#nails was close but then 'a seed is planted' dropped and they became a part of the troubling second hand nikola info club

[arolesbianism]

Sigh. Nikola why must you be one of the more interesting oni characters. I don't wanna think abt you with your stupid spiky blond hair and your unethical science that mostly just serves to make Jackie more shitty by proxy. But I do. Because you're kind of orbo blorbo. Fuck you Nikola I hope you explode again

[danawinrow]

Artist's Date: Week 6

I highlighted the part where the author suggested having two artist's dates, and when I decided that I wanted to collect items that would attract and represent abundance, I decided to make the altar I have wanted to put together for a long time. And I knew it was going to take more than one date, probably more than two even. Ultimately, it became an ongoing process that I worked on when I found something to add or when I wanted to get into a meditative state and consider the items I was including and the reasons for my choices. This is going to be long and nostalgic and metaphysical and witchy! And long!

This is a wide shot of the closet altar:

Details:

I put a gallon jar of water in the yard on the full and new moons to make moon water. I use it for drinking, watering plants, and in spell jars. This is an apothecary jar with Gemini full moon water next to a pretend Polaroid of the moon. In front is a satin sachet that I keep cards and photos in. My ivory ring on a string is my favorite pendulum.

This shows the inside of the sachet:

Here's a view of many objects:

The picture frame contains my mother's family. The center photo is my grandfather David, who died when my mother was in college. She says he would have gotten a kick out of me and she gets sad when she thinks of how he never got to meet me and my sister. I talk to him sometimes and I use a pendulum to ask him yes/no questions. There's a smaller photo on the right of my Grandma Ethel holding my infant mother. I miss my grandmother very much and I talk to her and think of how she helped shape my childhood. In the left corner is a tarot card - the Three of Cups, which represents a happy and successful union. It's there because my mom's family was 3 and my family here is 3 (including Baby of course!).

As part of the week's exercises, I collected five rocks but only four flowers because of a lack of biodiversity in the region. Nonetheless, I found some yarrow (white), lupine (purple in the back), and unidentified purple and yellow wildflowers. I enjoyed collecting these and felt gratitude for the abundance of nature.

Some shards of green aventurine represent abundance. The coin is foreign and has an atom symbol on it.

The Little Bo Peep figurine is from a box of my grandmother's tea; she drank a lot of tea and my sister and I had multiples of every figurine.

I have a jar of LEGO minifig pieces that I dumped out and played with, looking for the chest of drawers with the gold LEGO coins (!) and the tiny flowers (!) and originally a pink mug, but after I put everything away., I felt something on the carpet and it was a clear goblet that I immediately swapped out and filled with moon water (drop by drop, using my pinkie and great focus). So I entertained my inner child in the middle of an altar session and it was fun!

Here is a close-up of the LEGO chest and a coin:

And here is the jar of LEGO and my gold-painted nail:

More items:

The shells are from South Florida and represent water.

The peacock feather represents air. The Japanese incense, matches, and vintage flower candle represent fire. The sunflower seeds and the sunflower postcard from a grounding friend represent earth. The tiny glass jar in front of the shells contains the tooth that fell out and put me on my denture adventure; it is a memento mori and as a reminder of mortality, it represents spirit.

This is my witchy oasis and I am looking forward to adding to it and moving items around based on my moods, planetary and lunar events, seasonal changes, and other influences. When I sit in there, it's very hard for me to leave!

[vennilavee]

lighthouse

pairing: levi x reader, ft baby kaiya (moon/stars universe) summary: after you and levi decide to try for another baby, things become a little complicated. warnings: oc struggles with becoming pregnant, general pregnancy themes, oc and levi are both sad, angsty stuff (but i kept it pretty vague i think), 18+ (smut in the form of cockwarming) a/n: this is something way new, i hope you guys like it! also i kinda wrote this thinking about moon/stars couple being perp couple but grown lmao but kept that pretty vague too

From the moment that you and Levi had confessed to each other that you wanted to have another baby and give Kaiya a sibling, it had quickly turned into you and Levi having sex wherever and whenever you could. Before Kaiya woke up, after Kaiya went to bed, you coming home for lunch (or really, for an afternoon delight), in the shower, in his office… anywhere you could. 

It had been fun and thrilling for a while- the excitement of it all had you on your toes. And after all, you couldn’t get enough of your man and he couldn’t get enough of you.

His favorite place to be was between your legs.

But then weeks started going by. Then months. And you kept getting your period every month, on schedule. Each month felt like a blow to the gut, but you still were optimistic. It happened with Kaiya right, as a happy accident? It’ll surely happen, now that you and Levi were actively planning for this. 

And then it doesn’t. Your period kept coming, and every month, pieces of you began to chip away. Were you being dramatic? It takes time for people to become pregnant, right? Maybe you should just wait it out. 

But then everything starts to feel so… unlike what it felt like before. You can feel yourself pulling away from him and withdrawing. You can feel him withdrawing, too.

Every time his cum shoots into you, you feel empty.

The seeds of doubt begin to plant in your mind once six months go by. Then seven, then nine months… then it’s almost a year since you and Levi have started actively trying.

Finally, you can’t. You can’t take it anymore. It feels like too much, even when he’s inside you, you can’t look him in the eye. Because every time Levi meets your eyes, you can’t help but think of the future. A future that you seem to be unable to bring to fruition-

“Stop, stop, Levi,” You plead and he immediately pulls out of you. Concern is written all over your face, his hands immediately cupping your cheek.

“Did I hurt you?” Levi asks. You only shake your head and pull your clothes on hastily. You don’t look him in the eye as you scramble out of bed, leaving him confused.

“I can’t,” You shake your head, “Gonna sleep in Kaiya’s bed tonight. I just… I can’t.”

And that’s how it remains for a few nights. Levi gives you space, which you’re grateful for. He has an inkling of what’s going on, but doesn’t want to push you.

Because he feels lost, too. He had seen your sad eyes week to week, month to month. Until they became all he saw. 

Should it be taking this long to become pregnant? He had searched on the Internet, and everything was so subjective. Dependent on the people. Maybe it’s him, he wonders.

But the last fertility specialist they had seen had said that it wasn’t them. Maybe it was stress. Maybe it was everything.

But maybe a break would be good. It was never meant to hurt like this, after all. It was never meant to leave an aching hole in his heart. It was never meant to put tears in your eyes.

It takes time for you both to find each other again, and perhaps that is the beauty of love. You both somehow gravitate towards each other, even if you’re not actively seeking each other out.

Even Kaiya had noticed the tension between you and Levi. Kids are so smart, picking up on everything and everything. That’s your baby. The thought of her big eyes asking Levi if he was okay sends your heart into a frenzy.

A crack of thunder and the comforting hum of the rain pulls you out of your already fitful sleep. You know Levi is awake, from the way he shifts in bed and presses himself to your side further. And also because he’s such a light sleeper.

His nose brushes against the back of your neck lightly, a hand ghosting over your hips then your thigh. It’s hesitant. Not like what you’re used to.

Levi is plastered to your side but you still feel a world of hurt and pain in between you both. Before you can help it, your throat is dry with a lump that you can’t swallow down and your eyes fill with tears that you can’t blink away.

You want to turn and look at him, you want to hold him. Because you know he’s hurting too, just like you. But you can’t bring yourself to. Something that feels like shame curls in your belly, but there is nothing to be shameful for. You can already hear Levi’s voice in your ear, gently scolding you for your thoughts.

“Levi,” You mumble, close to a sob.

“‘M here, angel,” Levi says, tightening his hold around you. His lips brush against the back of your neck. And you can’t take it, you can’t take the distance between you both.

Another rumble of thunder has you jump in his arms, and finally you turn to face him. His steel eyes are as steady as ever, always holding the balance of your universe in his irises.

You’ve been so quiet, so contemplative the last few weeks. Levi has tried to break through this wall, so you both can be sad together. But you seemed to be insistent on carrying this all on your own, when it wasn’t only yours to carry. He knows the pain is different for you than it is for him. But don’t you know that you don’t have to carry it alone? Don’t you know that you can lean on him?

And you know it, too. You know you’ve been pushing him away and hurting him. But you can’t help it, not when you feel like you’ve been in pieces. Not when you feel so tired and defeated.

The rain is soothing and paired with his steady heartbeat, you feel clouds beginning to part slightly in your mind. Maybe a ray of sunshine that breaks through fleetingly. 

The palms of Levi’s warm hands are loose over your back as he comforts you, his fingers lightly ghosting over the exposed skin of your hips and your belly. You both lay there in silence, but even this silence feels like more of a comfort than the air that surrounded you both for the last few weeks.

It makes you choke. You let out another sob. But he doesn’t push you to talk. You’ll talk when you’re ready. And Levi thinks you’re almost there.

You snake a hand around his neck, scratching your nails through his undercut absently. The desire to feel close to him overwhelms you and you tighten your arms around him. Your lips hover over his pulse, a steady thrum. He feels your lips press gently against his throat.

“Tell me,” Levi begs softly, “Don’t leave me behind.”

You don’t feel like running anymore.

“We’ve been trying for months,” You say bluntly, “What if it’s not meant to be? I know the docs said that we’re both fine… But what if it’s me? What then?”

What if I can’t give you what we both want? What if- what if- what if? Does it make me less of a person? 

You know it doesn’t. But seeds of the unknown have planted themselves in your blood, and you can’t shake it away as hard as you try.

Levi already knows where your thoughts are going. He already knows your unspoken words, because they’re the same thoughts he’s been having lately, too.

But he won’t let you both succumb to it.

“And sometimes...I feel like,” You stammer, “I feel so far from you. And I don’t like it, but I know I did this. I pushed you away-”

You start to cry, tears tracking down your cheeks and Levi pulls you into his chest. Your tears soak his shirt, but it doesn’t matter. All that matters is that you finally get it out. Levi’s own throat becomes dry at the sound of your cries but all he can do is hold you.

“We both lost ourselves ,” You say hoarsely, “Sex became a chore, an end goal. Rather than it being about... Maybe it’s a psychological thing, I don’t know…”

And it’s true, Levi thinks. For the last few months, you’ve both been meticulous about when to have sex- it felt too clinical, without any of the magic from before. Because you both were thinking so hard about having a baby, that you both let the magic disappear. It wasn’t like either of you, but it had happened.

And now you’re both hurting.

Levi cradles your cheek with his hand. “So let’s stop trying with having an end goal in mind,” He says softly, “Just be with me and I’ll be with you. We lost ourselves… and now neither of us are okay. If it happens, it’ll happen.

“And we don’t love each other and ourselves any less if it doesn’t happen, alright?”

More tears spill over and you murmur a soft apology into his lips. Levi always knows what to say, what you both need. He shakes his head firmly, pressing chaste kisses to your forehead, your cheeks, your chin.

“I love you,” You mumble into his mouth, tears pricking your eyes again. It’s a soft confession, a confession that he already holds close to his heart. But still never fails to make him warm from the inside. 

“I love you,” You whisper again as his hands roam. He just wants to be close to you, to feel you and fall in love with you all over again. 

Levi pulls your shirt off easily and pushes you on your back, bracketing your head with his forearms. He hovers above you, molten silver eyes peering right through you. It’s a look on his face that you’ve missed. You tug at his shirt impatiently, too, wanting to feel his skin against yours. 

He drops his weight on top of you- he knows how comforting this feels for you. To feel him all around you. Nothing will ever compare to that for you. Levi cradles your face in his rough hands, determination burning his irises.

You hold his wrist as he silently watches you. Another flash of lightning illuminates the pretty planes of your face, sadness clear in your eyes and pain tight in the lines of your mouth.

“I love you,” Levi murmurs thickly, “Do you understand? I love you. Always.” A fresh wave of tears blooms in your eyes at the sincerity dripping from his voice. Levi has always given you the moon, and this time is no different. “What do you need, baby?” Levi rasps.

He always puts you in front of his needs, always putting everyone else above himself. Always calming you down, always holding steady for you. Your lighthouse in the storm.

“What do you need,” You ask breathily, “What do you need, baby?”

“You,” Levi says simply, “Just you.”

“You have me,” You reply, fingers trailing his toned chest, “You always have me. We always come back to each other.”

“Just be here with me,” Levi breathes, “Nothing else but us, angel.”

You nod and Levi presses his lips to the corner of your mouth, hands cupping your face tenderly, and slips his tongue into your mouth. He kisses you like he’s trying to take the pain away and bury it deep within himself. So you’ll never have to feel it- but you kiss him back with just as much fervor.

He’ll never carry his pain alone, and you won’t either.

“Can I touch you?” Levi asks, nudging your cheek with his nose.

“Yes,” You exhale. 

Levi presses wet kisses to your neck, to your chest, your clavicle, your belly, your hips. He takes his time mapping your body with his light hands and with his lips. Each touch of his ignites your skin, slowly piecing you back together. While you know that him and him alone is not enough to make you feel okay, it’s a nice start. He’s touching you, he’s kissing you as if you’re made of diamonds- precious but tough. 

His hands are burning over your hips, burning in the best way. Tendrils of desire flash in your belly, seemingly in time with the flashes of lightning surrounding you both. The 2:30 AM glow of the storm makes the shadows on Levi’s face softer, unspoken adoration clear in the pout of his lips.

You just want him. You just want to be close to him. You scratch at his lower abs teasingly, one of his favorite weak spots. He groans into your thighs as he finds his way home to your center.

You memorize the feeling of him in between your legs, of your hands sliding up and down his back, of your fingers tugging at his dark hair. You can feel his cock press against your inner thigh when he lifts himself up to kiss you.

“Baby,” You say gently, “Want you inside, baby.”

Levi is about to protest, swiping a hand in between your legs to see how wet you are. You’re usually much wetter when he slides inside you, but you only look at Levi in that disarming way. 

“Just wanna be close with you, baby,” You confess. And Levi won’t deny you, but he wants you to be a little wetter for him. So he kisses you, grinds into you, circles your clit until you’re sighing into the empty air with only the rain as the backdrop to your voice. 

“Slow, angel. Just you ‘n me,” Levi whispers into your skin, promises of love pressed into your thighs. 

“Levi,” You whine quietly, “Please…”

He won’t keep you waiting. “On your side,” Levi instructs and you comply immediately. Levi pulls your leg back a little when you turn to face away from him. He wraps his arms around you tightly, snaking a hand down to your pussy and rubbing your clit. You buck your hips into his cock impatiently and he exhales in amusement.

Levi parts your thighs and slides into your wet heat easily, both of you sighing at the same time. He doesn’t move, only feeling the warmth of your pussy around him and only listening for your quiet hums of pleasure. Levi buries his head in your neck, your quickened pulse echoing in his ears.

He only kisses your neck, his heated lips the only constant you’ll ever need. He tastes your bleeding heart through your pulse, the faint thrum leading him to tighten his hold around you. 

You can feel his love, feel it rushing in your own veins and setting you abuzz. Emotions overwhelm you, spilling over in your eyes and onto your cheeks.

“I’m sorry,” You sob, “You needed me and I-I wasn’t...I wasn’t there. I wasn’t here.”

“Stop that,” Levi murmurs gently, fingers pressing very lightly at your throat, “We’re here now.”

“Are we okay?”

A crack of thunder.

“Yes,” Levi says honestly, “Don’t have to hide from me. We don’t even have to cum. Just wanna feel you, angel. Wanna remind you… we’re here.”

So you stay in his arms as he throbs inside of you. It’s soothing to feel him like this. To feel him all around you and be completely surrounded by his love. It makes you stronger, makes you want to be the best version of yourself. That’s what Levi has always been for you.

The rain still hasn’t let up. Levi tilts your jaw towards him, pulling you in for a sweet, slow kiss. You feel like you’re moving through golden honey with every gentle caress and every soft kiss. 

You thread your fingers through his and squeeze. “I love you,” You breathe again.

“I know, angel. I love you,” Levi says, biting back a groan when you clench around him.

For a minute, everything feels like it’ll be okay. And maybe it will. But you know with Levi by your side, everything will be okay eventually.

Kaiya is nearly five years old, about to start kindergarten, when Levi picks up on the signs. You’re beginning to crave some of the same things you did when you were pregnant with Kaiya, and you’ve been losing your temper at the smallest things lately (also like when you were pregnant with Kaiya). You’ve also been emotional, more emotional than usual, over the most mundane things. Levi gets you your socks without you asking? You tear up. Levi puts Kaiya’s hair in space buns after her interest had been piqued by Star Wars? You bawl.

He wonders if you’re even suspicious. 

Levi doesn’t want to jump the gun just yet- it had taken so long to get to this level of comfort. To not be actively trying for another baby, and to just allow for things to take their own course. If it happens, then it happens. That’s what he had said to you.

He thinks it’s happening. 

By the end of the week, he doesn’t know how you don’t see it. 

“When was the last time you had your period,” Levi asks bluntly. You’re currently washing your face after putting Kaiya to bed. She’d gone down quickly, tired out from a playdate with some of her friends.

“Huh?”

“Your period. You’re late, aren’t you?” Levi asks easily, crossing his arms and standing against the doorframe.

Levi watches as realization, acceptance and anxiety all flit across your face. “I...I’m-uh,” You stammer, “I’m a few days late...”

“I thought so,” Levi says. Silence fills the air, your eyes widening and your lips parting in surprise. He watches you process your thoughts and feelings, before fear and a drop of excitement and hope settle in your eyes.

“That’s...something,” You mumble, “Will you make the appointment with me?”

“Of course, angel.”

It’s no surprise to Levi when the obstetrician tells you both that you’re a few weeks along. It’s no surprise to him that you immediately burst into tears and sob into his shoulder either.

And if his eyes are a little misty, then that’s nobody’s business.

When the doctor gives you a warm smile and a moment to yourselves, you immediately hold Levi’s hands.

“I’m scared,” You admit, “We did it, but I’m scared.”

Levi pulls you into his chest, rubbing your back soothingly. “We’ll figure it out. We’ll be okay.”

“How do you know that? Anything could happen-”

“We take it day by day,” Levi hushes you, “Day by day, angel. With each other and with Kaiya.”

tags: @simpingmaize​ @captainchrisstan​ @alrightberries​ @bbygrgu​

[3ternalslumber]

4 Times the Sides had Feelings for Roman and 0 Times He had Feelings for Anyone

:)

TW: Roman centric hurt/no comfort, one (1) mention of non-harmful scratching from Virgil

Masterpost

~

It wasn’t his fault! Okay, so part of it was his fault. He didn’t start it though! After all, no one could force themselves to fall in love. Trust him, he tried.

Patton should’ve been the easiest to fall in love with; he’s sweet, he’s funny, and they got along with nearly no bumps in the road. He made himself pay attention to his laugh, the way his eyes crinkled with amusement when the others announced their disdain for his dad jokes. He even took Patton’s hand, kissed it, and swung their arms gently between them. Patton had smiled, eyes almost twinkling, and his body shifted closer. Roman felt something. A warmth flared in his chest, a smile forcing itself onto his face whenever he thought of the puffball. But his stomach didn’t fill up with butterflies and his face didn’t get hot. And when Patton confessed his feelings, Roman’s smile wavered; a boulder weighing down in his stomach. Roman rubbed the back of Patton’s hand with his thumb.

“I’m sorry,” he frowned. “I’m sorry, Patton.”

And he was. Nausea climbed up his throat, choking him with it’s invisible vines.

Patton’s eyes dropped. “Oh. Okay..” He gently took back his hand. “It’s okay, I get it. We’re still friends, though, right?”

He was nodding before Patton had finished the question. “Of course, padre! I just.. unfortunately, I…” I want to love you. I want to love you romantically. I’m sorry I can’t be that for you.

Swaying slightly, Patton took a few steps back. “I’ve got work in a few hours, I should.. I better go,” he smiled almost as bright as before. Roman would’ve believed it if not for the shine of his eyes.

“Patton, I—“ but, like dandelion seeds blowing in the wind, he was gone.

Next was, surprisingly enough, Virgil. He and Virgil hadn’t gotten along at first, despite Virgil being a fashion major in college. Their aesthetics — and personalities — had clashed, but after time and much persistence from Patton, they began to tolerate each other and became very close friends. They still had plenty of banter. Banter is one thing that Roman never had with Patton, and everyone knows that teasing banter is a Must™. So he doubled the flirty comments and stood closely to the emo, giving him the gayest of eyes. Virgil made him feel something that Patton hadn’t; Virgil made him feel something akin to adrenaline, as if he were trekking through the woods at 3am or hanging out in an empty parking lot with his friends. His stomach did fill with something this time, but he wouldn’t describe it as “butterflies”. It was more of a demand to hold him, the feeling amplified by a thousand after their friend group discovered that Virgil was rather clingy. Maybe this was it, he reasoned with himself, maybe these are what the butterflies are, the need to hold what you love close to your heart.

