#moss covered log

[elfwithantlers]

Moss from my wanderings

[groupwest]

Had a little fire in the bush with Esther, until it rained on our heads.. it was nice <3

[sinner4life]

Melatonin before bed is not enough, I need someone to hit me over the head with a cast iron pan

[aymethyst]

funny how growing up in the country i dreamed of the city with the smog and overpopulated streets

now that im in the city, i long for nature and the forests i once got lost in.

i am always looking for a way out

[murphysletsdraw]

A cool log I saw!

Image description:

A gouache painting of a log against a black background. The log is rotting and covered with moss and fungus.

End ID

(If you like my art and want to see more, please consider joining my patreon! link in pinned post :D) ETA: You can buy the print here!

[deer-knight]

knight of the forest acrylic on wood panel 11x14in [image description: an acrylic painting of a stag in a forest standing before a pond. a longsword is held in the stag's antlers, and the stag is backlit by glowing sunlight. the stag's eyes glow white, and there is a small patch of trout lilies in the lower left foreground, next to a mushroom and moss-covered log. end image description.]

[headspace-hotel]

So growing up I heard these kinds of statements: "X number of species goes extinct every year" and "Most species that go extinct are undescribed/undiscovered"

And I could never really picture what that looked like. What species were going extinct? Where? Why? If they're undiscovered, how do we know about it? It's only recently that I've been able to understand.

This is an example:

Since European colonization, 99% of old growth forest in the eastern United States was cut down.

In Eastern Kentucky, the coal industry led to waste and rubble being dumped in valleys, literally burying countless mountain streams in gravel and toxic sludge.

Colonialism and exploitation moved faster than leaf-sketching and bug-collecting European naturalists did. It's very simple, and very sad. When the coal mines polluted the streams, many species of fish that only lived in one specific stream must have gone extinct. When Native Americans were forced off their lands, we can presume that rare plant species found in meadows, canebrakes and oaks savannas dependent on particular anthropogenic disturbances went extinct. When old-growth tracts were logged, God only knows how many lichens, mosses, ferns and plants went extinct because the trees they lived on were chopped.

We can extrapolate from the diversity in the fragments that remain, and the number of rare endemic species in especially isolated areas, and guess what probably existed in areas that were obliterated early on.

Keep in mind: All is not lost. New species are still being discovered.

The Bluegrass region of Kentucky was once called one of the most peculiar plant communities of the South—an eastern island of oak savanna with an understory of Arundinaria bamboo and legumes. Early European settlers reported that the ground was incredibly rich and covered with knee-high clover and dense thickets of "cane" (bamboo) that made navigation next to impossible.

Some people say the Bluegrass was always a forest and the savanna theory is wrong. Bullshit! I know this because of several reasons:

The earliest records don't mention any sycamores at all in the Bluegrass, whereas river cane (bamboo) was everywhere. Arundinaria bamboos are fire dependent species, whereas sycamore is HIGHLY intolerant of fire. From this we can infer that the area had a history of frequent burning.

Everyone in the Bluegrass knows about the Old Trees. In horse and cattle pastures in the Bluegrass region, you will sometimes see gigantic, twisted old oaks, with great spreading crowns. Nowadays you hardly see an oak that properly merits the term "gnarled," but the gnarl of the Old Trees is crazy. Just look up google images for Kentucky tourism and you'll see one of those huge trees in the background of several of the photos, I bet. Hardly anyone consciously thinks about it, but these are pre-colonization trees. And they are all obviously open-grown—their growth habit over the centuries has spread out, rather than grown straight up as in a forest.

Early colonizers' records report big walnut and cherry trees in the area. Most of the old houses in the area are made of walnut wood. Those are mid-successional species—you wouldn't find them dominating in an area that was heavily disturbed regularly and recently, they're trees, but you wouldn't find them in a forest that had been minimally disturbed forest for centuries either. The fact that they got huge suggests that a regular disturbance pattern of the Bluegrass region was abruptly interrupted and mostly ceased.

It was a pretty special place, a savanna environment with a mix of giant twisted oaks, rolling prairie hills and bamboo thickets, with deep sinkholes connecting the surface to subterranean cave ecosystems. In places the limestone bedrock reached the surface, creating limestone glades—unique desert-like habitats with many rare plants including Opuntia cactus.

It was also one of the first ecosystems west of the Appalachians to be destroyed by settlers.

BUT! Just a few years ago, we discovered Trifolium kentuckiense—Kentucky clover. A unique species of clover that has only been found in two spots in Central Kentucky.

This means the Bluegrass species that probably went extinct because their habitat was ignorantly logged, plowed and grazed before they were studied by European science may not be entirely gone.

We have been able to fund exhaustive inventories of potential holdouts for big flashy animals like the ivory-billed woodpecker, but so many people view the place they live as "boring" and thoroughly explored, when there could be surviving plants hanging out just about anywhere.

But...I don't think most people realize how much of the Holocene extinction has already happened. Most of the losses are plants and bugs that you never knew existed in the first place.

I feel like lots of people are anxiously waiting for the mass extinction to "start" hitting, but that's not quite right. European colonization of the globe WAS and *is* the mass extinction (combined with climate change which is very related). It's actively ongoing in the Global South. In eastern North America, the major wave of extinctions hit between 100 and 300 years ago.

I feel so much grief for all that was almost certainly lost forever, but I also recognize that I live in a unique period of time where the future can still be changed, and in particular, the heavily damaged ecosystems of the Southeast can be restored and used to absorb carbon from the atmosphere and provide resilience to the entire globe. And I strongly suspect at least a few mysterious new plants will start popping up once that happens...because a lot of plants stick around in the soil seed bank for a long, long time, and seeds can happen to be preserved by freak accident and then sprout later.

we (researchers, scientists, people who work in this field) will desperately need to consult tribal nations for this though because from my reading into it, we don't know what the fuck we're doing. The most basic things like controlled burns are still struggling to catch on and in some places just, spraying herbicides willy-nilly on invasive plants without understanding what makes them invasive.

[queerpyracy]

there is a thing about photographers in the pacific northwest where they'll post a photo of some mossy trees and describe it with words like "primeval" or "primordial" or "old growth." and i, having grown up in a town that has an old sawmill that has been closed for longer than i have been alive, can look at those photos and see that each and every tree is one that i could put my arms around, even if my fingers wouldn't necessarily touch on the other side.

and there's just something about moss as the aesthetic bandage that covers over the sins of the pnw's colonial deforestation, the idea that people come in and take pictures and ooh and aah over the moss and sword ferns and tell themselves this is what Untouched Wilderness is/should look like, while a guy whose family got rich off that deforestation is presently the mayor of Oregon's biggest metropolitan area.

and i've said before (and will say again) that not all logging is bad, that there are times when it is even necessary (to control disease, to thin crowded stands) but the logging industry is one that came to be here and thrived here through vile means, and if you know what you're looking at there's not enough moss in the world to cover that up.

moss can't hide the photo of my great grandfather posing with his saw next to a felled tree with a diameter wider than he is tall. moss can't hide trees that are small enough that members of the crew that replanted them are probably still alive.

all the moss in those photos tells you is that for now, at least, it's still raining.

[noxturnalpascal]

The Hunted

SerialKiller!Joel x F!Reader (8.2k)

DARKAU! POV will switch between Joel and Reader. This is dark compared to anything I’ve ever written before. I am a spooky girlie at heart and I wanted to give this idea some legs. If it’s not your thing, that’s okay. Spooky Halloween everyone!

Summary: This Ken is a Ski Instructor. This Ken is a Veterinarian. Well, this Joel is a Serial Killer. The canon Joel is actually kind of a serial killer too, if you think about it. But this version is No-Outbreak, 56-years old, and a Violent, Deranged, Serial Killing Loner. When a new victim practically falls in his lap, he doesn’t take the time to see that she could be his undoing.

Warnings: 18+ MDNI. This is a little dark (for me). Murder, Dead Bodies, Sex, Kidnapping, Bondage, DubCon (they want it but they’re tied to a chair), creampie, blood, violence, semen, crime scenes.

A/N: This is: creepy plot with porn at the end. It’s my first posted tumblr story. Spooky Season is upon us!! Please be nice 💜

He’s been enjoying the silence of the cabin in the woods all afternoon. The only sounds surrounding him have been the soft bird songs and din of cicadas drifting through the open window from the outside, and the rustling of his own body moving about the small rooms inside. 

The sound catches him so off guard, that at first he looks around the inside of the cabin, trying to figure out where the hum could be emanating from. The cabin is not hooked up to electric, so what could be making that sound? Then he realizes it's coming from outside. He looks out the windows and sees a figure hunched in the bushes, a stone’s throw away from his front door. 

He steps to the front door and quietly opens it, watching her at the wood’s edge. It’s definitely a woman, he can tell by the double braids winding down the back of her head, ending in pigtails. She is wearing dark wash blue jeans, a green jacket, and has on a rust-colored backpack. He can hear her humming even clearer now, the melody traversing the short distance to his ears.

He watches as she stays hunched over, reaching into the bushes and rustling the leaves. Nearly a minute passes before she finally stands, wiping her hands off on her thighs. He notices a small wooden bowl at her feet, stuffed full with berries. She is sucking on her fingertips, stained a light purple, when she turns and meets his eyes.

“Oh!,” she says, startled by his presence. “I’m sorry, I didn’t think anyone was in this ol’ thing.”

She gestures towards the cabin. She has a point. Even at first glance, the woods surrounding the cabin appear to be putting forth their best effort to reclaim it. The roof is covered in fallen leaves, moss and lichen cling to every surface, and the front steps - made of flattop logs - are sinking down, seeming to retreat back into the forest floor. And what he knows that she doesn't - yet? - is that the musty smell of the forest has permeated every square inch of the old log cabin’s interior, and everything inside of it. 

He puts on his warmest smile, softening the way his eyes are squinted, and blinks slowly. “Yeah, she’s not much but she keeps me honest,” he says, and he notices the way her body relaxes at his gentle, comforting tone.

“I’m guessin’ I’ve wandered too far. Sorry, I didn’t notice any signs posted.” The gentle lilt of her southern accent hits his ears like a sweet melody. 

“Yeah, state land ends at the treeline at the bottom ‘a that hill,” he gestures to the distance, her gaze following where he points. “But I don’t shoot or bite or nothin’, so don’t worry about steppin’ on my property,” he chuckles. He can see her continuing to relax under his welcoming reception. 

“I appreciate that. I’ve got one ‘a those little vans in the clearing down there, ‘n I expected more people to be around if I’m being honest.”

He notices she’s said I, not we.

“It’s gettin’ the end of camping season, so there’s fewer ‘n fewer out here, I think,” he waves his hand, hoping to convey how little he even notices the campers on the adjacent land.

“Well I’m sorry about stealin’ your berries. You want ‘em?” and she takes a few steps forward, closing the gap between them, holding the small bowl in her outstretched arms. 

The pigtails make her look young. So does the innocence in her eyes, which are partially hidden behind her thick-framed glasses. She stops short of the steps, still about six feet away now, still holding out the bowl. 

“No, ‘course not,” he gives her a sideways grin. “Those were gonna get eaten by birds before they got eaten by me. You enjoy ‘em little bird.” His guts twist at the smile that breaks out on her face. The way she looks down, almost bashful.

She turns to walk away and then stops, turning back to look at him. He watches her as she gives the outside of the deteriorating cabin another once-over, and then looks him up and down. “Can I ask you somethin’?” and before he can even respond, she continues. “Is it safe around here?”

His stomach clenches. He gently furrows his brows, “yeah, sure it is, why?”

“I’ve heard a couple things recently about people going missin’. Hikers and campers near here,” she gestures in a circular motion with her finger. “You heard anything about that?”

She is worried. He can tell because she looks worried. God, every emotion she has is playing across her face right now. He can read her like a book. She is so vulnerable. She’s a young woman camping all alone in the woods and she is worried. She should be.

“I haven’t heard anything myself, no. But that happens every year. People underestimate it.”

“Underestimate what?” she interjects, her doe eyes scanning his face.

“Nature,” he replies, and now he gestures around with his finger.

He gives her another soft smile and blinks his eyes slowly. She lets a genuine grin break through her worried features and she nods, taking in his response.

“I wouldn’t worry too much, there’s no one out here to cause ya trouble,” he offers, hoping she notes that he is clearly not a danger. “Besides, if anything happens, you can come back here.”

This time her smile falters a bit. He’s pushed too far. She’s worried. She’s alone. She’s not looking to seek refuge in a stranger’s cabin. He backtracks.

“I’m sure the worst thing that’s gonna happen is ya find a spider in your van,” he continues, “But please don’t come back here for that!” 

He gives a low chuckle and is glad to see she does the same, good humor returning to her now relaxing face. She gestures to the bowl of berries and flashes a toothy-smile as a thanks, before turning to retreat down the hill. He hears her call out a goodbye after she turns and he calls one back in response. 

He goes back inside and finishes watching her leave until the trees hide her departing figure. He has about seven more hours until dark fully takes hold. Seven more hours until he can seek her out in the clearing with the safe knowledge of remaining undetected. Plenty of time for him to finish prepping the cabin and get himself some dinner.

*****

He thinks he might be getting too old for this. His lower back is aching, his thighs are on fire, and he’s had a stabbing pain in his neck for the last twenty minutes; all due to the fact that he has been hunched against this tree for over an hour. Usually he wouldn’t still be here. He’d have made some observations, taken some mental notes, and planned for additional reconnaissance later on.

But he doesn’t know how long you’re going to be here. You haven’t unpacked anything - not even a folding chair - to indicate that your campsite setup will be anything more than a one-night stay. If you’re gone tomorrow and he has missed his opportunity, he’ll regret leaving now. He has spent the last eight hours thinking about nothing but you. 

He’s thought about the way your delicate lips wrapped around your fingertips and the gentle melody you hummed before you knew he was there. He has thought about the kind way you offered him the berries you picked and the way your jeans hugged your ass as you sauntered away. What would your eyes look like if he took your glasses off, if he pressed a gentle kiss to your lips, if he wrapped his big hands around your delicate throat?

No, he has to do it tonight. He can’t wait any longer. 

