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antisocialgaycat · 10 days

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me??? procrastinating by writing a really shitty story???? no fuckin way

@elemelom

I don’t know why I climbed the tree. More importantly, I don’t know how I’m going to get down. I’m quite high off the ground and the wind is really starting to pick up. I can see the sun setting over the horizon, and if I wasn’t so stressed right now, this would really be quite peaceful.

It’s been 15 minutes and I’m still sitting here. I’m not sure I’ll ever have the courage to climb down. The wind has matted my hair and my eyes are watering, but my hands are frozen to the branch I’m sitting on and I really don’t want to look down.

It’s been 16 minutes and I looked down and now I’m shaking, both out of fear and because the wind is getting stronger and stronger. What if I fall? I don’t have my phone up here, and even if I did I wouldn’t be able to call for help because I’m holding on to this branch like that’s somehow going to do anything. I wish I were able to do anything right now.

It’s been half an hour and it’s fully dark out now. The wind is stronger than ever and I think this tree might just blow over. At least I can’t see the ground anymore. That’s a win right?

It’s been 45 minutes and I’m so so tired. I would probably fall asleep right here if I wasn’t trying so hard to not get blown out of this goddamned tree. The only thing that’s keeping me going right now is the thought of going home and having the hottest shower of my life. This wind is going to be the death of me.

It’s been an hour and a half and I don’t want to be alive anymore. I can’t feel my face and I think my hands might be permanently frozen to this branch. My ass hurts from sitting for so long but I don’t dare move because what if I fall?

It’s been 2 hours and I really do hate being alone with my thoughts. There’s nothing worse, I think, than having nothing to do but think. It really plays tricks on your mind.

It’s been 3 hours and I’m just about ready to jump out of this tree. I don’t care if I die. You know how I said that having nothing to do but think plays tricks on your mind? Yeah I’m feeling that now. The wind is howling even louder but I swear I can hear the voices of people chanting which honestly scares me a little. I hope it’s just my mind playing tricks on me. Well, even if it weren’t it’s not like these people would find me, sitting half frozen at the top of a tree. Good lord I’m an idiot.

It’s been who knows how long and I know I’m not going to make it out of here alive. I think I’m crying, but I can’t feel my face so I’m not really sure. I don’t think I can move a single muscle and my mind is going to all kinds of places that it shouldn’t. There are much better things to be thinking about than your old best friend who ghosted you or how the person you like has a crush on your best friend. But you know, when you’re stuck in a tree and you can’t move you have to do something to keep yourself occupied.

It’s been far too long and maybe I could climb down. Maybe I could be like the hero of a story and get myself out of here. Maybe I was exaggerating earlier and I’m not even that far off the ground. Maybe I will see tomorrow. Unlikely, though.

At least the wind has stopped a little.

It’s been maybe 6 hours, maybe more and I don’t even know if I’m alive. The wind picked back up and the branch I’m on is swaying more than before. What if it breaks? I don’t want to die. It sounds so trivial but I’m scared. I really am. What if I don’t see another sunrise?

It’s been at least 8 hours and I’m so hungry. Why did I climb this tree? What was I even trying to achieve? If I get through tonight I’m never going near a tree again.

It’s been maybe 9 hours, maybe 10 and I’ve started counting out loud. I can’t hear the sound of my voice over the roaring of the wind in my ears, but at least I have something to do and I know that I’m alive for now.

I’ve counted up to 10 million and back now. I swear the wind keeps getting stronger. The tree I’m in is swaying in the wind and it’s creaking so loudly I can hear it. I think the chanting’s come back too, but it’s more of a whisper than it was last time. I’m losing it.

It’s getting lighter, I think. The wind is still as strong as ever, but at least I can see.

The sunrise is beautiful from up here. Almost as soon as the sun arrived, the wind stopped entirely. I can feel myself thawing out but I’m not quite ready to move yet.

I’ve been sitting in the sun for about half an hour when I feel the wind start again. Seriously? I think to myself, letting out a weary sigh.

Almost as quickly as it started, the wind stops. The branch creaks to my right and when I look over I see what looks like a teenage girl of about 16 sitting there, rapidly flickering in and out of sight. “Who are you?” I demand, but she only smiles in response, extending her hand out to me. Slowly I reach out to take it, and when I do, I feel the warmth practically radiating from her incorporeal body. I ask the question again, this time filled with curiosity, not anger, and she answers.

“I’m the wind. And I do apologise sincerely. I had a bad day yesterday and I took it out on you. Would you like to get down from here?” I nod, slightly stunned, but at this point I’ll believe anything. She shuts her eyes for a brief moment and just like that, I’m slowly drifting to the ground. Once my feet touch solid earth I collapse and lie there for a moment, taking in the feeling until I roll over onto my back and look up. I see Wind wave a small goodbye and then disappear. I don’t know why I climbed that tree. I don’t know how I survived. I don’t know what just happened, but I do know that I’m going to go home and eat some soup and have a hot shower then sleep until tomorrow. I don’t think I ever want to see a tree again.

#just a load of garbage #yes its windy outside can you tell #as wiht all my stories this is unedited we die like real men

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mumms-the-word · 8 months

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Abducted

I'm challenging myself to do this BG3 February Fic challenge, forcing myself to write a little bit each day. Feel free to follow this sporadic journey! We'll see if I keep it up.

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What was Tav doing when they were abducted?

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This was Dani’s favorite part of their set as the Merry Rovers. The big finale song, with Brannon on the lyre and his daughter Liara on the lute, Paraxxel keeping up the beat on his drums and Kellen embellishing it all with his flute. While Brann and Lee carried the weight of the song with their instruments and voices, Dani sawed her way through harmonies and melodies on her fiddle as the tempo picked up with every verse, flashing a goading grin at Paraxxel when he gave them the warning rhythm that he was about to really pick up the pace.

She and that snarky dragonborn were always trying to challenge one another. But she wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction of thinking she was worried.

Dani caught a brief glimpse of Brann’s fleeting eyeroll, but though he simplified his strumming on the lyre, every word he sung of that last, breakneck round was sung with sharp accuracy, far better than any of the half-drunk or well-past-drunk voices in the crowd that tried to keep up with him. Once that last, speedy verse was complete, they sang through the chorus, with Dani’s bow flying across the strings, and ended with their own personal embellishments, Dani’s bow high in the air on the last note. The crowd broke into raucous (if drunken) applause, stamping their feet and beating on the tables.

Brann held up a hand for quiet, waiting patiently as it took a bit for their crowd to settle. When they did, he gestured for Dani to begin their farewell song. Still sweating from the last verse, she leveled her bow against the strings of her fiddle and coaxed it to the first gentle bars of music.

“Never have we stood before such an adoring audience,” Brann said, smiling slightly. Dani flicked her gaze to Liara, who twitched her eyebrows up, both of them amused by her father’s lie. They’d played for plenty of adoring audiences, and livelier ones too. But neither of them interrupted their fearless leader. “Much as we might wish to stay and play for you until the wee hours of the morn, this must be our farewell.”

“Not farewell, Father,” Liara said, on cue. Practiced and perfect as always. “How about…till we meet again?”

The crowd, as if also sensing their cue, gave a smattering of applause and a few hearty whistles. Brann nodded and readied his lyre.

“Till we meet again, then,” he said. “Raise your glasses, lads, to the hope of reunion. And plenty of merry songs between now and when we meet again!”

The five of them lined up on the edge of the stage, with Dani playing her fiddle and Brann plucking a few supporting chords on the lyre. As a group, they raised their voices in practiced harmony for the well-known chorus:

So fill to me the parting glass

And drink a health whate’er befalls

Then gently rise and softly call

Goodnight and joy be to you all

They took their bows amidst a final burst of applause and were soon off the stage. While Brann stayed behind to collect their payment from the barkeep (and remain conveniently in view should any patrons feel generous enough to toss a few coins his way as thanks for the entertainment), Dani and the others squeezed themselves into a booth in one corner to wolf down a well-earned dinner. As usual, Liara and Kellen took one side, practically joined at the hip, leaving the other booth seat for Dani and Paraxxel. Brann dragged over a chair to join them after a while, setting down both a plate of food for himself and a leather bag with a bit of coin inside.

“What’s the score, Brann?” Paraxxel asked, deftly blocking Dani’s hand as she tried to sneak a bit of roasted potato from off his plate. Dani huffed and reached for Liara’s plate instead.

“Not our best, but we have a bit extra tonight,” Brann said. “We could have done much worse.”

“How much extra?” Dani asked, leaning closer, golden eyes bright. Depending on how much money they got from tonight, she had a few plans in mind. A few adventures to be had, perhaps.

Brann didn’t answer immediately, chewing his food patiently, as if there weren’t four pairs of highly interested eyes on him. He even took a second bite, chewing and swallowing without a word. As he went in for his third, Liara threw up her hands.

“Dad! Don’t keep us in suspense!” She scooted closer to him. “How much extra?”

Brann lowered his fork, bite uneaten, his lips twitching at a smile he was too proud to show. “Something to the tune of a few gold pieces for each of us.”

Paraxxel nodded with smug satisfaction, Dani gasped, and Liara clapped her hands with delight, immediately reached for both of Kellen’s hands.

“Did you hear that, darling?” she said. “In the morning we should go back by that dress shop and—“

“In the morning,” Brann said sternly, “we need to make way to the Basilisk Gate. The earlier we get there, the sooner we can get through any pointless checkpoints and start getting more gigs on the books.”

Liara groaned. “Dad, Lower City isn’t going anywhere. It’ll only be a teensy detour.”

Kellen gave one of her hands a squeeze. “Whatever you want from the shop, I can run over and pick it up while you all go on ahead.”

“That’s not the point, K,” she whined. She slipped her hands from his and propped her elbows on the table, her chin and cheeks cupped in her hands like a pouty child. “I wanted to go together and shop…”

Dani giggled and nudged Liara’s foot with her own under the table. “Chin up, Lee. Whatever you would have spent there, my mama could make you for half the price, and probably twice as pretty.”

“But that’s not shopping with K,” Liara mumbled. “Just us. Alone…”

“In a shop,” Paraxxel said dryly. His restless leg was already showing, his knee bouncing under the table, making some of the utensils clatter against the table. “Hardly a romantic date.”

“Like you would know a romantic date if it bit you on the scaly ass, Axxel.”

“Hey, keep my ass out of this.”

“And stop bouncing!” She aimed a kick under the table, but caught Dani’s shin instead.

“Ow! Lee!”

“Enough,” Brann said. He shot hard looks at all of them except Kellen, who wisely minded his own business by keeping his eyes on his plate and taking another bite of his food. “It’s not up for discussion. In the morning, we head towards Basilisk Gate.”

He paused, taking a long sip from his mug. “…Maybe we’ll stop by Maeva’s on the way over.”

Dani brightened at the mention of her mother’s name. “Really? Do you promise?”

“Well…no promises but…if we’re going to be in the area…”

But she knew the old salt well enough to know he’d swing by, if not for her then for himself. She didn’t exactly know how to define the relationship between Brann and her mother, but both of them were family. Her mother by birth, and Brann by choice.

“We should bring Maemae some herbs for her legs, if we can,” Liara said, no longer pouty. That was her word for Dani’s mother, a fond mixture of “mama” and “Maeva” that Dani also sometimes used. Though she and Liara weren’t actually sisters—that much was obvious, since Liara was a human and Dani was a tiefling—they were family by circumstance. Maeva had raised Liara off and on alongside Dani, and now Brann had taken Dani under his wing to be one of the Merry Rovers.

“I’ll buy some tomorrow with my gold,” Kellen offered, but Brann shook his head.

“I’ll cover it.” He turned his mug idly on the table, his eyes both focused and distant. As usual, his thoughts were impossible to discern.

They finished their dinner with only light banter before breaking up to spend the last few hours before bed in their own way. Brann wanted to retire immediately—“Bah, leave an old man to his rest,” he said, when Paraxxel asked if he were up to a game of cards—but the rest of them, all half Brann’s age and younger, were still wide awake. Liara and Kellen disappeared to try and find a romantic walk somewhere nearby, as if there was such a thing in this part of the Outer City, which left Paraxxel and Dani on their own, as usual.

“Got any plans in mind, Dani?” he asked, as they stepped out of the tavern for some fresher, quieter air. Though it was dark, there were plenty of people still walking the streets, either looking for a drink or walking home after a long day. As they started meandering down the street, Dani stretched her arms over her head before shaking them loose, from shoulders to wrists.

“Want to find a few good tables at another in and partner up for Three Dragon Ante?” she asked. “If we’re lucky, we can turn a few extra gold pieces into a big, fat purse of gold.”

He barked a laugh. “Not the way you play.”

She bumped her shoulder against his arm, since she couldn’t quite reach his shoulder, tall as he was. “What, you don’t trust me to slip you the right cards at the right time? I’ve been practicing.” She wiggled her fingers as if this were proof.

“I don’t trust you to know which cards are the right cards,” he said. “Besides, the last time we tried that, we got thrown out. Because someone—“ he gave her a pointed look, green dragonfire eyes glowing in the darkness, “—made her moves a little too obvious.”

“Fine. Spoilsport.” She crossed her arms. “What did you have in mind?”

He rubbed the back of his neck for a moment before shrugging. “Dunno. A game of Ante wouldn’t be bad. But I’m feeling a little restless, you know? I think I’d rather blow off some steam.”

Dani tilted her head. She knew exactly what she meant by “blow off some steam,” but she was disappointed to hear him say it. She’d rather get into mischief with her friend, not jump into bed with him. Not that he’d ask her. They’d tried that once and decided it wasn’t for them. They were too much like family at this point for that to work.

But they were friends, and friends didn’t leave friends high and dry.