The two were cuddling on the couch, Virgil half on Roman’s lap, a leg thrown over one of Roman’s. Virgil was tucked under Roman’s arm, looking up at him with some difficulty.

“Ilikeyou.”

Roman refused to look at him, eyebrows furrowed. He tensed. “I’m sorry?”

Virgil worried his bottom lip. “I like you. In a romantic way. I have a for a while now and I just wanted to let you know, you don’t have to like me back or anything! I mean, I hope you like me but it doesn’t have to be romantically, y’know?”

“Virgil,” Roman huffed softly, pressing his lips to Virgil’s forehead, and ignored the dread coating his insides. “I wish I did. You are a great person and— and I love you, but I don’t .. I don’t have romantic feelings for you. I’m sorry..”

His friend visibly swallowed and removed himself from Roman’s embrace, planting himself a few feet away. “Yeah, I.. I didn’t think you would, heh.” Virgil scratched the back of hand lightly, bringing his thoughts back down to the feeling of his nails. “Sorry, we can.. we can go back to what we were doing.”

Roman glanced around the room, his side feeling too cold all of a sudden. He opened his mouth to say something, anything.

“It’s fine, Roman. Drop it.”

So he did.

Logan was difficult to try to love at first, what with Logan denying a lot of his feelings and such. But doing so made Roman realize just how much he hadn’t noticed about their resident nerd. For example, Roman found that Logan had three prominent smiles. The first smile came through as amusement, seen most often with his lips pressed together, as to not laugh at a dad joke or something silly one of the twins did. The second was whenever someone referenced or used information Logan taught them. His lips would twitch up, and he’d give a proud little wiggle, usually finding something to cover his mouth with. Roman couldn’t understand why Logan would cover up such a gorgeous smile, but insecurities get the best of us. The third, and final smile, was whenever he’d actively rant about a subject he’s passionate about. The fastest way to an actor’s heart is through passion. That’s what Roman liked to think, anyways. The passionate smile could light a whole room, and when Logan grins, Roman could melt. He was absolutely sure he loved Logan. However, they fought. They fought a lot; almost every conversation had some sort of bickering, but Roman ignored that. Bickering and arguing is normal — healthy, even!

So when Logan asked him out, he ignored the anxiety prickling his spine and agreed.

Unfortunately, with their first date never given an exact time and place, it never ended up happening. The two were stuck in limbo, forever fated to dance around each other. Don’t get him wrong, Logan had tried but Roman always came up with excuses to back out of the date — “Sorry, Aunt Patty is sick, I have to take care of her.” “My work shift is that time.” and even “I haven’t done laundry in two weeks.”

“I’m tired of this, Roman.”

“Tired?” Roman echoed, unclenching his jaw forcefully. “Whatever do you mean, Professor Indigo?”

Logan pinched the bridge of his nose, knocking his glasses askew. “This. You agreed to go on a date with me but every time I come with a place and time, there’s always a reason not to. I’ve tried to compromise and have you pick or we both decide, but I’m getting nothing from you. Realistically, relationships are much like friendships. I cannot be the only one putting any effort into maintaining ours. So, I’m calling us off.”

Roman pushed his hands in his pockets, nails digging into his palms. “Calling… us off?”

“Yes,” Logan pushed his glasses up, clasping his hands together in front of him. “We are no longer considered to be in a relationship. I’m open to continue our friendship, however, if you would like.”

“I uh..” a thousand thorns scraped Roman’s tongue. He smiled, “I’d like that.”

He nodded with pursed lips. “Excellent.”

He thought he could love Janus because.. well, how could he not love a fellow theatre geek? Especially one who compliments him daily. Plus, he was very cute. Roman was charmed the moment he met him. It was like love at first sight! I mean, sure, they had a monumental fight soon after they met, but they’d resolved that! And not a moment too soon, either, for that’s when Roman discovered that he and Janus shared a few favourite musicals. They weren’t that close, Roman will admit, but it’s not their fault they’d get so excited and talk about mainly musicals and theatre every time they talked! And Janus.. oh, Janus was the biggest supporter of Roman’s theatre performances. This must be it, Roman had thought, making eye contact with Janus as he made his final bows. Janus was on his feet — like he always was — and grinning broadly, a far cry from his usual sly smirk. Roman wasn’t sure he could breathe any air into his lungs due to his chest filled with so much appreciation and gratefulness and excitement and happiness and.. this. This must be what love feels like. Tears collected in his eyes as he ran to his friends after the show, tackling Janus in a big hug.

It was the following day that Janus confessed, that he’d asked Roman out, and that Roman said yes.

The two dated for a whole month, Janus acting as he usually does but with more physical affection, and Roman? Well, Roman had convinced himself he was in love. He followed Janus around everywhere, and he would hardly not be in close contact with him, one way or another. The two were inseparable, if begrudgingly from one side. Well, they were inseparable, until Janus decided enough was enough.

Perhaps, Roman thought, if he hadn’t been so blind, so obsessed with finding romantic love, he might’ve realized sooner just how much he was hurting his friends.

So he sat alone, in his room, in their shared house. He sat alone, one of Virgil’s spare weighted blankets draped over his shoulders. He sat alone, waiting for the stale air to suffocate him.

He hadn’t been out of his room in several days, save to go to work. He was lucky the rooms each had their own bathroom. He was also lucky — or unlucky — that Virgil slept during the day due to night shifts and everybody else was either out or thought he was out all day. After all, why would the most boisterous, ‘take-all-the-risks’ of the bunch lock himself inside?

He wasn’t quite sure, either. Maybe it was guilt. Maybe he felt guilty for leading his friends on — the fact that every single one of them had fallen for him, or at least had developed a crush on him, when he was just trying to fulfill his own selfish desires. Maybe it was pity. Maybe he felt so damn pitiful for himself; imagine that, a hopeless romantic doomed to live without romantic love. Sure, there were always queer platonic relationships to consider, but it wasn’t the same, not really. He wanted to experience the romantic feelings, he wanted the butterflies, the flusters, the wooing. He wanted to drown in the passion they flooded him with. He didn’t want a romantic relationship. He could pine for all eternity, for all he cared. He just wanted to experience romantic attraction.

But he doesn’t. But he can’t.

So he sits alone. All alone in his room, with Virgil’s blanket, away from his friends. The friends he wanted to love so badly, it physically hurt.

He just wanted to love somebody.

[petri808]

hi!! can u do 30, 25 and 21 for bakudeku🤔🤔

Smut prompts Quick, while the kids are asleep + Someone is feeling frisky tonight + I know the best way to celebrate 🤣 this’ll be fun. As a parent I totally understand the feeling lol

Bakudeku with A/B/O underpinnings. O!Izuku & A!Katsuki. Porn Drabble w/minimal plot lol

If you think parenting is exhausting, try having fraternal twins whose personalities resemble their father’s thrown into the mix. Between working as a pro hero part time and raising the little alpha hellions, there were days Izuku Bakugou fueled himself on coffee and a prayer. Frankly, going out and taking down a villain was the relaxing part of his week.

After putting the twins to bed, Izuku dropped face first onto their downy nest where his husband was sitting propped up and reading the daily paper. “Akane and Takao finally went to sleep,” he mumbled into the pillow. “They just had to inherit your energy levels instead of mine.”

Katsuki chuckled, “they start school in spring, so that’ll help them burn some off. And you love my energy level,” he teased, tickling lightly at his mates’ side. “If it wasn’t for the birth control, we’d have a pack by now.”

Izuku turned to his side to avoid the tickling with a small blush lighting his cheeks. “Congrats on catching the villain today, Kacchan. He’s been a menace all week, so it’s great someone finally caught him.”

“Mmm,” Katsuki hummed as a grin took over, “and I know the best way to celebrate.” He put down the paper and pulled the man closer while sending out a wave of intoxicating pheromones to awaken his mate’s inner omega. “You’re tired, I can tell,” Katsuki crooned low and deep as his mate whimpered, “but I’ll take care of you Izu.”

“We should be quick, while the kids are asleep.”

“Tch. They’ll sleep till morning, as long as you’re not too loud.” Izuku’s blush deepened from the truthful words. “Come on baby,” Katsuki pulled his mate into his arms and stood up, carrying the man towards the bathroom. “I’ll give you a bath.”

“Someone is feeling frisky tonight,” Izuku giggled, for he knew exactly what his mate was insinuating. Water sex was a treat, but also dampened the noise— a necessity when you’ve got kids.

“I’m always feeling frisky when you’re this close.” Katsuki teased back. “Besides,” he kissed Izuku’s forehead. “Taking care of you is my honor.”

Izuku purred and snuggled to his husband’s chest. “And no one takes better care of me then Kacchan.” Outsiders who only saw Katsuki’s tough side would be shocked at how soft he was behind closed doors.

“Damn right!” Katsuki’s inner alpha preened with pride. He put his mate down and stripped them both of clothing, before turning on the shower. Their modest house had a fully enclosed, tiled hybrid bathroom containing both a modern shower and a furo tub for soaking. Izuku could bathe the children in the traditional manner, while the adults could shower or soak after a grueling day of work. It was a feature that prompted Katsuki to buy the place for his growing family.

While Izuku kept his arms loosely draped over his mate’s shoulders, Katsuki kept his nose buried in the man’s neck, kissing along the flesh as he gently lathered up the rest of his body, and took in the licentious scent emanating from Izuku’s mate mark. He didn’t need to see what he was doing, having mapped out and committed to memory every curve and crevice on his mate’s form. Toned and sinewy muscled back and chest, the man’s childbearing hips, sweet, juicy ass, to a cute little cocklet and his plump little pussy. Even the tiny little pooch still evident on his stomach— a mark of having born a pup, they were all beautiful to Katsuki. Izuku had always been his, and there was nothing in the world that could ever take that away.

As the water cascaded over their bodies and washed away the soap, Katsuki’s fingers teased, palming the short shaft full of sensitive nerve endings. “Kacchan…” Izuku mewled at the man’s lingering hand over his cocklet.

“Shh,” Katsuki silenced the whining with his mouth.

The steamy air grew thick with their heightened pheromones. Izuku’s muffled moans melded with the sounds of the water and his thighs squeezed together, rubbing at the burning ache building up between them. His inner omega only wanted one thing, but the alpha aimed to satisfy all his other senses too.

“Izu…” Katsuki growled headily as his fangs bit down on the man’s mate mark.

“Ka—” Izuku bit down and clenched his jaw to stop his cries. No way he wanted to wake the kids now as the flood of stimulants surged through his body. “Please…” he whined.

The alpha picked Izuku up and placed his back against the wall as a brace, while the omega moved on instinct to wrap his legs around the man’s hips. Izuku then maneuvered the alphas cock into place and ground down, sheathing it until the knot caught hold. Katsuki gasped, moaned into his mate’s neck— oh, how he loved the completed feeling it always gave... His lips found purchase once again, taking all that Izuku gave in return, their heated breaths and tongues exploring as if for the first time.

Izuku wove a hand through Katsuki’s wet hair while the other dug into the flesh of his shoulder, squeezing, nails digging in with each forceful push, and rock of the alphas thrusting hips. He wanted to call out the man’s name in a mantra for the world to hear, but bore it down in his mind, with only slips of wispy mewls and purrs leaching through clenched teeth. Harder… he begged psychically, and as if heard through their bond, Katsuki suddenly planted his footing and pressed harder, pumping his hips faster until Izuku was bouncing off the hard tile wall.

The increased rubbing against his cocklet, coupled with the friction burning the walls of his entrance became too much for Izuku as he came undone. Katsuki clamped his mouth over the man’s lips seconds after his name was screamed and held it while the orgasm spawned through his mate’s entire frame, legs clenching and releasing, and nails drawing watery bloody trails along his back and shoulders. Adrenaline was all that kept him from feeling any pain, the high of satisfaction ready to force his own inevitable conclusion.

Katsuki thrust his hips full force one more time to push the knot all the way in, “Fuc—” groaning into Izuku’s mouth at the euphoric feeling. He held his mate down by the hips, fingers gripping to the bony points to make sure he didn’t pull out accidentally and rode out each pump of seed being milked dry.

So far, so good, no sounds of waking children, only the flow of water cascading around them, mixed with their heavy breathing. Izuku’s legs loosened, but Katsuki kept him from falling. He kissed the omegas skin above the red and swollen mate mark, giving it a few healing licks. “I’m so lucky to have you,” he crooned to his beautiful, green-haired omega.

“I’m lucky to have my Kacchan,” Izuku purred back. “My… Kacchan…” he kissed the alphas lips soft and slow. “Maybe… after the kids start primary, we could have one more?”

Katsuki chuckled and kissed his mate while placing a gentle hand over the omegas stomach. “I can’t wait to see you waddling around the house again.”

“Kacchan!” Izuku pouted. “That’s mean.”

“Why?” The alpha grinned. “I think you’re fucking adorable.”

[honeybeeespeaks]

Room 205

gif by @pedropcl

Part Three

Word Count: 4842

Warnings: Smut (18+), alcohol consumption, adult content, lil age gap

Summary: Nell and Javier begin to spend more time together. Their friends put pressure on them.

P.S. Sorry if the formatting is weird, I usually post from mobile!<3

—————————————————— 

It had been four days since Javier’s impromptu visit to Nell’s room. Since then, it was hard to keep his mind off of her. The vision she was as she stripped down in front of the pool, the moments they shared just staring back at each other, looking away before it was too long. She didn’t expect anything of him. He hadn’t felt like that....his whole life, if he thought about it. The words she used when she talked about life were ones he’d never think to use to describe his or any life for that matter. It was like she’d been on Earth before there was life, like she was there when it started. She appreciated it in a way he didn’t recognize, in a way he couldn’t. She fascinated him completely, like no one had before.

So he found himself here. Standing at the door to the back of her classroom, lunch bag in one hand while the other was closed in a tight fist, nails digging into his palm nervously. Taking a deep breath, he opened the door and stepped in as quietly as he could. His gaze found her standing at the front of the room with a circle of at least eighteen 5 and 6 year olds sitting around her, listening intently. She wore a pale pink short sleeve sundress and teal flats. He took a seat in the back corner, a smile growing on his lips as he watched her.

“Doesn’t that sound fun you guys? You’ll each get a seed to plant in one of these little pots and they’ll live on the windowsill. During the weeks, we’ll water them and we’ll be able to watch our plants grow.” Nell’s eyes caught Javier in the corner and she tried stifling a smile when he waved lazily. Truth be told, she hadn’t stopped thinking about him since that night either. He surprised her right out the gate. He didn’t judge her, even though their lifestyles were vastly different. She thought he had kind eyes and a warm smile, something rare for someone who had seen what he saw and she appreciated that. There was something special about Javier. It felt silly saying he gave her butterflies as soon as she saw him in the classroom but she didn’t know how else to describe the feeling. She let her smile break and shook her head, giving him a small wave before turning her attention back to her kids. “Okay kiddos, the bell is going to ring for lunch any minute so why don’t we get all our things together so we can be the first ones in the lunchroom huh? We can start our project after recess.” The kids all stood up with a cheer and ran over to their cubbies to gather their things for lunch and recess. She had them line up and another teacher appeared in the doorway to escort the kids to the lunchroom when the bell rang. Once all the kids were out of the class, Nell shut the door and turned her gaze to Javier. He stood, making his way over to meet her in the middle of the room.

“Well, you certainly clean up nice, Agent Peña.” she teased, a small smirk danced on her lips as her eyes followed up his body until she met his face. He huffed out a short laugh, setting his hand on his hip. His head fell for a moment before looking back up to meet her eyes.

“I could say the same to you, Miss James.” Nell curtsied and fluttered her eyelashes, an over exaggerated smile playing on her mouth.

“Oh why thank you.” She giggled a little bit as she stood up straight, running her hand through her hair. “What are you doin’ here? Finally come to arrest me?” she raised her eyebrows at him as she moved to begin cleaning up leftover craft work from an earlier lesson. He shook his head, chuckling softly as he watched her move. She moved like water. Flowing gracefully through the tiny tables and chairs.

“Maybe later.” he teased. “What are you doing for lunch?” An eyebrow raised as his hand dropped from his hip and he shifted his weight to his other foot. Nell stood up straight after filing away a few papers in her folder. She hummed for a moment, tapping her chin a few times as she tried not to burst into a smile.

“Nothing...why?” she eyed him curiously. A smirk grew slowly on Javier’s mouth and he bit down on his lip for a moment. He wet his lips and stepped closer to where she stood at her desk.

“Can I show you something?”

----

Javier led her down a path that was next to the elementary school, a canopy of green enveloping them as they made their way. After about five minutes, it opened to a small pond surrounded by a few benches. The way the sun hit the water made it look like there were flames coming up from its depths. There were wildflowers surrounding the banks of the pond, blowing softly in the breeze as it passed. It was breathtaking. Nell let out a long exhale as she looked around, shaking her head a bit before looking up at him. 

“I never knew this place was here....it’s beautiful.” he watched her eyes return to their surroundings and a soft smile formed on his lips.

“Not a lot of people do.” he held his hand out for her and nodded toward one of the benches. “Come on.”

----

“Woodstock?” He laughed a little bit after he’d finished the last of his food. “Your middle name is Woodstock?” he turned to face her where they sat. The sun shimmered against the water in front of them. She nodded a couple times, swallowing her bite of the peanut butter and jelly sandwich she’d brought with her.

“Yeah, what about it?” She giggled a little and shrugged. “My parents thought it fitting, considering I was born there.” Javier looked at her in surprise.

“You were born at Woodstock? Huh..” he nodded once and huffed out a small laugh. “God, I’m getting old.” She smiled at him and shrugged nonchalantly. It never even crossed her mind that he was so much older. He was far more interesting to talk to than anyone around her age anyways. She looked out at the water with a fond smile forming on her lips.

“I was born at 2:24 in the morning. The moon was barely a sliver in the sky, mom used to tell me..” he watched her intently as she trailed off, then leaning forward to rest his forearms on his thighs, intertwining his fingers between his knees and following her gaze to the water.

“So you’ve really been traveling your whole life..” he started. “...have you ever had a home anywhere?” Her eyes were almost sympathetic as she moved her gaze to his back. Taking a small breath, she shook her head slowly.

“Home isn’t always a place, Javier.” she replied simply. He turned his head to meet her gaze and nodded after a moment, his lips melting into a tiny smile as he considered her words. 

A familiar silence fell between them, insects buzzing and bird songs replacing their words. Nell glanced at her watch after a few minutes. “Damn, I gotta get back.” She flashed him an apologetic smile before beginning to pack up her things. 

“Hold on a second.” He interrupted and reached over. “You’ve just got a little something.” Her breath hitched in her throat as he used his thumb to wipe leftover grape jelly from the side of her mouth. She bit her lip a tiny bit as she watched him bring his thumb up to his mouth, cleaning off the remnants. She gulped and let out a shaky breath.

“Thank you..” she flushed a little and shook her head with a nervous giggle. “Let’s go.” He smirked softly before he followed her actions and packed up his leftovers, dropping his water bottle in his bag before standing with her. 

They took their time as they made their path back to the elementary school, stopping when they came to the double doors. Nell turned to face him and smiled softly.

“Thank you for this.” He shrugged a bit with a short laugh. 

“Least I could do after keeping you up until almost 7 in the morning.” Nell laughed a little bit as she glanced to the concrete beneath them before lifting her head back up to meet his gaze.

“Oh that was nothing.” she waved it off with a small smile. They stood for a few moments just looking at each other before Nell swallowed and nodded her head back toward the double doors. “I’d better go.” Javier nodded a few times, flashing her a soft smile before he started to step backwards toward the parking lot.

“Right of course, I should get headed too.” he stopped for a moment. “Hey, um...do you wanna do this again next week?” She bit her lip as a smile began to form on her lips, nodding a few times slowly.

“Yeah, I’d like that..”

