#its finally here!!

[root-clan]

Rootclan. Moon: 0. Prologue.

[cerise-angel]

Smarty

+18 Keys x Reader

word count: 2,955

Keys is a pretty handsome guy. The kind of guy that makes anyone feel at ease just by staring at his hazel, puppy-like eyes. He has a pretty slope nose, cute freckles and small moles on his face and body, soft shiny hair and a perfect smile. Keys knows that he's pretty. He likes to act as if he's completely oblivious to his own charms, adding to the whole shy aloof tech guy persona. He knows the look girls and boys give to him, wanting to eat him up. He likes the attention, even though it still makes him flush at the neck and ears sometimes. He likes the way the girls giggle and offer him help when he has trouble with the printer at his job. He knows the flirty eyes and lingering touches girls give to him when he explains something to them, and how wildly they react and he swallows nervously. He knows the sultry tone of voice they use whenever he's alone with them in an elevator. He likes when they touch his cheeks, talking about how cute he looks with his glasses. Keys knows all of it.

He thinks is funny how you seem to act so untouched by his charming aura. He knows you're not imune to him, he noticed the slightly dazed look on your face whenever he talks to you. How you get fidgety, like a scared kitten, when he sits too close to you in meetings. And his favorite, how you cant keep eye contact, looking away and flushing every time. Keys thinks is cute, the way you avoid him, while also acting as if he's not affecting you at all. But then again, he knows he is.

It's friday, and as usual, the small office is nearly empty. Mouser has already left, with a promise of finishing his coding at home. Millie's desk is on your other side, leaving you between her and Keys. It's a little annoying sometimes, because they chat as if you weren't there, or worse, as if you were some kind of wall that they need to dodge to talk to each other. Other than that is nice. Millie is nice with you, and you consider yourselves to be friends. Keys is nicer, but the way you look at him makes clear you don't consider him your friend. He's in undefined territory, since you want him but don't want him to know it. He obviously has better things, or people, to do.

Millie looks at you smiling and waving, before plugging her notebook off, and leaves the place in quiet steps. She doesn't say anything to Keys, as she usually would, but then you realize its because he's focused on something, big headset on, eyes and nose scrunching in concern. You dont know for how long you stare at his face before he catches you, a mischievous glint to the smile he gives to you.

"What you doing?"

You shake your head before answering, feeling your armpits getting warmer with embarrassment. "Just, hm, Millie just left." Keys nods, taking the headset off, before turning his chair to you. He's still smiling, but is almost boyish now. He gets up walking to your desk, stopping just before his waist can touch your shoulders.

"No, what are you still doing here? Having any trouble?" You look at the slight messed up script on your computer screen. Sheepishly you nod, letting him invade the space between you and your desk. He works in silence, typing fast, the blue light of the screen reflecting in his glasses. You can seem to look away from him, inspecting his face and hair and hands and the lean muscles of his forearms, almost concealed by the rolled up sleeves of his grey shirt. It's almost too much, and you feel embarrassed by ogling him, staring quickly at the pen holder on your desk. If Keys notices it he doesn't show you. He does notices it, though. It takes him a lot of inner strength to not let a satisfied smile appear on his face. Instead, he keeps focused on the screen, catching glimpses of your face reflected in the mirror.

Suddenly Keys stops typing, and runs a hand to his hair. You look at the screen in awe. He smiles at you. "Done." You look up to him ready to thank him for helping you, but with the way he looks at you and the way he looks so handsome just standing in the dim lighting has the words caught up in your throat. You swallow, trying to find focus to speak, but he beats you.

"You're still having trouble aren't you?" You frown, not really understanding what he means. You want to ask him, opening your mouth to do so, but his hands cradle your face, he finds his way to stay between your thighs, and pulls your face gently up, to stare at his blown pupils eyes. You don't know to what exactly you're answering, but you nod your head yes, letting your lips part slowly, your breathing starting to get a little ragged. His hands are soft against your cheeks, a little bit of roughness on the tips of the fingers. Keys smile.

"Do you still need my help?" And now you get it, nodding a little too eagerly, tingling anxiety on your armpits, hands and neck. Keys chuckle at you, shaking his head a little. You feel like you're doing too much and intend to pull away, only for him to bend over and attach his lips to yours. His lips are a little chapped, tasting like coffee and melon bubble gum. He kisses you softly, letting you frustrated when he pulls away. His mouth moves to kiss your eye, your cheeks, the edge of your jaw, and your mouth again. He devours you then. The kiss is passionate, his hand running through your scalp to hold you more firmly, nested on the nape of your neck. You kiss him back urgently, letting him lick inside your mouth, sighing with want. Your hands twitch going to hold him by his shirt. Keys pull away, lingering kisses on your forehead.

"What do you want my help with?" He kisses your temple.

"With the mess between your thighs?" He kisses your nose while smiling.

"With the way you keep looking at me, like im not gonna notice those pretty eyes?" He kisses your jaw, nipping the soft skin. You gasp.

"With the way you ignore me? Hurting me?" You clutch his shirt harder, pulling him to kiss you again. He does, happy with your reaction. He kisses your mouth again, slow and lustful, earning whines from how much you want him. His hands go to your waist, for you to get up off your chair. You pull him harder, too anxious to trust your hands exploring on their own. Keys walks back until he sits down on his chair and pulls you to his lap with ease. You sit, arms tangling on his neck, before kissing him again. He dodges, and your kiss lands on his cheekbone.

"Wanna go to my place or to yours?" You think a little, too dazed by him.

"My house is 5 minutes away." He nods. "Mine is two blocks away."

You smile sheepishly, nesting yourself against his warm embrace. "Yours then." He nods too, looking at you in what seems adoration. "Atta girl."

The walk to his building is unnerving. Keys has his arm thrown lazily on your shoulders, as if this was a usual thing. Your body seems to think the same, and you hug him by the waist before you can think about it. He kisses the tip of your nose for that, a subtle new hint of adoration in his eyes. It's nice being so close to someone that you can smell their perfume, their sunscreen, the gum they're chewing, their sweat. Keys is warm, and you indulge yourself in being in his arms on a chilly evening. You could do this every day. You want to do this every day.