“Tell you what,” she said. “You play a round of Ante with me, and I’ll scope out the patrons and be your charming wingman. I get some gold, you get a good lay.”

“Neither of those is guaranteed, but…” He turned and held out his hand for her to shake. “It’s a deal.”

Dani grinned and took his hand, shaking it firmly. “Perfect. There should be a tavern just down the—“

A rumbling interrupted her, like thunder. Confused, she glanced skyward, as did many other people around them. It was certainly the season for sudden storms, but this night the stars were out and clearly visible. Hardly a cloud in the sky.

Dani glanced at Paraxxel. “Did you hear…”

The rumbling came again, this time with a sound like deep brassy alarm, strange and alien, as if made by both creature and machine. Suddenly, high in the clear night sky, a shadow blinked into existence, writhing and black, tentacles undulating at the front of its beastly shape.

Paraxxel squinted up at the shape, taking a step toward it. “What the hells—“

The brassy alarm sounded off again and the shape—the ship—dipped down toward the streets, tentacles stretching down to brush the tops of rooftops and watchtowers, dipping between buildings to the streets below. All of a sudden, screams rent the air, at first distantly, but very quickly growing closer. People far down the street began to run, desperate to escape the monstrous thing in the sky.

The ship wasn’t stopping.

Panic gripped Dani’s chest as people fled around them pursued by that giant black thing, and she tugged on Paraxxel’s hand. “Run! Axxel, run!”

She let go and booked it, Paraxxel on her heels and soon overtaking her. They had to get to shelter, somewhere the ship couldn’t reach them.

Paraxxel was bigger, stronger, his legs longer, and he soon left Dani nearly in the dust. Her lungs burned with exertion as she urged her legs to move faster, to outrun whatever that thing was, the terror of what it could do to her—even though she had no idea what it could do—giving her the energy to push through the pain. She wove deftly between those who were slower than her, in one case leaping over someone who had fallen and was struggling to get to their feet.

Paraxxel was the first to reach the door way of a tavern, wrenching it open and placing himself bodily in the doorframe to keep it open even as the patrons inside screamed at him to stop and tried to push him out. He gestured frantically to Dani. “Come on, come on! Just a bit farther!”

He stopped suddenly, green-fire eyes wide as he looked up at something high over their heads. Dani saw the tentacle snake down from above them and skid to a stop, scrambling to change course and crashing to the cobblestones instead.

“Dani!” Paraxxel launched himself from the doorway and out in the street. She watched, horrified, as the writhing appendage she’d just narrowly escaped brushed against Paraxxel. He disappeared in a flurry of black ashes, as if he’d been blinked out of existence, the black ship cruising forward overhead without so much as slowing down.

“Axxel!”

But Dani didn’t have any time to react. Another deep rumble split the sky behind her. She turned, attempting to get back on her feet, but it was far too late. A second ship, flying even lower than the first, swept up the road, picking up the panicking stragglers that the first ship had passed over. The street was filled with bursts of black ashes and screams cut short. Nothing, absolutely nothing could stop it. She watched, frozen, as one of the undulating arms of the ship curved down to touch her.

Then her vision clouded over with black, and she was gone.

#bg3 #bg3ficfeb #meridan zavrai #oc #dani #tav #my fic #unedited #because we don't do edits we just die like men

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discogoode · 1 year

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crygi and “how does it feel to be in love?” !!! how fun is that

“Hey Crystal, Can I ask you something?” Gigi inquired as the two were sitting on the couch sharing a bowl of popcorn and binge-watching Real Housewives of Beverly Hills.

“Yeah, of course. Always.” Crystal smiled, pausing the TV and turning to look at her best friend.

“How does it feel to be in love?” Gigi asked, seeming a little more nervous than before.

Crystal froze in her tracks. Gigi had no idea how ironic it was to ask her a question like that, not knowing Crystal had been in love with the other girl since the moment Jan introduced them to each other.

“I guess, well, everyone always says love feels like butterflies in your stomach, but I don’t think it feels like that at all.”

“What do you think love feels like?”

“Warmth. Like coming home after a long day at work and curling under the blankets in your bed. It feels like smiling and laughing with someone when all you wanted to do was cry. It feels like this constant hug of safety, like you finally feel secure and wanted.”

“Wow.”

“Sorry, that was a lot.”

“No it wasn’t. That was beautiful. I could only dream of someone feeling that way about me.”

Crystal stared at the ground for a moment, before realizing she couldn’t just leave Gigi thinking that no one felt that way about her.

“Gigi.”

“Yeah?”

“You’re my warmth.”

Gigi looked up into Crystal’s eyes and stared for a moment, a small nervous smile poking up at the corners of her mouth.

“You mean…?”

“Yeah, for like forever. I’ve been in love with you sense the moment I laid eyes on you at that party Jan had.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I was nervous you wouldn’t feel the same way. You’re important to me, Gigi. I didn’t want to lose you.”

“You could never lose me.”

Gigi leaned forward, placing a slightly shaky hand on the back of Crystal’s neck and pulling her forward until their lips softly met.

And Gigi felt warm.

#crygi #this is unedited #we die like men #drabble

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hustlemeanokay · 1 year

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Noch Teyrn-Coe . Codos on the Range . Codos . Cheyenne System

#starfield game #starfield #my starfield oc #my oc #noch teyrn #noch teyrn-coe #my screenshots #xbox #unedited #we die like men #codos on the range

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jee-bus · 1 year

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Dirty Little Secrets

Night One

Numb. That’s the best way Harrison could describe how he felt. He should be feeling immense fear, sadness, maybe regret. But all he could muster was numb. Death row had its cold bony hands on him, and in seven days time he would be seated in the electric chair, for a crime that he himself didn't even commit. His jury had decided his innocence was false, and now he was going to die for it.

So there he was, sitting in his small solitary cell, alone with the quiet and his own thoughts. Currently he could find nothing better to do than to count the stars he could see from the small rectangular window he had. An exhausted sigh fell from his lips.

"You too, huh?" a voice said, startling Harrison.

"P..pardon?" He choked out, not quite sure on what to say. The voice ignored him and kept talking.

"Death rows a bitch, wouldn't ya' say? Locking us in these small cells, treating us like animals." the mysterious voice said, clearly annoyed.

"W…well...uhm what are you in for?" Harrison started, not sure why he was even conversing with this voice anyways. Again, the voice didn't respond, instead opting to dodge the question.

"Like it matters. Soon I'll be six feet under. What about you?" the voice asked, suddenly curious about Harrisons, soon to be ended, life.

"Murder. I didn't do it though." Harrison said quickly before adding, "My name is Harrison, by the way." It seemed strange, to Harrison, to continue exchanging morbid pleasantries with someone if he didn't even know the other's name.

"Murder, huh? Pretty steep charge, and you say you didn't do it. How'd you get stuck with that one, eh?" the nameless voice asked him. Harrison thought about the question, it's one that he often pondered himself. He thought any jury would be able to see that he clearly didn't do it, that there was no chance in hell that he stabbed his wife. But then they came back the next day and told the whole courtroom their final verdict. Guilty. He swore that in the moment his heart skipped about five beats.

"Jury convicted me. Apparently the prosecution put up a damn good argument, and now I'm an innocent man picking up the check while the real criminal gets away with it." Harrison said bitterly. His heart ached for his life before this. He wanted to go home to his wife, but she wouldn't be around.

"...So when are you set to die?" The voice questioned.

"A week from now." Harrison told the other man. He wasn't sure why he was still participating in this conversation. Maybe to distract himself from his impending death, maybe to get his mind off of his wife, Vanessa. Whatever it was, it's working.

“They really wanted you dead as fast as possible, ey? I have some time, not much, but it’s valuable nonetheless.” Harrison got the inexplicable feeling that this voice belonged to someone he knew, as impossible as that may be. The way the other man casually teased him and confessed, albeit mysteriously, his own sins was familiar somehow.

“I didn’t do it. I would never, I mean. We were perfect together- happy. Our life together was just getting started, nothing could ruin it, nothing.” Harrison didn’t understand how he could’ve ended up here. He and Vanessa were about to start a family, finally settle down and live like the perfect families in movies did.

“I didn’t say ya did Harry. Your life isn’t for me to debate. Whatever you did, crime or not, y̶o̶u̸’̴l̸l̵ ̶g̵e̴t̸ ̴w̶h̸a̴t̵ ̵y̸o̵u̵ ̸d̸e̵s̷e̷r̶v̴e̸.̷ ̴E̵v̵e̷r̸y̶o̴n̵e̷ ̷a̶l̸w̵a̴y̵s̸ ̵d̵o̴e̸s̴.̶”

“What? What the hell are you talking about? What are you insinuating sir?! Answer me!” But the voice stopped responding, and Harrison was left in the dark with his thoughts once more.

Night Two

Death row inmates only get a very limited amount of yard time, and they have to wear shackles during it. With the exception of the shower, Harrison had to wear shackles everywhere that wasn’t his cell, (but even then the supervision felt like twenty security cameras pointing directly at him. He could barely wash his hair without a guard thinking he’s going to snap.) and he was tired of it.

Harrison was a good man. Sure he’s made his mistakes, but who hasn’t? What person hasn’t gotten mad at their (l̷̩̐y̴̟͠ī̴̬n̸͌ͅg̷̠͂ ̵̘̌) wife over something miniscule? He didn’t kill his wife, he didn't do what the jury said he did. He just-

“Yeesh buddy, I can hear you mumbling. Calm down.” There it was, the cryptic voice belonging to the mysterious person. Harrison had spent his time out of the cell listening intently to every voice he heard, hoping to find a matching face. But he didn’t have any luck, they must be on different inmate schedules or something.

“Sorry, I just can’t believe that I’m here. I don��t deserve this.”

“y̸o̵u̴'̴r̴e̴ ̵g̵u̷i̴l̷t̵y̴ ̶H̵a̴r̴r̸y̴ ̴a̸n̸d̸ ̵y̸o̶u̶ ̶k̷n̸o̴w̴ ̸i̶t̵”

“What was that?” The hair on the back of Harrisons neck stood up, he felt a dread fill him- even if it was just for a second.

“I said, no one here thinks they deserve what’s happening to them. Some of the schmucks think they’re god incarnate and that what they did was justified, some are narcissists and don’t believe they were given a fair trial, and a small percentage of them are truly innocent.”

“Like me, I honestly do not belong here.”

“Right.” Something in his neighbor's voice made Harrison feel naked. Like this person could see into his very soul and pull out the most wretched things known to man. The voice was like dark black ink that overtook the clearest waters, turning them into small pieces of the midnight sky.

He wanted to keep this voice talking, “Are you ever going to tell me your name? I told you mine.”

“[y̸̟͗o̸͎̓ủ̸̮ ̵̣͝k̴̺͂n̵͓͝ȯ̸̩ẅ̵̞́ ̴͎͒m̸̌͜y̵͇͗ ̵̳̓n̷̲͌ȧ̸͕m̶̡̚ȇ̶̯]” The voice gave him an answer, but far from anything Harrison could’ve wanted.

“I don’t, I swear I don’t. But whatever, it’s not like it’ll be worth anything to me in a few days.” Harrison felt cold, like he ran through ice water. He tried to stay as still as possible, for fear that his neighbor could somehow see him. See his thoughts. See who he really was.

“You think you know someone," the voice began, "even if you yourself does a bad thing there's always someone you thought you could trust. They might be mad at you but they would never hurt you or anything. But then you let your guard down and suddenly… y̸̮͝ō̴̜u̷̧̓ ̵͚̇h̵̢̄a̸̳͆ṽ̸͎e̷̪͛ ̶͎͆a̸͚̽ ̴̲̇k̸̥̚ṇ̷̀ī̵̮f̷̙̋e̵̊͜ ̵̟̕i̴͋͜n̵̰̎ ̷͖̈́y̷̤͆o̴̐͜ŭ̵͍r̴͜͠ ̶̳̋b̴̅͜a̵̭͠c̴̤̿ḳ̵͊.”

It was silent. Everything was quiet. But from down the halls, if someone were to listen closely, they may be able to hear the terrified sobs of a broken man.

Night Three

Harrison didn’t leave his cell. He remained in his morbid solitude, too scared to move. His conversation with an ambiguous voice left him more terrified than when he got his death sentence. It spoke like an old friend would, but with a slight edge in its voice that said it had an axe to grind. Needless to say, Harrison didn’t want to risk running into the voice's owner.

It was an hour or so until dusk. There was still sunlight bleeding through the small rectangular window, it filled Harrison with a sense of relief he still had time [B̴̡̔e̸͔͝f̵̼̿o̵̤̍ṛ̴̿e̶̜͐ ̵̳̎ť̶͕h̶͔͒e̵̼͌ ̶̪̂v̷̯͋ơ̴̞i̷̹̕c̴̭̕ĕ̷͎ ̷͈̽w̴̝̎o̶͔̍ṷ̶͝l̷̮̑ḓ̶͆ ̶̞̏c̸͕̑ō̴̪n̸̺͝f̶͖̎e̷̺͊s̶̩̓s̷̞͛ ̸͇̑ḩ̸̽i̷͙̚š̶̠ ̷̫̂s̴͕̕í̸ͅn̷̰̿s̶̳̔ ̷̰̇] before the voice would inevitably make first contact.

His back was leaning against the cold, rough cinder block wall; in his hands was a copy of Crime and Punishment, a book that was delivered to his cell around lunch time. He thought the idea of ‘Crime’ and ‘Punishment’ was fitting to his own situation involving the two.

“Harry. Are you there?”

His blood ran cold. Why is this voice speaking to him now? It’s not dark yet, he still had an hour or so. Why- why now?

Trying to stay silent, Harrison didn’t move a muscle. He didn’t want to talk. Not now, and in an ideal world- not ever.