——————————————————

Their lunches by the pond soon became a weekly affair. Every Thursday, Javier would show up at the back of Nell’s classroom right before the bell rang. They would eat and complain about work together while they watched ducks pass on the water. He still showed up at her motel room every few days when he couldn’t sleep. Truthfully, Javier had been doing better and didn’t always actually need to go to Nell’s, but he wanted to be around her. They would take a long walk when the world was sleeping or stay in and drink beer in her room. He still wasn’t much of a talker but he told Nell more Greek stories that he got from his mother and inquired about her adventurous childhood. Nell happily indulged, telling fantastical tales her mother shared with her as she grew up and talking all about the different places she’d been. He was happy not talking so long as he could listen to her voice fill the empty spaces. She would smile a little wider every time Javier did talk about something in his past he normally wouldn’t. He’d slip and tell a grand story of stupid shit he’d done as a kid or stories of first going into the academy. Nothing more than that, but it was enough to let Nell know that he could open up and certainly would, given more time. He was comfortable with her and she wasn’t sure that he’d been that way with anyone in a long time. And no matter what, whether Javier brought them in a styrofoam box or they ate at the diner, the nights would always end with blueberry pancakes.

On the Friday of the fourth week, both Nell and Javier were talked into going out to a bar with Drew and Rose. The group was finishing up their third round of drinks when Drew offered to get the next one. The girls thanked him as he and Javier made their way over to the bar. The two men made themselves comfortable as they waited to get the bartender’s attention. Drew let out a sigh and turned to Javier.

“What do you think, Javi, ever gonna settle down? Not getting any younger.” he nudged him with a small laugh. Javier rolled his eyes and scoffed a bit. 

“Yeah...” he trailed off as his eyes moved back to the table the girls sat around and landed on Nell. He watched as she moved her hair off her shoulder, how her eyes crinkled when she giggled. She was rapturous. Free within herself. Javier hadn’t let himself experience that in a long time, if ever. The closest he got was when they were together. Drew was right, he wasn’t getting any younger. It wasn’t like he didn’t want the life Drew had. The wife, kids, the big house complete with the white fence and a dog. He could see a life like that, sure. What the hell was he so afraid of? His eyes caught Nell’s and it made his breath hitch in his throat. They stayed like that for a few moments before Javier cleared his throat and averted his gaze, downing the remaining contents of his glass.

Nell jumped when Rose tapped her shoulder a couple times. She breathed a small laugh and shook her head, turning back to her.

“Sorry, I got--”

“Distracted?” Rose interrupted, teasing her. She laughed and shook her head a little. “Yeah, Nell, that’s been happening all night. You two can’t keep your eyes off of each other.” Nell rolled her eyes playfully before they landed on Rosie again. 

“Oh, come on. It hasn’t been that bad.” Rose raised her eyebrows with wide eyes and shot her a smirk.

“No no not bad at all, the footsie you’ve been playing under the table all night too means absolutely nothing.” Nell’s jaw dropped a little at her and her cheeks flushed slightly. She crossed her arms and looked away.

“I..have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Nell, you kicked my foot like three times by accident.” Rosie smirked a little, stifling a laugh as Nell turned back around to face her. They burst into giggles and Nell shook her head after a moment, groaning softly as her head fell into her hands. She lifted it to look at Rose once more. 

“It is that bad.” Rosie giggled and nodded a couple of times, glancing over at the pair at the bar.

“If you need me and Drew to leave, just say the word.” Nell scoffed out a laugh and swatted at her, rolling her eyes again.

“Oh my god, stop right now.” she giggled and let her eyes trail back to where Javier and Drew stood at the bar.

After the men had ordered the drinks for the table, Drew turned to Javier.

“So...Nell. You haven’t fucked her yet?” Javier’s eyes fell to the sticky bar in front of him, huffing out a short laugh before shifting his jaw a little.

“I’m uh...I’m working on it.” he placed his empty glass down carefully before crossing his arms and turning his head back to look at Drew.

“I mean, you’ve known this girl...what? A month?” Drew breathed out a chuckle. “Not like you to wait so long Javi. She’s gotta be something special.” Javi shook his head once, trying to stifle a grin that was beginning to form on his lips.

“I don’t know man, she’s different..” he trailed off a little as the bartender set their drinks down in front of them. Javier grabbed his and Nell’s and looked at Drew again. “I don’t have to..put on a face and be ‘the DEA guy’ or anything with her.” he shrugged, glancing down at the floor as he turned a bit and found her eyes among the crowded bar once more. She met his gaze and gave him a soft smile. He watched as Rosie leaned over and whispered in her ear. Nell’s mouth fell open and her eyes were torn from his as she turned to Rose and playfully hit her arm. He shook his head and chuckled under his breath.“She’s different.”

——————————————————

It was hot today. Almost unbearably hot. The kind of hot Nell hadn’t experienced in a while. It was about a week after the night out at the bar and she found herself on Javier’s father’s ranch. She was recruited to help repair a line of fencing while Javier’s dad was away in San Antonio for a few days. If she had known the task at hand, her golden yellow sundress littered in tiny white flowers would not have been her first choice of wardrobe for the day. Though she was thankful for the lack of material on her legs. Her hair was tied up in a ribbon that matched her dress and she was covered in a thin layer of sweat. To say she actually helped fix the fence would be a stretch, considering not even halfway through she started to wander around, picking wildflowers that grew on the property. Javier couldn’t keep his eyes off of her. She was something akin to a Greek goddess, enveloped in golden light. The way the material hugged her body, the thin spaghetti straps trailing to the middle of her back. Her hair tied up in a ribbon that kept it off of her neck. Her neck, fuck, her neck. He wanted his hand wrapped around it while he fucked her in that tight little dress. 

At some point, Javier had abandoned his gray t-shirt, slinging it over his shoulder as he worked. Nell caught herself staring more than a few times as he lifted a few of the heavy boards, sweat glistening along his arms, chest and back. One moment, her mouth fell open just slightly as he walked back to where the fence stood and put down a board. Javier smirked a little as he noticed her watching him. He cleared his throat loudly enough to get her attention and her mouth snapped shut, cheeks flushing bright red as she turned away from him. His head fell with a breathy chuckle escaping his throat. His gaze moved back to her and watched her for a moment as she counted the flowers she held in her hands. He bit his lip as she bent over just slightly to pick another long stemmed flower from the ground. The way the dress fell over her ass almost made him want to take her then and there. He would have if there wasn’t a danger of any relatives stopping for a surprise visit.

Clouds began rolling in and the air got heavier as the day progressed. Nell set her flowers in a pile on the ground, looking up at the sky as the clouds merged and covered the blue sky in dark gray and white. She smiled as the familiar scent of a storm coming filled her nose and turned to look at Javier. He took his t-shirt and wiped the sweat off his forehead, his gaze finding hers as a warm smile graced his mouth. A droplet of rain bounced off her shoulder and her head turned toward the darkened sky once more as the droplets became heavier and more constant. She let her head fall back, taking a deep breath in and letting it out slowly, a smile adorning her lips as it began to pour around her. Her head snapped up when she heard Javier calling her name. She watched as he frantically covered the unused materials in a tarp, his near panic conjuring a giggle from her throat. He jogged over to where she stood and shook out his hair, already becoming soaked from the rain. He nodded back toward the direction of the main house.

“Let’s go inside.” he offered his hand to her and she shook her head, rolling her eyes playfully. She hummed softly and turned away from him, reaching up to undo the ribbon in her hair then running her fingers through as the rain wet her brunette waves. She stretched her arms out and spun around once, laughing a little at the look Javier gave her.

“Dance with me.” She flashed him a smile that hit him right in the chest. God she was so beautiful. What he wouldn’t give just to touch her. He shook his head with a laugh as he watched her spin around again.

“Dance with you? It’s pouring!” His response elicited a scoffed laugh and an exaggerated eye roll from Nell.

“Oh it’s just water!” She giggled, waving her ribbon around a few times before dropping it to the ground. “Come and dance with me, Javier.” Her tone suggested it was no longer an option for him and he gave in with a breathy laugh, taking the hand she offered him, tossing his t-shirt to the ground. He pulled her to him and she laid her free hand on his shoulder while his moved to rest on her hip. The two of them erupted into tiny giggles as they swayed together, Javier spinning her around before she came to stop against him. She flushed slightly as she looked up at him, averting her gaze to the ground quickly. She bit her lip as a small smile came to her mouth, leaning down to pick up her discarded ribbon. Javier’s brows furrowed as he watched her come back up and grab his arm. He kept his gaze on her with a warm smile as she began tying the ribbon around his wrist. Her head slowly moved to look up at him after she dropped his arm gently. Her hands came to rest just barely on his naked chest as Javier snaked his arms around her. He pulled her flush against him, his hands pressing to the small of her back. 

The rain was heavier now, soaking them where they stood. Nell let out a slow shuttered breath, her eyes flickering from his lips to his eyes and back. She sucked in a tight breath as he took one of his hands from her back and tilted her chin up with his forefinger. Her lips parted slightly as he moved his hand to cradle her face, sweeping his thumb along her bottom lip just barely. He leaned down gently, lips just barely brushing against hers when lightning flashed, illuminating the sky with a harsh crack of thunder that followed, causing them both to jump back from each other. Their heavy breaths turned into small giggles as Javier took her hand in his, both flinching again as another crash of thunder bellowed from the clouds. They looked at each other with wide eyes and started to run through the field to the nearest shelter. A particularly harsh boom made Nell shriek right as they passed through the doors to the tool shed. Javier closed the door, moving a block of wood in place to stop the wind from blowing it open. He huffed out a breath as he turned and rested his back against the door. His eyes found Nell on the opposite side of the shed, leaning against the workbench and trying to catch her breath. His eyes landed on her dampened chest, rising and falling in a steady rhythm. Her eyes caught his after a moment and they stood with their eyes locked for what seemed like ages. Their shallow breaths the only sound inside the tiny space. 

Javier couldn’t take it anymore. He thought he might explode if he had to endure one more second without his hands on her. In one swift motion, he was on the other side of the shed, wrapping an arm around her as his mouth crashed against hers. The other hand snaked into her wet hair, cradling the back of her head as he pushed her against the workbench. A whimper left Nell’s throat as her hands threaded into his hair, pulling him as close as she could get him. He took her bottom lip between his teeth as he pulled away gently, earning a soft sound from her. His hands slipped beneath her thighs, lifting her up onto the table and settling himself between her legs. His head dipped to her neck, his lips exploring the tiny valley of tanned skin. She tasted like sunscreen and sweat. There was something sweet in there too, he just couldn’t place it. Nell’s eyes fluttered closed, letting out a soft breathy moan. He slid a hand up her calf, beneath her dress to her thigh and squeezed, pulling her against him. She squeaked out a gasp and moved her hands to grip his shoulders tightly as the bulge straining his jeans brushed against her thinly covered center. She watched him continue his trail down her neck, nearly ripping the straps of her dress as he tugged the top of her dress down. His eyes shot up to hers in surprise at the sight of the little silver piercings. She took in a deep breath and bit her lip, giving him a little smirk. He groaned a little and pushed himself against her center again as he sprinkled kisses and tiny love bites across her chest. Nell sucked in a breath at the contact, running her fingers through his hair and tugging at the nape of his neck. He let out a low growl as his hands moved quickly to undo his jeans, shuffling them down to the middle of his thighs. She moved to slip off her underwear but Javier grabbed her wrists to stop her.

“Keep them on.” he commanded, making Nell’s breath hitch in her throat. Her cheeks flushed  when their eyes met and she nodded a little bit, swallowing hard.

“Okay..” she breathed as he guided her arms to wrap around his neck. His lips were back on hers almost before she finished the word, pulling her against him with one arm while the other moved between them, slipping beneath her underwear. She gasped against his mouth, squeaking out tiny moans as his fingers circled her clit. She could feel herself dripping onto his fingers, making her buck her hips against his hand and pulled away from the kiss, crying out as two fingers slipped inside her. He grinned as her head fell to his shoulder, moaning as teeth sunk in, making his cock twitch suddenly. Fuck, he needed to be inside her. Now. He pulled his hand away, Nell whimpering at the loss of contact. He threaded it into her hair and pulled her up to face him, kissing her deeply as his other hand moved under her dress, pushing her underwear to the side. He pulled away, trailing love bites and short kisses along her jaw as he lined himself up with her entrance.

“Look down, hermosa.” He whispered against her cheek as her fingers slipped back into his hair. Her head fell back with a whimper as he trailed kisses down her neck, scattering them across her chest. “Look. Watch me as I take you.” A small gasp escaped her throat as her head rolled to fall forward, her jaw dropping slightly as Javier hiked her dress up a little more. 

“Oh my god..” Her arms wrapped around his neck as a calloused hand came up to wrap around her throat, keeping her gaze down. The sensation of her ribbon on his wrist tickling her collarbones gave her goosebumps. His fingers gripped the supple flesh of her thigh as he pushed himself into her suddenly. The choked sob that fluttered from her lips was muffled as Javier’s mouth roughly met hers with a low growl. She whined against him as he began thrusting into her, his grip around her neck tightening ever so slightly as he sucked on her bottom lip. He pulled away to lay hot open mouthed kisses down her chest as his arm wrapped around her hips. He pulled himself out of her nearly all the way before snapping his hips against hers, filling her completely. She cried out as thunder crashed harshly, making the shed shake a little. Javier’s pace quickened, sliding his hand up her throat to cradle her face as he kissed her fervidly. He tightened his grip around her waist to her hips in place, feeling her walls squeeze around his cock. She started shaking gently as her orgasm ran through every inch of her body, her nails digging into his shoulder blades. She pulled away with a gasp, her head falling back against the wall as she squeezed her eyes shut. Quick little repeated whimpers fell from her lips as she finally came around him. He ducked his head to the curve of her neck, moaning against her skin as he emptied himself inside her. She collapsed against the wall trying to catch her breath, a new layer of sweat laid on her skin. Her fingers raked through his hair slowly as her body continued to shake. She hummed, a small smile forming on her lips as she felt Javier peppering small kisses up her neck. He nuzzled his nose against her earlobe, biting at her jaw and chin a little before placing a gentle kiss against her lips. He breathed out a grunt as he pulled himself out of her, wrapping both arms around her to pull her as close to him as he could get her. Nell laid her head against his chest as her arms wrapped around him, her shaking body slowing down as their breathing went back to normal. 

“Hmm...it’s about time.” she mumbled against his chest, smiling when she felt the soft chuckle he let out. He nodded a few times and kissed the top of her head as he ran his fingers through her now drying hair. 

“Agreed.”

——————————————————

Taglist: @stevieharrrr, @tarrevizslas, @coredrive​, @pascalplease​, @keeper0fthestars​, @irishleesh93, @mrsparknuts​, @emwriterblr​, @voteforpedropascal​, @valhallavalkyrie9​

[fly-sky-high-bug-games]

Trapper Mugo

Species: moth

Design based on (kind of): Brindled green moth

Birthed at Highgrove but moved to Hallownest when fairly young, Mugo started taking interest in critters that lived there. Some time as a teen, he met the Hunter and the two talked about the journal. Mugo gave the hunters journal a try but quickly realized he has no thrill in killing the critters he encounters. Instead, he wanted to study them eventually started making traps and such to capture them instead, finding the cunning of the hunt to be more interesting than killing. Likewise, he liked exploring the flora and fauna of Hallownest. It use to be a lot more exciting before it all got infected...

As a young adult, Mugo found himself at the Colosseum of Fools during one of his travels. There, he met his future boss, Boss, a mechanic that works on the stage setup during the battles. She recognized his skills and understanding of critters so she hired him to capture and bring them for the coli fights She also build and provided mechanics for the traps needed. It was a learning experience but Mugo eventually grew to enjoy his job.

During one of the busy days at the Colosseum, he learned it was visited by the group of nobles called Magnolia family who stayed at the City of Tears at the time. He was curious about them as they come from the same kingdom where he use to live but has barely any memories of. Alyssum, a butterfly from the family, noticed him and the two started chatting when other nobles weren’t around. The two were completely different worlds so they just clicked in the conversations. Mugo was head over heals in love with Alyssum and she warmed up to him as well during the Magnolia family’s long stay at the city.

The two dated, meeting mostly at night and deep within the city on their own, just being in love. As the time went by, Alyssum started to try convince Mugo to come with her, become part of the Magnolia rule and family and live as a noble by her side at Highgrove. However, over time of the two dating, Mugo learned the family was rotten business and trouble so he kept refusing her offer, countering it with his that she should stay with him instead. Alyssum also refused, losing her patience, demanding for him to join her side, showing that she had no intentions in losing her status in a ruling family of another kingdom, claiming that her wishes should be final. This hurt Mugo but made it clear they will stick to their own viewpoints that gave more strains on their relationship that slowly started to fall apart.

Argument after the other, the two broke up on bad terms in a fight, Alyssum scaring his face with her magic as he tried to escape from her possessive act. Heartbroken and injured, Mugo retreated to lake of Unn for some time to be alone. They haven’t heard from one another in quite some time after that until Alyssum sent him a letter to meet her at the Crossroads as one last attempt of “mending” the relationship. Mugo never showed up. As things became hectic within Hallownest, Alyssum eventually left and Mugo hasn’t seen her since and many years passed...

Mugo fully focused on his hunting business, changing tactics, trapping and alike as things within the kingdom changed as well, filling his journal and notes with useful info about every beast and critter, their tricks, weaknesses and strengths and how to deal with them. He worked alone and did everything as a lone wolf unless the task requested a group work.

After meeting Rham and Yonna on the way back to Colosseum one day, he learned he missed companionship and friends, growing rather close to both, feeling welcome and happy for the first time in a long while.

---

Characteristics:

+: Adaptable, intuitive, strong willed, helpful -: Withdrawn, vengeful, clings to the past, somewhat harsh n: cunning, fair, righteous 

Inventory:

Spendable/Consumable: 

Sweet root: A root equivalent of a sweet snack or an energy drink, depending on how much you eat it. It’s not very favorable but it’s VERY juicy and sweet! It’s like sugared water. Mugo LOVES these. Often replaces them for actual food which isn’t healthy.

Lifeblood gel: Made out of herbal roots, hot spring water and lifeblood seeds. It’s for external use ONLY and heals wounds faster~ Can’t mend any internal injuries though. Too much application might worsen the healing, especially if wounds aren’t properly cleaned first.

Spare Lifeblood seeds (for now): Because who doesn’t want to have the marks of the heretics around, right? ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ Known to drive regular bugs a little… ditsy or delusional if eaten raw. Good for internal injuries but one won’t be able to get back to their feet easy for few hours.

Sleeping Pollen: Collected from a specific plant, causes drowsiness or sleep when eaten or inhaled. Too much of it can knock out a person for hours.

Numbroot: Extremely bitter but nothing subdues pain like few bites from it. Internal use only. Too many bites lead to full numbness for couple of hours. Some factions of other kingdoms use the extracted liquid from it for assassinations. Mugo takes bites of it to kill off his back pains…

Stinger ivy extract: A potion of a sort, made by the shamans. He isn’t sure what’s mixed in them but it helps recover from electric shocks and stings. Has one spare bottle just in case, as he avoid any charged lumaflies if he can. Didn’t seem to use it in recent shocking events but decided to walk it off instead…

Fog mushroom: A specific type of fungi that lets out a lot of smoke when placed near fire. It’s like a fungi fog machine if thrown in fire, easily covering a lot of space in thick, funky smelling fog. Mugo uses it for hunting belflies who rely on the sight. (he can see their glow but they can’t see him coming for them with the traps~)

Ember seeds: Plant seeds that pop and crack loudly when near heat or in fire. Good for scaring off large critters away or in specific directions (like where traps are set~)

Odor bomb: Kept in the palm sized round chestnut like shell, it’s a mix of collected, specific droppings that have a strong scent. To some critters, it’s a sign to get out of there and to some, it’s a wonderful bait to come close to…

Hive nectar: EXTREMELY RARE, a gift from someone, owns just a small pill size with him. It speeds up recovery and healing of any sort, even from the illnesses but only for less than a day which is often enough to pull someone out of a critical state. Carries it and keeps it with him at all times for most alert emergency.

Items:

Traps, nets and gadgets (only during hunting): Depending on the errand at the time, the types and sizes of them vary and he carries only essential ones for the job.

