help but to get caught on them, snagged on the roughness of him. 

After six or seven or eight dinners—you’ve lost count—you realise you want more. You don’t want to say goodbye to him only to retreat to your empty bed and thoughts of his hands and his lips. So when he says he ought to be going, you take a leap of faith. 

“Wait,” you whisper, gathering your nerve, hoping you haven’t grossly misjudged the situation. “Stay?” You voice quivers on the word, makes you sound uncertain, so you steel your nerves and try again. “I want you to stay.” 

It’s the first time you’ve seen Tangerine look flummoxed, look anything less than totally and completely sure of himself. He leans in slightly, clasps his hand over where you’re still holding his arm. “Love,” his voice is low, so dangerously low you might just fall into him straining to hear, “If I stay…” 

His words trail off, but you know what he’s implying. If he stays then you’ve crossed a line there’s no uncrossing. If he stays, he’ll want all of you that you’re willing to give. If he stays, he’ll absolutely ruin you for anyone who might come after him. 

“Stay,” you repeat, pressing your forehead to his. 

So he does. 

[greenwitchcrafts]

July 2024 witch guide

Full moon: July 21st

New moon: July 5th

Sabbats: None

July Buck Moon

Known as: Berry Moon, Blessing moon, Fallow Moon, Feather Moulting Moon, Halfway Summer Moon, Hay Moon, Hewimanoth, Maedmonat, Medow Moon, Moon of Blood, Moon of Calming, Moon When the Chokecherries are ripe, Month of the Ripe Corn, Raspberry Moon, Salmon Moon,Thunder Moon & Wort Moon

Element: Water

Zodiac: Cancer & Leo

Nature spirits: Harvest Faeries & Hobgoblins

Deities: Athena, Cerridwen, Hel, Holda, Juno, Khepera, Lugh, Nephthys, Neptune & Venus

Animals: Crab, dolphin, turtle & whale

Birds: Ibis, starling & swallow

Trees: Acacia, ash & oak

Herbs: Agrimony, hyssop, lemon balm & mugwort

Flowers: Honeysuckle, jasmine, lotus & water lily

Scents: Frankincense & Orris

Stones:  Carnelian, malachite, moonstone, onyx, opal, pearl, ruby, sapphire, spinel, tourmaline, turquoise & white agate

Colors: Blue-grey, green, silver &yellow

Energy:  Childbirth, divination, domesticity, divination, dreamwork, fertility, home matter, meditation on goals/plans, mothers, preparation, relaxation, stress & success

The full Moon in July is called the Buck Moon because the antlers of male deer (bucks) are in full-growth mode at this time. Bucks shed and regrow their antlers each year, producing a larger and more impressive set as the years go by.

• Several other names for this month’s Moon also reference animals & plants

Other Celebrations:

Neptunalia-July 23rd(approximately

The Neptunalia was an obscure archaic two-day festival in honor of Neptune as god of waters, celebrated at Rome in the heat and drought of summer. was one of the dies comitiales, when committees of citizens could vote on civil or criminal matters.

Neptune’s festival (Neptunalia) took place in the heat of the summer when water was scarcest; thus, its purpose was probably the propitiation of the freshwater deity. Neptune had a temple in the Circus Flaminius at Rome; one of its features was a sculptured group of marine deities headed by Poseidon.

Respecting the ceremonies of this festival nothing is known, except that the people used to build huts of branches & foliage(Umbrae), in which they probably feasted, drank, and amused themselves. Ancient calendars describe the days. Entertainment would have probably also included horse racing, with competitors racing round the track & circling ‘turning posts’ (metas) at either end of the Circus.

Sources:

Farmersalmanac .com

Llewellyn's Complete Book of Correspondences by Sandra Kines

Wikipedia

A Witch's Book of Correspondences by Viktorija Briggs

Encyclopedia britannica

Llewellyn 2024 magical almanac Practical magic for everyday living

[s-awturn]

Moon Spell || CS55

summary: They were fated to love someone they hated. There was no spell, no grudge, no curse that could break the bond that united them, doomed to die in the feelings they fiercely nurtured. The Moon had determined it and there was nothing they could do to stop it.

“These violent pleasures have violent ends, and die in their triumph, like fire and gunpowder, which, when they kiss, consume each other. The sweetest honey is disgusting in its own sweetness, and its taste confuses the palate.”

cw: Violence, conflict, soulmates, blood, magic, alternate universe, obscenity, pure filth, chaos, fighting, swearing, intense hatred, love, mention of death, blood.

a/n: I can't believe how long this chapter turned out, I wrote it all after work (in fact I'm posting it while I'm going to work hehehe) I'm not sure if what I wrote turned out well, So be honest when commenting, okay? Okay. Happy reading and enjoy!

starring: werewolf!Carlos x witch!Fem reader

1. we were born to die; | 2. monsters; | 3. war of hearts;

So lift up my body

And lose all control

I'm giving you all

She didn't have time to watch where she was running, her only concern was to keep a large distance between herself and the gigantic wolf that was chasing her. She could almost feel the werewolf's hot breath on the back of her neck and his growls were close enough to make her heart pound in her chest, she jumped over the root of a large chestnut tree before rolling down the cliff, but that didn't stop her from running when she found ground. Y/N didn't even waste time looking back, she didn't want or need to know where the werewolf was, she knew he was still on her trail, there was no place where the witch could hide.