The building doesn't have a doorman, and Keys opens the door to you, making a silly face. He tells you his apartment is on the 8th floor, and so, you two walk to the elevator. His body is still glued to yours, hands holding hands, thighs touching thighs. The moment the elevator door closes, his lips are on yours again. It's soft, not nearly as desperate as before, but just as ardent. You pull him by his waist, locking one of legs between yours. He whines in your mouth when you touch a silver of exposed skin between his pants and t shirt. You want to hear him again. Keys slows you down, kissing you languidly and locking your hands with his. You are about to whine about it, but the elevator opens up. When he pulls back and looks at you, his eyes are a pool of molasses, warm and full of affection and yearning. He smiles while you pout at him. "Easy, tiger."

You giggle and he pulls you along the yellow lightning hallway. You feel giddy and excited, the way you felt when you had your first kiss. He looks so handsome in the dim lightning, the yellow hues only enhancing his tanned skin and caramel locks. You wanna eat him up. When he notices your not so subtle staring he laughs, giving you a quick peck on the cheeks before unlocking the door. Keys' place is quite neat, some mess of books and coffee mugs on the small table. You cant look around much, his lips are on your neck, his hands roaming between your ribcage and waist. When he touches your tits, a barely there, whisper of a touch, you gasp. He seems to like your reaction, grunting against your hair. Walking together you both reach his bedroom, where he turns you on his arms. Keys kisses you, urgently, teeth nipping lip, and suddenly you two are on the bed. You pull away, feeling too anxious now that this is actually happening.

"Keys." He's kissing your neck now, his hands under your shirt, his pelvis in synch with yours. You try again. "Keys, I wan-ah-na talk." He stops immediately, looking up to your face with blown pupils and shiny lips. You cant resist the urge to touch him, cupping his cheeks.

"I like you." He gives you a smirk, one of his hands coming up to stroke your cheek. "I can see that." He gestures to the way your legs are wrapped on his waist, locking him against you. You smile softly.

"No, like, I really like you. I don't want this to be a one time thing. I couldn't bear it." He sighs, and looks a little confused. He catches your hands, and kisses your knuckles. He cups your face then. "Honey, i've been trying to get to you for a long time. I want you for a long time. I wouldn't keep chasing you, if this was a one time thing."

You snort, happy he seems to feel the same as you. "You didnt chase me." He laughs ironically, ducking in to kiss your neck. "I did, you just never noticed."

Before you could keep arguing with him, and probably ruin the mood, his mouth was on yours again, a new intention behind the kiss. You grabbed him by his shirt, pulling him even closer to you. You pull away to kiss his neck, and place his hands on tour tits. He gasps and squeezes them softly, whining when you roll your hips against his. "You're too warm. Lets take this off."

You nod eagerly helping him to pull your shirt off. His comes next, and then your jeans and his jeans. Keys kisses you again, and you remove your bra. He pulls back, sitting on his ankles to watch you almost bare before him. He licks his lips, hands going straight to your tits. He squeezes them, focused on your reactions. He kisses one nipple and then the other before fully attaching his mouth to one of them. His thumb flicks the other, and you start to get impossibly wet. Still attached to your breast, his other hand descent to tease your cunt, pressing your cotton covered clit. You moan, and Keys looks up, smiling with his mouth engulfing your breast. You're getting impatient tugging him, squirming legs while he keeps teasing you. He gives you enough to stay in the halfway between your release, but never enough. Keys adores the way you whine and begs for more.

Finally he pulls your panties down, and licks your cunt. You almost cum just from that, back arching, hands tugging his soft hair. You can feel him smile against you and that only makes you wetter. He looks at you, glasses still on.

"Take them off for me please?" You nod, shaking hands taking his glasses and placing delicately at the bedside table. He licks you again, completely focused on your cunt, licking, kissing, devouring it. Keys presses his fingers at your entrance, and you push yourself against them in a desperate attempt.

"So needy, baby." The condescending tone in his voice and the way he pushes one finger inside, then the other, has you crying, clutching tightly to his sheets. He moves them slowly, testing you. "Can you take more?"

You answer yes panting, and he kisses the skin below your belly button as a reward. He adds a third finger and slowly sets a pace, his mouth glued to your clit. He alternates between licking and kissing your cunt and biting playfully at your thighs. You want him to eat you up, and he does, allowing your pleasure to flood through your senses, leaving you with ragged breaths and shaking limbs. Keys seems satisfied when he lays his head on your stomach, his hands caressing the sides of your ribs. He smiles lazily, pure bliss in his eyes, and you smile back, reaching to pet his hair.

"Didn't know you were this skilled in girls department, Mr. Keys." He laughs, a mischievous glint in his eyes. He climbs on top of you, his cock poking close to your cunt. You feel hot all over, and in a bold move, you grab his butt. Keys gasps and feigns a shocked expression before kissing your lips.

"Wanna be inside you." He says softly, before hiding his face between your neck and shoulder. You think is adorable, how he was just between your legs making you moan desperately, and now he seems shy about wanting to have you. You pull his face gently, kissing the tip of his nose. "Then be inside me."

He wastes no time, pushing his boxers down and hurriedly lining himself with you. You feel the air leave your lungs when he sinks in you, it's a nice burning stretch. "Jesus-f-fuck Keys!"

He whimpers and his hands grip you harder. "Sorry, sorry baby. So so sgood, feels so good." Keys starts slowly, allowing your body to get used and to feel all of him. Even though it's still burning, you need more, so you snap your hips against his. He groans, fucking you harder, meeting your hips in synch. Keys brings your legs up his shoulders, allowing him to feel you deeper, to fuck you deeper. His eyes never leave yours, and the way his face scrunch up, every time he fills you entirely, is enough to leave you a whimpering mess. He's close to his release and the soft babbling of how good you feel, how perfect is your pussy, how you look so pretty underneath him has you on the brink of your orgasm too.