Two large nails the same size and look: The nails are long with short handles. Uses to both fend himself and to agitate critters when necessary or activate traps from the distance. Uses one for shield and other for striking but isn’t a very good fighter, only super fast on reactions and saving his husk.

Emblem of White Magnolia: a necklace with a pedant that’s always around his neck, gifted by Alyssum. Unlike the original Magnolia family symbol that has pink hues over the flower petals, the white one represents Alyssum’s faction of the family. Always keeps it around his neck, hidden by Mugo’s thick mane. 

Forsaken Dagger: Carries Taka’s ashen essence, named purely out of troublesome events it caused to the group. Have yet to be examined. After paying Sly 2000 Geo for it, having it be stolen minutes after, taken to the dream realm to cause problems to Taka and then taken back only to end up in Mugo’s hands again, he’s not too trilled to have it but has to.

[lotusss-flowerbomb]

Close Friends

Word Count: 1739

Florian Munteanu x Reader

Warnings: Smut, 18+

********

You jumped up out of your bed at the sound of banging on your door.

"What the actual fuck?" You said aloud snatching your robe off of the closet door. You headed down the stairs and screamed that you were coming. You snatched the door open after looking through the peephole and seeing who it was. "You'd better be dying, Florian!"

Your friend stood on the other side of the door with a big smile on his face. "Dying? I'm indestructible," he lifted his arm and kissed his giant bicep. You rolled your eyes at his antics. He was definitely drunk.

"Did you drive?" You ask concerned.

"Nah, Sandro called me an Uber. He was supposed to take me home, but your place was closer." He moved and waved to the driver who was still sitting at curb, probably waiting to make sure he could get inside. "He was a nice guy," he said and pushed past you into the house.

You sighed, "Go sit down, I'll be right back," you headed into the kitchen and grabbed a bottle of water and then grabbed some excedren from your purse. "Here," you handed him the items and watched him gulp down half the water with the pills.

"How much did you have to drink?"

"Not much, just a shot or two. I don't know," he shrugged, "I lost count after six."

"Flo!"

"I'm fine. It's okay, I don't drink that often. I was just having some fun with the guys," he smiled at you and laid his head on your lap.

You couldn't help but smile back. He was such a giant teddy bear. People who didn't know him outside of the ring would never guess.

"I'm gonna go get you a blanket. You seriously gotta sleep this off." You moved from beneath him and skipped up the stairs. After grabbing what you needed you shut the door and Florian was standing on the other side. "Shit!" You dropped the pillow and blanket and clutched your chest, "dude, you scared the shit out of me!"

He just laughed. He was extremely light on his feet for someone so big. You had no idea he'd come up the stairs. Quite honestly, you didn't think he'd really make it with how wobbly he was.

"Well, since you were able to stumble your way up here you can take the guest room." You flicked on the light in the other room and made your way to the bed to pull the covers back for him. He kicked off his shoes and sat on the edge.

"You're a good friend," he said.

"I know. Who else would let you bang on their door in the middle of the night and not shoot you?" You joked. You leaned in to kiss his forehead and wish him a good night when his hand snaked around your waist and pulled you closer. "What are you doing?" You laughed nervously.

"Something that I've been thinking about for a while now," he kissed your neck. Your eyes fluttered closed as a light tingle made its way through your body.

"Flo..." your words trailed off as he hooked his hands around your thighs and pulled you into a straddling position on his lap. His slow licks and nips on your neck never stopped. "Flo, we can't do this, you're drunk," you pushed him back.

He used one hand to squeeze your ass, "I'm not that drunk," he brought the other hand to the belt of your robe and pulled. There was a low growl in his throat upon seeing you only had on a pair of skimpy night shorts underneath. He kissed the tops of each of your breasts before flicking his tongue out over your nipple.

"Mm," you brought your arm around his neck arching yourself into him more. He bit down lightly earning another moan from you. You dug your nails into the back of his neck and he moved to the other side showing the other nipple just as much attention. You grinded on his growing bulge.

"That's my girl," he pulled the robe off and flipped you onto your back. He yanked the shorts off and threw them across the room. You lie there naked and feeling completely exposed. You instinctively wrapped your arms around yourself. "Move them," he demanded. When you didn't budge he grabbed you, yanked them apart and placed them above your head. "You don't need to hide from me."

He brought his lips to yours. A soft peck at first, to reassure his previous words to you, and then a hungry kiss. He ran his tongue across your bottom lip and waited for you to allow him entry. Your tongues swirled around together like a perfect dance. You moaned into his mouth as you felt him pulling back to break the kiss. He trailed those hungry kisses down your neck, through the valley of your beautiful breasts and down to your sex. He parted your thighs and hovered over you for a moment, which made you squirm with anticipation.

He took his middle finger and rubbed your clit. A touch so light it almost felt like you'd imagined it. "Florian," you breathed. This teasing was going to kill you.

He didn't care. He curled his finger and used his knuckle to rub up and down, spreading your slick. "Damn, you're so fucking wet," he admired you. Finally, he planted a kiss on your clit, before slowly swiping his tongue from your hole to the sensitive nub. You let out a loud hiss at the contact. 

Florian expertly rolled his tongue over your clit. The moans coming from you emboldened him to continue. He grabbed your ankles and pushed your legs back opening you up to him completely. He continued his assault with his tongue on your clit, loudly slurping and sucking as you grinded into him, then used his tongue to invade your pussy.

"Fuccckkkk," you moaned as he tongue fucked you. He moved his hand from your ankle and used his thumb to work your clit. "Flo —fuck!" You raked your fingers up his neck, "I'm gonna —ah!" You were once again unable to finish your sentence as your orgasm rocked your body.

"That's it, baby. Cum for me, prințesă." He watched as your pussy convulsed around nothing. Begging to be filled as your sweet nectar was released. "Damn," he marveled as he stuck his tongue out to go in for a taste and coated it with you. He rose to meet you on the bed as you enthusiastically propped yourself up to greet him. You both moaned into the kiss that followed. You've tasted yourself before, but on Florian's mouth, it was different. It was perfect.

"Are you ready for me?" He asked. You weren't sure when he'd removed his pants, but you were happy about not having to wait.

"Yes," you confirmed. "Please, I need you," you confessed.

That was music to his ears. All this time as just friends. Simply because he was too afraid to go after what he wanted. Too afraid to go after who he craved day after day.

He put your leg over his shoulder and slid into you slowly. Stopping to give you a moment to adjust. You dug your nails into his ass as a silent signal to continue. It hurt, but you welcomed the dull ache he caused as he stretched you. He gradually rocked back and forth until you were able to take all of him. The low moan coming from his mouth only making you wetter.

"So wet. So tight," he sighed. His hips snapped back and forth as he began to pick up his pace.

"Come on, baby, give it to me," you urged.

You felt the rumble deep in his chest just before he pulled halfway out and slammed back into you. He did that repeatedly as you provoked him with your moans. He suddenly pulled out, you whimpered at the loss of contact. He flipped you over and quickly slammed into you again.

"My god," was all you could get out as he fucked you hard. Your titties jiggled with every pump. His left hand snaked up your body and around your throat.

"You're taking me so well," he praised. His accent growing thicker and his voice dropping an octave, "you're being such a good girl for me."

His words were awakening things in you that you didn't know existed. You were happy to be a his good girl. You wanted to be. You felt another orgasm building. Your pussy clenched around him. The sound that escaped his lips let you know that he'd felt it.

"Fuck, baby, I'm gonna cum again," you managed to say.

"Don't," he demanded, but never slowed his pace. Your pussy gripped him again, you didn't know if you'd be able to stop it. His breathing was picking up, he was close. You mewled as his grip on your throat became tighter. "This is my pussy now, do you understand?"

You were so caught up in feeling him that you didn't answer. He brought his hand down hard on your ass right before sinking his teeth into your shoulder. You screamed. A sound of fierce unsullied pleasure. "Do you understand?" He asked again as he brought his other hand around and smacked your pussy before caressing your clit.

"Yes! Yes! God, yes!" You bellowed.

"Good, girl," he celebrated, "now you can cum."

His permission was like a hair trigger for your release. His own instantaneous to yours. He pumped into you and coated your walls with his seed as the two of you rode out your orgasms together.

You collapsed on the bed and tried to catch your breath. Florian was up before you and making his way down the hall to the bathroom. You heard the water running and a short time later he came back with a bowl of hot water and a wash cloth. He cleaned you up before collecting you in his arms and heading across the hall to your bedroom.

He climbed in behind you and you snuggled into his broad chest. This felt right. This felt like it was meant to be. You felt him plant a kiss on your shoulder.

"Get some rest. We have a lot to discuss in the morning, dragă mea," he said as you dozed off into a relaxed sleep.

[finalgirlbee]

what is love

baby don’t hurt me, don’t hurt me, no more

just kidding! I finally got around to writing some nsfw art the clown x reader! 

this was actually so much fun to write and I hope y’all like it as much as I do! reader’s pronouns are never stated but they are described as having breasts and a vagina.

minors dni, sorry but this is s p i c y also im 23 and that's creepy

You cupped the demon’s painted face, white greasepaint smudging off onto your fingertips as you kissed him desperately. You inhaled his acrid breath that tasted dry as soot, pressing your body into his as if you were afraid that he would fade from this physical realm at any moment and leave you naked and yearning in his wake. It’s as though sometimes you couldn’t believe he was real, if you were even really seeing him, or if he was some kind of sick delusion. A shadow on your wall, a wail in the wind, a demon formed from every sin you’ve ever committed, a punishment for every wretched human deed that only you could see. 

    He kissed you sloppy, black drool pooling from his swollen bottom lip that you had caught between your teeth in a soft bite, and he soon returned the sentiment, hard enough to draw a bit of blood that he swiftly lapped up, savoring the taste and the feeling of the warm, coppery morsels cascading down his throat. One of your hands moved to caress the back of his head, smooth and soft fabric covering his skull with nothing but a little black hat placed delicately atop. Everything about him was soft and delicate, you thought, an odd juxtaposition to who he really was. Soft silk suit and gloves, sweet collar ruffles and pristinely painted white skin, smooth enough that you could barely see an open pore. He soon left your mouth, all puffy and wet and bleeding, in favor of your neck, dragging his own lips from yours down to the pulse of your jugular, leaving a trail of red. He kissed and suckled there, using his teeth to apply pressure with the gentleness of a lover, a kind of softness that you never knew something like him was capable of expressing. With one of his hands on the small of your back, the other made its way to the other side of your neck, clutching a sharp, shiny scalpel that he teased along every twitching vein and muscle. He did not press hard enough to cause any real damage, but enough to leave several small cuts that beaded with fresh blood and sent new, pulsing waves of heat to your core. You were so willing and ready for him to take you, a perfect, pliant little human that accepted their fate so easily. Perhaps this was why he kept you around, why he thought of you so much differently than every other victim that he slaughtered without a second thought. There was a warmth growing in the pit of his stomach for you. It couldn’t quite be called love, but it was a feeling sweet enough to keep him from driving the blade of the scalpel into your neck and ending you right then and there. He was a demon, a being born from hate. You wouldn’t fault him for not being capable of something as pure, and as human, as love.

    He brushed his exposed fingertips, rough and blackened with grime, over the fresh cuts on your neck, stinging from the salt and sweat on his skin. Your breath caught in your throat as he brushed a calloused thumb over a particularly deep cut, fondling the broken skin as though he wished to tease it open further, tear the skin on your tender neck open and bathe in your saccharine blood. The hand on the small of your back slid its way up in favor of cradling the back of your head that hung loose and heavy as he toyed with the slices on your neck. He held you oh so gently, soft waves of hair weaving between his fingers, and he looked into your pleading eyes so intensely that you thought you might faint. He was this awful entity that knew only greed and hate, birthed from the belly of Hell, from every wicked human atrocity committed across lifetimes. And you, oh you, led to him like a lamb to the slaughter, practically skipping to your eventual demise. His perfect, sweet little human toy who fell into his arms so easily, who made the air around him hang so thick that it curdled with fear and desire. You needed him, craved the dreadful horror that he brought into your monotonous life, and it made you feel giddy inside that of all people, he chose you to spare, to enjoy and savor and use and fuck, to feel something warm and soft and full of love and life underneath his cold, tainted hands. You were out of your mind, he thought, to allow him to put hands on you, and maybe that’s why he liked you so.

    He dragged the scalpel down your chest, stopping at the swell of your breasts, where he tossed the tool aside to have both hands free to explore every corner of your soft body. Your breasts filled his hands so perfectly, kneading them and biting at your nipples, eliciting little gasps of arousal from your parted lips. You opened your legs for him, exposing the heat of your dripping cunt to the cold nighttime air, your slick beginning to pool on the old metal examination table on which you sat. He was enamoured with you, with every curve and dip of your waist and hips, every little twitch of your brow when he found just the right place on your breasts to suckle and bite at, working violet bruises into your skin that he admired like they were the prettiest little things he’s ever seen. With a big smile, he cupped your face in his hands and placed a kiss to your forehead, absolutely smitten with you, and how beautifully you accepted him. You gave him a soft smile back, burying your face into the ruffled collar of his suit. “Art, please,” you breathed, unable to take his teasing any longer. You needed him at your core, where you were so wet, so ready for him to wreck your innocence and taint your purity with every ounce of his corrupted seed. It drove him absolutely wild to hear his name whined so desperately from your lips, your sweet little voice giving him almost as much satisfaction as the sound of a blade being driven cleanly into a still-beating heart. He wasted no time in untucking his weeping cock from his suit, slapping it against your sopping pussy before he slid himself inside with ease, bottoming out as he held you flush against his body. You took a moment to catch your breath, feeling him inside you, blissfully and indescribably full as you felt every inch of his cock nudged up against every sensitive spot within you. You wrapped your arms around his neck, planting soft kisses against his cheek, breath heavy against his ear. “Please, Art, please, make me yours. I’m yours,” you nearly begged, bucking your hips up gently to let him know that you were ready for him. He didn’t need to be convinced any longer, beginning to roll his hips in time with your own, pistoning his cock into the tight, wet heat of your greedy cunt. 

    You couldn’t hold back, screaming obscenities into the silent night air as he fucked into you, which only seemed to drive him crazier as his motions became faster and rougher, one hand gripping your ass for purchase and the other moving down to your pussy, his thumb beginning to make small circles around your clit that only served to draw you closer and closer to your eventual end. You were never truly certain that he even cared about your own pleasure, only using you as a husk to get himself off when he didn’t feel like murdering somebody, but as he drew firm circles around your swollen clit, pounding into the heat of your cunt and hitting that spot inside of you that made your toes curl and your head tip back, you knew that something inside of him must have cared enough to make sure that you were feeling just as good as he was. You opened your eyes for a moment, half-lidded and hazy, to capture his face, brows furrowed in concentration, black-painted lips hanging open in ecstasy. No matter how close you were to his face, or how silent the world around you was as if you were the only two people alive, you could never hear him make a sound. Not even a soft hint of a breath left his parted lips as he fucked you, as if somebody had ripped out his vocal chords as punishment for his horrific deeds. It only served to remind you that the man, the thing, pistoning his cock into you wasn’t entirely human, and you accepted it without a second thought, allowing him to corrupt you down to the deepest pit of your belly. His name left your mouth like a prayer, begging and wailing for him to fuck you deeper, fuck you harder, make you his, take every last shred of innocence you had left within you and turn it into vile black sin, until it all became too much to bear. Your cunt clenched hard around his cock and you came, and you cried into his silk suit because it was all too much to bear; the sensation in your stomach, in your pussy, reaching all the way to your heart and squeezing like a vice, threatening to black you out as he continued to fuck ravenously into your aching cunt. Tears streamed down your face as you hung limp in his arms like a ragdoll, just letting him use your body until he, too, seized up and poured his wicked seed into you, filling you up until it leaked out around you in thick black globs. His teeth gritted together in a snarl as he came, nostrils on his prominent nose flaring  and his dirty nails sinking into your lovely, soft flesh enough to leave angry crescent moon indents. Your pussy continued to pulse around his cock, the gentle aftershocks of your orgasm, milking every last drop of perversion from his body until he stalled his shallow thrusts into you and slowly slipped out of your throbbing cunt, clumsily tucking himself back into his suit. You noticed he didn’t wipe off any of your slick juices and the remnants of his own cum. 

    He rose to full height, no longer hunched over you on the table, and his lips slowly curled into a fiendish grin, exposing yellow teeth and rotting gums. He was obviously proud of himself, proud that he stole your innocence, your very last droplet of purity, and made you his, made you his beautiful little depraved whore. He held your thighs apart still, watching with a dramatic expression of amazement as his dark seed slowly leaked from your pussy. Your cheeks were hot with embarrassment and you felt a shiver run up your spine from both shame and the cold, dank air of the abandoned warehouse. You let your resolve be broken so easily, you thought, as the clown stood before you and reached long arms up to cup your face in his hands that had just a hint of warmth to them. He began to make a big show of silently laughing at you in your disheveled, shameful state, always taking the most pleasure from somebody else’s pain. He brought a hand down to your pussy and hooked two long fingers into you and you let out a surprised gasp, and he grinned wolfishly at you as he slid them back out, glistening with your mixed essence, and held them up to your lips. You knew what he wanted, and you were not in a state to refuse, so you obediently took his digits into your mouth. You nearly gagged from the humiliation that he seemed to take great joy out of, forcing his fingers further down your throat until you were gagging and spitting, and he swiftly removed them before you vomited. He stuck one saliva-coated finger into his mouth, savoring the taste of you, sweet and warm, on his tongue. He removed the finger from his mouth with an obscene ‘pop’ , and then as if there was a lightbulb appearing over his head, he wagged his finger at you to ‘stay right there!’ And disappeared into the other room, quickly emerging with a rather soft and cozy looking blanket. Probably stolen from a victim, you thought. He draped the blanket over you, and the stomach-lurching thoughts of the unlucky previous owner of the blanket swiftly left your foggy brain as it provided you with a pleasant warmth. He bent over to give you a peck on the cheek, and made a pillow with his hands as he pretended to fall asleep. You giggled a bit at him and his theatrics, and you attempted to make yourself as comfortable as possible on the table to have a much deserved nap. “Thank you, Art,” you sighed, your eyes slowly shutting, and you soon drifted off into a quiet slumber, Art rubbing your head and playing with your hair with gentle affection all the while. Maybe he would keep you around a little while longer, he thought, curling a strand around his finger as if deep in thought. He wasn’t ready to kill you, not yet. He needed to see just how much farther you would go for him, how much more he could break you before delivering the final blow. Just one more night, he told himself, one more night and he can break you, he can tie you up and bash your skull in with a hammer and it would be all over, all over as you would bleed out over the floor, over his hands, over his shoes, over his heart. But, would the strange, bubbling warmth in his stomach that he felt every time he looked at you ever allow him? You weren’t as disposable as the others. You were different. 

[raelelliswrites]

It didn't start with the white dot; I know that much. The problem had started long before the white dot had ever shown its stupid face. There was evidence of its presence everywhere; the sandwich bread and peanut butter on the floor, the cat in the dryer, and the ironing board on the roof. The problem was, as with many other things in life, the start of this major change was about as easy to pinpoint as a slow moving current. Jamie knows best which came up first, but I can't ask her. She doesn't answer.

"Til death do us part" is a dice roll, a gamble on which of you will die alone. It was a scary thing to think about until I met Jamie. Her clear blue eyes wrapped me in a joyful and comfortable cocoon, and from the moment I saw her I knew I’d never be the same. It sounds cheesy, but it’s true. We met in high school, my freshman, her sophomore year. "To the cutie who sits next to me in French class," she signed in my yearbook. A seed planted, rooted through subtle playfulness and teasing touches, bloomed in shy glances across the room. Her jealous girlfriend gave us reason to give each other a wide berth, but whenever we were in a room together, everyone felt a change in the wind. After college started and I showed up at her university, it wasn’t 24 hours after their breakup that we were kissing in the sprinklers of Old Main. Some judged us. We let them. Ten years later and counting, we still held each other tighter than ever and loved as hard as we could, the best we could. We raised our voices to prove a point, slow danced in our living room, laughed and cooked together, and made love. Every night, I looked into her clear blue eyes and knew I was safe. Before the white dot. Before the sudden change.