Not with Carlos gripped by a strange frenzy that seemed to cloud all his senses.

She heard his howl, the moon at that moment shone high in the sky, illuminating the gaps between the trees, making the forest even darker and prone to an insane chase.

This wasn't what I was planning for my night, she thought in frustration, holding the hem of her skirts to help her run better. Her dress was filthy — this seemed to be very common when it came to her and Carlos — the branches made tiny cuts on her face and arms, and there was mud drying on her face. Y/N was a mess.

She tripped over a fallen branch and almost fell to the ground. It was by the grace of the Goddess that she managed to regain her balance and continue running.

“I can't let him catch me, I can't" she huffed, trying to keep up the courage and stamina to keep running, the adrenaline strengthening the witch's legs, propelling her forward.

Keep running, little witch, keep running, her instincts said.

— ☽ —

His plans for that full moon night were simple: leave Y/N at Blanca's house and spend the night in the forest, as far away from the little witch as he could. There was no way it could go wrong.

But the way his skin felt itchy, the discomfort growing in his chest and the distance from Y/N made him fall into ruin.

And for that reason, when the Moon rose in the sky, Carlos found himself taking the opposite path through the forest, he followed the trail that led to his sister's house, the distinctive scent of lavender and lemon filled his lungs, further stirring the raging beast within him. It didn't matter if Carlos didn't agree, so what if he and Y/N hated each other? The wolf inside the man wanted the witch and he would have her that night. Even if he had to subdue Carlos' body to do so.

Carlos literally knocked down the door of Blanca's house and the woman understood that it was no longer her brother there, the golden eyes revealed that the wolf was in command and nothing could stop the beast from getting what he wanted.

Blanca knew that Y/N wasn't ready yet for whatever she and Carlos had, but there was no physical way to stop her brother's wolf from invading the small room where she was.

“Run Y/N!” She screamed, but it was useless because at that point, the witch was already deep in the forest, running desperately. That only encouraged the werewolf even more, he abandoned the hut and transformed into the air, running after his sweet prey between the trees. If the brightness of the moon combined with Carlos's wide vision didn't make it clear where she was running, her smell mixed with the aroma of fear would tell which direction she was taking. Her scent made the werewolf salivate to the point that it ran between his sharp canines, dripping down his jaw, the wolf wanted to drown in the witch's sweet perfume, he wanted to mark the silky skin, bite the soft flesh and make Y/N what she was born to be: his mate.

The werewolf could reach Y/N at any moment, but he wanted to see the witch run, he wanted to hear her heartbeat, the smell of the witch's adrenaline and fear perfuming the air. He heard her rasping breathing, her running footsteps, she could barely see where she was running, minutes before she rolled down an entire cliff, but that didn't stop her from continuing to run.

Meters later, she tripped over a root and almost fell, and this persistence made the wolf even more eager for her. Y/N ran until she stopped in a cave hidden under a handful of trees that few knew about.

So convenient…

Her heart echoed in the cave, the wolf licked its teeth, hungry as it trotted towards where its prey was trying to escape. The cave was large and there were several chambers inside it, an opening in the cave's high ceiling allowed the moon to illuminate the cyan-colored waters of the natural pool there. The cave had two exits, one of which was blocked by the werewolf and the other, which led to the stream, was submerged.

There was no way Y/N could run away from him and that drew a deep growl from the wolf. She walked backwards until she hit the rough stone wall, she was alert, the witch thought of ways to escape from there, to escape the werewolf's dominant and persecuting energy, she scanned the entire cave, looking for exits. Y/N was too nervous to summon her own magic and defend herself.

Only the golden glow of the werewolf's eyes could be seen from where he was, Y/N would not see the werewolf taking control of the man's body, at most you could hear the sound of bones breaking before they were rebuilt again.

“You can't run away from me, little witch” he said, walking towards her, Y/N pushed herself further against the rocks, but nothing changed, she remained in the same place. Carlos' naturally deep voice took on a huskier, more animalistic and open tone, he wanted his voice to echo.

“S-Stay away from me!” She shouted, warning him. “D-Don’t come any closer!”

He laughed, a deep laugh that seemed to come from deep within his chest.

“You'll never keep me away from you, little witch...” he replied, crossing the moonlight, making Y/N sure that Carlos wasn't in control of his own body, not completely. “You are mine and I like to keep what belongs to me close to me... Even if I have to hold it between my teeth”

And with that, he smiled, showing his large fangs, the result of divided dominance, the witch's heartbeat increased and the damp smell of her sweat was present.

“You won't get what you want from me," she said, her trembling voice and wide eyes conveying no firmness, the wolf hummed in contentment.

“You will gladly give me whatever I ask of you, little witch” and suddenly he was glued to her, Y/N screamed in fright as she felt him so close. Close enough that they could both feel each other's heat, close enough for the werewolf to grab her jaw and lift Y/N's chin, making room so he could slide his nose over the delicate skin of her neck, sending strong shivers down the girl's spine. “Fucking good” Y/N whimpered when she heard him growl and gasped in fright as she felt his tongue lick a stripe from the base of her neck to her chin.