Your van is all black. Besides the windshield, there are windows only at the two front seats and the rear double doors. However, you have all the windows covered with blackout panels. Smart. You’re a young woman camping alone, keeping your privacy is a smart thing to do. And keeping peeping eyes out of your space is probably important to you.

You’ve been playing music inside the entire time, though he doesn’t recognize any of the songs. Sometimes he thinks he can hear you humming along. He imagines you’re eating the berries you picked from the bushes outside his cabin. Maybe you’ve changed into more comfortable clothing, maybe you’re sitting on your bed, maybe you’re reading a book. Maybe you’re even thinking about him. He tried not to make an impression earlier but part of him hopes he did.

He really can’t wait any longer.

He moves slowly, not just because his body is quite literally creaking, but because he has to keep his head on a swivel and continue to make sure there are no eyes watching him. He makes his way towards the van, choosing his steps carefully. His head moves back and forth, checking in front of and behind him, watching for any movement. The night is so quiet all he hears is the gentle wind rustling the tall grass and the constant cricket song.

He finally reaches the side door of the van. The music inside is louder from here but he still doesn’t recognize the song. He pats his pockets, obsessively triple-checking he has the supplies he’ll need. He pulls a small tool out of his shirt pocket and sticks it in the door lock. He feels rather than hears the soft click that he knows means he now has full access to you. 

He puts his hand on the door handle and inhales a breath, holding it with full lungs. He closes his eyes and imagines what he’ll see when he opens the door, warm light spilling onto him from the inside. What will you be wearing? Will you look excited to see him? Frightened? Will you scream?

“Hey there little bird,” he says quietly as he throws the door open. Confusion falls across his face. He looks down onto the floor of the van, where a single bluetooth speaker sits, still playing music. The single overhead light from the van’s interior barely illuminates the inside, but it doesn’t matter, since there isn’t anything to see. 

The inside of the van isn’t a camper. It’s an empty utility van. There are no seats and no wall panels. In fact, the entire inside of the van is covered in thick plastic sheeting, which vibrates a strange buzz from the reverberation of the bluetooth speaker.

He has barely taken it all in when he feels a pinch in his neck. He grabs at it with his hand but there is nothing there and before he can react further, everything goes black.

*****

You hear a couple deep breaths and then some grunting. Maybe this means he’s finally waking up. You walk around in front of where he sits bound naked to a chair, and bend over, hands on your knees, face close to his, cooing gently for him to wake up sleepyhead. 

Standing up straight, you watch as he slowly opens his eyes, bit by bit, working to focus. He is blinking long, slow blinks, and his eyes raise to your face. His pupils start going big and then small, his eyes start rapidly blinking as his swirling thoughts begin to come back to him. 

Then you see it - recognition.

He crinkles his brows, the crease between them going so deep. His mouth begins to form a question but only a short, dry croak comes out. You can’t help yourself, you laugh at him. A quiet, melodic chuckle.

“Sorry, I think I gave you too much back there,” with two fingers you brush some hair off his forehead that has fallen forward. “I thought you were fatter under all these clothes, but you’re doing alright for yerself there.”

His eyes fall to your shirt - well, his shirt - and then to his own lap. He’s just realizing he’s naked. Then his eyes trail back up your body as he takes in the fact that you’re wearing all of the clothes you stripped off him.

His mouth opens again but you don’t let him even try to speak this time. You grab his face and his eyes snap to meet yours. “Remember when I asked if you knew anything about those campers and hikers goin’ missing?” You drop your hand from his face and step to the side to reveal a folding table set up behind you. Along the table you have laid an array of different souvenirs he had plucked from his victims. 

“You told me you didn’t know anything,” you continue, as you watch his eyes grow larger as they rake across the table, taking in the items he had hidden away in his cabin. “But honey, I think you know a lot more than you said you did.”

His eyes slowly come back to yours and you can’t hide the smile you now have plastered across your face. “I don’t-” he starts. You quickly shove your finger overtop his mouth in a shush motion.

“Don’t even try that honey, we’re way past denial now. I already found all yer little trophies.” 

Now he flexes in the chair. Your finger drags down his neck and across his shoulder as you walk around the chair, circling him. You watch him continue to strain, testing the ropes, checking to see for himself if you knew what you were doing when you tied him to the chair. You did.

“So what is this?” he mutters, “One a’ them yer friend? Your brother or sister or somethin’?” He continues to push against the unforgiving ropes. “This some kinda revenge plot you got brewin’?” 

You can’t help it, you laugh again. “Oh honey, is that what you think?” You place your finger at the top of his forehead and slowly run it down his face, “You think you’ve hurt me?” over his nose, “Think I’m your victim?” over his lips, stopping on his chin. You lean in and ghost your lips right over his. “I’m not your victim honey,” you whisper against his lips, “you’re mine,” pressing into him with a kiss.

You stand up and take a step back. “I know what you are. I know exactly what you are because I’m the same. Well, almost the same,” and you laugh again, breaking eye contact. “When I was young, my adoptive father recognized it in me n’ taught me how to direct it. He called it my dark passenger and I-”

“Y-yer what?” he interrupts.

“What?” You’re back to looking him in his eyes.

“Did you say your dark passenger?” He looks past the folding table strewn with his trophies and sees the ‘camper van’ parked with the side door still wide open, inside still covered with plastic sheeting. “Dark passen- isn’t that from that fuckin’ TV show? Dexter?”

“What the fu-,” you slap your arms against your thighs in frustration. “Don’t tell me you get fuckin’ Showtime in that piece a shit cabin. There wasn’t even a fuckin’ TV in that shithole.”

“Well I don’t fuckin’ live there sweetheart that’s just where I-” he stops short but just rolls his eyes at you. Then he gives you a look like he’s embarrassed for you. 

“Oh well excuse me for wantin’ to add a little flair to this situation!” you yell out to the ceiling. “I guess we can’t have any fuckin’ fun around here.”

“So what’re you gonna do now Dex, chop me up and take me out to the ocean?” a cocky fucking grin settles on his face.. 

“Jesus Christ what’d you watch the whole fuckin’ series?” You look down at his smug face. He thinks he has the upper hand again. This motherfucker. Naked. Tied to a chair. Still thinks he’s smarter than you. 

“You know how much fuckin’ work it’d be to chop your fat ass up?” and you watch his grin get wiped off his face. “Think I’m gonna take the time to dismember you? You? I could leave you just like this in a shallow ditch ‘n not one person would even miss you honey.”

“Then whatcha’ fuckin’ waitin’ for, huh?” He snarls, his smugness gone. “Get it over with, let’s go.”

You walk behind him and grab a second chair, dragging it noisily across the floor until it’s parallel to his own chair but facing the other way. You plop down in the chair and lean closer to him.

“I really don’t know how you’re still not gettin’ it,” you say quietly. You drag your finger along the ropes across the front of his chest as he lowers his chin to watch you. “But you are not in charge here.” He lifts his head and his hard eyes meet yours.

“Now… I’m gonna ask you some questions and you’re gonna answer me honestly.”

“And why would I fuckin’ do that?” he says calmly, quietly.

“Cuz otherwise I’m gonna call 9-1-1 right now. When they get here they’ll see I’ve done all their work for ‘em.” you hitch your thumb back to point it towards the table behind you. He sighs a deep breath and - growls? - under his breath.

You point to the table again and ask, “How do you choose your victims?” He shakes his head, tries to shift in his chair but the ropes are tied too tight to allow for much movement. You really do know what you’re doing. He still doesn’t seem to believe it, flexing his arms and chest against the ropes yet again.

“I don’t.” You give him a beat to add more to the sentence but he just stares at you with black eyes, mouth closed and tight-lipped.

“You’re gonna have to do a little better n’ that honey,” you gently coo. He suppresses another growl. You can tell that your little nickname for him is finally starting to grate on his nerves. 

“That’s my answer,” he grumbles, refusing to elaborate, staring ahead at the folding table.

“Okay hun, no problem,” you reply as you lean forward and pull a cell phone out of your back pocket. You punch in the lock code and begin to dial. You type in 9 and you see him watching you out of the corner of your eye. You quickly type in the 1 and then hover your finger over the button, ready to repeat the motion. You pause and look up, meeting his eyes.

“You wanna call my bluff or you wanna start talkin’?” and then you smile as you hear jesus fuckin’ christ muttered under his breath and watch him spend some more time straining against the ropes. “Get it over with, let’s go,” you repeat his words back to him in a bad impression of his gruff voice. His scowl deepens.

“I don’t,” he repeats. “I don’t choose ‘em.” He sighs, and you open your mouth to protest that he’s still holding back but before you can speak he continues, “I just take what’s there.”

“You don’t have a type?” 

“You seem to know everythin’, look at ‘em,” he nods towards the table where you have placed cut out photos from the missing posters next to the trinkets you found in his cabin. “Does it look like I have a type?” You remember the photos of men and women from all backgrounds on that table.

“So you just take whatever… whoever you can get?”

“Easier that way. Don’t have to go findin’ something specific.” He’s not making eye contact anymore, even though you have leaned in so far your faces are just inches apart. “Less suspicious that way too. Looks less like one person is pickin’ ‘em all off.” He shrugs, then quiets.

You lean back in your chair now, thinking over what he’s said. He’s been doing this for years. You could connect some of his souvenirs to known missing people but he had more items stuffed in his floorboards than you had pictures. So who knows how high his number really is.

“Is that all of ‘em?” nodding your head back towards the table again. His head is still down, seemingly very interested in a freckle on his left thigh. But you see a smile tug at one side of his mouth. He tries to hide it before you can see but it’s too late.

“Yeah,” he lies, unconvincingly. He doesn’t see you roll your eyes. God he’s shit at lying. 

You raise the phone up and wave it in front of his face, showing the 9-1 still dialed in. “Is that your final answer, honey?” He lets out a big sigh, like you’ve spoiled his fun. That’s right, we can’t have any fun around here, can we?

“Not exactly,” he grumbles. “Camping season is short ‘round here. Winter comes on quick. I have somewhere else I go sometimes,” he vaguely adds. He doesn’t elaborate further.

“Do you have sex with ‘em before or after you kill ‘em?” you ask, not even taking time to absorb his previous answer. His head snaps up to yours, his eyes wide.

“What?”

“Do you have se-”

“I don’t fuckin’ do that,” he spits, face contorted in disgust.

“Yeahhhh. But that’s what they all say. And, spoiler alert,” your voice goes high and teasing, “they ALL do it.” His face is still tight, mouth curled into a frown. 

“Well I fuckin’ don’t,” he looks back down at the freckle on his thigh, continuing to curse under his breath how disgusting you are for asking. “Killin’ doesn’t get me hard,” he snarls.

“Oh honey, I don’t know why you’re goin’ all shy on me now,” you coo, he’s still looking down, shaking his head now. “I’ve been in your little hidey-hole, ya know. It smells like fuckin’ loam ‘n body odor. I took a black light. That place is truly fuckin’ disgusting.” You adjust your glasses on your nose and continue, “I didn’t find a single cleaning product in the whole place. And now you’re gonna act like you’re not in there sprayin’ blood and cum all over the walls?” He doesn’t raise his head but his eyes meet yours under his eyebrows to scowl at you. You lean in till your noses almost touch. “A black light,” you repeat.

“That’s a huntin’ cabin sweetheart, and it wasn’t always mine. So I can’t tell you what yer little black light saw but it wasn’t me doin’ - that - with any ‘a them,” he nods to the table. 

Now you consider what he’s said and decide if you believe him or not. He’s a terrible liar, right? Maybe. Or maybe he’s just been playing you this entire time. You don’t give a shit that he’s a murderer. Anyone would murder under the right circumstances. But sexual assault? That’s a line you’d never cross. In fact, most of the men you’ve killed have been guilty of it themselves. Pigs, all of them, who’d stick their dicks anywhere for a moment of pleasure. They deserved what they got. Is this guy one of them?

“Well like I said, that’s what they all say, n-”

He interrupts, muttering jesus fuckin’ christ again, and more curses follow in whispers. “Is there fuckin’ evidence that I did any ‘a that? Any… sexual assault?” he spits the last two words out with particular venom, speaking the term for the first time.

“You’re askin’ if there’s any evidence on the months-old decomposing body parts found half-eaten in the woods?” You poke the freckle on his thigh he’s been seemingly obsessed with. “Surprisingly, no, there was not any evidence of sexual assault found.”

“Well then, there ya go,” he grunts out, as if that settles it. He clearly doesn’t want to talk about it anymore. You can’t tell if it’s from shame, discomfort, or disgust. He’s doing a good job pretending it’s disgust. Is he pretending?

You try to ask another question but he is done talking. He won’t look up from his lap now. You even hold up the cell phone again but he doesn’t flinch. He knows by now you’re not going to dial the police. He’s shut down. So you get up and pull your chair away, disappearing behind him for a moment. 

When you come back in front of him you sit on his lap, facing him, straddling his legs with yours. He looks up at you with cautious eyes and opens his mouth to say something - but say what you’re not sure. When he feels the sharp poke just under his ribs he stops short. He looks down and sees the 5” knife you have pressed into the soft spot where his sternum ends.

“I guess it’s time then, honey,” you hum. The hand not holding the knife traces the side of his face. He looks almost sad for one singular moment before his eyes turn hard and all the muscles in his face pull tight.

“If ya expect me to beg, you’re wastin’ yer time.” His pupils are blown wide. “Just do it.”

“How about you stop bein’ so bossy on our first date?” You lean in and kiss him on the nose, then the right cheek, then the left cheek. “Well…..  Our last date,” and you kiss him on the mouth.

You press your lips hard into his and wait. When he doesn’t relent you take your free hand and squeeze his cheeks, hard, forcing his mouth open. Risking him biting your tongue, you push it into his mouth. Your gamble pays off when he doesn’t bite but instead pushes his tongue back and forth along the length of yours.

You wrap your free arm around his shoulders, bracing yourself and grinding your body down into his naked lap. You press your chest into his as your hand moves to the back of his head and fists in his wild curls. You continue kissing him, tongues wrapping around each other, lips moving sloppily across each other’s mouths. 

You move your wet kisses down his jaw, mouthing at the patches in his graying, scruffy beard. You grab a handful of his hair and squeeze your fist, tugging gently at the roots. He grits his teeth and groans, attempting to buck his hips up. 