Keys bends a little to reach your mouth with his own, and you lose all control, engulfing his body in a warm embrace of arms and legs and kisses. He keeps kissing you, swallowing your cries and slowing down. "Where do you want me, baby?" Everywhere. You want him under your skin, between your ribs, close to your heart. "In me, please." He grunts, rolling his hips slowly, making you mewl. "So polite, so good to me, so, so pretty, such a pretty little face, such a pretty little cunt."

You gasp, and Keys keeps fucking you slowly, steadily, focused on how you feel wrapped around him. You hold him tightly, still on your post climax haze, and he spills inside you. He collapses on top of your body, hands finding rest on your sides. His right hand fetches yours, and the lazy smile on his face when you squeeze his fingers between yours is enough to end all wars. Keys kisses your sternum, your throat, your chin and finally your lips. Is soft and languid, your legs finally resting on the mattress instead of locking his body closer to yours. He smiles between kissing, his hand now caressing your cheeks. "I quite like you, you know." You smile, so happy it almost hurt your cheeks. "I quite like you too." Keys rolls to the side, pulling you to lay beside him. A small blanket is throw over you but you're too focused on Keys' warmth and soft pine smell to notice. He kisses your mouth, nipping softly on the flesh before hugging you closely and dozing off to sleep.

[snowimatsu]

Matsuinu Land is available to download!

IOS LINK / QooApp (Android) LINK

[itsflipperdips]

"I'll be letting you do anything around here, But, I better not see you getting in trouble or do any shenanigans got it??"

"Pshh! I'll be doing alright rather than doing something stupid"

"Now that's over with-"

"Huh?-"

Do they really have to forget to bring their phone again...

A few hours later-

"Heheh! Found this little app called..'Tumblr' and man! This really sounds fun! And mostly saw some others making an askblog so I made one for myself as well for fun of course! Hope to see y'all there!" >:)

(OOC: Yup, it's here! >_< kind of excited to see some interactions with my Dw oc- and here's the askblog ⬇️)

[gambitsheart]

an unnamed lawrence gordon analysis piece

summary: just a gutwrenching character analysis of lawrence gordon and his grief and guilt over the events of saw 2004. proceed with caution /lh

word count: 1.5k

content: no major warnings!! second person perspective from lawrence's perspective. enjoy!

-

you told yourself this was the end of this, that you were done with all this nonsense. that last time was the last time you would step out onto the balcony and into the unforgiving cold at half past midnight,

cigarette in hand, lamenting.

although, you didn’t have much of a reason to be mourning the man that you yourself had left to die,

no, you didn’t have a very good reason at all.

and it had been nearly a decade by now anyway.

at least, what you thought might’ve been a decade. you’d spent so much of your time throughout the years in this same routine that you weren’t really sure exactly how long it had been.

not that it mattered much anyway,

because the last time was never the last time,

no matter how many times you said it would be.

you are no stranger to grief or death,

and you are no stranger to this pattern

this brutal, unforgiving pattern of..

well, you weren’t really sure what to call it

all you knew, really, was the bitter taste of a cigarette you’d long since quit when you first met adam stanheight,

and the even more bitter taste of what could have been.

you weren’t entirely sure what it was about him that was so special to you.

you’d met in an old dingy bathroom in the middle of an abandoned warehouse,

shackled to old pipes, meant to kill each other,

so, what could there possibly have been about this manic, anger riddled, bitter boy you’d met in the worst of circumstances, that you just couldn’t let go of?

you find yourself asking yourself this question more often than not,

when you’re staring mindlessly out into the abyss from your balcony,

fiddling with a cigarette you’d been holding for god knows how long, but never smoked.

what was it, what was it really, about this boy you knew for a few hours,

that you just couldn’t let go of?

maybe, it was his attitude.

in your line of work, you seldom had the chance to meet someone with such a devil may care, reckless abandon attitude,

and usually it would have put you off,

but not with adam.

maybe, it was his body.

although you’d never been one for looks, you couldn’t deny that adam stanheight had been the most beautiful boy you’d ever laid eyes on.

maybe, it was his voice.

to many others, you were sure it might come off as annoying, what with his voice being what you would have otherwise described as pitchy had it not been that it was adam. yes, you were sure many people would write him off as annoying.

but not you.

no, not at all.

you’d heard many voices in and out on a daily basis for years,

some of them shrill and overbearing,

some of them monotone and boring,

some of them smooth and charming,

some of them deep and confident,

but none of them quite as sweet as adam stanheight’s.

maybe, it was his compassion.

sure, he came off as aggressive and uncaring at times,

maybe he even came off as cold and pompous a few times,

and maybe he wanted you to think he didn’t care,

maybe he had planned on killing you in that room,

but he didn’t.

no, in fact, adam stanheight hadn’t wanted to kill you at all,

even from the beginning, he was so clearly fighting a battle you knew was impossible for him to win.

you knew the circumstances, you knew his fate even before your tape had finished playing.

but still, he tried.

he comforted you the best he knew how in a situation that seemed hopeless.

maybe, just maybe,

it was none of these things.

no, not quite.

maybe, just maybe,

none of this had mattered at all,

not in that moment,

not until after you had left that bathroom and he was long gone.

maybe, just maybe,

it was the way he had felt in your hands.

it was a brief moment,

a fleeting moment,

yet, one that would never flee your mind,

no matter how many times you tried,

and trust me,

you’ve tried.

tried to forget the stinging feeling of his nails digging into your skin, begging to hold on, just for a little while longer.

tried to forget the mindless motion of your thumb brushing over what would have otherwise been his perfectly soft skin had it not been for those circumstances.

tried to forget the lack of distance between the both of you.

tried to forget the feeling of his laboured breath against your cheek.

tried to forget the burning hot tears rolling down his cheeks and onto your own hand.

tried to forget just how perfect he had felt, even in the most dire situation.

tried to forget, that no matter how much you wished him back,

no matter how much you hated yourself for leaving him in that god awful bathroom,

no matter how many nights you spent sobbing your life away, cigarette in hand,

begging him to come back,

that adam stanheight was not coming back.