She tried to pull away, but the werewolf held her waist, keeping her trapped between him and the wall.

“Shh, quiet,” he growled, nibbling on her ear.

“Let me go!” She tried to pull away, struggling in his grip. The wolf smiled fiercely as she lost the rhythm of her own breathing.

“I’m starting to think you like running away from me, little witch...” the man retorted “Always running, running away... Do you like me chasing you, little witch?” he grabbed her hips and made her ride his thigh, which Y/N didn't even feel was between her legs. She bit her lip until she tasted blood on her tongue, feeling a strange tremor shake her insides. She had never felt this before, it was strange and warm. Her whole body heated with it.

Y/N heard the growl close to her ear, and moved her hips as per his command.

“Holy hell” his husky voice made her shiver even more “your smell is driving me crazy, little witch”

A shred of consciousness cleared the witch's clouded mind and she took advantage of the moment to run away from him, However, it was not even able to reach the edge of the natural pool, because it was knocked down aggressively, but did not reach the ground. The wolf made sure she fell on his body.

“I told you, little witch, I won’t let you get away, ever,” he said before pushing his mouth against Y/N’s, swallowing her complaints, her frightened little scream. He devoured her mouth hungrily, a growl grew in his chest as he tasted her, still sweet and mystical like her own owner; he bit and sucked her lips until Y/N moaned, resting her hands on his bare chest. The werewolf devoured every breath she had and when they pulled away, she was flushed, her lips swollen and her eyes fluttering, completely surrendered. The sight made the wolf even more eager to take her entirely, he wanted her badly, he was hungry for her and needed more.

I needed to devour her as soon as possible.

“Too perfect, little witch” he slid his thumb over Y/N’s swollen lip, before kissing her again, and this time, he made sure to slide his hands over her body, undoing the fragile seams of the coarse dress. She had never been kissed and didn't expect her first kiss to be like that, intense, feral and wild. She was being swallowed by her own sensations, she felt his sharp nails tearing the fabric of her clothes, his mouth kissing her with such passion, she didn't know what to focus on, everything was extremely overwhelming.

Her back arched spontaneously as she felt his fingers trail up her spine, and the wolf stopped kissing her, nibbling on her shoulder and the skin of her collarbone, leaving sweet bite marks, making her gasp. Her body responded so well, so easily.

“I’m going to devour you, love,” he growled, “I’m going to eat you whole, and when I’m done, there won’t be a single piece of you left that I haven’t enjoyed.”

He laid her down beneath him, stretched out on her torn clothes. Her chest rose and fell so fast he could barely keep up. Y/N tried to cover her naked body, but her hands were held by him, high above her head, firmly against the floor. Shame heated her cheeks, for the creature who controlled Carlos' body looked at her as if she were… Divine, a goddess, a sacred woman he wanted to worship in every way.

“I don’t care if you run away, because I will always find you, little witch, but I won’t allow you to hide from me, don’t hide from me what belongs to me, ever again.” the deep and dominant voice sounded double in her ears, giving Y/N the certainty that Carlos seemed to share control of the body with his beast. There was no biologically possible way for his heart to be beating faster than it was at that moment.

He scraped his nails across her skin, gently enough that she let out a soft little moan, and her voice rose in pitch as his thumb circled her sensitive nipple.

“See how well your body responds to me, little witch? Why do you insist on denying us this, huh?” he questioned, seeing the sensitive spot harden under his touch, and taking her by surprise, he covered the girl's nipple with his mouth, sucking until she screamed, so loud and sweet that it shook his body with satisfaction. Y/N felt like she was on fire, Carlos sucked like a baby as he made his calloused fingers slide down her torso, making gentle circles as he went down, she grabbed his hair and whimpered, her body moving without control, an unexpected chill shook the muscles of her belly when she felt his fingers below her navel.

Carlos groaned in delight as he sniffed the air and felt the scent of her arousal hit him like a punch. He licked and bit her nipple one last time.

“So sweet, I’m going to love devouring you, my little witch,” he cooed and growled loudly as he touched her between her thighs and felt her wet folds soak his fingers. “Oh love…you're dripping on my fingers, hell”

Y/N could barely understand what happened, when she realized she was kneeling and Carlos was under her, digging his fingers into her thighs and making the witch sit on his mouth.

Whatever she had felt before was nothing compared to the sensation of having Carlos' mouth in such a forbidden place. He licked her, sucked that sensitive spot that not even she knew about, Y/N trembled so much that she rested her hands on his hard chest and moved her hips involuntarily.

“By a thousand demons” he grunted, moving as little away from her as possible, still eating her pussy hungrily. “Keep it up, little witch,” he ordered, tightening his fingers on her legs.

She lost her stability and fell when Carlos scraped his teeth on that same previously unknown spot, causing a stronger tremor than before, she felt a knot forming in her stomach.

Carlos didn't stop until she was completely dismantled, she was shaking and moaning in such a delicious, attractive way, Carlos felt his cock hard to the point of hurting. He licked her a few more times until Y/N felt the knot violently come undone. Her moans diminished until they became mere whimpers; Carlos licked every drop of her essence.