Of course he can’t move against the restraints, but you grind down again, and you can finally feel that he’s gotten hard through the baggy jeans you’re still wearing. You let a low chuckle slip out.

“I thought killin’ didn’t get you hard,” you smile against his mouth.

“Who am I killin’?” he mutters, still simmering with anger at the topic.

Oh yeah, you giggle, your breath ghosting across his neck. “I guess I’m the one who it’s gettin’ hard,” you whisper. 

You can’t help it. The anticipation of the kill is thrumming through your veins. It’s always like this, the energy, the electricity. Killing makes you feel more alive. You usually aren’t making out with them though. Never, in fact. This time feels different. You’re not sure why.

You lick a stripe up his neck, rolling your hips over his hardened length, and now he bites, nipping gently at your jaw. You squirm and the knife pokes harder into his abdomen. He inhales a sharp breath through his nose at the contact. You silence any additional protest by kissing him hard on the mouth again.

You pull back, face flushed and panting. He is looking at you with wild eyes and puffy lips, his hair pulled at strange angles from your hands running through it. Do you want to fuck this guy? You just brought him here to kill him but now you think you want to fuck him. This is a morally gray area. He’s bound to a chair and you have a knife at his ribs. Can he consent?

“Why’d ya stop?” he huffs out, bringing your attention back to him. “Are we doin’ this or what?”

“It feels kinda fucked up,” you say meekly, the first time he’s seeing any hesitation from you. You look down, twirling the knife against the rope crossing his chest. “It’s not gonna change my mind ‘bout what happens here ya know.”

“I didn’t say it would,” he says quietly, and you look back into his eyes. His eyes are dark, like fresh brewed coffee. They’d be kinda nice if they weren’t about to be on a dead guy.

“You…. you want this?”

“Why not?” he immediately answers.

“Because I’m gonna kill you after,” and even though you’re sure he doesn’t need the reminder, you poke him lightly in the ribs with the knife again, leaving a little red dot from the tip. He doesn’t react this time. He just lets a small smile ghost across his face and his eyes soften as they land on yours.

“What a way to go.”

It’s all you need to hear. You get up and uncinch the belt that is the only thing holding his pants up around your waist. As soon as it’s loosened, the pants fall to the floor, the belt buckle tinkling as it hits the concrete. You’re not wearing any underwear but the view of your cunt is obstructed by the long flannel shirt draped over you.

You take the knife and stick it in the edge of the shirt about breast-high, just above where you have the first button done up. You slowly drag the knife down the placket, cutting each button off easily with the very sharp blade. The buttons clatter to the floor one by one and when you’ve reached the last one, the shirt opens up a bit.

It’s just enough to see the valley between your breasts, a line of your soft stomach, the patch of hair on your mound, and your pink folds peeking out between your legs. You watch him looking you up and down, devouring the sight of you. His brown eyes now black with hunger. Now you can finally take the time to admire his body. 

Yes you had stripped him naked and then tied him to the chair. The whole process had taken nearly thirty minutes. Your hands had been all over him, this grown man you had to maneuver while he was unconscious. But that wasn’t about sex. That was just a body. And you’ve had your hands on plenty of bodies. It’s not sexual. 

But now…. now you can really admire him. He has a long and muscular neck, a broad chest, and freckle-dotted shoulders with strong muscles that continue down his thick arms. He isn’t very hairy but he does have soft arm hair, a little chest hair, and a trail of hair that starts beneath his belly button and continues down to a large patch around his cock.

His cock. Now you can appreciate what you were feeling on his lap. Why does it look so good? Cocks shouldn’t look this good. It’s fully hard, leaking precum and leaning against his stomach, his balls pulled tight at the bottom. You’re surprised to notice his pubic hair isn’t growing wild, it looks as if it was trimmed but has grown out a bit. His cock is both a little larger and a little thicker than what you know to be average. It’s not the biggest you’ve ever seen but that’s alright. In this context you aren’t looking for something that’s going to destroy you. You need to be able to walk later, you’ll have a body to dispose of.

You look back at his face and his eyes are meeting yours. You wonder if he can see the same hunger in your eyes that you saw in his. He’s smiling again but this time it’s not the same cocky grin as before, this one is genuine and filled with excitement. Your heart is pounding. You feel intoxicated. Is this the thrill of the kill or the sex?

Double ropes make an X across his chest, fastening his torso tight to the back of the chair. His arms and wrists are also bound to the back of the chair, causing his arms to be extended stiff at his sides, hands dangling towards the ground. Another X of the double rope crosses his thighs, attaching him to the seat of the chair, and his ankles are tied to the chair’s front legs.

You consider for one brief moment if untying any part of him would increase your enjoyment but quickly decide that’s not a good idea. Even if you might want his hands on your body, if you find them on your throat, it could all get very messy very quickly.

You give your shoulders a slight shrug and his flannel begins to fall off your shoulders, brushing down your arms as it falls to the ground. Now you stand before him completely bare. You don’t miss the fuuuck he silently mouths. Jesus christ what is this guy doing to you? You swear you just felt your clit twitch. 

It is now obvious more than ever the effect he’s having on you, as your unobstructed cunt is so wet that the cool air hitting your thighs makes you realize you are a fucking sopping mess down there. Not wanting to wait any longer, you straddle his thighs again. This time you don’t put your legs on either side but rather rest your legs on top of his. Your feet rest inside of his thighs right under his balls and your ankles and shins lay on top of his thighs. This position is you going give you the best leverage to raise and lower yourself, since you know he can’t help with driving his cock into you.

You can see his arms straining against the ropes. By now he should have learned that they’re too tight for him to move but you think this might just be out of habit. He wants to touch your body, you can tell by the way he moves his head forward - the only thing he can freely move forward - and laps his tongue anywhere he can reach.

You grab his face with one hand and crash your mouth onto his, a mess of teeth and lips and tongues. With your other hand, which is still holding the knife, you carefully use two fingers to tilt his cockhead directly under you and you slowly sink down on it.

You both let out wanton moans into each other’s mouths at the sensation. You continue to press down until he’s seated all the way inside you, and then you pause to let your body adjust. He feels bigger than he looked. Maybe it’s been a while since you’ve been with anyone but this feels borderline painful. You don’t move up and down but rock forward and backwards ever so slightly, giving yourself some more time. He groans a little bit, maybe impatient but you don’t care, and you just smile against his mouth.

You feel your own wetness dripping out of you, down around him, and you feel like you’re ready to go. Pulling your face back from his, you look in each other’s eyes, almost tenderly. You put both hands on top of his shoulders, careful to have a good grip on the knife but not have it too close to his skin. You don’t want to be the one to do anything prematurely in this situation. 

You start slowly at first, ignoring the quiet groans coming from him. He’s not whining but he doesn’t sound or look pleased with the pace you’ve set if the pained look on his face is any indication. You continue moving but grab his face to ask you good? The pained look immediately disappears from his face as his eyes snap open. He grunts and mutters a quiet it’s been awhile before he closes his eyes again, trying to focus.

“Don’t you end this early on me,” you warn. It’s a little funny to you when you realize that his punishment for doing that would be death. It shouldn’t be funny but it is. Probably because you’re fucked in the head. He barely reacts and just mutters I won’t between clenched teeth.

Your pace starts to pick up and you alternate between quite literally bouncing up and down on his cock, and grinding forwards and backwards on it. Each time you switch movements he lets out a strangled groan, clenching his eyes tighter. You can feel your orgasm start to build as a little ball of energy deep in your torso.

You picture what it would be like if he could put his hands on you. You take your own hands off his shoulders and run them up and down your thighs, careful to not let the blade hit either of your bodies. You run them across your stomach and up your ribcage, grabbing your breasts, the cold blade of the knife pressed against one of them. You cry out at the sensation and notice he has opened his eyes now and is watching you intently.

You throw your head back, squeezing your breasts, and bring two fingers to pinch each nipple until they’re over-sensitive and stinging. You look back down and watch his face, inches from your breasts, mesmerized. Without warning you shove one of them right into his mouth and he greedily accepts it, tonguing and biting your nipple. 

You continue to move on his lap, driving his cock in and out, up and down, filling you up, hitting all the right spots inside of you. Your bodies are sliding against each other, lubricated by the sheen of sweat covering them. The sounds of your skin slapping echoes off the walls. The slurping noises of his mouth are turning you on even more. You can feel your orgasm now just below the surface. You know you’re close. 

“I’m gonna come honey,” you moan. Jesus fuckin’ christ you hear him grunt beneath you, mouth still full of your breast.

You push yourself closer to him, pressed up against his chest, his mouth popping off your nipple. You wrap both arms around his neck and pull him tight, rutting hard and deep on his lap. It’s just there, so close. Then he latches his mouth onto your neck just below your jaw, and he sucks. 

A white-hot release immediately hits your body, spreading from the core out. It hits you so hard that you actually scream. Your movements stutter and slow as you work through your orgasm, feeling your pussy contracting on his cock.

Seconds later you hear him against your neck, a long and drawn-out moan, as you feel him releasing repeatedly inside of you. You continue gentle rocking motions against him until you feel his cock still. His mouth is still against your neck, breathing heavy breaths in between curses of jesus fuckin’ christ, and holy shit.

You push yourself up off him using the leverage from your shins on his thighs just enough for him to slip out of you, your combined release dripping out onto his lap. You lay your head down on one of his shoulders, gently kissing his neck. At the other shoulder, your arm rests with the knife dragging up and down along where his carotid artery lies.

You sit like that for a while, both of you catching your breaths, getting your bearings back. You are vaguely aware of the mess on his lap you’ll have to clean up later. It’ll have to wait. You think that orgasm made you dizzy. You’re pretty sure your legs will be jell-o for a bit. You haven’t felt like this in a long time. Fucked out and cockdrunk.

He is the first to speak.

“Can I ask you a question?” he says tentatively, “before ya….  ya know.”

“You have a question for me?” you scoff, “I’m flattered,” which is true, even considering what you’ve just done.

“Were ya serious about doin’ this before? The killin’ part?”

“Well yeah, what makes ya think I wasn’t serious?” you lift your head to look him in the eyes just in time to see him roll his.

“Probably the part where ya pretended to be Dexter-” he starts.

“Oh my god I can’t wait till you stop breathin’ so I don’t have to hear about that again. I was just trying to- ya know what? Nevermind,” and you push the blade forward into his neck a little. It’s hard enough to pierce the skin. It draws a couple drops of blood but you’re mostly just teasing him, since you have no desire to clean five liters of blood off the floor of this rented garage. But you can’t help the thrill that shoots into your stomach at the way he clenches in fear.

His body relaxes after a few seconds when he realizes you haven’t pushed the knife in any further. He had clenched his eyes shut, not letting you see the panic in them. Now they flutter open and meet yours, barely able to focus, your faces are so close together.

“My question was somethin’ else,” he mutters, barely audible over the sound of your pounding heartbeat whooshing in your ears. You say nothing, just continue to stare at him wide-eyed, unblinking. “My question was… why. Why do ya do it?”

You are taken aback. Literally and figuratively. You physically pull back from him, resting on your heels back where his knees are. Your hands remain on his shoulders, one still clutching the knife against his neck. Someone is looking for the answer, you think to yourself. It’s almost sweet that he thinks you have it.

“I do it for the same reason you do it.” You scan his face, searching for that smug smile, waiting for deception to play across it, for something. For anything. It doesn’t come. He genuinely doesn’t know. “I do it because it fucking feels good, honey.”

He just keeps your gaze, nodding his head slowly as he takes in your answer. He doesn’t ask anything else or add to your answer. He’s just considering it. You get up off his lap and fold up the knife in your hand, dropping it on the floor on top of the discarded flannel. You walk behind him again and grab the pre-filled syringe you set up. This is the way you like to do things. Clean. Efficient. No stains or smells to deal with later.

You walk up behind him, standing so you are pressed to the back of the chair, his head resting against your bare stomach. You put your hands down on top of his shoulders, the syringe in your dominant hand tapping against his skin. He looks down at it and then tilts his head back to look up at you.

“Why me?” he asks. Not whiny, like most people are. Just a curiosity. Why him? Why did you pick him? Out of everyone in the world, why is it him? It’s almost romantic.

“I thought it’d be fun. I mean, it’s always fun. But I thought it’d be more fun than usual, huntin’ someone like me. Well, almost like me. I’m better at it,” and you tap the syringe against his clavicle a few times, “obviously.”

“Well you weren’t exactly playin’ fair, were ya sweetheart?” he says in an accusing tone.

“How do ya mean?” you ask, your eyes going wide, insulted by the implication. “You knew people would be lookin’ around and askin’ questions, maybe even the police.”

“Yeahhh,” he concedes, “but the police‘re idiots.” He keeps his eyes on you, watching you nod your head in agreement. “I didn’t think I was up against someone like you.” He pauses and then flashes you a cocky grin. “Someone smart.”

“Oh stop, now you’re just tryin’ to flatter me,” and you swat the syringe on his shoulder.

“I’m not,” he says, still smiling.

“Kinda seems like you are, ya ol’ flirt.” and you wink down at him.

“No, what I’m tryin’ ta say is…” and he finally looks away, staring straight ahead before he delivers the next sentence. “I bet you couldn’t do it again.”

“Do what again?” You continue to look down at him but he’s still looking straight forward, not meeting your eyes.

“Catch me.”

Now you’re annoyed. “Honey it really wasn’t that fuckin’ hard the first time. I highly doubt th-”

“But,” he interrupts, “I bet you couldn’t do it again.” His cocky smile is back, head thrown back staring up at you again. “You couldn’t do it now that I know you’re lookin’ fer me. 

You push off his shoulders and walk around the front of him. Bending over, you pull his wallet out of the back pocket of his jeans laid on the floor. You’re gonna wipe that smug grin off his face once and for all. “Well Joel Miller,” and you read off his home address in Texas, “I really do think I could find you again.”

“Then do it.” His smile is gone. His face is expressionless. He’s just staring at you. “Find me again,” he taunts.

You drop the wallet back to the ground and sit down on his lap, almost considering what he’s saying. You run your hand on the side of his stupid smug little face, syringe still in the other hand. You lean your face to his and gently pepper his face with kisses.  