“[Y̷̘͂ȍ̸̜u̶̞͆ ̵͈̃ç̷̒a̷̮͒n̴̹͋'̴̓ͅt̷̰͛ ̶̫̅h̴̪̍ḯ̶͕ḏ̶̀e̸͚͐ ̴͖̉H̵͈͛à̴̱ŕ̸͍ṟ̶̀y̵͔͝,̸̺͌ ̶̟͑I̵̫̍ ̶̤͠k̸͉̍n̶̐ͅo̵̪͘w̸͇̅ ̸͌͜w̶̺̎h̵͎́a̴̓ͅṯ̵̿ ̴̯̇y̷̱̓o̴̺͊u̷͍͋ ̵͇̍d̸͓́i̸̳͝d̵͚́.̸̛͓ ].”

What he did? Harrison didn’t do anything, and if he did surely his hand was forced! He’s an innocent man, he always has been. So why was he getting bombarded, harassed even, by this voice?

He heard a ripping sound. Looking down Harrison realized his knuckles were white and he had been gripping the book like his life depended on it, causing the page to rip. He was terrified, even though a thick wall of concrete separated the two, Harrison couldn’t escape the urge to curl under his blanket like a scared little kid.

“["̶T̸a̴l̸k̴ ̶t̸o̷ ̴m̴e̷ ̸H̸a̷r̴r̶y̵!̴ ̶Y̷o̷u̸ ̸c̷a̸n̴'̷t̴ ̸r̸u̶n̵ ̸f̵r̵o̷m̵ ̴m̶e̸ ̷f̵o̵r̴e̵v̴e̶r̸.̸ ̴Y̶O̷U̶ ̷C̸A̴N̵'̴T̴ ̸H̶I̷D̸E̷ ̶F̸R̷O̷M̴ ̵W̵H̷A̴T̷ ̴Y̷O̷U̴ ̴D̷I̵D̸!̸"̴]” The voice was loud and distorted. Harrison could hear it coming from all directions. It felt like it was coming out of his own ears. Harrison swore he could feel his head splitting in half from the sound alone. He curled the blanket around him tighter, all he could do was hide; clenching his eyes as tight as his brain would allow.

Harrison didn’t know how long he stayed that way, trying to block out the screaming; but soon his cell door opened and a guard tore the blanket from him, causing him to fall on the ground.

“What is going on in here!? This whole wing can hear you screaming bloody murder!” The guard, Konnors as his name tag read, stood above him with an angry look written on his face.

The guard has it all wrong, Harrison wasn’t the one screaming. He was trying to block it out. Slowly getting up, Harrison could feel the layer of sweat that covered his body. The more he calmed down, feeling safer in the presence of a guard, he could feel a slight pain in his throat. Had he really been screaming? Harrison could’ve sworn he was just trying to block it all out.

“Well? What in the hell were you doing?!” Konnors was clearly getting impatient by his lack of response, Harrison debated on telling him the real reason. Snitches don’t make it far in prison, and if he was the only one getting in trouble- clearly he was the only one they heard. Harrison also had a peculiar feeling that they wouldn’t believe him if he told the truth.

“N..night terror, sir. I’ve been getting them since I was a child.” Lying seemed like the only viable answer. So lie he did. Konnors didn’t look convinced, but was clearly exhausted and didn’t want to stay longer than he had too.

“Right. Well, try to keep it down.” and with that, the guard left the cell and locked Harrison back in.

After Harrison heard the footsteps drift down the hall, he turned around and started picking up his stuff. Trying to keep his mind off of what just happened, he buried himself in his blanket and shoved his face in the book.

Harrison read until his eyes couldn’t hold themselves open anymore. Soon he felt himself drifting off.

“[S̶̖̃w̶͇̏ē̵̼ë̴́͜t̷̲̄ ̴̛̗ḍ̶̓r̷̙̂e̷͚͠â̷͎m̸̨̐s̴͍̓.̶̟̃]”

Night Four

After last night Harrison decided that it was better to stay away from his cell as long as possible. He didn’t have permission to be in the library (part of him was okay with that, silence seems to draw out pain), so he spent his time in the yard. He was still shackled but that didn’t matter. Harrison wanted to enjoy the sun, soon it would go out for him forever.

When lunch rolled around Harrison was sitting by himself at a table in the middle of the cafeteria. There were guards stationed all around the room, which made Harrison feel safe. His horrifying neighbor couldn’t reach him without one of them seeing.

Today’s meal was a burger with broccoli and a pitiful excuse for mac’n’cheese. Not that the rest of the meal was any better, the meat was gray and the broccoli was still cold. But even poorly made food was better than being in his cell.

Keeping his eyes on his tray, Harrison started chewing his limp broccoli, and then took a swig of water to chase it down when he swallowed. When he was halfway through his dull burger, Harrison got the most peculiar feeling that someone was looking at him.

Looking up he saw a horrific scene. A man (about a foot taller than Harrisons five-eleven frame) with brown hair and dark knowing eyes was just standing in the middle of the room, about two tables away, just staring at him. The man was ghostly pale and his eyes were glazed over, like he would see the world through a blurred filter.

But what really made Harrisons blood go cold, was the red. There was so much red on the other man. The biggest spot was over his heart, then it traveled down- staining his clothes as it went. It was splattered on his face, it fell from his lips, there was red everywhere.

The man remained stoic, never blinking, never looking away, just…staring. Harrison could feel his heart rate pick up, his breathing quickened, his palms became slick with sweat. He wasn’t hungry anymore, he felt like throwing up. Harrison couldn’t be here. Not with this thing staring at him.

Why weren’t the guards doing anything? This man was bleeding, profusely bleeding, why wasn't anyone doing anything? Why wasn't anyone else even looking?!

Suddenly the man's mouth started moving. After a moment Harrison realized he was mouthing something to him. Was he asking for help? Mayhaps he was praying? Asking whatever god he believed in for mercy?

Trying to focus on the dying man's bleeding lips, Harrison felt the world around him go silent. No longer could he hear the grim conversations of his fellow inmates, nor could he hear the jingling of keys from the guards walking around. It was just Harrison and this bloody soul. Harrison could hear the way the blood made his lips stick together with every new word, the horrifying way his lungs never expelled or accepted air, how his teeth slightly clashed- Harrison could hear it all. And he hated it.

The mouthing became a chilling whisper, which soon became a talking voice, which evolved into yelling, that eventually morphed to screaming. Still- no one else reacted. The man wasn't saying anything, merely repeating one word. Over and over and over again. It was chilling.

["̶̬̆l̵̟͑i̵̞̓a̶͉̚r̶̘̕.̶̫̄ ̶̗̐l̸͕̊i̴͇͐a̶̛̠r̴̡̔.̷̟̅ ̷͔͗l̵͙͠ȉ̶͖a̸̺̕r̶͓̊.̷̮̏ ̴͖̐l̵͈͠ī̸͜a̴̛͕r̶̬̊.̴̩̓ ̶̛̖L̷̝̿i̴͕̓a̴̠̿r̷̫̾.̷̧͗ ̷̞͘L̶̰̓ì̷͙a̵̩͠r̴͕̉.̵̨̈́ ̴̺͆L̴̮̓i̵̦̾ä̴̢́r̵͔̈́.̵͓͂ ̸͕̔L̸̺͊i̵̲͗ą̸̇r̴͍͌.̷̤͌ ̴̱͘L̴͈̚I̶̥͂À̶̢Ṛ̶͋.̴͖͒ ̷̝́L̸̲͋Í̷̬À̸͍R̴̨̾.̴̻̚ ̸̺̇L̶̻̋Ḯ̸̜A̸͇̾R̵̖̈.̷̈͜ ̴̭̍L̴͇̾I̵͂ͅA̶̰͒R̷͇͋.̴͚̆ ̵̰̂L̸̜͠I̷̹̋A̸̓͜R̴̹͝.̴̬͘ ̵͓͒Ļ̷̃Ǐ̷͙Ǎ̸̳R̴̹̈́.̴͙̽"̴̗̈́ ]

It was the same horrifying voice as his neighbors. This must be him. This shell of a man must be the mysterious voice that had occupied such a large part of his brain. Harrison could feel his cheeks begin to wet, he could feel his body shake, he could feel his will to live dwindle out.

The bloody man began to make his way towards Harrison, leaving red footprints in his wake. He was still shouting, still no one else reacted. Why weren't they seeing this? How were they not seeing this? It felt like the only thing Harrison could keep his eyes on.

The man drew closer and yet, Harrison was frozen. He felt like a statue, paralyzed. He was less than a foot away, staring down at the crying man. Once he was finally at the table, he leaned down; making sure to get his face real close to Harrisons.

The smell of rotting flesh violated his senses. This man's skin was peeling, blood was everywhere, he looked like a corpse.

He was a corpse.

"What's the matter, Harry? You look like you've seen a ghost." And with a sickly grin the man reached up and gave Harrison a weak pat on the cheek.

The fear, the smell, the blood, everything was just too much. Harrison couldn't breathe, he couldn't move, and he didn't want to be here. Face to face with this thing, it made him feel everything from anger to sadness to regret. It was flooding his senses, his brain was going into hyperdrive trying to figure out how to react.

Harrisons ears started ringing, his eyes went blurry, his mouth was as dry as the Sahara. Looking up he saw the man looking at him with a twisted grin, there was blood on his teeth. He couldn't do this, Harrison could face this. He didn't want to face this.

That twisted grin was the last thing Harrison saw before his world went black.

Night Five

Harrison Gale sat in a courtroom. To the left was the prosecution table and the jury seats, to the right was a window showing the rainy weather. Behind him sat an audience and in front was the judge. The courtroom had emerald green carpeting and a white tile ceiling. The chairs, tables, stands, and doors were made out of a dark spruce.

Harrison had this courtroom memorized, he had spent so many hours in it. The jury was currently out, as they had been for almost three days, deciding the man's fate. Everyone in the courtroom was silently waiting, they were all eager. The gallery wanted to know if they should send old Mrs. Gale condolence cards, the prosecution wanted to know if they were able to prove their truth, and Harrison wanted to know how long the rest of his life would be.

When they heard the door click open, everyone was silent. You could hear a pin drop ten miles away. One by one the jury piled back into the room and took their seats. The judge sat up straighter, if that were possible.

"Your honor, we have reached a final verdict." The only standing juror, number three, was speaking directly to the judge.

"Mr. Gale has been accused of the stalking and murders of Vanessa and Joshua Higgins. Throughout the trial you have heard from different witnesses and have been walked through the evidence left at the crime scene, as well as evidence collected at Mr. Gales own home. Please face the defendant and deliver your final verdict." The judge spoke, her voice strong. The juror nodded and turned to the rest of the room.

"For the stalking and murders of Vanessa and Joshua Higgins the jury has unanimously decided that the defendant is guilty of all charges." Harrison felt his heart skip a few beats. But this nightmare wasn't over yet, "The jury has also unanimously decided that, as punishment for his horrific crimes, that the defendant receive the death penalty."

There it was. The final nail in the glass coffin.

Harrison could hear his mother wailing. He could hear Vanessa and Joshua's families having their own quiet celebration. He felt his lawyer pat him on the shoulder and get up as the judge confirmed his sentence with the sound of his gavel.

He could see his future go down the drain.

The sound of his mother's sobs followed him as the guards led him out of the courtroom that would send him to the last home he would ever have.

—

Harrison woke up in a cold sweat. It was dark outside, the clock above the door read ten-thirty pm. He must’ve passed out and stayed that way all of last night.

He seemed to be in the hospital ward, there was a shackle on his left wrist and leg keeping him attached to the bed. Not like he would run if he had the opportunity, who would he go home too? He couldn’t look into his families eyes after he got his sentence, he refused to see his mother when she visited. And she tried, she tried so hard.

Looking to the left, Harrison saw the table next to the bed had a brown paper bag. Grabbing it Harrison could smell that it was food; His mothers homemade chicken tenders, fries, mashed potatoes, and corn; he had a water bottle filled with her sweet tea with it as well.

It confused him at first, before the truth hit him like a knife to the heart like a baseball bat to the head. His final meal of choice. They were going to get him at midnight for his execution. These were his last hours alive.

He tried to cry, to scream, to lash out somehow. But all Harrison felt was numb, his mind preoccupied with his dream. It had been too real for it to be something his mind produced on its own. Part of him was confused, and another part knew what it meant. Harrison knew what it meant.

"I always have." Harrisons voice was rough, hoarse. Like he didn't believe what he was saying, he didn’t want to believe. Harrison wanted to ignore what this meant for him forever, but that wasn’t an option.

"Well, glad to see you've finally come to terms with the bloody truth."

Whipping his head in the direction the voice came from, Harrison saw the man from before sitting in a chair in the corner of his little hospital-prison room. The man wasn't completely covered in blood anymore, now there was just a stain on his shirt where his heart would be. Looking at his face, Harrison saw that his eyes were still blurred over, the man was still sickly pale but his skin didn't seem to be peeling either. He still looked dead, just more fresh than a corpse.

"Recognize me, Harry? You've got to by now, even someone as daft as you can't play pretend forever." The man's voice was laced with venom. He was angry, and looking at him Harrison could see why.

Harrison Gale was looking into the eyes of Joshua Higgins.

Night Six

"J…joshua." Harrison choked out. It was like the name itself was poison in Harrison's mouth.

"There ya go! I'm the man you stabbed."

"You're also the man that's been terrorizing me this past week!" Harrison spat.

Joshua ignored what Harrison had to say, "Eat. You don't have much time left, do you now?" but he did serve as a helpful reminder that in just a couple of hours, Harrisons life will end.

Quickly opening the bag, Harrison pulled out the chicken and sank his teeth into it. It was better than anything he's ever tasted. This meal was like a pure creation of god, made exactly for Harrison. A gift, from the heavens, for all the shit he's been through.