The first thing I noticed was her hand always at her neck. It didn't matter what she had been doing that day, worked or played, ran early in the morning or slept in. She was always waking up with a crick in her neck and no number of massages from yours truly could help. Jamie started out taking two pain meds daily to handle the pain, but it soon became three pills a day, then four. At least, those were the meds I saw her take. She always had her left hand on the back of her neck. It creeped into our conversations, into her laugh. She had this big beautiful belly laugh that shook the room, scared the cats, and captured me absolutely. Now her laugh stopped itself short. The left hand went up, followed by a grimace. The house remained unshaken. Jamie became quieter with the constant pain on her mind.

The next thing that came was a confusing amalgam of symptoms pulled from every which illness. Her doctors couldn't make heads or tails of it, even with her studious research and symptom tracking in her journal. Her heart rate would drop and her blood pressure would spike as she stood up, causing her to faint if she stood up too fast. Soon she holed up in one part of the house at a time, migrating like a mammal from the office to the bedroom and back again. We got her a wheelie office chair to get around the house before we realized that this wasn't going away. A proper wheelchair was too real. Jamie struggled with her new reality in a way I hadn't expected. I came home from a walk one day to find her painting peanut butter on a smattering of sandwich slices on the carpet. "I haven't vacuumed that in weeks, you know," I said. I picked up sticky bits of hairy bread and dropped them again, covering myself and the carpet with peanut butter. Jamie didn't say a word, only kept buttering more pieces of bread. Her rolling chair lay overturned next to her.

The person I had known since high school seemed to vanish before my eyes, deteriorating to a shell of a woman, usually checked out. Amid the worst of it, she didn't do her ritual "cat check" before locking our littlest one in the dryer and starting it. She didn't hear her screaming for Jamie through the door, until she was silent, overheated, overbaked. Jamie wailed her head off when she found her later, neck twisted and warm. We buried our little one in a shoebox in the backyard. I held Jamie as she cried big wailing sobs, silent tears rolling down my cheeks. We didn't sit shiva with anyone, though. The sickly smell of flowery dryer sheets and burnt hair permeated the house until Jamie and I became immune to it. House guests, we had none. Close friends and family slipped away one by one, as Jamie ignored call after call. Who would dream of entertaining in a house that smelled like burnt cat? Laundry went on the list of chores Jamie couldn't do by herself.

Jamie wasn't in her right mind, I'm telling you. But it wasn't her fault she was ill and I had to take care of her. Not only because she deserved dignity in her decline, but because I loved her with my whole heart. I still do, kitten killer or no.

That's why I was so concerned when I woke up one morning to notice Jamie was missing. Her rolling chair was next to the window that overlooked the garage, next to the sink. The broom closet was ajar, the iron cold and discarded on the floor, brooms and mops strewn on top of each other like dolls tossed aside. The ironing board was missing. The kitchen window was open. A shadow moved across the dead lawn outside as I heard clunking coming from above me. The pit of my stomach dropped.

Much of what happened next seemed to happen as if in a dream. I pulled on my white robe and headed to the open window. Trying my hardest not to look down, I climbed out of the window onto the rickety roof shingles. One foot, landed. Careful, now. The other foot landed. I shifted my weight onto my feet, only for them to skid on pebbles lining the rooftop. I gripped the window runner so tightly I could almost taste the metal. I steadied myself. My heart was racing, air caught in my throat. This time I tested my weight first, then shifted. Before I knew it, I was on the green garage roof, right below the roof of the attic. I heard a scrape, and a shuffle. Another scrape. A shuffle.

I told myself I wasn't going to look down, but in that moment I did. I looked down at the dead yellow grass littering our yard to see the shadow of a deformed mud monster pulling itself out of the bog on top of our roof. No, not out. Along. Scrape. Shuffle. The arms pulled, but the body only went sideways, raking itself across the roof little by little.

My foot slipped and I gasped, skidding across the stones and battered roof shingles. I grabbed my hands out behind me to slow myself down, hoping to create enough friction to stop. My open robe billowed out behind me like a cape as I kept sliding. I kicked my bare feet out in front of me, trying to get traction, ignoring the burning as my hands and feet ran across the sandpapery shingles.

My heels were the first to fall over the edge, red and raw from kicking. My hands didn't know how to find steady bearing but kept grabbing for it. My knees went over the edge. All I could picture was my body ketchup splatted on the ground below. I turned toward the roof, tried to claw my way back up. My hips and torso followed my feet, gravity pulling me down, down. As the top of the garage roof slipped away from my sight, I could only squeeze my eyes shut and pray. My hands heard my prayer, and though my palms and fingers were sweaty, a stuck out nail pierced my left palm and held me there, hanging from the verge.

I cried out, partially from pain, partially from shock. I was still hanging on.

Blood broke against my eardrum as my heart beat itself back to normal. Scrape. Shuffle. At first I tried pulling myself up with both hands, but the palm with the nail in it complained. I had to pull myself up using only my right arm. I scrambled to grab hold of the gutter and swing my right half back over the ledge. When I finally got myself back up, I tried to pull my left hand off of the nail. The area surrounding my wound was a little numb, but the area in question was too tender to jerk from the point. With my other hand, I peeled the shingle attached to the nail from the roof and carried it under my hand, nail and palm intact. I heard a puffing of air above me: Jamie gasping for breath. Whatever she was doing was tiring her out.

As I climbed the ashy green tiles, traveling from the garage roof to the attic roof, the extreme change in Jamie I had seen in the last month struck me. She used to be a force of nature; an engineer with a quick-witted tongue that could pierce through the steel of the most guarded of hearts. I fell in love with her more and more every day. Her beauty ran marrow deep, no more inseparable from her intelligence and empathy than the color swirls of pulled taffy. The depths of doldrums had steamrolled Jamie's bruised and bleeding heart. I had seen her at her lowest of lows, cutting wit bit into her own flesh, turned against herself without knowledge of a clear enemy. I held her when she dissociated completely, empty eyes streaming, snot dripping in long strings onto her clenched fingers. One night, I remembered as I circled the attic roof, I even talked her down from slicing rivers of blood through her forearms and wrists with a rusty razor. Those were the dark times, and they had tested us, tested Jamie in her resolve. But never, ever had I experienced anything like this.

I found a foothold in a missing roof tile about halfway up the slope of the attic roof. As I reached for the top of the roof, I bounced my leg in preparation for a full climb up. Scrape. Shuffle. I could see the top of Jamie's dark brown hair and the side of her creeping frame. She looked behind her and I waved, calling out, "Jamie! Hey!", but she wasn't looking at me. She pulled something with the arm that wasn't dragging her body along and looked to make sure she still had it. The ironing board. What does she want with the ironing board up here? I couldn't guess.

I pushed off the plaque of tile I had chosen, reached my right arm up, and jumped for the top of the roof. My hand found the curve of the dusty tiles and I used my jumping momentum to run against the slope of the roof. I scrambled to the top. I wobbled as I was about to get to the top of the roof, and instinctively reached my left hand out to balance. White hot pain flashed through me from palm to shoulder. The blood-covered nail wedged through my tendons. The metal tip poked out between my knuckles. "FUUUUCKOWWW!" I wailed, pulling my left hand back, and my face turned toward Jamie. Her form, clung to by her white nightgown, never stopped, never looked back.

The wind whistled and whipped Jamie's hair around, a welcome reprieve on a cloudless summer day. She only kept pulling herself forward, left arm carrying the ironing board. Scrape. She was almost at the ridge of the roof. Shuffle. Jamie pulled the ironing board in front of her, panted in place for a moment, then began lifting her torso up on all fours, then, onto her feet. Jamie straddled the tent of the roof. She seemed to have a moment of stability, then her hands wheeled behind her as she righted herself from falling forward. "JAMIE! Fuck!" I screamed more to myself than her, certain she would fall. Jamie didn't fall, though. She continued to push the ironing board forward, the pointed tip of it peeking over the edge. We weren't a particularly religious household. In our home, God was more of an abstract concept. To us, God was our love, our bed was our temple, our promises to each other, our prayers. I began crawling, a three legged animal holding my hurt paw to my chest, and for the second time that day, I prayed.

My heavy breathing echoed through the wind as I neared Jamie, standing at the tip of the roof, sun rays streaming through her hair and arms. As I squinted at her, I raised my bad hand to block the light. Jamie pushed the fulcrum of the ironing board out to the edge of the roof now, and began to walk along it like a plank. A sound like the wind passing through a dozen vacuums. As I peered through Jamie's wobbling legs over the rooftop to the ground, I saw a mass of people agape. Jamie took another step forward along the spine of the ironing board, balanced herself. Once she reached past the fulcrum of the board, that balance would not hold. Distance closed between Jamie and me, and I gazed up at her. How was I supposed to get her attention without causing her to fall? How would we survive this? Jamie took another step forward. A siren whooped in the distance.

I looked around, searching for anything that might help. The only thing nearby was the small round chimney top jutting out, neglected of a good cleaning for years. Think, think, think! Jamie took another step. Think! I closed my eyes and patted around my right robe pocket. Nothing there. I sat straight up and patted through my left pocket. A bulge of soft white plumped out from the pocket. Ha! I grabbed the robe tie in the pocket and unfurled it, then looped it around the chimney and watched it grow black with soot. I tied a double knot, first around the chimney, then around my closest foot. My bloody hand protested, but the hum in my ears and adrenaline in my blood quieted it. I tugged on the tie. The black chimney top wobbled, green tile dust filming the base. Jamie took another step. One more and she was going over the edge. The chimney would have to do. Red and blue reflected off one side of the black rickety cylinder. Sweat broke on my forehead, and I tried not to look down at the growing crowd, but I couldn't help myself. The group of ants cramming around our home seemed to shrink farther away as I looked. My stomach lurched; I tasted bitter bile. A megaphone wah-wahed in the far distance. I tugged at her white nightgown like a scared child. Looked up at her. No response. Jamie took a step.

The rest happened in the matter of an instant. The crowd gasped; I heard someone scream. I rushed forward; the ironing board went careening off the edge, Jamie at its helm. My right hand lurched forward and grabbed for Jamie's wrist. It reached her. Feeling her cool skin under mine, I squeezed tight and heard a pop. Gravity fought hard in the tug of war. I felt my body jerk forward, saw the sidewalk streak closer, felt the tie around my foot constrict like a boa, heard the metal of the chimney groan. "Jamie, hang on!!" I yelled, not sure if it fell on deaf ears.

Jamie looked up at me. Her eyes were vacant, big black pools of tar, lightless aside from a tiny, island of white in the middle. "Grab my hand!" I reached my stabbed hand forward, the flat head of the nail pressed against the wrist now holding Jamie's life. Pain tore through my palm, but I didn't care. As I grabbed Jamie's wrist with that hand, the nail pushed farther through the skin on the back of my hand. I cried out in pain, my grip on Jamie slipping with blood. Jamie's hanging arm swung up, her hand grabbing my left hand, the nail piercing through her palm.

Her eyes dilated inward, blue rings pushed the receding black back, until her pupils bloomed back open. Light returned to her eyes, and she screamed, loud and long. I yelled with her. The nail stitched our hands together. The blood in my foot pulsed hard, and the chimney top groaned forward, jerking us down closer to the ground. Our eyes connected. Jamie's giant wet eyes seemed to be lucid once more, and tears streamed down her face.

"I'm sorry..." she whispered. "I'm so, so sorry, Red."

"You're gonna be okay," I said, "Hang on a little longer." The chimney groaned, then jolted us down as a screw came loose, then another.

"No matter what," I said, "I love you, Jamie. So much." Salty drops landed on Jamie's palid cheeks.

"I love you back," she whispered. My eyes blurred, but I wouldn't close them. Not for a second.

A black blob moved through the crowd at high speed, stopping under Jamie and I, its maw gaping wide. We rocked forward as two more screws on the chimney came loose. Jamie's foggy face blinked under me.

"Red-" she said as the last screw gave out. We tumbled forward into the black oblivion, down, down into gravity's grasp, into the yawning mouth below.

We fell into the firefighter's trampoline and bounced once, twice. Jamie and I lay there, swaying on the black stretch and cried, our hands still stitched together by one rusty roof nail.

The first responders and I tried to convince Jamie to go to the hospital. She insisted on sleeping in our bed that night.

"One more night with you," she said, "Before all they're gonna put me through," Jamie sighed, “I’m so tired.”

I couldn't say no to those eyes, especially because I needed a cuddle something terrible after the day we'd had. Bloody bandage on my left hand, I tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear and tilted up her chin.

"Okay," I said, and kissed her.

We lay in bed, holding each other. I turned to kiss Jamie goodnight before turning off the bedside light. I looked into her eyes, now back to that sky blue, and noticed...

"What?" Jamie asked, noticing my hesitation. I blinked. Still there.

"Baby, can you see okay?" I asked her.

"My glasses are a little scratched today," she said, "but I can see fine-" She took off her glasses. Looked at them. Put them back on. Took them back off. Blinked.

"I don’t think that’s a scratch on my lenses…" Jamie said. She looked at me, her left side in my shadow. Her left eye glowed with the lamplight. The small white dot from before, no larger than the head of a pin, reflected deep inside the black well of her pupil.

"We’ll tell them when we take you to the hospital tomorrow morning," I said with a weak smile. "People treat cataracts every day." I kissed her forehead, her lavender shampoo wafting under my nose. "It's nothing compared to what we survived today, right?"

Jamie looked at me, nodded and kissed me before shifting under the blanket and rolling onto her side. I was so certain, so secure in the hope of western medicine and the name of this culprit. Had I formed my mouth around the truth of it, I may have screamed at the sound of my own voice. I may have stood staunch in denial and dismissed such a moment of prescience as pure speculation. But I have no such sensitive gifts, and no reason to suspect anything different. If I only knew time was of the essence.

When I woke up, Jamie was standing at the foot of the bed, staring at me. I shot up in bed. Her pupils, now pure white, reflected an opal shine. I was reluctant to think it, but Jamie was beautiful, even like this.

"Jamie, you're up!" I said. She seemed to recognize her name and tilted her head, but didn’t say a word.

"Okay Jamie, we need to get you to a doctor, like, now," I said. I swung out of bed and moved her toward the bedroom door. Jamie walked backward, matching my steps, but didn’t stop when I did and walked the back of her head into the corner of the door. I heard the dull thunk where skull met wood. I grimaced in empathetic pain, but Jamie didn’t seem to mind or even notice the blood. She kept walking backward through the door and down the hallway. Her eyes were glassy and her lips chapped. Dry bits of lip skin begged to be picked.

I must have been imagining things, but her skin seemed to have taken on a light gray hue, almost ashy in appearance. It was hard to tell in that dark hallway, morning sun peaking over the horizon and into our living room. I couldn't see well, but I thought I saw her lips twitch. The sides of her mouth curled upward, and a slab of drool dripped from the corner of lips. One white-blue eye shined in the dark, peaking through her mass of brown hair. My heart quickened dreadfully, confused with love and fear. Blood pulsed in my ears; crashed like ocean waves. I had a sudden vision of an antelope carcass being ripped open. I stepped back. As if in a dance, Jamie stepped forward. I sidestepped to her left, and her eyes watched me, her head on a slow swivel. I kept sidestepping, never keeping my eyes off her, never losing those eyes.

Once I got to the living room, I backed up step by step, all the way to the front door. The front door lock clicking open and Jamie swung her arms as she jumped her body around to face me. It was as though a distracted puppeteer piloted her movements. Now that I noticed it, Jamie’s arms hung too limply at her side. Her shoulders sat too unevenly on her long hourglass frame.

I grabbed the doorknob behind me, not daring to lose sight of Jamie. I had to get out. I was going to go get help, going to come back with paramedics and doctors, going to get help for my wife, my best friend. I had to leave, but I was going to come back. I turned the knob, slowly, ever so slowly, ever so quietly, then thrust the door open behind me. Jamie charged. The dull sound of her feet pounded the floor as she ran straight at me. The dreadful leap in my chest again, followed by its sinking into my gut like a stone, rippled nausea up my throat. I turned. I sprang. I ran.

Loping across the grassy yard, I had an urge to look behind me. My bare toe caught the edge of a rock. I fell, arms in front of me, and heard a loud crack. Something had broken, but I only cowered, eyes closed, not wishing to see what my possessed lover had in store for me. I listened to her heavy bounding draw closer and closer. My breath caught in my chest. It was another minute before I let myself exhale. The sound was heading away from me, to the car filled street in front of our home. I opened my eyes. She was racing straight into the busy street.

"Jamie!" I called after her, voice cracking. I crawled to my muddy knees. My face contorted at the crack of pain that shot from my bloody bandaged hand, but I couldn’t stop. I raced to the street. "Jamie! Stop!" A car horn blared as Jamie ran across the first lane of traffic. Tires squealed as the first car stopped before it reached her. It was the car in the second lane that sent her body flying to the pavement. It was still honking over and over even after it had screeched to a stop.

"JAMIE! Holy shit, no no no no..." I ran harder. She had to be okay. She couldn’t be dead, it wasn’t her time yet. We had so many good years left, years with more slow dances in the living room and cuddles in front of the fire, more arguments and apologies and birthdays. Jamie’s body lie in the street, a marionette with her strings cut, limbs splayed. I didn’t notice the pool of blood mixing with the mud on my knees as I kneeled over her fractured frame, watching for any movement of her chest. I stuck my hand out to find her neck slick and warm with blood. I traced her neck as I had so many times before. No pulse. I looked for her face under the wet tangles where her head must have been and moved her hair away from her face.

Her eyes lay open, white bloomed outward from her pupils, robbing me of one last gaze into her once cool blue irises. I tried not to notice how her skull dented inward, a cracked egg on a hot pavement, deflated eyeball leaking out of its socket. I brought my ear down to her chest and lay still, tuning out the small crowd that was now forming. No heartbeat. No breath. I held my own. Now, wait. I heard a rustling sound. At first I couldn’t tell where it came from, but then it got louder. The sound was unmistakable. It was coming from Jamie’s rib cage. The skritch scratching grew louder and louder. I sat upright, staring. That’s when I saw it.

Little white dots, like the ones I first spotted in Jamie’s eyes, began floating out of the crevices of her skull. First a few, then more, floated through the air in a choreographed flight, like dandelion seeds spread to the wind. Jamie’s arm twitched. It was all I could do not to scream. Cracked backward like a broken wishbone, her arm used what muscle it could to push her torso backward. She untwisted her spine. The other arm came to life and propped her up to sitting. More white specks leaked out of the gashes on her head. I could now see the pink and bloodied crater through her scalp where her brain kissed the concrete. Jamie, or what remained of her, placed one gliding bone joint on top of another and stood. Exposed ligaments and tarred hanging flesh dared anyone watching to disbelieve. The body took a step. And another. Haltingly, jerkily, until the body walked Jamie to the car that hit her. The driver stared in bewilderment as she lumbered up the hood of their car to the roof.

There, Jamie stood in the golden morning light. The sun reflected her eyes, the wind played with wisps of her hair. The spores streamed like milk out of cracks in her skull and soon poured out of her eyes, nostrils, ears and mouth. Jamie stood agape, her arms hung off her shoulders. As spores surrounded us and the nearby cars and bystanders, I couldn’t help but notice how beautiful Jamie was, even like this.

My heart leaped, dreadfully.

[sasuhinasno1fan]

The deer of the forest- Luktober Day 10

Oh look, another prompt from @write-it-motherfuckers, not that I’m really complaining. They’re prompts are good and there are others of there’s I hope to use one day. I didn’t have a solid idea, but then I found this prompt and I had to. I also tried my hand at second person point of view I think it’s called? The point of view the prompts are usually in, I would usually change the pronouns, fix the tense, but to challenge myself, I left Luka’s point of view as that and had Adrien’s in my usual third person. I hope it sounds ok and you like it. I mean, I wouldn’t be that surprised if this actually happens to Luka. He probably attracts all sorts of mythical creatures. Deer 

You found a stag a few weeks ago, on the edge of the forest that surrounded your home. It was in bad shape, its body covered in grime, and a number of wounds visible. It was a strange looking thing, bigger than any stag you had ever seen, antlers badly broken, and eyes a strange silvery colour all over. At first you had thought maybe it was blind, but it seemed to see perfectly despite its strange eyes. 