“Honey, I don’t want you sufferin’,” you coo between smooches. “Yer gonna miss me too much if I let you go.”

“How long you think I’d have to suffer?” he counters, “Hmm? How long you think it’d take you?”

“It took me less than a week this time honey. So probably not long,” you continue the kisses down his neck.

“Then come find me,” he growls, stilling your motions. “End my sufferin’.”

You pull back from him. Fuck. The thought of it made you undeniably excited. You were practically vibrating with anticipation and you weren’t even thinking about killing him anymore. This was about a chase. An honest-to-god chase with someone that might be something close to a challenge.

He had a point. You didn’t want to admit that to him, but he didn’t know you were looking for him. He had no idea there was someone like him in the area, whereas you had begun to suspect last summer, and had spent the last year putting pieces together and planning your trip this way. 

It did take you less than a week of moving around to different areas of the state land with your van, finding different places to camp, until you ran into him and his filthy little cabin. But you had spent much longer than that reviewing his victims, studying his patterns, and getting yourself into his mindset as best you could. 

He has confirmed your suspicions that he moved on after the summer to hunt somewhere else. But where else? Where he lives in Texas? Another off-the-grid cabin? It could be anywhere. It doesn’t matter. You’ll figure it out. 

The phone you’ve been threatening him to dial 9-1-1 with is actually his phone. You'd used his fingerprint to gain access while he was out cold and then changed the passcode to something that only you know. You can gather a lot of information on him from his cellphone. That will help and he doesn’t even yet realize you have it. 

You already have an upper hand on his little proposition. You’re already outsmarting him.

You press your lips to his one last time and stick the syringe’s small needle into his neck, pressing the plunger halfway down. With open eyes kissing him you see his eyes go wide and then shut. His entire body goes limp under yours, including his lips. His plush lips. You feel his heart still beating strong under your hand so you take the time to indulge, holding his head up and stealing a few more kisses before you have to start cleaning up.

*****

Joel wakes a while later, how long he’s not sure, but the room he’s in looks very different. The van is gone, as is the folding table covered in trophies and photos of his victims, as are you. In fact, very few things remain in the room. 

His clothes are folded in a stack on the floor in front of him. Next to them are his wallet and truck keys. Finally, there is a folded note stuck to his leg. It’s pinned to him with your five inch pocket knife having been driven into his thigh.

The restraints around his wrists have been cut so that he can reach forward to take the knife out of his leg. When he does, the note drifts to the floor a few feet away. He ignores the searing pain and blood now streaming from the wound on his leg and manages to work himself free of the rest of the ropes. 

He moves to stand up out of the chair and immediately his legs give out, collapsing him unceremoniously onto the floor. He is free of the chair for the first time in - judging by the physical state of him - what has probably been half a day. With shaky hands he reaches out and picks up the paper where it had fallen, unfolding it.

In pretty, looping handwriting it reads: ‘Catch ya later!   xoxo’ 

*****

READ THE NEXT PART HERE (THE CHASE - PART 1)

[mandiemegatron]

(ʸᵒᵘ ᴹᵃᵏᵉ ᴹᵉ ᴰᵒ) ᵀᵒᵒ ᴹᵘᶜʰ ᴸᵃᵇᵒᵘʳ

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ᴿᵃᵗᵉᵈ: 1８+, ˢᵉˣᵘᵃˡ ᵗʰᵉᵐᵉˢ ᵖʳᵉˢᵉⁿᵗ. ᵁⁿʳᵉᵠᵘᶦᵗᵉᵈ ˡᵒᵛᵉ, ᴸᵃʷ ʰᵃˢ ᵃⁿ ᵉᵐᵒᵗᶦᵒⁿᵃˡ ᵈᵉᶠᶦᶜᶦᵉⁿᶜʸ, ʸ/ⁿ ᶦˢ ᵉᵐᵒᵗᶦᵒⁿᵃˡˡʸ ᵗᵃᵏᵉⁿ ᵃᵈᵛᵃⁿᵗᵃᵍᵉ ᵒᶠ.

.𝕄𝔻ℕ𝕀.

Songs to listen to while reading ;

Labour // Paris Paloma (main)

Cynical // twocolors, Safri Duo

Never Go Back // Dennis Lloyd, Robin Shulz

As always, a huge smooch to my beta @moss-woods , couldn't have done this without you 🥺💖💋

Tagging ; @bby-deerling , @icy-spicy , @kazieai , @guilty-sugar , @buggyandthebartoclub 💖

It was never a tedious thing for you, to love Trafalgar Law the way you thought he deserved.

The soft brush of your hand over his shoulder as you brought him tea and a snack, the encouraging whispers of praise whenever he finally completed a particularly heavy weighted task on his already overloaded mind -

The soft smiles that he knew you reserved for him, and him alone.

It was new and strange to him, the way your eyes met his would make his heart skip a beat to the point he had to stop looking at you for a few days, secluding himself in his office with menial tasks just to take up the time.

When he finally emerged, you were standing right beside his door, a small stack of papers for him to sign and log in your palms with that same, gentle smile on your face.

His brain stopped, a primal urge rising in him as he rested a warm palm on your cheek, his thumb caressing along your skin lovingly. There were no words, just a shared stare of inner turmoil that he finally defeated by pulling you into a rough kiss.

Pulling you into his office, he shoved everything off his desk, a hazy desperation washing over him as he pulled you to him and seats you on his now empty desk. Tattooed fingers rip at your clothing, pulling the boiler suit down and off your beautiful body and dropping it off to the side as your own shaky fingers pull at his spotted pants.

You were almost shocked as he slaps your hands away, ripping his own clothes off into a pile next to your own, not giving you a single moment to think as he suddenly plunges a finger into your already soaked warmth. The low grumble that echoes in his chest sends shivers over your skin as your eyes fall shut, a moan leaving you as he adds a second finger.

His other hand slaps over your mouth a little too harshly, your eyes opening in pain to stare up at the glassy amber eyes of your Captain.

“Stay quiet,” he murmured, pressing an almost too soft kiss to your forehead as you give a slow nod. “Good girl.”

It was nothing but pure ecstasy for you, finally being under him the way you'd been dreaming of since you joined his crew. Your hands wander over his tattooed chest, fingertips grazing his pert nipples and pulling a soft hiss from him as his fingers curl upwards inside you.

Your mouth drops open as you squirt over his hand, eyes screwed shut as wave after wave of pleasure ripples through your body. They only snap open when you feel him tease your entrance with his cock.

Your eyes meet and there's a strange look on his face. He leans over you and presses a harsh kiss to your lips, his teeth biting at your bottom lip until he moves down, teeth nipping and lips sucking at your throat, leaving blooming bruises behind.

As he finally enters you, his name falls from your lips and one of his hands covers your mouth again. You're not upset by it, thinking you were just too loud again. He grinds his hips into yours slowly, his voice faltering as he quietly gets out, “Taking me so well, you're so good, so good…”

When you reach up and wrap your arms around his shoulders, something in him changes. He turns almost stiff under your touch, even as your lips press butterfly kisses to his jawline and cheek. In a flash, he's quick to take what he wants, his face buried in your neck as he grunts and groans softly into your skin.

You were so close to an actual orgasm, so close to falling from the edge when he suddenly pulled from you, furiously fisting his cock over your stomach and painting it in his sticky whites. He breathes heavily over you, unable to look you in the eyes, even as you raise a loving hand to brush his hair from his forehead.

You ignore the way your heart tugs when he pulls his face from out of your reach.

He grabs his shirt and cleans you off, tossing the soiled shirt off to the side as he murmurs, “Go wash up.”

You slowly gather yourself, worry seeping into your skin as you begin to ask, “... Law? Are you-”

He stops you by pressing a chaste kiss to the top of your head. “Just go wash up.” He repeats, still unable to look at you.

You sigh through your nose and gather your clothes, getting dressed in record time and reaching up to press a quick kiss to his jawline.

He, again, stiffens under your touch.

You frown slightly and finally leave his office for him to clean.

You bite back anxious tears until you reach the shower room, glad no one else was using any of them as you move towards the back. You turned off the furthest shower, stripping naked once more and tossing your clothes onto the small bench off to the side.

The second the hot water hit your skin, you began to sob. Something was wrong with what just happened and for some reason, your brain wouldn't let you process it. You finally gave the man you loved every inch of you, but somehow, you felt used.

It felt wrong.

You weren't sure how long you were in the shower for, not even noticing the water had gone ice cold. Your face was pale and sad as you turned the handle, the icy spray finally stopping its onslaught to your already frozen skin.

Wrapping a fluffy towel around you, you picked up your clothes into a bundle under your arm and padded off to your shared room with Ikkaku, opening the door and letting it shut behind you as you flopped face first onto your bed.

“Girl, what is with you?”

You turned your head to the side to see Ikkaku looking down at you with a worried expression.

“Are you sick? Do you want me to grab-”

“No!”

She jumped slightly as you shouted at her, panic and anxiety written in that one word as you slowly sat up onto your knees. You wrapped your cold hands around your just as chilly arms and whispered out brokenly,

“We…. Ya know….”

A surprised gasp came from Ikkaku and she shook you slightly by your shoulders, a wide grin on her face as she joined you on your bed.

“Ooo, you've been waiting for this! Well? How was it?”

You gave her a look that made her brows furrow. “... Oh god, was he that bad?!”

Your lips ticked up slightly as you gave a soft snort, shaking your head as you murmured,

“He was just… I don't know. It didn't feel like his heart was in it.”

Ikkaku's warm hands picked up your frozen ones, holding them to her chest as she asked softly,

“Not the way yours was?”

Tears pricked at your eyes as you nodded, falling forward into her now open arms, cradling your body to hers. Her hands gently rubbed over your back as she shushed you gently.

“It's okay, Y/N… it's okay.”

You somehow sobbed out,

“I love him.”

Ikkaku shushed you again, holding you tightly as she replied,

“I know girl, I know…”

The Polar Tang rested at a quiet island, swaying slightly with the waves. Most of the crew was on the island grabbing supplies, while a few stayed behind to watch the ship.

It had been three days.

Three days since you gave yourself to your Captain, heart, mind and soul.

You haven't seen him once.

Even when you tried to bring him his usual cup of tea, his door was locked and there was no answer behind it.

You were half-way through lunch prep when Shachi comes into the kitchen, leaning comfortably on the metal island as he watches you cut vegetables.

“Hey.”

You look up, slightly shocked that you were so into your thoughts that you didn't hear him come in.

“Hey! What's up, Shachi?”

There's a deep frown on his face, eyes watching you intently under his shades as he says,

“The Captain wants to see you.”

Your heart almost stops.

A small smile ticks up your lips as you breathe out,

“Finally. I was starting to think he hated me or something.”

Shachi gives you a wavering grin in response, motioning for you to follow him with a movement of his head. You place your knife down and rip off your apron, tossing it aside, following behind him quietly.

When you both make it to Law's office, Shachi is quick to pull you into a tight hug, sniffling softly as he murmurs,

“No matter what happens, we love you.”

You pull back in shock, your face confused as you ask,

“... what the fuck does that mean?”

Shachi sniffles and presses a quick kiss to your forehead before opening the office door and pushing you into it. You give an indignant shout in response, grunting softly as you finally turn as you take in your Captain.

He sits quietly at his desk, his hands clasped together on top of the mahogany wood comfortably. He stares you down, the look in his eyes unrecognizable as you sit in the chair opposite his, your own hands clasped and resting in your lap.

“Y/N.”

Your heart breaks at the way he says your name without the usual suffix at the end.

“... Captain.” You reply softly.

Law internally winces at the way you speak. He gives a heavy sigh, taking his hat off and plopping it on the desk before running a hand through his hair. He's clearly looking for the right words to say, causing you to watch him with a slowly breaking heart.

“... Y/N, what we did… that was a mistake.”

Your eyes immediately filled with tears.

“I shouldn't have taken advantage of you like that. You have my sincerest apologies.”

You sniffled, crossing your arms over your chest as if to protect your shattering heart.

“I don't have feelings for you like that, and I don't think I ever will. You are my subordinate, I am your Captain, and that's how it has to stay.”

You were silent for a long while, angry tears cascading down your cheeks as you thought about everything that happened between you both since you joined.

None of it mattered.

“Y/N?”

Slowly, you lifted your head, your eyes meeting his and for the first time, you saw shock wash across his face. He sat back in his chair slightly, unsure of what to say.

After a few moments, you stood, making your way to the door when he stopped you with a soft,

“Y/N-ya?”

You froze in your spot, pure fury rushing through you as you spun around and spat out,

“Fuck you, Law. You knew, you fucking knew, and you still took from me. That's all people like you do, is take, take, take, until people like me are left with NOTHING. I gave you my EVERYTHING, and IT STILL WASN'T ENOUGH?!”

You were shouting by the end. A small smidgen of pride washed over you at the look on Law's face, obviously not expecting you to snap at him like this.

“I loved you, I bent over backwards for you over and over, I did everything you asked of me and more, and yet even when I finally give you my body and my soul, you essentially tell me you don't care? You don't want me?”

Angry tears rushed down your face as you poured out your heart to him. His eyes had moved to his desk at some point, physically unable to look at you as you verbally tore him apart.

“That's fine. Enjoy your fucking karma, you fucking bastard.”

You ripped his door open and slammed it shut behind you, your boots slamming against the metal floor as you ran to your room. Reaching under your bed, you pulled up your duffle bag and began filling it, shoving everything you had into the bag until it was almost unable to close.

You didn't want to risk bumping into anyone with your bag so you opened the porthole window in your room, looking down and sighing happily when you saw your window was above the wooden dock. Tossing your bag out the window, you were just about to jump out and down when your door ripped open, a very anxious looking Law standing there watching you with wide eyes.

“Y/N-ya, don't do anything stupid!”

He took a step into your room and you gave him the middle finger, snarling at him,

“Eat shit, Trafalgar.”

You jumped.

You didn't look back up as your name met your ears, shaking off the tingling in your legs from falling from a decent height. You pulled your bag over your shoulder, kicking your feet into high gear as you suddenly hear,

“Room!”

You watch the soft blue bubble slowly surround you and you move as fast as you physically can, giving a shout of anger as you pop outside of the bubble right as you hear,

“Shambles!”