"It's funny, that you brought up me terrorizing you, when you remember that you stalked me and my wife for ages." That sentence brought Harrison back down from the cloud nine his meal put him on.

"What are you talking about? Vanessa was- is my wife. You attacked her- I…I- You killed her. I must've killed you in self defense, and then got charged with both." This didn't make sense, "and I never stalked anyone!"

"Oh come on Harry, you were doing so well! You can't honestly tell me you don't remember? No? Well, let me fill in the blanks. You had been stalking my wife for years, sending her love letters, snippets of your hair, jewelry, anything you thought would make her fall for you. Then me and Vanessa got married, and soon your love letters started including themes of marriage. You had convinced yourself you and Vanessa were lovers, when in actuality you were just some janitor at her workplace. You created a whole fantasy world where you and Vanessa had fallen in love, gotten married, were planning to have kids, the whole nine yards. You had written yourself as me in her life."

"No…no! I wouldn't- that's not how it went!"

Joshua paid no mind to Harrison, "You watched her for years, every movement, you knew her better than her own mother. Then you caught wind that me and Vanessa had started trying for a baby. Must've been what set you off because a week after we first started trying, you were breaking into my house and murdering me in my own bloody living room. Vanessa tried to run but you ran after her, screaming that if you can't have her no one can. You killed her in the nursery that she was designing."

"Vanessa- I loved her! I would never hurt her, I would- couldn't, ever hurt her." Harrison was sobbing now. He couldn't believe what he was hearing, it just couldn't be true!

Ignoring him, Joshua continued, "You, being too disgusted with what you had done, convinced yourself that you were Vanessa's husband. That you came home one day and she was dead. You convinced yourself that I never existed at all. A maniac is what you are."

Harrison felt sick, he was going to throw up. Leaning over the bedside he threw up the little bit of chicken he had eaten. When he lifted his head once more, Joshua was gone. Looking over, the clock read eleven o'clock. He only had an hour now. Glancing back, Harrison saw the rest of his food. If he was going out, he at least wanted his stomach to be full.

For the next hour Harrison cried and ate the last meal his mother would ever make for him.

Night Seven

When twelve eventually rolled around, Harrison heard a buzzer from the other side of his door. The guards were here. Harrison was about to walk towards his death.

The guard that opened his door was Konnors. He looked at Harrison and then his eyes drifted to the pool of vomit as his nose slightly crinkled. The other guard grabbed his keys and began to unlock the leg cuff while Konnors did his hand.

"Sorry about the smell. If it makes you feel better I won't do it again." A bad joke was all Harrison could think to do right now. He felt desperate for someone's sympathy.

Konnors let out a small chuckle, "I'll bet. C'mon, get up. We've got to take you down to the execution room."

They helped Harrison stand, he felt like his legs were going to crumble. The other guard, Johnson, put the shackles on his wrists; and with that the three men were off to the electric chair.

Harrison was sure he was shaking, step after step he felt like he would collapse. Konnors and Johnson led him down a couple of hallways, they were walking for a few minutes before arriving.

When Konnors opened the door Harrison saw the chair. It was wooden with leather straps and buckles to keep him in place. The chair was no doubt hollow so that wires could be run through it. There was a cushion where the back would go that probably had metal rods on the inside.

There was a rollable table next to the chair that had a hair clipper next to a black ribbon on it. The table also had a bowl with a sponge and some salty smelling liquid in it. After Harrison was sat down, Johnson started buckling him in while Konnors grabbed the clipper and went behind Harrison.

Moving Harrisons head back and turning the clippers on, Konnors started shaving. Harrison watched as clumps of his hair were thrown on the ground away from the chair. He felt a single tear roll down his cheek.

Soon, it was done and Harrisons head had a newfound coldness to it. Konnors put the clippers back on the table and grabbed the ribbon, which was actually a blindfold, and tied it around his head.

Without his sight, Harrison had to rely on his hearing to know what was going on. Johnson mumbled something about a witness to Konnors before walking off. A second later the salty smelling liquid was getting wiped on Harrisons head and neck. It was cold, and soon it was all Harrison could smell. It flooded his senses, it smelled like he was sitting in a hospital. He hated that.

Soon Konnors was finished, the table was rolled away, and Harrison was alone in the room.

Or so he thought.

"Well, here we are." Joshua's voice filled Harrisons ears. It caused the dying man to jump a little. "It's been one hell of a ride. But I'm glad this is how it's going to end."

Harrison couldn't find it in him to respond.

"Your mom is here. Guess she's the witness." Of course she is, that must be why Johnson left. Mrs. Gale was always an emotional woman, probably needed someone to calm her down.

Still, Harrison stayed quiet. He didn’t want to talk, not when he was about to die in such a brutal manner.

"I wish you had died the same way Vanessa had. Felt the fear, the hopelessness. It's different when you're being murdered. You spend your last moments wondering what you did to deserve this, praying to whatever god there is for salvation, hoping you get lucky. I guess this is better than nothing. Are you scared Harry?"

Harrison thought, was he scared? No, not really. Actually, Harrison felt strangely calm. He could think of a myriad of reasons as to why he should be sobbing, praying, begging, whatever else. But, Harrison felt calm. He didn't know if he had just given up, or if this was actually how this situation made him feel, but either way he wasn't scared.

"They're about to turn the power on. I have something I want you to know, Harry." Harrison could practically feel the twisted, devilish grin that Joshua wore. Harrison felt Joshua move closer to his face. Joshua kept moving until his lips were right next to Harrisons ear. It took him a moment, but at last he spoke.

Joshua Higgins was the one who delivered the last words Harrison Gale had ever heard.

"I'll meet you in hell you fucking bastard."

#writing #no beta we die like men #creative writing #aspiring writer #thriller #horror #i found this in my drafts #it was an old school project #unedited #please be nice #spooky #halloween #ghost

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crymeariveronceagain · 2 years

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@obsidianstrawberrymilk thanks for the prompt, have some mediocre fitz angst!!!

#kotlc #kotlc fitz #fitz vacker #kotlc keefe #keefe sencen #just dudes being bros #kotlc fanfic #fanfiction #this is a REALLY sad fic highkey #and its very mediocre #so dont expect a miraculous anything #its just #cringe sad drabble #unedited #no beta we die like men #kotlc fic #kotlc fanfiction

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serpentineego · 1 year

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Ever Since the Fall

Chapter 17 Part II Sneak Peak:

A million thoughts flew through his mind as the death of Ron played out in slow motion in front of Theo. He had never seen anyone do such a grotesque thing to another person with magic before; yet he couldn’t look away. Hermione had not drawn her wand once since their arrival and was cursing the redhead from the inside without one. The amount of sheer power it took to do such a thing was simply unheard of, and it made Theo begin to second-guess if he really knew who, or what, Hermione Granger was. She possessed a power that seemed to bend the rules of magic as he knew them; there was no way she should be able to do what she was doing, yet here she was, doing it.

#new writers on tumblr #dhr fanfiction #female writers #dramione fanfiction #why am i like this #fanfiction #dramione #harry potter fanfiction #please read my shit #audience of seven #ever since the fall #chapter sneak peak #no beta we die like men #unedited #bamf hermione granger #bamf hermione

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plaguepoetree · 2 years

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Give me feed back! Should I continue?

All Thats Left (Klance TLOU AU)

“THE MALL”

Day: 736

Jackson, Wyoming

The teeth had ripped into his skin. They pressed down gripping but not quite breaking the surface. That is until he jerked. It had happened so fast but he felt it as if it where a slow process. Molars sliding slightly, and canines gathering flesh. Pinching till the layers of skin snapped individually between each tooth. Then finally the jaw latched down. Pressing hard until meeting the resistance of bone.

Blood frozen, stilt between a tightly pressed mouth holding everything in. He screamed jerking again, this time ripping free allowing the blood to spill. It was over. He was done. That's just it though; it hadn't set in. The only thought through the adrenaline haze was that he was going to kill Keith when saw him again. He was going to grab the boy by his mullet and...then it did hit him. Flaring through his muddled brain. Reminding him that whatever he planned or desire to do didn't matter. He wouldn’t be able to act of his rage or any other impulse. Lance McClain wasn't going to see Keith Kogane again.

The infected launched forward trying to reattach. Lance rolled away attempting to crawl back to his feet. He was gasping trying to get breath back into his lungs. It had been knocked out of him so sudden. The horde of infected had taken him by surprise. The one with his blood in its teeth even more so. He scrambled to his feet. Stumbling back down. He managed to catch himself with his right knee. A wave of vertigo rising as he hauled himself back up once more. The movement wasn't tactful or graceful; it was wild and unorthodox. Like a newborn fawn taking its first steps.

Once upright Lance whipped around firing his rifle point blank. The infected head exploded, soaking Lance's clothes and skin. He stood there watching the headless creature cripple to the ground below. With its resigning thump Lance felt the burn of his wounds surface. The gashes from his tumble, the bruises from impact. The bite on his arm.

Here's the thing, Lance had experienced bites multiple times before. When he was five his sister Rachel sunk her teeth into the flesh of his right arm. She broke skin. She’d been missing two from her bottom row but it didn't make it hurt any less. The pain had been instant. Two doted lines forming crescent shapes bleed neatly on his flesh. He cried at the sting of his puncture wound until his older brother Marco showed up and dragged them both back to Mama for a scolding.

Bite marks usually always get infected. The human mouth contains numerous bacteria. Even though Lance's Mama cleaned the wound and patched him up it still grew puffy and swollen. It ached for days and scared eventually. It was hardly noticeable to anyone. Just a couple pale Cheshire cat smiles. Sometimes Lance even looked at it fondly. Like some with childhood battle scars did.

Lance was eight when he’d tried petting a stray cat. It had been a tabby that would leave dead birds by his front door. He doesn’t know why but he and his sister Veronica decided one day they were going to catch it. With a laundry basket and pure luck they managed. It been Lance who was tasked with grabbing the furry creature when Veronica lifted their makeshift cage.

They count to three. By four, two fangs had sunk into the junction between Lance's thumb and pointer. It hurt. The pain had seared brighter than any of the scratches he’d also gotten. Mama hadn’t been sympathetic about that incident. She'd chided them for their stupidity. Told them how it was cruel to try and capture such a wild creature. Maybe she believed those words. Though it was more than likely the fact she hadn't needed another mouth to feed.

Food was always low.

Then there was the time when Lance was ten. This time he wasn’t on the receiving end. He'd got into a fight with a boy twice his size. He couldn't quite recall what the fight was about much less the boy's name but he did remember the taste of copper. The boy had attempted to drag Lance into a headlock. Lance had responded with fangs sinking into muscle. That boy had wailed and spewed words that would have earn Lance a spanking (Lance did receive a spanking but that was for fighting not cursing).

Lance was grounded for weeks, his mama making him pick up extra chores to keep him busy. There wasn't much about that fight significant enough to remember. Only the taste of the boy's blood and skin. It had been horrible. The flavor of metal heavy on his tongue. He remembered spitting it on the concrete, glops of pink saliva. Lance had been horrified but slightly satisfied by his opponent's cries. The boy had released Lance pushing him away before the adults could even get to pull them apart. For several moments the adrenaline convinced Lance he was invincible. The feeling ended rather quickly.

He had been lectured by more than his mother that day. Biting someone was frowned upon. It was one of the worst actions someone could commit (of the not quite illegal doings). Especially in the world Lance knew. Thirty years before the world had fallen to the infection biting another person had a similar reaction. It wasn't approved of. In the current world it was like wishing them dead; in the before it was just unsanitary.

Lance had never seen the 'before'. He’d been born after the end. He only experienced what life was like back then, through old movies and books. The adults that had lived it, did not like to speak about it. They only spoke what needed to be taught. His Papa sometimes mentioned things that he missed. Mostly food, from fast food restaurants. His mama talked of theaters and parks. They told those stories with mourning tones. They'd say it felt like yesterday. They'd say it felt like forever ago. Sometimes they'd question whether it was real at all. Mama had told the story of how they got to The Garrison once.

Thirty years before when mama had been pregnant with Marco, the small things everyone took for granted was snatched away. The infection had presented itself in widespread quantities. From then the world changed. Mama talked about the panic that flooded the streets. Chaos that had stricken the world. Cities burned, the sky filled with smoke. Gun fire and screams echoed in the air. Mama and Papa had been lucky. They’d been one of the less than a thousand to be evacuated to the Garrison. The group had been the first and only one to be brought to safety with no casualties. Those that followed weren't as lucky.

"All the movies, and the books, and the games…they had it wrong," Mama had whispered, "The end…it is…it was so much worse."

Marco was born in the Garrison walls as were his children. As was his siblings. As was Lance.

The "Galaxy" Garrison had been a military organization with the intention of training future astro explorers as well as basic air force cadets and cargo pilots. Like all military bases and government officials' offices it had been turned into an evacuation center for its surrounding areas. Lances family happened to be within its territory. The Garrisons evacuation teams had started with the places that hadn't been touched by the infection. The areas surrounding the major Outbreaks.

The infection sprouted in largely populated locations such as cities. The small towns and villages along those cities' perimeter were extracted first. It was from there the teams made there way inward. However, even with the outer civilians cleared it didn't make it easier to access those in the center of the outbreaks.

Not many people were rescued from inside before the airstrikes. The cities were bombed in attempt to block the sick from following. It hadn't worked. The infection couldn't be contained. In the end all the destruction did was create harder terrain to navigate. However, the dead eventually managed. Those that didn't festered in the rubble

Bombing the cities had only made them more of a death trap. The longer the infected remain, the harder they got to kill and the worse the areas they inhabit become. Their bodies began being taken over by fungus. The fungus spread in the environment leaving spores. Small damp spaces were the worst for it. Places like underground tunnels and decaying buildings.