From the moment he had tasted her, seen Y/N fall apart for him, he couldn't let her go, not when he found himself addicted to her annoying little witch.

She breathed deeply, tired and sleepy, but her conscience was very awake, throwing in her face that all that hatred was nothing more than incubated desire. She wanted Carlos, maybe she had wanted him since before the incident at the creek, maybe she had started to love him when she saw him come between her and her father, her people. There was no point in denying it.

Carlos handled her body with care and a certain amount of brutality, he continued biting and marking her skin, he wanted everyone to know that Y/N was his, even if she screamed that she wasn't.

She slowly opened her eyes, finding the golden irises in front of her, she hadn't even noticed that she was lying down again.

“Open your eyes, little witch,” he commanded, spreading her legs until she was exposed to him, spreading her soaked folds with his fingers, grunting at how wet she was.“I want you to watch me eat you, as I fuck you until you accept that you are mine... And you will, love... I will make you scream it”

He slowly inserted his fingers into her tight hole, enjoying her resistance to receiving his fingers.

“Relax, little witch,” he ordered, bringing his other hand to her clitoris. Y/N opened her eyes desperately and grabbed his hands. He sank his fingers even deeper, making her sigh. “That's right love, relax for me” he kissed her.

Deep down, she had actually expected more violence, more brutality from the werewolf, but she was willing to worship it completely.

“Carlos...” Y/N moaned, and moved her hips against his hand, wanting more than he was willing to give and well, he would give her everything. “Please.”

“Alright, alright little witch.” He pushed her fingers in again, and she cried out, digging her nails into him. “What do you want, my witch?”

She felt the tears burning at her eye line, that knotted feeling was growing again and Carlos didn't stop, the werewolf accelerated, her inner walls squeezing him in the best way possible.

He trembled just thinking that in a few minutes, his cock would be crushed there. He leaned over her, licking Y/N's tears. "Tell me how you feel, love, tell me.”

She opened her mouth, but no sound came out, her eyes closed tightly and she tried to think, but all her mind could think about were those fingers going in and out of her, the thumb massaging her. By the Goddess, she was about to explode, Carlos handled her body like dough, drawing out reactions from her that he never thought he would know.

He continued licking her skin, trying to absorb more of her taste, smelling her, Carlos felt the scent of lavender and lemon gain darker, more intense hues. Slowly his scent seeped into Y/N's skin, marking her as his.

“Carlos!”

“Yes, little witch?”

“P-Please”

“Of course, little witch,” he said, slowly opening his fingers inside her, her untouched muscles clenching against him. Her knot came undone again, and if she hadn’t been on the floor, Y/N would have collapsed hard. He gave her a few more kisses on the mouth, humming at how slowly she responded to the kiss. “Open your eyes and look at me, little witch, I want to see those pretty eyes while I fuck you, while I watch you come undone on my cock...”

The werewolf's eyes flickered between brown and gold, his nails grew a little, sinking into her flesh, drawing a hiss of pain that didn't move him. Carlos held his cock by the base, His hard cock was completely slick with precum, he pumped it a few times, panting roughly before rubbing the irritated head against her wet folds. “Quiet, very quiet.” he ordered hoarsely, man and creature interconnected by the intention of venerating their companion's body as if she were a saint, a sacred presence. “I'll make it hurt just once, little witch, and then...” he licked her mouth with desire, staring into the witch's cloudy eyes "then I will make you explode with pleasure, my witch"

He pushed himself against her, hitting the bottom of Y/N's pussy. She screamed, bursting into tears, it felt like Carlos was ripping her apart, he held still until she stopped whimpering and dig your nails into his shoulders.

“F-Fucking perfect,” he grunted, holding her waist. “So good.”

When her body got used to that invasion, Y/N undulated her hips, moaning at the act, because she could feel Carlos completely inside her. Very slowly, Carlos moved away from her until only his fat head remained, embraced by the girl's pussy. She tried to make him come back, but he remained still, enjoying the spasms and the grip she had around him. And then he pushed back in hard, making her scream.

“Carlos!”

So he began a punishing rhythm against her, slow enough to make her eager and hard enough to draw out those cute little screams. The wet sound of their hips slapping together, of her moans, of his grunts was obscene, dirty and tempting, dragging the young girl into the limbo of her own pleasure. It looked the same as the ones Carlos had given him before, but it was so different.

She scratched the back of his neck hard enough to make him groan in pleasure. Y/N was squeezing him like a fist, and he knew he would cum soon. He couldn't take it anymore, not when she was better than any wet dream he'd ever had.

When his orgasm was about to happen, he licked the junction of her shoulder and her neck, so that at the height of her orgasm, Carlos sank his fangs in that very place, in that way, sealing the bond between the two. Carlos was the companion of a witch, and no force on Earth, in Heaven and even in hell could undo. Never.

Her eyes rolled back and Y/N's magic exploded like a supernova, the feel of Carlos' fangs on her skin making her orgasm stronger, more intense. She swore she could die right there and would accept death as a friend, but Carlos would never allow it.

Her emotions simplified and still in the lethargy of her orgasm, she felt another wave rising, drowning her senses and taking her deep, Carlos was about to cum too. His orgasm driving hers, taking her back to that limbo once again.