It took a lot of effort, but eventually you managed to get the poor animal inside your garage, as it was too big to take anywhere else. Luckily the thing remained lethargic and peaceful, mostly allowing you to manhandle it as you pleased. Part of you couldn’t help but wonder how it had even survived here so long. The forest was dying, the trees and plants rotting, the animals sick, and the water poisoned. It was a hard living out here, and the only reason you survived yourself, was because you had other resources, unlike the animals of this area. Despite the fact that most of the people who had been causing this place to die, had left almost a year ago, the damage was too great.

Though you held out little hope for the animal, something urged you to try. After giving it a thorough wash, so that you could treat its wounds, you were shocked to find that it was actually a startling white, rather than the dull brownish grey, you had assumed. The stag had a lot of wounds, all that you treated to the best of your ability, the town not really having a vet, thanks to its now minuscule size, and you being unable to move an animal of this size to somewhere else. 

After weeks of careful care and love though, the stag was looking a lot healthier and livelier. The creature even seemed to trust you. To your surprise, its antlers were regrowing at an astonishing rate, its wounds healing quickly too. The antlers themselves were bizarre, massive and pointed, they looked like the cluttered branches of a tree. There were even small random nubs on the antlers, that kind of reminded you of flower buds. You had never seen anything like it, but somehow it seemed to fit the unusual creature perfectly. 

While cutting up some food for the stag, you pause, peering out the window. You can’t help but wonder, at what point the forest started to regain life. You had been so focused with your strange new charge, that you hadn’t even noticed the way the forest and its creatures seemed to perk up a little bit every day. Even the waters were clearing, as the days went by.

You’re so focused on the scene outside the window, you don’t hear the sound of hooves against the tile floor. You do feel the unwelcome nose pushing itself under your jacket and between your legs. You let out a surprised yelp, the apple and knife in your hand dropping into the sink as you push the nose away. It’s the first time you’ve seen the stag anywhere but the garage. It was starting to try and stand up, but you’d never seen it walk much, no doubt still weak from its injuries. But this white stag seems to love nothing but to surprise you so you wonder how you’re even confused at what you’re seeing at this point.

You scratch underneath its chin, its head leaning into your palm like a cat getting attention. The nubs on its antlers have grown bigger and a part of you thinks of the forest spirit from pictures, with ivy and flowers growing from its antlers. But you know those are the things of fairy tales. You’re broken out of your thoughts by the stag starting to chew on the sleeve of your jacket.

“Alright, alright. If you didn’t get so impatient, I’d be done by now.” You quickly finish cutting the apple. You know that the stag would have no trouble biting through seeds but you’ve been spoiling your little charge and you can’t help it. You moved into the French countryside when the city you grew up in became so overcrowded with noise you couldn’t stand. You came to this family cottage, the only thing left of your father not counting his eye colour, hoping to find peace, but you wondered how long it would last because of state of the nature around you. so many others were gone and you didn’t think the sudden peak in change would change that. You didn’t mind being alone but you also wanted company. Maybe that’s why you spoiled the stag, it was the only company you had so far.

You hand feed the stag, watching the sliced disappear into its mouth and still come begging for more attention. You let it lick your hand clean, using the other to pet it between the ears, selfishly hoping for a moment that it won’t want to leave. You know you shouldn’t. it’s a wild animal who even though it easily accepted help, probably had a home in the healing forest. You couldn’t keep it chained here just to keep yourself from feeling lonely. A bitter pill to swallow, yes, but a necessary one.

                                           ____________________

His father was wrong it seemed. He told Adrien that humans cared only for themselves, that they only destroyed and never cared for what they left behind. For a while he did believe it. The area that belonged to him, the one he protected was being treated horribly. Turning into a white stag caused hunters to come after him and scientist wanted to study his horns. Their case after him started to affect his domain. For every bad thing they did to him, it affected the forest life around it. Before he knew it, he ran them out of town, but they left destruction behind them.

he was so close to dying, thinking his father was right, but then a human helped him. Dark hair, with shades of light blue in it, odd little pricks of metal in his face and ears, his nails dark like some of the tar left on the trees. He thought he was a creature, but he smelt human. He cooed over him, asking out loud what had happened to him. He brought him to his home, even if Adrien’s size didn’t make it easy. The human washed him down, fed him, treated his wounds. He cared for him and in return, unknowingly helped the forest area around him. He’d been feeling up to walking today, a big leap in how he was feeling earlier and went looking for the human, surprising him when he stuck his nose between his legs. He’d seen mothers doing it to their young when helping them to stand, he didn’t know why he reacted like that. But he scratched under his chin and he felt himself melt. He was like a wildcat despite usually changing into a deer and eating the apples out of the painted nails hand was nice too.

He wanted to change back into his normal form, but he knew that wouldn’t be for a while. The forest was healing, but it still needed more time before his powers would allow him to change back. It was fine though; he liked this time with his human. His…Luka. He could only assume that was his name. he heard him once answer with ‘Luka here’ on those odd-looking objects that some humans seemed glued too.

He was resting now in his usual place, warm in his round and soft bed, an equally soft blanket over him. Luka had gone into town and the house was quiet, only the sounds of the recovering area singing to him.

“There you are!” he looked to see a large black cat; his green eyes narrowed at him. Only a moment later was a dark-skinned man, black hair as long and wild as the fur on the cat that once stood there. “Do you have any idea how long I’ve been looking for you? I knew you weren’t dead because the forest still had some life to it, but we couldn’t find you anywhere.”

“They came after me in this form. I had to keep them away from you and try to escape. They didn’t make it easy.” He said, this thought easily going to the man in front of him.

He kneeled and looked at Adrien’s antlers, the buds growing. “When do you think they’ll bloom?”

“Not all of them will. There’s still much healing to be done. But I’m recovering, so that means something.”

“A human is taking care of you?”

“Yes. It seems father was wrong about all humans. Or at least, this one.”

The man scoffed. “Wouldn’t be the first time.”

“Plagg.” he scolded lightly. He couldn’t blame his closest friend. He came to this forest and bonded himself to it because trying to live in the forest he grew up in felt like trying to bring life back to the areas full of steel and metal and loud noise. “I’m getting better. I know I’ll eventually be better to leave, but…I want to thank him first.”

Plagg raised an eyebrow. “You seemed to be attached.”

“What do you mean?”

“Nothing. Whatever. I’ll be nearby. Once you feel able to come back, just call for me. Adrien, I am really glad you’re ok.”

“Me too. And we have him to thank for that.”

                                               ________________

You noticed a black cat leaving your garage as you come home from sending things at the post office. It’s easy to work from home, though most emails have to be sent from town rather than your own home because of the weak signal. You see the stag, still sitting in its bed, its head turned to you as you walk inside. It didn’t seem bothered so you guessed a cat felt curious and came to look. It also fills you with hope. The stag was the only animal you’d seen since you arrived. If others were coming out, that plus the slowly recovering area meant to things were finally fixing themselves.

As the days went on, the stag continued to walk, getting better and stronger. Its wounds were gone and its fur was starting to glow. It still begged for attention like a spoiled pet and since it could now follow you into the house, its pleas became constant.

The dreams that started confused you. you’d be walking thorough a forest, one out of a fairy tale, or maybe what the one outside the cottage used to look like. Standing under a drooping tree would be your stag, white fur gleaming, its eyes a bright icy blue, the antlers bursting with flowers. Mostly white ones, but dotted with pale pastels. And then in its place, would be a boy. No, not boy, he looked to be the same age as you, but he seemed so innocent and delicate. He looked different than the stag, his hair like spun gold and his green eyes shinning in the sun. even if he didn’t have the same flower dotted antlers upon his head, you still know that the person is your stag. You could see it in the kind eyes and gentle smile. Before you could ask his name or anything, you’d wake up, visions of what he looked like escaping your memory.

You’d watch the stage explore the garden, not chewing on the newly grown grass, but nudging at it, like it was trying to encourage it. Your favourite movie is Princess Mononoke, a story about a human raised by wolves wanting to protect her home and a cursed prince who honoured the gods and tried to help protect them. you look at the odd nubs on the antlers, that seem to be becoming a different colour, like flowers ready to bloom and you wonder if you helped a forest god. Then the stag comes, tugging at your jacket, like it does when it wants something, its eyes trained on the handful of nuts you’ve been eating. It seems so unlikely, but you’ve been known to attract some odd things before.

[yandere-society]

Can i request any member of your choice being paranoid of their SO cheating on them. Whether the SO is actually cheating or not depends on you

Never Let Me Go

Admin: kimseokmomjins

Word count: 2k

Warnings: sexual dysphoria, cheating, lots of angst 

“You should be kissed and often, and by someone who knows how.”― Margaret Mitchell, Gone with the Wind

•·················•·················•

Monday was your favorite day of the week.

While most of society often looked forward to Fridays, you looked forward to Monday mornings: when Hoseok’s duties as rapper J-Hope mandated that he show up at BigHit promptly at 6am. Mondays meant you could finally breathe. Mondays meant that you wouldn’t see Hoseok until late Friday evening, or possibly even Saturday morning, granting you enough time to be yourself— to be your own person. Free from the burden of a relationship, free from overbearing tendencies that drove you insane, free from the lingering touches that made your skin crawl.

It wasn’t always like this, your relationship with Hoseok. You’d begun dating during your final year of high school, when his career as an idol had just begun to kick off. Soon, Bangtan Sonyeondan had become a household name, and the subsequent fame and fortune meant Hoseok was quickly able to pay off all his debts and then some. The two of you had been a couple for a little over two years at that point, and it was then that Hoseok offered to support you financially, stating that any fan could find out where you worked and harass you. His worries were valid, as his parents home was constantly swarmed with teenage fans, so you graciously accepted Hoseok’s kind offer.

But the underneath the generosity and kind-heartedness that initially appealed to you, a toxic possessiveness soon began to rear its ugly head. Not long after moving into the joint condo in the heart of Seoul, Hoseok began to dictate who you could and couldn’t interact with. Each time that you proposed hanging out with someone, Hoseok was quick to plant seeds of distrust within yourself. He argued that any new friends you made only wanted to use you for fame and fortune, or that a crazy sasaeng could try to kidnap you for ransom. Hoseok’s excuses, while initially sensible, soon became more outrageous.

Pretty soon, Hoseok wouldn’t even “allow” you to interact with any members of Bangtan, alleging that the younger members often made sexual remarks about you and that he’d worry that your loyalty would stray. At first, it upset you that Hoseok even considered that fact that you would cheat on him, but soon you found yourself loving him less and less. He was no longer your hope, your sunshine, your fun-loving Hobi. He was domineering and overbearing, both financially and emotionally.

While each passing day seemed banaler than the last, to you, Mondays were the brightest days of the week. Mondays meant that you could see her.

Much like her brother, she was an icon to many. She had the same hardworking tendencies, having created a successful clothing line from a young age. The charisma she possessed was similar as well, but unlike her brother, she was not the sun— she was the moon. Gentle and tender, like the sweet scent of camellias. She was patient, understanding, and sincerely cared for you as a Friend. A Friend, with a capital F, because that’s all she would ever see you as. You were her younger brother’s girlfriend of course. There were lines that could never be crossed.

And yet, here you found yourself: your lips slanted against Dawon’s as she cradled your cheeks as if she held the world in the palm of her hands. While Hoseok’s lips were soft and tasted like his cherry lip tint, Dawon’s were slightly chapped. But they felt— tasted— so real, so natural and gritty.  Like she was the oasis that sated your unquenchable thirst. That touchable boundary existed no longer; the taboo had been committed, and yet it felt so right.

After her braces accidentally nicked your lower lip, the two of you parted, although neither of you moved to disentangle yourselves from your embrace. The two of you giggled, not out of nervousness, but sheer giddiness. Never before had something wrong felt so damn right.

“I love you,” she murmured, and it was like the world had been tipped off its axis, like color had been returned to your monochromatic life. “You know I love you, Y/N. Please run away with me.” It wasn’t a question, nor a confession— it was a promise.

You brought your cheek to Dawon’s, pulling her closer to your heart. Could she feel how fast yours was beating?

“I’m scared.”

“I know,” she replied, her fingers lacing with yours. “I am too. But I’ll make you happy. We can be ourselves, free from judgment.” Dawon’s thumb rubbed soothing circles across yours, the intimacy comforting you instantly. You exhaled, “Ya-Yeah, let’s do it.”

Dawon grinned, her eyes cresting into two half-moons. “Meet me Sunday at 11pm outside of Seoul Station. Don’t worry about Hoseok, my brother should have afterparty interviews and a group Vlive, so you’ll be able to sneak away, okay?” You nodded before bringing your lips to hers once again, relishing in the tingling of each kiss.

You wished this moment— this regular, ordinary Monday— would never end.

•·················•·················•

It was Sunday evening. But this Sunday was unlike any other: it was the final day of the MAMAs, and Hoseok was emceeing. You reminded yourself that could do this— if you could last through the rest of the evening then you could finally be yourself with the person you loved. As for right now, all you needed to do was smile and look pretty.

You watched Hoseok’s muscles ripple as he put on his dress shirt, the crisp, white linen in stark contrast with his olive skin. The starched collar reminded you of a time when you couldn’t keep your hands off of Hoseok, and his shirt collars were constantly stained with lipstick. But now, they remained spotless.

“You know it’s funny,” Hoseok said, chuckling mirthlessly, eyes locked on his reflection in the vanity mirror. “It’s absolutely hilarious how you think I don’t notice.” You pulled your focus away from your hands and met his gaze through the mirror, feigning innocence, “What’s funny?”

“You think that I don’t know you’re cheating on me.”

It wasn’t an accusation, but a declaration. Jung Hoseok was no fool, he could tell just by the lackluster way you’d responded to his text messages, avoiding eye-contact, and your general skittish demeanor that you were harboring a secret. The final nail in the coffin was the packed duffle bag he found stashed under the bed. He had to give you props— you were gutsy to defy the man who had given you everything you could ever want or need.

Your breath hitched, “H-Hobi, why would you…” The sentence couldn’t even be finished, because you had no excuse, no defense. He had caught you red-handed.

Hoseok studied your conflicted state, his smugness mocking you in the form of a smirk. “Got anything to say for yourself, Y/N?” You dropped your eyes in shame, words seemingly escaping you. Hoseok straightened his back as he fastened his bowtie, examining himself with an intensity that had you nearly cowering in fear. “Well?” He turned towards you, and the coolness his demeanor radiated caused you to flinch. “I’m- I’m sorry, Hoseok.” He made a noise halfway between a scoff and a laugh, “I’m sure you are.”

“I mean it,” you continued, hot, fat tears streaming down your face, ruining your makeup. “I couldn’t stop it.” Hoseok cooed at your distraught appearance, swiping his knuckles across your cheekbones, effectively catching your mascara-stained tears in the process. “Don’t cry, sweetheart. I know you didn’t mean to.” Once your cries had subsided into faint hiccups, he pulled away, straightening the lapels of his suit jacket before smiling his brilliant toothy smile— the same smile that you loved so much on Dawon.

“Well, how about we put this all behind us, okay babe? Let’s not let this sour such an important evening.” The subtle implication of his words completely evaded you, assuming he was taking his debut as an emcee. Hoseok simply offered you his arm, which you accepted reluctantly, unaware of the velveteen box stashed inside his pants pocket. The shackle that would keep you bound to him as a prisoner.

•·················•·················•

A sea of bright lights surrounded the stage as all the participating idols gathered together for the closing ceremony of the awards show. Hoseok and his co-host stood before the crowd, wishing the audience a happy New Year.

“Ah, there’s one more announcement I’d like to make,” Hoseok said, bowing politely at a nearby camera. The lights on the stage dimmed, with only a sole spotlight illuminating Hoseok. He scanned the audience, focusing his attention in your general direction, as your private table was far from the stage. Hoseok cleared his throat, “Y/N, the beautiful, sweet, love of my life.” His words triggered a cacophony of ‘aww’ from the audience, with a few idols on stage playfully clutching their hearts in mock pain.

“I’m so happy to have found such a wonderful woman to stand by my side for the last five years. You’ve been nothing but supportive and loyal through it all.” Despite Hoseok’s words sounding romantic superficially, to you, they carried a heavy insinuation. “I couldn’t think of a better woman to spend the rest of my life with,” he continued as he crouched down on one knee. “I want everyone to know how much you mean to me, so will you do me the honor of being my wife?”

Suddenly, a blinding light burned your retinas as countless sets of eyes stared at you expectantly. Dozens of cameras from different television companies and streaming services focused on you, televising Hoseok’s proposal to nearly all of Korea. Millions were watching in rapt attention as they awaited your decision— a decision that had already been decided for you the moment Hoseok got down on one knee. There was no chance of you rejecting such a public proposal, not after he had poured his heart and soul into such a passionate display of affection. No, Hoseok knew you wouldn’t dare reject a proposal from Korea’s Sunshine J-Hope. Not only would fans be furious at you, but BTS’s reputation would suffer as well. You both knew the only proper response was a yes.

You should be happy: you were experiencing what any ARMY could ever hope and dream of. But instead of happiness, you only felt dread weighing in your gut like lead. You didn’t want a life with Hoseok, not anymore. You wanted lazy Sundays in bed with Dawon, you wanted to run your fingers through her hair as you wove it into plaits. You wanted normalcy, you wanted love.

But you were a coward; so you tearfully accepted Hoseok’s proposal as you silently bid goodbye to love you so desperately craved. As you walked down the aisle towards the stage, you fruitlessly tried to quell the thunderous beating of your heart. All you could think about was Dawon and how you had promised to meet her. Where was she? Was she at home, packing her stuff? Or was she already at the station waiting for you to arrive? Maybe she was eating ramen at her favorite late-night restaurant, and maybe— just maybe— she picked up a to-go container of your favorite as well.

Either way, you knew Dawon would be incredibly hurt. And it was all your fault.

You reached the stage, Hoseok pulling you into a tight embrace before twirling you around wildly. His group mates tearfully watched on as he slid the engagement ring onto your finger, proud that their brother had matured enough to ask for your hand. Hoseok leaned in, lips brushing against the shell of your ear. “I hope those are tears of happiness babe,” he whispered before planting a kiss on the apple of your cheek. You looked down at your ringed hand in embarrassment— or maybe it was self-loathing— and gazed at the spaces in between your fingers.

You wished you had never let her go.

•·················•·················•

And somewhere in Seoul, sat Jung Dawon, alone in a train station. Her tears dotted the phone screen, the live stream confirming the MAMA attendees were celebrating your engagement with pomp and circumstance. Dawon looked at the spaces between her fingers, remembering the ghost of your hand as it rested in hers. She waved the memory away as she tucked her head in her hands and cried. She cried for herself, she cried for you, but most importantly, she cried because she wished she had never let you go.

((A/N: Happy pride month everyone! I know this may not have been exactly what was requested, but I wanted to take some artistic liberties and represent bisexual/queer women in fanfiction, because I feel like they’re often misrepresented. Have a lovely June, everyone!))

[coldinthestudio]

How did you become such a good writer? I hear a lot about writing workshops, but I was wondering if you had any experience that might have encouraged your writing to be so good?