you would never feel the perfect warmth of his skin on yours again,

you would never see those perfectly desperate eyes staring deep into yours again,

you would never know what it was like to truly touch adam stanheight,

to love him,

to give him the life he deserved,

to tell him that he was enough.

you would never know who adam stanheight was, not really.

hell, you only knew his last name from your mentor’s notes.

you didn’t even know how old he was when he died.

you didn’t know his favourite colour,

or his favourite bands,

or how he liked his coffee in the morning,

or if he even liked coffee.

you didn’t know if he preferred cats or dogs,

or if he was allergic,

you didn’t know his favourite food,

or what position he slept in at night.

you didn’t know what exactly it was he did for work,

or what his dream job had been.

you didn’t know his parents names,

or if he had siblings,

if they fought like typical siblings.

you didn’t know if he’d ever planned on having kids,

or what his plans were for the future,

if he might have any friends,

or a pet,

or a hobby he really enjoyed.

the more you thought of it,

you didn’t know jackshit about adam stanheight, not really.

but what you did know, you’d fallen so deeply in love with.

you knew his name was adam.

you knew he was around 5 feet 8 inches in height.

you knew he had striking green eyes and tousled brown hair.

you knew he fidgeted when he was nervous, specifically his fingers.

you knew he wanted to fix his relationship with his parents.

you knew he had a recent ex girlfriend, that she'd broken up with him.

you knew he watched a lot of movies, mostly sci-fi or action based on his reaction to waking up with no idea where he was.

you knew he was a photographer.

you knew he didn’t make great money.

you know that he did what he did just to live.

you know that he deserved to live.

you know that those were the screams of a man that wanted to live.

you know that he won.

you know that he was too young to die.

you know that it should have been you left in that room.

you know that you broke your promise.

you know that you were one of the last people to see him alive.

you know that he fell off the face of the earth without a trace.

you know that adam stanheight tried his best.

yes, that’s exactly what he did.

adam stanheight did his best,

and still, he died alone in that room, exactly where you’d left him.

even after all these years, you’re sure that not only did adam stanheight die of starvation and dehydration, he died of these things wondering why.

why had you left him there?

why had you promised him you’d come back if you weren’t going to keep it?

why had you given him a space in which he felt okay to be himself, for once in his absolutely pathetic life, only to rip it away, just like that?

to be entirely honest, you didn’t even have the answer to these questions, no matter how many nights they kept you awake, carving themselves into the back of your brain.

you weren’t entirely sure you wanted the answers anyway.

you’d given enough time to these thoughts,

lord knows you have.

one in particular, though, keeps the gears in that wretched brain of yours turning, even more so than they already do.

the sickening thought that you, dr. lawrence gordon, are the reason adam stanheight is dead.

you are the reason that he never got to live his life,

that you were both deprived of a safe place within each other,

that it is nobody’s fault but your own, and you have absolutely nobody else to blame but yourself.

[hinamie]

I don't want to regret the way I lived

[icantbotherwithusernames]

oh, whatever. here, have my fav gf fanart i’ve done

this was made back in october, but i still very much like it so imma put this here as well.

[stealingpotatoes]

this is a real canon scene that happened they just forgot to put it in the movie (real) (my toaster told me)

[chloesimaginationthings]

Happy one year anniversary to this FNAF post,,

[clumsypuppy]

wait for me

[tizzymcwizzy]

HAPPY HALLOWEEN!! i hope you get to eat a lot of candy and watch a scary movie if you celebrate :D

[antlersarchives]

𝐬𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐥𝐢𝐯𝐞

one-shot

bo chow x reader

summary - wandering on alone in the deep of the Mississippi Delta wasn't a favoured thing, but nor was it an uncommon one. some carefree few would end up along that track from time to time, and their consequence? the last path they'd find themselves walking down in the dead of night with enough living breath to carry them. those damn creatures of the night..

requested by: anonymous 💗

warnings; smut, 18+, vampirism, canon-typical violence, mild gore/violence, bloodplay, stalking, southern gothic erotica, biting, restraint, oral sex (r!receiving), pinv, worship kink, dirty talking, soulmates and soul tied, finding a mate, consensual, 1930s southern history, second person pov.

a/n: based on the song 'scared to live' by the weeknd because when I was thinking of this fic, this is what came up and I thought it was gorgeous,, also thank you to the many peeps who reached out and asked for this!! and yes I added the line between Stack and Mary because DAMN. i hope you enjoy, it might need some tweaks, but requests and comments are welcome and please let me know what you think!

w/c: 5.6k

It was unusual walking around this late at night. Especially alone; at least that’s what you’d been told.

Deep down in the heart and heat of the Mississippi Delta, right beside the marshes and desolate land, there was a calmness in the stillness of the earth, everything full of life and promise, only the devil creeping around the corner to take back what was his. And that’s what you clung to, no matter how much your mama would tell you otherwise, that the dangers out there are too much to cope with, or how the children back in your schoolhouse days would spread rumor; you always found yourself right back here. 

Alone.

The night was especially still tonight, the darkness closing in tighter than usual under a cloudless sky. The only light came from a couple of flickering lanterns outside a dim Juke Joint, guiding your path as you walked.

On the porch of the joint, two old-timey musicians sat pouring their hearts into the music they created, without a care in the world, frozen in time, they could forget the industrialisation of the world around them. One man played a harmonica, his weathered hands cradling it with care. The soulful, fuzzy notes wrapped around you, a comforting urge to keep moving forward despite the shadows surrounding you.

Your feet seemed to carry you effortlessly through the opening of the wood, drawing deeper in as you looked behind you one last time, swaying with each step as the music faded into the distance. Heading to the only home you knew without a destination - your own company.

A few twigs crunched beneath your feet as you walked, and the odd branch creeping up on you, the left of you the bayou laid still, untouched - and to your right, the final twinkle of streetlights, was the edge of town, just before they turned off completely. Now, you’d never seen anyone else cross this path; by this point you’d think you owned it simply because you seemed the only one daring or reckless enough to walk it on your own- and you had heard both from just about anyone.

But this time was different.