"Similar to Ophiocordyceps unilateralis in carpenter ants," Iverson had explained during homeroom weeks before. It was the best way to describe the infection. That's all they could really do. Describe it. Even after thirty years.

Iverson spoke about the theories of the infection. What it was and how it started. All anyone had about the matter was considered a theory. A conspiracy. Lance hadn't been listening much to the lecture. Keith had been sitting in front of him like always. Lance was distracted. He spent that lesson like most. Counting the freckles he could see on the back of the boy's neck. Lance had hated Keith Kogane. He was the best at everything. From grades to fighting. He was perfect (besides for the mullet). So of course Lance was smitten. He had been crushing on Keith since he can remember, and had despised him just as long.

Keith was the reason Lance became the best long range shot in his class. He was the reason Lance pushed himself so hard best Keith in everything (rivalry reasons). He was the reason Lance continued forward despite the crushing weight of everything. Keith Kogane was the reason Lance got up in the morning. He was also the reason Lance McCain was going to die.

"You're okay," Lance had muttered, wiping the blood from his forearm. The indents pushing beads of blood back through the surface.

Lance had been bitten one other time. The memory would have made him blush if not for his predicament. It was several weeks ago on a simple supply run. Keith had volunteered and Lance followed despite Keith's obvious desire to go alone. Keith was stupid of course because it was a rule to atleast travel in pairs. Then again Keith was Keith and the whole lone wolf thing was an aspect of his personality. Maybe Lances current situation made him a hypocrite.

Long story short Mullet had bit him. In a totally hot sort of way. It had been sudden, the pressing of hot lips on his own. The kiss had been quick and hard shifting quickly to trail to Lance's neck. It was hot and fast and rough. Lance's first, not that he'd ever let Keith know. At the end they both had their fair square of marks. Lance supports a necklace of deep bruises hovering his collarbone. Keith had mirroring marks just much lower.

Keith had bit his shoulder hard but not enough to draw blood towards the end. Then in a haze they were off with the supplies they'd gathered back to the others. If they were both a little ruffled it wasn't any more so than a run in with some Infected. They didn't speak of it and Lance hadn't gotten the courage to ask. He never would get the chance to ask now.

He rubbed the wound again. It was numb with the adrenaline raising up his throat. His heart pounded and he gasped throat closing in fear as his eyes leaked. He should have stayed home.

He was going to kill Keith.

It wasn't really the mullet boy's fault. Lance knew that but it didn't stop the desire that burned into blind rage. He needs someone to blame other than himself. He let out the negative feelings from the last month whelm up inside, It was a distraction from the realization of his inevitable death.

How did he end up here?

Slav had explained the domino effect more than once (he was a probability nut job). Everything had led to this horrible moment. The way Lance had rolled out of bed, which shoe he put on first this morning. Maybe the dominos began farther back than that. Maybe leaving the Garrison, maybe falling in love with Keith. Maybe Keith leaving. Somehow it brought him here.

All stories had a beginning just as they had an end. Lances thought back on all those days leading to this. It was funny how long and short it seemed. Time was so hard to grasp. How every event seemed like yesterday and a decade ago. Like his mama and papa had said about 'before'.

How did Lance McClain get into this situation?

It was kind of a long story.

#klance #lance voltron #laith #voltron legendary defender #fanfic #draft #ongoing #tlou au #the last of us au #apocalypse au #post apocalypse #age #unedited #no beta we die like men

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candidcondor · 4 months

Text

You will be warm when you die

You will be held

I’ll coo soft words in your ear

And gently preen your feathers

At the end of your life, I

will keep you dry

and make sure the kids aren’t too loud

You’ll curl into the shape of my palm

I promise to sing to you

A song about soaring

And hiccup from crying between verses

But i know you won’t mind

You’re going to chirp softly and close your eyes

As I enchant with a lullaby of starry skies

And my heart will skip a beat when you stop nodding along

But I’ll keep singing your song till it is done

My father will tell me to wash my hands

And erase any trace of you

“It might have had the flu” he’ll beg

but this hour is dedicated to you

because when you die you’ll be held and warm

and your feathers will be preened and

I’ll sing you your song

because i refuse to let you die alone

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daycourtofficial · 4 months

Text

Cat got your tongue?

Pairing: Azriel x reader | WC: 1.3k | Warnings: oral f receiving

Summary: Azriel can’t help himself when he sees how good you look in your dress for starfall, causing the two of you to take a detour on the way to the celebration

Author’s note: everyone say thank you @writingcroissant for this idea. Also this is unedited, we die like men in these parts

“Where are we going?”

Your laugh bounces off the empty hallways, Azriel’s grip on your wrist firm as he leads you through the house, checking doorknobs as he goes. The sounds of the crowd outside were muffled, Starfall starting in about half an hour.

“Az-” your words are cut off as he finally gets a door open, pulling you inside before pushing you up against the door quickly. He takes your chin in between his fingers, bringing his lips to yours.

“Az-” you giggle between kisses, his lips moving down to your neck. “Az, I don’t want to miss the stars.”

“You won’t,” he mumbles into your neck, his hands tracing down your waist, pulling you into him.

You weave your fingers into his hair, pulling his head up to look into his eyes.

“I spent too long on my hair to have you mess it up before Starfall even starts.” He waggles his eyebrows, his fingers digging into your sides. His breath was warm as it fanned your face, but his words sent shivers down your spine.

“I won’t mess up your hair.”

He leans in, kissing just beneath your ear, trailing down your throat, to the open column of your chest. His name falls from your lips in a breathy moan, your body frozen in place at his touch.

Hisbhands move down to your thighs, gripping lightly. His head is in your chest, kissing your breasts softly as he continues trailing kisses down your sternum towards your stomach. He hooks his fingers into your panties, causing you to gasp as he slides them down slowly. Once they reach your ankles, he taps each of your ankles to get you to step out of them before he tucks them into his pocket.

You peer down at him, his lips leaving a trail of kisses up your ankle, your shin, your thigh, following the path of the slit in your dress.

All while keeping direct eye contact.

Fuck him and his beautiful hazel eyes. Fuck the way he’s looking at you as if you could convince him of anything and he’d accept it. You can’t remember the why of how you’re here in Rhys’s home, in a random closet. All you can think of is his mouth, his greedy tongue, and how desperate you are for it.

When he reached the midway point on your thigh, his kisses became sloppier, opting to just run his tongue across your skin instead.

You moan as he nips your inner thigh with his teeth, a playful smirk disappearing beneath your skirt, only his eyes were visible now.

You couldn’t help but thrust into the air, desperate for any kind of friction. Not even his shadows were touching you, for cauldron’s sake. They were all pooled over his shoulder, content to watch their master perform.

His hands slid beneath your skirts, fingers squeezing your ass before he moved up to your hips. His mouth was inches from you, his warm breath sending goosebumps across your body.

“Cauldron, Az. You look so pretty like this.”

He nipped your inner thigh with his teeth, a soft huff from his lips driving you insane.

Your words weren’t wrong - he looked incredible between your legs. His eyes sparkled with mischief as he looked up at you beneath his mile-long lashes. Your hands reached down, threading through his dark curls, your thumb rubbing the tan skin of his forehead.

One of his hands slid your leg over a shoulder, and you’re careful to mind your heel from touching his wing.

“Az, there’s a party out there. You love Starfall.”

He pressed his lips to your core and hummed, the vibrations coursing through your body. Your back arched off the door, tilting your head back at just how good his mouth felt just sitting there.

“I want to start my favorite holiday just right.”

His words were immediately followed by his tongue sliding through your folds, your hips immediately thrusting for more. You moaned his name as his tongue flicked slowly through you, and you tug his hair lightly.

“Starfall’s not even your favorite holiday,” you say between pants.

“Silly me,” he replies, gripping one of your legs over his shoulder. You swing your other leg over his shoulder, his body the only thing keeping you up against the door. His hands grip your ass, his forearms holding your weight.

His tongue is slow circling your clit, taking his time tasting you. You dig your feet into his back as you whine, desperate for him to speed up.

“Az, please.”

His eyes flash back up to you, his pupils blown wide as he strokes his tongue even slower across your clit. You squirm in his arms, spurring him to speed up. You gasp, a death grip on his hair as you practically get whiplash from the change in his speed. You use his back to help push your heels off, and you can’t find it in you to care about where they end up.

He works your body perfectly, years of mateship leading him to know exactly how to work your body. You look down as he pulls you closer and closer to your orgasm, watching his eyes stay shut in concentration, his moans doing something to you.

You want to grab his wings, want to hold the talons so you can grind against his face properly. Your hands itch to touch his wings, however you know if you did the two of you would never make it to watch the stars fall from the sky.

Maybe the two of you could skip the charade and just get naked one year and spend the holiday getting messy.

This year the two of you had a foolproof plan - get drunk during the shower of stars, leave when you two couldn’t handle it anymore, and lock yourselves in your cabin for the rest of the weekend.

Something about holidays got Azriel riled up - maybe it was finally having someone to spend them with, or maybe it was just your mate being the horny male he was.

You weren’t complaining as his fingers tapped your ass, asking you to look his way. You looked down to find his eyes already on yours, his eyes full of amusement as his tongue works that perfect spot on your clit. You keep your eyes on his as your fingers grip his hair, riding his face through your orgasm.

His tongue works you through your high until he pulls his face away from you, his chin glistening with your arousal. He holds you against the door as your breathing evens out before gently moving your legs from his shoulders, setting your feet on the ground softly.

He moves the skirts of your dress, straightening them so they cover you completely, fixing the thigh slit carefully. He smiles at you, making no move to clean off his face.

“You’re something else, shadowsinger.”

He wraps his arms around you, pulling you in for an embrace. You want to laugh in his arms at how quickly he shifted from horny to sweet, but it’s a line Azriel’s always toed with you.

You place your hands on his chest, using him for balance as you put your shoes back on. He helps hold you as you step into them.

You smile up at him as you reach your hand out, aiming for his pocket, but his hand intercepts yours, bringing it up to his lips so he can kiss the back of it.

“Az.”

“Yes love?”

His eyes peer at you over your hand, reminiscent of how he was looking at you from under your skirts, just a bit less smug.

“Can I have my underwear back?”

“No.”

You sigh, reaching again to his pocket. “Az, the slit in my thigh is quite high. A soft breeze will give everyone a different kind of show.”

He places his hand on your lower back, leading you out of the room.

“I will be hypervigilant. It’s an hour. Then we’ll head out, grabbing several bottles on the way. A celebration all our own.”

You giggle back down the hallway, following Az back to the noise and partygoers, his hand warm in yours.

Permanent taglist: @vanilla-seabass @cyrygher @lees-chaotic-brain @topaz125 @chessebookgirl @fides25 @lady-of-tearshed @ashbatz @fxckmiup @lilah-asteria @justvibbinghere @daughterofthemoons-stuff @mybestfriendmademe @heartless-tate @tsunami-of-tears @idrkwhatthisisimsorry @olive-main @azrielsmate3 @pit-and-the-pen @durgenyx @dee-writes-smut @chairofchaos @thelov3lybookworm @berryzxx @throneofsmut @kennedy-brooke @prythianpages @itsswritten @acotarxreader @ninthcircleofprythian

Azriel taglist: @brieflyclassymortal @thisiskaylin

Thanks for reading 🥰

#acotar fanfiction #azriel x reader #azriel #azriel x you #azriel fanfic #acotar writing #azriel smut #azriel x reader smut #azriel x you smut #azriel x y/n smut

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lighteyed · 1 year

Text

can it be easy this once? / steve harrington

summary: steve accidentally gives a stupid answer to your honest question. (best friends with benefits pining idiots to lovers, fem!reader)

unedited we die like men & title from the alcott by the national ft taylor swift hehehe enjoy

It started as a means of comfort after Starcourt, when he was bloody and bruised up but you took him home and got closer, closer, closer, until it turned into a mess of blurred lines and panting breaths, lips swollen for reasons other than being hurt, for better reasons, reasons that brought forth safety and relief for the two of you. You both tend to hunger for such things. It’d been good, easy, for a bit there. Lately it’d felt like the intimacy was threatening to choke you. Like you’d never met a form of closeness you didn’t cling to. And God, did it feel like you were clinging. Craving an unwarranted change. Was it so unwarranted? You weren’t sure, you could never tell.

The air in his room is hot and sticky with summer, the ceiling fan providing the barest relief, your bare skin providing the slightest bit more. You stare all around his room, taking in all the stark traces of him, though in truth it doesn’t betray much, just as he attempts to. It’s a plain room, plaid walls, matching curtains, his desk messy and cluttered, all the dresser’s drawers slightly ajar like he spent a touch too long shuffling through all his clothes to determine which outfit would be best, which, knowing him in the way you do, he probably did. You knew he wasn’t as secure as he liked everyone to believe. Steve Harrington tried his best, but sometimes you saw right through him.

Other times he was harder to read. It was probably purposeful, layers of protection built around himself. Don’t love anyone, don’t let anyone love you, and you won’t get hurt. People can only hurt you if you let them. Steve wasn’t letting anyone anymore. Definitely not his parents, definitely not Nancy Wheeler, definitely not random girls who would inevitably end up disappointed with him. He swore it all off. He was a hopeless romantic who never wanted to be in love again. You understood it for the most part. Or you attempted to. It was hard when you were halfway (maybe more than halfway) in love with the guy, in his bed most nights, in his company most days, acting like a couple without being an established couple because he was too hesitant and you were too gentle to be pushy.