You spare a glance behind you, seeing a few boards from the dock missing, papers from your room now floating down into the water below. You shake your head slightly and continue running, ignoring the pain in your now ex-captains voice as he shouts for you again.

“Y/N-ya!”

You kept running until his voice was out of earshot, your angry and hurt tears nearly blinding you as you ran into a densely forested area. You were wiping at your eyes when you bumped into someone, falling back onto your ass with a shout of pain as your palms dug into the grassy ground.

“Oi! Watch where you're going, you brat!”

Your watery gaze looks up and you're shocked to see the redheaded Eustass Kid, one flesh arm and one metal crossed over each other on his massive chest.

It takes him a second, but he grins wickedly as he barks out,

“Well, if it ain't Trafalgar's little bitch! What the hell are you doing here?”

He cackles at the dark look you give him, slowly standing and brushing yourself off as you pick up your bag from the ground.

“Fuck you, Eustass. I'm not his bitch, and he's not my Captain. Not anymore, at least.”

Kid sneers down at you.

“The fuck does that mean?”

You sniffled and rubbed at your face angrily before tossing your bag over your shoulder and attempting to walk past him.

“It means what I fucking said, are you deaf?”

A heavy hand angrily pulls you back and your back is pressed against rough bark, Eustass’ scarred face inches from yours as he leans down to bark again,

“What the fuck does that mean?”

You glare back at him as you bark back,

“It means he wants nothing to do with me. It means, he took what he wanted from me and it still wasn't enough. He doesn't give a FUCK about me.”

There was something in Kid's eyes that flickered at your words. He gently puts you back down, leaning back up as he watches you rub at your eyes again.

He's silent for a few moments before he replies,

“Come on.”

You gave him a wary look.

“... why?”

Eustass only replies with a wide grin, cackling loudly for a moment before commenting as if speaking about the weather,

“I hate seeing gorgeous women cry.”

Your cheeks burn at his words, your mouth opening to snarl back a reply when you suddenly are stopped by him continuing,

“That and it's gonna get dark soon, you're not gonna wanna be here when it does. But that's up to you, brat.”

He begins walking away as he shouts over his shoulder,

“I could always use strong fighters on my crew, but if you wanna die out here like a dog, that's on you.”

You stare at his back, confused and anxious as your hand tightens around your bag strap.

You weigh over the pros and cons of leaving one pirate crew for another, especially ones from the Worst Generation.

It takes you only seconds to pull yourself together and run after him.

For an entire 24 hours, the entire crew minus Bepo search the island high and low for any trace of Y/N.

Law is furious as he paces in front of the Polar Tang, arms crossed as he waits for his Den Den to ring with news that someone had found you.

When night finally fell, Law continued to grow anxious, checking his pocket watch (a gift from you which now wretched his heart whenever he looked at it) and giving a grunt in irritation as he stared down at his resting Den Den. He pokes it gently to wake it up, the snail's eyes blinking tiredly up at his master before frowning.

“Call her.”

In an act that shocked Law, the Den Den slowly turned away from his owner and went back to sleep. The Heart Pirate Captain stood in utter confusion and slowly growing anger, he manually picked up the receiver and dialed Y/N's Den Den.

His heart sank lower and lower as it rang and rang, the soft peru-peru-peru echoing in his head.

His heart jumped when there was finally the soft click-clack of someone picking up the other end and Law quickly asked,

“Y/N-ya? Please, I'm sorry-”

He stopped as a familiar voice came through.

“Captain…”

Angry tears pricked at Law's eyes as he hissed out,

“Bepo?”

The mink sniffled on the other end before sobbing out,

“... She left her behind.”

Law slammed his own receiver down a little too hard, causing his Den Den to give a low hiss in pain. He rubbed at his face with a shout of irritation, huffing to himself.

He lifted his face at the sound of boots crunching into the gravel, hope rising in his chest as he took in the boiler suits coming closer to the Tang.

His heart drops as Shachi shakes his head once he's close enough, clapping a heavy hand on Law's shoulder as he murmurs,

“She's gone, boss.”

Law sighed softly through his nose, finally accepting the fate of his ex-crewmate. He picks up his Den Den and walks back into the Tang, ignoring the questions or comforting words from his crew.

In the silence of his room, Law holds a silly drawing you did of you both, a rare smile on Law's face in your art that pulls at his heartstrings. He smooshes the paper to his chest for a moment before placing it aside, sitting up and immediately meeting his black Corazon jacket resting in the chair you used to take up.

“... Cora-san…” he murmured as he rested his elbows on his knees, his face falling into his palms as he quietly asks,

“What have I done?”

[elfwithantlers]

Runic stone

[oneshotnewbie]

Reader walks through fire to save Emily Prentiss. That's it, that's the prompt. You can decide what you do with it. Thank you 💖

Authors note: Somehow lately I've had a thing for long oneshots that go well over the actual 1000 words. I just can't stop writing once I start haha. I wish you a nice start to the week ♥

⚠️Trigger Warning⚠️ This one-shot includes the slight mention of burn injuries and fainting. The plots are presented. If this triggers you too easily or you just can´t handle the subject, I urge you NOT to read this work. I am NOT embellishing this topic under any circumstance. Read at your own risk.

ᕚ---ᕘ

As Special Agent Emily Prentiss and you brought your car to a stop on a remote forest path, the dense treetops reached high into the sky, forming an impenetrable canopy of leaves that barely let in the light of the sun. It seemed as if nature itself wanted to keep a secret as a cold wind blew through the branches, carrying with it the whispers of the leaves.

A brief exchange of glances between Emily and you revealed the determination burning within you as you checked your gear and got your vests ready. As a well-rehearsed duo in the FBI's Behavioral Analysis Unit, you were familiar with the darkest depths of the human psyche and had faced the most dangerous criminals. But even for you, this case was of unusual intensity.

A series of brutal murders had terrified residents living on the edge of the Arkansas grove. The victims appeared to be chosen at random, and every lead the team found at the crime scene led to a dead end. But now a clue had led you here, to this dark place that was far from any civilization.

Together you made your way down the rocky and arduous path deeper into the forest, the cracking of twigs under your boots and the occasional call of a bird accompanied you like a dark melody. Imbued in your minds was the determination to solve this mystery and put an end to the evil that threatened the innocent inhabitants of this remote area.

Eventually you came to a small clearing dominated by a dilapidated log cabin. The centuries-old wooden walls were overgrown with moss and ivy, which covered the abandoned building like a veil. The windows stood empty and dark, like the eyes of a ghost from a bygone era, silently bearing witness to long-forgotten stories.

Emily sensed an eerie presence that seemed to emanate from the place, as if the walls themselves spoke of the horrors they had experienced. But she forced herself to suppress her fear and focused her gaze on the task before you both. Despite the ominous feeling that surrounded the place, your resolve remained unbroken as you prepared to explore the secrets of this mysterious place.             

“Ah, here we are,” you whispered quietly to her as you crouched and crept up to the entrance, gun drawn. "Let's see what we can find and finally close the case."

You entered the abandoned building together, your flashlights cutting through the darkness and illuminating the path before you. A hint of decay hung heavy in the air as the old parquet floors crunched beneath your feet as if revealing the secrets of the building beneath you. But your resolve was still unshakable, and you searched every room with meticulous care, looking for clues that could solve the mystery.

As you began to move further into the next room, Emily paused in her position in the largest room and raised a hand to silence you before you could even begin to speak. You listened intently, and a quiet but distinct sound reached your ears - a gentle breeze that seemed to whisper through the gaps between the door and the frame.

“Over there,” Emily whispered as you returned to her, pointing to a locked door at the end of the hallway. The two of you approached the door slowly, your hearts pounding loudly in your ears as if anticipating the rhythm of the horror to come. With a quick nod, you released the lock on the door and entered the room first.

What unfolded before you chilled your blood. In the middle of the room sat an altar made of weathered stone, surrounded by extinguished candles and mysterious symbols that formed a dark coven around it. On the walls hung grotesque paintings of dark figures whose eyes seemed to pierce you, as if they wanted to explore your soul.

But the horror reached its climax with the sight of the body lying on the altar - a young girl, bound and mutilated, her face contorted in pain while an iron stake protruded from her chest, her breathing long stopped. The sight of her echoed in your mind, a cruel testament to the evil that permeated the place.

"What have we gotten ourselves into?" you asked, an ice-cold shiver running down your spine as the ominous scene before you slowly took shape. Emily shrugged, her gaze caught by the gloomy atmosphere as she swallowed hard to maintain her composure. "We have to get out of here and call for backup," she said firmly, but the undertone betrayed the growing concern that threatened to overwhelm her too. She signaled for you to back off as she took a few steps back to give you cover. "This is bigger than we thought."

You nodded in agreement, but before you could take a step, another sound echoed across the ceiling - a soft rustling, followed by an ominous hissing that seemed to be emanating from a hidden pipe, accompanied by the pungent smell of smoke coming from beneath the door.

Panic rose within you as you realized that you possibly were in danger and that the rest of the team might be taking too long to reach you. You were trapped, surrounded by the dark remnants of a ritual space that seemed to harbor evil and now encircled you menacingly.

As you walked up the short steps and opened the door to leave the basement, and hastily return to your vehicle to call for backup, the blockhouse was engulfed in thick smoke.

Emily felt the heat rising on her skin and the acrid smoke entering her lungs as she coughed and pressed her sweater under her nose to escape the choking smoke. "We have to get out of here!" she shouted over the infernal crackling of the fire, which threatened to spread greedily, as if it was hungry for more fuel.

You nodded in agreement and reached for her hand, and together you fought your way through the impenetrable fog, your eyes burning with tears as you searched for a way out of this nightmare. But the fire, which had spread for reasons still unknown, seemed to cut off your path, your every movement blocked by a wall of heat that threatened you and that blocked your view. You didn't know where the exit was. Every step you took brought you closer to the certainty that you were surrounded by the merciless forces of destruction that were driving you closer to the abyss with every second.

Fear gripped both of you tightly as you looked around and realized the terrible reality. The flames around you burned higher and higher, their glowing tongues lashing out greedily at everything in their path, spreading an atmosphere of desperation and chaos.

And as you progressed on your way, you suddeny saw the outline of a dark figure. You strained to sharpen your focus, to heighten your senses in this inferno. "The perpetrator! He's here!" You shouted out to Emily, your voice filled with determination as you moved resolutely towards the unknown, clutching your gun tightly, the desire for justice burning in your heart.

But in the rush of the moment, you didn't notice that Emily wasn't following you, her own thoughts torn apart by the urgency of the situation. Her eyes searched desperately for a way out of this blazing hellfire as she fought within herself against the panic that threatened to overwhelm her.

But as you got closer, you realized with horror that it wasn't the murderer, but just a shadow dancing in the pale light of the flames. A moment of relief quickly gave way to anxiety as you realized that the perpetrator was still lurking somewhere in the dark corners while you had lost sight of him. And now you were separated from Emily, your ally, your anchor in this burning hell.

Emily called out to you, but her voice was swallowed up by the angry crackling of the flames that raged around her like a wild animal. Her heart began to race involuntarily as she looked around and realized the cruel reality - she was completely alone, surrounded by the surging waves of fire that threatened to consume her and destroy her existence.

With her back pressed against the wall, she pressed her flashlight hard into the fog that permeated the room, hoping that the beam of light would attract you and lead you back to her. “Y/n, I’m here!” she cried desperately, her voice laced with the pain of isolation. "I'm trapped in the flames. Follow the light, please!" Her words echoed through the burning room, a silent cry for help amid the raging inferno.

Less than a minute later she heard a faint sound rising above the roar of the fire - the sound of a figure, a jacket over your head, fighting through the flames to get to her.

Emily turned to the side and watched in horror as you emerged from the blazing inferno, your face contorted with pain, your clothes scorched by them, and your skin marked by the cruel scars of the fire. “Oh my god, y/n!” she shouted, her voice filled with fear as you fell the last few inches towards her, her eyes wide in terror. "What have you done?"

You couldn't speak a word; the pain unbearable, your voice paralyzed by the torment of the fire. Your only job was to get your partner safely out of this burning house, so you placed a wet blanket over her head and body before carefully guiding her out of the flames, yourself also hidden under the blanket to protect yourself from further burns.

Her hand gripped yours tightly as she pulled you closer to her, feeling the pain and heat of your skin. "Y/n, you are seriously injured. Let me guide you," she whispered softly as she placed your arm over her shoulder, but the adrenaline rushed through your body, your mind numb from the agony that was coursing through you, her words unheard.

You struggled through the flames, your senses numbed by the unrelenting burn that accompanied you as you leaned heavily on Emily. Every step was agony, every breath a fight against the heat and smoke that threatened to suffocate your lungs. But despite the darkness of the inferno, you did not give up, but continued to fight, driven by the irrepressible will to bring Emily and yourself to safety, out of this hellfire.

As you finally made it out into the open and made your way to safety, a deafening bang ripped through the air, followed by a blinding flash of light that pierced the dark clouds of smoke and bathed the night in blinding daylight. Emily and you were thrown to the ground by the force of the explosion, the impact shattering your bodies as chaos erupted around you.

Fire shot out of the windows of the log cabin and quickly spread to the surrounding trees, the forest itself was going up in flames. The air was filled with an infernal crackling and hissing that shook the ground. The forest immediately became a burning fortress, enveloped in an impenetrable veil of flames that seemed to block any possibility of escape. "Y/n, get up," Emily urged, her voice firm and determined as she leaned towards you, "We have to get out of here. I'm going to take you to the hospital to get you looked after." Her words pierced the chaotic scene, a promise of rescue and hope amid the tumult of flames.

She shook your motionless body, but you didn't move. The adrenaline that had once fueled your senses was gone, and now your body was collapsing like a house of cards blown away by a merciless breeze. Emily gently turned your lifeless body onto its back, an act of tenderness in the midst of chaos that reflected your sacrifice and bravery - you had gone through hell to save her.

Half your body was scorched by the flames, your skin scarred by the fire, and your breathing was shallow and uneven, a faint sign of your struggle to survive.