Awww! That’s so sweet of you! Hahah thanks for the compliment :)  Ummm, to be perfectly honest?? This isn’t very helpful for people just starting out with writing, but I’ve been writing since I was legit like 3 years old. I’ve been writing almost as long as I’ve been talking - I even have a bone in my middle finger that formed wrong in it’s developmental stages because that’s where I hold a pen or pencil, and I wrote so much as a kid that the bone became deformed. This is gross, but here’s a picture haha: 

Ok that literally just looks like I’m flipping off the camera, but that knob at the tip is where my bone got all fucked up because of how long I’ve been writing haha. Ignore my nasty nail beds.  So I guess to answer your question, I’ve never really done anything like classes or practice to improve my writing - it’s something that just kind of flows with me. I’ve been doing it as long as I can remember.  I can list out some advice that might be helpful to people just starting out? These are some rules I live by:   1) READ READ READ - I never realized how much reading helps my writing until I binge read like 800 fanfics in one year and my writing improved exponentially. So seriously, READ.  2) When you’re writing, never go for the obvious. Don’t just say someone is angry, say something like...”their eyes are flashing with carefully concealed torrents of fury”...or something. That sounds sooo cheesy when I write it out like that, but literally, SHOW, don’t tell. It’s not just raining outside - “the skies have finally cracked and dirty rivulets of rainwater are carrying discarded cigarette butts along the city gutters like ships run aground”. Metaphors and similes are your BEST FRIEND in writing. You can play with them soooo much - just be careful not to go overboard. It’s okay to just say someone is angry or that it’s just raining, but if you want to hold a reader’s attention, mix it up and don’t write something bland like, “Tom woke up. It was raining outside. He was angry, because his alarm didn’t go off. He got out of bed and stomped to the shower...” etc. Know what I mean? You’re an artist painting a picture with words. You’re not giving a lecture, you’re creating art. Make it pretty! #metaphors  <- Trend that shit.  3) When you’re writing a scene, don’t just write it, SEE it. See it in your head. People don’t just sit stiffly and talk like robots when they’re having a conversation. People DO things - people fidget. “Sally ponders what Phil said, chewing on the inside of her cheek mindlessly and brushing a stray hair back from her face. She feels a swell of uncertainty grow in her chest like a flower that only blooms at night, under the mask of the moon.”  Oh my GOD everything I write here sounds so cheesy - but does that make sense? You really have to SEE it in your head when you’re writing. Like you’re watching a movie in your own brain. And then translate everything you’re seeing to paper. Not just the surface things like dialogue - when people are talking, there’s a fly on the wall. A clock is ticking, there’s a train horn in the distance, the wind picks up outside, someone crosses their arms to hide what they’re thinking, the oven dings in the next room, someone shakes their head and bites their thumbnail, someone notices the wallpaper is peeling in the corner and goes to pick at it, etc etc etc. You have a whole setting to play with, you just have to close your eyes and see it.  4)  And when you’re actually writing a story, you have the advantage of planting little seeds of internal emotions going on in your characters. In movies, it’s hard to really get a good internal monologue from the characters. But in writing, you can dig as deep as you want into your character’s brains. And that’s REALLY fun, so play with it. Characterization is soooo important. Plot is important too, but who gives a fuck about a plot if a reader doesn’t really care what happens to the characters living the plot? I spend a lot of time on characterization - I’m especially fond of giving characters tragic backstories :P It makes them so interesting to write, I feel like a puppeteer. And you can reveal their backstories any way you wish, whether it be flashbacks, PTSD, looking through old photos, etc. Even through a conversation with another character. They’re literally Playdoh, mold them however you want, that’s the best part.  5)   Foreshadowing is your friend too. I make sure I have stories outlined before I start writing them. That doesn’t mean you have to outline it to a T - it just means you have a basic idea of beginning, middle, and end. You know how the story is going to end and all the little secrets you plan to reveal in between. That’s not to say that some of the magic doesn’t happen WHILE you’re writing (for example, in Hautley’s Bend, the squash lady was completely unplanned - she just happened unexpectedly while I was writing). But it’s fun to drop little cliffhangers, and foreshadowing in stories. It keeps people engaged. And if you have a basic idea of how your story is going to go (I call it the “skeleton” of the story, and while you’re writing, you add on all the meat) it prevents continuity errors too, which is important.  I think that’s all I can manage to pull out of my ass right now - hopefully some of that is helpful! Sorry I kind of rambled haha.  But I guess most importantly, write for YOU. Yes, it’s good to have a basic audience type in mind (ie: who you think will read your story), but ultimately, the story is coming from you, and you’re allowed to make it go in any direction you want, regardless of who you piss off or offend or whatever. Don’t look at writing your story as a chore - I spend a lot of time daydreaming about stories in my head, to the point where characters and scenes feel REAL to me (call me crazy, idk haha). When I’m driving to work, I listen to music and find songs that fit certain scenes in my stories, or songs that would go well with a certain character. You just have to find inspiration everywhere, and really immerse yourself in what you’re writing. I spend more time just daydreaming about my stories than I do actually writing them (which I wouldn’t advise because, ya know, I never get any writing done lol). But you get the point.  Okay I’ll shut up now. If you want any more advice or anything, feel free to message me :) I don’t know if any of the above is helpful, but I tried haha. 

[shealwaysreads]

A Study In Contrasts

^ Photo by

Annie Spratt

on

Unsplash

This fic is absolutely inspired by the wonderful @drarryruinedme7 and her Theo headcanons and love for the Neville x Theo ship (theoville? neveo?) and @bblgumbby was my fantastic beta and cheerleader.

This post provided the impetus for the story, and made me cackle so check it out.

Motivation to write (as in, a fire lit under my arse with the deadline for today) provided by the amazing @growing-neville fest and the drarry discord squad - who all love their rarepairs too!

Also, here are my face-casts for this fic- Neville & Theo 👌

Neville/Theo | Mature | 3659 words | Friends to Lovers, Frottage, Hot!Neville, Bearded Manbun! Neville

Can also be read on Ao3

Neville had been worried at first when Theo Nott had been hired to work with him. Theo didn’t have anything to do with growing the plants, that was very much Neville’s domain, but he took care of harvesting seeds and fruit, or taking cuttings of leaves and preparing them to be sent out to apothecaries and potions masters across Europe. He was apparently fully qualified for the job, but Neville couldn’t help but be protective his plants, and a little scared that he and Theo wouldn’t get on.

It wasn’t as though Neville had never spent time with the man, the War was a long time past, and when Harry had started dating Draco the old Hogwarts Houses had taken to mixing pretty thoroughly - both socially and romatically. On their monthly pub nights at the Three Broomsticks it wasn’t unusual for a whole host of old school alumni to show up - from all four Houses.

Theo had been coming to these informal little events since Draco had moved in with Harry. Neville had witnessed Draco wine drunk and ranting about how he wanted his friends to be a part of things too, and from then on his old Slytherin cronies were a regular part of the evening. It took a little while for everyone to become comfortable with each other, but they had all persevered. Copious rounds of drinks had certainly helped.

Neville wasn’t a shy person, per say, but he preferred a quiet dinner or drinks with his friends rather than big group events. So at first he had bristled at the inclusion of new people, people he wasn’t sure of, people he didn’t know well. But he was a grown up now, and politeness smoothed the way, then alcohol eased it even further. He could happily sing ribald drinking songs with Pansy perched on his knee now, and regularly thrashed Blaise at darts.

Theo had always seemed to keep his distance from Neville though, and at first he thought it might be some kind of hangover from Nott senior’s awful beliefs. But Luna of all people became fast friends with Theo, and reassured Neville that his idea couldn’t be further from the truth.

“Oh Neville, you’re so funny! You’re just like Harry when he used to think Draco was just like his father too, aren’t you?” Luna’s smiling face sobered. “No. Theodore is quite a gentle soul. We were the same age when our mothers died you know. He could see the Thestrals too, though he didn’t visit them like I did.”

A gentle pat on his cheek and she swirled away in a haze of white-blonde hair and tinkling bells stitched along her scarves. Neville had put that thought to bed there and then. Luna was about as good a judge of character as anyone he had ever met, and he trusted her. If she was happy to embrace Theo as a friend, then Neville was at least able to accept him as part of the group.

From that point on, Neville made a point of saying hello to Theo when they all met up, of being friendly and smiling. Neville was acutely aware of the way he looked now even though he still had days where he felt like the bumbling, chubby boy he was at school. But he was tall now, and broad; his long hair and growing beard he got teased by his friends a lot for looking intimidating. He didn’t think Theo was the sort of person who would be impressed by his fame, and he definitely wasn’t holding on to old school house rivalries, so maybe it was just the way Neville looked that put him off. Theo was at least a foot shorter than Neville, maybe he felt crowded around his bulk.

So Neville had worried at first, when he found out Theo would be working with him so closely. His work at the vast greenhouses was more than a job, it was his passion, and he didn’t want that ruined by a chilly relationship with his colleague. But he needn’t have spent so much time being anxious. Theo had smiled and shook his hand warmly on his first day in post, and seemed to be so much more comfortable talking with Neville here than in the social environment of the pub.

They had quickly developed a rapport and Neville was constantly impressed with Theo’s knowledge of the plants they worked with. He hadn’t damaged so much as a single leaf in his daily rounds gathering his harvest for their outgoing orders and he actually asked Neville intriguing questions about the growing specifications for his favourite plants.

He had even singled out Neville’s own Mimbulus Mimbletonia as the most interesting plant in Greenhouse 1, and asked all about how to safely harvest its Stinksap. Neville had been waiting for someone to be interested in that plant since his fifteenth birthday, he didn’t quite know what to do with himself, and found himself flustered for the rest of that day.

All of that left Neville with the dawning realisation that he hadn’t been worried about the right thing at all. Instead of being so preoccupied with maybe not enjoying work now that Theo was there, he should have been thinking about the fact that he might like Theo being there a little too much.

On top of a quietly dry sense of humour which got even Hermione cackling on pub nights, Theo was capable, interesting, and he liked Herbology almost as much as Neville did. He was also totally, absolutely, and devastatingly Neville’s type.

Neville had finished for the day, and as he rushed into the staff room ahead of Theo he couldn’t help but think about the other man. Couldn’t help but indulge in his crush.

Theo had artfully tousled dark hair which just begged to have fingers run through it, and eyes as dark as the loamy soil Neville worked with every day. He was fair, with dark freckles across the bridge of his nose; Neville couldn’t help but think about the contrast between them, his tanned skin against Theo’s milk pale complexion.

Neville’s thoughts quickly slid into territory he knew he shouldn’t indulge in while still at work, not with Theo heading into the tea room for their end of day catch-up. He couldn’t be daydreaming about all the ways he’d like to test and compare those contrasts for himself, couldn’t imagine exactly how it would feel to run his hands over lithe muscles -  not when he still blushed as much as he had when he was a teenager. Even if the beard would cover some of it up.

He distracted himself with washing his hands and arms, scrubbing the days dirt from under his nails as he willed away mental images of pale skin on dark bed covers from his mind's eye. As he mindlessly soaped and rinsed, Theo slipped into the cosy staff room.

“Hey Nev, fancy a cuppa before we go?” Theo nodded at the kettle.

“Yeah that would be lovely Theo, thanks.”

Neville found himself smiling as he turned to watch Theo set up their usual cups for tea. It pleased him on a deep level to see that Theo know exactly how he liked his tea, knew his favourite cup. Maybe he shouldn’t be daydreaming about Theo naked while they were at work, but he could appreciate these moments of domestic camaraderie.

He dropped himself heavily onto the worn out sofa that had been probably been parked in the tea room for longer than Neville was alive, and groaned as he took the weight off his feet.

Hunching over his plants all day brought him a lot of joy, but since he’d shot past six feet tall and into the 'might have to duck to get through that door’ territory he didn’t find much joy in his back at the end of a long day. He stretched, eyes scrunched closed and his hands behind his head as he worked out all of the kinks in his spine, and was lost in the bliss of it until he heard the slosh of tea slopping over the side of a cup.

He opened his eyes to see Theo still bent over the coffee table, a small puddle of tea around each cup where it sat on the surface, and his dark gaze fixed firmly on Neville. Maybe it was just the fact that Neville had been fantasising about him earlier, but he could swear he saw a heat in those dark eyes. It was probably wishful thinking though, people like Theo didn’t go for people like Neville.

Theo sat in the chair opposite him, another ugly but comfortable relic from past staff. He settled back with his tea in one hand, and rubbed the back of his neck with the other. He almost looked nervous.

“Right. Neville. I was going to mention that I’ve just taken some seeds from the Venomous Tentacula and I think you might want to move it a bit further from the Devil’s Snare seedlings - it looks like they might get tangled together if  you don’t do that within the next week or so.”

“Oh thanks, I hadn’t realised those seedlings were coming along so fast - I’ll do that first thing in the morning. Did you get enough seeds for the—”

He trailed off as Theo held up his hand, motioning for his attention.

“Look. Um. This is a bit awkward but Luna said I should just be honest, that’s what you ex-Gryffindors appreciate apparently. But…” Theo was back to rubbing his neck again, and a blush touched his high cheekbones.

Neville wondered what on earth was making the normally unflappable Theo seem so out of his comfort zone. It couldn’t be the plants. What if Theo had noticed the way Neville had been looking at him? What if Pansy had said something? Neville might have given himself away at the last pub night, Theo had been wearing that tight fitting jumper which just made Neville want to wrap his arms around him and never let go.

“Okay I’m just going to come out with it, and you have to promise you won’t hate me. Yes?”

Neville nodded, mute with anxiety.

“First. I recognise I have got no bloody right to be making this kind of demand but I’m just kind of compromised and you have to forgive me.” He leant forward to put his tea down on the coffee table and took a deep breath, seemingly bracing himself for whatever he was about to say. “Neville, I am going to need you to stop growing your beard. Because if you get any more handsome than you already are, I’m going to end up trying to fuck you and I don’t think that is something you would appreciate.”

Having said his piece, Theo threw himself back into his armchair, covering his eyes with one hand.

Neville felt a stunned grin stealing across his own face, and realised he was already unconsciously rubbing his beard - a habit he had picked up as soon as it passed the stubble stage. He couldn’t believe that just five minutes earlier he had been so worried about daydreaming of Theo inappropriately, when apparently Theo had been just as guilty. Maybe people like Theo did go for people like him.

“Theo, I’m not going to shave my beard. I quite like it actually.”

He hauled himself out of the sofa, and moved around the table towards Theo’s chair.

“Neville, Merlin, I’m sorr—”

He cut Theo’s apology off by the simple method of moving his chair, grabbing his hand, and pulling him bodily onto his feet. Neville thrilled at the ease with which Theo followed his physical suggestions, all of the ways this apparently instinctual response could play out were whirling round his mind.

“First off Theo, I promised I wouldn’t hate you, so relax.” Neville reached out and put a hand on Theo’s shoulder, hoping the touch would calm him down. “Secondly, I’m not getting rid of the beard because yeah - I like it. But. Now I also like that you like it.” He felt his confidence ebb slightly, and shrugged bashfully as his cheeks warmed with a blush. “How will I get you to try and fuck me if I can’t lure you in with this thing?”

For one achingly eternal feeling moment, Neville is terrified that he’s gone to far. Theo’s dark eyes are wide and his mouth is open in astonishment. But then one pale hand is reaching out to him, cupping the side of his face, a thumb is rubbing against his beard and fuck it feels good when someone else did that.

Theo steps forward, intention clear in every line of his body, and suddenly Neville wants to be sure that this isn’t just a fleeting infatuation for him. They work together, they have the same friends, he needs to know what this is going to be. And he doesn’t think a simple tumble in the sack will be enough for him. He pulled the sword of Gryffindor out of the Sorting Hat, so he could take this a step further - couldn’t he?

“I’d like my beard even better if it makes you want to go for dinner with me, as well as fuck me, though?”

“Merlin, you have no idea do you?” Theo breathed as he leaned in, his eyes flicking over Neville's face as though eager to take in each detail. “I thought I was as obvious as a fifth year Hufflepuff. Neville, I’ve even got flyers for an exhibition at the muggle botanic gardens in my bag because I think you’d like their exotics.”

Neville grinned and wrapped his arms around Theo’s slim waist, drawing him against his body and reeling with how good it felt to be pressed together.

“Maybe you’re more subtle than you think, I sort of thought you might be put off by how big I’ve gotten.”

Theo just rolled his eyes and draped his arms around Neville’s neck, bringing their chests together. He was sure his heart was beating hard enough that Theo would feel it thundering against his own, but any thoughts were obliterated when Theo tilted that perfect face up and gently brought their lips together in a kiss. For all their talk of fucking, it was achingly sweet, Theo’s lips petal soft and yielding against his own.

“Nev,” a kiss at the corner of his mouth. “I think we should take this somewhere that isn’t work.” A kitten lick against his bottom lip. “Fuck - I just want to do this lying down with you.”

Neville was reeling from the simultaneous sweetness of Theo’s kisses, and the heat that roared through him at the implication of his desperate whispers. He couldn’t reach his wand fast enough, ensuring his grip on Theo was secure, before Apparating them both into his flat.

As soon as they arrived, Theo’s delicate fingers attacked Neville’s shirt buttons. He made quick work of them between hot kisses and whispered promises, and before Neville knew it his shirt slipped from his shoulders and pooled on the floor. Those pale hands were immediately on him, roaming the plains of his chest and belly, both muscled from hours of manual work.

He had been right, in his fantasies, about the contrast between his tan and Theo’s fair skin. It was delicious.

He reached out and held Theo’s face, his hands cupping that finely cut jaw, and he leant down to kiss him deeply. He licked along his plush bottom lip and like a flower, Theo opened up for him on a gentle gasp. He felt Theo bring his own hands up to grasp his wrists as he cradled his face, and groaned into the kiss.

But Theo had requested lying down, and Neville was going to give it to him. He’d give him the moon if he asked for it. He reluctantly let go of Theo’s beautiful face, and braced himself to pick him up, relieved when Theo immediately wrapped his legs around his waist and buried his face in his neck to deliver dragging sucks and kisses. Neville toed off his shoes, and Theo did the same, the thud of them hitting the floor barely audible over the rushing in his ear

For a brief moment he thought about marching up the stairs with his armful of gorgeous, brave, ex-Slytherin, but decided against it almost immediately. This was going to be fast and desperate, they both deserved to take their time with each other later. He dropped down onto his sofa instead, and thanked his lucky stars for their complementary plans when Theo rearranged himself to be able to straddle his hips and stretch bodily over him as he reclined.

He looked up at Theo, his hands massaging his thighs, and grinned.

“I feel like we’re a little mismatched in the clothing stakes, aren’t we?”

He reached up to drag the hem of Theo’s jumper away from his jeans, catching his t-shirt too, and pulled them up and over his head - leaving that dark hair messy and perfect.

“I don't think we quite compare in the abs department Nev,” Theo murmurs with a wry smile. “But you’re welcome to strip me anytime.”

Neville found his words of reassurance and denial got lodged in his throat when the view actually registered in his mind. The freckles. Theo’s freckles weren’t just across his nose. A faint dusting of freckles and beauty marks dotted his lean chest, and Neville wanted to kiss every single one of them.

“Theo…” he managed to growl out over the roaring lust in his chest. “Theo, look at you.”

He had been aroused ever since Theo uttered his confession in the staff room, and now he’s harder than ever, all of this pale skin laid out before him, Theo’s dark eyes almost eclipsed by pupil in answering heat. He gripped Theo’s thighs tighter, sliding his hands upward until his thumbs grazed the hardness pressing against his zipper.

He kept his eyes locked on Theo’s, the tension between them mounting higher with every heartbeat. Theo must have felt his erection where it pressed insistently against his gorgeous arse. He took a hand away from Theo’s crotch, and raised it, thumbing one pink nipple and gasping at the reaction it pulled from Theo.

His lithe body just rolled down against Neville, a moan breaking free from that plush mouth, and all of a sudden Neville needed him closer. He pushed his hips up against Theo’s uncontrolled grind, and moved his hands to grip at his slim hip and to simultaneously drag him down into another lush, open mouthed kiss.

He groaned as Theo’s hand moved to grip his hair, he could feel his loose bun come undone under those clever hands and the sensation of the slight tug on the strands just heightened every pleasurable current running through him. He wrapped his arms around Theo, resting one in the middle of his back, and grabbing a handful of his arse with the other. He could feel those whipcord muscles working as Theo writhed against him, rubbing their cloth covered erections together like horny teenagers.

It’s hot and dirty and everything Neville had been dreaming of since he first accepted that he fancied Theo. He rolled his hips up into Theo’s grind, bracing his heels against the sofa for leverage, and moaned at the perfect friction they were building between them.

He slipped his hand into the waistband of Theo’s jeans, under his designer pants, and let his middle finger rest just at the cleft of his arse. He didn’t move to go further, just revelled in the hint of what was to come. Heat pooled low in his belly as he thought about flipping their positions, stripping Theo till he was bare, and eating him out until his eyelashes were wet with frustrated tears.

But he could wait. Right now the whimpers and moans in his ear were intensifying, and he couldn’t keep his mouth away from Theo’s if he tried, he felt like he could kiss him for days and not get tired of it.

“Nev…ah…Merlin I’m so close.”

Just hearing Theo say those words was enough to drive Neville to the edge, both of their movements became frantic as they each chased relief. They were hardly kissing any more, just licking and sucking at each others mouths, sharing breath as they panted with exertion.

Neville came first, the telltale tightening in his balls catching him by surprise despite it all, and he held Theo crushed to him as his hips jerked through his orgasm. While the aftershocks still shot through him like lightning, Theo continued to thrust down against him, whining in frustration.