Thick strands of cum painted her insides, which still clenched around him. Carlos rested his forehead on hers, watching his little witch's eyes shine with her magic, Y/N shone and she noticed how the brown and gold mixed so well in his irises.

“I still hate you” she said tiredly.

“Well,” he kissed the corner of her mouth, that deep voice making it clear that the werewolf had not given in, “then I have no choice but to fuck that hate out of you, little witch… We still have a whole night ahead of us” he smiled evilly, slowly withdrawing inside her, watching his sperm leak out.

The witch gave an arrogant smile “you can try, mutt”

— ☽ —

He threaded his fingers through her hair, pulling her until she was bent over, there was no more gentleness and care, only wild need and raw desire. She had bite marks on her shoulders, belly, waist, breasts and even her ass. She had moaned sweetly every time Carlos had pressed his teeth into her flesh. She moaned louder and louder every time his big palm hit her buttocks. The pure and untouched girl from hours ago was lost somewhere, giving way to the scandalous little witch; the werewolf loved every moan, every plea, he wanted her as addicted to him as he was to her.

"I-I c-can't take it anymore" she cried, resting her head on his shoulder, moaning when she felt Carlos kiss his mark on her shoulder.

“I said you would give me one more, and you will... You will give me everything I ask of you, little witch.”

She dug her nails into his thigh, enjoying every stroke his cock made inside her.

— ☽ —

He leaned against the edge of the natural pool, keeping himself close to his chest, since they finally got tired, Y/N remained quiet, receptive to his touch, of course, but introspective. And that wasn't the reaction he wanted from her after what they did.

“What's bothering you, little witch?”

“You're a werewolf. I'm a witch…”

He pinched her cheeks, turning her lips into an adorable pout “Yes, and we belong to each other now, I will kill anyone who threatens you, whoever it is” and kissed her, releasing her cheeks.

He didn't need to hear it, he knew she thought the same. Not even the reflected feelings needed to show him that.

“I think I have no choice but to accept it, from what I'm seeing.”

“Smart little witch, she understood things correctly” he said and began to wash her body, appreciating the marks spread across Y/N, everyone would know that they were definitely together and there was nothing to do.

And from that moment on, the pleasant silence that surrounded them was replaced by shouts calling for justice and Catholic prayers.

Villagers.

Neither of them were quite fit for it, her clothes were ruined and Carlos had none. But that wasn't important, one look between them was enough to understand what needed to be done. Carlos morphed into the big dark brown wolf and ran out of the cave, Y/N placed her hands on the ground, evoking the old magic that allowed her to access the powers of her ancestors, she needed to protect that land, protect the people who lived in the forest and mainly, protect Carlos.

It didn't take long for the souls of those who had died lost among the trees to respond to his call. It didn't take long, Y/N just pointed and the wandering specters headed towards the invaders. The smell of grass and burning flesh reached her nose, making her mourn for the fauna that was dying due to human ignorance, The screams of hatred were replaced by dread and fear. If the humans wanted to fear her, Y/N decided to give them a reason.

A little over half an hour later, Carlos returned to the cave, there was blood on his fur and a piece of arm in his mouth, he looked fearsome like a hellhound, ready to drag any unfortunate soul to the depths of the underworld.

Not caring about her nakedness or the blood on him, Y/N hugged the wolf, grateful that he had returned safe and sound; it wasn't long before she felt strong, possessive arms around her.

“I almost didn't have to kill them, you managed to scare them to death with those specters" he laughed.

“Well... It was just a little trick...” she shrugged.

“They’ll be back,” Carlos said and she knew it.

“Then let's kill them before that, they call us monsters and demons, it's time we do justice to the name” she said, looking at him seriously, but received a smile from him, a cruelly excited smile.

“You are a cunning, wicked little thing, little witch,” he cupped her face in his hands, “and that makes me want you again and again.”

She didn't even respond, she just offered her lips to him, which he gladly accepted.

[whorekneecentral]

The Smell Of The Holidays

Kostas Tsimikas x Fem!Reader

Warnings: friendly neighbourly chats, sweet moments with kos and his puppies, a heartfelt thank you, a little crush from kos's end, some tattoo exploring, sexual tension, it's giving sub!kostas for a minute there, thigh riding - it's more dry humping than thigh riding but I digress, oral (f!receiving), 0.2 seconds of fingering, finger sucking, penetrative sex (p in v), creampie.

Word Count: 3,565

Author's Note: I think this is my favourite and the longest fic so far. dedicated to the president of the kostas fan club, miss ivy @curiousthyme <333

merry smutmas series

--

You over baked for your niece’s holiday bake sale so you do the neighbourly thing and share with your neighbour, Kostas and his two puppies.

Your brother was a single father, he’s a busy guy that he works long hours and you help out with your niece in whatever way you can. Your brother can’t bake to save his life so when she comes home saying she needs treats for the bake sale, he calls you.

You were baking treats for her holiday bake sale; cupcakes, cookies, brownies, lemon bars - you name it, you baked it.

The bake sale was for the whole school, they were raising money for a charity who helped underfund kids, or something along the lines. With your niece's missing tooth, she didn't annunciate the best.