Emily fought the panic that overcame her when she saw your badly injured body. "Stay with me, y/n," she whispered, her voice cracking with fear as the flames around her licked at the trees and ate through the undergrowth, a warning sign of destruction. "You can do this, you hear me? You have to do this. Please, y/n."

But you didn't move, unconscious and silent as death itself. Emily felt the tears burning in her eyes, but she forced herself to stay strong so as not to give up on you. Her hands rested gently on your bruised skin, a silent vow of loyalty and hope amidst the flames.

Emily pulled her cell phone out of her pocket, her fingers shaking with tension as she dialed the number for her boss, Aaron Hotchner. She raised the phone to her ear, hoping for a connection as the chaos raged around her, the flames spreading unstoppably.

"Hotch, we need help urgently," she said, her voice firm and controlled even as fear burned in her heart. "Y/n is seriously injured, we need firefighters and paramedics here. The whole forest is burning down. Now!"

He reassured her that help and the team was on the way, and Emily put the phone away, her thoughts entirely on you, still lying motionless in front of her. "Please, y/n. Wake up," she pleaded, running her hand gently over your burned neck, as if she could call life back into you through the touch. "You have to fight, you hear me? You can't give up."

The minutes passed like hours as Emily waited, her eyes fixed on you, counting every breath, watching every movement of your body as she evaluated your vitals every second. But nothing changed, you remained motionless, your face expressionless like a mask of ash, and your thoughts swirled in a whirlpool of fear and hope.

Finally, the sound of engines pierced the oppressive silence as firefighters burst through the flames and rushed to your rescue. She was accompanied by the paramedics who immediately lifted you onto a stretcher and took you into the ambulance while she followed you with a worried look, closely watching the rescuers' every move.

The ambulance raced through the mountainous streets, sirens blaring across the countryside, as Emily sat next to you, holding your hand tightly amidst the furious roar of the sirens and the rattling engine.

ᕚ---ᕘ

The bright morning light filtered gently through the hospital room window as you slowly came to consciousness. Every breath was accompanied by pain, every muscle in your body felt like it was filled with lead. A silent struggle against the stabbing pain shot through you as you tried to move, only to be thrown back into the soft hospital bed by a painful retreat.

Emily sat by your bed, her eyes full of concern, her hand gently stroking your fingers as if she was trying to ease your pain with her touch. Noticing you had awakened, a soft smile broke across her lips as she reached for your hand that wasn't injured. “Welcome back, y/n,” she whispered quietly, her voice warm and sensitive. "How do you feel?"

You tried to speak, but your voice was only a hoarse whisper, choked by the pain of your injuries, and you coughed painfully. Emily handed you a glass of water and gently held it to your lips, helping you take a slow sip before continuing. "It's okay, speak slowly," she encouraged patiently. "You've had a tough time, but we're here to support you." Her words were a promise of care and hope in the midst of the darkness you had lived through.

You nodded slowly, your mind raging like wild whirlwinds, flooding with memories of the past mission - the fire, the flames, the heat that had penetrated your skin. And then there was Emily, strong and unwavering, standing next to you and holding you as your body slowly gave out and you tried desperately to get her out of harm's way.

“I remember,” you finally whispered, your eyes cloudy with pain as you tried to form the words through the thick fog of memories. A faint hint of understanding crossed Emily's face as she heard your words, her eyes full of empathy and compassion.

"You literally walked through fire to save me," she spoke quietly, her voice laced with a hint of awe as tears pooled in her eyes, glittering like diamonds in the light.

A faint smile crossed your lips, trembling with exertion, as you slowly raised your hand and placed it gently on her cheek, your touch a delicate promise of love and devotion. “You were inside,” you murmured quietly, your voice a whisper in the quiet of the hospital room. "No fire in the world would stop me from saving you. I can't lose you." The words were a confession that reached deeper than words could, a promise that was anchored in the infinite expanses of your connection.

Emily reached for your hand, her touch as delicate as a gentle breath as she leaned against you, letting her tears flow freely. "Thank you for coming to get me," she spoke, her voice filled with admiration and gratitude. "You are incredibly brave. I was deeply impressed by your courage and willingness to sacrifice. I will always be there for you, just as you were there for me."

Your eyes shined with gratitude and a hint of relief. You knew the road to recovery would be long and difficult, but you also knew you didn't have to walk it alone. You had Emily by your side, strong and unwavering, and the team that supported you. Together you would overcome this challenge, side by side, hand in hand, ready to weather any storm that blew your way.

You knew that the bond between you both was strong, strengthened by the flames of fate you had traversed together. And so began a journey of recovery and growth for you that would bring you closer together than ever before. Every step you took together would show you that the love and connection you felt for each other was stronger than any darkness that threatened you.

[pandoraslxna]

⋆｡° ✮ minors dni 🔞

⋆｡° ✮ Kinktober masterlist

⋆｡° ✮ Warnings: masturbation, praise, dirty talk, sexual tension

"Show me how humans do it. How you like it", you said, meaning to make it sound like this was for an educational purpose, but Spider had gotten this look in his eyes as he gave you a lazy grin and said, "Okay", yanking his loincloth off like being naked is the most natural thing to him. Like you’re the strange human that can’t bear a little skin and he’s the Na’vi. And then he sat down naked against a moss covered log, sprawled out like he owns the place, his dick hard against his stomach.

"Kinda like this", he begins to explain.

He doesn’t look embarrassed, you think, shifting in your seat, cross-legged with your back against a tree and still fully dressed. But somehow you’re the awkward one.

Your heart is beating too fast, your tail nervously thumping against the soft ground and this is all wrong. You shouldn’t fool around with a human, a demon, should’ve stayed curious and not ask him about the sky people’s biology which ultimately lead to questions about his dick and if it was retractable too and then somehow, eywa knows how, to you asking him to jerk off in front of you so you could watch. Your natural curiosity be dammed!

Spider shouldn’t be on display, way over there, sliding a hand down his bare stomach, over painted on stripes, to curl around the base of his cock. He shouldn’t be making you watch the way he rubs his thumb over the crown, the way his hips hitch into his fist and his face creases in a moment of pleasure.

You shift again, trying to get comfortable, and Spider smirks at you. There’s heat spreading in your core, an ache under your loincloth, and you untangle your legs to spread them, running a hand over the thin fabric between your thighs just to take the edge off. Spider watches, then gives his dick a squeeze from root to tip, arching his neck, and you can see the light gleam off a bead of pre-cum leaking from his slit. You swallow hard, dainty fingertips rubbing over the outline of your clit slowly.

"I like it slow", Spider says, huffing a little, and you’re not entirely sure if he was talking about himself or you, because his eyes are completely fixed on the way your run your fingers over your clothed cunt. "At first", he adds, then tugs at his cock, like he has a million years and you aren’t absolutely dying over here. He rolls his balls gently between his fingers with his other hand, pulls down slowly and lets a moan slip out.

You embarrass yourself a little by echoing it, but his cock seems to jump in sympathy. Then he jerks it a little faster, and you can’t help but pull your loincloth to the side, to insert two slender digits into your seeping entrance. Spider shivers at the sight.

"I like having my cock sucked", he says ever so nonchalantly, "like it when it’s messy, so—“ and then he sticks his tongue out and let’s spit fall onto his palm, before closing it around his shaft, coating it in the clear liquid. He’s rocking into the pleasure, just a little, and then works his fingers over the head of his dick, feeling it leak and pulse, and you nod. You’re listening.

"Fuck, that’s it”, Spider sighs, and he spreads his knees farther apart. His balls hang heavy and full between his thighs, and his dick -not retractable, by the way- is standing up big and hard from his fist, and your mouth is watering. You swallow again, rolling your hips up into your hand to try and get your fingers deeper inside, curling them a little higher and then you moan, loud.

"You good?", Spider chuckles, but there’s a strain in his voice, like he’s trying to sound calm and collected, but he’s not. Not by the pace he’s stroking his cock right now.

"Spider", you whimper, but you actually meant to say, this is crazy, just get over here and fuck me, but you kind of trailed off and whimpered instead. Your face is hot and you can feel sweat running down your spine, and your poor little clit is throbbing with your own heartbeat.

Spider’s hand is working faster and faster, slick with pre-cum and spit, sliding smoothly up and down his thick shaft. Every other stroke ends with a little twist of his fingers that rubs the underside of his cockhead, and he licks his lips as he stares at you, eyes open, gaze intent.

You can’t stand it any longer, the waiting, the watching, the wanting, and you can barely catch your breath.

"You’re gonna come, huh?", he chuckles, throwing his head back for a brief second, exhaling shakily, before he looks back at you again. "Yeah, and then I like– oh, fuck– I like it just fast and hard at the end, I like to, to fuck my fist, imagine it’s a pretty na‘vi girl sucking me off. Or bouncing on my cock. Fuck, you look good baby, gettin’ off on watching me."

"I’m not–", you start to say, but that’s stupid, because you totally are, and you’re so close it physically hurts to hold it back.

"Shit", he groans, his hand a blur, his face creasing in concentration, "I’m gonna come, oh fuck, I’m gonna–"

"Hmh, me t-too", you nod, rubbing your clit frantically. "Yes, fuck– ohh, fucking hell", Spider chants, fuck, fuck, fuck and then he comes.

You love the way his pink cock swells up hard and massive, the thick, sloppy spurts of cum, and the noises he makes as he kicks his hips up and shoots all over his belly, working himself through it with one hand still jacking his cock and the other clamped tightly around his own leg. His thighs work as he fucks his fist, muscles bunching, his abs rippling, and your own orgasm hits you like lightning shooting down your spine, soaking right through your loincloth, shuddering helplessly as you hump your palm, wriggling your fingers against your clit.

It takes an awful while for you to catch your breath after that, and while your gaze still seems unfocused and hazy, Spider already cocks his brow at you, proudly displaying his stamina as he gives a lazy stroke to his cum slicked and already half hard dick.

"Now that this question is out of the way", he starts, his lips parting into a sharp grin, "do you want me to show you how we humans fuck?"

[urlocalfeiner]

two lost souls | neteyam sully

chapter 2 | chapter 1 | chapter 3 coming soon ..

warnings: series! swearing, neteyam being whipped for you, protectiveness, fluff, guns, childhood bestfriends to lovers

summary: you and neteyam grew up together, attached at the hip since young and that never changed as the two of you grew older. what did change was the fact the two of you began to develop feelings for one another that simple best friends don't hold- two lost souls longing to feel the touch of the other.as everything around you changes when you travel with the sully family to seek refuge in the metkayina clan, you and neteyam's feelings for each other don't- they grow to be unbearable, until everything comes to the surface.

series masterlist!

"you're so slow, nete!" you shouted behind you to neteyam as the two of you ran through the lush forest of pandora. but as you glanced behind you again to where neteyam had been rushing closely behind you he was no longer there- stopping you looked around confused. "neteyam? neteya-" you jumped back slightly as you turned back around to see him standing on a branch a couple feet away from you.

"who's the slow one now?" he smirked at you in victory, proud of himself.

"you think you are so funny." you rolled your eyes playfully at him, as he jumped down from the branch down to you.

"i am funny." he grinned back, walking closer to you. "i won, by the way."

you shoved him playfully, "no you didn't, you cheated." he raised an eyebrow at you, tugging your tail playfully back as you yelped smacking his hand away.

"maybe i am just faster than you." neteyam quickly dodged your attempt to tug his tail and shrugged, smirking at the glare you were giving him- he thought you were so cute when you were mad.

"oh yeah?" you tilted your head at him, as he nodded. "who was the one in front of you the whole time?" you smirked back at him, crossing your arms over your chest waiting for the answer.

neteyam chuckled, shaking his head which made his braids sway. "okay, okay you won." you grinned but before you could speak he spoke again. "but i am going to win next time." he pointed his finger at you playfully.

"we will see, nete." you said as you turned around hopping over a log as neteyam followed closely behind you- you admired the beauty of the forest, eyes glimmering with curiosity as you looked around. you had grown up surrounded by the forest yet your sure you will never get use to how beautiful it was.

neteyam was admiring something else though, he was admiring you- you were so gorgeous when you were gazing around you. his eyes followed your every movement, admiring your beauty. he saw you everyday, yet your beauty never failed to amaze him.

"what are you staring at?" you smirked, quipping an eyebrow at the small blush that began to form on his cheeks. neteyam was not one to get flustered nor to be nervous by the presence of someone- but you seemed to test him, he felt swarms of Ikrans in his stomach when you looked into his eyes.

"the most beautiful woman in the clan." you felt your cheeks burn, turning your face quickly away from him- a smile making it's way to your face.

"oh, neteyam stop it." you walked further into the forest, running your fingers across the moss that covered the trees.

neteyam quickly caught up to you, walking right beside you. "i do not lie." you turned your head to him, stopping in place.

you grinned widely up at him, tilting your head slightly. "you are too kind, nete."

"well, i am a man that speaks the truth."

you chuckled, "you are a boy, not a man." he glared at you playfully, before pulling on your hair grinning. you were not happy though, it hurt. "you skxqwng!" you tried to get back at him, but he swiftly managed to dodge all of your attacks- laughing. "i hate you." you glared at him, giving up on trying to get back at him.

he put a hand over his chest, dramatically. "oh no, please do not hate me." you fought back a smile at his acting, "please forgive me."

you giggled, putting your hand over your mouth. “you’re so weird.” you laughed out earning a small laugh from neteyam.

“only for you.” he said- he meant it, he would not be like this with anyone else except for you. you were the only one outside his family that saw this side of him.

before you could reply back you got interrupted by neteyam’s father speaking on neteyam’s ear piece. “yes, sir.” he nodded, “i’ll be there.” taking his fingers off his ear piece he turned back to you with an apologetic expression. “i’m so sorr-“

you laughed shoving him slightly, you already knew what he was going to say “don’t be sorry, go mighty warrior.” he opened his mouth once more but you again knew him all too well. “i’ll be fine, i’m going to go find the others- now go before your dad skins you!”

neteyam laughed giving you one last goodbye as he rushed off to go meet his father and mother, but stopped dead in his tracks and turned back around to meet you again. “our spot?” he asked a couple feet away from you.

“our spot.” you nodded, grinning. “don’t be late.” you shouted again as he he grinned widely like a lovesick skxqwng- which he was.