All kinds of things were catching your eyes, something not ordinary. Snakes, alligators, even the nearest flock of herons that waded over the water, standing as tall as a small child. But that wasn’t it, it wasn’t innocence that followed you, and there was enough life and nature around you to tell you that, whatever it was, it wasn’t living.

Your mind stopped wandering at rustling that came from a bush behind you and you turned on your heel, the soil beneath you shifting with a sigh, and the rustling stopped. You halted, squinting your eyes at all around you, from the floor to the tops of the trees - nothing. 

A pair of wings fluttered out before you could blink, hurtling toward you in one swift motion and you backed up into a tree beside you, gasping. You winced at the roughness, rubbing at the start of what would soon be a bruise. Taking a deep breath, you straightened yourself and kept on moving, cursing yourself for even being startled in the first place. It was nothing but a little house finch - your grandfathers old illustration books could have told you that, and you took your life studying this place, your home, this wasn’t anything to be worried about. 

However your gut told a different story. You slowed, taking note of a blossom tree, the shadows of purple flowers,  you traced the lines of the stems, putting your focus on that instead of-

“Shit-“ A voice rang out from the darkness ahead of you, out of sight, and you brushed the leaves out of your hand, swatting the branch away, crouching a little beside them. A figure stumbled out from the bushes, a man, dusting off his shoulders and catching his fall he stood up straight on the side of the path. He looked around for a moment mumbling something to himself, wiping something from around his mouth - you couldn’t quite make it out but whatever is was was dark, thick.

The breeze picked up and rustled the whole wood, and your eyes trailed him, not moving for a second. He was somewhat tall, with a dark head of hair - well kept and presentably dressed for this time of night. A pair of lined trousers and a white shirt, suspenders keeping his back straight is about what you could make out. A stranger, no doubt, but the voice.. the voice you recognised. His head snapped up and your stomach turned, but you couldn’t quite put your finger on where you’d heard it before.

The heat was unbearable. 

And that was saying something for someone who grew up around here. Your arms felt like they were about to give out from the weight of the grocery bags, and you could swear the soles of your feet were nearly burned away in those flimsy old shoes. The street buzzed with life, cars and people rushing in every direction, while music spilled out from corners on nearly every block, making your head spin. You could feel your body start to sag a bit under the strain, so you set one of the bags down on the ground. With all this running around and the pressure to get home quickly, you leaned against the wall to steady yourself.

The only thing that pulled you from your daze was an arm wrapping around you, gripping your waist like a cool washcloth— supporting you. You looked up to meet the gaze of one of the local shop owners. You scrunched your face, trying to see him more clearly, only to focus on his warm and friendly smile. 

“Hey, I had to catch you  before you fell there, darlin'. Is everything okay?”  He let out a nervous chuckle as he propped you up against the wall, gently taking the bag from your other hand and setting it down next to the first. Your ears were ringing, and dizziness washed over you,. You hadn’t realised how hard you’d been pushing yourself until it became almost impossible to move. His hand cupped your cheek, and he looked deeply into your eyes, as if he’d have been searching for signs of life. 

He nodded  to himself and looked up and down the street before standing upright.” How ’bout we go a little ways away down this street? I’ve got a store down there; I own it.”  Pointing in the direction you were already headed, he clicked his fingers at a worker loading up a truck and waved them over to pick up your bags. Gently grabbing your hands, he placed them around his neck. 

Bo paused for a moment, a smile spreading across his face as he watched you ready yourself. You twirled onto your side, and he slipped his arm back around your waist, guiding you a few steps and into the shop. He encouraged you the way there, playfully teasing you about being out in the heat and pushing yourself too hard. As you made your way into the store, he leaned you against the counter for support. Before you could voice any objections, his hands found the backs of your thighs, lifting you onto the counter with effortless ease and drawing his hands away.

 You settled back with a huff, grateful for the brief respite. And as you took in the store, he had disappeared, returning just as fast with a glass of water in hand.

“Something to take the edge off, huh?” He offered, his voice a soothing balm, as he extended his hand toward you. You weakly accepted it, your fingers enveloping the glass. “Thank you,” you croaked out, your voice hoarse like gravel. He looked astounded, his eyes widening as he shuffled away from where he stood, placing his hands at his sides.  

“Agh, she speaks; how are you feeling, Sweetpea?” The playful smirk on his face lingered as he watched your lips gently graze the rim of the glass. Your eyes fluttered closed in a moment of solace, and you raised your thumb in a silent saying of “okay,” feeling the chill of the cold water hit your mouth.

He slanted  his side against the counter, his hips swaying slightly as he observed you, watching how your brows knitted together in concentration as you drank, and you could feel his eyes on you.

At that moment, a sense of longing washed over him, his eye lingering on you in a way he hadn’t meant to. He found himself thinking all those things he shouldn’t—how your lips curved into that bright smile, the static shock as your fingers brushed against his, and how your skirt senselessly bunched around your knees. His breath caught in his throat, placing his empty hand on the counter beside you, enclosing you at a distance.

You lazily pulled your hand back and shifted in your seat, meeting his longing look. You noticed the sweat beading on his hairline, trickling down his cheek just etching at his lip and how his mouth parted as he licked his lips, almost panting from the outside , before setting the glass down. Tilting your head slightly, you tried to read the familiar face, hoping by some miracle you'd remember an answer, a name, anything - but you'd only seen him a couple of times, watching lowly from the street. And before you could ask,

 “It’s Bo, Bo Chow.” He paused for a moment, breathless. “But most folks around here just stick with Bo.” The smile he offered was like a daydream, a shared one, as he nodded his head, clasping his hands together.

It was him. 

You drew a breath sharply. The brush from the leaves threatening to whip you in the face with the wind as you remained at eye-level with it but your crouched feet failed you. What felt like a distant memory was only just a few weeks ago, and it flooded back fast, the soles of your feet still burned and they gave way, but the ground beneath you shifted, you pulled at the earth and when the roots from broke, you fell backward, leaving a snap at your wake. You gasped as the hard mud hit your back, bunching your hand to make a fist to push at it.