He nudges you lightly, naked chest peeking up from his covers, naked everything else kept firmly underneath. “You okay? You’re quiet.” He sits up so he’s level with you, and you avoid eye contact by leaning down toward the floor to grasp for the shirt he let you borrow, a faded Spider-Man one he insisted was from middle school. You didn’t entirely believe him, but maybe it was just funny, and kind of sweet, to picture Steve sleeping in a Spider-Man shirt and keeping it a secret just for himself. You pull the shirt on over your head, and before you can do it for yourself, he reaches for your hair and takes it out from where it’s caught under the shirt. The familiarity of it makes you flinch. You can have sex with him all you want but God forbid he’s the slightest bit loving outside of that. It confuses you, the softness in the touches that aren’t in bed with him. If he holds your hand in any context other than bringing you as into him as possible while he slips himself in and out, you lose all sense of normalcy between the two of you. You can’t be normal when he’s holding your hand and stroking your cheeks and being kind, soft, adoring Steve, without being your Steve.

“I’m fine, I’m just…” You reach for your shorts at the end of the bed. Steve watches you get dressed with his eyebrows scrunched together, confused. You’re not usually in a rush to leave after you have sex. Not that he wants you to. He likes that you stay until day sinks into night and he drives you home and waits to repeat it all again. Waits to see you, generally. And it’s not sex every single time. You drag him to see whatever’s playing at the Hawk and he makes you sit with him at Family Video on slow days when it’s just him on the clock and a single tumbleweed blows through the store instead of any customers. He drives you just about anywhere you ask and he lets you put on any cassettes you want in his car even if he hates what’s playing. It’s nice, the friendship part of all of it. If you had to give everything else up and just keep the friendship you’d be willing. He’d be willing. You consider it. “Nothing, just tired, probably gonna head home,” you smile at him over your shoulder before pulling on your socks and it’s half-hearted and he knows it.

“What? You can sleep here, you know that,” he waves a hand around the room, trying to catch your gaze, but you avoid his eyes again. Descending light slants in through the curtains and envelopes him in gold. He glows, he’s so pretty. His hair is messy from where you heatedly ran your hands through it, but it still looks nearly perfect. The fact that he always looks so good infuriates you.

“No yeah, I know, I wanna like shower and stuff too, and I left my new book at home and I wanted to do some reading,” you bluff calmly, standing up from tangled bedsheets and roaming the room in search of your sneakers.

“That Stephen King scary clown book? I’ll take you home and you can come back and read it here, so you don’t get scared,” and he knows you won’t get scared and that you love horror far more than he ever could but he just really, really doesn’t want to be alone. Why would you go when everything’s right here? His parents aren’t home and something about you leaving makes him antsy and desperate. When you still refuse to look at him he feels himself, his confidence, growing smaller and smaller. “Did I- did I do something?” He doesn’t mean for it to sound as pathetic as it does.

You whip around to face him, finally, finally, and touch a hand to his face. Relief floods through him at the heat of your fingers. “No, of course not, it’s all me, okay? I’m all sweaty and awful.”

“You look beautiful, I swear,” he squeezes your hand and you feel like you’re drowning. It’s hard to breathe, your chest tight. “Are you sure you’re okay? You can talk to me, it’s me.” He scoots closer, if that’s possible. “You’re one of my best friends, we tell each other everything.” You look up toward the ceiling, inwardly groaning. Best friend.

“You do this with all your best friends?”

“Well, no, Robin wouldn’t touch me even if she didn’t like girls-“ He feels himself starting to grin, teasing smile lilting at his lips.

“Steve!” You’re laughing a little and so is he as you push his arm back. “You know that’s not what I meant.”

“What’d you mean, then?” He’s still smiling, that entrancing, deliberately pouty, lazy smile. Vaguely smirky. You don’t know if it’s deliberate, a ploy to distract you, con you into staying, make you less prone to saying what you want to say, but you press anyway, even though he’s making you want to lean forward and endlessly kiss the smirk off his mouth.

“I just think, I don’t know… you’re not seeing anyone else, right?”

“’Course not, why, you got other plans after this?” He grins again. You roll your eyes. He makes it so hard sometimes.

“Steve,” you whine, “I’m so serious right now.”

“Okay, okay. No, you’re the only one for me.” He means it. It’s the worst thing you’ve ever heard. “Are you seeing anyone else?” He asks you like it’s the easiest question in the world for him to ask but honestly he’s shitting his pants a little. He’s not sure what’d he say if you said yes, I am, and I think we should end this, which is where he’s assuming the conversation is going. You’ve got we shouldn’t do this anymore written all over you in his eyes and he’s steeling himself for the heartbreak.

“Does it look like I am?”

“Does it look like I am?” He repeats back, and he reaches for your hand in that too intimate way of his, takes it all careful and slow. “What’s this about?”

“I just, I just think, that, you know, I’m not seeing anyone, and you’re not seeing anyone, but we’re sorta… seeing each other, yeah?” You gesture between the two of you. He nods. He’s staring at you very intensely, waiting for you to get your words out. He’s still waiting for you to say you think this whole thing has been a very bad mistake, a miscalculated judgement on your part, you should go back to the way things were, so he’s not expecting what comes out of you next. “Shouldn’t we be, like, official, then?”

And instead of throwing up all the ways he so badly would love for that to happen, he chokes out, because he’s stupid and speechless, “Official?” And the way he says it, like it’s a curse when it’s only his disbelief that you’d want that with him after all this time, makes you immediately go into panic mode.

He quite literally sees the way you lose any sense of confidence in your question and he immediately tries to take it back as you stand from his side and start trying to force your words back in your mouth, too. “Fuck, forget I said anything,” you mumble, spying your shoes shoved under his desk where you’d comfortably kicked them off. You hasten to put them on as Steve scrambles up from the bed and starts dressing, matching your frantic speed.

“Hey, wait, that’s not what I- I didn’t mean it like that-“

“It’s fine, Steve, I get it, I totally do, this isn’t that for you, it’s fine-“

“It is, it is-“ but you’re not hearing him, your mind is already elsewhere. It’s in your own bed in the quiet, alone with your thoughts and not with him, mercifully not with him. You need this one mercy, “I’ll drive you home, babe, c’mon, I’ll explain everything, please-“

“I got it, it’s fine, I’m fine, you don’t have to explain, okay? I got it,” and you don’t just walk out of his house and down the block to yours, you absolutely flee. You take Steve’s heart with you.

He’s pacing the floor behind the register at Family Video three days and three shifts later, practically clawing at the walls of the place, and Robin is pulling her hair out at the sight of him in distress this way.

“What did you do?” She finally breaks, flipping her magazine shut.

“What? How do you know it was me?” He stops pacing. He hadn’t even noticed he was doing it.

“You’ve had three shifts and she hasn’t visited one single time. She always visits. And I know I didn’t do anything wrong, because I never do anything wrong, so, what’d you do?” Robin places her hand under his chin and stares at him expectantly.

He huffs, his hands on hips. “Maybe she did something, Robin, did you ever think of that?”

“Definitely not,” Robin retorts, waiting for Steve to be serious.

He deflates. “Okay, it was me.”

“I know that, now continue.”

“We were, you know,” he tilts his head down and raises his eyebrows and widens his eyes.

“Having sex, sure,” Robin bobs her head. A customer in the nearest aisle frowns and shuffles toward a different section further away from the two of them.

Steve shushes her. “I wasn’t trying to say it so loud.”

“Having sex,” Robin repeats, louder this time, not bothering to fight back a laugh at Steve’s exasperated expression, “continue.”

“Well, after that, she started asking if, if I was seeing anyone, which of course I’m not, because, you know, I’m into her, obviously, so I told her I wasn’t, and she said she wasn’t, so she said maybe we should be official.” Steve hesitates to say the rest of what happened. He still can’t believe all he could do when you said the words was repeat them back to you with that stupid look on his face instead of giving you the biggest, loudest declaration of love in a big, messy, pathetic, devoted way, the way he pictures himself when it comes to you, messy and pathetic and devoted, and he replays that moment back to himself all day long, thinking of everything else he could’ve said to make you understand.

“That’s what you want, isn’t it? She’s all you talk about all day long, you want to be with her, don’t you?”

“Of course I do!” He snaps, dragging a hand across his face. “But when she said it I just couldn’t get the words out and she got, she got so sad and she left without me being able to explain anything and she hasn’t answered the phone which, yes, I’ve been calling, and I don’t know how to do this.” He’d never been good at school but he knew he’d get a Grade A in Pitiful.

“Do what? Tell a girl you love her? You’ve been in relationships before, Steve.”

“I know, but…” he sighs. “I’m different now, like, it’s not as easy anymore, for me, and I- I don’t want her to get hurt, and I don’t want to get hurt, it’s like, everything used to be my fault, and I wasn’t as good as I could have been, and I don’t want to break anything, I don’t want it to get fucked up, because it’ll be my fault, and I can’t do that again. Not to her.” He swallows, the words harder to come by than he would care to admit. “I’m a little… I’m a little in love with her, I think.” This is said quietly. It frightens him to say it out loud. He’s gone over it in his head, those words, so few of them, but they say so much, and it’s scary. He hasn’t said them to someone in years. The last time he did he got so brutally hurt he thought he’d never recover. But he had. So why was it still so scary?

“A little bit?” Robin teases, but it’s all love for him, truly.

“Alright, a lot in love,” he concedes. He wants to get used to saying it. He wants to say it to you. For real. Loudly. “I still don’t know how to do this, though. Not anymore.”

“Come on!” Robin gets up from her stool and places her hands on his shoulders. “You’re supposed to be Steve Harrington. You were using those…” she pauses for a beat and then, “charms,” the word is said with the smallest hint of sarcasm but she persists nonetheless, “on tons of girls in high school and at Scoops! Now whip them out again for our very nice friend that you sometimes go to town with!”

“When did any of those charms,” he says it with a matching sarcastic tone, “work aside from when I was sixteen and an idiot?”

“You might not be sixteen anymore but you’re still an idiot, if that helps.”

“It doesn’t but thank you for the encouragement.”

“I’m just saying!” She exclaims, throwing her hands up and returning back to her seat. “Putting yourself out there is always gonna be scary, but you can’t let that stop you. You’d actually be an idiot if you let that stop you. Are you just never gonna see her again? No, because you’d go insane. It’s not like what you did was all that bad anyway.”

“You really think so?” He perks up a bit, needing that confirmation that he isn’t a totally awful and irredeemable person. It’s easy for him to fall headfirst into that spiral of thinking. It was a trap set with the most accessible, perfect bait and he somehow always found himself walking straight into it without stopping to think if he was being fair to himself.

“You’ve both been in bad spots, you reacted the way you did and she reacted the way she did out of what was most likely panic and embarrassment. She’s definitely not even mad at you. Probably just, again, embarrassed. If you explain I think it’ll all be okay, Steve, I swear.” Robin can’t take much more of this conversation circling around, as much as she loves Steve and wants to be there for him, she would love him even more if he acted on his feelings and allowed himself some happiness for once. “So do you think you can you, like, maybe go tell her so she can keep visiting us at work? I need more company than just you and Keith and these customers with no taste,” she complains, glaring at the closed door that hides Keith, in all his absolute glory. The customer from before hears her comment and storms out. Robin rolls her eyes.

“Right, yeah, tell her I love her, tell my best friend I love her,” he frowns, nerves creeping up the back of his neck. “Maybe you could just call her first and ask-“

“Steve! I am not meddling in your love life like that when you already know everything there is to know!” She throws her magazine at him. “She said she wants to be with you, go be with her!”

“Alright, alright!” He waves his hands dismissively. He begins to pace again, this time his eyes held to the clock. Robin groans. There’s still three hours left of their shift.

You’re in your room wallowing, or doing what’d you call attempting not to wallow but failing at it miserably. You haven’t touched a single page of your book, mostly content to just listen to sad records and more or less stare at the wall. It was stupid, you knew, to behave in such a way over some guy. But it didn’t feel like some guy. It was Steve, after all. It all felt deeper than just some guy. You two had been through a lot together, more than most people have been, and if you’d just ruined your friendship with someone you always felt safe, felt at home with, over feelings you couldn’t control and probably would be better off not having, you were going to need some serious therapy.

It probably was silly of the two of you to start this thing up anyway, you reason, fighting back your urge to do any further crying into a pillow. You try to focus on painting your nails a nice shade of dark blue but it reminds you of Steve’s old Scoops uniform and of that night (and all that nights that followed) so you stop in the middle of your second thumb and grab nail polish remover and start scrubbing away at your finished right hand.

“Fuckin’ ridiculous,” you mutter, the cotton ball in your hand soaked through with blue and your nails discolored and muddy. “I am ridiculous,” you say to yourself, shaking off your wet hand. Your room is filled with the smell of acetone and disappointment. You think about lighting a candle when your doorbell rings. You debate answering it before it rings again. And then again. And again, more frenzied this time.

You open the door to a distressed Steve. His cheeks are red and he’s breathing like he can’t anymore. He’s not the multi-star athlete he was in high school, he realizes in this moment. “Did you- did you just run here from work?” You ask him, but he’s already too close to you, not answering your question, gazing at you because simply looking isn’t enough and has never been enough. He is gazing. He is flush with adoration. It’s hard not to bloom under that radiance. He makes you want to forget everything and go back to plush lips on hot skin and the quiet contentment that came alongside being with him in those first few months. You back up a little into your doorway but he steps up to you, following your steps. “Where’s your car-“

“Forget that for a sec,” he says, and you stop talking out of surprise. “Just, just tell me if we do this it’ll be okay, and we won’t be terrible for each other, and we’ll be good,” because he needs to hear it, even if it’s ridiculous and he’s jinxing it before it’s begun he needs to know you’re right there with him. “Like, just tell me it can be easy this once. If you broke my heart I don’t know if I’d be able to handle it. ‘Cause I love you. I do. And I want this.” And you get it. He’s letting you get it. He’s letting you all the way in. You realize, flustered and basking in it, that he’s the first one to say those words. That you hadn’t even said them when you posed your first question. But he’s saying them out loud and it’s brilliant and beautiful. He is beautiful.