“i am never late.” he replied before calling his ikran, bidding you one last glance before taking off to join his parents.

you and neteyam's spot. it was just a small little pond surrounded by rocks and trees- you and him had stumbled across it when you were 6 and ever since then the two of you had gone to it whenever you wanted to. but lately neteyam and you had been using it as an escape from all your duties- well, mostly neteyam. the two of you would spend hours at the small pond, talking about eywa knows what. just enjoying the simple presence of one another.

sighing you walked through the forest in search of lo'ak, kiri, spider and tuk- you knew for a fact they were wondering around somewhere. your theory was proved right when you heard lo'ak.

"you're not suppose to go to the battlefield- i'll tell mum if you don't let me come." you rolled your eyes- knowing he was mocking tuk as you heard her blow a raspberry at him.

"don't be mean to tuk." you came out of the bushes, joining the group who all snapped their heads to the sound of your voice.

"y/n!" tuk grinned widely at your arrival, bouncing onto you- crushing you into a hug, which you returned by wrapping your arms around her small figure.

kiri smiled at you- she was getting sick of spider and lo'ak. "finally someone tolerable." spider and lo'ak glared at her. you chuckled at kiri as you let go of tuk, lo'ak turned to you with a raised eyebrow.

"aren't you supposed to be with your boyfriend?" he teased- spider laughing at his question.

you rolled your eyes at lo'ak, "aren't you supposed to not be in this area?" you shot back at him, raising your eyebrows in question.

"ooh," spider winced smirking, "dude, she got you on that one." lo'ak turned to spider and glared at him, the human boy put his hands up in surrender. "just saying."

you chuckled at spider, "neteyam had to go with your father."

lo'ak rolled his eyes at that, and mumbled. "of course he did." you felt bad for lo'ak, you knew he was just misunderstood- you and lo'ak got on well.

your face softened, then you remembered something. "look what i got," you dragged out the last word as you pulled some treats you had swiped from the lab when you went there with kiri- the humans had some of the best treats you had to admit.

everyone's eyes lit up at the sight of the treats in your hands, rushing towards you to get some. "i dibs the blue one!" tuk yelled as you handed her it.

kiri grinned at you, "how did you even get these?" grabbing one from your hand.

"norm always has them lying around." you shrugged laughing, biting into one.

spider's eyes went wide as he bursted out with laughter. "he's always complaining about his chocolates vanishing!- and you're the one that's been taking them?" you laughed in response.

lo'ak snatched 4 from your hands, much to your protest- shoving them all in his mouth at once, you and kiri both groaned in disgust at the boy. "what?" he asked the two of you confused, mouth filled with chocolate.

kiri looked up at the sky, it was starting to near eclipse. "we should head back, it's nearly eclipse." you nodded, looking to spider and lo'ak who groaned- obviously wanting to stay longer.

you, tuk, kiri, lo'ak and spider all began to start your journey back home when all of a sudden in the corner of your eye you spotted a large footprint in the mud. you jumped down off the log you were walking upon with the others- which all stopped, confused at why you had suddenly bent down near the mud.

you furrowed your eyebrows, tracing your fingers across the footprint, examining it. spider and lo'ak jumped down to you noticing the footprint as well. you could tell it was made by someone's boot- but that wasn't why it was odd, the odd part was it was the size of a na'vi's foot. no na'vi in the clan wears shoes, so it could only mean one thing. avatar's.

"that's way too big for a human." you thought out loud, both lo'ak and spider nodding in agreement with you as tuk and kiri joined the three of you down in the ground.

"avatars?" spider asked looking up at you.

you traced the footprint in the mud, looking around to see there was a clear trail of footprints leading off deeper into the forest to where the owner of them may be. "maybe..."

lo'ak and spider shared a look, then got up and started following where the tracks lead to, you and kiri looked at each other then back to the boys. "what are you guys doing?" kiri asked.

"shh- we're tracking." lo'ak answered as he and spider went deeper into the forest, you rolled your eyes as you, kiri and tuk all followed behind them.

the footprints stopped near the old shack, where jake had always told you and the rest to never go. It's where he, neytiri and quaritch had fought- bringing his death. you were about to continue to walk out from the bushes into the open until you were quickly yanked back by lo'ak making you fall back harshly.

you were about to scold him and ask him why he did that until he pointed to where there were 5 na'vi outside the old shack, dressed in full camo head to toe. your breath hitched- they were avatar's and had loaded guns in hand. getting up from the ground you crouched next to lo'ak, looking at the avatars.

"we are never suppose to go here." Kiri told lo'ak, growing anxious. "Dad is going to ground you-"

"shhhh- can you stop." he shushed her, glaring- before she could finish off her sentence.

you then joined in finishing off kiri’s sentence as she observed the avatar's. "Yeah- for life this time."

lo'ak rolled his eyes, turning to you now. "Shut up."

everyone stopped bickering as they saw one of the avatar's approach a machine suit- that belonged to quaritch. "we gotta call this in." lo'ak stated.

"no bro, we're going to get into trouble." spider shook his head in protest. lo'ak ignored him and started to tell his father about what was happening.

"i've got eyes on some guys, they look like avatars but they're in full camo and there's six of them." he spoke into the earpiece as you held tuk tightly, rubbing her arm. "uh- we're at the old shack."

"who's we?" jake asked worriedly through the other side of the radio glancing next to him at neytriti and neteyam who were listening to the conversation as well whilst on their ikrans.

"Uh- me, spider, kiri, y/n and.. tuk." neteyam’s eyes went wide as he heard lo’ak say your name through the radio, a pit forming in his stomach. not only were all his siblings and friend there- you were, you were in trouble.

"dad, i know a quick way!" neteyam called out, motioning for his mother and father to follow him

jake instructed for all of you to get out of there as quickly and quietly as you could, you held tuks hand as you and the others quietly moved away from the old shack. “you’re going to be in so much trouble!” kiri taunted lo’ak as you all walked away.

“kiri stop.” lo’ak glared at her with a serious tone.

you were about to join their conversation when, someone appeared coming from, the bushes. one of the avatars dressed in camo grabbed tuk by her braid pulling her down, “tuk!” you screamed, you were about to run to help her but another one grabbed you harshly by your long braid making you hiss in pain as they brought you to the ground along with the others.

everyone was fighting back against the avatars that were holding them down, “let go off me you bitch!” you screamed trying to break loose out of the women’s tight hold on you- which made her only grow more angry, as she pulled out her knife and held it up against your throat making you go still.

“Y/n!” kiri yelped in panic as she saw the knife being held up against you, earning her a painful tug by her captator.

the woman in camo bent down to eye level with you, looking you directly in the eye still holding the knife up to your neck. “move and i’ll slice that little neck of yours, got it?” you didn’t reply, only looked at her in the eyes as you stayed completely still- slightly shaking from fear, feeling the cold blade of the knife just grazing your throat. “yeah- that’s what i thought ya’ little bitch.”

there was a man who kept asking everyone where jakesully was, and he eventually found out that lo’ak, kiri and tuk were all his children and somehow knew who spider was. but he didn’t know who you were, he turned to you as you still had the knife pressed up against you.

he bent down on his knees becoming eye level with you, “and who might you be?” he asked as he harshly grabbed your hands, examining them before throwing them away. “you’re not one of his, are you?” you hissed at him in return.

neteyam was so worried he felt as if he could vomit- his heart was pounding the whole ride to where you and everyone was. the idea of anyone laying a hand on you or his siblings made him sick- especially the thought of you getting injured. he cursed himself on the way there, if he had just stayed with you instead of going he would’ve been able to protect you.

they landed their ikrans on a tree nearby, jake and neytiri all jumped off quickly- neteyam joining them until he was stopped by his father. “you stay here with the ikrans.” jake instructed.

“dad, i’m a warrior like you.” neteyam pleaded, he needed to know you were safe. “i’m supposed to fight.”

“i’m not going to say it again.” jake stated sternly, neytiri putting a hand on his shoulder in comfort.

“y/n’s in tr-“ neteyam started but was interrupted mid sentence by his father.

“enough, you are to stay with the ikrans.”

neteyam bit back his tongue, knowing it was best he did not argue back with his father. “yes, sir.”

neytiri looked at her eldest son, her face softening- she was one of the people that noticed how deep you and neteyam’s feelings truly went for each other. she saw how her sons face fall in fear when lo’ak spoke your name, saying you were with him. she knew how worried he was. with one last squeeze neytriti and jake left neteyam with their ikrans.

neteyam’s jaw clenched in anger, looking back to his parents disappearing figures. he was not going to sit around with the ikrans while you and his siblings were in danger.

it was then you heard neytiris call, eoching throughout the dense atmosphere-she was there. you glanced at lo'ak, nodding slightly at each other. you locked eyes with kiri, both sharing a silent look with one another. a man was shot down by an arrow, you grinned seeing neytiri's arrow was the one that striked the avatar down. more arrows were fired, everyone ducking to avoid the line of fire from neytiri's arrows.

you took this chance of shock and broke loose from the woman's hold- the other's doing so as well and all broke out in a run.

you ran straight with kiri and tuk right beside you through large leaves and branches, not knowing where you were going- but just kept going careful not to slip on the wet ground. you glanced behind you to see one of the avatars were directly behind you, following the three of you- they don't give up do they? taking a deep breath you turned to kiri who also noticed the demon hot on your trails. "keep running kiri, i'll lead it away from you guys!" kiri nodded, grabbing tuks hand quickly sprinting away as you stayed there.

you whistled loudly, gaining the avatar's attention and started running in the opposite direction from kiri and tuk. the avatar kept shooting bullets at you, merly missing. you winced as you felt a bullet graze your thigh- quickly ducking behind a log, trying to quiet your heavy breathing.

the raindrops were cold against your cheeks, but you could barely feel them due to the adrenaline coursing through your veins. "where are you lil' girl?" the avatar said, as you looked up slightly from where you were laid you saw they were right above you- you were praying to eywa that they wouldn't look down.

you closed your eyes shut tightly- waiting for the avatar to discover you at any moment you heard a groan followed by a loud thump. your eyes shot open to see the avatar's body limp on the ground with an arrow right through his chest- it was neteyam's arrow.

"y/n?" neteyam called out for you, you signed relieved at the sound of his voice and shot up- neteyam's shoulders visibly relaxing at the sight of you unharmed. "y/n." he breathed out, running over to you. "are you okay- are you hurt?" he looked over your body, searching for any injuries and stopped when he came across the bleeding graze on your left thigh.

you winced slightly as he ran his fingers over it. "i hate guns." he chuckled at your comment, pushing your damp hair out of your face gently.

"so do i," neteyam caressed your wet face, "let's get you patched up, okay?" you nodded as he wrapped an arm around your shoulders for support to help you walk, "easy there."

"it's just a graze, nete." you laughed, he was acting as if you had just gotten your leg broken.

the two of you began to walk- neteyam didn't let go of of you. "yeah, a graze that could get infected."

you felt your heart melt- he was always so worried about you, that was one of the many things you loved about neteyam. how much he cared for those he loved.

he brought you to where the others were, all of them sighing in relief at the sight of you.

neytiri ran up to you and neteyam, "oh, thank you great mother." she checked over you for any injuries, just as neteyam had done. she pulled you into a hug, which you returned immediately- she wrapped her long arms around you. when lo'ak asked where you were she felt her heart sink to her stomach- she truly didn't think she would be able to forgive herself if something had happened to you, your father would be left alone.

"i'm okay neytiri, do not worry."

she pulled out of the hug, hands still on your shoulders as she looked into your eyes- her eyes were glazed over with tears. "i will worry," she then turned to neteyam, "thank you son."

your eyes scanned over everyone- noticing a missing person, "where is spider?" you looked at kiri who's eyes were filled with tears, everyone's silence being an answer in itself for you. "no.."

you groaned as neteyam rubbed a paste over your graze to treat it. he had not said a word to anyone since you all had gotten back from the attack in the forest.

the moment of the avatar hovering over you, about to attack you was replaying over and over in his head. the look of fear you held on your face, bracing for anything to happen- neteyam wasn't often angry, he was a calm individual it took a lot to push him off the edge. but the rage he felt coursing through his veins as he drew the arrow, targeted right at the dream walker who was about to harm you was unmatched to any anger he had felt.

"neteyam," you put a hand on his shoulder, "what is wrong?" he sighed- you could read him like an open book at times.

"nothing is wrong." he replied, you raised your eyebrows at him, giving him a 'don't lie' look. he sighed again, giving in. "i don't know what i would do if something happened to you out there y/n." his ears flattened as he looked you in the eye.

your face softened, putting a hand on his cheek. "you will never know because nothing happened to me today," he leaned into your touch. "you saved me, nete. thank you so much."

he smiled softly, "you do not have to thank me for that, i will always protect you." the two of you stared into one another's eyes, you felt yourself lean in to neteyam slowly as if you were getting pulled by an invisible string to him- he too leaning in to you.

your heart was beating fast as your faces inched closer to one another, waiting for them to meet. your eyes fluttered shut gently.

"y/n! neteyam!"

your eyes opened quickly, you and neteyam moving away from one another in a quick motion at the sound of lo'ak's voice and the door slamming open. both of your faces flushed- realising what was about to happen if you were not interrupted.

neteyam had never wanted to choke lo'ak more in his life than now.

"uhh," lo'ak stood at the door frame, looking in between you and neteyam awkwardly. "did i interrupt something?.."

"no!" you and neteyam shouted in unison at lo'ak, making the situation even more awkward.

neteyam tried to gather himself and act normal, "what is it?"

"oh, right- mum and dad are arguing, they want to move from the clan." lo'ak's voice turned serious. "your dad is also with them, y/n."

the awkward atmosphere vanished at his words, you and neteyam turned to look at one another- eyes wide as you both shot up and ran out with lo'ak to the tuk and kiri who were quietly peeping through a small opening to listen in on their parents conversation.

kiri put a finger over her mouth, motioning for you all to be quiet.

you bent down slowly- careful not to make them aware of you and the sully childrens presence, trying to listen in.

"i cannot lose my daughter, i have already lost my mate." your father said, kiri put a comforting hand on your shoulder at mention of your mothers death- which you appreciated greatly.

"i understand that," jake sighed, "but she was with our kids too, they will hunt her now too."