Footsteps approached hurriedly and a presence peered from over you, familiar hands reached out for you, leaving no distance in sight, the moonlight lit up part of his face giving all your questions the truth you needed.

“Bo..” You wheezed out loud, grabbing at his arm as he towed you forward, letting you sit up. You felt this before, his touch, but now there was a grip that felt unnatural, it burned with his touch, your limb could have practically gone limp, and yet he barely moved a muscle.

“Woah there, careful baby.” You stood up and he stepped back a bit giving you some space, laughing as you both realised one another, you sighed of relief of seeing his face, something so unlikely here, in the dead of night.

Now it threw you off no doubt, but it was Bo, the shopkeeper down the street who took his own time to help you, the one you looked out for every day, a couple run ins without an acquaintance could tell you he was a gentleman, and many knew that, even you.The store had been shut down for while and he practically had wiped off the face of the Earth. After the incident you heard about in the papers about the Juke Joint everyone kept their heads down, keeping to themselves, apart from those whispers. Like the ones you’d heard since you were young, but now they were prime, the riddle on everyones tongue like a sermon, like some part the new gospel.

However, after that one day, you couldn’t help but think of him, the way he stopped to help you, to pull you close, the way he eyed the structure of your body like it was the holy grail itself. Leaving you to question, what would have happened if you’d have stayed?  Maybe you hit your head that day, or perhaps it was the heat messing with you, but that didn’t change the heat you felt inside of you every time you thought about it, an aching, an uncontrolled urge with the way he rested against you, his hand near creeping up toward your thigh. And the way he looked at you now, breaking the silence, didn’t help your distress, 

“I dropped my lantern around here some place, give me a second sweetheart.”

He snickered, kicking the dirt around his feet to find the lamp,  and you stop there rocking on your heel unit he found it, picking it up and bringing it to the both of you. His eyes lulled at you, checking in as he pulled a matchbox from his pocket, reaching inside for one of them. He slid the box open and flicked one of the matches into his mouth, pausing to close the compartment. You could still make out the shading of his face, watching the way he moved, and the match in his mouth as he swiped it with his tongue, wrapping it tightly around so it wouldn’t fall. His gaze remained on you in the stillness, and as the tip guided along the top of his tongue, his eyes flashed starved with want. 

It created a glow, lighting the woods and your faces up orange, he crouched to pick up the lantern beside his feet, sealing the glow inside its glass case. 

“You could’a frightened me there.” You laughed off, trying to give some kind of lightness to what had just happened, spurring on conversation.

He held it close in his hands, enough to keep track of you and take a look around for any others, if there even was. “I didn’t mean to scare you darlin, probably shouldn’t have been wandering out here this late as it is myself, but thought I’d take a walk, it’s been one hell of a day.” You quirked an eyebrow now being able to focus on his face, eyes drawing to the corner of his dimples. His smile didn’t falter once, staying at the flat of his mouth, only gracing his face lightly, and beyond his surprise he seemed please. Pleased to see you. 

“Yeah I could have guessed.” You wiped your fingers at the corner of your mouth, gesturing to his own. He looked pretty beat up, just without the bruises, or without injury of any kind, but the thick strands of blood that pooled from his mouth proved otherwise.

His face contorted into some sort of shock at your look and he pinched at the drying substance, wiping it into his pants without as much as a look. The look he gave went blank for a moment, like he wanted to say something but refrained, like he was fighting something on the inside. 

“So why’re you out here this late?” He took a little step forward, stepping downward from the small, raised embankment he was on before, now at almost level with you, he hung the lantern in-between you both. You didn’t move, rather stilled in your step as he wandered over to you, his eyes squinting a little. “I usually come out here, on my own, it’s rare you see anyone down here past sundown.” You wondered why, why out here, and now. Everything seemed to go silent, enough to hear a pin drop, only that light breeze shaking up your skirts, and tousled his hair just enough to shag in his face, it was calm, gentle even, just like before - but Bo, he seemed out of place, shifting back and forth where he stood, yet confident still. More eager than before.

Like he was trying to make some sort of move. 

You continued to ramble and he smirked, “I haven’t seen you or the shop open around here in a while, are you sure you’re alright? There’s been a lot happening in town while you’ve been gone.”

“You noticed I been gone?” He shot back suddenly, the only thing registering, his lip curling a bit.

“Well, you guys own a much needed store in this town, it would be missed if it were to go untouched.” He took another step forward, watching you stumble over your words seemed rewarding. All this time he’d been around, seen you, wanting to do something, it’s not like he was scared to do it, and to tell the truth he didn’t really understand his infatuation at first. He’d seen you walk the streets, crossing by his shop window whenever you’d head into town, the times you’d visit and leave just as fast, cheeks blushing pink when you’d see him. And that’s what stayed with him. Things weren’t all that it seemed behind those four walls, his life felt withdrawn of colour, everything was weight.  But you, oh you were light, some beautiful sign, something he chased for, something he was determined to make his. And with his life now, he knew what that meant.

“You know what I mean. “ You feigned confidence in your words, now in reality that a truth, but in honesty, you knew it was more than that; much more.

He took another step forward, this time as you took one back, your heel clicked with the root of a tree, giving a thud as you braced both of your arms behind you, pushing you up as much as you could, feeling the rough bark at your finger tips. “You miss me?” His nature shifted, and his head tilted with it, swaying the lantern as he walked, a few steps distance between you both. The light flickered, so much so the shape of his face seemed to contort. 

And his eyes, they glossed over an iridescent white, glinting specks of red and orange, something that you hadn’t seen before. Something that wasn’t human. 

But you blinked and they were gone.

They were normal, a darker brown suited them, staring at you knowingly. “You could say that.” Your breath shook, but not out of fear, no, but instead the way he drew near, closer and closer. He flashed you a smile as you tried to think of the right words, but now his teeth.

Another blink.

And the once rounded molars were sharp and jagged, more like an animal, something made for tearing into flesh. And you felt your stomach drop and an ache that pooled downward, one you couldn’t control.