It makes you want to weep, the love that swells here, out in the open. “Fuck, Steve, what type of girl do you think I am, breaking the heart of the guy I’ve been in love with since he started sneaking into my bedroom?” He smiles. He glows. It’s so beautifully Steve. Maybe it can be easy.

When he kisses you, he proves it: the ease, the tranquility. He is fervent and burning. Everything is urgent with Steve. Especially kissing. He captures every bit of you immediately. His touch is light when he urges you out of your doorway and into your living room so he can shut your front door and quit giving the neighbors what he’s sure is the show of a lifetime. It is for him, at least.

#IM JUST GONNA POST THIS NOW BECAUSE I WANTED TO WRITE SMUT BUT I KEEP DELETING IT AND IF I DONT JUST POST AS IS IM GONNA END UP NEVER POSTIN #i feel like the ending is rushed but otherwise i did enjoy writing this immensely!#love you guys<3333 #i will write smut one day but not today i guess! i’m literally at work rn too soo #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington #steve harrington fanfic #steve x reader #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington x you #steve harrington fic #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington one shot #stranger things x reader #stranger things

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discogoode · 2 years

Note

Prompt: a double date couple A are established and couple B are meeting for the first time. Whichever ships speak to you

“I’m so nervous, Crystal.” Daya said, rubbing her sweaty palms on her black jeans.

The girls were sitting at a booth in a bar, sipping some drinks and waiting on Daya’s date to arrive. She was running a little late.

“You’re gonna be fine! This is why you have me and Gigi there with you. It’ll make conversation way easier. Plus, Gigi knows this girl, it’s not like she’s some random stranger.”

“Like I told you before, Bosco and I have had classes together for like two years now, we’ve hung out a few times. I just think you guys will get along so well, I had to try and set you up!”

“I trust your judgment, Gigi. I’m just so nervous about meeting new people, especially in a romantic context.” Daya said.

“Well she just texted me that she’s here, so you better get rid of those nerves fast!” Gigi said, giving Daya a bright encouraging smile.

“Oh god.” She sighed.

Right as Daya was about to say something else, a tall girl walked over to their table. She had long curly brunette hair and she was wearing a crop top and a choker with some ripped jeans. She was fucking gorgeous. Daya held her breath.

“Hi Bosco!” Gigi said.

“Hey!”

“Hi, I’m Daya.” Daya said, a nervous smile etched across her face.

“Hi, you’re gorgeous.” Bosco responded.

“So are you.” Daya blushed.

Daya got up from her seat to let Bosco slide into the booth, so she could be across from Gigi while Daya was across from Crystal. When she stood up, Bosco smiled.

“Is this why you thought we’d be a match, Gigi? I did say I was into tall girls.” Bosco gave Daya a wink before sliding into her seat.

“That may have been a factor. A master matchmaker never reveals her secrets.” Gigi smiled.

“I like your tattoos.” Daya said, admiring Bosco’s arms.

“Thanks, baby. They’re new.”

“I have a couple tattoos too, I just got one on my chest but I can’t exactly show you without flashing you.” Daya laughed.

“You say that like it’d be a bad thing”. Bosco winked again.

The rest of the date went by quickly, conversation after conversation moving very smoothly. Daya and Bosco really did get along great, Gigi was definitely right.

After the date, Daya walked Bosco out to her car, wanting to have a moment alone with her. They stood next to Bosco’s car, talking for a moment.

“So, I had a really good time. This was really nice.” Daya smiled.

“I’d love to go out again some time soon, if you’d be down.”

“Absolutely. Maybe next time without my friends staring at us like embarrassing parent chaperones.”

Bosco laughed at that, throwing her head back.

“You’re funny, Daya. I really like you.”

“I really like you too.”

Bosco leaned forward, placing a hand on the back of Daya’s neck.

“Can I kiss you?” She asked.

“Yes, yes definitely.”

Bosco leaned forward and connected their lips. Daya smiled into the kiss, resting a hand on Bosco’s back.

Needless to say, Daya was really excited for their second date, and she definitely needed to thank Gigi.

#drabble #unedited and not proofread we die like men #THIS IS REALLY LONG I GOT CARRIED AWAY OH WELL

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thecapricunt1616 · 5 months

Text

Vervain - c.b. one-shot

𝓢𝓷𝓲𝓹𝓹𝓮𝓽 (𝓶𝓸𝓻𝓮 𝓑𝓣𝓒): “I want you to fuck another baby in me.” You said and kissed him deeply, grinding against him and running your hands over his chest and abdomen, tugging at the tie of his sweatpants. He moaned in surprise and grabbed your bum, squeezing and spanking you lightly before pulling away after a few more moments of you essentially eating eachother alive to breathe.

♡ O/S Inspo: Vervain - Use in Protection, purification, youth, peace, healing, sleep and baths. For all-purpose protection of homes and people (especially children).

♡ Summary: You & Carmy had your first baby 8 weeks ago... seeing him being so attentive and such a good father is for some reason inducing a baby fever - again.

♡ W/C: 4.6K+

♡ Posted Date: 05/09/2024

♡ A/N: OOOO hey yallllll! Capri is back - She was written by the writing bug this morning!!! I have other requests i'm still working on but for now - I am swallowing my stage fright, I hope this suffices for what you were wanting future Mrs.Berzatto eek!!! Thank you so much for requesting from me! You can see the request this one-shot is based on right ♡ here ♡ if you aren't following @carmenberzattosgf already I'm quite unsure how you found ME before you found HER go give her a freaking follow!!!I am seriously such a fangirl for her work and was over the moon when she requested me!

♡ Warnings for BTC: Pregnancy stuff, breeding kinks, talking about parenting stuff, Dad!Carmy, unedited (we die like men), NO USE OF Y/N!, AFAB/Feminine reader w/ long hair implied

➵ 𝐂𝐡𝐞𝐜𝐤 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐦𝐲 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭 ♡

➵ 𝘊𝘭𝘪𝘤𝘬 𝘮𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘳𝘦𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘴𝘵 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 / 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘵 ♡

It had been exactly 8 weeks today from when you’d given birth to your baby girl, Athena. Of course, you weren’t thinking about this yet - because you were peacefully sleeping away in bed, at 8:45 am. Each day you woke though, you were surprised your life wasn’t a dream.

Being married to your ultimate dream man, with the most beautiful little baby and not a rush in the world. Carmy had known when you got pregnant he’d be taking some time off after you gave birth to care for you, especially since you’d been trying for a baby so he was more prepared to have everything set up. He made your life almost impossibly easy.

Impossibly meaning it was nearly…isolating how simple your problems were compared to other moms. Since Carmy was like - the fucking golden standard of dad. You weren’t sure where he learned all this shit- especially since his father was never around and you knew for a fact didn’t treat his mother like this. You honestly felt bad complaining about anything to other moms - because in comparison when you did they were needing to do way more then you, and alone - because their husbands simply didn't care, or weren't interested in learning.

He had completely taken over the nighttime feedings, every 2 hours an alarm buzzing him awake on his watch. He would go ease little Athena awake, come back to the bedroom, gently wake you, set a boppy in your lap, help you undo your maternity bra and get her latched, and rub your back through the cramping that breastfeeding brought, whispering sweet encouragements and kissing your temple.

After she was done eating, he would help you get situated again, bottle up the letdown milk and put it in the mini fridge he’d gotten for your bedroom for this specific purpose before bringing your daughter back to her nursery and burping her, before changing her and putting her back down - just do do it all again an hour and 15 minutes later.

He took over the cleaning completely - your house was spotless nearly at all times, and of course you were very well fed. He would combat the exhaustion fatherhood brought by passing out next to you in bed after he brought you breakfast on a cute little tray and Athena had her morning feeding before being put down for a nap, baby monitor on his chest so he could jump up the second she fussed.

“G’morning mama” was what woke you this morning, that and gentle kisses on your forehead. You heard quiet little coos and immediately your eyes were open on instinct, to see little Athena nuzzled up in Carmys arm like a little football and a tray of amazing smelling breakfast in your face.

“I want my baby” you open your arms and he gently placed her on your chest to which she grunts happily and squirms her little legs, doing everything she can to lift up her head to see you.

“She’s such a good girl mama she helped me make breakfast f’you this mornin’ she’s the best little sous ever” he cooed, looking at her beaming with happiness as he rubs her little back.

This was what got you. You weren’t sure if it was the hormones, if it was the fact your husband looked like a fucking Greek god incarnate, or if it was just - you don’t know…human fucking nature?! Literally? But the insane level of need that you had for him - you wanted another one.

Athena wasn’t even rolling on her side yet and you were already craving being pregnant. Well- Carmy did love your body while you were pregnant. You loved your body while pregnant, you felt sexier and more feminine and pretty and overall like a goddess. Mostly thanks to Carmy and his constant praises, and the way you two were fucking like rabbits during your pregnancy and you missed that.

“What’s f’breakfast daddy?” You pucker your lips to which he obliges and gives you a sweet peck

“So this mornin, Miss Athena she decided on an omelette so we have a French omelette with dill-“ he explained and you inturrupt with a giggle

“Did you? You came up with that all on your own Athena? Such a smart girl!” You joked, kissing the top of her soft head to which she just huffed a breath to your skin and made little baby grunting noises as she wiggled her legs

“She did! Then we also have a light cucumber salad f’you with fresh herbs ‘f’course, sourdough toast, and a banana smoothie. All made with love” he kissed the top of your head.

Each morning after her first feeding, he would take Athena into the kitchen with him, baby wear her because he is just that perfect, and explain every little detail to her softly while he would cook breakfast, giving her head gentle kisses along the way and rubbing her back soothingly. He did the same while cooking lunch, and dinner. The first time you saw this you burst into tears at the sweetness and the beauty of creating your own family.

“Wow sweetheart thank you! This looks sooo yummy” you kissed the now drowsy baby’s nose and she smiled softly, causing you to smile and Carmy to gasp happily.

“Look at that little smile ‘eh? Such a pretty girl” he rubbed her back gently and you carefully picked her up and put her on his chest so you could eat, to which he happily laid back, palm flat over her little back patting her soothingly.

“Can’t wait to try this bear looks so yummy” you pull the tray in your lap and cut off a bite, trying it and nodding “course a ten.” You look at him and he huffs a laugh as to not wake the baby who was clearly ready for another nap

“Y’always say ten” he said softly and pressed his lips to Athena’s head gently, breathing in her baby smell. “Do you know what day it is?” He mumbles and looks over at you.

“I’ve been waiting for this day for….eight weeks” you smirk and he shook his head amusedly with a smile.

“Babe- you’ve been” he covers her tiny ears “you’ve been sucking me dry I didn’t even have a break. This is gettin’ exhausting” he joked and you laugh quietly as to not disturb the baby.

“Not my fault you’re like- don’t get me started I need to eat and shower and shave and - today is a big day.” You said and sipped your smoothie, humming happily “this is really good seriously bear” you told him and he rubbed your hand gently before pressing it to his lips

“Alright well that means I better get a move on then and there’s laundry t’do so I better go put ‘er down, you eat. Watch y’show ’er whatever and you can do your shower mm?” He asked and you nodded happily.

Of course he’d oblige your every wish. He had always been this way, but became even more lenient after you’d gotten pregnant. You made sure many times through tearful guilt that he wasn’t making himself resent you, and he assured you that everything he does he wants to do and only does because of the fact that he wants to, he also assured you he could never resent you or even dislike you, or anything less then be fully in love with you.

You had a luxurious shower, slathered on your favorite lotion and were even able to blow out your hair, putting on your favorite pair of lacy panties. You were upset you had to settle for a nursing bra, but knew Carmy wasn’t going to mind. You put on one of your comfortable slips, even put in some earrings after doing your skincare. By the time you were done Carmy was just getting Athena up from her nap and changing her diaper before bringing her in

“Say hi mama” he takes her little hand waving it at you “did you have a nice shower?” He pecked your lips sweetly and helped you get settled with her on the bed so she could eat.

“Very nice - thank you for taking care of everything sweetheart” you sit back, sighing softly and resting your head back “I love you” you look over at him with a sweet smile.

“I love you beautiful, how y’feelin any cramps?” He asked and held your hand, lacing your fingers together sweetly and kissing your fingers.

“No- well…not as bad anymore If anything when she’s not as hungry my boobs start to hurt” you explained and he nods

“Well y’look beautiful baby, I love these on you” he gently touches your earring bringing a smile to your lips, he always notices the smallest things about you. Like he has you memorized.

“Thank you Bear” you said softly as the baby makes little gulping suckling noises. Carmy chuckled, rubbing her belly lightly.

“That’s the good stuff huh little? Mama’s got the golden tap” he jokes and you laughed, holding her securely

“Stop! Stop making me laugh she’s comfy latched like this you’ll piss her off” you nudge him with your foot gently

“It’s true! You were the one that forced me to try it. It’s sweet, I see why she likes it.” He said and you scrunch your nose, biting back giggles

“Yes because it encourages her to eat it.” You gently brush that spot over her nose bridge and forehead, causing her eyes to flutter shut “that’s why when she’s 6 months we can’t let her have fruit for a while cause she’ll think everything’s sweet like my milk” you explained

“Mmm…read that too in one of the books you got- it’s a good call” he thumbs over her fingers gently that were wrapped around his forefinger tightly like a baby monkey.

“You should sleep” you told him softly. “You can have snuggles with her I’ll watch you”

He smiled and leaned in, kissing you lovingly “thank you sweets. I can burp her s’okay. I already got the towel” he said and grabbed it from his nightstand.