"my jake- you cannot ask that of us, this is our home!"

"if it keeps my daughter safe..." your father paused, as if he couldn't bring the words to escape his mouth. "i will do whatever it takes- even if it means letting her go with you."

your heart dropped down to your stomach, letting you go? what did that all mean. how could you leave behind your home?- you could not do that, how were you to leave everything you knew? you knew all the others were thinking the same thing by the confused expressions on their faces- as if they didn't think they had heard their parents right.

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[sashi-ya]

𝑻𝑶 𝑺𝑻𝑬𝑨𝑳 𝑨 𝑯𝑬𝑨𝑹𝑻. Trafalgar Law x F! Reader

🌨 a/n: so I recently been to Austria, a country I often visit since it's literally like a dream. (plus, my mom knew she was pregnant with me there, so I was used to come back to Innsbruck as much as I could with her). But in any case I got inspired there to write this little fic, that might -or not- be a multi chapter one if you all like it. The place exists and the scam part, happened to me -kinda, the airbnb existed, but not as it was listed :P- but in any case, please enjoy and don't forget to leave some feedback if you want more~ ❄ tw: a very sfw story, that might evolve into something else if you want me to keep writing about their trip 😏 ☃ wc: 2.6k

Hijacking for the first time, what could go wrong? Maybe everything, maybe nothing.

A two-month long trip all around Europe has found you on a little village of Austria. Your boots are cold, but luckily they are snow proof ones. Your skin all bumpy, your cheeks irritated. It’s been snowing all night, and despite the sun rising for now, some clouds in the sky menace with more white blessing to fall upon your shoulders very soon.

Those little mountain streets around the Alps are wonderful, they surround mountains going up and down and in a spiral way. But those are wonderful, as long as you can drive a car with heating. And you don’t have one right now.

The crunchy sound of the snow beneath your boots mix with the melody of a glacial river running in between the mountain and the road. It is certainly beautiful, the little rocks and stones being bathed by such pure and cold water, the rests of dry leaves and some moss growing on an everlasting shadow casted by tall, enormous peaks.  Everything is worth taking a picture, but you should prioritize your battery life this time around. The GPS is sometimes wonky, being that high can affect the service.

Many cars have passed by, but none of them have stopped. Little lorries carrying logs pass, cars completely drenched in dirty snow and that mix of salt that roads have during winters.

However, just when your hopes for finding someone to at least give you a ride to the next village were about to run out, the yellow shine of an old VW ban flashes before your eyes.

There, behind a curve -a very dangerous one if you ever went to the mountains- something smells like smoke and a tall man of white furry hat swears up to the skies.

You walk towards him, carefully. Who knows what is happening? Who knows who that man is capable of? There is one thing you are sure, however, and it is that this man is absolutely mad at his old van.

When peaking behind a dark wooden tree that’s now covered in spots of white snow, you discover the annoyed man is a young -handsome- one.

His van, a little rusty but still cute, seems to be having problems to keep going and the smoke coming from it shows it very well.

“Sir? Sir! Your van is catching fire!” you announce, realizing the smoke is indeed a very serious issue.

The guy of chocolate skin and tattooed hands turns around to look immediately at you and then to the back of the van. Those 70’s vehicles had actually their engines right in the back instead of the front.

And Indeed, you were right. Apparently the climb had been too tough for the poor old VW and its engine couldn’t take it any longer.

He quickly opens the back door, maybe searching for a fire extinguisher while you grab fistfuls of snow in an attempt to put down the incipient flames. Quickly enough, and with not many damages to count, the fire stops, and the only thing left is a big black spot on the back of the caravan.

“Thank you” he says, as dry as hopefully your socks. “No problem. What happened? Did the engine over heat?” you ask, curious despite his “I don’t want friends” face. “Yes; these hills are no joke. This never happened to my Polar, but there is always a first time…” he sighs, assessing the damage with a sad expression.

Apparently his van has a name; “Polar”. That’s very cute, and his eyes too. A golden shine in them looks even beautiful with the pristine white around. His tattoos do as well. You wonder about his name, and what is he doing on the road, but you are not sure if it’s proper to ask. However, he asks first.

“What are you doing here? do you have a car?” he mumbles, his voice is as attractive as he is. His eyes scan the place, but nothing catches his attention.

“No, I am actually hijacking. No one stopped so I started walking before the sun starts going down. I definitely got scammed; the Airbnb I was supposed to stay in didn’t, in fact, exist.

He grunts, almost silently. Apparently he is not happy with what happened to you but that’s it.

“Well, that’s so unsafe. I am sorry I can’t give you a ride right now. Apparently none of us have been blessed with good luck today” he says, walking around his vehicle with long legs covered in spotted jeans.

You nod. Your tongue is aching to ask about him, but you clearly catch the hint… he doesn’t want you there.

“Yep. Well, I wish you luck! I must keep going” “Same to you, be careful”

He doesn’t even look at you, something that makes you -somehow- very sad. In any case, you start walking away. There is no point in staying there… even if you have great mechanical skills that could help.

And as you do, you also have a very, very loud consciousness voice screaming at you on how could you leave him with no solution if you know it…

“Sir, you should check your water level…”  you shout, a few meters away from him. The sound of your voice echoes in the huge natural immensity of the Alps and his golden eyes finally fall upon you.

He stops moving for some seconds, lost in you. You, as well, wait for him to say something else. Something like “stay with me” or “don’t go”. A total stranger you want to hang up with. A total unknown woman he wants to protect.

“You know how to fix this?” “I do…”

Or so that was what you thought.  

No more than a couple of minutes took you to help him out. VW vans are noble machines; they are durable and easy to fix despite their particular design. And soon, as a part of your payment, the man that you learned is called Law and you drove away through intricate roads and huge snowflakes.

“Where are you going, (Name)-ya?” he asks, handing you an old cover from an old comic, Germa 66.

“I was supposed to stay for a couple of days in Bad Goisern, and then I thought of visiting Salzburg. I am on a long trip through Europe. What about you?”  you ask, cuddling with the blanket. A certain blessing for your freezing hands.

He nods, checking the breaks before going down the hill.

“I am too. I just graduated medical school and I thought of taking a little vacation before my residency starts. I’m going to be a surgeon. A cardiac surgeon” he tells, full of dreams he fails to cover up behind a tough guy expression.

You celebrate his success, and the next couple of hours become a ping pong of questions and answers. A smile on your face that leaves your cheeks hurting accompanies you until the sun hides and the little lights on the mountains start to scatter.

You didn’t want to go down in the first village, nor the second, nor the third. Law, didn’t want you to go down his van either. You named Salzburg, and he promised you to take you there.

But the night found both of you, and apparently your mechanical skills weren’t as good as you thought the would… Polar decided to stop, in the middle of nowhere during a dark, very dark winter night.

You close your eyes as the sound of rusty gears fail and Law’s annoyance grows stronger than ever. When Polar finally loses all of the power, Law manages to agonizingly park on the side of the road and a huge sighs escapes his lips.

You peak through your left eye; his DEATH tattooed fingers squeeze the wheel, and you know he will snap at any moment. But he doesn’t…

“I’m sorry. I thought- I-“ you try to give a plausible apologize, even though you had nothing to do with it.

“No. It is not your fault… it is mine- As we didn’t stop, I have completely forgotten to fuel Polar up” Law says, absolutely mortified for such stupid mistake. Apparently you were enough distraction to keep him from the basics of road tripping.

You breath alleviated and try to stop your upcoming laughter. Your grimacing did nothing to hide it, and a big burst of laughter took over the van and everything around.

Law looks at you pissed, but a soft smirk garnishes his lips. You can’t stop, perhaps it isn’t that funny… but you feel so happy right now. And you have no idea why, since you are literally stranded in a very dark wood with temperatures below 0C and snow pooling on top of that van.

“Welp, it’s ok. We should wait until tomorrow, then” you say, knowing the risks. “You- you prefer spending the night in here? aren’t you afraid of dying?” he asks, surprised.

“I am, in fact, scared of dying. That’s why I know very well I can’t walk during a snowstorm in the middle of the night in the Alps. Plus, you are too sweet to be considered a threat” you joke, searching for some chocolate inside your backpack.

Law narrows his eyes, deepening his frown. Apparently being called “sweet” and “not a threat” is not something he enjoys.

“I could cut you open and took all of your organs out during the night” he says, serious as hell. “Go for it. Don’t forget to steal my heart, doctor” you laugh, taking your jacket off.

Law is flabbergasted; he has never confronted someone like you before… but he is beginning to like it now.

A bar of chocolate that you had kept in your backpack for too long lays too close to his nose. You shake it, offering its sweetness to him.

He takes it but doesn’t eat it. Instead, his hand gets pressed against the window behind you. Law has pinned you against the door of your side. He is not a very muscular man, but he is indeed very tall and lean… if he wanted, he could do anything to you.

Your eyes widen, big as the moon. You swallow, thinking maybe walking through the forest might be a safer option.

“L-Law… I- didn’t mean to-“ you tremble, asking yourself where did you put the Victorinox blade you bought in Switzerland… it should be enough to defend yourself, right?

You notice his chest is also tattooed as his clothes open just a little. His arms, are too. His scent, despite the danger, smells deliciously tempting…

“Don’t trust strangers that easily, (Name)-ya” he whispers, a few centimetres from your lips. Letting you go after and biting the chocolate bar as if nothing has just happened.

You remain there, frozen up with your eyes widen and your lips softly trembling. He is, in fact, very right. Law is indeed a stranger, after all.

When oxygen finally begins to reach your lungs and brain again, you move and blink the dry eyes away. Silently you sit back, properly. You aren’t able to say anything, somehow you have run out of words.

You squeeze the blanket he gave you, covering you as much as you could, making yourself as tiny as possible on that old leather seat.

“Are you ok?” he asks, so nonchalantly.

“Ye-yes, I’m… ok” you mumble back, almost sticking yourself to the passenger door. “Is it ok if I go to sleep? I’m tired”

Law nods, confused. Maybe he was just joking around, but it did scare you big time. He goes down the van and opens the back doors. You look at him disappearing in the darkness until a very little glimpse of silver light coming from the moon filters through the doors.

But, soon after, fairy lights illuminate the back allowing you to discover a very cozy space behind the front seats.

“I am glad I installed this independently from the fuel tank. I have a little power generator for the back. It’s not a hotel bed, but it does the job” he says, showing you a precarious mattress covering the entire floor of the vehicle.

You smile softly, it looks cozy and pretty. The walls are full of random posters and maps, and there is even an old picture of a younger Law with three more guys wearing fancy hats with something written in the snow. You take a closer look at it, to discover it says, “Pirates of Heart” and you giggle. What a peculiar gang name.

“Law, this is really cute. You even have a lot of blankets and cushions!” you chime, easing a little bit.

“My best friend Bepo decorated it for me, I only helped him with the lights” he says, a little embarrassed.

You jump right back, leaving your backpack in the front seat and forgetting everything for the moment. What a reckless lover girl.

“I am going to sleep in the front seat, don’t worry. Use as many blankets as you need” he informs you, closing the back doors and leaving you there. You most probably were to say “no, stay here” but you simply couldn’t.

After all, this tattooed doctor is a gentleman. Right?

You let yourself rest for a bit on that improvised bed, with your sight blurring while looking at the fairy lights. The scent of the blankets and pillows is the same as him, something you secretly enjoy without even knowing. You catch a glimpse of the reflection of him sitting in the front through the back windows, at how he takes his hat off revealing a dark shade of onyx spiky hair.

For the next half an hour, or maybe less, you both become silent. The only sounds are the huge slaps of snow falling from the sky against the van and the subtle whistle of the wind filtering through the doors.

It is cold, but it’s probably colder in the front as Law is only using his Germa 66 blanket to cover up…

“Law? Are you awake?” you ask, shyly.

“Mh? Yes... why?” he asks back, with not much emotion but a soft tremble on his voice. He is probably cold, very cold.

“I feel bad for you; you must be freezing. There is plenty of room back here, you could sleep here. It’s ok with me” you say, taking advantage of not being in front of him.

Law takes a few minutes to move, but he ultimately does. He hops to where you are and sits there crossing his long legs. He is not wearing his black leather boots, so you can see Sora’s socks.

“Cool socks” you say, sitting right in front of him watching his cheeks go blushed. “Here, cover up. You are freezing, doc”

Both of you cover up with heavy blankets and fall into the mattress at the same time, facing each other.

Maybe, it is too strong to deny it. The attraction is natural, and you both can’t stop it… Exactly like the wind and cold reaching your skins.

“I am still cold” you mumble.

“I read in one of my books that the best way to keep the warmth of our bodies is to share it… skin to skin” he whispers, unable to take his eyes away from your lips.

“Is that so?” you breathe, coming closer to his embrace, allowing his arms to surround your frame and your hips to join with the other’s.

His forehead slowly touches yours, the bridge of your noses do as well. Your fingers, playfully but slowly, crawl to the crook of his neck. While his, squeeze your waist with delicate dominance. A leg that snake into the other’s, crossing, tangling…

Lips coming closer, so close. Breaths warming up, going faster and bumpy. Hearts that indeed had been stolen, the first kiss of two strangers, meeting for the very first time like two snowflakes join while falling from an endless sky

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤWill they continue their journey together? 🦢

[cypherdecypher]

Animal of the Day!

Green Salamander (Aneides aeneus)

(Photo by Matthew L. Niemiller)

Conservation Status- Near Threatened 

Habitat- Appalachian Mountains

Size (Weight/Length)- 12 cm

Diet- Insects

Cool Facts- Like many species of salamander, the green salamander is extremely habitat-specific. They need an undergrowth covered in thick moss to keep their skin moist and even then they rarely leave their rocky crevice homes. Every so often, the green salamander will take a trip up a tree to find a hollow or crack to hang out in. The less sunlight, the better. They are the only salamanders in North America to have green pigment in their skin. A prehensile tail aids the tiny dudes in climbing over a mega sized world, even fallen logs pose a monumental effort. Male green salamanders are seen as one of the most aggressive salamanders. They are highly territorial towards other males, taking toes and even tails from their opponent.

Rating- 13/10 (Hibernate in the winter and return with the first rain of spring.)