You have been baking all day and it wasn't until you turned around to set the final tray of cookies down that you realized you had run out of counter, dining room, coffee table and couch space. The cooled and frosted cookies, brownies and cupcakes were sitting on the couches in their trays, the ones that were needing to be frosted were on the tables and you had the hot pans on your counters.

Carefully, you shifted a few things around to set the hot pan down, leaving it to cool.

Your hands on your hips, you looked around; you've baked yourself into a conundrum.

It wasn't until you heard the barking next door that you realized what you could do with all of the extra treats that you were baked. You finished frosting the last of what needed to be frosted before packing them away neatly into their trays and loading them into your car.

You went back inside and picked up a small tray that you had set aside specifically for your next door neighbour, Kostas.

He was kind and sweet and kept to himself most of the time. He had two puppies, who weren't really puppies but you addressed them as such; Maui and Fuerte. Kostas wasn't home much as he was very busy with his job but every now and then you'll see him in his backyard with his dogs, training or swimming laps or whatever it is that he does out there.

It's a neighbourly hello and a few tummy rubs for the puppies before you head out and go about your day.

You balance the tray with one arm, setting the majority of its weight against your jutted out hip. You knock on the door and wait for someone to answer. There's some barking before the door opens, you can hear Kostas shooing the puppies away to stop them from coming out.

Behind him, you can see into the living room; a massive tree stood tall in the centre by the window, ornaments hung plentiful along the green branches. There's a few other Christmas-related things around the entryway.

"Hey!" He smiles, black sweatpants hanging low on his hips and a white vest that clung to his chest in all the right places; you scolded yourself for gawking at him. "Y/n, right?" He points to you with his finger.

"Yeah," you smiled at him, "I hope I'm not bothering you."

"Not at all," he shakes his head, shifting to stop the dog you know as Maui from coming outside. She poked her head between his legs, looking up at you curiously. "What's up?" He asks, watching as you look lovingly at his puppy.

"My niece is having a bake sale at school and asked me to bake some treats for her and the thing is, I went a little overboard." You laughed. "I realized I made too much, and I figured I would do the neighbourly thing and bring some over for you."

"Oh," he smiles at you, taking the tray that was heavier than it looked from you. "Thank you very much, I was wondering if someone opened a bakery around here. I've been smelling it since this morning."

A soft laugh slipped past your lips as you shrugged. "It got hot with the oven running so I opened the window."

Kostas nods, shifting his leg a bit as Maui tries to wiggle her head away from his legs. You smiled at the dog, peeking over Kostas's left shoulder to see her tugging on a toy with Fuerte.

"The ones with the frosting on it aren't puppy friendly but I put some in there that don't have frosting so you could share with them. There's also a few brownies and other things, I wasn't sure what you like, so I tried to put a mix of everything."

Kostas nods, thinking to himself that it was very sweet of you to consider his puppies when packing the tray. "Was that intentional? You know, catering to the puppies ?"

"Yes but also no. I did intentionally not put frosting on some of them for the pups, but you know kids and their allergies, all the ingredients are safe for the puppies. I made sure to double check."

"Thank you, y/n. I really appreciate it - we're gonna be eating these for the rest of the week." He says, glancing down at the tray. "Would you like to come in?" He steps to the side a bit, and as much as you want to say yes, you don't.

"Unfortunately, I have to get treats over to my brother's house so perhaps another time?" You looked at him, hoping for a yes to your rain check.

"Definitely," he nods. "Thank you again."

"Anytime!" You skipped down the pathway, giggling like a teenager with a crush. Kostas watched from his front door, smiling at you. "Have a good day, y/n!" He calls after you.

"You too, Kos!"

The nickname was something he heard often, mostly from his teammates, but it was the way you said it that made him blush and almost giggled like a school boy with a crush.

Kostas shut the front door and set the tray on his dining room table. As he takes the tinfoil off the top, all he can think about is what he can do to find himself in your presence yet again.

---

A few have gone by since you dropped in at Kostas's place and you had only seen him in passing since then.

You had successfully dropped off the treats for your niece and she called you to let you know that they were a hit. You had gone about your week as normal, tidying up and getting your place ready for the holiday season.

There was a knock on your door, you're a bit confused seeing that you weren't expecting anything or anyone, but you wiped your hands on the side of your shorts and found your way to the front door.

Much to your surprise, it was Kostas at the door; a pleasant surprise that is.

There's a rectangular box in his hand and an envelope on top. One hand on the bottom, and one hand on top to keep them in place as he smiles at you. "Can I come in?"

"Yeah, of course." You nod, stepping aside to let the man in. "I'm sorry about the mess, I was in the middle of tidying up."

Kostas nods as he glances around, trying to spot what mess you were talking about. The entire house looked as if it had been staged, not a single thing out of place.

And you have carefully thought out where to place your Christmas decorations, and Kostas noticed that. Your tree sitting in your living room in a spot that commanded attention, garlands wrapped around all of the railings and ornaments hung on all of the branches. All topped off with a pretty red and green wreath on your front door.

"Where are the babies?" You asked him, shutting the front door as he took his shoes off. "Groomers, sent them to get their holiday clean up. I can't stay long, I just wanted to drop this off." He smiles, following you to the kitchen.