With what little brain cells were still operating, Neville once again reached his finger between Theo’s pert cheeks, and this time didn’t stop until he could stroke his fingertip against his entrance. As soon as the pad of Neville’s middle finger made contact with his hole, Theo’s whole body went tense, and then - with an aching moan -  he shuddered as his orgasm ripped through him. Neville could feel his hole clenching against his fingertip, and his spent cock twitched in interest. But he could save that for later.

For now he wrapped his arms around Theo, satisfaction and warmth filling every cell of his body with relaxed lassitude. Theo relaxed completely on top of him, and rubbed his cheek against Neville’s beard like some kind of overgrown cat. Neville managed to reach his wand where he had dropped it beside the couch and cast a gentle cleansing charm on them both, cleaning their damp underwear, before casting it aside again. He dragged the blanket from the back of his sofa over them both, and once again wrapped his arms around Theo, ready to doze and then wake up and ask him to dinner.

[my-emotional-self]

The Accident Chapter 21

Pairings: Chris Evans x OFC

Warnings:  Swearing, Fluff, Smut (Oral)

Summary: After yet another fight with your boyfriend Chris, you go for a drive and get into a terrible accident.  Upon waking up in the hospital, you find both Sebastian and Chris sitting there.  The only problem?  You have no recent memories and you think you are still dating Sebastian.

The following morning you felt refreshed, with a new found confidence lingering deep within you.  If it had not been for Dodger last night, there was a very good chance that you and Chris would have had sex, and you were damn ready for it.  

Last night before leaving Robert’s BBQ, Sebastian offered for the four of you to go out for breakfast before he and Margarita had to leave later this evening for their flight back to New York.  It was an idea you definitely didn’t want to say no to, especially getting your memories back about Margarita.  It would be good to spend the day with them and you were looking forward to it.  

Throwing your hair in a loose bun, you hopped in the shower to quickly wash down your body and shave; not wanting to deal with having to blow dry your hair this morning.  You moaned as the sweet smell of your body wash as you scrubbed away delicately at your body.  

Grabbing a towel, you wrapped it around yourself before cleaning off the foggy mirror.  You opened the door a crack to let the fog in the room diminish; the overhead fans never clearing it out fast enough for you. Your hand went to grab your green electric toothbrush right as Chris opened the door to the bathroom.  He stilled, seeing you standing there in only a towel before turning around and averting his eyes; you thought it was adorable.

“Shit Erica I’m sorry, I didn’t think…I mean I know you showered….it’s just that I thought you were dressed,” he stuttered out, his back to you.  

Trying to hold back your smile, you failed at how flustered he was.  There was no reason for him to be flustered like that because you were damn sure he had seen you naked more than enough times to count; even if you couldn’t remember it.  “Chris, turn around,” you declared, trying to keep your face neutral.  

Chris slowly turned, keeping his eyes to the floor and you burst out laughing.  His brows furrowed as his eyes glanced upwards to meet your laughing, bent over frame.  “What’s so funny?”

“You!!!  You are being hilarious right now.”  You walked towards him and cupped his face, bringing it down so you could plant a kiss to his lips.  They were soft, so dreamy and soft as you took his lower full lip between your teeth and gave it a nibble.  The kiss soon turned heated and you became aroused, very suddenly.  His kisses were intoxicating and you realized he was your drug.

Chris gripped your hips, walking you backwards as your backside hit the bathroom counter.  Your hands were wrapped in his hair, never wanting to let him go.  His hands trailed up and down your arms as you felt his growing erection against your core and on instinct, you bucked your hips into him earning a growl from Chris. You loved hearing that noise as you bucked your hips into him again.  This time, Chris grabbed your waist and hoisted you onto the counter in one swift motion.  

Your lips parted from his and you were left staring into lust filled eyes; chest heaving.  His lips were at your neck, alternating between soft kisses and sweet nibbles and your moan echoed throughout the room. Your head tilted back, hitting the mirror as a jolt of arousal came at your core when he sucked onto your sweet spot, just below your ear.  

“Fuck I want to taste all of you,” he rasped as he began to lick his way across your neck and to the other side.  At this point, you wanted him to taste you to as his now fully hard cock kept hitting your cunt, your inner monologue begging for mercy.  

With your hands at the seams of your towel, you let it fall from your chest, leaving you open and bare to him.  His eyes were nearly black now, no sight of his blue orbs as he took in your naked body. Your chest was heaving; your nipples pert and ready for him to suck on.  He gave you an apprehensive look and you nodded at him, letting him know you wanted it.  

Without any more hesitation, his lips clasped around your right nipple and you cried out in pleasure as your hands tangled into his locks.  His right hand trailed down your stomach, dipping a finger straight into your dripping pussy.  “Fuuucckkkk,” you moaned as your back arched.  He trailed wet kisses across your chest before giving your left nipple the same amount of attention; his tongue swirling around the hardened pebble before dropping on his knees in front of you.  

Spreading your legs wide for him, he delved right in as his fingers held open your slit.  His mouth was attached to your clit so fast you had no time to react.  Your hands gripped the side of the counter, holding on for dear life as Chris’ sweet assault on you took over.  You were so worked up with arousal and desire that you knew it wouldn’t be long until your release came.  His tongue swiped from your center all the way up to your nub before suckling it between his lips.  He was a fucking magician with that tongue as your breath came out in short gasps. Your legs began to tremble as you cried out, “don’t stop don’t stop right there right there!”  The coil snapped as you dissolved into pleasure; your inner walls clenching as you high took over your body.  

Chris’ hands were on your thighs, rubbing gently as you came down from your mind blowing orgasm; a sultry smirk on his face.  You let out a few short breaths before finally getting the courage to get down from the counter.  Trailing your hands down his body, they stopped on his erect cock before slinking your thumbs into the waistband of his shorts and shimmying them down his thighs.  

You didn’t give him any time to react before taking him into your mouth.  Your tongue darted around, coating him with saliva as you easily began to bob your head.  His pre-cum was salty and you moaned at the taste of him.  “Fuck baby,” Chris’ voice was husky as he held his hand out onto the counter for support.  Your right hand cupped his balls gently as your left hand was wrapped at his base. If the two of you were to get to breakfast on time, this needed to be fast.  Knowing your gag reflexes were rather non-existent, you took your hands and placed them on his tight ass and began to move them towards you; letting him know that he could set his own pace.  And that was just what he did.  Placing his free hand on the back of your head, he began to jut his hips into your mouth; your nails racking up and down his thighs.  Before long his cock started to twitch in your mouth. His hips stilled as his seed coated your throat and you swallowed around his thick length.  

Pulling away from him, you wiped your mouth with the back of your hand.  Standing up on shaky legs, you saw Chris breathing heavily with his eyes closed.  “That was fucking amazing.  I was not intending for that to happen this morning but fuck am I glad it did.”

Giving him a quick kiss to his chest, you playfully pushed him backwards.  “You’re lucky I hadn’t brushed my teeth yet.”

~~~

The fresh morning air and sun felt good on your face as the four of you sat on the patio of a quaint little bistro in downtown Los Angeles.  After your and Chris’ rather delightful morning, the two of you quickly got ready and you put on a pair of light pink skinny jeans, black tank top and black flats.  Your hair was pulled up into a tight pony to keep off your neck.  

Breakfast was delicious as you slumped back in your chair, feeling extremely full.  The boys were chatting together as you and Margarita were both stuffed to the brim and laying back in your chairs.  

“What time is your flight?” Chris asked, taking a sip of his water.  

Sebastian looked at his watch before responding.  “Not until 8p.m tonight.”

“Come on back to our place. We can play some video games.   I got the new Call of Duty on Xbox and haven’t had any time to try it out.”  You groaned in dissatisfaction as he spoke and he turned to face you.  “What was that for?” he asked with a chuckle.  

“I don’t want to sit and watch you play video games all day,” you retorted, feeling annoyed yet you knew that he wanted to spend time with his friend.  

“Let’s go shopping then!” Margarita chimed in and you perked up at her request.  

“Fuck yes!  Now THAT is what I’m talking about!” you cheered, raising your hand in the air.  Looking over at Chris, you saw him smiling at you as Sebastian whispered closely to his ear; Chris nodded at his words.  With furrowed brows, you continued to look at the two men before Chris finally spoke up.

“Alright, alright, I’ll let her know,” Chris spoke with a smile.  

“What’s going on?” You looked between the three of them, all staring and smiling at you.  

Chris grabbed your smaller hands with his larger ones, engulfing them.  He pulled them up to give a kiss to your knuckles.  “I’ve been talking with Sebastian and Margarita about what to do for your birthday….and….well….we’ve all kind of up come with the same idea.”  Chris didn’t continue and your heart began to race, wondering what they all had planned. “How about you and I go out to NYC next week for your birthday?”

Your eyes grew wide like dinner plates, your lips parting.  “Are…are you serious??”  Chris nodded, smiling brightly at you.  Jumping out of your chair and onto his lap, you clasped your hands around his neck, nuzzling your face to him as happy tears were shed from your eyes.  These were the three most important people in your life; they would do anything for you.  And here they were, planning a trip for you to go to NYC for your birthday; what you had always done for your birthday.  You were unsure if you could become any happier than in this moment right now.  

~~~

Sebastian and Chris took one care back to the house to play some video games, while you and Margarita took their rental car to get some shopping done.  Now that you knew you were going to NYC for your birthday next week, you wanted to get some new clothes!  

Parking in the lot, you and Margarita began walking up and down the sidewalk, determining what shops you guys wanted to go in.

“So, how is everything going between you and Chris?” Margarita spoke up.  You usually hesitated whenever anyone asked you that question, feeling like those people were intruding on your person life because you couldn’t remember them.  But not Margie, not your best friend.  It was like a giant weight had been lifted off your shoulder; another person to talk to, confide in.  

A smile graced your lips at her question, just thinking about what you and Chris had done earlier that morning in the bathroom.  “Good Margie, things are going really good.”

Margarita didn’t let anything go and noticed your smile along with your blush tinted cheeks. “Holy shit Erica, did you sleep with him?”

“What?  NO!,” you chimed back quickly, shaking your head. “…..not entirely.”  The two of you shared a look before bursting out laughing as she put her arm around your shoulder and hugged you from the side.  

“That’s my girl.”

The two of you spent the next few hours in and out of shops, trying on dresses, pants, shorts and shirts; taking pictures together.  It was never ending fun and you were happy to have her in your life.  

Making your way back to the car, you noticed a shop and instantly pulled Margarita inside.  Just the thought of you and Chris having sex made you want to get something extra special.  

Walking into the store, Margarita looks around, nodding her head.  “Now this is going to be fun!”

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[kanisrussell]

Salted Earth part 1

Title: Salted Earth

Word count: 2196

Relationship: F!Deputy and John Seed, Jacob Seed and F!OC

Rating: T

Summary: The collapse happens sooner than expected, and leaves Junior Deputy with John Seed in his bunker. How will the next 7 years play out? 

The small town of Fall’s end was way too quiet. Olivia had been summoned here, by John Seed himself none-the-less. She moved silently through the back valleys of the city in an attempt to get the drop on the gucci monster. She could hear the church bells ringing in the distance, calling for her to come forward. She checked her pistol, the loyal sidearm that had gotten her so far. The magazine was full, and ready to go.

“Hey, stay safe, you hear? John Seed is royally pissed with you. So you better watch your back, don’t let them corner you.” Dutch advised over the radio.

“I know what I’m doing.” Olivia swiftly replied as she came up to the church. Woah she thought, as she observed the crows nailed to the door of the church. She debated with herself about how she should approach the situation at hand.

Finally, she did as she always did. She confronted it head on. She stepped up the church steps and grabbed the handle of the door. Just as soon as she opened the door, she was greeted with stock of a firearm. The cultist hit her hard, enough to make her vision blurry and make her body go limp. She drifted in and out of consciousness.

She woke up to a sight she definitely did not want to see. A boot planted firmly on her collarbone, it belonged to a cultist who pointed their rifle point blank at her face. Suddenly, a strange sting feeling nipping at her chest. She looked away from the rifle and saw the face of John Seed himself, busy with his own work. She grabbed his arm, while grunting at the sting.

“I wouldn’t do that. Haven’t you ever heard that tattoos are permanent? If you want this look good when you are old, then I would suggest lying still. I want to get this right.” John suggested and looked deep in to her eyes. With the fear that it could turn out worse for her, she obliged to let him finish his work.

“Very good. Once the sin is exposed, we can work towards absolving it. That’s what you want, isn’t it deputy?” John asked with a very cocky voice. Sounding way too smug.  

She tried to wiggle herself free, but the cultists had been firm in her grip on her. She felt the sting of the tattoo gun, and cursed herself for being stupid enough to take the front door on the way in. She hoped for some sort of miracle, anything that could bring her out of this misery. Whatever higher being that was in power must have found it funny to escalate things.

The sound of the sirens going off was enough to make John Seed stop his tattooing, he looked around confused, and, to her credit, Olivia did try to take advantage of the situation. But the cultist’s boot was unyielding, they didn’t move unless told to do so. John’s radio went off, buzzing with several different people trying to reach him.

“Brother! It is happening. Get to the gate as fast as your can. Prepare for God’s righteous fury” It was Joseph’s voice that echoed throughout the small church. John’s expression kept changing with each passing second, but at last, he laughed. He laughed like a madman. Olivia looked confused.

“Well Deputy, seems like we will have to continue this at the bunker. It’s a shame, but the Father’s word finally became true, as I knew they would.” He smiled, and gestured for his guards to wrap things up. Olivia was quickly placed in handcuffs, and forced to walk outside with a gun at the back of her head.

Jerking her cuff in a futile attempt to break free, the deputy tried to make her capture and escort as hard as possible for the cult. She was also 95% certain that the Seeds had been fucking with her, that there was no collapse, that the sirens were nothing more than an attempt to scare them. She tried to kick back at the cultist’s leg, but was unsuccessful in doing so.

That was, of course, until she stepped outside. A loud bang caught her attention, and blinded her instantly. Her mind was working on full drive to figure out what had just happened. Her mind couldn’t accept the truth Eden’s gate had been filling her and everyone else with. There was no way that a bomb just went off, had there? Olivia looked over at John, and saw probably the biggest smirk she had ever seen in her life planted on his face. There was confusion, just as there was silence. No one said anything, the world had suddenly stopped.

Mary May, Pastor Jerome and Nick were suddenly gone, she got scared. Had they left her behind? Had they been killed? The cultists were busy almost cheering in a sick way. The world they hated had ended, the world they wanted had arrived. Olivia realized this was a chance to escape, a chance to escape to a bunker where she could ride it out with Nick and the others. The cultists were not looking, they were too busy… Celebrating?

Olivia took the chance, took the opportunity. Her hands might have been cuffed behind the back, but as long as her legs were free, she could run like hell. Run until whatever was happening was gone. It had to be a lie, it had to be a dream of some sort… Or a bliss hallucination… Perhaps Faith had finally fried her mind?

But, as it turned out, nothing of it mattered. Just as she tried to run off, John grabbed her shoulder roughly. Her mind threw caution to the wind and used whatever strength was left in her body to yank herself free. John’s grip did not yield to her efforts however. “LET ME GO SHITHEAD!” She yelled, and tried to kick him with her legs.

“My my my… Deputy, you are really owning up to that wrath.” He laughed as he forced her on the ground. “Let’s take this to the gate.” John ordered with a smirk as he forced the deputy in to the back of the white pick up truck. She didn’t make it easy for him, every step of the way to the pick up truck she fought, she dug her heels in, she spitted in his face. She looked around desperately for any of her friends, or anyone who could help her.

But, John was firm in his quest. He almost dragged her by her ponytail, forcing her into the pick up. But he was in denial if he thought she was done there. She continued to resist, and she would resist to the end of time itself. She kicked the driver’s seat in an attempt to stop it, to make it crash. She was not going back to the bunker.

John’s radio came to life again. “Brother, are you alright?” It was the first time Olivia ever had heard worry in Jacob’s voice, The first time she had heard actual human emotion from the man.

“Yes, I’m transporting the dep-yuu-tee to my gate.” He almost sings it, with a smile covering half his lower face.

“Good, the Father settled in Faith’s gate. But, he’ll take the tunnel to your gate soon… If you can keep the deputy on ice until then.” Jacob replied, back to the usual commanding voice.

“Not to worry, I do believe our deputy wants to catch up with Hudson. She won’t be going anywhere.” John remarked as he leaned back in his seat, despite the driver going 110 miles through the back roads of Holland valley in order to get to the bunker in time. Olivia went limp as she heard Hudson being name dropped… What had happened to her? What will happen to her? Now, fear finally began to settle in.

Suddenly, the world was on fire, and it all seemed to real to her. Suddenly, she felt hopeless. It all seemed way too real. She had stopped her fighting, and slowly felt tears threatening to spill over. She forced them back down, she would not give him the satisfaction.

What about Nick, Kim and their baby? What about Eli and the whitetails? What about the sheriff and the prison? What about all the people she had helped, and those who had helped her? She didn’t know, and she was afraid of being in the unknown. There were so many things running through her brain.

While her mind ran deeper into the rabbit hole, they had pulled up to John’s gate. She didn’t fight, but she didn’t fully comply. She simply… She was simply lost in her own world. She only heard snippets of what being said. But the damning thing? She heard the bunker door close behind her. It felt like an Exclamation mark, somehow a chapter ended with a closure she didn’t want.

She didn’t do anything, she couldn’t think, she almost couldn’t breathe. How could the air feel so… tight? Like no matter how much she breathed, she could never fill her lungs up. She had to be dreamed, this was just a horrible nightmare. She would wake up, and she would be fine.

She thought of many things, she thought of her parents, her sister. She hoped they were safe back in Iowa. That was a fly over state, right? No one cared to nuke that… Right? Then again… Montana was not densely populated, and had no strategic value. Oh god… What if it was God’s fire that had cleansed the earth?

No… Joseph was a mad man, he had simply read between the lines, he had simply seen the news. There was no way in hell. She tried to rationalize it, tried to find meaning where… Where there might not be any. She was guided down, they descended deep within the bunker. She could feel John’s hand on her shoulder, slowly pushed her forward. Her mind began to come back in to reality, and saw the bunker in complete chaos. She didn’t want to admit it, but…

She was scared. She really was. She was once again placed in a chair within the red room. John had seen the mistake the last time she was there, and had now upgraded to stationary chair. Her hands were still cuffed behind her. John was whistling as he prepared the room for something. She had already atoned… Right? He had already violated her skin, what more did he want?

She should slap herself, this was John Seed she was dealing with. The man had build a career on wanting more. His entire operation in Holland Valley had been built on greed. The man was like… The opposite of what Eden’s gate stood for.

“Well, Deputy. Here we are.” John said as he leaned up against his tool table. Olivia wanted nothing more than to break free from her chains and punch the smug smile straight off John Seed’s face. But, she kept quiet, she kept eye contact. She would not let him win, not this easily.

“I must admit, the collapse came sooner than I expected. But, as always, the father keeps his word. How does it feel?” John asked, his voice was mocking in every sense of the word.

“Fuck you.” Olivia snarled as she kept trying to yank her free. “You fuckers got lucky. Let me out NOW!” She felt the fury built up inside her, and with all her might, she used that power to break free. But, she underestimated stainless steel. John laughed again, with that horrible voice of his.

“7 years, Deputy. We’ll have all the time in the world to get to know each other. Don’t worry-” John leaned in real close to her face. “-You will atone, and when the doors finally open, you will be worthy of the New Eden we will be building together.” John whispered into her ears. She headbutted him, and granted him a bloody nose in the process.

His expression turned into full fury. He locked his hands around her throat, and tightened his grip. “How many times do I have to tell you, DEPUTY? You will confess! YOU WILL ATONE! And...” He calmed down a bit. “-And you will walk through the gate with us, Hudson too.” He smirked. Olivia remained quiet.

“The Father will come, and you better be ready for him. He is the one that deemed you worthy in the first place. But, in the mean time, I think there is one matter we left unattended.” John mentioned as he went back to the tool table. He picked up a knife and slowly sharpened the knife in question. He whistled creepily throughout the process.

“So… Let’s get to work.” He smiled as he walked over to Olivia, and ripped the top part of her shirt off. “If you had welcomed Eden’s gate into your heart, then we wouldn’t have to do this.” John explained while looking deeply into her eyes. “But, I’m sure this will change your tune.” He smiled as he began to peel at the skin.

She screamed.