He staggered, dropping his head forward to look at the ground before looking up to you again. He rested his arm on the piece of tree behind your head, getting quieter, though his voice rang in your ears, ”Saw the way you looked at me back at the store, and I should have said somethin’.” 

“Bo, that was just-“ He took the final step between you, leaving the lantern at your feet, his finger came up to your mouth shushing you, knowing where you were going with what you said next, seemingly before you did. His eyes still had a distinct gentile in them, the same as the one you knew before, even beyond his new form. And no words had to be uttered to tell you what that was.

The truth you both knew. The limited glint from the light reflected from his eye to yours, and you could see your face in the shine. 

“You're telling me that was nothin’, that you didn’t think of about it,” A serious expression on his face, his brows furrowed, he brushed his fingers down against your side, drawing a line against the curve of your waist, “Not even once?”  His face flashed with a sense of pride, and the way his pupils dilated was proof of what knew to be true. Your hips jolted forward at the feather light touch and he brought his hand down to cup your thigh, giving it a soft squeeze. 

“Bo..” Your face grew red, so red someone would think you’d be laying in that beating sun all day long.

“Y/N.. Tell me.” 

Inches away from your face he pressed against you, slanting closer, his voice a staggered whisper, and his lips damp.

 “Ever since you saw me last..”  You looked down at them, seeing drool at the edges of them and you chuckled a little. He sucked in a keen breath as you scraped yourself against the tree, gaining balance, bringing your finger up to wipe at it.

“Hey, you’re droolin’”

“You want some?” Your head shot up at his quip, bangs of his hair falling into your face, your noses touching. You smiled through your flushed expression, the wetness gathered on your finger and he leaned to kiss as it lightly, drawing his tongue at the remnants. Bo moved his face closer so that your hand laid on his cheek, nuzzling his nose up against your own, he pressed himself against you rocking his hips.

Without an answer, you tugged his face towards yours, closing the gap between you, gasping into his mouth at the friction he was causing. His tongue pushed into your mouth with passion, lips locking with yours as he slotted his knee between you, cupping your sex against his pants, leaving no resistance with the sensation, and you pushed down with a whine.

“God baby..” He licked at your mouth, biting at your top lip fiercely, and he dragged down kissing at your jaw, leaving soft chaste, open mouthed marks toward your neck. His lips felt familiar, so much so they tugged at you, on your heart, so much it almost hurt.

“Please..” You whimpered as Bo’s teeth bared at your neck, along your jugular long enough to feel your heart rumble beneath the canines, feel it even. He sucked in a breath, planting a hard, marking kiss before continuing down. His hands manoeuvred down your shirt, pushing through the soft fabric, bracing his fingers over your breasts and pulling away at the buttons, undoing them one by one by one. And he placed himself on the ground kneeling in front of you. 

The tangerine tones scattered across your body like a reckoning, and he grasped with the sight of it, not knowing whether to sit and study or ruin you completely. His head rested against your lower stomach, almost begging you, his hands teasing up the backs of your legs, gripping you where you stood. Your mouth hung open, shivering at his motions. You watched, entranced, as he effortlessly lifted the hem of your skirts, pushing the fabric higher until it rested above your hips. With deliberate slowness, he tugged at the corners of your panties, peeling them down around your ankles. The cool air exposed your cunt, sending another wave of shivers through you as he began tracing the length of your thigh up and down with his tongue.

Your hips jolted forward, and he wasted no time in aimlessly yanking at your hips, his hands scooping up at the flesh of your ass holding you up just enough to reach your centre. Bo grunted as his mouth reached you, pulling you back and forth onto his tongue as he sucked on your clit, the tips of his fingers digging in as you brought your hand to his hair.

The black strands now turning into a disheveled mess in your grasp, there being no reservations at all about his drool slicking down the sides of his mouth as he was moaning into your cunt, fucking  his tongue into you, fingers continuing to dig into your hips. He gets lost in the way your breath hitches, the way you say his name - over and over again without abandon, and oh how he’s been waiting, wanting to hear that.

“That’s it pretty girl, I’ve got you.” He groans as your taste coats his tongue, thick with your sweet slick, the height of his newfound senses alerting with each and every movement, and he swears that its the best thing he’s tasted, beyond the blood. He plunged deeper and you could do nothing but follow with a string of moans. You fell apart against him, arching your back into his face as you guided him impossibly close, your head falling back against the wood behind you. All of this time, imagining, yearning and here you were now without a care in the world hissing at every touch he gave, every ounce of pleasure he was willing to give. 

His motions didn’t relent, mouth warming against you as his he flicked his tongue in figures of eight, only pausing to suck harshly, and it was too much.

Over and.

Over.

You came undone, a white hot strike vibrating through you and your legs trembled, clenching around him with a cry, “Baby..”.

That was enough for him and he nudged upward, cupping your one leg up to his hip and you circled it around his middle shamelessly. 

The thick humidity enveloped you as you panted, heart racing, when he finally came face to face with you once more. A wicked grin spread across his lips, his fangs catching the dim light. You shuddered, but it wasn’t fear that coursed through you; it was the anticipation of what was about to happen. 

He leaned in, pressing his lips to yours in a soft, delicate kiss, and you instinctively squeezed your eyes shut. You were standing before a darkness, a malevolence you had been warned about for years—an evil you were all too familiar with, yet never imagined you could draw so close to but your whole being knew.

“I don’t know if I can stop myself.” He breathed out, all restraint he took against himself, resting his head falling against your shoulder, still kissing at the curve of your neck. But you already felt it, with your body pressed against his, you hissed at the motion of his dick pressing through his pants. You reached down to the hem of his shirt, fingers trembling as you pulled it up, revealing the taut muscles of his abdomen. The heat radiated from his skin, mingling with the dew around you, the atmosphere made your heart race.

 You could feel the tension building, the unspoken desires hanging in the air, thick and intoxicating you into a compulsion.

“I shouldn’t do this,” you whispered, though the conviction behind your words was faltering. Part of you wanted to push him away, to run from the danger he represented, yet another part—a part you couldn’t ignore—yearned to lean into the darkness he offered.