Kostas sets the box on the table, handing the envelope over to you.

"For me?" You asked, taking it hesitantly. "I hope this isn't payment for the stuff I dropped off, because if it is-" "No," he shook his head with a smile, "just a thank you."

You carefully open the envelope, taking a sheet of paper out of it, and unfolding it. There's a few flowers painted across the piece of paper, it was clear that he used the puppies' paws to make the petals of the flowers. Some scrawled handwriting which you assumed belonged to Kostas was in the middle of the page; thank you miss y/n.

"Tell Maui and Fuerte I love their picture," you smiled at him, sticking the page on your fridge with a magnet.

Kostas smiles, watching you. "I'll let them know they made it onto the fridge as well." He joked, watching as you straightened the paper and stuck another magnet on there to keep it up.

You walk over to the table, standing in front of Kostas who's now made himself comfortable in your space. "What's this?"

"A thank you from me, I'm not as artistically skilled as my puppies."

You smiled, opening the box to find a chocolate cake. The brown frosting covered the majority of it, there are a few green and red decorations around the border, resembling mistletoe.

"You didn't have to do all this," you tell him, walking over to get a knife and two plates, as well as forks.

"It's the least I could do." He watches as you cut into the cake, handing a piece over to him. "I took some of the treats into work, the boys say I should've given you more than just a cake." He chuckles, taking a bite as you shut the box.

You nod towards the couch, and Kostas picks up his slice of cake following you, and the two of you sit in comfortable silence. The now empty plates sat on the coffee table as you rambled on about something your niece had told you about the bake sale.

Kostas listened intently, but his eyes wandered. Your shorts and hiked up a bit when you dropped yourself on the couch. You noticed his staring, not mentioning anything but you knew he wasn't fully listening. You pull the hem of your shorts, fixing it back to its original length. Kostas noticed and glanced up at you, his cheeks flustered and red.

"Sorry," he whispers, blushing like a school boy with a crush.

"I don't mind," you whisper.

Kostas hums, his eyes wandering over your legs yet again. He can't help but notice the colourful ink peeking out from under the hem of your shorts. "You have tattoos?"

"A tattoo," you correct him, pulling the hem of your shorts up and over your hip.

Kostas's eyes follow the design from the top of your thigh to just over your hip bone. There's a vine with a trail of flowers scattered along it; roses, lilies, daisies, wild flowers, any and everything in between. There's a lot of intricate details, the lines carefully placed to make it look cohesive and the colours of the flowers complimenting each other.

He hums in appreciation, stopping himself from reaching out to touch it. "It's beautiful." He smiles, glancing up at you. "Is it the only one you have?"

You nodded, laughing. "I was 19.. and drunk."

"You went big for your first time," his eyes meet yours and you can't help but feel that his words have a double meaning.

You shrugged, slouching back in your seat. Your leg crossed over the other and your shorts hiked up a bit more, showing off a few inches of your skin that Kostas was begging to put his hands on.

"Most people say you get addicted, but I just did the one and done."

He hums, gesturing to his arms that were covered in various designs and words. "Case in point."

"Just your arms or you've got more?"

Kostas nods, "my left leg and my ribs, and behind my neck." He lifted his shirt a bit to show you the tattoo on the left side of his ribs - an intricate portrait of what looked to be Adam and God.

Hesitantly, your fingers reached out and traced the shape of the tattoo. Kostas's eyes trailed from your face down to your hand and to your fingers, watching as you carefully outlined the ink along his skin.

"Beautiful," you mumbled and Kostas's cheeks flushed red, watching as you slowly moved your hand away.

He knew you were talking about the tattoo and yet he blushed, as if you had called him beautiful - but in a way, you did. And you meant it.

"Maybe I'll get another one, something small." You tell him and Kostas nods, offering to take you to his guy. Always the first one to offer up help and advice, he can hear Thiago's words in his head.

You look down at his leg, he was in shorts despite the cold winter air that nipped at you any time you opened the door - he had run over from his place after dropping the puppies off. You can see the lower half of his leg, the delicate shading and line work made up a stunning tattoo along his leg, the ink on his thigh peeked out from under the hem of his shorts.

"What's under there?" You nod and Kos's brows furrowed, looking at you for an explanation. "Under where?" He asks, making you giggle. It took him a second to realize why you were giggling but then he too, began to laugh.

You shook your head, "I meant your thigh, what's on your thigh?"

Kostas lets out a sound of understanding, shifting to pull the leg of his shorts up so you could see the tattoo. There's a massive portrait of a lion roaring, it didn't seem like Kostas's taste in tattoos but at the same time, it fit him to a T.

He nervously bites at his bottom lip as your hand rests on his knee, carefully slides up to his thigh. "Is this okay?" You whispered, glancing at him. Kostas nods, not sure if he remembers how to speak or even breathe - it feels as if you had taken all the air out of his body.

Your hand slips further up, leaning into the man in front of you. Kostas glances at your lips, your eyes and back to your lips. He sees your tongue wet your bottom lip, pressing them together.

Just as you were about to speak, Kostas beat you to it; "can I kiss you?"

You smile, "I thought you'd never ask."