She only took a few more minutes before she slowly stopped suckling and instead went to fall right asleep but before she could you took her off and handed her over to Carmy for burping to which she fussed before she realized her dad was taking her then she relaxed again.

After Carmy fell asleep, you went to put her down for a nap as well and put away the laundry Carmy had washed. It was about 3 hours before Athena began to fuss again and you went to get her, sitting in her rocking chair after you’d changed her and reading her a book as she ate.

Carmy came in just as you were finishing up The Very Hungry Caterpillar “that’s a good one huh princess?” He said softly, gently caressing her cheek with his knuckle to which she fluttered her eyes open and smiled slightly before closing them again.

“Mmhmm, that one always puts her to sleep, she stopped eating 3 pages ago but I like to let her have a little time” you said and gently pulled her off to which of course she fussed. Carmy took her, hushing her sweetly and putting her on his shoulder.

“Y’mommy spoils you little girl” he told her, gently bouncing her as he burped her, putting a cloth on his shoulder and kissing her head. You smile slightly as you fixed your bra and nightgown

“I’d say we both spoil her. The doctor says she’s the happiest baby she’s met” you fixed her little sock that she’d managed to wriggle down to her toes before kissing her foot

“And the smartest and the prettiest and the most perfect “ he told her sweetly patting her back as she let out a big burp “good girl” he said and you giggled

“That was a good one” you told her and kiss her head gently, seeing him like this with her, especially mixed with a sleep thick voice, no shirt, and messy curls - not to mention the stubble from not bothering to shave as often. He looked…delicious

“Mmm- such a sexy daddy too” you mused, kissing his neck gently and rubbing your palm over his abs that had gone a bit softer due to spending way less time in the gym, but you loved it.

“Yeah? Even with throw up on my shoulder mm?” He joked, and usually that would be gross - but fuck. The way he stepped up as a father constantly - everything he did was with the two of you in mind and you never even had to ask. He’d quit smoking for god sakes without you saying a word once he’d found out you were pregnant.

“Especially. You’re so fucking amazing Carmy. Let me go to the bedroom so you can put her down but we need to talk” you told him and kissed his lips lovingly before heading back to the bedroom so he could work his magic getting her to sleep.

It only took him 20 minutes before she was out and he came to the bedroom, carefully shutting the door behind him. “Needa talk mm? Got a feelin’ we won’t be doin much talkin’ “ he teased, throwing her spit up towel in the hamper easily and coming to lay down with you. As soon as his head hit the pillow you were straddling his lap, your hands on either of his shoulders like a hungry lioness in heat.

“I want you to fuck another baby in me.” You said and kissed him deeply, grinding against him and running your hands over his chest and abdomen, tugging at the tie of his sweatpants. He moaned in surprise and grabbed your bum, squeezing and spanking you lightly before pulling away after a few more moments of you essentially eating eachother alive to breathe.

“Holy fucking shit” he said, chest rising and falling quickly “what got into you- im not complaining but-“

“Get me pregnant. I love it- I love it Carmy. God I feel so fucking hot. And seeing you with our daughter being all attentive and good to her? Holy fuck baby. Mm when people look at me - when they look at us I love it. I love knowing that people know you knocked me up.” You said, kissing his neck and sucking a hickey into the stubbly skin there. He moaned softly, palming your ass and squeezing your upper thighs

“No baby not yet - not yet mm? Y’need time to heal…we can pretend mm?” He counters and gently brushed your hair back. You whine and pout, pulling back and looking at him

“No. I want it now get me pregnant now.” You beg and hold his hands “pleeease I’m all healed remember? It’s 8 weeks.” You said and kissed over his tattoos, hoping you were distracting enough to get him to agree.

“Mm yup you can have me inside you again, but doctor said having another baby so fast would cause them to have low birth weight. We don’t want that for our babe no? Also y’breastfeeding babe. The chances of you getting pregnant are super low” he said and you huff, sitting up frustratedly

“You really know how to turn a girl off, you know that right? Can’t you pretend to satisfy your wife? Don’t you think I know?! Do you think I’m stupid?” You snip and he raised his brows

“Y’gettin sassy w’me?” He questioned lowly and squeezed your hips “fix the attitude” he ordered and you bit back a smile.

“No.” You crossed your arms “I don’t have one” you snip “you’re being mean t’me. Y’being mean to your wife” you teased, shoving his shoulder into the pillow playfully.

“Ohh” he chuckled a bit “did you just push me?” He mused, grabbing your wrist firmly but not enough to hurt, just enough to show you he was willing to play.

“What would you do about it if I said yes?” You leaned in so close your noses were touching.

“You’d be in trouble” he smirked, leaning in and tugging your bottom lip between his teeth and sucking and nibbling it gently the way drove you wild. You moaned softly, your eyes fluttering shut. The feeling went straight to your core, warmth flooding your abdomen and your clit twitching with excitement.

“Please” you said softly, well as much as you could mumble with one lip the other still being assaulted by Carm who was very much enjoying the way you were squirming in his lap to get any kind of friction you could.

He finally releases you “please what angel?” He spanks you lightly “what d’y’need mm?” He lifted your nightgown over your ass and squeezed the flesh, reaching under you and cupping your heat. He hummed at the feeling of dampness already soaking the lace, collecting as much as he could on his fingers.

“I need you t’fill me up again. Fuckin breed me make me a mommy again mm?” You begged, grinding against his hand - not even caring about the whorish filthy moans falling from your lips. You’d been fantasizing about this for weeks now, the relief of his hand- his wonderful calloused, thick, muscular hand, felt like it was enough to send you into a full orgasm just from the pressure his fingers were giving.

“Holy fuck y’soaked babe- my god” he groaned, pulling your panties to the side and gently rubbing circles into your swollen throbbing clit that was already twitching. Your hips buck and you bit down on your hand to hold in a cry as to not wake the baby. The next 3 or so minutes you couldn’t even remember what you said as he rubbed firm quick circles over your clit and after not having been touched for nearly 3 months - you were cumming on his hand mumbling his name, and profanities that would likely be considered sacrilegious while whimpering and squirming, thighs shivering - the whole 9.

“Wow” he muttered, and if your orgasm wasn’t so intense you would probably have laughed at how amazed he sounded. “Y’good?” He rubs your stomach gently and you nod quickly, trying to even your breathing.

“Fuck-“ you said once you came down “I literally blacked out for a second I think-“ you laughed and he followed suit, carefully laying you down after tucking 2 pillows under your hips to keep you elevated and tugging your panties off.

“Shit babe y’get all soft on me?” He teased, carefully wrapping your thighs around his waist and pushing down his boxers and sweats just enough to let his cock free. You loved this. It all felt so normal, you were worried it would be awkward getting in bed again, but you two were picking up right where you left off.

“I think you’re underestimating how sensitive hormones make you” you said as he kissed over your stomach and hips, licking a stripe up your heat causing you to gasp and grip the sheets tightly , your core clenching around nothing. Each touch felt like the power of a lightning strike, it was so much better than before. It had to be the hormones, but shit - now that you knew how good this felt you were worried you could never get enough of him.

“I guess I was. Also y’super sweet now by the way - sweeter then before I should say” he spread you wider with his fingers to lap up more of your arousal and you look down at him, moaning at the sight.

“God I fuckin missed you between my thighs - you’re so pretty” you smile, watching as he strokes himself as he continues to pleasure you first per usual. “Can you- try inside?” You asked gently and he looked up at you, resting his cheek on your thigh.

“You’re ready for that?” He asked softly, his lips and chin glistening with slick.

“Yeah- uh…try one? Maybe just one at first” you said sheepishly and he nodded, licking his lips

“Course sweetheart, tell me if s’too much yeah?” He assured and rubbed over you gently before easing a finger over your entrance.

The feeling was…well.

It was similar to the uncomfort of your first time, which - if that was the case then it would just take a few times to feel good again. “How’s it feel?” He gently sucks your clit as he eases to the second knuckle, curling gently

“Mm- okay? Not like it used to. But kinda like it used to…maybe it’ll feel better the more we do it” you assure and he nods a bit, flicking his tongue over your sensitive bud in the way that always got you to open up to him and you gasped lightly, back arching and core going lax. He slipped the final knuckle in and placed a kiss to your mound before slowly pumping as to not overstimulate you.

“Yeah- mmm yeah” you breathe as it started to feel more familiar, the muscles loosening once again and relaxing. “Another- you can try another.” You told him and gently lace your fingers in his hair. He carefully eased in his forefinger, curling them against your g-spot and your thigh twitches, you nearly sobbed at the feeling that shot through your body at the contact.

“Oh- okay found it-” he chuckled a bit “sorry did it hurt?” He asked and you shook your head quickly

“Again” you said softly, trying to remain all of your control because you knew as soon as you lost it finding it would be nearly impossible and you two had a sleeping tiny human 1 room over.

“Y’feel a lot tighter” he said, pumping his fingers slower, curling them against that fantastic spongey spot each time and you felt that coil in your belly tightening rapidly and it was going to snap now, any moment. “Y’like gushing right now” he chuckled, but it fell on deaf ears because your mind was fuzzy with pleasure.

You couldn’t form a thought even if you tried, the mixture of his tongue sloppily drooling all over your clit as he padded over it, and the jolt of pleasure each curl of his fingers - it was a place long forgotten since your baby had been born since your priorities had both been changed and refocused for the time being. You weren’t able to warn him, you couldn’t do anything other then mutter his name as your orgasm washed over you so hard he had to hold your legs open so you didn’t crush him by mistake.

“Fuck me- fuck me baby please Jesus- fuck me” you found yourself begging as you fluttered your eyes open and he was looking up at you in amazement like an owl, mouth slightly agape.

“Holy shit” he muttered “you’ve never cum like that- what the fuck- I thought I almost killed you” he kissed your thigh and you laugh, a real laugh, chest rising and falling quickly as the aftershock of your orgasm reels back mixed with your giggles.

“Please. Please” you cup his cheeks “cum inside me” you beg. He trailed kisses up your body, meeting your lips and pulling you into a hot, messy kiss. Mixed with clashing teeth and mixing of spit and sucking of tongues, before lining himself up and carefully pushing his tip in. You whimpered into his mouth and he pulled his lips away from yours, a small string of saliva connecting you both

“Did I hurt you?” He asked worriedly and you shook your head

“Feels so good bear. Keep goin’ fuck I f’got how full I can feel” you pulled your lips back to his and felt him smile into your lips, holding your hand and lacing your fingers as his other hand worked on rubbing circles into your clit. He kept you quiet by making out with you as he thrusted in fully, staying still for a moment so you could adjust to the sensation once more.

He grunts, feeling your walls flutter around him and you giggle in response, causing him to moan at the feeling of your walls squeezing around him “shit don’t do that I’ll fuckin cum”

“Then move dummy!” You push your heels into his ass and he chuckled, thrusting slowly in and out, nearly to the tip, before thrusting all the way back in to the hilt- his balls touching the curve of your ass

“ are y’fuckin kickin me like a horse?” He teased as your back arched off the bed, a whiny moan tearing from your throat and he covers your mouth quickly, “here y’are beggin me t’fuck a second one int’you- y’haven’t even learned how t’be quiet for the first. The baby is sleeping.” He grumbled, and the way he was getting rough with you to protect your baby was enough to throw you into your third orgasm, tears pricking at the corner of your eyes from the overstimulation of your clit, whining and squirming beneath his grasp.

“Y’gonna be quiet? Er do I have to keep you muzzled ‘mm?” He teased, removing his hand from your mouth

“Promise- I promise- please please please Carmy - give me another one I promise I’ll be so quiet” you said softly, your voice pleading and begging. He moaned, thrusting a bit harder

“Can y’take it? Mm? Are y’sure Y’can take me again princess? Last time I knocked you up it took quite a few months a’you face down, ass up, full a’my cum. Nights at a time. Y’don’t remember how you’d whine about how sore you’d get while you were ovulating? Mmm? Fuck you so full y’get sore- fuckin y’four er five times a’day?” he grabs your face, forcing you to look at him with mushed cheeks.

You whine pathetically, mumbling little ‘yes’ ‘mmhmm’ and ‘please’ you manage to get out an “I miss that so much Carmy” you whimper as he cages you in with his arms, his chain dangling in your face and brushing against your chin as his thrusts get sloppier.

“Yeah? You miss bein full a’my cum? Y’miss wakin’ up in the mornin’ drippin’ w’me honey?” He mutters into your neck, feeling droplets of your sweat mixing together as your bodies rubbed with his incredibly deep thrusts, nearly laying over you. But Carmy was the most comfortable blanket you could ever ask for.

“So much- so so much baby. Y’know Athena would be such a good sister- she needs a little friend mm? Y’gonna give your girl what she wants?” You scratch down his back as he pounds right into your g-spot, “oh I’m gonna cum” you whined, back arching and chest pressing flush to his.

“Fuck - fuck- yes. Yes baby. Fuck m’gonna fuck you full I promise- fuck I’ll give you whatever you want baby I fuckin love you I love you” he moans into your neck, whimpering softly as he shoots hot thick ropes of cum deep inside you, fucking you through your fourth orgasm of the day, rubbing over your belly gently “gonna fuckin stretch this belly out again mm?” He growled hotly in your ear and you giggle, slapping his back playfully.

“You're so funny talking about wanting to wait” you said and he huffs a laugh into your neck.

“Yeah yeah. Legs up- Thena’s gonna be hungry soon so Y’can only prop up there f’r like half an hour” he said and helped you put the pillows against the headboard with your hips on them so you were at an angle and rest your legs up on it to let gravity do its thing. It wasn’t surprising to you, but he absolutely wasn’t opposed to another one so soon after a little convincing.

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