His lips ghosted over your collarbone, sending shivers down your spine. “But you want to,” he murmured, pulling back just enough to meet your gaze, those dark eyes glinting with mischief and hunger. “You’ve felt it too, haven’t you darlin’? The pull between us?”

You inhaled sharply, the air thick with the scent of rain-soaked earth and his intoxicating presence. 

“Yes,” you admitted, a soft breath escaping your lips. “But it’s reckless. You could hurt me.”

His grin widened, a blend of danger and allure. “And I could do much more than that.” With a swift, fluid motion, he captured your wrist and pulled you closer, bodies flush against each other, the space between you ablaze with possibility. "But what if I promised to keep you safe?"

You hesitated, heart racing as your mind raced with the implications. Could you trust him? Your instincts screamed caution, yet your body betrayed you, yearning for his touch, for the thrill of the unknown.

As he leaned in again, brushing his lips just above yours, the world around you faded into insignificance. In this moment, it was just the two of you, teetering on the edge of danger and desire “Then show me,” you dared. “Show me what you can do.”

He hesitated for just a moment, as if weighing the gravity of your words, before his eyes darkened with an intensity that sent shivers down your spine. He leaned in, his lips brushing against your neck, sending a rush of excitement coursing through you.

The moment his fangs pierced your skin, a sharp gasp escaped your lips and he bucked his hips forward. It was a mixture of pain and a wave of pleasure that stole your breath away. You felt a jolt of energy surge through you as he fed, the warmth of his body pressing against yours, igniting a fire deep in your core - your leg tightened around him.

He caressed your thigh, keeping you pinned between him and the tree and the other grabbing at what he could of your waist as he drank from you, his mouth moving with a sensuous rhythm that sent a heat radiating through your body. Mindlessly your fingers wrapped around his buckle, undoing the chipped metal with a clink that hardly met either one of your ears but he felt it. Your head slacked against the top of his, grabbing at his hips he groaned, and your wetness covered a patch against his clothed cock. 

You could feel your heartbeat thrumming in your ears, each pulse syncing with the deep, primal need that blossomed between you, feeling the same dizziness you felt weeks before, this time only stronger. His hands, his mouth, while mostly solid, feel tingly, cold in a way that's akin to walking through fog. His breath is warm as it huffs against your neck, a delicious push and pull of sensation. 

With a low growl, he pulled back from your neck slightly, his eyes glinting crimson, a reflection of the warmth of your blood glistened on his lips, a stark reminder of the line you had crossed. “You’re somethin’ honey, let me take care of that for you,” he breathed, his voice low and husk.

The pulse in your neck rippling with every beat of your heart as he rested his forehead against your own, darting his tongue out to kiss you again, giving you the taste of your own blood, now yours, now his.

Bo leered at you and you all you could muster was a dumb smile back. He undid the rest of what you started, eyes watching you and you only as he pulled his dick from his pants. Long, and thick, and leaking, he cursed to himself at the aching and moaned, kissing your cheek. The stretch ignited an intense burn and your hands travelled down his back, tugging at the tight muscle, feeling the weight of everything he put against you. 

He leaned you all the way against him to where you were nearly laying as though on a bed yet still angled as though lounging on upright against the tree. The new angle pushed his cock to the sweetest pull, pushing against your plush walls and letting a gasp escape you in turn. Bo smoothed the sides of your body while your feet turned under you and you let your body rest on him. He ran over your breasts slowly through the opening of your lace shirt. Nipples long and pebbled, he squeezed the flesh and brought them up before releasing them again. Bo brought his head to rest beside yours as he thrusted into you once more, blood curdling at your cheek from his mouth.

The wound at your neck stung, with every delicious snap of his hips it jerked your bodies, a solidified reminder now every time he pounded into you. Each snap hitting perfectly deep as his hands cradled you and his words filled your mind with him. 

“You’re my girl.” He declared before you could even conjure up the thought. “Say it darlin’.” He continued guiding his hand at your leg, hoisting you as he brought is finger to your clit, rubbing the sensitive bud, as his end neared.

“I’m yours.” You whined, bringing your finger to ghost atop his own as it circled your clit. The familiar heat in your core began to bubble like the markings of a burning fuse.  You turned your head to his and kissed him deeply at the thought, rubbing your clit furiously with the help of his hand and relishing the way his cock completed your body. 

“You’ll be mine.” Bo reaffirmed as his words caught every second his hips threatened to stutter at his release. “You’ll be mine forever ain’t that right.” 

You could have sworn you saw the waves of Heaven wash over you as the eruption of your orgasm shakes you to the core. The blinding shades of his orbs stuck on you leaving you heaving  for breath. Left thoughtless and wordless of promises that carry on with the shaking of your thighs and soft whispers of  an ‘always’ from his lips. Bo stilled as he released, head slacking and mouth hanging open he moaned, his hips stuttered into you and the threads of his cum began to leak beyond where he filled you. 

He released his hand from your own and rubbed your arms soothingly as you laid heavy against him, bracing you against the tree, his hand smoothing over your shoulders as to be careful. Sweat stuck to you as your hair frizzed out of place, the last droplets of blood dribbled out down your neck and he caught it with his finger. 

You let out a hiss at the sensation but pouted, he readjusted your skirts, letting his forehead rest against yours once more, closing his eyes as your head knocked into his own and he grinned lightly. And you regained what was left of your breath as your vision faltered, only able to see his face in the dim glow.

“Now you will be.” 

And a promise or a guarantee, who could know? But he intended to keep both.

[hrokkall]

"Sad Cat Poem" by Spencer Madsen

[quixoticprince]

I haven't drawn in so long and tf2 comes back with a bat to my brain again after I first got super into it when I was *checks notes* 14 I gotta get my gears wet again and like, rediscover how to draw and I'm wetting my feet again with a heavymedic shit post 😭

------------------- EDIT: The original images contained a text post from someone who did not want that text post spread - So let's have the blank versions instead! Imagine any dialogue in there that you want lol

[bigfatbreak]

Birds of a Feather previous / next

tw: blood

[hinamie]

mwah