His hand reaches for your jaw, holding it gently as if you'd break. Kostas brushes his thumb over your cheek, smiling at you sweetly before closing the gap between the two of you.

It was something out of a movie, you had never felt this way about anyone before. It just made sense; you fit against him as if you were meant to be there all along.

Kostas must have had the same thought, pulling you over and onto his lap, letting you straddle him. His hand slips down your side, resting on your hip. "You're so beautiful."

You can't help the blush on your cheek, you lean down to kiss him once again. You can feel his shorts rubbing along your inner thighs as he pulls you to him, trying to have you as close to him as possible. A hand on his shoulder, rolling your hips slightly to test the waters.

He seems to have gotten the idea; lifting his leg to give you more leverage. Your thighs are slotting either side of his, Kostas's hand rests on your hip, lazily brushing his thumb over your hip bone. He watches closely, listening to every little sound that slips past your lips.

"Kos," you mumbles, and the man perks up. "What is it, love?"

"Want you."

The words barely leave your lips and you're being flipped over, flat on your back before he pulls you by your legs, re-situating you to his liking.

Kostas is careful, pulling your shorts and panties off - they're tossed somewhere behind you. It's an issue for later. He kisses up from your calf, letting your legs rest over his shoulders. He's gentle, calculated - as if he knew exactly what to do, as if he had done it before.

Thighs on either side of his head, you weren't fully against his face but Kostas's hands grip the back of your thighs, pulling you further down. He glances up at you, a wicked smile on his face. "Is this okay?" He whispers into your skin, moving closer to exactly where you wanted him.

You nod, "please." The word comes out a bit more desperate sounding than you'd like but you could care less. You needed him - in every single way.

His hands rested on the back of your thigh, pulling you down flat against his face, his tongue pressed against your slit. 

Your body juts forwards - not only from the pulling but from the feeling of his tongue on you. Reaching forward, your manicured fingers tangle in his hair.

Kos' tongue curled upwards, brushing against your clit and you tug on his hair, something incoherent meets his ears - partly because he was focused on what he was doing but also because your thighs were squishing his face. 

He didn’t care. 

He loved it. 

A soft groan leaves his lips when you tug on his hair, trying to move him a certain way. “That- oh!” Your chest heaves, tugging on his hair to get him to do that again. 

His grip on your thighs would leave marks as would the stubble scratching along the inside of your thighs. He rocked you a bit, pulling you closer as his nose brushed against your clit, his tongue moving down to lap over your cunt.

Kostas glances up, his tongue on your clit and he can’t help but admire the view above him. Your chest heaving, tits spilling out over the black lace over your chest, your head tossed back and eyes fluttering closed as his name falls from your lips like a prayer.

He lets you pull him closer, his nose brushing your clit, replacing his tongue as he moves it elsewhere, his fingers pushing into you slowly. He sits up a bit, fingers curling and pumping in you, your eyes still closed.

His free hand reaches up to hold your jaw, pulling your focus to him. “You’re perfect, did you know that?” He asks and you can barely focus enough to grasp the words he was saying, let alone give him an answer.

“Need you,” you mumble.

“What do you need?” He asks.

“Need you.” You say once more.

He hums, he knows he’s not gonna get much more of an answer from you, he just had to give you what you wanted and Kostas knew exactly what you wanted.

You whimper at the loss of his fingers but passes his fingers over your lips, letting you suck on them for a moment as he shuffles his pants down.

Both of you let out a satisfied sigh when he pushes onto you, your leg pulled up onto his hip and he leans over you. His lips brushes against yours,

Kostas's cock twitches when you clench around him, “oh fuck,” he breathes, forehead against yours. “This pussy was made just for me, hm? Take me so well, my pretty girl.”

He pushes the straps off your shoulders, tits spilling out over the top of the bra. He glances down, letting you wrap your legs around his waist and he leans down to kiss you once more, leaving a trial of marks and sloppy kisses until he reaches your tits.

There’s a faint purple mark between your tits; his new favourite spot.

“You're so pretty like this,” he says, your hips buck, wanting more from him. He can feel you clench around his cock. “Fuck, gonna make me cum, darling.”

“Kos.. please.” You breathe, and he gives in, he can’t help himself; you’ve got him wrapped around your finger. “Want you to fuck me full,” you whisper to him. He shuffles a bit, pulling both of your legs over his shoulders.

The change in position does it; his thrusts sloppy, signalling that he too was close. You feel Kostas cum, your legs dropping off his shoulders as you do.

He's still buried in you when he drops down onto you, landing with an oof. You let out a giggle, your hand passing through his messy hair as he peppers kisses along your shoulder.

The two of you lay there for a while, basking in each other's company and the silence. It hits you; "Kos?"

"Yeah?"

"Aren't you supposed to go get the puppies?"

"Oh crap!" He's pulling himself up, hurrying to get dressed. You take that as your cue to get redressed as well. You figured you'd see him again at some point, not expecting him to grab your hand. "Do you wanna come with me?" He asks, walking with you to the front door.

"Isn't it too early to introduce me to the kids?" You joked, already grabbing your hoodie.

Kostas smiles, "they love you, and.."

"Yeah, same." You smile, the words left unsaid for another time.

---

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